by Jenni James
How did he know? I sat up and tucked my feet under me. “Why would you say that?”
“What do you do with your allowance money?” He was persistent, wasn’t he?
“Are you going to keep hounding me until I tell you?”
“Quite possibly.”
“Urgh.” I took a deep breath. “Fine. I guess my allowance money goes to pay for my cafeteria lunch.”
“Couldn’t that be considered child abuse? Forcing a kid to get good grades so they can eat nasty food has to be some sort of offense in Arizona. I’m certain of it.”
“Ha. Yeah, no.”
He was silent for a minute and then asked, “Do you get any other allowance?”
“No.”
“Nothing? Not for shoes, or shampoo, or a random candy bar?”
“What are you talking about? No. But it’s no big deal.”
“Who buys those things for you?’
“Holy cow, Bryant. My aunt and uncle do. I’m not deprived!”
“Hey, I just have to ask. But I’m glad to hear they take care of the essentials.”
I plucked at the blanket under me. “Though, I wish I got my allowance for grades,” I said. “I’d make a whole lot more than my cousins do.”
“You get good grades?”
“School’s pretty easy. And I sort of love learning. Which is great since I have so much time on my hands.”
“So what’s your allowance for? Cleaning? Chores? Don’t your cousins do jobs?”
“They’re way too busy. Especially after school. They come home in time for dinner and then they pretty much crash from exhaustion.”
“I get what you’re saying. Little Cinderella does all the housework and she’s grounded a lot, and if she doesn’t do everything she’s supposed to, Aunt Clarise won’t refill her school lunch cards.”
He nailed it. I chuckled. “Good grief. When you put it that way, my life sounds horrid.”
He didn’t say anything. I thought he’d at least laugh or something.
“What?” I asked.
“Indy?”
I couldn’t figure out why he wouldn’t come out and say it. “Yes?”
“Why are you so nice?”
I laughed. All of this quiet over some false belief that I was nice. “You’ve gone off the deep end again. Why do you keep coming to the conclusion that I’m nice? Have you forgotten the several death threats I’ve given you the past few weeks?”
“No, but I deserved those.”
“Uh, no one deserves to die over an accident. I was—well, I still am—torked. But I’ll get over it.”
“Do you miss her?”
“Mrs. Wiggins? Every day.” I stopped plucking at the blanket. “I would’ve been petting her right now. She loved to curl up on my bed with me.”
“I wish there was a way I could go back in time and—”
“It’s okay, Bryant. If you want to know the truth, she knew better than to go out into that road. She was almost six years old. I don’t know why she darted or what she was thinking, but it’s actually really bad of me to blame you for something that was no one’s fault.”
“And now we’re back to you being so nice.” I could hear him shift around. “I’m serious. You’re basically a servant in your own family’s home, and you cover for them. And you’re sweet when you talk about them. Why is that?”
“Oh, believe me, I think of plenty awful things to say all the time. I don’t exactly love cooking and cleaning and being grounded constantly. I guess the real word you’re looking for here is ‘patient.’ Why am I so patient?” I went to pet my cat, but stopped my hand in midair. “I don’t know why. Maybe because they’re the only real family I have now.”
“Well, there is that.” He went quiet for a minute and then said, “There’s something about you that’s addicting, and I think I finally figured it out.”
“What?”
“Now hold on and don’t interrupt me with obnoxious contradictions. This is what I feel about you—this is how I see you. And remember, you asked for it.”
Oh, great. I couldn’t even imagine how embarrassing his next words would be.
“You’re so addicting because you’re an old soul. You see past the negativity—and believe me, you have a lot of negative going on right now—and though you may grumble, you see past it and cope. The hard things thrown your way don’t cripple you—you find ways to stay human and caring and leave your footprint on the world.”
I clutched the phone tighter to my ear. I’d never considered myself that way, but it was deeply moving.
“Indy, there’s this incredibly amazing person under your ultra-snarky and fun personality. I’m not sure why any guy wouldn’t want to dig deeper and take the time to get to know you. You have so many layers and hidden secrets in your attempts to shield others from your crazy life—it impresses me. You don’t seem the type to sit and gossip about stuff and find things to complain about. I think you’re pretty chill with whatever life throws at you.”
“I like a little drama and gossip as much as the next girl.”
“You do? So you’re the type who’ll sit and moan to your friends because some other chick wore a pair of shoes you didn’t like, or whose makeup wasn’t done the way you thought it should be? That’s you?”
What in the world? “Er, no. Not now, not ever. I couldn’t care less what people wear. If they feel happy and pretty in it, who am I to judge?”
“See? That’s what I’m talking about. That’s what makes you so—so mature, I guess is the word I’m looking for. You’re not caught up in petty things, and I can’t really see you throwing some massive temper tantrum because you didn’t get to use Daddy’s car Saturday night.”
“The analogy is all wrong, but I understand what you mean.”
“So, what’s your secret?”
