She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1)

by Jessica Calla

  “It felt right and safe. I don’t need to know everything about him. Life is short, Juliet. Of all people in the world, you must know this from burying a sister so young.”

  “But what about love?”

  “Love may come. Or not. I take my chances.”

  I think of Chase’s advice about giving my heart to someone besides Ben. “How do you take chances and not get hurt? Is it because of your gift?”

  “Sometimes I get hurt.”

  “Have you ever been wrong about anyone?” I fold the clothes I’d confiscated from her closet.

  “Once.” She yawns.

  “Tell me.”

  “No.”

  “Fine. But I’m not letting you go to sleep until you tell me every detail about Rocco. What’s it like to be with someone so massive?”

  “I promise I’ll tell you everything, but first I have to sleep.”

  I leave Pooja alone, fully intending to take her up on her promise later, and grab my backpack. Getting out of the basement is part of my Frank Plan, along with studying, dancing,. and meeting new people. May as well start executing the plan. After a quick stop for coffee, I head to the library.

  The campus library isn’t exactly a hot spot on Sunday morning. I walk through the library’s creepy, quiet rooms and decide to sit in the area I imagine will have the most foot traffic so I can people watch. I join a handful of other early rising, conscientious students and set up camp at a large table with a long overhead lamp. I click on the light and spread my stuff out to claim the entire table, open my laptop, check my class syllabi, and write a to-do list.

  As I settle in to study, my mind wanders to dance. I dig around my bag for earbuds and listen to the classical piece I’d danced to in class. Thinking about the dance studio makes me think about Chase.

  I text him.

  Call if you need me.

  Thinking of Chase makes me think of Ben. I text him, too.

  At library.

  I open my economics professor’s website and attempt to read about supply and demand. Just as I’m about to put my head down and fall asleep in a cloud of boredom, a cute guy sits at the table next to mine. I smile when I catch his eye.

  “Hey,” he whispers.

  I wave and sit up straighter, reminded by Cute Guy’s toothy grin that there are plenty of fish in the sea. The basement of Sheridan Hall is not the entire world. I stretch and inhale, breathing in the air on the outside, away from basement drama. I’m about to move on to history when something huge plops down next to me.

  Ben looks like he just rolled out of bed. I study him as he stares at me, his elbows on his knees, chin in his fists. “Good morning, Nerd Girl.” Ah, Flirty Ben has arrived.

  “Good morning to you, Slacker Boy.” I wish I could contain the giant grin that always spreads across my face whenever I’m in his presence, but I can’t. His baseball hat is on backwards, and his hair sticks out the bottom. His big brown eyes glimmer and dance.

  “Wutcha doin’?” He shifts my laptop to face him.

  I twist it back. “I’m studying. We’re at college, remember?”

  “Studying is for chumps. Let’s go play,” he teases. I catch Cute Guy at the next table grimacing.

  “No. And be quiet. There are people here trying to work.” I smile at Cute Guy.

  Ben looks at my laptop. “History? Yuck. Let’s get coffee and play Frisbee.”

  I squint at Ben and pick up my travel mug. “I have coffee.”

  “Good. Then we can skip to Frisbee. That’s what you’re supposed to do at NJU. I read it in the brochure.”

  “Did Megan already say no?” Sometimes I just can’t help being a bitch.

  Ben slumps and raises his eyebrows. “Jules, I want to play with you, not Megan. I’m sorry about last week. Don’t you know by now that I’m an idiot? Now shut your laptop and let’s go. It will be like the library…but fun.”

  When he puts it like that, how can I resist?

  Chase

  I walk into my apartment Sunday morning to the smell of waffles and eggs. In the kitchen, Gram doesn’t turn from the stove. “Chasey, if you say one word about this—”

  I walk behind her and wrap her in my arms.

  “I knew this would happen. I told Rob not to tell you. I don’t want you fawning over me. Why aren’t you at school? I see you more now than I did when you lived here.”

  “Gram. Stop.” I hold her tightly, more for me than her. “I won’t fawn. I promise.” I kiss her cheek, and she smiles. The smell of her perfume hits me like a brick. When I was little, I would crawl into her lap and that scent would calm me. “Do you feel all right?”

