Losing Grip

by Mercy Amare

  Is it bad that I’m jealous he got eleven extra years with his sister than I got with mine?

  “What were you doing?” Drew says suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows.

  Sebastian opens his mouth, probably to tell Drew to shut up, but I cut him off.

  “We were having a hot threesome with a hooker. Too bad you missed it.”

  Isaac and Hope start laughing and Drew just stares at me with his mouth open.

  “Ugh... Jinger?”

  I close my eyes.

  God, please tell me that is not Brody standing behind me.

  I open one eye and look back. He is, in fact, standing there.

  Crap.

  Crap.

  Crap.

  “Please tell me that you did not just hear that,” I say.

  “I... ugh... a threesome with a hooker and Sebastian?” Brody asks, shock in his voice.

  “She was joking,” Sebastian tells Brody and everybody else at our table. “Jinger is really sarcastic, so sometimes it’s hard to tell if she’s joking or not. We just went to eat food. And ate ice cream. Really, it was just an ordinary night. Nothing happened.”

  “Unless you count the blow job I gave him when he was driving,” I say to Brody. I don’t know why I say it. I just can’t hold it in.

  Besides, I want him to feel like I did last night when he ditched me.

  With that, Brody turns around and walks away from our table, leaving me to feel like crap.

  “I so told you!” Drew says to Hope and Isaac. “You both owe me a hundred bucks.”

  “Drew, she’s being sarcastic again,” Sebastian says.

  “The real question is, why do you want Brody to think you’re hooking up with Sebastian,” Hope says.

  “Because I just want Brody to leave me alone,” I say, and then stand up. “I’ll see you guys later.”

  I grab my coffee and exit the dining hall as quickly as possible.

  When I get outside, I want to stop, but I know Sebastian probably isn’t far behind. I just want to be alone.

  “Jinger, wait up,” I hear somebody say.

  It’s not Sebastian.

  It’s Brody.

  I stop, put on my bitch face, and turn to him. “What do you want?”

  “What was that in there?” he asks. “You and Sebastian? Did you hook up with him to get back at me for ditching you last night?”

  I cross my arms over my chest. “You are such an idiot, Brody.”

  “Look, I’m sorry,” he says. “I freaked out last night. I haven’t had feelings like this... ever. And I just... I don’t know... I panicked. I screwed up, I know. But please, Jinger, give me another change.”

  I turn my head so he can’t see the tears in my eyes.

  I’m so weak and I hate myself for it.

  “No, Brody. You freak out once, you will do it again. Better now than a month from now. Or six months from now.”

  With that, I walk away.

  Brody did screw up, but really, it’s for the best.

  Or, that’s what I’m telling myself.

  3 p.m.

  The stars are the limit.

  Hope and I go back to our dorm as soon as school is over. She is going to “help me get ready”. I am already worried about what that entails.

  First, she says she is going to fix my makeup. I am praying she doesn’t go too dark.

  She explains everything she is doing as she does it. It eases me a little.

  “Are you a professional at this or something?” I ask her, as she puts mascara on me. Normally I wouldn’t let anybody that close to my eyes, but she seems very at ease.

  “I’ve been practicing on my older sister for years,” she answers. “This summer, during a photo shoot, one of the makeup artists didn’t show up and we were short on time. I ended up doing makeup for four different girls. My boss was so impressed that I got to do it the rest of the summer.”

  “Your boss must have loved you.”

  “Seriously. I can do it all,” she says. “I’m good at designing clothes, taking photos, makeup and hair. My dream was to start my own clothing line, but now I think I can do more. I want to do it all.”

  “That’s awesome, Hope. I know you will do it,” I tell her, truly meaning it. “You’re the most driven person I know. The stars are the limit.”

  Hope grins. “What about you? What is your dream?”

  I shrug. “I have no idea. I like writing on my blog. Maybe I’ll be a writer.”

  Yeah, probably not.

