Losing Grip

by Mercy Amare

  When I go to climb out of the window, I sort of fall.

  Well, not sort of. I do fall. Right on my face.

  “Ouch,” I say to myself, when my face in the grass.

  I am so glad nobody was around to see this.

  “Jinger, are you okay?”

  I hear Sebastian’s voice.

  Just. Perfect.

  “Never better,” I say, pushing myself off the ground. He holds out a hand and helps me up. “Thanks.”

  “So, are you ready for this?” he asks.

  I nod, then shake my head. “I know you’ve only known me... well, fifteen hours now... but I’m sure by now you’ve noticed that I’m not exactly social.”

  “I’ll let you in on a secret,” he says. “The secret to being social is faking it.”

  “Fake it?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  “How do you fake... being social?”

  “I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m not that social either.”

  I laugh. “Yeah, right. Everybody loves you. Even that snobby chick, Nicole. And she seems like... you know... one of the popular people.”

  “This is boarding school. The rules are different here,” he says. “Here, it’s about money. Power. Status. The clothes you wear say a lot about you.”

  I look down at my pink skinny jeans. I found them in the bargain section at a store in the mall. They were twenty bucks.

  “My clothes say I like the color pink, bargain bins, and spend minimal time getting dressed,” I say.

  “Maybe. But your butt looks good in those jeans.”

  I feel like I should be offended by his comment. But then I see a huge grin on his face. I can’t be mad at him.

  “Well, you know,” I say, swinging my hips back and forth.

  “See, Jinger! You can totally fake it,” Sebastian says proudly. “I’m telling you, there is an extrovert in you just waiting to get out.”

  Maybe he’s right.

  And maybe Caleb was right too.

  Getting away from home is going to be good for me.

  I grin big. “You know, in a weird way, I feel free here. Like, nobody knows me. Well, I mean they know of me, but they don’t know me personally. There are no expectations. I don’t have..”

  My voice trails off.

  I almost said people here don’t know that my family is screwed up.

  They don’t know that my brother is in rehab. Though, they could easily figure it out.

  But I’m definitely not telling him that.

  “I know what you mean,” Sebastian says. “I’d probably go crazy if it wasn’t for boarding school. I don’t know how I made it at home until I was fourteen.”

  “If it wasn’t for Caleb, I wouldn’t have.”

  “Who is Caleb?” he asks.

  “My brother.”

  “Oh. Right.” He looks a little relieved.

  Which is bad. I so do not want him, or any other guy, to get a crush on me.

  I don’t know what to say, so I don’t say anything.

  “You might find that you have a lot in common with people here,” Sebastian says, breaking the awkward silence. “Besides the kids who are on scholarship, we all come from pretty wealthy families. So there is a lot of pressure to carry on the legacy.”

  “Sometimes, I feel stupid for feeling this way,” I tell him. “I have the world at my fingertips, and some people go to bed hungry at night. I should be grateful, not angry.”

  “Hashtag, rich-kid problems.”

  “What?”

  “It’s something some of the kids at school do.” He pulls out his phone and types something in. “This is Nicole’s Instagram. She posted a picture of her pouting while drinking a Starbucks coffee.”

  I look at the caption under the photo.

  Nicole Wright: They messed up my order at Starbucks, but I couldn’t go back and fix it because I was late for my mani-pedi appointment. :( #richpeopleproblems

  Wow.

  She’s even shallower than I originally thought.

  “I really want to slap her now,” I tell him.

  He laughs. “You and me both.”

  I know pain. Real pain. And she’s on her Instagram complaining about her Starbucks order.

  “Why do you follow her?” I ask.

  “I don’t,” he says. “I did follow her for three days. After seeing stuff like this on my timeline every hour, I unfollowed her.”

  “Three days. That’s impressive. I would not have lasted that long.”

  He shrugs. “I was a freshman. I wanted to make friends. But then I realized I wasn’t that desperate.”

  “What’s sad is the one hundred and thirty people who hearted her picture,” I say.

  “I heard that she paid for most of her Instagram followers.”

  “You can do that?”

  “Apparently.”

  “That’s really pathetic.”

  As we walk closer to the edge of the woods, I see the glow of a camp fire. Music is pulsing loud, and people are standing around, dancing, and drinking out of red cups. They all look like they’re having a good time. I feel a twinge of anxiety, but then I remember what Sebastian said.

  Fake it. Maybe if I pretend like my life isn’t really screwed up, it will come true.

  I can dream.

  “Welcome to New Haven Academy, Jinger,” Sebastian says.

  “Jinger!” I hear somebody yell.

  A very drunk Drew walks towards us. He trips and almost falls a few times, and once he gets to us, he puts on arm around my shoulder. I can tell he’s using my body to keep him upright.

  “You came,” he says, smiling. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  I push his arm off me and he stumbles. Sebastian catches him to keep him from falling over.

  “You are so wasted,” I say.

  He holds up his hand and puts his thumb and index finger an inch apart. “Just a little drunk. Just a lot of fun. You should try it.”

  “I should take him back to the dorm,” Sebastian says. “Do you want to hang out here for, like, ten minutes? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

  I look around at all the people.

