She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1)

by Jessica Calla

  He also learned that Ben is in surgery having a bullet removed from his arm. It ripped through his shoulder to his bone.

  “Thank God,” I say, thinking Juliet will be relieved to hear that Ben’s going to be fine.

  But instead, she has a melt down. “It’s because of me,” she says over and over. “Frank. Ben. I can’t believe I hurt them like this.”

  Telling her that none of this is her fault falls on deaf ears, so I let her cry. I hold her, keeping her close as she trembles in my arms. It’s all I can do. “First Justine, and now Frank and Ben. It’s me,” she says. “It has to be.”

  “No, no, baby,” I keep telling her as she sobs into my shirt. “None of this is your fault.”

  Eventually, the police catch up with us at the hospital, and again I rely on Rob to help delay them. Rob talks them down with the promise that he will get Juliet to the police station soon.

  I let Juliet take all the time she needs. When she’s ready, Rob drives us to the police station where we meet up with Pooja and Rocco. Other residents of Sheridan Hall are scattered around giving statements to officers. Some are crying, others are dramatically moving their arms. They all stop and stare at Juliet as she walks by. She grips my hand like a vice, and I do my best to steady her, to be her support. Rocco and Pooja join us. We embrace, speechless.

  An officer approaches and touches Juliet’s shoulder. She flinches and springs around then holds out a hand to me. I grab it to steady her.

  “Just got word. Your friend is out of surgery. He’s going to be okay.”

  “But Frank,” Juliet whispers. I look to Rocco, but like me he’s quiet. I’m sure inside he’s falling apart.

  The officer taps Juliet again. “I’m sorry, Ms. Anderson. But we need to get your statement. Are you ready?”

  Juliet wipes her tears away. “One second, please.”

  She turns to me. “Do you want me to come with you?” I ask.

  “I can do it.”

  “You can,” I assure her. “You can do it.”

  “You’ll stay here?” Her big brown eyes look unsure.

  “Of course.” As if I would be anywhere else.

  Juliet turns to Pooja, and they stare at each other, speaking without words. They embrace, then Juliet leaves to make her statement.

  I walk Pooja and Rocco to the parking lot and return inside to wait for Juliet. The station quiets as I sit in a daze, waiting. Rob stays at the station with me but doesn’t hover, which I appreciate.

  When Juliet rejoins me in the waiting area, she asks me to take her home. I can’t wait to get her out of there, to get her away from what’s happened. Rob leaves to bring the car around, and as Juliet and I walk toward the exit, she freezes and points to the doors. An older couple walks through.

  “My parents,” she says. I see a piece of Juliet in each of their concerned faces. She has her father’s eyes and her mother’s chin.

  “Juliet, honey, are you okay?” her father asks, rushing toward us. He reaches for her, his hands trembling. He pulls her into a hug.

  While her father holds her, Juliet reaches behind herself with one hand and squeezes mine. Tears roll down her mother’s cheeks as she reaches out to touch Juliet’s shoulder. “I’m fine,” Juliet answers through her own tears.

  “We were so worried about you. Ben’s parents came with us, too. They’re at the hospital. My God, this is so awful.” Juliet’s mother holds her hand to her chest, her eyes dart around the station.

  Juliet pulls back from her father and turns to me. “This is Chase.” Juliet’s dad shakes my hand and her mom nods at me, but it’s obvious they only want to be with Juliet.

  I move away from them and sit on the bench. I can’t hear their words, but I know Juliet’s body language well enough to know she’s uncomfortable. I stand to rescue her, then sit back down. She seems to have the situation under control.

  I can’t figure out if she’ll be staying with them or coming home with me. I try to see her colors, but I can’t. I guess it doesn’t work that way, on demand. I call Rob, who’s waiting in the parking lot, to tell him we’ve been delayed.

  Soon, Juliet walks back to me as her parents leave through the station doors. “What’s wrong?” I ask. “Where are they going?”

  “They want me to go home. To Pennsylvania. They said Ben’s going back after his surgery to recover, too.”