  “I feel fine. I can’t even believe anything’s wrong.”

  She’s lying and thinks I can’t tell. I give her the win and pretend to believe her. “Well, you look fantastic. Hottest Gram around.”

  She shakes her head and playfully shoves me. “Now get off of me so I can cook. Your uncle should be out in a minute.”

  “Great,” I mutter.

  She puts bread into the toaster and reaches for the plates. I grab them for her. “You’re going to have to learn to like him.” She hands me silverware and tips her chin toward the table.

  I start to set the table, and she holds out more dinnerware. “Why? I don’t even want him here.”

  Just as I say it, Rob walks into the room. “Morning to you, too. What are you doing here?”

  “I live here.” I use my Old Chase, snotty-kid voice, but resist the urge to add “asshole” to the end of the sentence. I see that as an improvement.

  “Chase!” Gram scolds. She hands me a plate of waffles. Historically, her breakfasts always cured my Sunday morning hangovers.

  We eat in silence. Gram moves her food around the plate. She doesn’t seem to want to talk, and I can’t talk to Rob about her with her sitting right there. The verbal diarrhea demon inside of me takes over and I blurt out, “Guess what?” I pause for effect and they both stop eating and look to me. “Sara emailed me.”

  Gram throws her fork onto her plate and the clank makes me flinch. “That’s more upsetting than anything else I’ve heard this week.”

  “Who’s Sara?” Rob asks.

  “My ex-girlfriend. She said she had to talk to me.”

  “She should talk to someone—a therapist, maybe—and leave you alone.” Gram picks up her fork and points it at me. “If you let her touch one hair on your head, I swear I’ll beat you! I don’t care if I go to jail for it. I’ll kick your butt.”

  “Gloria, she can’t be that bad.” Rob? Defending me?

  “Not that bad? She still owes me bail money.”

  “Bail?” Rob raises his eyebrows and looks at me.

  Ah, the memories. “Gram was gracious enough to bail us out of jail earlier this year. Ancient history.”

  “That girl has caused me more stress than I know what to do with. I thought it was over with you two. Helen said it was over.” Helen, Sara’s grandmother, was Gram’s best friend until Sara and I made a mess of everything.

  Rob throws down his fork. “Why did you even bring this up, Chase? You know she’s sick.” He points at Gram.

  “Because we talk about things, Rob. She said she didn’t want me to treat her differently. Just because you don’t have family to talk to—”

  “We’re his family, Chase Edward.” I cringe when she uses my middle name. “I’m glad he told me, Robert. With Sara, it’s better to know.” She turns back to me. “Do you know what she wants?”

  “Nope.”

  We eat the rest of the meal in silence. I clean the kitchen while Rob and Gram disappear to get ready for their day. Later, I walk them downstairs to the gallery and check out the new art. Gram always pushes me to hang my work in the gallery, but I never do. I want to show my work in a gallery I don’t partially own. I try not to think about the fact that Gram won’t be around to see my first show. I linger until things start to get busy, then kiss Gram goodbye and tell her I’ll call her later.
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  Outside, it’s humid. I struggle to breathe as the sun beats down. I instinctively look at the ballet studio and think of Juliet. I miss her already but remind myself that I’ll see her back at the dorm. Knowing I’ll still get to be around her makes the thought of her dating Ben tolerable. Sort of.

  I walk to the art store a few blocks away and buy pencils and a sketchpad, then find a bench at the small park near my house. I let my hands do the thinking and watch the sketch unfold on my lap. Juliet, as she looked in bed earlier, appears before me. How will I ever get her out of my mind?

  I sketch a few more pages until a pair of black boots stop in front of me. My eyes trail up a pair of skinny jeans and a tight, black tee shirt to pale skin and red lips. Her familiar face soothes me, but her new hair color surprises me. “You changed your hair.”

  “I got tired of being blonde. Thought I’d try red.” She almost looks like a normal chick when she smiles. “Hey, Coop.”

