She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1)

by Jessica Calla

  I recoil at his words and hold up my hands. “Whoa. Where’s that coming from?”

  “I’m not perfect. I’m never going to be. I told you from the beginning that I wasn’t safe. I do stupid shit all the time.”

  “What are you talking about? Don’t you put this on me, Chase. This has nothing to do with Ben—”

  “I can feel you just dying to get back to Ben, the hero who took a bullet for you.” He’s not entirely mistaken. I do feel a little lost without Ben, but not for the reasons Chase must be thinking. “No matter what, you’re always going to put him first.”

  I speak through gritted teeth and poke Chase in the chest. “If he’s first, it’s because you put him there. I’m here with you.” I hold his stare. “Yesterday wasn’t about heroes. Frank died and Ben got shot so I could live—so I could get back to you. I’m grateful you weren’t there.”

  “I would rather have been there than to have to know Ben saved your life…again,” Chase slurs quietly. “Maybe that makes me a stupid prick. I dunno.”

  Rob leans close to Chase and tries to calm him as Pooja appears in the hallway. “What’s going on?” she asks.

  Rob looks Chase in the eye. “Why don’t I get you out of here? You’re not thinking straight, and you’re about to do something really stupid.”

  “I’m not leaving,” Chase says to Rob. “It’s my grandmother’s fucking funeral.” He steps past Rob to me. “The shooting will be another reason for you to love him, for you to be connected to him.”

  “Chase!” Pooja’s voice is strong, but she touches his shoulder gently. “Horrible things happened in that room. Don’t make this about you and your jealousy.”

  Chase ignores her and keeps his eyes on mine. “You never broke up with him, did you?”

  I shake my head. Is he kidding? “I was busy with a fucking psycho killer, Chase. I didn’t get a chance.”

  “Maybe you should go to Evander, Juliet. Go be with your family. And your boyfriend.” Chase walks away from me, back into the main room, leaving Rob, Pooja, and me staring after him. I feel my stomach turn as he walks toward Sara. Maybe the hard lessons are too hard for me. Maybe I don’t belong with Chase. Maybe Chase is right—I should go home.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chase

  I wake up to the familiar smells of Thanksgiving morning and figure Gram woke at five to put the turkey in like she does every year. Then I remember that Gram isn’t making the turkey. I also realize I’m alone in bed.

  I check my phone. There’s a text from Juliet.

  My parents got me a new phone. Same number.

  Juliet? Where the hell is she? I check the living room to see if she slept on the couch. She’s not there, so I follow the smell of coffee into the kitchen. Rob is bent over the oven in his sweats and oven mitts, basting a turkey. He has a recipe book set up on the counter flipped to the “How to Cook a Turkey” page.

  “It’s not rocket surgery,” I joke, pointing to the book.

  Rob scowls. Clearly, he isn’t in the mood for jokes. “Never done it before.” He pulls off the oven mitts and hands me a cup of coffee without looking at me.

  “Thanks.” I wait for him to say something. The silence is deafening. “I don’t know what happened yesterday, but I’m sorry.”

  “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to.”

  Shit. “Um, where’s Juliet? She’s out early.”

  I take a sip of my coffee and feel instantly better. Rob shakes his head and scoffs.

  “What?” I ask.

  “You don’t remember?”

  “Remember what?”

  “Where’d you get the pills, Chase? Gloria told me that you were clean, and I made sure there was nothing in the house.”

  “Pills?” I’m stalling, unclear as to if I’m trying to pull one over on him, or if I’m scared of what he’s going to say or do.

  “Don’t lie on top of everything.” He slams his empty coffee mug into the sink. “I thought we’ve been pretty good at being honest with each other.” He crosses his arms over his chest and leans against the counter.

  “I went to the men’s room. I had some pills…I took, I don’t know…two…but they were just Xanax or something. Nothing crazy, I swear.”

  “A, you’re not supposed to be taking anything, and B, I don’t think it was Xanax you took. Who gave them to you?”

  I’m not in the mood for an interrogation. “Where’s Juliet?”

  “She’s in Pennsylvania.”

  I spit out my coffee. “What? Why?” I run back to my room and find my phone. My breath catches and I start to panic. What did I do? I check my texts as I rush back to the kitchen.

  “You told her to go back,” Rob says.

  “No, no, no,” I repeat as I pace. “I wouldn’t do that.” New Chase wouldn’t do that. Old Chase, definitely.