  “Oh.” I don’t want Juliet to go anywhere except to the city with me. I hold my breath and start to panic, fearing the strength of her connection to Ben. “Juliet…” I say, ready to beg her to stay.

  She looks at the ground and says, “I told them no.”

  I exhale. “Thank you.” I stand and squeeze her tightly, wanting to glue her to my side. “I know you’re worried about Ben. Thank you for not going.”

  “You don’t have to thank me,” she says. “I love you.” It’s our line from the night before. “I want to be here for you, especially tomorrow.”

  She remembered my grandmother’s funeral. I’d almost forgotten, but she remembered. I kiss the top of her head. “Thank you,” I say again. “I wish I could erase today.”

  “Me, too. Can I stay with you?”

  “Of course.” I don’t plan on letting her out of my sight.

  Juliet

  I wake on Chase’s couch feeling happy. For a few moments, I forget today is the day of his grandmother’s funeral and the day after the shooting that killed Frank. I wish I could bottle those few seconds of peace as I open my eyes to the beautiful colors of Chase’s painting hanging over the mantle.

  And then I remember.

  I hear the shower running. He’d put a pillow under my head and a blanket around me, and he’d left the light on. I sit up on the couch and try to pull myself together for Chase. Maybe I can pretend yesterday never happened.

  The water stops. I walk to the bathroom and push the door open. The hot steam surrounds me as I watch Chase wrap a towel around his waist, his back to me, a perfect V as he stands in the shower.

  He flinches when I touch him. I trail my fingers over his back, down his spine, enjoying the moisture on his warm skin. Yesterday never happened, I say to myself again as Chase turns around.

  He doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes search my face. He places his palm on my cheek and says, “Have I told you I can see your colors?”

  He had. When he was inside of me just a few nights ago—the night that feels like a million years ago—Chase had whispered that he saw my colors everywhere. “What do you see now?” I ask.

  Chase shrugs. “I see that you’re beautiful. Everytime. All the time.” He moves his hand down my cheek and over my neck. I close my eyes.

  Yesterday never happened. When I open them, Chase’s face is blurry from my tears. “Yesterday never happened.”

  He wraps me in his arms, my cheek against his bare chest. “Do you think we’re strong enough?” He seems uncertain. I can’t find words so I nod against his chest. “No matter what, I love you,” he says, as he runs his hands down my hair.

  “I love you, too.” I look up to his face and find his lips, kissing the corner of his mouth.

  I want to scream with everything in me. I want to scream for Frank, for Ben, for Pooja. I want to scream at myself, my parents, and for no reason whatsoever, I want to scream at Chase. I pray that Cameron didn’t make it through surgery. If he’s still alive, I want to kill him. Like, actually kill him for what he did to Frank, Ben…all of us.

  “Rob found out that Cameron made it through the night. He’s out of critical care. Officers took him into custody, but he’ll stay at the hospital until he’s well enough to be moved.”

  I let the tears fall, and Chase wipes them away. “I hate him, Chase.”

  “Can you tell me what happened yesterday?” Chase asks in a whisper.

  I shake my head. “Not now. Today’s a day to honor Gloria.” My voice shakes. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to tell Chase.

  Chase

  Pooja bring
s Juliet a dress, and Rocco drives the four of us to the funeral home. Juliet and I sit in the backseat quietly, grasping each other’s hands. I wish this wasn’t all happening at once. Juliet and I are just getting started, and already we have to deal with life—Gram, the shooting, Frank, Ben.

  About a hundred old women from Gram’s senior center show up at the funeral home to say goodbye and offer their condolences. Each one tells me how much my grandmother loved me. Since Gram had run the senior center, she was known throughout the community. The funeral home is packed; the line runs out the door. The city councilman for our district shows up, the Chief of Police, and an army of decorated officers.

  Juliet stays nearby, lost in her own thoughts but trailing me with her eyes. Rob is always within my sight, too. The seniors don’t recognize him like they recognized me, except the ones who mistake him for me or my dad. Everyone’s attempts to make me feel better about Gram and the Sheridan shooting only make me feel worse.

