The Color of Grace

by Linda Kage

  My mouth fell open. “No need? No need! Do you realize what you just did to me? Do you even care? I mean, who are you? I don’t even know anymore.”

  “Oh, you’re accusing me of changing, are you?” She laughed out a harsh snort. “That’s rich. You’re the one with a new set of friends, going around kissing boys and—”

  “I have kissed exactly one boy,” I cut in, yelling. “And I didn’t even like it…something you would’ve known if you bothered to ask me. And honestly, I kind of sort of have to make new friends because you forced me to go to a new school.”

  “That’s no reason to totally abandon your old friends, Grace.”

  “I didn’t! They abandoned me. Something else you would know if you just stopped to talk to me.”

  “I try, Grace. I really try. You’re the one who—”

  I scoffed. “Are you kidding me? Not once have I heard you ask me, ‘Hey, Grace have you become sexually active?’ Did you even think about asking me? I would’ve been honest. Have you ever known me to lie? But you didn’t ask. How could you just assume…” My voice broke. “Next time you want to know if I’m a virgin, just ask. All right?”

  My emotions roared out of control, so I gave up on talking. Folding my arms over my chest, I turned and stared out the side window.

  Mom took up the silent treatment as well. I hoped she was soaking in my accusations and realizing she’d actually been in the wrong.

  The anger carried me most of the way home, which I’m glad for because as soon as the actual devastation set in, I started crying these huge, hot, soaking tears and I couldn’t stop. Without speaking to the woman who had given birth to me, I slammed out of the car as soon as we parked, then stomped into the house, stormed all the way to my room and locked the door. That’s when I stood petrified in the center of the room Barry had assigned to me and felt utter misery.

  I ripped back the covers on my bed, crawled between the sheets and bawled, forgetting to even take my shoes off.

  For hours.

  I didn’t want to talk to anyone, look at anyone, or hear anyone.

  When my cell phone rang, I dug it out of my book bag only to turn it off. When Mom knocked on my door to announce supper, I didn’t move. She must’ve realized I wasn’t going to abandon my bed unless she broke down the door and literally dragged me by my hair to the dining room because she never knocked again that night.

  I didn’t leave my room, or even my bed, until about one or two in the morning when I had to use the bathroom. The rest of the house was dark; I was grateful.

  Saturday and Sunday progressed very similar to Friday evening. I avoided everyone and everything, only sneaking out of my room to scavenge for food and use the necessities. Mom left me alone, which made me think she really had decided she’d been wrong. Didn’t matter, though; it wouldn’t change what she’d done to me and how she’d made me feel.

  I was afloat, utterly alone, in this vast sea everyone called life, and I saw no land or rescue in any direction. It was frightening, and I wasn’t sure what to do. So I hid.

  Chapter 18

  I looked up the symbolism for gray. Sorrow, security, maturity. Sorrow and maturity sound about right. I’ve just lost my mother for good, and it’s left me feeling wrinkled and old, a sheet of white paper that had been exposed to too much pain and faded to gray. But security? That drifted off in a thick, gray fog and left me bare to the elements. I wish I had someone to lean against and help me through this era of my life.

  * * * *

  When Monday rolled around, I didn’t want to go to school. But it was something to do, something to get me out of Barry’s house and away from my mother. It was also something solid and real. School, classes, homework. It was reliable, a pattern and consistency I could cling to.

  But as I walked in the front door and looked around at the clusters of people chatting and laughing, I felt sick. School was normal, but I was not. I felt changed.

  With mechanical steps, I made my way to my locker and stored my books and bag. Art would be my first class of the day. I almost looked forward to going and burying myself into my project. I finally had an idea for my big courthouse display; working on it would be a welcome release from reality.

  I’d just shut my locker and had turned to head toward Art when I jerked to a halt.

  Across the way, Ryder studied me, his eyes squinted in confusion. What’s wrong? He mouthed the question.

  I blanched, worried about how he could tell anything looked off about me. I glanced down at my clothes, making sure I’d dressed properly enough. Everything seemed to be in order, so I lifted my face. He’d taken a step closer as if he wanted to come to me.

