She Runs Away (The Sheridan Hall Series Book 2)

by Jessica Calla

  “She’s not—”

  “Aunt Annie died. We buried her. She’s the only mother I know.”

  “Annie, yes. But your birth mother,” he shifts in his seat, “no.”

  “No?” My breakfast rumbles in my stomach. Why couldn’t he tell me this before I ate a giant meal? “I… I… but you told me she died in childbirth… how…?”

  He reaches across the table, but I jerk away, shaking my head to keep the ridiculous things he’s saying out of my mind.

  He manages to grab my curled fist and covers it with his big hands. “When you were a kid and asked me about her, I lied. I didn’t want to drudge up the past. She didn’t die, like I said. I thought it would be better for you to forget her instead of pining away wondering where she was or trying to contact her. Can you understand why I did that?”

  I sigh and breathe an exasperated, “No.”

  He tilts his head, a wave of sadness softens his features.

  His pathetic look pisses me off. “I thought we had no secrets.”

  “We don’t. I mean… we…”

  I pull my fist back. “We do. Obviously, we do.”

  Dad’s shoulders slump, and I think about darting out of the diner and pretending this conversation never happened. Then he starts to babble. “I wanted to protect you. She’s not a nice person. She used me from day one. The only reason I have no regrets is because I got you out of the deal, and you’re the most important person in my life…”

  I stare into my coffee cup and try to process his words. He lied to me to protect me? There are a million things I want to ask. Who is she? Where is she? Why did she leave me? Why didn’t you tell me? Instead of forming the words, instead of screaming or crying, I stand. Without making eye contact, I gather my things. “I’m going to go.”

  He reaches for my arm but I twist out of his grasp. “Let me walk you back,” he says, his deep voice shaking.

  “No.” I hold out a hand to stop him. “Stay away from me.”

  “We need to talk about this.” He stands and takes the check off the table. “I’ll walk you.”

  Finally, I look into his eyes. “You. Will. Not.”

  He frowns and tilts his chin. “Amelia, please—”

  I throw my coat around my shoulders. “You didn’t want to talk to me about this for eighteen years, and now you want to throw this at me like it’s no big deal? If some stranger comes up to me and claims to be my mother, I’ll call you. That’s what you want right? You want to protect me from the world?”

  “Please don’t be angry with me.” He rubs his forehead, and for the first time, he looks old, tired, worried. He’s never looked that way to me before. I’d never noticed the wrinkles around his eyes, the lines across his forehead, or the grey hair peppering his brows. “I did the best I could. I had no idea it would turn bad like this.”

  “I need to be alone.” I walk from the table, and Dad follows me. I spin around to stop him. “Please, just let me go.”

  His tears pool in his eyes as he reaches for me. “I love you.”

  I jerk out of his reach. “I love you too.” I don’t turn back to look at him as I walk out.

  Ben

  When Chase returns from his Valentine’s date night with Juliet, he’s as tired as I am. We lock the door, shut off the lights, turn off our phones, and sleep until lunchtime. Instead of eating at the dining hall, which blows on the weekends, Chase drives us to our favorite restaurant in Hoboken with views of the skyline and the Hudson River. Not only is the view nice, but the bartender has no problem with my fake I.D. and the food is amazing. Rocco, Winston, and Rodrigo tell us they’ll meet us. Guys lunch out.

  The place is empty for a Saturday afternoon, which suits me just fine. Even though it’s only the two of us, we ask for a booth for five and order enough food for ten. Then we dig in, family-style.

  Most of our conversations start and end with Juliet, so I ask, “Did Jules like the show last night?”

  “Loved it. You know, sometimes I worry she’s not dancing on stage as much as she’d like. I wonder if she could do Broadway.”

  Before Chase, dancing and me were pretty much all Jules cared about. She doesn’t want to be a pro, but Chase will have to figure that out on his own. “She can’t sing for shit,” I offer.

  “Maybe she should take lessons? I don’t know. Her television stuff is picking up. Hopefully that will satisfy her performance bug.”

