by Bry Foster
“Is CashLoe officially splitz-ville? We think so! Our sources sent us some photos of what appears to be Cash partying in France with his on again off again old flame Demetria Leblanc. The two dated for a year and a half while they both attended the Monet Academy. Don’t believe the two are on again? Check out these steamy pictures.”
Camera flashing effects light up the screen and when they clear there is a pic of Cash outside of a night club. The girl in question wears a dress that would be considered indecent here, her butt almost hanging out of the bottom. She has bright red hair that swings by her shoulder blades. Her head is tilted back as she looks up at Cash. Their bodies are pushed tightly together and his hand is around her waist as he laughs. They do look awfully comfortable. I think in that moment my heart shatters. I feel like someone is sticking pieces of sharp, hot glass through it. Piercing the fragile flesh that covers the muscle. I’m not aware that I made a noise until Liz comes up to me and puts her arms around me.
“I’m sure it’s not what it looks like Khloe.” She says but her voice wavers. She’s uncertain, just doing what best friends do and having my back. It is not often that Liz tells me what I want to hear but at this moment I am grateful for it. How much hurt can one person take? I feel like nothing is going right. Every part of my life is collapsing before my eyes and I am not sure how to fix it. Before I can get my brain to come up with a lie about me being okay, the reporter continues the story.
“We are happy to see Cash back in Paris, we are just curious to know where his fiancé is. Stay tuned later we have reports that Mariah C-“ Liz turns the TV off. I expect the older ladies to protest but they don’t. Liz guides me over to the chairs and I wipe my eyes. My heart hurts. It is painful for it to even beat. What kind of person must I have been in a past life that would warrant such harsh backlash from karma? Nothing I have done in this life could possibly add up to this much negative karma being directed at me.
Who is this girl? Why did Cash never bring her up? Angrily I pull my phone out of my pocket and through blurry eyes go through the process of unlocking it and then dialing him. I call twice with no answer and on the third call he forwards me to his voicemail. I’m so angry that I want hurl the phone at the wall. Liz, predicting this, pries it from my hands and pockets it.
“Don’t look at me like that. I will kindly sit here with you and talk about how much of a scumbag Cash may or may not be, but you won’t turn all of this around on me.” I am so angry…I want to say something mean but I know she is right.
“He is a scumbag isn’t he?” I shriek through tears before I burst out crying again. Liz wraps her arms around me.
“The scummiest! Ugh, his family will need to scrape his princely ass off the corner once we are through with him.” She tells me, her voice tight too. I bring my knees to my chest on the chair while Liz keeps her arms around me. I feel like her arms may be the only thing holding me together. My chest is on fire. I have never felt this way in my life. How could pain that is purely emotional be so tangible? This pain rivals with the dull ache of the loss of my uninvolved mother.
“I don’t think I have ever hated someone this much in my entire life.” I say. Liz squeezes me and her next words almost shatter the small frame of pieces left of my feeble heart.
“That’s because you love him.”
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
“Okay, I would hate to perpetuate the stereotype that biracial girls don’t get their hair wet but…I am not putting my head under the water.” Liz rolls her eyes as she dips under the water and kicks her way over to me splashing. When she’s about two feet away from me she pops up. Water is glistening off of her face and shoulders as she kicks her feet to stay afloat.
Liz pushes her shoulder length red hair away from her face. She arches an eyebrow as she says, “Oh please. I’ve seen you do worse things to your hair.”
“Chlorine is bad, Liz. Plus, my hair is already starting to frizz just from being outside. Let alone in a pool.”
“You might as well not be in it if you aren’t even going to swim.” Now I roll my eyes. I stick my thumbnail into my mouth but there is no nail to chew without hurting my finger so I switch to another without much thought. Liz watches me. Her eyes examining.
It’s been two weeks since my dad got himself put in the hospital. He’s been released and we have a bill that I will probably need to strip well into my forties to pay off. He’s back with Pat but, at the moment she and I are on the same side and she will be keeping him away from liquor…one way or another. I guess she really does care about him. I don’t like her, but that means we have something in common—my father’s well being.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Concern drips from her voice. I reach behind me and hoist myself up onto the wet edge of the pool, keeping my feet in the sparkling water. It’s the Sunday before we have to go back to school. Spring break is officially over. And it has to be the crappiest one in the history of spring breaks. Cash will return sometime tonight, and tomorrow will be the first time that I see him—other than the lovely photos perpetually playing on all the gossip channels and tabloids as they try to scramble for more info on Cash and I’s dating status. I don’t even know what our dating status is. But, if I had to go with my gut. I would say that it is over.
Although I know what Liz is referring to, I pretend not to.
“Talk about what?” This time when I stick my nail in my mouth it tastes like chlorine water. I try not to let it distract me. Liz comes closer to me, wading in the water. She looks towards the house.
“Cash. The articles? The papz?” On top of all of the other stuff, the papz have been like rabid dogs. Two drones have flown over Liz’s house since we have been out at the pool taking pictures or video or whatever of us. A few papz broke into Liz’s neighborhood and had to be escorted out by the security and the police once news got out that my father was released from the hospital. The things they yell at me are worse than simply kicking someone while they are down. I am trying to be strong and ignore them but it is hard to be strong all of the time.