  I’m good at writing about my life, but I am so not good at writing fiction. I tried once and it sounded like bad fan fiction.

  “Oooh, maybe you can get a job at Vogue and write all about my clothing line,” she says.

  “Maybe,” I say, considering it. I hadn’t even thought about writing articles for magazines. I guess there are all kinds of writers.

  “Or maybe I’ll give you a job at the magazine I start,” she says.

  I grin at her.

  She has such big dreams.

  Hope holds up a mirror for me.

  I gasp in surprise.

  Hope didn’t make me look bad. Not that I thought she would, but I thought she’d go too dark. She didn’t. In fact, you can hardly tell I’m wearing makeup. She just enhanced my features.

  “My cheekbones look so high,” I say. “I look kind of beautiful.”

  “Ugh, yeah you do,” she agrees. “You’re hot. Now let’s do your hair and put on your dress.”

  By five o’clock, I am putting on the dress she made for me.

  It falls to my mid thighs, covering up my scars, but I’m still uncomfortable with how short it is. I don’t want anybody else to see my scars.

  The dress is fitted at the top, and flares out right at my hips. It’s black with hot pink thread and under the skirt of the dress, pink lace peaks out. The dress is perfect for me. It’s definitely something I would’ve bought at the store.

  “Can I put on leggings?” I ask her.

  “Why? Your legs are hot. Seriously, I’m jealous,” she says. “You’re really skinny, by the way.”

  “So are you.”

  “Not as skinny as you.”

  “I’m only skinny because I don’t eat,” I tell her. “I’m not a healthy skinny.”

  “You’re the size of practically every model I fitted, except you’re shorter,” she says. “I think you do eat more than some of them.”

  I laugh at that. “Well, I don’t do it because I want to be skinny. I just don’t eat because I’m hardly ever hungry.”

  “The models were definitely hungry. One day I ate a cheeseburger in front of them and I could see them practically drooling. One of them gave me a murderous glare for the rest of the day.”

  “Maybe I should be a model,” I joke, putting my hands on my hips. I do my best catwalk around the room.

  She giggles. “You’re actually not bad at that.”

  “I do kind of feel like a supermodel in this dress,” I say. “Now, what about leggings?”

  “No,” she says. “It’ll look better without them. Wear biker shorts under if you must. Nobody will see them. And wear your pink Toms. They would look totes adorable.”

  “Totes?” I ask.

  “Totes is my shortened way of saying totally.”

  I nod. “Right.”

  I go over to my drawer, grab biker shorts and go to the bathroom to put them on. With them on, you can still see the bottom of one of my scars, but it’s hardly noticeable. Besides, I don’t plan on lifting my skirt for any reason tonight. I should be okay.

  When I come out of the bathroom, I’m shocked to see at how fast Hope is putting on her makeup.

  “Wow, you’re fast,” I say.

  She shrugs. “I’m faster at doing my own makeup because I’ve been doing it regularly since I was twelve.”

  “My getting ready usually consists of putting on my clothes and leaving.”

  “I know,” she says. “I’ve been dying to see you all d
olled up. You’re adorable, Jinger.”

  “Thanks.”

  I watch Hope as she gets ready. She spends five minutes on her makeup, ten minutes on her hair, and it only takes her a second to get dressed. She looks good. Great, actually. She’s so girly. I love that about her.

  Hope has gorgeous red hair and dark brown eyes. She’s tall. Like supermodel tall. I’m 5’5” and she told me the other day that she is 5’11”, so she towers over me quite a bit. She is wearing a pair of black, ballet flats with her dark blue dress. Her dark brown eyes look even darker tonight.

  “What do you think?” she asks, doing a spin.

  “I think you’re beautiful. Nobody is even going to notice me next to you.”

  She grins. “Whatever, Jinger.”

  My phone vibrates.

  It’s Sebastian.

  Sebastian: We are waiting outside for you and Hope. :)

  “You ready?” I ask her.

  She nods.

  Together, we walk out of the dorm to meet the guys.

