by Marci Bolden
“Why now?” Jade asked, distracting Darby.
Darby shrugged. “Why not now?”
Jade tilted her head in that mom-knows-best way. “Because changing things up now, tonight, makes it seem like this change is a direct reaction to Jennifer Williams and her shitty video of lies.”
Darby swallowed. “I thought maybe…maybe now isn’t the best time to be standing out.”
“You’re not changing because of her,” Taylor said.
Darby poked at a strawberry sitting atop a big scoop of vanilla ice cream. “You guys don’t get it.”
“I get it,” Taylor stated. “And you’re not changing because of her.”
“It’s not because of her. It’s because…a bunch of people on my website called me fake. They’re right. I am fake.” Tears burned Darby’s eyes as she looked from Taylor to Jade and then back to her ice cream. “All this is a facade. A big fat act to…to keep people away. I’m fun to gawk at and snap a picture with and admire from afar, but this”—she gestured toward her red hair—“is like armor. When people look at me because of my hair or my clothes, I know they’re looking at me because of things I can change. I can’t change my ethnicity or my body shape, but I can control what they see. But it’s fake. It’s a facade so they don’t see me. What she did today… She broke through my armor and exposed me in a way that… She made me look bad on the inside. I’m not bad on the inside.”
“No,” Jade said grasping her hand, “you are beautiful, Darby. Inside and out.”
“You guys are my best friends. You have to say that.”
“We’re your best friends because of that. We wouldn’t be your friends if you were ugly on the inside.”
“You’re friends with me, and I’m dead and rotting inside.” Taylor smiled when Darby chuckled. Clearly that was her intent.
“Don’t let her make you feel bad about yourself. Or your appearance. Or your intentions,” Jade continued.
Darby sniffled as she looked at Taylor.
“I’m still up for burning down her house.”
After wiping her cheeks, Darby dragged her palms over her pants. “I’m back in high school again.”
“You’re not,” Taylor said. “And you’re not fake. We’re going to fix this.”
“What do I do in the meantime?” Darby asked. “Maybe you haven’t noticed how people are looking at me, but I have. They hate me.”
“Nobody hates you,” Taylor said.
“You’re going to apologize,” Jade said. “Take off the descriptions and apologize.”
“I think she should take her shop down altogether,” Taylor said. “Delete it and be done.”
Jade shook her head before Taylor finished. “That’s admitting guilt without saying a word.”
“She should at least turn off the messages.”
“I already did,” Darby said before Jade could argue. “They were getting too mean.”
“You can turn off your messages,” Jade said, “turn off comments, but you cannot close your shop. You can’t run and hide.”
“She should at least post a video of her own,” Taylor said. “Clarify what Jennifer said.”
Jade shook her head, but before she could argue, Darby dropped her spoon, clinking it against her dish.
“Stop,” she spat, tired of hearing them snip at each other over how to handle her problems. “Look, I think Taylor’s right. I should take down my shop and donate what I have left. Thrift stores will take those dresses. I need to bow out before I’m completely cancelled. Then I can try to make a comeback under a different name later.”
“You’re not going to run,” Jade insisted.
“You don’t know how ugly this is going to get,” Darby said as tears burned her eyes. “People are going to start being savage toward me because it’s trendy. I’m about to get obliterated online. I’ve seen this happen a thousand times. It’s going to get bad.”
“No,” Jade insisted. “We’re not going to let that happen.”
Taylor scoffed. “And how are you going to stop it, Jade? You can’t control the Internet.”
“Stop fighting,” Darby said quietly. “Not over this. Not over me.”
“We’re not fighting,” Jade said.
“Nobody’s even thrown a punch yet,” Taylor said and then grinned again. “I’m kidding. We’re not fighting. We’re disagreeing because we want to do what’s best for you.”
Pushing her ice cream away, Darby frowned. “I think… I think I have to disappear.”
“Darby,” Jade begged. “We can fix this. Don’t abandon all your hard work.”
Darby considered the suggestions. Even if Jade thought she could fix this and Taylor thought she could help Darby barrel through, she had seen this before. She knew how bad this was going to get before it got better. She never thought she’d be on the receiving end of it, though.
“Fine. I won’t shut down the shop. Yet,” Darby said to Jade as she stood. “But if things don’t get better, and fast, Darby Zamora is going dark. Poof. Gone.”
And with that, she turned and walked out of Harper’s for effect. And because she didn’t want to cry in front of strangers.
As she’d done earlier in the day, Darby stared at her reflection for a long time, this time to adjust to the new hair color. Her signature bright red hair was now a few shades darker than her natural near-black strands. She hadn’t seen her hair like this for years. She wasn’t really digging it, but the hair and her clothes—black capris and a white fitted shirt—blended in. And she’d decided that was a good thing.
For now. This seemed like a good time to go back to blending into the background.
Names like freak, dork, and nerd might roll off others, but they were like spears to Darby’s sensitive heart. She’d become an ace at avoiding those kinds of attacks back in high school. The first step was to blend into the background as much as possible. Something Darby had come to loathe was her best chance at survival. Turning herself back into a nobody, becoming like everyone else, hiding her true self away in an isolated tower somewhere like freaking Rapunzel.