  I wanted it too, so I started toward him. I have no idea what I would’ve said or done, but I’m pretty sure I would’ve disgraced myself; therefore, it’s a good thing Todd appeared before I could reach Ryder.

  “Hey,” he said. “I tried to get a hold of you this weekend. Emailed, texted, called your phone. You never answered.”

  I opened my mouth, not sure what to say. The words that blundered out were, “I had a fight with my mom.”

  He frowned a moment as if to say that totally didn’t excuse why I hadn’t answered a call, or text, or email. But then his eyes crinkled in sympathy. “Did she ground you?”

  I shook my head, unable to describe the specifics.

  Seeming to finally catch on that I’d experienced something traumatic, he softened the expression on his face even more, quietly asking, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  Again, I shook my head.

  “Do you want a hug?”

  I paused. A hug. A hug sounded heavenly.

  Sucking in a breath, I nodded.

  Face lighting with surprise but immediately followed by pleasure, Todd opened his arms. I stepped between them. When he pulled me tight against him, I even rested my face on his shoulder, closing my eyes as I soaked in all the support he provided.

  Everything that had previously vexed me about this boy slipped away in his compassionate embrace. I didn’t even care if Ryder was right and Todd was only using me to irritate his best friend. He was offering me a shoulder to lean on when I needed it, so I took it with the utmost gratitude.

  Relaxing, I began to enjoy the sensation of my cheek against his cotton t-shirt, the smell of dryer sheets emanating off him. He was warm and human and I gobbled up the comfort—whether it was sincerely given or not.

  When I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw over Todd’s shoulder was Ryder staring at us, his jaw slack and mouth hanging open. I looked away, because sometimes looking at him just hurt too much.

  Lifting my face to Todd, I said, “Thank you,” meaning it from the bottom of my heart.

  Reaching out to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, Todd smiled. “No problem.” After he cast a glance over his shoulder, he let out a smug grin and returned his attention to me. “So, what’re you doing tonight? Want to do something together?”

  With an irresistible urge to avoid Barry’s house as much as possible, I gave my second nod, and Todd beamed as if he’d just won a new car.

  “Cool. We can hang out at my place.”

  “Okay.”

  So, we did.

  It wasn’t awful. Away from his friends, Todd could be decent, if a little awkward about how to treat me. I could tell he wanted to shut me alone in his room and try to get touchy-feely, but his eight-year-old sister took a strange and sudden liking to me. Every time Todd tried to shoo her away, she thought of something else to say to me.

  Much to Todd’s disgruntlement, I spent most of that night coloring with her and letting her braid my hair. The next night, he asked me to a movie. I accepted. I think he kept trying to take my hand or meet fingers with me in the popcorn bowl, but I was so into the show, I only noticed his failed attempts when it was too late.

  Wednesday, he didn’t ask to do anything. Once he’d caught this particular fish, he was ready to throw it back. Ryder totally ignored us whenever he
saw us together in school, so if his theory was true that Todd was only using me to get his goat, then maybe that’s why Todd lost interest. His attention to me no longer bothered his friend, so his own strayed.

  That was a miserable night. I called Bridget’s house, but Joel—who answered the phone—said she wasn’t home. So I tried Schy and Adam, but neither of them was home. It was my night to cook. I rushed out a salad, threw in some canned chunks of chicken, and then made my plate to go. After eating alone in my room, I snuck down to the kitchen to find Mom and Barry had already cleared the dishes. Maybe that was her way of saying sorry to me.

  If so, it wasn’t enough.

  Thursday, I didn’t see Todd in school, so I called him afterward. He answered his cell phone on the first ring.

  “Hey,” I said, trying to sound casual instead of desperate. “I didn’t see you in school today.”

  “Oh, yeah. I spent most of the day in, uh, English. I was late turning in a paper so the teacher let me come in between classes to finish it.”