  I don’t expect anyone else from Sheridan to show up, considering what went down at the dorm yesterday. Juliet’s parents come though. Unlike the others attending the funeral, who manage to celebrate my grandmother’s life, they’re a wreck. “They hate funerals,” Juliet explains as they move to the back of the room.

  “I understand.” Juliet’s eyes glaze over, and I can tell she’s somewhere else. I bend down and kiss her nose. “I’m sorry to put you through this,” I whisper. I wrap my arms around her, and she rests her head on my chest. I don’t know how I ever lived without her.

  We hold each other until Sara and Helen approach. Immediately, Juliet’s colors change. She squeezes my hand. “I’m okay,” I assure her. “Go be with your parents.”

  She tilts her head as if she’s unsure, but then kisses me on the cheek and turns away.

  Helen hugs me and tells me she’ll help me in any way she can. I thank her and she walks away, but Sara reaches for my hands. “I’m sorry about Gloria.” She stands on tiptoe to embrace me. “And your friend from school. He seemed like a great guy.”

  I forgot Sara met Frank on our first Sunday dinner when he made his self-proclaimed world famous chili. “He was. Thank you.”

  “Can I talk to you outside for a minute?”

  I don’t have the energy to argue, and I don’t want to make a scene. Juliet catches my eye, and I shrug. I pull my coat off a rack near the door.

  Once outside, Sara weaves between cars before suddenly stopping and turning to me.

  “Here.” She digs in her pocket and pulls out a prescription bottle.

  In about three seconds, I have a hundred different thoughts. Admittedly, my first thought is one of thanks. Thank God I can take something to numb this terrible sadness. Then dread. Taking even one of those may be lethal to me. Then guilt. Gram. Juliet. New Chase.

  She waves the bottle at me despite my hesitation. “It’s just a couple of really weak anti-anxiety pills my therapist gave me. Nothing to get crazy about.”

  She holds the orange bottle between us. Unbelievable. “I’m at my grandmother’s funeral for Christ’s sake. You’re pushing drugs on me? We’re both on probation, and there are about twenty cops inside.”

  Sara drops her hand and shakes her head. “I’m just trying to help. I know you. I know what you need. Whenever the going gets tough, you do two things. You get high, and then you come find me. It’s just a matter of time.”

  She’s right—that had been my pattern. But it doesn’t mean I can’t change. I have New Chase waiting in the wings to be set free. I don’t have to be Old Chase anymore. “Why are you encouraging me to be like that?”

  Sara waves her hands toward the funeral home. “Because you’re relying on her, but she’s not going to stick around, Coop. You think you don’t deserve her, but really, she doesn’t deserve you. She’s going to drop you the second you do something to piss her off.”

  “This is about Juliet?” I shake my head. “You’re giving me pills because you’re jealous? Do you know how fucked up that is?” She crosses her arms over her chest and sticks out her chin, but she doesn’t deny it. “Juliet would never hurt me, Sara. You’ve done nothing but hurt me.”

  “It must be nice up there on your high horse.” Sara juts out a hip and waves an arm around. “I’m going to let that slide because you’re upset about your friend and your grandmother.” Then she does the worst thing she could possibly do to a recovering addict.

  She puts the prescription bottle in my coat pocket and walks away.

  Juliet

  “Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. You were coming home anyway,” my parents whisper in the funeral home.

  Being in Evander with my parents is the last place on Earth I want to be. “Everything’s changed. I can’t leave—not after what happened. Frank…Chase…he just lost his grandmother. The police investigation is ongoing. Can’t you understand that I need to be here?” While that’s all true, even if life were perfect I wouldn’t want to go to Evander with them.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Sara storming back into the room. Her gaze pierces mine. Whatever Chase said to her outside obviously pissed her off, and her anger seems directed at me. “Will you excuse me for a minute?” I ask my parents, holding Sara’s gaze.

  I don’t wait for my parents’ response. I walk toward Sara. All that screaming I wanted to do, all the frustration and pain that wanted to come out, now has a target.

  I follow her into the ladies’ room. “Do you have a problem with me?” I ask, looking down at her.

  “Isn’t Ben your boyfriend?” Sara asks when we’re inside. “He just got shot. Why don’t you go be with him and leave Chase alone?”