  As crazy as she is and as wrong as I know it to be, I have to smile back. “Hi, Sara.”

  I stand, and we walk together, in sync, in no direction in particular. She asks to see my sketchpad but I don’t let her. I don’t want to talk about Juliet. Memory Lane isn’t my favorite place, and I want to get the ball rolling. “You disappeared. I tried calling you.”

  She looks up at me. “I got your messages. I’m back now. I hear you’re a fancy college kid.”

  “I guess. What are you up to these days?”

  “Oh, this and that.” It’s a Helen phrase. We have an arsenal of Helen/Gloria phrases. “Trying to get my life in order.”

  “I guess we have that in common.” I lead her to a storefront window. “You needed to tell me something?” Roll, ball, roll.

  I look into her eyes, sinking in their blueness, seeing a depth of history only she and I share. We’ve known each other our whole lives, since our grandmothers brought us to the park together when we were babies. There’s something settling about knowing a person as well as I know Sara, but there’s also something dangerous about it, like a power I can’t control. I could get sucked into her vortex and release those past addictions knocking at my door.

  Sara looks down at her feet. “Okay, well, I’m in therapy.” Gram will be happy to hear that. “I’ve been working hard at trying to grow up. Now I see things differently—the things we went through.”

  I hate thinking about “the things we went through,” as Sara calls it. That day in the clinic turned into the worst day of my life, until yesterday when Rob told me Gram’s prognosis.

  Sara continues, “I thought I wanted to forget it all, especially you. But I don’t want to do that. I want to remember, but in a healthy way. You know?”

  I nod. “That’s good, Sara.”

  “I wanted to say I’m sorry, Coop. I was such a nightmare during that time, and I treated you so like shit. I forgot you had feelings, too. I was so selfish.”

  “It’s okay. I’m over it. Really, I am.” I’m not. I probably never will be. But I don’t want Sara to suffer. If all I can give her is my words, then I will.

  “I was scared. I didn’t think we could do it. I know you thought we could. You had faith in us.”

  “I don’t regret it. We did the right thing.” I pull her into a hug and stroke her new red hair. “We can’t go back and change it anyway.”

  Ironically, these are the same words I’d used to try to stop her from going to the clinic that day. I had grabbed the hood of her coat and jerked her back as she ran toward the doors. If you do this, I yelled outside the clinic, you can’t go back and change it! You’ll have to live with it forever!

  I regret not keeping the baby, but at the same time I probably would have regretted keeping it. Sara’s pregnancy was a lose-lose situation. At the clinic that day, we fought. I tried to convince her we could do it—I thought we could raise the baby together with Gram. In hindsight, I know it never would have worked out. Sara and I are toxic together, but I don’t blame her for anything. We were a couple of dumb kids and the whole thing was terrible beyond imagining.

  Against my better judgment, I push her hair over her ear, making contact. She stands on tiptoe, reaching her arms around my neck. We embrace on the street even as the rain starts to fall. Old Chase emerges, seeking the comfort of the familiar arms of his first friend and first love. New Chase screams at him to stop.

  We duck under an awning. “Why don’t we hang out today?” she asks. “Toast to the new-college-kid-Chase and intensive-out-patient-therapy-Sara?” Black smudges line her eyes, the rain taking its effect on her makeup, but she still manages to look sweet. She’s gotten away with so much over the years because she looks like a little porcelain doll on the outside, even though she sports a major devious streak on the inside.

  “I’m done with crazy shit, Sara. I’m really over that kind of thing.” Hooray for New Chase taking the wheel.

  She looks at the sky and puts her hands over her head. “It’s going to downpour on us any second. Are you up for just one drink? Do you still have your ID or was that too much ‘crazy shit’ for you to keep?”

  “No, I kept it. I’m not an idiot,” I joke, as the rain falls in droves. Sara hops on my back, and I give her a piggyback ride through the city streets, just as we had a million times before. She’s light as a feather. I squint through the rain and navigate the busy sidewalk.