  When we get outside, there is a black limo waiting for us. The driver is standing by the door and he opens it for us. I get in first, followed by Hope.

  “Hot,” Drew says to me at the same time Sebastian says, “You look beautiful.”

  “You too, Hope,” Drew says to her.

  “I’m still not having a threesome with you,” she says, laughing. “But thanks for the compliment.”

  I turn to Isaac. “Are you nervous?”

  “No way,” he says. “I used to do this all the time when I lived in DC. If anything, I’m excited. I was worried it would be hard to get a gig, but I got some really good recommendations.”

  My phone vibrates. I pull it out to see a text from my mom.

  Mother: Jinger, doll. How are you?

  I roll my eyes.

  Me: Fine.

  Mother: Good. Glad you’re enjoying boarding school.

  Me: Yep.

  Mother: Can you talk some sense into your father? He wants to spend Thanksgiving in Greece.

  Me: That was my idea.

  Mother: We can’t go to Greece. You know I always host a dinner in The Hamptons.

  Me: Well, you stay and host dinner. Dad, Caleb and I can go alone.

  I don’t get a reply, which probably means I pissed her off.

  Or she’s going to take my advice.

  Could be either.

  I really hope she stays in The Hamptons while the rest of us go to Greece. It would be nice not to put up with her.

  “What’s the matter?” Sebastian asks, seeing the frown on my face.

  “Nothing. Just my mom. You know,” I say, shrugging my shoulder. “She likes to be dramatic.”

  “Oooh, champagne,” Drew says. “Let’s get a little tipsy.”

  “I can’t,” Isaac says. “I like to stay focused when I’m working. But don’t let me stop you guys.”

  “I don’t drink,” I say.

  “Right. I forgot,” Drew says. “Will you be mad if we drink a little?”

  I shake my head. “No, it’s okay.”

  Hope and Drew both fill a flute with champagne. They offer one to Sebastian, but he turns them down.

  “Here’s to Isaac,” Drew says.

  Hope clinks her flute against his and they both down their drinks.

  And that pretty much sets the tone for the rest of the night.

  8 p.m.

  I’m at home.

  We get checked into the Four Seasons Hotel and then head over to the club where Isaac will be DJ’ing.

  Drew gives me my fake ID on the way to the club, and I’m surprised at just how good it is. Though, I guess I shouldn’t be.

  “How much do I owe you?” I ask him.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says. “Just... buy me a couple of drinks tonight.”

  “Done,” I say. “Actually, everybody, my dad complained that I wasn’t spending enough money, so if anybody needs anything, it’s on me.”

  “Won’t your dad get the credit card statement?” Hope asks.

  I pull a wad of cash out of my clutch. “That’s why I brought cash.”

  “Dang, you have rich parents,” Isaac says. “My dad and I are comfortable, but were definitely nothing like you guys. I had to get a scholarship to be able to afford to come to New Haven Academy.”

  “My mom isn’t rich,” Drew says. “I’m here because Sebastian’s dad is paying for it. My dad refused. He says public schools are good enough.”

  “Dad says you divorce wives, not kids. Even though he’s hardly ever there, he does a good job supporting financially,” Sebastian says, shrugging. “Works for me, because Drew is my best friend.”

  “What does your dad do?” I ask Sebastian.

  “He’s in politics,” he answers. “He’s the Governor of Massachusetts.”

  “Tell her what your mom does,” Drew says.

  Sebastian looks at Drew and rolls his eyes. “My mom is Rachel Brian.”

  “As in the movie star?” Hope asks, in shock. “How did I not know this? I know everything.”

  Drew laughs. “Sebastian doesn’t like to tell people who his mom is.”

  “I would hardly call her my mom. I see her once a year, if I’m lucky. She’s always off somewhere doing a red carpet event, filming a movie, or whatever else movie stars do,” Sebastian says, a little bitterly. “It’s even worse since Sadie died.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, truly meaning it. “My mom kind of checked out too.”