  It sounded like a lame excuse to me, but if he didn’t want to be honest, I really didn’t care. I desperately needed something to get me out of my house. Now if he’d wanted to say, “Yeah, I was trying to avoid you,” then maybe I would’ve left him alone. But I went ahead and asked, “Do you want to do something tonight?”

  He stumbled around before telling me he had to go to a play at his little sister’s school. I swallowed some pride and asked what he was doing the next night. Friday.

  “I’m hanging out with Yates tomorrow night. It’s guys’ night. You know.”

  “Oh, okay.”

  I didn’t ask about Saturday—cutting my losses there—but hung up with him moments later, worried I’d just lost an outlet to get me out of the house

  Friday, I had chemistry with both Todd and Ryder. Ryder completely ignored me; Todd smiled and greeted me but his manner was very vague, telling me he’d definitely lost interest.

  My mom had to work late that night. Since Barry had played a part in convincing her I’d turned into some kind of loose-morals teenager, I didn’t feel like socializing with him. I planned to stay the entire evening inside my room.

  Except fate intervened.

  I had to go to the bathroom

  To this day, I wish I would’ve held it.

  As it was, I did wait out my bladder for as long as I could, but eventually, I couldn’t stand it anymore. Being that the clock read the time as a quarter after ten at night, I hoped maybe Barry had already gone to bed.

  I snuck from my room and made a mad dash to the bathroom. Afterward, I fully planned to slip silently right back to my room without anyone being the wiser.

  But he appeared almost as soon as I opened the restroom door.

  I gasped and jumped back.

  “Sorry about that,” he said, flashing me a genial grin as if I hadn’t been avoiding him as much as I had my mother all week. “But I rented another movie. Want to watch it with me?” He held up the Blu-ray case, showing me the title of some romance I knew I never would’ve watched with my real father, no matter how close we’d been. Way too steamy.

  I shook my head. “No, thanks.”

  Barry frowned. “Grace, what’s wrong?”

  What was wrong? What was wrong? What house had he been living in for the past few weeks? My mother and I had started World War Five and I had solidly placed him on her side. He was the enemy. I didn’t mingle with the enemy. That’s what was wrong.

  But I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  He didn’t buy it. He gave me a concerned look and stepped toward me, grasping my arm. “Is it Todd?” he asked.

  Again, I shook my head. “No.”

  Barry wrinkled his brow. “Are you sure? You two spent a lot more time together this week. He hasn’t…tried something…has he?”

  I wanted to roll my eyes. Why was he asking about Todd of all people? Why didn’t he care that I hadn’t talked to my mother since last Friday? Why didn’t he want to powwow and try to concoct some kind of plan to get Mom and me back together?

  I didn’t want to confess Todd was no longer interested; I’d lose my biggest reason to leave the house these days. So, I lied, saying, “We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”

  I guess my lying abilities hadn’t improved any because Barry kept watching me with this strange, probing stare.

  Ad-libbing, I said, “He had to hang out with one of his friends tonight because the friend had been getting jealous of all the time he’d been spending with me.”

  There, maybe a partial lie was at least a little more believable.

  It must’ve been.

  Barry answered with, “Oh. Then what’s wrong, honey?”

  Honey? Cursing the fact I was facing him—because it took everything inside me not to wince over the endearment—I shook my head. “Nothing.”

  I grew increasingly freaked out. He knew good and well what was wrong with me. I was fighting with my mother. Duh.

  I just wanted to go to my room and get away from him. But he stood, blocking my path. I couldn’t think of anything to say to convince him I was fine. Feeling more and more nervous by the moment, my mind went completely blank.

  Then, to my own horror, tears filled my eyes.

  “Oh, Gracie,” he whispered and reached out, wrapping his fingers around my arm and pulling me close to him for a hug. I started to tremble, standing stiffly in his embrace, too afraid to push away from him as everything inside me screamed for me to do.

  “Baby, don’t cry.” His voice soothing, he stroked my hair.

  I had no idea what to think. Was he just being fatherly? Did he have any clue he was scaring me to death? I squeezed my eyes closed, not sure how to react, forcing myself not to overreact.

