Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace)

Home > Other > Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) > Page 20
Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) Page 20

by K Anne Raines


  The thought of the only positive in her life being a dreamless night left an even worse taste in her mouth than the morning funk already taking up residence there.

  And there it was again, her crappy mood was back.

  She stomped to the bathroom, went pee, and brushed her teeth, then brushed again for good measure. But the second brushing did little to alleviate the rancid taste of reality.

  She put on a pair of capri jeans and a light blue tank, grabbed a pair of white flats and her backpack, and stormed like a mini tornado to the kitchen. The buoyant Laney beat her there.

  “Good morning,” her mom’s voice sang, a smile brimming from behind her coffee cup.

  “Mm-hmm,” Grace murmured, not interested in niceties this morning.

  “Are you alright?” Laney asked as she placed her coffee cup down on the counter.

  Tired of pretending and sick of biting her tongue, Grace didn’t care about saying what her mom, or anyone else, wanted to hear. “No, I’m not alright and no, I don’t want to talk about it. I’ve had a horrible couple of weeks and I just want to get through the rest of this one. Okay?”

  “Okay,” Laney said, turning back to her coffee.

  “But you wouldn’t know about any of it,” Grace continued. “Because you’ve been too busy with your new friend.”

  Laney slowly put her coffee cup back on the counter and leaned against it, staying silent for a couple of heartbeats. Grace wasn’t sure if she should brace herself or run, so she defiantly stiffened. “What?” she asked her mom, ready to get this over with.

  “Are you ready to talk now?”

  Who was this woman? The Laney that Grace had known over the years didn’t have time for heart-to-hearts. Now she wanted to have them left and right. Grace definitely needed to ask Quentin if there were aliens, too. An alien abduction would explain her mom’s strange and out-of-character behavior. Forget it! That would mean she’d have to speak to Quentin, and she didn’t plan on doing that anytime soon. If ever.

  Thinking about the way he had kissed her the night before made her face heat up again. Then she remembered it was a pity kiss, and her face still burned, but for a different reason.

  Her head lolled forward a little in shame of the card she was about to play. “No, I don’t want to talk. I’m sorry for being crabby. I think I’m about to start my period.”

  “Oh,” her mom said. “That explains it.” Well, it might explain it, but it didn’t explain what was wrong with Grace. “Have you taken any Midol? I have some in my purse if you need it.”

  And just like that, she went from feeling brave enough to say what was on her mind, to hiding behind Midol and tampons. It just kept getting better. What would make it truly memorable would be if Quentin could join in on the Mother Nature talk.

  As if on cue, Quentin walked into the kitchen. Perfect!

  “…make sure to take enough extra with you to get you through school,” her mother continued, oblivious to the member of the opposite sex entering the kitchen. “Nothing worse than cramps and bloating.”

  Oh, she was so wrong. There was nothing worse than getting the time-of-the-month pep talk while in the presence of a guy. Grace would take a healthy dose of private cramps and bloating any day of the week. She couldn’t respond. She stood wide-eyed and slack-mouthed, too dumbfounded to know what to say.

  “What?” her mom asked, eyes going wide at Grace’s sudden change.

  Quentin cleared his throat. “Mornin’,” he mumbled with a sly grin. Grace’s eyes closed to slits, glaring her morning “hello.” After he was done rummaging for food, he left the kitchen. Laney leaned toward Grace, lowering her voice to barely above a whisper. “Did he hear all of that?”

  “He heard enough.” Grace sighed.

  As Grace walked out of the house and toward her car, she had to remind her feet to keep moving forward. If her morning so far was any indication of how the rest of her day was going to go, she was better off going back inside to finish smothering herself with the pillow. The responsible side of her brain urged her to ignore the inevitable and head to school anyway.

  A few steps before reaching her car, Quentin stepped in front of her. “Can we talk about last night?” His hand nervously twitched at his side.

  “I’m going to be late.” Grace sidestepped him for the door.

  “Well,” he said behind her. “We need to talk about it.”

