Rage to Live

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Rage to Live Page 7

by Shirley Anne Edwards


  Bowl me over with a feather. “No way. The principal’s son?”

  “Theo’s a junior at Maison. He’s very involved as an alumnus. He invites members of the LGBTQ group here to volunteer with him and with the group at the university. Both groups are sharing a booth together at the fall fair on campus this weekend. You should go.” Her smile grew. “Jo is good friends with the current president of the group here. Marshall is also the senior class president and the captain of the swimming team. He’s gay also.”

  She’d turned the tables on me. This dude was not only out but president of the senior class and big in sports? Whoa.

  “Marshall takes after his father. His father is the mayor,” she added.

  Aha, now it made sense why he got a free pass. No one would attack the mayor’s son.

  “Jo should introduce you to Marshall. He’s also involved in the yearbook.” She checked her watch. “Their yearbook meeting will be winding down about now. Why don’t you stop in? They meet down the hall. Then I’ll drive you and Jo home.”

  I could have made excuses about why I wanted to wait, but she wouldn’t fall for them. It was bad enough she’d found out from Jo that I didn’t have a great time at the AGP party. Jo had wanted to talk about it, specifically why I’d sat on the sidewalk shaking and almost in tears. Even though she didn’t seem to believe my reason, that I was still uneasy around large groups of people in that type of social setting, she’d dropped it.

  “Sure, I’ll do that now.” I stood, grabbing my backpack.

  “I’ll meet you and Jo in twenty minutes.” Aunt Eloise started cleaning up her desk.

  “Okay.” I went to the door.

  “Charlie,” she called out, making me stop. “I’m glad we can talk to one another like this. Your dad will be pleased to hear how well you’ve settled in.”

  I had talked to Dad a grand total of three times since he’d dropped me off. All three conversations had been short. But I had a feeling he had longer conversations with his sister, and they probably all centered on me. We just didn’t know how talk to one another anymore. He had pulled away, mainly because of the past year, and I had blocked him out. It was easier for me and for him that way, in order for us to move forward with our lives.

  “Next time you talk, you’ll have to tell him that.” I opened the door and left her office before she stopped me.

  As I walked down the hall to the yearbook room, I passed more than a few students. Thursday was a big day for after-school activities. It was recommended each student participate in some club or group. The sign-up list outside the cafeteria covered three walls, and most were filled with names. Maybe I would take a chance with the LGBTQ group. I needed to prove I was active in my final year of school to get into college. Maybe I would also fit in better, then.

  The last door on the end of the hall opened, and people poured out. Jo appeared, chatting with three girls. Behind them, a tall guy dressed in gray khakis and a black button-down shirt talked with an older man who was dressed almost the same. They shook hands, and the older man said goodbye to the girls, hefting a briefcase under his arm. When the guy shut the door and faced me, I got a better look at him. A huge smile broke across his face as the girls and Jo talked with him. I couldn’t stop staring at him—he was nice to look at, actually pretty hot. He had the brightest green eyes and dark wavy hair. He also had a commanding presence, and a positive energy even I couldn’t ignore.

  He reached out to those he talked with and touched their arms. The girls giggled, including Jo. They acted as if he was a celebrity. After saying their goodbyes, they passed by me with their heads together, one peering back over her shoulder. Her face was bright red.

  Bemused, I approached Jo, who still talked to the hottie. He lifted his gaze away from her, gifting me a welcoming smile I found myself returning.

  “Hi, I’m Marshall. You must be Charlie. Jo’s told me a lot about you.” He held out his hand.

  For some reason I had a weird sense of déjà vu, going back to the AGP house when Arielle had kept mentioning her brother. Was this the same type of scenario and Jo’s way for this guy to “help” me?

  “Hope it’s all good.” I gave his hand a quick shake.

  He must have noticed I didn’t want to prolong the shake and let go. “Jo would never say a bad thing about anybody,” he said with humor behind his voice.

  “I would never. Not even you!” She nudged him in the side.

  He beamed back at her, showing off a white set of teeth. Then he turned back to me with a watchful gaze.