  “You did. In the hallway of the funeral home.” I rack my brain trying to recall the scene. Sara. The parking lot. Rob continues, “You said she would never be able to leave Ben. You turned what happened to her with the shooting into your own personal tragedy. It wasn’t pretty. Luckily, we stopped you short of shaming your grandmother’s memory in front of everyone who loved her.”

  I put my hand to my mouth and shake my head. “No. Oh, fuck. Sara must have given me something stronger…son of a bitch!”

  The memories emerge—Pooja’s hand on my shoulder, Juliet glaring at Sara. “Juliet just left? Couldn’t she tell I was out of it?”

  “After you told her to go, she talked to Pooja for awhile then left with her parents.”

  “Why didn’t you stop her, Rob? Did anyone try to stop her? I have to call her. I have to straighten this out.” How could I have said those things to Juliet? My sweet Juliet who stayed to support me the day after seeing our friend murdered? No, I repeat to myself. I couldn’t have. I slap my fist into my forehead, pacing as I tap her number.

  I count four rings and panic that she’ll decline the call. She finally picks up. “Chase.” Her voice is flat and emotionless.

  “Juliet? Sweetheart, I’m so, so sorry for yesterday. I don’t know what I was thinking. Rob told me what happened…about what I said.”

  “I’m sorry, too.”

  “Can you come back to the city? I’ll come get you?” She doesn’t respond. “Please, Juliet, I was so stupid yesterday.” I wait, saying a silent prayer that she’ll say she forgives me and asks me to come.

  “You know, Sara cornered me and told me this would happen. I defended you. Told her you weren’t like that anymore.”

  “She gave me the pills, Juliet. She told me they were mild anti-anxiety meds.” I’m so desperate that I have no problem throwing Sara under the bus.

  “I’m sure, but this is on you, not her, Chase. Did she force the pills down your throat, too? Did she force you to believe a lie about Ben and what happened in that room?” I don’t know what I’d said about Ben or the shooting. Fuck. “The worst part about yesterday was that you proved her right. Everything she said…I thought it was crazy talk, but you proved her right.”

  “I will never, ever, let this happen again,” I say. “I’m so sorry. Juliet. Please. Please let’s work this out—”

  “I’m staying. I know I told you I’m strong,” she pauses, and I hear her crying. “But I need to figure this out, and I don’t think you’re ready to help me.”

  “Of course I am, baby. You don’t have to run to Ben. I’m here for you, I swear. I want to be the one you need.”

  “Yesterday proves you can’t be that person. I’m not coming back, Chase. It has nothing to do with Ben.”

  She ends the call, and my heart breaks even more.

  Juliet

  The university gives the residents of Sheridan Hall a pass on the semester. A representative shows up in Evander, first at my house, then at Ben's, and explains that we’ll be exempt from finals. Either our grades prior to finals will stand, or we'll be reimbursed the tuition for the semester and given the opportuni
ty to retake the classes we’re missing. They also offer counseling, group therapy, and alternate housing arrangements.

  Hundreds of people—friends, family, press—parade in and out of the rehab center to check on Ben as he recovers. Unfortunately, the damage is to his throwing arm, which means it’s unlikely that he’ll ever quarterback again. I blame myself for his injury. I feel so guilty and sad that I drive him to rehab everyday and spend my afternoons with him at therapy.

  In Evander, Ben was always a superhero because of his football skills and his sweet personality. Now, the whole world is meeting him and falling in love with him. He claims they are there for me, or for us, since we’re becoming a story. I think they want him though—who wouldn’t? He’s charming and attractive. I don’t mind the press, except for Robin Woodson, a second-rate Philly reporter with giant boobs and a crush on Ben.

  At one point, the local newspaper catches us holding hands and snaps a picture. They ask Ben about our relationship and how it has survived the tragedy. Ben answers, “Juliet’s always been my best friend. She’s my hero.” Really, he’s always been mine. I guess our roles are reversed now. Everything is backward all of a sudden.

  With all that’s happening, I’m not ready to have a conversation with Ben about Chase.

  Chase. He’s slipping away, and I know my time in Evander with Ben is partially the cause. I’m still pissed at him. As I watch Ben do his physical therapy, I spend a huge chunk of time convincing myself I hadn’t just dreamed that night up—the night when everything was sadly perfect, the night before it all fell apart. When Chase told me he would fight for me, I assumed he was being truthful. Maybe Chase doesn't have any fight left. Maybe I don’t have any fight left either.