  Determined to ensure he knew she meant business, she whirled around. “No, we need to forget about it.” Without looking back, she got into her car and drove to school.

  By the end of sixth period, Grace was relieved her day had been more of the same—no surprises, and nothing like her morning. It was pretty boring. Turn in homework, get assigned more homework, discuss midterms.

  Amanda still refused to talk to her; she wouldn’t even look at her. Leah predictably nattered about Brian and the party. Emily barely acknowledged Grace at lunch, only through intermittent mouthfuls of food and Tommy. Grace wondered if she should be mourning her best friend right along with her grandfather.

  Zeke, however, surprised her. He still waited for her after every class, carrying her books, periodically asking if she was alright, and if she and Amanda had worked things out yet. He even walked her to her car. For today, Grace was glad for his persistence.

  By the time Friday morning came around, her anger toward Quentin had dissipated, but not entirely. She somehow managed to talk to him without spewing venom, which was a step in the right direction.

  “We should start training this weekend,” he said, while grabbing a bowl for his usual Cocoa Pebbles.

  “I know.” Okay, so she was able to talk without throwing word daggers at him, but that didn’t mean she was ready to carry on long-winded conversations.

  “What day works best?”

  “Tomorrow. I have the party tonight,” Grace said, as Quentin sat down next to her.

  Pulling the now empty spoon from his mouth, he turned to her, his mouth full of cereal. “Party?”

  “Yeah,” Grace said, already getting frustrated. She focused on her breathing. “You know … friends, music, dancing.”

  “Ha ha.” Quentin sounded just as frustrated as Grace felt. “I know what a party is. When and where?”

  His giving her the third degree was a constant invasion of her privacy, and she was beginning to hate it. She wondered how her grandfather had dealt with it. “Eight o’clock.” She blew out a breath. “Just outside of town at Brian’s house.”

  He took a couple more bites, and talked again with his mouth full. “You know I’ll—”

  “Have to go with. Yeah, I figured.” Grace rolled her eyes. After her eyes rolled back to front and center, she noticed Quentin seemed hurt by her lack of enthusiasm in him going. For a second, she felt bad and almost apologized, and then she remembered the other night. Without any more thought, she scooted her chair back and got up. She put her dishes in the dishwasher, and tossed over her shoulder, “I’m leaving for school.” She didn’t hear the scrape of Quentin’s chair, but knew he’d be right behind her.

  Amanda walked into first period just as the bell rang, like she had the last couple of days—straight to her desk, no quick glances, nothing. Grace watched as Amanda swiveled in her seat to sit angled outward—away from her—facing more toward Miss Township’s desk in the corner. If it weren’t test day, Grace would have thrown an airplane note, or snuck in a whisper. Something. But instead, she sucked it up and kept quiet. Grace finished her test a little before the end of the period. She looked up just as Amanda walked to Miss Township’s desk, handed in her test, and left the classroom. Unless Amanda was at her locker, or just happened to show up at lunch, Grace wouldn’t get a chance to talk to her. Maybe she’ll be at the party? Probably not, she thought. Jackass Charming probably has a business trip. She so needed to get over it. Amanda was going to do what Amanda wanted to do, no matter what. The thought of letting Amanda do something so stupid without trying to get her to thin
k it over made Grace’s stomach hurt. Nope, no getting over it, she needed to talk to her.

  Grace didn’t see Amanda the rest of the day. Her mood teetered between relief and disappointment. She didn’t want to have another public catfight, but she didn’t want to continue to be on the outs with Amanda either. Amanda was Amanda, but she loved her regardless.

  “So, I’ll see you tonight?” Zeke asked from outside the Shelby as he put her backpack in the backseat.

  “Uh, yeah,” she said slowly. She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and couldn’t help being blunt. “You know we’re just friends, right?” Embarrassment warmed her cheeks for asking, but she liked Zeke and didn’t want to hurt his feelings by allowing him to think they were something they weren’t.

  “Yeah, I know.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his cargo shorts. “I’ll see you later.” She watched as he walked back through the parking lot and to his car.