  Until he kissed me.

  It wasn’t one of those fatherly pecks on the cheek either.

  I was trying so hard not to let him know he completely freaked me out because I didn’t want to offend him if this was just his way of being a dad. And then he dug his fingers in my hair and tilted my face up. Eyes still closed, I was wondering how I was going to politely wiggle my way out of this when I felt the press of his mouth against mine.

  This was the first time a man—a grown man, not just a boy my age—had ever kissed me. I could actually feel how old he was. Grandpa cologne assaulted my nose as his lips—all dry and squishy-soft with a slight shake as if he suffered from Parkinson's disease—mashed against me.

  Blurting out a screech, I yanked away from him.

  Hoping he’d accidentally slipped, as if maybe he had leaned a little too close and, oops, brushed his mouth across mine, I looked up with huge eyes, covering my mouth with one hand.

  He pulled back, not looking startled at all. In fact, the sicko smiled.

  I shoved past him and full out sprinted to my room.

  “Grace!” he called, hurrying after me.

  In fear, I yelped and slammed my door, bolting it and not caring if he heard this time.

  Pressing my back to the exit, I covered my mouth and started to cry as I’d never cried before, not even after the dreaded doctor’s visit. It hurt, actually hurt to heave out the sounds that ripped from my chest.

  When Barry knocked, I let out another small scream and leapt away from the infected portal. I spun around and stared at the locked opening of my room, afraid he might break it down to maul me some more.

  “Grace! Honey, I’m sorry. I never meant to do that so soon.”

  My eyes flew open wide. So soon? But he had meant to eventually?

  I started to hyperventilate as Barry just kept talking to me through the door.

  “I know you’re scared,” he said in a calming voice. “And I’m so…so sorry. I never meant to scare you. I didn’t mean to rush you at all, baby. Grace, would you please talk to me?”

  I couldn’t get past the fact he’d seriously meant to kiss me.

  “It’ll be okay.” His voice remained soothing as if he thought I was merely gun-shy
but otherwise willing to kiss him back. “Since I convinced your mother to take you to the doctor and get you set up on birth control, we can be safe.”

  I gagged.

  Covering my mouth with both hands as vomit worked its way up my throat, I scrambled toward my trashcan and hovered above it. All the while, Barry continued to talk, telling me I wouldn’t have to worry about babies or diseases.

  I wretched again.

  Though, at least now I knew what had happened to my mother. He had infected her thinking.

  My stepfather continued pouring out his feelings about how he’d wanted to be with me since the first night he’d met me and how we could keep it a secret from my mother. He was admitting just how ashamed he was of himself for being jealous of Todd when I opened my bedroom window and climbed outside.

  Chapter 19

  Red like the rose on the necklace he gave me. I can’t wear it any longer. I feel cheap. Bought. Does he think he owns me now? Some John visiting his prostitute who’s left her red light on, telling everyone she’s open for business. He wants to turn me into Hester Prinn. He’s made me dirty like the red clay packed into my home ground. I’m buried under the scarlet dirt with memories of him. I wish I could wash off this shameful, filthy red with a wire brush.

  * * * *

  As soon as I escaped, crawling out my bedroom window and landing feet-first in the snow, I started running. Tears streaming down my face, I sprinted madly without destination. For a while, I kept looking back, thinking he would follow. A few times, I tripped and even fell in the muddy, snowy ground. I landed on hands and knees, dirty wet snow and small pebbles digging into my bare hands and through the jean cloth on my knees.

  I hadn’t put on any gloves; my fingers were so cold I couldn’t move them properly.

  I ran all the way to the dark abandoned high school before I realized I had no idea where to go. I hadn’t paused to put on a coat or grab my cell phone. My body wouldn’t stop shaking and I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or cold.

  Probably both.

  Help. I needed help, and the first person I thought of was Todd. He’d wanted to be my boyfriend so bad; he’d made so many attempts. Tonight was his chance to prove himself worthy.