The Color of Us (College Bound Book 2)

by Laura Ward

  Jerry grunted and took another drink of his beer as he headed out of the kitchen. He wasn’t insulted. In his mind I was the idiot. I was busting my ass working two jobs, and I didn’t get respect at either of them. But I loved my Jeep and I loved my mom, so I worked hard to take care of both.

  The truth of the matter was, I was eighteen now and I couldn’t risk doing stupid shit anymore. I couldn’t change my past or that of my family, but at least I could try to keep myself out of jail. I could keep my mom from becoming homeless even if the house we lived in could barely be called a home in its current state.

  After Jerry was gone, I walked across the kitchen, reaching into the bowl on the table to grab the last banana. It was brown but still edible. I leaned against the edge of the counter and watched my mom scrub the old chipped frying pan.

  “Today’s grocery day, isn’t it?” I asked her in a low voice.

  Mom shrugged. “I think we have enough to get by until next week.” That was Mom code for Jerry spent the grocery money at the bar last night.

  I took a deep breath and gritted my teeth. “Why don’t you just kick him out, Mom? He’s not even helping with the bills anymore.” He was too lazy to even apply for unemployment.

  She shook her head. “The past couple of months have been tough for him. For us. I just have to be… understanding.” Her fingers worked vigorously in the bubbles, as if she just scrubbed enough she could make everything bright and squeaky clean. Jerry. Me. Our run-down house.

  Life had been hard on Mom. My so-called father had left as soon as she got knocked up at age sixteen. She’d been a single mother working at a grocery store after graduating high school. My mom and I had always lived in this house with my grandparents. They’d passed away while I was still young, and it had been tough for her to lose the only support she’d ever had. Jerry only ended up adding more stress to her life. She never complained though. No matter how bad things got, she faced her problems with her head held high. My mom was no saint or angel, but she was a fighter.

  I reached into my bag and pulled out three balled-up twenties and shoved them into the pocket of her housecoat. “Wait until he passes out to go. That way he can’t use it for alcohol.” I hated that she had to wait for her husband to be unconscious just so she could get groceries, and I know she hated that she depended so much on me, but this was our ritual.

  She only nodded in answer, too embarrassed to acknowledge that she needed her son’s help when she had a perfectly capable husband in the house.

  I peeled the banana and stood there for a moment hanging out with her. Mom and I weren’t the types for deep conversation, but I loved her. Hanging out in the kitchen with her, even in silence, was my way of letting her know she wasn’t going through this alone. People had come and gone, but it had always been the two of us.

  She cleared her throat. “Are you almost done with the community service?”

  “Yeah. This is the last day. I only have to do it a few hours this morning. Then I have to go to work.” During the week, I worked for a lawn service in the next town over. I spent every day in the sun, mowing lawns and weeding gardens in all the ritzy neighborhoods. The work was hard, but I didn’t mind it. It was my weekend job that I hated, the one where I actually had to see all the owners of those fancy houses face-to-face. I never admitted as much to my mom, but I think she knew.

  I took a bite of the banana and watched as she reached for a dirty plate that had been part of my grandmother’s china. I couldn’t remember the last time my mom had something nice and new of her own. The thought made me sick to know that the best I could do for her was promise there would be something in the fridge for her to eat and the heating bill would be paid. She deserved more. Especially from me.

  “Good,” she said. She didn’t tell me she hoped I’d learned my lesson, even though I knew that was packed in her one-word response. She was too much of a realist to voice that dream aloud.

  We both knew that my punishment had likely been a case of the judge taking pity on me. He could have easily just taken my license away instead of giving me classes and a few weeks of manual labor. I should be grateful he gave me a light sentence.

  “Did you see those community college applications I brought home?” Mom asked, interrupting my thoughts.

  I pushed off the counter and tossed my peel into the trash can. “Yeah. I’ll fill them out when I have time.” Maybe.

  She turned off the water and dried her hands with a towel as she looked at me. Her blond hair hung limp around her face like it was just as tired as she was. Even her eyes, which were green like mine, seemed to have lost the will to shine.