Darby assessed the large supply of makeup and hair care products on her vanity. When she’d first decided to change up her look, she’d spent her entire paycheck—which wasn’t as much as some—on new makeup. She’d watched video after video until she’d mastered fake lashes, eyeliner wings, and lip liner. She’d learned the importance of a good foundation and finishing spray. Those things might have seemed silly to others, but they had saved her.
Grabbing her trash can, she made a sweeping motion, knocking the bottles, tubes, and sprays into the bin. Her soul ached as she thought about how much she loved each and every one of them. Maybe she should keep them. Just in case.
“No,” she muttered to herself.
She set the can down and pushed herself up. However, she didn’t even make it to the bedroom door before turning around. “I’ll save them for later,” she said and set the trash can inside her closet so the products were still there but she wouldn’t have to see them all the time.
“Hello,” Jade called from the other room.
When Jade had first moved to Chammont Point, she’d constantly lectured Darby about knocking before entering. Darby had countered that if Jade didn’t want her best friend walking in, she should lock the door. At first Jade insisted that didn’t make sense; however, now Jade walked into Darby’s house as freely as Darby walked into hers.
That was a good thing most of the time. That made them feel more like family.
But this was one time when Darby wished she’d remembered to lock the door.
She wasn’t up for company. She needed more time to get used to this new version of herself before sharing the changes with her friends. No doubt Jade and Taylor wouldn’t understand Darby’s need to camouflage herself while under attack. They wouldn’t understand that this was the best way.
Jade popped into the bedroom and her smile fell. “Darby,” she whispered.
Darby swa
llowed hard and then smiled. Without her thick application of bright red lipstick, her lips felt odd. Her smile felt fake. It was fake.
“What have you done?” Jade whispered as she came into the room. She gingerly touched Darby’s much darker hair, and concern filled her eyes. “Honey, this isn’t—”
“It’s okay,” Darby said, stepping around her. “I like it.”
“Do you?” Jade asked, following behind her.
Darby yanked her fridge door open and scanned the contents. She really could go for some of her mom’s comfort food right now. Her mom had been the best cook. A heaviness settled over Darby’s chest as she remembered all the times her mom would hug her close and remind her that even if Darby didn’t have the best clothes or the nicest house, she had a really good heart. And then she’d serve up some barbacoa and all would feel right in the world.
Tears welled in Darby’s eyes as she stared at her near-bare fridge. She should have learned to cook like her mom. She shouldn’t have acted like she was above cooking. In Darby’s mind, her mom’s dreams of owning a restaurant had undermined her ability to provide more for them. Her mom had worked in a restaurant, hoping to learn what she needed to know. Instead, she’d spent her life working a minimum wage job for someone else.
After she’d died of a heart attack, Darby had been lost. In fact, she still was.
She sniffled as Jade walked into the kitchen. Closing the fridge, she turned, and her resolve shattered at the sympathy on Jade’s face. Darby’s hope and happiness crumbled into a million pieces.
“I want my mom,” she whispered.
Jade enveloped her in a big hug as Darby let her tears go. Although Jade was the so-called maternal one of the group, her embrace wasn’t nearly as comforting as Darby’s mom’s had been. Even so, Darby couldn’t deny the sense of love and belonging. She clung harder. Cried harder.
“I’m sorry Taylor and I made things worse for you,” Jade said.
“You didn’t.”
“We did, but we weren’t trying to.”
“Taylor isn’t really going to hurt someone. She doesn’t express her anger well, that’s all.” Leaning back, Darby looked at Jade’s face. “You know this.”
“Yeah,” Jade said. “I do. But this is a serious situation, and her threats of violence are distractions that don’t help.”
“She’s trying in her own way. You know she won’t act on them.”
“That’s not the point. The point is, we don’t need that right now.”
“Are you okay?” Darby asked after a few seconds. “You’re usually the one defending Taylor.”
Jade nodded. “I know. But today, right now, we need to focus on real solutions to what’s going on with you. It’s going to be okay,” Jade said softly. She stroked Darby’s hair and kissed her head. “I promise. It’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t understand.” Darby moved around Jade and dropped onto her sofa. After snagging a tissue, she blew her nose twice and then slumped down into a slouchy, miserable mess. “I thought I’d finally outgrown feeling like such a loser, Jade.”
Easing down, Jade brushed a few now-black strands from Darby’s face. “You aren’t a loser. Babe, this is a ripple in your life. Nothing is ruined. And we aren’t going to let people come after you.”
“This is a game to them, you know? Ruining lives is a joke to people like that. They don’t understand how much hurt they cause when they do this.”
“I know. But you aren’t alone in this, Darby. You have friends—friends who are going to help you. Taylor and I are right here, ready to fight for you. With you. We are going to do everything we can to defend you and your boutique from this attack.”