  I don’t have to tell Sebastian why she checked out. He knows.

  He gives me a sympathetic look. But it’s not a look of pity. It’s a look that tells me he knows what I’m going through—maybe not exactly, but he’s gone through something horrible too.

  “You know, my dad checked out too. He’s just recently started talking to me more. Or maybe it is me talking to him more, I don’t know,” I tell him.

  “If anything, Sadie’s death made my dad closer to me,” Sebastian says. “I am the only child he has left. I mean, besides Drew. He’s still not around much, but he’s tried. I actually saw him a couple of days over summer break, which I usually don’t.”

  “You’re lucky that it brought your dad closer to you,” I say.

  Not only did I lose my dad, but for a bit, I lost my brother Caleb too.

  I just hate the reason that I got him back in my life.

  I shudder, thinking about that awful night. I never, ever want to go through that again.

  We pull up in front of the club, and Isaac rubs his hands together. “This is really happening.”

  “I’m excited to watch you DJ,” Hope tells him. “I bet you rock.”

  “I guess you will see,” he says.

  The limo driver opens the door and we all file out of the vehicle. Isaac goes first, followed by Hope, Drew, me, and Sebastian. There is a huge line to get into the club, but we don’t have to wait. We all show the bouncer our ID’s and we are escorted inside. Isaac is pulled away to get set up, and the rest of us kind of stand there awkwardly for a second.

  Drew spots a girl smiling at him. She motions him over. “Later,” he tells us.

  “I’m going to get wasted now,” Hope says. “Make sure I don’t try to go home with some random guy. Or girl.”

  She walks towards the bar, and I turn to Sebastian.

  “So,” I say. “What now?”

  He motions to a couch that is free, so we walk over and take a seat. A girl wearing a short, black tutu comes over to take our drink orders, so I just tell her that I want a Red Bull. Sebastian does the same.

  “I’m not sure what we are supposed to do at a club,” I yell at Sebastian over the music. Right now, they just have some dance tunes playing. A lot of people are packed onto the dance floor, grinding on each other.

  “Do you dance?” he asks.

  I shake my head. “I wish. I just... never learned.”

  “Do you want to try?” he asks.

  The waitress brings us ou
r drinks and then leaves again.

  “I think I want to,” I tell him.

  “Okay,” he says, grinning. “Let’s finish our drinks and go out there.”

  I smile back, a little nervously.

  “By the way, I love your dress. It’s very... you,” he says.

  “Hope designed it,” I tell him. “She’s known me for like five days, but she already knows me better than anybody. Besides you, that is. My brother Caleb always tells me that I’m a really good liar. I don’t know how you figured out that I was lying.”

  “My dad was a lawyer before he became Governor,” Sebastian tells me. “I guess I couldn’t help but pick up some of his tricks.”

  “Do you plan on becoming a lawyer?”

  “Yes,” he answers. “I really want to follow in my dad’s footsteps. Maybe someday I will become a Governor too.”

  “I’ll vote for you.”

  Sebastian grins. “I’m glad I can count on your vote.”

  “Definitely, Mr. Governor.”

  “What about you?” he asks. “What do you plan on doing?”

  “Hope asked me this earlier,” I say. “I don’t know for sure. I really enjoy writing. Maybe I will work for some magazine or blog writing articles or something. I don’t really need to make a lot of money. I can live off my trust fund for the rest of my life and still have plenty to leave my kids.”

  “You don’t have to figure it all out now. You’re only a junior in high school. Some people don’t figure it out until after they graduate college. Or maybe not even ever,” he says. “I feel fortunate to know what I want. I’ve always known. My dad is... awesome. He is my number one supporter. I guess it’s only natural that I want to be like him.”

  “If anything, I could see Caleb following in Dad’s footsteps. Dad is so hard on him... on both of us, really. I figure one day, when Caleb gets his shit together, that he will take over as CEO of Rivera Industries.”