  “You can be so much more than this, baby.” She gestured at the house around us and then ducked her gaze away. “If you try, I know you can have more out of life than I’ve been able to give you.”

  The tightness in my throat was unfamiliar. My mom never said things like this. I’d never given her a reason to believe in me. This wasn’t a conversation I was ready to have. There were too many promises I couldn’t make to her.

  I stepped forward and kissed the top of her head and headed for the door without meeting her gaze again. “Love ya, Mom,” I said over my shoulder.

  “Love you, baby,” she called after me. “And I’m serious. Fill out the application.”

  I don’t know where she’d gotten her sudden, unfounded confidence in me, but for the first time, I was worried I’d truly disappoint her.

  Chapter Four

  “MaryAnn and Talia will be here in ten minutes to take you to the pool.” Mom snatched my plate before I could stop her.

  “I was going to finish that.” I blew out an angry puff of air when she dumped my unfinished bagel in the trash can. Damn calorie Nazi. Mom had always been overbearing and high-handed, but ever since the night of the accident, she’d been over the top. She couldn’t go back in time and change the events of that night, so she coped by micromanaging every aspect of my life and my dad’s.

  Mom was the center of our household, but she always seemed like an outsider, especially in her grief. When Dad and I missed Sam, we comforted each other. When Mom’s emotions got the best of her, she cleaned. And bossed. And organized. She focused on the things she could manipulate. She survived by wielding her control. Anytime Mom tried to talk about Sam, it sounded like she held her breath. Her voice was tight, and I could hear her teeth grind. Her body, her mouth, her hands were rigid and strained. She was attempting to hold it all in, to be strong for Dad and me, but I was worried that she would break. And when she did, I feared it would be something she’d never recover from. Sometimes I felt sorry for her, but mostly I felt sorry for myself. No matter how hard I tried, I could never satisfy her. I could never be perfect enough. I couldn’t replace Sam.

  “You don’t need that many carbs, dear. You know this.” She wiped the counter with a wet sponge, gathering the bagel crumbs in the palm of her other hand. “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips.” She dumped the crumbs into the sink and washed her hands. I rolled my eyes at her back.

  “And please don’t roll your eyes at me,” she said without turning around.

  The frigging woman had eyes in the back of her head.

  I blew out a breath, unsure which fight to pick first. I had no intention of going to the pool, and since I was still hungry, I was now in the mood to argue. “I don’t want to go to the country club. I hate that place.” I sounded childish, but it’d be worth it if I could talk my way out of a day of upper-crust snobbery.

  Mom’s eyes narrowed at me. “You hate Eagle Crest?” Her lips pursed in displeasure. “Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody hates the pool. Besides, we joined that place for you.” As she reprimanded me, she simultaneously got the Windex bottle out from under the sink and began to spray in short, angry bursts all over the counters.

  The country club membership was for my benefit? Ha! That was a lie. My parents joined the country club for Sam, not me. All of Sam’s friends were members, and since sh
e was such a social butterfly, she couldn’t stand being left out. Dad was so easygoing. He’d do anything to make her happy. Plus he knew membership was a great way to help his client development. Mom was always a fan of whatever seemed the most refined and upper class. She wasn’t being a snob. She was a woman who wanted to give the world to her daughters. So when Sam made this request, we became members.

  Me? I hated it. It was hard to sit back in the shadows and go unnoticed when everyone was always looking at you. Judging. Aside from MaryAnn and Talia, who were my friends, the rest of Eagle Crest was pretentious. The people there thought they were better than everyone else, including me. Of course, now when they looked down their nose at me, it was with sympathy.

  I preferred the snobbery.

  “Go put on a swimsuit. I told you, I’m forcing you out of the house. Time with your girlfriends will do you good. You also need some color on that skin. You’re as pale as a ghost.” She yanked a few paper towels off the holder and wiped the counters in long, straight strokes.