I shrugged and fluffed up my pillow and then slowly scrunched down. “I don’t know. I guess when I lost my mom, I realized that there were more important things in life than drama. All of a sudden, I went from being a princess to—well, basically a pauper, and that changed me.” I took a deep breath and tried not to think too much about how much I missed her. Instead, I focused on the question and rambled. “I’d always been taught to be kind and caring. Mom was so good about that. To see the other person’s perspective. That right there has saved me many nights of being mad at them or causing drama. I don’t dwell on what I don’t have, but I’m grateful for what I do.
“Anyway, why would I worry about things like what someone wears, or drives, or says, or looks like? Life isn’t about trying to conform to someone else’s idea of what you should be. Life is about being true to yourself, and kind to all those who aren’t quite ready to be true to themselves yet.”
“I like that.” His voice went deep again. “It makes sense. And it’s so right. If people spent less time looking at what to fix in others and more time fixing themselves, we’d have a nearly perfect society.”
I laughed. “There’s no such thing! And don’t expect perfection, either, or you’ll never be happy. You’ve got to allow people to be who they are and accept it as is.”
“I’m such a moron.”
Where’d that come from? “Why would you say that?”
He grumbled something under his breath and then said, “Because I told you to go for Max, but now I’m missing you too much and want you all to myself.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN:
I was completely blushing. “Right. On that note, I should probably hang up now.”
Bryant chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I deserve that.” Then he completely adorably sighed. “But really, what was I thinking? After talking to you now, I realize you probably know you a whole lot better than I know me.”
“No. You’re right. I don’t know who I am. I’m here. I’m living. I’m hanging on day-by-day, but I’m not really growing—you know what I mean? Sure, I know how to be patient-ish with my family and I don’t jump into silly first-world problems. But honestly, I d
on’t know what I want. I think college might help me, but I don’t even know where to go, or how to get there either.” I rolled over on my side. “And I’m the worst at actually committing to change. Like, Maxton, for instance. He’s my type, he’s always been my type, but I friend-zoned him from the get-go.”
“I take it you kissed him again.”
“How do you know that?”
He quietly groaned. “I could tell because you’ve changed your mind. This afternoon, you were still hesitant, but now you’re agreeing with me and being fair—like you should be. I only wish it wasn’t my dang idea!”
“Hey, I love that you can make me breathless and tingly, and I don’t know—you’re so intense and jump right to the heart of whatever we’re talking about and pull out everything I refuse to say. I love that about you—how could I not love that?”
“But?”
“But , . . like I said before, Maxton has waited years for me to come around. He’s kind, he’s careful, and he’s been crushing on me this whole time.”
“Not to mention he’s—what do you girls call his type—oh, yeah, he’s hot and muscular and fun, too.”
“I haven’t really seen a lot of fun yet, but fun I could do.” I needed something to distract me from the crazy in my life. After a few seconds, I said thoughtfully, “Anyway, I don’t know who I am yet, but I’ll figure it out. I’ll become that person my mom always saw in me. Thanks for seeing me the way she did. It’s given me hope.” I got up on my elbow and glanced at the clock. It was nearly nine.
“Well, I guess I better head off. I’ve got a ton of homework to do. It was cool talking to you.”
“Wait. Before you go,” he said. “How was Clarise? Did she . . . Were you late after talking with Max? Was she mad?”
“Yeah, but you and Maxton were right—she’s always mad. I’m not going to worry about it.”
“Did you get in trouble?”
“Meh. The usual. Had to do some extra jobs.”
“And?”
There were no secrets ever with Bryant. “And it was no big deal.”
“Hey, I’m the guy you talk to now, remember? I’m the one who worries about you, and I’m here to take responsibility for whatever punishment you get because of my stupid ideas.”
“Your ideas aren’t stupid.”
“What did Clarise say?”
I sighed and leaned back in my bed. “When I came in, she was waiting for me. She said she saw me pull up to the house with Maxton and then leave again, and she wanted to know where I went.”
“Whoa. Max took you home and then took off with you again?”
“Yes. It’s a long story. Anyway, none of this would’ve been a big deal except Jayda had waited for me after school to bring me home and then nearly missed getting back in time for basketball practice. She’d just gotten home before I did the first time, which is why Clarise was waiting for me at the door.”
“So, Jayda didn’t wait for you very long at the school.”
“No, she probably saw me getting into Maxton’s car and decided to race home and make a scene.”
“Nice cousin.”
“You have no idea.”
“I’m beginning to.”
He was, wasn’t he? Actually, Bryant was fast becoming the only person who understood everything going on with me right now. It was strangely comforting and frightening all at the same time.
“So, did I put you through too much work?”
“Nah. Just the typical organizing a few closets, washing windows, straightening my cousins’ rooms. That sort of thing. It’s easy enough if I do it quickly. And for the record, you did not get me in trouble. I chose to hang out with Maxton.”
“Did he know you were going to get in trouble when he pulled away?”
“Yeah, I sort of freaked.”
“And his response was the same as mine? You’re always in trouble, so what does it matter?”
“Pretty much. And you’re both right.”
“I’m sorry.”
“For?”
“For forgetting you’re not in a real family situation. When I get in trouble, my dad chews me out, but he listens because it’s about something that matters to me. When you get in trouble, you become their servant.”