  I tried not to squirm as he checked me out. Probably not impressed by my boring white-ribbed henley and basic jeans, unlike his young-Republican look.

  “Jo tells me you’re interested in joining our LGBTQ group.” His smile widened. He really did like to smile.

  “I’m not sure yet. I’m still getting situated. But Jo probably told you that.” I sent her what I hoped was a subtle glare, which she chose to ignore. What else had she told him about me?

  “If you’re still on the fence about us, why not check us out in action? We’ll be volunteering with Maison’s LGBTQ group at the fair on Saturday. It’s our fourth year teaming up with them, and it’s always fun.” He lifted his hand to the side of his mouth and lowered his voice. “If you volunteer, you get soda and snacks.”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule to see if I’m free,” I said with a shrug.

  Jo slapped the side of her legs. “Come on, you don’t have any plans on Saturday.”

  “I might.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “I want to look for a job, and—”

  Her eyes bugged out of her face. “Why would you need a job when you have—”

  “Jo, not now.” I gritted my teeth. Even my nostrils flared. I couldn’t believe she’d almost spilled about the money. It would be a cold day in hell before I touched that blood money.

  Marshall watched us in silence but with interest. He started to open his mouth but was interrupted when Aunt Eloise joined us.

  “Hi, kids. Marshall, I see you met my niece, Charlie.” She sounded pleased.

  “I sure did. I invited Charlie to join me and the others from the LGBTQ group at Maison’s fair on Saturday.” He sounded equally pleased.

  I swore Aunt Eloise was ready to cheer. But she didn’t go that far and instead drew an arm around a too-quiet Jo. “A great way to spend a Saturday. Jo and Charlie know the campus well. Tris and Paul will be there helping out by running a booth to promote Greek life on campus.”

  “We should have clear skies and no rain like last year.” Marshall rubbed his palms together, his cheeks turning red. I’d never seen someone this excited about the weather.

  “Yay, sun,” Jo said with little emotion, looking at me from the corner of her eye.

  I’d let her suffer for a while for almost spilling info about me. She really had to think before she spoke. I’d learned that lesson the hard way when Larissa hadn’t appreciated my opinions and wanted me to be quiet or concentrate on other things like making her happy.

  I curled my hand into a fist, and I rubbed my knuckles down the side of my leg, bringing me back to the present. If I embarrassed myself in front of Marshall, I would never live it down. My senior year would crash and burn before September ended.

  He took out his cell, scanning the touch screen. The tip of his tongue poked through the corner of his mouth. “Unfortunately, I have to cut the conversation short. My father wants me to stop by his office.” The happy glimmer in his eyes from earlier lessened.

  “We won’t keep you, then. Ladies, shall we head home?” Aunt Eloise said as she backed away.

  Marshall and Jo hugged, and he whispered something to her. She immediately brightened and nodded.

  “I’ll see you Saturday morning.” He spoke directly to me. “It’s great to finally meet you.”

  Waving, he walked away with a brisk stride. Again, I couldn’t help but watch him leave. There was something unique about him, a confidence I want
ed to immerse myself in.

  “Isn’t Marshall great? If only he wasn’t gay. We would make a great couple.” Jo sighed dramatically as we walked away.

  Aunt Eloise shot Jo a sympathetic look but didn’t comment. Maybe she had heard it from Jo before? But Jo didn’t seem too broken up about it. Aunt Eloise sped up as we left the building and crossed the parking lot to the car. I started to catch up, but Jo tapped my arm, making me stop.

  “Please don’t be angry at me,” she said.

  “Why would I be angry at you?”

  “For running off at my mouth about the money you have because… you know.” She scraped the heel of her sneaker on the pavement.

  “Have you told Marshall or any of your other friends the real reason I’m here?”

  Her eyes widened, taking up half her face. “No! I promise I didn’t say anything, especially to Marshall, although he has these superhero-like powers to get you to talk about yourself and how you’re feeling.”

  “Is it a yes or no?” I motioned for her to start walking again so Aunt Eloise would think everything was okay.

