The Rules of You and Me

by Shana Norris

  In the hall, Ashton reached up to pull at the string to the attic. The wooden ladder unfolded and then Ashton began to climb, expertly keeping the canvases balanced on her shoulder as she went up. My mouth went dry as I looked up at the ladder. I’d always had a fear of heights. Anything over three feet above ground was enough to make me dizzy.

  “Bring those boxes up,” Ashton called back to me as she disappeared into the hole in the ceiling.

  It’s just an attic, I told myself. Taking a deep breath, I put one foot on the bottom step. I tried to see over the side of the boxes in my arms to watch my footing, but it was nearly impossible. The only good thing about that was that I also couldn’t see how high up I was. I went up the ladder slowly, carefully finding each step with only my foot as my pulse pounded in my ears.

  I climbed into a small attic area and quickly moved away from the gaping doorway in the floor. The roof was low, the exposed rafters only an inch above our heads. Exposed bulbs lit the room and the floor had been finished with sheets of plywood. All around the attic were canvases stacked against the angled walls and some on easels. Most had only bits of paint splashed across them, leaving pencil outlines uncolored. Others were completely blank.

  Aunt Lydia sat on a wooden stool in front of an easel, a paintbrush in one hand. The easel was turned so that we couldn’t see the painting on the canvas from where Ashton and I stood.

  “Working hard?” Ashton asked as she placed the blank canvases on a table. She gestured for me to set the boxes down nearby.

  Aunt Lydia wiped her brow with the back of her hand. It was so hot in the attic already I didn’t know how she could stand to sit up there for long. “Not working enough,” she said. “If I did, maybe I’d actually finish something.”

  “You’re going through a dry spell,” Ashton told her.

  “I’m going through a dry life,” Aunt Lydia corrected. She tossed the paintbrush onto the table and then stood, stretching.

  “This is your studio?” I asked as I looked around the dusty attic. Sweat prickled along my hairline as the heat closed in on me.

  “I was going to use the guest room,” Aunt Lydia told me, “but then I thought maybe I’d better save it for, you know, actual guests. Be thankful you’re not stuck smelling turpentine while you sleep.”

  “Seriously,” Ashton said. She picked up one of the canvases and handed it to Aunt Lydia. “This is the closest I could find to what you wanted. It’s not quite right, but maybe it’ll work?”

  Aunt Lydia scrutinized the canvas. “Maybe. I don’t know. I had this dream about the perfect painting and the size of the canvas was so clear in my head. It’s silly, but I thought if I could find that size, maybe I could paint the picture and finally finish something.” She laughed. “It probably doesn’t matter. I’m a failure regardless.”

  “Don’t talk like that.” Ashton turned to me, frowning. “Tell your aunt not to talk like that.”

  Ashton seemed to be waiting for me to actually follow her orders, so I said, “Um, don’t talk like that?”

  Aunt Lydia rolled her eyes. “Thanks, girls. But maybe it’s time I admit the truth. My painting days are behind me. I should go back to overseeing other artists’ work and give up on my own. It won’t be the first thing I’ve given up in my life.”

  I wondered what else Aunt Lydia had given up, but Ashton spoke before I could. “I don’t want to hear those words come out of your mouth again, Lydia Montgomery. You are not a failure. You’re a genius. One day the rest of the world will see it too. So sit down and paint.”

  Aunt Lydia cast me an amused look. “Okay, sergeant,” she said, giving Ashton a mock salute.

  Ashton grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the ladder. “We’ll be downstairs if you need us. But don’t call us unless you’re on fire or something. Otherwise, I expect you to work.”

  I heard Aunt Lydia sigh as we descended the ladder. Ashton folded the wooden steps and then pushed the attic door closed, leaving the string swinging back and forth over our heads.

  “Come on,” Ashton said, waving for me to follow her to the kitchen.