  Feeling a little guilty, she sighed before turning back around. She didn’t have to see Quentin’s car to know he was in his usual spot. She’d felt his eyes boring into her ever since she and Zeke got to her car. Too weak to stick to her own personal promise of not looking, she peeked at his parking spot. Sure enough, he was there—window rolled down, shades covering his eyes. The gaze of his stare was so intense, Grace could see the burn of liquid silver through the dark lenses. Abruptly, she turned her attention back to the road, driving the remainder of the way home trying not to glance in her side or rearview mirrors.

  When she drove closer to the manor, Grace noticed cars parked on either side of the road, along with a few parked in the driveway. “What the hell?” she said out loud.

  Pulling through the brick pillars on either side of the driveway, she noticed a sign that read “Darlene’s Estate Sales.” A sudden urge to strangle her mother took away any ability she had to stay calm. After slamming the gearshift into park, she swung the car door open and rushed up the steps like a crazy person. A very angry, out of control, crazy person.

  “Grace!” Quentin called out from behind her.

  Completely ignoring him, she body-slammed the door open. “Mom!” she yelled as loud as she could. Strangers were everywhere, touching her grandfather’s things, and all turned to see what the crazy little commotion was all about. “Where are you?” Grace continued to yell as she took the stairs two at a time toward her mother’s room.

  “She’s not here,” a female voice called up from the bottom of the stairwell. “So keep your voice down. You’re going to scare all the buyers off.”

  Grace stopped dead in her tracks, stunned. When people said they were so angry they saw red, she assumed it was a figure of speech. It wasn’t. A film of red covered her sight, making it nearly impossible for her to see past her anger long enough to focus on the woman standing like she belonged in the middle of her house. “What are you doing?” Grace seethed, loud enough for most of the strangers in the house to hear. “More importantly, how’d you even get in?”

  Rose’s thin lips pulled into a smug line. “My dad used to live here too once upon a time. He had a key.”

  Grace shook her head in disbelief, and pushed a breath through her pursed mouth. “Yeah, before I was born. You have five minutes to get yourself and all these people the hell out of my house before I call the cops.”

  “Your house?” her cousin Rose said with a pfft. “You can’t be serious.” Rose stared at her accusingly, then gripped her hips with her bony hands.

  “Oh, I’m dead serious. Get. Out. Now!” Grace yelled, loud enough this time for everyone to hear, balling her fists at her sides.

  “What are you going to do with all this stuff?” Rose said, with hands waving around the room. “And this house, and all the money Christophe left you, you greedy little brat? You don’t need all of it.”

  “And you do? I’m pretty sure you received enough money. And I’m positive part of your inheritance wasn’t worry. So don’t worry about what I’m going to do with any of it, or if I need it.” Grace dramatically pointed at the watch on her left wrist. “Four minutes.”

  Rose was nearly fifty, over a decade older than Grace’s mother, but she stomped her foot like she was five. “It’s too late,” Rose tried to reason.

  “I don’t care. If anybody walks out of this house or off the property with anything, they’re going to jail and so are you.” Grace swung her arm up, making sure the watch was in front of her eyes. “Three minutes.”

  “Fine!” Rose hissed out through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t over.”

  Ooh, Grace mimed with mouth and hands. Triumph moved her limbs down a couple of steps. She loved knowing she was getting under Rose’s skin.

  “Two minutes,” Grace counted down.

  Grace followed on Rose’s heels through the house, not sure where her cousin was headed. Rose pulled aside a younger woman dressed in an off-white suit, whom Grace assumed was Darlene, the estate sale lady, and had a terse, whispered conversation that included lots of arm-waving and gesturing. She overheard something about reimbursements and non-refundable deposits, and caught Rose’s eye to point at her watch once again. Grace didn’t care if Rose had to fork over any money. She just wanted her and everyone else out.

  Another fifteen minutes and the house was cleared. Darlene guaranteed no one had left with any of Grace’s belongings and continued to apologize for the misunderstanding. Grace thanked her and finally shut the door behind her as she left. A small knock on the door just seconds after Darlene left had Grace grabbing the handle with exasperation.