  “I haven’t told anyone why you’re here. I respect your privacy. You do know that, right?” She lifted her hand toward me but didn’t touch me.

  She would never hurt me intentionally, and she wasn’t the type to spread vicious gossip. If she thought I didn’t trust her, it would eat away at her. She just wanted everyone to like her. But she didn’t have to worry because she was so likable, which showed in the way Marshall treated her.

  “I know you care. It’s okay.” I hurried to the car. I didn’t want her to obsess over her goof. That would only remind me of the past, which I already had a difficult time forgetting.

  Chapter SEVEN

  ANOTHER LOUD cracking yawn left my mouth while I waited on the front porch for Jo, who was taking her sweet time getting ready. Not only did she have to primp her hair and do her makeup perfectly, but she needed to eat breakfast and tell her parents about her week. I had barely been able to move from my bed this morning to shower. I wanted to crawl back to sleep. The early hour wasn’t the reason. I’d tossed and turned most of the night after waking up sobbing from a nightmare that had left me shaken.

  I’d woken Jo, who didn’t complain. She gave me some water and a damp washcloth for my face. When I told her I was better, she fell back to sleep while I rubbed the inside of my left wrist and stared at the wall until I couldn’t keep my eyes open. All too soon Jo’s alarm had gone off at seven, its blaring, a hammer to my head.

  The shower didn’t help, nor did the coffee I’d chugged down. I didn’t even bother to dry my hair, leaving it slicked back behind my ears. The morning was already humid, making my white T-shirt stick to my back.

  It had been almost a month since I’d had a nightmare like the one I had last night. They always made me feel disorientated and foggy from lack of sleep. I could have used the excuse to lock myself in the bedroom and let Jo go to the fair without me, but ever since Thursday, she’d been talking about how great it would be and how awesome that I was going.

  I couldn’t disappoint her or Aunt Eloise. I had disappointed enough people. For today I’d suck it up and make the sacrifice.

  The door opened, and Jo came out looking bright-eyed and alert. She must have had more than one cup of coffee. Jo souped-up on caffeine was an interesting sight.

  “Ready to—” She scanned me from head to toe. “Charlie, you look like you just rolled out of bed and threw on what you wore yesterday.”

  “I didn’t wear this shirt yesterday.” I poked the hem of my shirt.

  She crossed her arms and actually tapped her foot. “How many days in a row have you worn those jeans?”

  For some reason she wasn’t a jeans person. She never wore them. Today she wore a sleeveless white summer dress and brown cowboy boots. Not an outfit I’d choose for myself, but it suited her. I was most comfortable in my jeans, including this pair, which I had worn yesterday but were clean for the most part.

  “I can’t stand tight clothes, and jeans feel great after you wear them a few times,” I stated, hoping she’d drop the conversation.

  But she was tenacious when she wanted to make a point. “But a plain white tee and no makeup, not even lipstick or lip gloss?” She lifted her hands in a plea.

  “I have ChapStick.” I took it out of my bag and rubbed it on my lips to satisfy her.

  She sighed. “If you don’t want to go—”

  “I do.” My voice wobbled, and I coughed, covering my reaction. “As much as I wish I was asleep, it will be good for me to get out.” Saying it out loud didn’t necessarily make me believe it. But after my nightmare last night, I couldn’t hide away in bed. If I did, I might downward spiral again.

  “Mom might stop by later with Beau.” She took her compact out of her purse and inspected her face.

  Great. Aunt Eloise checking up on me. The words burned on my tongue, but I kept silent. Jo already wasn’t too pleased with me. Making a snide comment about her mother would add to the tension.

  “Let’s go.” I walked down the front steps.

  We made our way down the street together, both of us silent.

  THE SMELL of fresh-cut grass flew up my nose, making me sneeze. A number of people responded with “bless you,” which I acknowledged with a nod. Jo and I sat in the corner of the booth, putting together small bags with brochures, flyers, pens, and candy for those who stopped by. We had been on the job for almost two hours. I was bored as hell. The heat from the sun in the cloudless sky and the thick humidity, even before noon, made me irritated. My usual pinpoint straight hair frizzed and kept falling into my eyes. My jeans stuck to my legs.