I didn’t say anything. I froze and allowed his words to sink in.
“What Maxton should’ve done—or any friend, including me—was walked in and taken the blame for making you late. My guess is, he drove up and dropped you off, and that can’t work for you. He’s got to be able to sweet-talk Clarise into letting him hang around and help you with whatever chores she gives you.”
I couldn’t believe what he was saying.
“Chances are, Clarise would back way down and not be so harsh on you, and in the end, she’d—”
“In the end, she could very well let me have it as soon as you—or any other boyfriend—left.”
“Once,” he said confidently. “I’d only let her get away with that once before I’d guarantee she never did that again.”
His voice was so final, I had no clue what he was talking about. But the shouting of my name from upstairs meant I had to go.
“Indy! Come up here now!”
Dang it. “I gotta go. Speaking of the devil, Aunt Clarise is losing her mind. Bye.”
“Let me know what happens.”
After I hung up, I dashed up the stairs.
“I’m here!” I called as I rounded the corner. Clarise and my uncle were sitting down in the living room. My stomach clenched. This did not bode well.
“Have a seat, Indy,” my aunt said as one thin leg bounced over the other.
My uncle didn’t say a word as I sat on the plush loveseat she indicated. “What’s up?” I asked, though my voice didn’t come out as strong as I would’ve liked.
Clarise folded her arms. “Would you like to tell me what you and Maxton did after you left our driveway earlier?”
I glanced from one to the other. “Uh, we went and talked.”
“And what else?” She flipped her brunette hair on her shoulder.
I had no idea where she was going with this. We didn’t do anything else—we only talked. “That’s it.”
“Really? Are you sure about that?”
“Uh, yeah. Honestly, we were only gone a few minutes. We didn’t have time to go on a date or anything.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about, Indy, and you know it.” She looked as though she’d just caught me in some major lie.
I was going to be sick. I had no idea what Jayda or Kaitlyn had said to her, but it couldn’t have been good.
My uncle coughed and said simply, “We received a phone call a few minutes ago that would imply otherwise.”
Thankfully, I didn’t have to wait long to hear what was going on. “Ms. Dillard said you and a boy in a red car parked outside her house and made out this afternoon.”
“What?” Then I thought of the kisses and blushed. “Well, yes, we kissed. But we didn’t make out. I promise!”
One slim eyebrow rose on Clarise’s face, an indication that she was livid. “Do you have any clue how embarrassing that call was to get? Any at all?”
“I’m sorry. We left because we wanted to talk for a minute. I had no idea anyone was watching us.”
“If you only wanted to talk, why did you stop in front of their house?”
My uncle stood and said, “I’m heading up to my office. Work out whatever you need to, Clarise. I can’t think about this anymore.”
“What?” She looked shocked. “Don’t you want to help me figure this out? Something must be done. We can’t let her go around acting like some . . . some floozy in front of the neighbor’s house!”
His eyes met mine, and he shook his head. “Did you expect her to be anything else?”
The implication that I was brought up badly was not missed. I didn’t know whether to cry or shout at them. All I knew for sure was that it hurt to hear stuff like that, and it was time it stopped. I st
ood up, my hands closing into fists. “What did you mean by that?”
“Never mind. You wouldn’t understand.” He gave my aunt a look that said, “Fix this.” But I wasn’t done—this conversation was most definitely not over.
“Is there something you’d like to tell me? Instead of standing there suggesting that my amazing mother raised me wrong, how about you act like a man of class and stop degrading the dead? My choices, my actions—they have nothing to do with my mother. My mom loved me and cared for me and worked her trash off providing for me, and she only said the nicest things about you both.” I took a step forward and glared, not caring if they kicked me out of the house. I was done.
“And I’m sick to death of hearing how awful she was. How would you know? Did you ever come by and help us? Were you around at all? You have no idea how we lived or what I was taught—you only create your own filth in your minds and then spew it whenever something happens that you don’t like.”
I was on a roll, and suddenly, I couldn’t stop. Everything I’d always wanted to say came out. I doubted if Bryant would ever consider me nice again. “I know you don’t want me. I knew it the first day I came to stay with you. And you’ve made it extra clear ever since. I get it. I was this poor relation who ruined your vibe, but you didn’t realize one thing. I was loved before I came here. I had the actual joy of belonging somewhere. I know the difference between this and what a kind and gentle soul is really like.
“I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to—everything. And that still isn’t enough. Sure, my cousins can have dates and see people and have a life—but me? The girl their own age isn’t allowed out of the house. I’m not even allowed to speak to my own boyfriend in front of the house, so we went a little bit away and talked. That’s it. Other than one kiss, we talked. And now the whole world is over and my mom was a bad mother all because of what? Because I’m not treated equally in this house, because you want to guarantee that I forget what real love is? Is that it?”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN:
When my rant was over, I finally looked at them. Clarise had stood up too, probably so she wasn’t the only one sitting. Her face looked as though someone had just released a pack of wild monkeys in her house and she had no idea what to do about it. Uncle David was pretty much as shocked as she was. Neither moved an inch.