  She grabbed a bowl from the cabinet and then poured herself some Corn Flakes before sitting down next to where my half-empty bowl still sat on the counter. I returned to my seat, watching Ashton out of the corner of my eye for a moment. She had a nose ring, which made my own nose hurt to think about. Mom did not like facial piercings at all. Actually, she didn’t like any kind of piercings other than the ones in earlobes. And those were only acceptable on girls.

  “So, um,” I said as Ashton ate, “how do you know my aunt?”

  “I’m her assistant,” Ashton said. “It’s for my college applications. Lydia is writing one of my recommendation letters.”

  I nodded. “So do you paint with her?”

  Ashton laughed. “No one paints with Lydia. She needs solitude to paint. Which I totally get, because I’m the same way. I can’t focus with a lot of distractions. Mostly, I go out and buy her canvases and paints and things. And tell her to get to work. I make sure she stays in her studio for a few hours each day.”

  I didn’t even know that Aunt Lydia painted. I had never seen her do it, though I knew that she had a passion for art. But in her old life, she was always just the owner of the museum and spent her time thinking about other people’s art. I’d never heard her speak of creating art herself.

  “So how long are you here?” Ashton asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “A few weeks, I guess. Or until I feel like going home.”

  Ashton gaped at me. “I wish my parents would let me to leave until I felt like coming home!”

  I shrugged and swirled my Corn Flakes around in my bowl. “Well, both of my parents are gone right now, so it doesn’t really matter.”

  “In Paris?” Ashton asked.

  I bit my lip, then nodded. “Yeah.” I didn’t want to explain to a girl I didn’t even know about my parents.

  Ashton drained the last of her milk and then wiped her mouth with her hand. “Well, this isn’t exactly Paris, but it’s not too bad. If you want, I could introduce you to some people and show you all the best places to hang out.”

  I looked Ashton up and down. She didn’t look like the type of girl my mom would approve of me hanging out with. She certainly didn’t look anything like Natalie.

  Step outside of your comfort zone, Mark had told me. Do things you wouldn’t normally do.

  Hanging out with Ashton definitely counted.

  “Okay,” I agreed. “That would be nice. Thanks.”

  Ashton’s eyes lit up. “Hey, my friend Syke is having a party tonight. You should come.”

  A party with someone named Syke was even farther outside my comfort zone.

  “Okay,” I said again. “Where is it?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Ashton said. “I’ll pick you up at eight.” She looked me up and down, eyeing the headband that matched my red blouse. “Wear something a little more…casual.”

  Did I have anything that matched her idea of casual? I forced myself to smile. “Of course. No problem.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The music vibrated through my body as we turned onto the dirt road. Ahead of us, the path dipped into a valley, where a blazing fire rose from the darkness. I could see shapes passing in front of the firelight, dozens of people already roaming around the valley. People stumbled on each side of us as Ashton’s old Honda bounced down the uneven path.

  I gripped the edges of my seat as my stomach twisted deep in my abdomen. Coming to this party was probably a bad idea. Memories of the last party I’d been to flashed through my mind.

  It had been only three weeks ago. My dad was celebrating the opening of ten new branches in Florida by throwing a cocktail party for all of his friends and business associates. My parents lived for cocktail parties. I usually spent most of the night dodging my dad’s vice president’s pervy son Garrett and his oversized wandering hands. It had been only a week since my ex-boyfrie
nd Zac Greeley had broken up with me and though the breakup had been my idea, I wished he was there to serve as a barrier between me and Gropy Garrett. Natalie had abandoned me for some college guy she’d met and so I was on my own, slipping between rooms, ducking behind people whenever I thought I saw him.

  My mom was on her seventh or eighth martini of the night. I’d lost count between my constant Garrett avoidance. I had spotted her just as I slipped into the kitchen to escape him once again.

  “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” I whispered in my mom’s ear. I smiled wide at the couple who passed, keeping up the image of perfection my mom insisted on.

  “It’s a party, Hannah,” Mom told me in an exasperated tone. “You’re supposed to drink and relax at a party.”

  “You’re slurring your words,” I hissed. “You’re making an idiot of yourself.”