  I wiped my damp face with my arm instead of the hem of my shirt so Jo wouldn’t snipe. As she finished another group of bags, she didn’t bring them up to the table as she had last time, but sighed.

  “Why are gay guys so hot?”

  I bit down on my bottom lip to stop from laughing. The majority of volunteers from both the high school and college LGBTQ groups were male. Most were delicious eye candy, with tight T-shirts and formfitting shorts. Theo, the infamous son of Albee High’s principal, talked to a group of girls. They listened intently to him. He was the type of guy you stopped and noticed. He had above-average looks, and his sexy voice drew people in. It was smooth, deep, and refined. He hosted a popular show on the college radio station and had a big following in town, especially when he broadcasted the football games. He had a great voice for radio.

  “Which gay boys are you lusting over? Theo?” I asked.

  Jo’s face started turning red. “Isn’t he pretty? When he talks to you, it’s like you’re the only thing that matters to him at that moment.” She fanned her face with one of the brochures. “He’s Cuban also, so that gives him a major edge in the sexy department.”

  “Too bad he doesn’t swing your way.”

  “And he’s too old, almost twenty-one. I wouldn’t have a shot with him.” Her bottom lip jutted out as she pouted, and I snickered.

  Marshall came around to the front to fix something on the table. Theo suddenly stopped talking and shifted to get Marshall’s attention. Marshall’s face lit up, and he stood next to Theo, who hung an arm around his shoulder. Marshall kept his arms at his sides and for a quick second stiffened but then relaxed.

  “Theo and Marshall are friends?” I asked, intrigued. Theo did most of the talking while Marshall just stood there. Theo didn’t remove his arm.

  “Yeah, their parents dated—oh, there’s some of the Alpha Gammas.” Jo grabbed the box of bags we’d made and went to the table.

  Some of Tris’s sisters strolled by. Behind them, Arielle laughed with the blond hipster guy from the party. They bumped into one another as they stopped near the booth, greeting those around them. Hipster dude must have said something funny, because Arielle laughed loud enough that I heard it from where I sat. Then she kissed his cheek.

  I lowered my gaze to my lap and scraped the denim
above my knee. If I still had my favorite pair of jeans, I would have picked at the frayed hole there like I used to do when I wanted to focus. But I had burned those jeans in a garbage can. I had worn them to the party because Larissa thought I looked great in them. They were useless after the party anyway. Byron had ruined them when he tore—

  I jerked up in my chair as Arielle shrieked. The quarterback came up behind her and boosted her into the air. Everyone around them found it hilarious and hooted and clapped. Arielle squirmed in his arms but laughed. Even the hipster dude cheered. When the quarterback lowered Arielle, he and the hipster slapped hands and did some corny finger wave.

  Arielle talked to both the quarterback and the hipster, both of whom acted like her bodyguards while they hovered near her. She seemed to soak up their attention, and she snuggled against the quarterback’s side when he slid his arm around her waist. If the hipster was upset by her making nice with another guy, he didn’t show it.

  Jo came back over to grab the bags from me. I watched Arielle and her two friends walk past the booth until they vanished from sight. Jo waved a hand in front of my face.

  “What’s wrong?” She lifted the box of bags.

  I rose from my chair to help her. “Nothing’s wrong. I noticed Arielle with two guys, Maison’s quarterback and another dude dressed all hipsterish. They all look chummy with one another. She’s dating both of them?”

  Jo set the bags on the table. “You mean Dennis and Will?”

  “I don’t know their names. I call them Quarterback and Hipster in my head.” I displayed the bags to give me something to do.

  She laughed, her eyes lighting up in amusement. “Quarterback is a good name for Dennis, since he’s Maison’s star quarterback. I guess Will dresses like a hipster, but it would be kind of disturbing for him and Arielle to date.”

  “Why’s that?” I asked.

  Her lips puckered, and her shoulders shook. She tried not to laugh again. “They’re brother and sister.”

  “How? He’s white.”

 

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