  After November, Juliet organized a press conference to get the University’s attention about the shooting and its effect on us. She’s gorgeous and well-spoken, a natural in front of the camera. Afterward, news shows started calling her for sound bites, which turned into interviews, and now she guest hosts local morning shows. She’s even heard a rumor that she may soon be invited to a popular mid-day panel show.

  I butter a piece of bread as we talk. “I have no doubt that she’ll be a star, someday, somehow, in front of audiences, somewhere.”

  Chase tosses an oyster then grins. “In case I’ve never said it, thanks for making her obsess over you in high school so that she followed you here. To me.”

  I smirk. “Yeah, no problem, pretty boy.” Even though I’m jealous of what Chase and Jules have together, I’m not upset she’s moved on from me. I miss her as a friend because she’s not available as much, and now there’s a line drawn. She has a new confidante. I need to find my own.

  Chase reads my thoughts. “Did you think more about finding your ninety-fiver? Juliet is talking about banners in the quad.”

  “Stop her please. I’m not that desperate. I didn’t once think about my ninety-fiver last night. I was sort of taking your other advice.” I chug my beer.

  His eyes widen, and he stops shoving food in his face. “You hooked up? That’s why you seem so relaxed today?”

  “Sex does wonders.”

  “How’d you work so fast? I know you can be a charmer when you want to, but still… that’s quick work.”

  “I know her, so I didn’t have to start from scratch.”

  I grimace as Chase moves from the oysters to the nachos. The man must have a steel stomach. “So who is she?” He shifts plates around the table. “Do I know her?”

  “Yep.”

  When I don’t offer details, he stops eating and stares at me. “Well?”

  “I’m not telling you who it is.”

  “Why not?”

  Without looking up from our food, I laugh. “Because you’ll tell Jules.”

  Chase leans back against his chair and crosses his arms. “I can keep a secret.”

  He can’t keep secrets from her. She’s too intuitive. “No way. It turned out to be a great night though.”

  “Are you going to see her again?”

  “Yep. We have a contract.” I say it like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

  Chase leans forward and sticks out his chin. “A contract? What the fuck does that mean?”

  “We’re gonna mess around. Twice a week. We can see other people. I can still look for my ninety-fiver, and she can look for…” What is Megan looking for? “Her own boyfriend. We’re going to be honest, keep it private, that sort of thing.”

  His jaw drops as I grab an eggroll. “You actually made a contract?”

  “Yep.”

  “In writing?”

  “Yes, CC. And I feel great knowing I’m going to have a steady stream of sex.”

  He laughs. “Well, hell. Whatever works. You’re a good boy. You deserve a good time.”

  I do. And speaking of a good time, I text Megan as we eat. I haven’t heard from her yet. First, I send her a smiley face. Then I text:

  At lunch with Chase—guys meeting us out.

  As if on cue, Rocco walks in with Winston and Rod. Rocco’s a giant, and with Winston and Rodrigo flanking him, he’s an absolute monster. They’re both skinny, which makes Rocco look even bigger.

  I wave, and they join us in the booth. Rocco can’t fit, so he pulls a chair from a nearby table and takes th
e end. Rodrigo immediately grabs the pitcher as Winston sits like a lump next to Chase.

  I reach across the table and shove Winston. “You look like shit. What’s wrong?”

  Rocco holds up a hand to get the waitress’s attention. “Don’t ask.” Whenever he walks into a room, everyone looks at him. The waitress comes over immediately.

  “Now we have to ask,” Chase says.

  Rocco orders some weird egg salad thing and doesn’t notice that the waitress blatantly checks him out. He’s been with Pooja since September, and I’ve never seen him glance at another woman.

  Rodrigo pounds his beer while Chase and I stare at Winston. “Well, Win? What’s up?” I ask.

  Winston looks around the table at each of us through his thick glasses. “Does anyone know where Megan is?”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” I jump on the question a little too quickly. Chase glares at me from across the table.

  Winston fidgets and knocks over an empty glass. I reach across to lift it. “What happened to Meg?”

  My voice changes as I try to hide my concern. Chase catches my eye then smirks and shakes his head.

  “Megan didn’t come home last night,” Winston says. “Maggie and I… we broke up, and I know she’ll want Megan.”