  “Who my boyfriend is and where I choose to be isn’t your concern. Neither is Chase.”

  She holds up a hand. “Don’t you dare try to push me out of his life. Chase and I have almost twenty years of history. Show some respect.”

  Show some respect? I loom over her, raging. “I’ve heard about your history, and it’s nothing that deserves my respect. If you ever cared about him, you’d let him go. He needs to be with people who love him.”

  Her tone matches mine and we shoot daggers back and forth with our eyes and our words. “He needs to be with people who know him. The best thing you can do for him—for yourself—is go take care of your boyfriend in Pennsylvania. Coop’s going to come to me soon. It always happens. He crashes, then he finds me.”

  I hold my tongue, jealous that Chase has a connection with this girl. At the same time, she sounds like me when I’m defending Ben, and on some level, I get it. “He’s not like that anymore.”

  She scoffs and I want to smack her. “Right, because people change overnight. Just because you want them to.”

  It’s happened. I’ve reached my limit. I point at her chest and speak slowly. “You leave Chase and me alone.”

  It doesn’t work. The little waif is strong-willed. “Go home, Juliet.”

  As much as I hate to admit it, Sara isn’t entirely wrong. I don’t know Chase, really, at all. He has a history with Sara and New York. Sara knows all of the hard lessons that I don’t. What if he’s only showing me one side? I march out of the bathroom and back to where everyone has congregated.

  The crowd has built up, and I can’t find Chase. I talk with Pooja and Rocco as I scan the room and make small talk. Sara passes by, glaring, but I’m too tired to engage again. I want to make it through this day, through this night.

  Some time later, I see Chase dart across the room with his friend Paul on his heels.

  I excuse myself and catch up with him at Gloria’s coffin. His eyes glaze over as he looks over the coffin.

  “Hi, Paul,” I say, and turn to Chase. “You okay?”

  Chase’s eyes won’t focus, reminding me of our first night in Sheridan when he got high with Darcy. “I’m good.” His voice cracks.

  I look at Paul, and he shrugs. “I found him like this in the men’s room.”

  “Chase, what’s going on?” I ask, as Paul disappea
rs into the crowd.

  “Nothing.”

  I raise my eyebrows at him.

  Chase whispers, “I took a pill. Just to take the edge off. I have to get through this day so I can be with you. I know you need me.”

  With his words, a piece of my heart breaks. This is bad. Sara is bad. He’s sinking, falling away from me. I see it in his eyes. I sigh, fighting back tears. “No, Chase. I don’t need you like this. I don’t need you incoherent.”

  Chase looks down at me and furrows his brow. “I just don’t want to feel sad.”

  It breaks my heart, but Sara is right. She knows him better than I do. In a perfect world, I’d give Chase a pep talk. I’d lead him down another path to get through this day. Today, though, it isn’t a perfect world, and I don’t have it in me, not after what happened yesterday, not knowing that I have another funeral to attend for the sweet, red-headed boy who made me laugh when I wanted to cry. The same, sweet boy who saved my life less than twenty-four hours ago. Instinctively, I think of my usual source of strength—Ben—and glance at my parents on the other side of the room. Maybe I should go with them.

  Sara beelines for us through the crowd. I grab Chase’s hand and lead him away toward Rob. Maybe Rob can help put Chase back together.

  “What’s up?” Rob asks when we approach, studying Chase.

  “Chase took some pills,” I say.

  “Pills? What kind of pills? We don’t keep that stuff in the house.”

  “I’m right here, you know,” Chase says. “You can ask me.”

  I ignore him and shake my head at Rob. “If I had to guess…” I nod toward the little witch, “his friend may have provided them.”

  Chase jerks out of my grasp. “It’s not a big deal. I’m fine. I can do this.”

  “You’re not supposed to take pills, Chase,” Rob says, and I feel like I’m learning one of those hard lessons that Sara knows all about. Chase has a problem with pills.

  Chase pulls away, angry. “Just because my grandmother died doesn’t mean you get to be my boss,” he says to Rob. Then he turns to me. “And I’m not Ben, Jules.”