I shrug. “What’s there to talk about? He went back to his ex. I’m really not surprised.” I kind of am. “It probably killed him to do all of that stuff with me.” I say vaguely. The words hurt my heart more than they hurt my pride. Remarkably. I really thought that Cash and I had a good thing going. I thought we were finally beginning to understand each other on a deeper level. On a level that I’d always hoped we would reach together. Now I feel like an idiot. My cheeks warm uncontrollably at the thought of all of the intimate moments that I shared with him. Things that I never imagined I would do with another person, I did with Cash. i let him see parts of me that I never imagined I would want a partner to see. And now I wish I hadn’t. I wish that I had followed my instincts and kept everything bottled up. If I had kept him at a distance it wouldn’t rip my heart out to see him hanging all over another girl.
“It is okay to talk about your feelings, Khloe. You don’t have to be closed off with me.” Liz whispers to me. I look into her green eyes and frown. She is right. Since when did I start hiding things from her? Liz is the only person I have ever felt was in my corner no matter what. I shrug again.
“It hurts.” My voice cracks on the word but I swallow down the emotion welling up in my chest. “I don’t know who I am more angry with Cash, my father, or myself.” I continue. Liz hoists herself out of the water so that she and I sit side by side on the edge of the pool. Both of our legs kicking slowly back and forth in the water creating small crescent waves that ripple and become larger the further away from us they flow.
“I know this may sound weird coming from me, under the circumstances.” Liz starts. She leans back with her palms behind her. Meanwhile, I grip the cool, smooth edges of the pool hoping that the more pressure I put into grabbing it, the more strongly I can hold myself and my emotions together. “Still, you made the right decision.”
“Which decision?”
“All of them.” I gri
mace and look at her with confusion lining my face. She looks back at me. A small smile on her lips.
“Are you purposely being cryptic?” I ask her. She laughs.
“There’s my Koko.” I have to crack a small smile at the sentiment. “I just know you. I know right now you are second guessing opening up to Cash. But, that was the right decision. Whether or not heartbreak comes from it, you can’t spend your entire life in this little box, constantly bottling up your emotions and feelings and pushing everyone away. It won’t solve anything, the way that you think it will. When all of this is said and done, I still believe that you will be happy about the decisions you made. Choosing your dad was the right thing to do. If you hadn’t and things went worse than they did, you would have tormented yourself night and day wondering what would have happened if you hadn’t chosen Cash that night.” Liz is right. And I would not have been able to live with myself had something worse happened to my father.
I nod after a few moments. “You’re right. I would have hated myself.”
“I know.” She winks at me and I laugh again. It feels good to laugh. My chest feels a little lighter. Everything has been so heavy these past few days. I was starting to wonder if laughing and enjoyment was even in my near future. Now I see that it was. “Have a little faith Koko. I’m sure Cash will have a perfectly good explanation for everything. Don’t push him out because that is the first instinct you have when you think you are going to be hurt. Hear him out first.” Her words are hard to swallow. Right now, I can’t imagine letting Cash into my heart any more than I already have. Especially with all of the tabloids surrounding his new romance. Liz thrusts herself back into the pool, catching me off guard momentarily. When she bobs above the water again she says, “We don’t even know the real story. You remember how the tabloids twisted everything about you.” I have to agree with her there.
Instead of harping on more boy talk I jump into the pool, putting my head under the water. I open my eyes while I am under, watching the air bubbles saturate the crystal blue water and float up to the surface. The brightly shining sun rays pierce the surface and cast alluring spots through the water. I blow out more air from my lungs. A part of me hopes that my diving in the water can represent something more than just a sacrifice of my hair. I want it to be a new beginning for me, a beginning where I don’t hide myself from those that I care about. I should put myself out there as me instead of hiding behind the masks of laughter. I feel lighter down here, but the heaviness is still in my chest. I know that I will have to face Cash sooner or later. I just hope that I have the courage to make the right decision when I do.
As has been the norm lately, students watch me closely as Liz and I walk next to each other to our lockers. Most of the teachers have been prepping us about how to fill out college applications and why paying attention to detail when filling them out is important. Everyone is bragging about their spring break or raving about what they will be wearing for prom around the academy — besides me and Cash’s relationship and I seriously cannot wait for senior year to be over so that I have one less thing to stress about.
Cash’s and my interview aired last night and I guess it was uploaded online, stirring many more emotions around in my chest. Jasmine called Liz and I into the living room early this morning to show us that Good Morning Louisiana was playing clips from the interview and commenting on who Cash and I were, the current drama surrounding us and how much of a lovely couple we were. A few of the men talked about how we were far too young to be married anyway and how our engagement was obviously a publicity stunt. Another said that they would be surprised if Cash and I were married longer than Kim K and her last husband. Little do they know.
The conversation got me thinking about what Cash and I will be like in two years when our deal is over. If we still have a deal. If we are still dating—because we want to as opposed to the purposes of tricking his family— won’t it be awkward to file for a divorce from my husband that is still my boyfriend? If the paparazzi and media are on our tails as much as they are now, they probably won’t leave us alone if we publicly file for divorce and then continue to see each other.