Darby leaned over enough to rest her head on Jade’s shoulder. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” Jade rested her head on Darby’s. “Is there anything I can do to make today better?”
“Make me some barbacoa and tell me I have a good heart.”
Jade was quiet for a moment before saying, “How about if I order you some from La Cocina and tell you that you have a beautiful heart? The most beautiful heart I’ve ever known.”
Darby blinked and smiled slightly. “Can I have extra tortillas?”
“Of course,” Jade agreed.
With her mood marginally lifted, Darby pushed herself up. “I’m going to make a big pitcher of margaritas, nonalcoholic for you, and set the table outside. I think we should eat in the sunshine, don’t you?”
“Sounds good,” Jade said.
Darby glanced back when Jade rambled into the phone. After only a few seconds, she realized Jade was inviting Taylor, and Darby’s spirits felt even lighter. The thought of sharing her favorite comfort food with her best friends as they sat in their cove made all her problems fade away. There were few things Darby loved more than planning little moments like this. She wasn’t much of a cook, but she had so much fun setting the scene.
By the time Taylor arrived with the order from La Cocina that Jade had called in, there were three perfectly salt-rimmed margarita glasses on the table. Darby’s favorite funky dishes had been set out, and her speaker was playing salsa music from a streaming service. This felt like a party for three, ready to roll.
Despite the cloud hanging over her, Darby rushed toward Taylor to help with the bags of food.
“What happened to your hair?” Taylor asked as Darby neared her.
“I decided to change the color,” Darby answered flatly. “Did they add extra tortillas?”
“I hope so. Jade paid for them.”
“I’ll pay her back.”
“No you won’t,” Jade said, joining them as set their dinner on the table. “This is my treat.” She reached into a bag and pulled out something rolled in foil. “Extra tortillas.”
Darby clapped with glee before reaching for them. She smelled the foil and closed her eyes. “Yes! They are still warm.” Darby opened the container with barbacoa in it, inhaled deeply, and moaned her appreciation. “I love you, Jade.”
Jade smiled and blew her a kiss before settling into a chair to eat her salad. “How was your day?” she asked Taylor.
“Long. I put up some kitchen cabinets in this old lady’s house. I had to yell at her all day because she refused to put in her hearing aids. My helper for the day smelled like he hadn’t showered in weeks. I really need to find a steady crew, but I can’t justify it when my projects are still so random. Darby, why did you do that to your hair?” Taylor’s tone came across as genuinely confused and concerned. “You like your hair red.”
Darby shrugged. “Like I said yesterday, I shouldn’t stand out so much right now.”
She ignored the concerned glances that passed between her friends. Though she adored Jade and Taylor, the truth was, they had only been friends for a year. They didn’t know Darby well enough to understand that she needed to slink into a corner right now. She needed to withdraw and assess. She needed to not be in the midst of the chaos she usually thrived in.
She needed peace. She needed to be invisible.
Six
The grocery store was about to close when Darby ducked inside. She had waited until late in the evening to go shopping, hoping to avoid the crowd. The last thing she wanted to do was run into someone who might be willing to confront her. She’d pulled a fedora down low on her forehead and added sunglasses to hide her face. The look was straight out of a trashy tabloid magazine, but Darby was determined to not be recognized.
She ignored the stares and an associate who asked if she needed help as she snagged a basket. Clutching the bright blue basket like it could save her life, she rushed straight to the veggie section and grabbed three avocados, two tomatoes, and a handful of jalapenos without checking the ripeness. Like a woman on a mission, she headed for the snack aisle, where she nabbed two bags of tortilla chips without seeing which ones were on sale. She didn’t have time for that. She knew what brand she liked and was willing to pay a few extra cents for them if it saved her time.
That would be enough to get her through a day or two of emotional eating. The last thing on her list was replacing the tube of near-empty eyebrow gel, which she seriously debated leaving without.
She was almost done. Almost home free. Did she really need cosmetics? Really?
The debate wasn’t really one she needed to have. She rushed toward the familiar corner of the store. She knew exactly what she needed and exactly where to find it. The detour would only add a few minutes to her trip.
However, as she turned the corner, her breath caught. She hadn’t wanted anyone confronting her, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t up for confronting someone else.
Jennifer Williams stood in front of the display of eye shadows, holding palettes in each hand as if she couldn’t decide which one to go with. Usually when Darby saw someone being indecisive in the makeup aisle, she rushed forth to help them with their debate. She especially loved when the target of her assistance was a teenager who seemed to be starting out in the wonderful world of colors. She could talk forever to those girls about skin tone, blending, and contrast.
Back when she was in high school, Darby would have given anything to have someone teach her about those things. She would have eaten up every word, and Darby found that most of the girls she found in these aisles did when she offered advice. Every now and then, she considered offering lessons to young ladies who needed that extra boost of confidence makeup often offered.
However, when Darby saw Jennifer standing there, offering makeup tips was the last thing on her mind. And boosting her confidence? Not even on the list. However, suggestions on where to shove the eye shadow palettes came to mind. The idea brought a little sunshine to Darby’s cloudy mood.