  Mom patted my cheek a little too hard, leaving it stinging. “You’re so uptight, honey. Loosen up.”

  My body stiffened at her words. Uptight. Wasn’t that the same thing Zac had complained about me whenever I got annoyed with one of his crazy ideas? Hearing my mother call me too uptight was so ridiculous I almost laughed.

  Then Mom called out to one of her friends and left me behind, sloshing her martini on her arm as she went. I thought I had spotted the back of Garrett’s head in the dining room, so I turned and raced up the stairs into the darkened second floor. Hopefully Garrett wouldn’t follow me up there, but I didn’t trust him to keep to social etiquette about off limits areas in people’s houses. I was about to lock myself in my room, but I saw a light on in my parents’ room. I hadn’t seen my dad in a while. He must have had enough of the party too.

  “Dad?” I asked as I knocked on the door. I stood there for a minute, but there was no answer. “Dad?” I pushed open the door, peeking inside. The room was lit by just one lamp on the table next to my dad’s side of the bed. My eyes scanned the room, until I saw a dark shape near the end of the bed.

  I stepped into the room, my feet making no sound on the thick plush carpeting. As I drew closer, the first thing I saw were my dad’s shiny black shoes. Then his legs, his body crumpled on the floor. His skin was white, slightly blue, and his eyes were closed, a line of vomit trailing from his mouth.

  #

  “This is going to be a great night,” Ashton said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

  The heat of the summer night hit me along with the smell of burning wood as soon as I stepped out of Ashton’s car. It was clear that the fire was meant only as a light source and not for heat since the air was already sticky hot.

  I followed Ashton carefully down the slope into the valley clearing and the throng of people there. Music pulsed from an unknown source, mixing with the sound of laughter and conversations. Panic rose inside me when Ashton’s orange head disappeared into the shadows of the night for a moment.

  “Hey,” a guy slurred at me, smiling crookedly. His eyes already had that glazed look of too much drinking.

  I spotted Ashton again, the firelight reflecting off her hair and making it glow. Ignoring the drunk guy, I pushed past a group of girls and caught back up.

  “Ash!” a girl squealed, throwing her arms wide. She and Ashton hugged as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages. The girl was tall and willowy, with blonde hair that had to be bleached, and she wore a pair of cut off jeans so short my mother would have had a heart attack if she had seen them.

  The girl spotted me over Ashton’s shoulder and broke free of the hug. “Who’s the tag along?” she asked, nodding at me.

  Ashton grabbed my hand and pulled me closer. “This is Hannah, Lydia’s niece. She’s here for the summer, so I thought I’d show her around. Help her loosen up.” She gave the girl a grin before turning to me. “This is Kate.”

  “Her BFF,” Kate said, extending a hand toward me. “Though she doesn’t like to admit it.”

  “Because you get me into more trouble than anyone else,” Ashton said. “I don’t like my name being associated with you.”

  I shook Kate’s hand as the two girls laughed. Kate gave me an appraising look.

  “Strong handshake,” she said. “Nice. My dad always says you can tell a lot about a person by their handshake.”

  I smiled. “So does mine.”

  Kate laughed. “Our dads would probably get along well. Does yours wear a suit and tie all the time, too?”

  “Every day,” I said.

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Those types are such workaholics, aren’t they? They’ll probably end up in therapy or something one day.”

  I forced myself to keep a smile on my face and not flinch at her words. “Yeah,” I agreed. “Probably so.”

  Ashton groaned. “Can we please not talk about dads or work right now? This is supposed to be a party, so let’s party! Come on, Hannah, let’s get some beers.”

  We found the cooler where a guy with close cropped hair was handing out beers. He smiled as Ashton and I approached. “What’ll it be, ladies?”

  “Two please,” Ashton told him, smiling wide. She took the cans, her eyes never leaving the guy’s face. “Thanks. Hey, have you met Hannah?”

  The guy turned his smile toward me. “No, I haven’t. I’m Carter.”

  “Hannah,” I said automatically, before I remembered that Ashton had already said my name.