I turn the dial on my locker as I think everything over. If I wasn’t so distracted, I may have noticed that quite a few people have stopped in the hallway to look at me as I open my locker. But, as I am often too caught up in my own head to notice the world around me, I don’t notice the crowd until my feet are bombarded by tiny little copper coins.
“Ah!” I squeal and almost knock Liz over because the noise and the weight of the coins scare the crap out of me as they fall out of my locker like a russet waterfall. The noise is jarring and it only temporarily disguises the sound of laughter that surrounds me in the hallway as wave after wave of pennies continue to cascade out of the metal box. The cacophony echoes off of the hallway floor and walls and maximizes the asperity I am undergoing. At the top of my locker is a piece of construction paper that has black marker written on it. It reads:
‘Penny for your thoughts? A little help for your tuition!’
I am so livid that I’ll be shocked if I find out that steam is not coming from my ears. My face gets hot and I feel like I want to shove someone into a furnace. My blood boils as I search for the girl who did this.
“Penny for your thoughts?” Her voice grates on my nerves like she has physically taken a microscopic cheese grater to nerves lining my spinal cord. Slowly, I turn to face the girl that is hell bent on making my life up until graduation miserable. Marley is all smug and self-satisfied when my eyes land on her face. I feel my fingernails digging into the skin of my palms. Half of my brain is telling me not to hit her and the other half is damn near imploring me to.
I try to scoff to attempt not being bothered but, everyone in this hallway can tell that Marley has thoroughly skinned my cat.
“You know Marley. For someone that claims I am not worth much trouble you sure spend a lot of time making room for me in your life.” I grit out through my teeth. I see her jaw tick as she tries to keep the smug smile in place. She crosses her arms over her chest.
“I just want to remind you of your place-“
“-My place is about to be with my fist in that nose of yours if you do not remove yourself from my personal bubble.” Liz grabs my arm as if to hold me back. I look over to see her frantically searching the halls.
Marley growls. Literally, growls, like a feral animal. If I were actually afraid of her I might think she was about to turn into a werewolf or something. “I don’t know what Cash sees in you. I saw that tacky interview. No way should someone of his social status be with someone as shameful as you. You are beneath him. You are beneath all of us,” She stops to gesture around at all of the students enjoying our showdown and my assumed humiliation. “I saw your house on The Newz, how embarrassing. My half bathroom is bigger than that dump!”
“You are a spoiled, rich, slut that thinks she should get whatever she wants by asking daddy for it. News flash: everything in this world cannot be achieved by asking your dad or getting on your knees. My apartment had more character in it than your entire family probably posses to spit out a spawn of Satan like yourself!” She lunges at me just as a tall figure gets in the way and grabs me to push me back. Marley’s hand catches in my hair and her acrylic nails dig into my scalp. Pain wracks through me as I try to get her fingers out of my hair and gain purchase on the shoulder that is digging into my stomach.
“Marley, let go!” Cash yells as he tries to push her off me without letting her take my hair with her. She refuses and I reach for her hair to try and get her to let go of mine. We both squeal when Cash slips on the bevel of pennies beneath us and we all go tumbling to the ground. Cold pennies dig into my back and legs.
As luck would have it, I end up at the bottom of the pile with both Cash and Marley on top of me. I think I hear Liz squeal and try to help with untangling us all but it’s hard to find her voice in the complete cacophony of voices surrounding us.
; I don’t even see red. I see pitch black. I see nothing but all of the things Marley has ever said and done to me over the last two years. I hear my father’s voice cursing at me, telling me that I am not worth anything. I feel the emptiness in my heart that was left behind when I figured out that my mother was never coming back for me. That she did not want me. I feel the hatred that I have pent up for Marley after constantly hearing her voice all of the thoughts and fears I have already had about myself out loud and to others.
I reach around Cash and punch her. She squeals and her nails rake down the side of my jaw and neck.
I grab on to her and we go at it as Cash tries to use his body to stay a wedge between us. Before I know it teachers are pulling us all in different directions and I have a clump of brown hair in my hand.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“Do you have any idea how embarrassed the two of you should be? We do not tolerate this kind of behavior at Warren Academy. Do you hear me? This will not be taken lightly!” Principle Garry yells at us. I have seen Principle Garry and his office far more times than I care to admit to. I will say that I was not completely at fault for at least half of the instances that landed me in here. This one counts in that group. The ‘it wasn’t my fault’ group. Marley started this, and she should pay for it.
“Principal Garry-“
“Do not even dare!” He points a finger at me. I curl my lips into my mouth and bite down on them to keep from speaking out of turn as the man continues to berate us. Principle Garry is a bit on the short side with a horseshoe hair do that mostly contains gray hair. He has dark eyes and dusty side burns that go down passed the bottoms of his ears that I always found fascinating for some reason. His office looks like that of any principle with the domineering chair, wooden desk, bookshelf and diplomas and school achievements hanging on the walls. Marley and I sit next to each other on the opposite side of Principle Garry as he leans over his desk, hands planted on each side, glaring down at us.