  When Sara and I reach the bar, she whips out her ID with so much confidence that the bartender doesn’t even blink. Nothing will break her fearlessness—not an abortion, not being arrested, not a night in jail or the wrath of her grandmother. She’s a lot like Juliet. They both seem so strong and confident on the outside, but on the inside they’re damaged. Aren’t we all? Juliet thinks Ben can fix her. The thing is, I don’t think she needs to be fixed. Sara? Yes. Juliet? No. She’s perfect exactly the way she is.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Juliet

  Four years later, and it’s finally happening.

  Ben and I stand under a tree as the rain starts to fall. “Do you remember homecoming?”

  I nod. Homecoming is one of my favorite Ben memories. The dress, the party, the laughing. We’d gone together and I felt like Cinderella at the ball.

  “I should have had the guts then. And when I found out you were coming to NJU. And then again when you sat on my lap in the lounge last week.”

  “What exactly are you saying?” I want this to be clear, for the record.

  “I’m saying I’m sorry. I’m sorry it took so long for me to realize.”

  “Realize what?”

  Thunder rumbles. Ben moves closer, shielding me from the rain. “That it’s always been you, Jules. You’re the one who’s been there for me since the day I found you waiting on the bench. You’re the one who knows me, my family, my history. You’re here with me, so far from home. ”

  The rain steadies into an even rhythm. Ben touches my cheek and I reach to him. I’ve touched him a million times, but today it feels different. His words make it all different. I put my hand on his wet shoulder and squeeze. He’s standing here, soaking, protecting me again. Whether it’s from the big bad world or a few raindrops, he’s always protecting me.

  I pull him closer. “I need you. I always want to be where you are.” He smiles, and I heat from head to toe, but a flash of purple crosses my mind. Purple, trains, showers, beds. I’m back in the little room in the city, Chase’s hands on my skin, staring in bliss while he tells me I’m amazing.

  Chase…

  Ben’s voice brings me back. “Let’s do this. Let’s try. Can we?”

  I look into his brown eyes and exhale. “Why now? Just the other day you said I exhausted you.”

  Ben holds his fingers to my lips and shushes me. “I was out of my mind. Do you know what I did that night when I left you in the lounge?”

  I shake my head.

  “I went back to my room and called Evan.”

  “Evan? Why?” Ben’s brother Evan is a dream but not exactly ex
perienced in the women department.

  “Because he’s always honest with me.”

  “What did he say?”

  “He said if I let you go again, I’ll lose you. He reminded me how special you are and that you weren’t going to stick around forever waiting for me.”

  I smirk. “I always liked him best.” Of Ben’s four older brothers, Evan is the coolest.

  “You mean besides me?” Ben grins wide.

  I shrug. “You’re okay, I guess.”

  He gasps and leans into me, pushing me against the tree. “Kiss me, Juliet Anderson.”

  This is finally going to happen. It’s finally happening. With my arms around his big frame, I decide to never let him go. With smooth bark on my back, warm arms around my waist, Benjamin Riley leans in and kisses me, gently, with beautiful, soft lips.

  Ben’s kiss is perfect, everything I’d dreamed it would be. It’s warm and safe and amazing.

  Chase…

  I stiffen, open my eyes and snap back to reality. I’m kissing Ben—my Ben, after all this time. I inhale and fill my lungs with the moist air. The rainy scent of fall relaxes me. We move further under the shield of leaves as we kiss, like we’re shooting the final scene of a romantic movie.

  Ben stops and smiles, his lips close to mine. “Why’d we wait so long to do that?”

  “Good question.” You tell me.

  “So? What do you say?”

  I want to say yes. My brain screams at me to say it, but memories of Chase stop me and I hear myself say, “I need time.”

  He traces my jaw with his finger and pinches my chin. “You gave me four years. I’m not going anywhere.”

  We kiss until we’re soaking wet. When I start to shiver, he grabs my bag and we run back to the dorm hand-in-hand. We fling open the door to room one, and Pooja groans as we drip all over the floor. “You two brought a rainbow in here with you. You filled the room with color.”

  Ben and I beam at each other. He drops my bag onto the floor and twists his fingers around mine.