  “Yes?” she said snidely as she opened the door.

  Rose stood on the front porch in her bully stance, her eyes menacing as she spat out, “I meant what I said earlier.”

  “Whatever.” Unimpressed, Grace shut the door in her face.

  “You’re messing with the wrong person, Grace,” Rose yelled through the closed door.

  She turned the lock on the door handle and dead bolt, and stumbled mentally exhausted up the stairs and to her room. She hadn’t seen Quentin since she got out of her car earlier, but she was too tired to worry about it. Setting the alarm on her cell, she collapsed on her bed for a little nap before the party.

  From the dark recesses of her mind, Grace could make out a faint, relentless buzzing sound. She wanted it to stop. She finally felt peaceful. Like an annoying fly, she swatted at it. Something clanked loudly to the floor, and she realized it was her phone. And it probably just shattered. Finally completely awake, however reluctantly, she hung over the side of her bed and picked it up. No cracks, it was fine. The screen was lit up with an incoming text from Emily, asking if Grace wanted to ride to the party with her and Tommy. After replying yes, she scrambled out of bed. Somehow she had managed to sleep through her alarm. In fact, she’d slept for a couple of hours. Emily and Tommy would be there to get her in forty minutes.

  She hurried to her closet, grabbing a pair of white capris, sandals, and her yellow silk halter that tied around the neck, then ran into the bathroom. She freshened up a little, changed, and touched up her makeup. By the time she was finished, she had only ten minutes until her ride was supposed to show up. Not knowing if there would be food, she hurried to the kitchen and slapped together a sandwich, standing over the sink to wolf it down so she wouldn’t have to mess up a plate.

  A slight noise behind her alerted her to Quentin’s presence. Of course, he wouldn’t show up and try to talk to her until her mouth was full. Quentin stopped just shy of the island and gave her a serious look. “I’ll just be outside if you need anything, including a ride if there’s any drinking.”

  “You don’t have to stay outside and play G.A.,” she said with her mouth full.

  “What the hell is a G.A.?”

  Grace smiled, but kept her lips over her teeth in case she had any food stuck in them. “Guardian angel.”

  “Ah, cute. I need to stay outside.”

  Confused, she stopped eating. “Why?”

/>   “Because,” he said, turning away from her. “You’re still upset and if I’m there, you won’t be able to have a good time. After the last couple of weeks and today, you’re due for some fun.”

  Taken aback by the sudden lump of emotion stuck in her throat, she struggled to swallow. “Thank you, but I’ll get over it, Quentin … really.”

  He smiled thinly when he met her eyes. “I know you will. I’ll be here when you do.” Before she could respond, he turned to leave the kitchen. “I’ll be right behind you when you leave.”

  The comfort in knowing he was going to be watching over her returned and warmed her from the inside out. Quentin had been a beacon of comfort and dependability since the moment he’d first stepped into her life after her grandfather’s funeral. If only he wasn’t such a pain in the ass…

  Cars were lined up side by side in the driveway and on the grassy lawn on the front and sides of Brian’s house. The house was alive and inviting. All the windows and doors were open. Smoke from the bonfire out back billowed like a welcome sign against the periwinkle twilight sky. The night’s weather was perfect, upper seventies with gentle warm breezes. Music surrounded Grace, pulling her and her friends closer as they stepped onto the walkway, the house bouncing with every beat.

  Grace, Emily, and Tommy could hardly get through the front door without pushing their way in. A swarm of people danced in unison to the rhythm pulsing from the oversized speakers on either side of the fireplace. Tommy guided Emily and Grace through the crowd with a hand on the small of their backs. “Do you guys want something to drink?” Tommy yelled above the music, once they were far enough away from the makeshift dance floor.

  “Sure,” Emily hollered back.

  “What about you?” he asked Grace.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  Grace tried to keep her hands palms down against her thighs, not wanting to touch anyone. She’d dealt with enough of her own drama for one day. She didn’t need to feel anyone else’s.

 

‹ Prev