  “I’m showing her around while she’s here,” Ashton said.

  Carter’s gaze slid back to her. “I’m sure you’re the best tour guide in town, Ash.”

  Ashton blushed so deeply that her face and hair almost made her look like she was on fire. Then she said, “Well, thanks. For the beers.” She held up the cans.

  Carter nodded. “No problem. Come see me again if you need a refill.”

  As we walked away, Ashton looked back over her shoulder to where Carter was already talking to someone else.

  “Your boyfriend?” I asked.

  Ashton snorted as a blush crept up her neck. “No. Just a friend.”

  “A friend you like,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

  Ashton’s face turned even redder in the firelight. “Just a friend,” she said. “A friend who would never go out with me.”

  “Why not?”

  Ashton sighed as we made our way back to Kate. “It’s a long story.”

  “What’s a long story?” Kate asked.

  Ashton handed me one of the beers, which was dripping cold water. “Why Carter and I can never go out.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh, lord, don’t get her started on that.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “She thinks she’s not good enough for him,” Kate told me. “He used to date this one girl named Jennifer, who was like homecoming queen, cheerleader, etcetera, etcetera. And so now Ash has it in her head that those are the only kinds of girls Carter likes, and she of course thinks that she could never live up to that.”

  Ashton popped open her can and took a sip. “Carter and I are friends. That’s all he sees me as and all he ever will see me as. Why delude myself into thinking there might be something else when I can just face the truth now?”

  “Have you ever told him that you like him?” I asked.

  “No,” Kate and Ashton said at the same time.

  Ashton scowled at Kate before saying, “I don’t want to mess anything up.”

  “You know what my life—” I stopped myself before saying “life coach.” I coughed. “My friend Mark would say?”

  “What?” Ashton asked as she took another sip of beer.

  “The rules you think you should follow in life aren’t always the right rules for you.”

  Kate raised her eyebrows while Ashton smirked.

  “What, is he like a philosopher or something?” Kate asked.

  “What if the rules are in place to keep you from making a complete idiot of yourself?” Ashton asked. “If we all abandon our rules, there might be anarchy.”

  “Yeah, like girls asking out guys they actually like,” Kate bro
ke in.

  Ashton shot Kate another scowl, then turned her back on her friend. “Are you going to drink that or just hold it all night?” she asked me.

  I looked down at the can in my hand, which I held by two fingers since it was still dripping. I had tried beer once, but I didn’t like it. And there was my mom’s rule #11: Ladies never drink from cans.

  I pulled the top open, my thumb falling into the cold liquid inside as I pressed the metal lip down. I shook beer off my thumb, trying not to wipe it on my jeans. The last thing I wanted was to go home smelling like alcohol and get a lecture from Aunt Lydia.

  I fought back against the urge to cringe when I took a tiny sip. Beer was still just as terrible as I remembered it.

  Ashton and Kate had already moved on to a new topic of conversation though and weren’t watching me. I stood next to them, holding my beer in a way that I hoped made it look like I was actually drinking it. People milled all around us, calling out to each other and dividing into groups. Couples headed off into the trees around us, stumbling and laughing as they disappeared into the shadows. One girl was throwing up five feet away from me while her friend held her hair back, and some guys were seeing who could hold their hands over the fire the longest before pulling away.

  So this was what normal people did on a Friday night. My mother would be so proud if she could see me right then.

  For some reason, it all made me think of my ex-boyfriend Zac. Not that Zac got drunk and did stupid things. Actually, I had never known Zac to care much for drinking. But he did love parties and hanging out with a bunch of people. He was always so full of crazy ideas, most of which lead to him injuring himself or breaking something. But he was so passionate about enjoying life.

  “You’re too uptight all the time,” Zac had complained once. I had gotten mad at him for climbing onto a table at the Rose Castle and dancing to the song that had just come on the radio. It had made everyone else in the restaurant laugh, but all I could think about was how much he was embarrassing me. Why couldn’t I have had a normal boyfriend who stayed firmly in his seat? “You need to have fun.”