  Forgetting for the moment that Chase may have figured out my secret, I glare at Winston. “Broke up?” Mags and Win seemed to be getting along great. “She broke up with you?”

  “I broke up with her.”

  Chase and I look at each other then back at Win. Suddenly, I don’t feel so bad.

  “Wait,” Chase says, holding out his hand. “You dumped her on Valentine’s Day?”

  Winston nods. He pulls off his glasses and rubs his eyes. “I know it wasn’t the best move—”

  “I told him not to,” Rodrigo says. “Any idiot knows you can’t dump a chick on V-Day.”

  Rocco shakes his head. “It’s just cruel.”

  “I know. I suck.” Winston sighs. “Now she won’t talk to me.”

  I check my phone to text Meg again, but there’s a message waiting. “Meg texted me.”

  Chase tsks. “Really?”

  I glance up at him, and he raises his eyebrows. Yep. He knows.

  We’re all with Maggie. Winston is a fucking asshole.

  I don’t tell them it says that though. “She’s back in the room. All the girls are with Mags.”

  Rocco sucks down a few oysters. “You know they’re gonna hate us too, right Chase? We’ll suffer by association and pay the price for Winston’s stupidity.” He smacks Win on the back of the head.

  “Ow.” Win scowls and rubs it.

  Rocco points a fork at him. “Thanks to you we need damage control. What’s the plan?”

  “That’s easy,” Rod says. “Just agree with whatever they say about Winston—he’s a jerk, he’s an idiot, what a jackass. It’s the only way.”

  “Thanks for your support,” Winston mutters.

  Rocco glares at Rod, his “angry vein,” as Jules calls it, popping out of his neck. “You know, Rodrigo, it’s amazing you don’t have a girlfriend with your vast knowledge of the way women work.”

  “Agreed.” Rodrigo doesn’t pick up on Rocco’s sarcasm. “I hate to be the one to break this to you, Roc, but women are into nerds these days. You can keep your bulk and your protein powders. Right, Win?”

  Winston stays quiet as he taps on his phone.

  “Leave her alone, Winston,” Chase warns. “Let the girls handle it.”

  “Look on the bright side.” Rod’s skinny arms move around the table as he fills his plate. “At least we can add Winston and Maggie to the singles on the floor. With Ben and Megan, we now outnumber the couples.”

  Winston groans and rubs his head again.

  Chase smirks. “Yeah, I’m not so sure.” Before anyone can ask what he means, Chase nudges my arm and asks me to help him grab the next round from the bar.

  I hesitate for a second, but I’m interested in Chase’s take on this. When he walks away from the table, I follow, feeling the beer buzz with each step.

  When we reach the bar, he turns and faces me. “Really? Megan?”

  “What about her?” I wave at the bartender and try to blow off his question, but I’m a crappy liar. “Okay, yeah. Megan.”

  He grimaces and points a finger at me. “That is a huge mistake.”

  “This was your advice, CC.”

  “Not Megan, you moron!”

  “Why not? We had fun last night.” I grin and visualize Megan’s cute little body.

  Chase’s eyes widen. “Megan? The contract you were talking about? You signed a…” he lowers his voice, “sex contract with your ‘Sweet’ Meg?”

  “Not entirely sweet after all. Surprised the shit out of me too.”

  Chase shakes his head. “You can’t have casual sex with Megan, Ben.”

  “Too late. But why not?”

  “Because you like her. You’re invested.”

  “I’m not invested,” I sputter. “She doesn’t want to date me. Trust me, she’s made that perfectly clear. Look, it’s a mutual attraction. We live three doors down from each other, so it’s convenient. What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s a mistake. When you see her going out with some other guy, or when she wants to void your so-called ‘contract,’ you’re gonna be upset.” Chase rubs his eyes and looks to the sky. “Sooner or later Juliet’s going to find your ninety-fiver. She’s not going to give up. If you tell her you’re sleeping with Meg, she’s going to flip out.”

  “Well, Jules is your problem now, my friend.”

  “And Megan’s going to be yours,” he says. “You’ll see.”