  I straightened my arm out in front of me and stared at it. She was wrong. I wasn’t pale; I was so white I was almost translucent. I could easily be mistaken as one of the undead, although being a member of the Cullen family might not be too bad. Even so, I couldn’t care less whether I was tan or not. Unlike my mother, I wasn’t in the mood to pretend I was ready to move on with my life.

  The sound of the doorbell forced her to abandon her cleaning and glare at me.

  “They’re here, Alexis. Put on your swimsuit. I’ll invite MaryAnn and Talia in and tell them you’ll be down in five minutes.” Mom hurried to answer the front door as I slowly climbed the stairs to my room. Some fights were too exhausting to even attempt. Especially when I knew I couldn’t win.

  A brand new, tags still on, white bikini lay on my bed. I shook my head and slipped off my pajamas. Time to face the pool bitches… for the first time, without my Sam.

  ***

  “Ermahgawd! Alexis, you look fantastic!” Melissa screeched as she wrapped her tiny, oil-covered arms around me and air-kissed my cheeks. The greeting was a little overenthusiastic considering we were little more than acquaintances. I knew who Melissa was, everyone did. Her dad owned half the town, and what he didn’t own, he could probably buy if he wanted to. Melissa was the closest thing we had to royalty in our town. I was actually kind of surprised she knew my name though.

  I plastered a smile on my face and wiped the oil off my skin. Who the hell still used oil? Melissa would end up looking like an old leather couch if she kept that shit up.

  “Thanks,” I said, adjusting the strap of my bikini. I don’t know why I bothered. Chances were, anyone looking at me would be hard-pressed to tell where the white bikini ended and my pasty skin began. I was practically glowing under the glare of the sun.

  Melissa settled back down on her chaise lounge, and Talia and MaryAnn hurried to grab the next closest chairs. I felt the edges of my mouth tilt down.

  When my mother forced me to come to the pool, I hadn’t anticipated that my friends would want to hold court with her royal highness. Melissa was the most popular girl at school, but she was a spoiled brat who could go from sweet to nasty in three seconds flat. Being around her made me uncomfortable, but since I’d come with Talia and MaryAnn, I felt obligated to stay. Leaving now would make a scene, and I hated being the center of attention. Besides, the last person you wanted to make waves with was Melissa. That was one thing I’d learned early on at school. I’d seen many people fall from social grace thanks to her anger.

  It wasn’t just Melissa though. All the kids who went to my private school had varying degrees of her sense of entitlement. Mommy and Daddy gave them everything they demanded, and none of them had to work for anything, not even their grades. The only form of entertainment left to most of them was social warfare. Sometimes it got ugly.

  I did my best to not get involved. I was Canada. Or maybe Switzerland. I just tried to be nice to everyone and stay under the radar. Hanging out with Melissa for the day was not in my best interest, but it didn’t look like I had much choice since Talia and MaryAnn were determined to stay.

  I sighed because it was glaringly obvious I didn’t fit in. I couldn’t wait to go to college and get away from the popularity games of high school and the social politics of the country club.

  Looking around for somewhere to sit, I saw that two of Melissa’s friends were lying on the other side of her, eyes closed as they soaked up the midday sunshine. Sam used to call the girls Thing One and Thing Two because Melissa never bothered to use their names when she was ordering them around. One and Two rarely spoke, unless they were given permission by her highness, of course.

  I walked down the row of bathing beauties and sat in the last lounge chair, one that was shaded by the cover of an umbrella. This small act of defiance to my mother’s wishes made me grin. To irritate her further, I slathered on a thick layer of sunblock. No color penetration here. I was staying pale and pasty and skin cancer-free, thank you very much.

  Once I was covered in lotion, I sat back in my chair and looked around. From our vantage point at the upper pool, I could see the golf carts scattered along the tightly trimmed greens and fairways. Down the hill to the left, couples who were dressed in white played rounds of tennis. And surrounding both the upper and lower pools, tables of adults sat, eating lunch and drinking cocktails.

  “Hello!” Melissa called out and stretched her arm high above her head. “We need some service here!” She snapped her fingers and waved her fingertips in the direction of the pool house restaurant.