  These people have been going to school here for a while. They all know each other. They already have friends. I’m the new kid. The outcast.

  But, I promised.

  Fake it.

  I can do this.

  “I’ll be fine,” I tell him. It’s actually the truth.

  He grins. “I’ll be right back.”

  With his arm around Drew, they walk back towards the dorms.

  Well, he’s mostly carrying Drew, because yeah, he’s that drunk.

  I’m not standing alone for long when somebody comes up to me.

  It’s Brody, the gorgeous guy from earlier. He’s just as beautiful as I remember him.

  “Hey, Rivera,” he greets me.

  “Jinger,” I correct him.

  Well, he’s just as annoying as I remember. Darn.

  “Sorry. Jinger,” he corrects. “I’m glad you’re here, though I didn’t expect it. Are you alone?”

  “I came with Sebastian,” I answer. “He had to take Drew back to his dorm. Drew was... very drunk.”

  “I noticed that earlier.”

  “You’re not drunk,” I say, noticing that he’s not slurring at all.

  “I’m not drinking,” he says. “We have lacrosse practice tomorrow morning at eight. I’d rather not be hung-over when that happens. In fact, I will probably be heading back pretty soon. I just wanted to catch up with all my friends.”

  “That’s... responsible.”

  “You sound so shocked,” he says. “How little you already think of me.”

  “I was obviously wrong.”

  “It’s okay. I probably deserve the judgment,” he says. “So what is the deal with you and Cruz?”

  “Cruz?”

  “Sebastian. Sorry. I have this thing where I like to call people by their last name.”

  “Right
,” I say. “And there is no deal. Sebastian is nice. He gets me. So we are going to be friends.”

  “Can we be friends too?” he asks.

  I nod. “As long as you’re nice.”

  Wow. Two friends in one day. I’m on a roll.

  “I’m always nice.”

  Ha.

  Yeah, freaking right.

  “So you aren’t crushing on Cruz?”

  “I just met him today, so I’m going to say no, to that,” I tell him. “In my experience, first impressions are hardly accurate. I make it a general rule to know somebody longer than one day before I crush on them.”

  Actually, I’ve never had a crush before... I mean, obviously I’ve crushed on cute celebrities, but I’ve never actually had a crush on somebody I know in real life. It’s weird, but true. I definitely won’t be telling him that, because he seems like the type of guy who would look at it as a challenge.

  “So, what was your first impression of me?” he asks.

  “Arrogant is the word that comes to mind,” I answer. “Also, you really like to be right.”

  “That’s fair.”

  “Did you Google me after I left, to see why I’m here?”

  He shakes his head. “No. But, can I guess?”

  “You can guess all you want.” But even if you get it right, I will never tell you the truth.

  “Here are the main reasons kids transfer here—drugs, divorces, and parents moving to another country, not caring enough to take their kid along,” he says.

  “My parents are always in another country. We have live in staff, so they don’t seem too concerned about leaving me along for weeks, sometimes months, at a time. The longest they were ever away was when I was fourteen. They were gone for six whole months. So, if that were the case, I’d still be home.”

  “I do believe that was the longest I’ve ever heard you talk at once,” he says, lifting one side of his lip into a smirk.

  I shrug. “I find that most situations don’t require a lot of words.”

  That, and if I said everything I thought, people would think I was crazy. Because, I sort of am.

  Like right now, I’m thinking how gorgeous Brody’s eyes are. I want to ask him if they’re contacts, because they are too beautiful to be real. But I probably will never ask him.

  “Wow. You really are the perfect girl,” he says.

  I don’t say anything. I just look at him.

  He’s crazy.

  Obviously.

  “You don’t talk a lot. That is a quality I like in a girl. Trust me when I say, it’s very hard to find,” he says. “So, I’m thinking that you and I need to get married. Like yesterday.”

  I laugh. Yeah, not going to happen.

  “You wound me,” Brody says, putting his hands dramatically on his heart.

  “Brody, I’m sixteen years old. I’m pretty sure it’s not even legal to get married this young.”

  “You could probably do it with parental consent.”

  I snort. “My dad might not care about me, but I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t let that happen.”

  “Why would you think that your dad doesn’t care about you?”

  “Because he doesn’t,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.

  I act like it’s not a big deal.

  But it is.

  It’s so a big deal.

  The only person in the world who loves me is Caleb, and my dad has him locked up in rehab. And the worst part of the whole thing is, Dad thinks he’s doing it for me. He thinks that Caleb is a negative influence. Which is a load of crap.

  My phone vibrates, so I pull it out of my pocket.

  Sebastian: Drew is sick. And I hate to ditch you, but I kind of want to make sure he doesn’t die.

  I frown at the text.

  Just great.

  “What’s wrong?” Brody asks.

  “Sebastian isn’t coming back.”

  “Does that mean I get to keep you all to myself?”

  I roll my eyes. “Ugh, no. I’m probably going to walk back to my dorm.”

  “Can I walk you there?” he asks.

  I start to say no thanks, but it is kind of dark. I don’t know anybody here yet.