  Chapter Five

  Megan

  Maggie sits across from me on her bed, her eyes puffy and pink from crying. “I don’t know what happened. We were here, you know, and then all of a sudden he gets up and starts this speech about how it can’t work. We’re too young and all kinds of stupid, cliché boy stuff.”

  “Oh Maggie.” I want to strangle Winston, that skinny little punk. “Let’s get out of here. Go get some air.” With Maggie so sad, I push aside the conversation I had with my father this morning. I try not to think about the fact that I have a birth mother lurking around, using me to threaten my father, and instead concentrate on my roommate.

  The girls are equally upset and on board when I suggest getting Maggie out of the basement. Within minutes, Pooja, Juliet, and I lead a miserable Maggie Patrinski to the train and the city. Juliet brings us to Chase’s home, an apartment over an art gallery downtown. As soon as the four of us walk in, exhausted and carrying bags full of junk food, Chase’s uncle, who lives there, kisses Juliet on the cheek and makes a hasty exit out the back door. I don’t blame him. I’d run too if I were a guy.

  Maggie digs into the bags and pulls out a half gallon of chocolate chip mint. Juliet disappears and returns with utensils and napkins, and we park ourselves on the floor of Chase’s living room. Pooja messes with the remote and finds a movie, but none of us watch.

  I put my arm around Maggie and give her a squeeze as her tears fall into the ice cream container. It’s odd that people confuse me with Maggie. She’s blonde and short, like me, but she’s curvy. I have a runner’s body, but Maggie has a woman’s body. There’s a little mole on her cheek, near her lips. Where I prefer athletic wear and jeans, especially for classes, Maggie’s not afraid to put on a dress and sweep her long hair into an updo for one forty-five minute class. She’s girly and beautiful and frankly, way out of Winston’s league. I try not to compare and be jealous of other girls, but I’d love to have her feminine sexiness, and her rack, just for a day to see what it feels like.

  Winston’s okay. He’s not terrible and he’s cute for a nerdy dude. Problem is, he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his tall, skinny body. Maggie lives for romance. I can tell by the books she reads and the way she talks about love.

  Not only did Winston break up with Maggie on Valentine’s Day, he did it
after they had sex. “Who does that?” Juliet asks. “It’s so wrong.”

  “I thought it was fate,” Maggie says quietly. “How could it not be? He was my first kiss. My first everything. Summer camp, every single year, we were together. He said he was moving overseas with his parents, and I thought I’d never see him again. Then bam! Here he was.” She swipes at the tear rolling down her cheek.

  “He’s not worth the tears, Mag,” I whisper. “You’ll see.”

  Juliet jams her spoon into the ice cream. “I want to kick his ass.”

  “But…” Maggie looks like she’s still in shock. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. Why would he do that to me?”

  My heart breaks for Maggie, who looks around the circle at us. Juliet purses her lips together. I sigh. Then, as usual, we turn to Pooja for guidance.

  While Juliet is fierce and aggressive, her roommate Pooja is the calming force amongst us. She’s thoughtful and quiet, but strong when it counts. She’s amazingly beautiful too, with her dark hair and big almond-shaped eyes. She’s also somewhat psychic. She explained her powers to me once as “the ability to see people’s colors.” It’s like she can see an aura around them, interpret the colors, and know their feelings.

  “Winston is a mess.” Pooja twists her long, black hair into a knot on her head. “His colors are all over the place. I have to say that since the shooting, since we’ve been back, all of our colors are kind of faded but… mixed, I guess. It’s the only way I can explain it.”

  “We are all fucked up about what happened. But what do we do? Stay fucked up forever?” Juliet asks. “Maybe I’ll ask Hernandez about having group counseling again.” Hernandez is the President of NJU, Rodrigo’s uncle, and a huge fan of Juliet’s since her press conference and newfound broadcasting career helped put a positive spin on NJU after the shooting.

  “You know,” Maggie says, “even if we’re all screwed up and missing Frank, that doesn’t excuse bad behavior. It doesn’t mean we can screw with someone’s heart. You’re lucky you were smart enough to stay single, Meg.” She points her spoon at me before reaching over to dig into the ice cream container.