  I leaned over to tell her that there was no poolside service and that she needed to go order inside. Before I got a chance, an employee walked past me. All pool staff wore the same dark green polo shirt and khaki shorts so they were easy to spot. The guy cleared his throat and held his tray out to the side, blocking my view of him.

  “Three Diet Cokes, an order of fries, and a soft pretzel. Number 1039.” Melissa barked out her order while looking down at her magazine. The guy didn’t move. Melissa looked up, eyes narrowed. “Now.” Again the guy stood still. “Aw, shit. Are you Mexican? Christ, I don’t speak Mexican. Hola? Soda y fries. Me hungry, Señor. Vamanos.” She flicked her hand like she was shooing him away.

  Holy hell, this was the mother of all awkward moments.

  My hand involuntarily lifted to cover my eyes, and I suddenly wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole. I’d never met anyone as inappropriate as Melissa. To her, vulgarity was an art form. She was like a skinny blond version of Donald Trump, and I was embarrassed to be associated with her.

  “Miss, I’m just here to collect trash. If you’d like to place an order, you’ll need to do that inside.”

  That voice. I knew that voice. I heard it every day for the past two weeks, making quiet, inappropriate comments in my ear during Weinberg’s boring driver’s ed lessons.

  Liam O’Connell worked at Eagle Crest?

  “I’m placing my order with a club employee. Do you need me to repeat it?” Melissa plastered a sugary smile on her face, her tone oozing with irritation. “My Daddy is on the board here. I suggest you take my order. Or start looking for another job.”

  His posture became rigid. “I’m here to collect. The. Trash.” Liam spat his words out and balled the fist that wasn’t holding the tray. I could see the fury in his posture. He looked ready for a fight.

  Melissa crossed her arms and leaned forward. “The only trash here is you.” She lifted her chin, wearing an ugly smile. “I heard the other staff talking earlier. You were late to work because you were picking up garbage on the side of the road like a criminal.”

  Who the hell did this girl think she was? I quickly stood up, moving in front of Liam. “Melissa!”

  My heart hammered in my chest. I was mortified and shocked to watch her treat another person this way. I looked over my shoulder at Liam, my lips turned down in concern. As soon as he recognized me, his expression soft
ened. “Lex?”

  The use of my new nickname made me grin.

  “Hey, Liam.” I turned to face Melissa and swallowed down my anxiety. I hated conflict, but I couldn’t just sit by and do nothing. Not this time. “You know he’s right. You have to place your order inside. That’s not his job. Besides, he’s my friend. You can’t talk to him like that.”

  Melissa gracefully stood up from her lounge chair and advanced on me like a lioness stalking a wounded deer. She narrowed her eyes so that her expression became lethal. My chest suddenly felt too weak to hold the nervous beating of my heart. I’d forgotten how scary Melissa could be when she didn’t get her way. I took a step backward, and Liam placed a hand on the small of my back.

  Melissa snorted and looked down her nose at me. “Seriously, Alexis? You're friends with him? Your mother would be appalled.” She folded her arms across her chest and looked Liam up and down. “Don’t you have some work to do?”

  I sucked in a breath. Liam held Melissa’s gaze without so much as a blink. Then without another word, he whipped around and strode back to the pool house like he might tear it down to its foundation.

  “How could you talk to him like that?” I tilted my head to the side and waited for her response. I wasn’t nervous any longer. I was pissed. Melissa had always been a bitch, but this entire situation was over the top even for her.

  She raised one eyebrow at my question and then spun around, her hips swaying as she walked away. She sat back down on her lounger, posing like a swimsuit model. She nudged Thing One lying beside her. “Go place our order.”

  Thing One sighed but did as she was told, setting her phone down and heading to the pool house.

  I continued to wait, but Melissa picked up her magazine, outright ignoring me.

  Thing Two looked up with a wink. “Melissa’s pissed that trash boy turned her down for a date. She even offered a preview blow job, but he refused. Now he’s persona non grata around here. You don’t turn down Melissa Smithfield.”