  I mean, I’m sure it’s safe. If it wasn’t, my dad never would’ve sent me here. But one can never be too careful. Yolo, right?

  I nod my head.

  A huge grin breaks out on his face. He holds his arm out for me. I ignore it, and walk ahead. He catches up and paces beside me.

  “So, I’m curious about something,” he says.

  “Remember the cat,” I say.

  “Cat?”

  “Curiosity killed it.”

  He shakes his head at me. “And she has a sense of humor. A weird one, but still.”

  I shrug.

  What can I say?

  I’m sarcastic.

  “I wanted to ask you something about your dad,” he continues. “Did you really mean what you said earlier? That you think your dad doesn’t care?”

  “I don’t think. I know.”

  He opens his mouth to talk; I cut him off.

  “If we are going to be friends, there have to be rules.”

  He smiles. “Friends. I definitely like that you already consider me a friend.”

  “I don’t,” I tell him. “But, if there is ever a possibility of friendship, there are a few rules.”

  “Okay,” he says.

  “Rule number 1—never ask me about my personal life. Ever. Rule number 2—never ask to drive my car. The answer will always be no. And rule number 3—don’t ever do drugs around me, because it will piss me off and I will never talk to you again,” I say.

  “Even weed?”

  I nod.

  “Okay, the last one is weird, but I can abide by those rules,” he says. “I don’t smoke, because then I can’t focus as well when I play lacrosse. But, I’m curious. Rule number two... what kind of car do you have?”

  “A Bentley. It’s a Continental GT BR-10.”

  Yeah, I know my car is extravagant. But my dad told me I could have any car I wanted, and it was what I wanted. I feel blessed to have the things I do.

  “Nice,” he says. “I’m jealous, and I do want to drive it, but I won’t ask.”

  “Good. You’re learning already.”

  We come to a stop in front of the downstairs bathroom window.

  “Thanks for walking me back,” I tell him. “Good luck with lacrosse practice tomorrow.”

  He smiles. “I’ll see you around, Jinger.”

  He turns to walk away and I look at the window.

  “Hey, um... can you give me a boost?” I ask.

  He laughs. “Have you never snuck out before?”

  I shake my head.

  “Don’t worry. Soon, you will be a pro,” he says, then puts his hands around my waist and lifts me up. I climb through the window. Thankfully, I don’t fall on my face this time.

  “Thank you,” I whisper to him through the window.

  “You’re really light.”

  I shrug, and turn to walk to my room.

  “Jinger, wait,” he says.

  I turn back around.

  “Can I have your phone number?”

  I shake my head. “You have to earn that privilege.”

  “But Sebastian has your number,” he protests.

  “Maybe I just want an excuse for you to come find me tomorrow.”

  I don’t give him time to respond, I just turn and walk up to my dorm room.

  Did I really just flirt with Brody?

  Yeah. I think I’m going to like it here.

  Saturday, September 7

  The hate is mutual.

  On Saturday morning, I wake up at 5:00 and can’t go back to sleep. So, I decide it’s time to get up and face the music.

  I open my computer and read the email from my father.

  Jinger,

  I know you don’t understand why I sent you to boarding school, or why I sent your brother to rehab... But I did it b
ecause I love you both. I can’t bear the thought of losing either one of you, and I did what I thought was best.

  Enjoy your time away at school. Make some friends. It hurts me to see how sad you are.

  Know that I care about you a lot.

  Dad

  I roll my eyes at the computer screen.

  Part of me thinks I should ignore this email, but if I do, Dad will get mad. He always gets mad when I don’t reply to him. So, I click reply. And I stare at the blank screen for at least ten minutes before I type a response.

  Dad,

  You are right. I will never understand why you separated me from Caleb. He’s the one person in the world who loves me, and being away from him sucks. It’s definitely not for the best.

  Surprisingly, boarding school isn’t bad so far. I’ve already met some cool people. If it continues, I think I’d like to come back here next year.

  Jinger

  P.S. You don’t have to say you care. I know you stopped “caring” about eleven years ago.

  I hit send and shut my laptop. I was going to check my blog, but I don’t even feel like it now.

  I get out of bed, throw my hair into a messy bun, put on shorts and running shoes, and go to the track. I’m not much of a runner, but I do like to do sprints. I walk for three minutes, run for two, and continue the cycle for about thirty minutes.

  I’m not in shape. It’s because I don’t eat enough, but I can’t help that. I don’t have an appetite. I try to eat healthy foods as much as I can—no fried foods, lots of fruits, and vegetables. But I’m a teenager, so it’s hard to always eat healthy. Plus, my favorite food is French fries. That certainly doesn’t help matters.

  Gah, I’m a mess.

  As I finish my second sprint, I look over and see Brody is walking beside me. And since I just finished running, I am out of breath. I’m trying not to gasp for air, but it’s kind of impossible.

  “Hey, Jinger. Fancy seeing you here,” he says.

  “Hey,” I say back. I’m still trying to catch my breath.

  “Are you okay?” he asks.

  I nod.

  “You’re breathing really hard.”