  Ben picks up on my changed feelings. “Jules,” he says one afternoon at rehab as he lifts a free weight with his bad arm. “We’ve talked to everyone from Sheridan since we've been here, except Chase. Have you talked to him?"

  “Not since Thanksgiving.”

  Ben puts down the weight and grabs my hand. “That day, the day Frank died, you were going to tell me something. Was it about you and Chase?”

  “I love you, Ben. I always have,” I answer truthfully.

  He raises his eyebrows and sighs. “But…”

  And with that one word, I know he knows.

  I stutter. “I…I can’t talk about this now. Things have changed.”

  Ben looks down at my hands. “You shouldn't be spending all your time here with me. You need to go back. Evander’s not right for you anymore. I’m not right for you.” I cry into his chest. In true Ben fashion, he wraps me in his arms and I hide in him. “You have to go,” he says.

  “There’s nowhere to go.” He must know me well enough to realize that he can’t push me away. If I leave, I’ll have to leave on my own.

  ***

  As December starts and the rest of the world Christmas shops and plans for the holidays, Ben and I drive to the Jersey Shore for Frank’s memorial service. I expect to see Chase. I text him that I will be there, that I want to see him, and that we need to talk. I ache to see him. He doesn’t respond.

  I can’t stand being at the service. First, because of the press outside, and second because my dear friend lies in a coffin. I think about the times Frank and I hung out together. I think about the night we watched Die Hard; when he coached me with the weights, and we danced in the lounge; when we walked to the Student Center for late night coffee. I think about his beautiful face, full of color, and how he was so excited to start living his dreams.

  The only good thing that comes out of this day is that the basement crowd reunites. Everyone comes to say goodbye to Frank.

  Except Chase.

  And man, does that piss me off.

  Chase

  The incessant banging on the door downstairs wakes me. Sara stirs, rolls over, and lifts the covers over her head. I listen as Rob opens the apartment door and lumbers down the stairs.

  I hear her speak. “Where is he?”

  My heart pounds at the sound of her voice, and I’m reminded that it’s still there. I still have a heart. I come alive for the first time in weeks when I hear her climbing the stairs. “Don’t fuck with me, Rob. I'm not in the mood.”

  I jump out of bed and scramble into the hallway, closing my bedroom door behind me. Juliet sounds pissed enough. Seeing Sara will only make matters worse.

  She marches toward me in the hallway, angry and raging red. “You son of a bitch,” she says, shoving me in the chest.

  I walk past her into the living room. Rob grimaces and disappears. She follows me and I smell her perfume. Her colors swirl with rage but, holy shit is she gorgeous. Her black pants and grey turtleneck sweater seem way too conservative for the vibrant colors emanating from her. “You’re back,” I say, and rub my temples. I shut my eyes to block out her colors.

  “Frank’s memorial service?” She crosses her arms. I know she’s waiting for my excuse.

  I’d talked myself out of going to the service. I didn’t want to think about what had happened in the dorm, what had happened to Frank, and I didn’t want to see Juliet with Ben. Instead, I called Sara. “I couldn’t go to another funeral.” I hear the grogginess in my voice and cringe, thinking of how I must look—unshaven, barely awake, and totally hungover, wearing old sweats and a tee shirt.

  She walks closer, and my heart speeds up again. “You smell like a bar. Is that where you’ve been the past two weeks? Sitting in a pub? No cell reception?”

  “Something like that.” I shrug and rub the stubble on my face.

  “Frank was your friend. You were the only one who wasn’t there.” She pokes me in the chest with the wallet thing she carries her phone in.

  I focus on her gold hoop earrings. I have enough reasons to hate myself. I don’t need Juliet making it worse. “I couldn’t make it,” I say sternly to her earrings, hoping she’ll back off and stop talking about Frank. I miss him so damn much.

  “Selfish.” She shakes her head, disgusted. “Why haven't you called me, Chase?”

  Because I’m a mess and want to be numb and you make me feel too much. “Because you ran home with Ben.”

  “You told me to go!” She puts her hands on the crown of her head and tugs at her hair. Her earrings glimmer.

  She’s fooling herself if she’s going to blame this on me. “Whether you admit it or not, you chose to go.”

  She looks at me like I’m from outer space and her colors fade. “I may have gone, but you’re the one who gave up.” I scowl, but she continues, “Did you lie to me? The night we were together…the next morning you said Ben or no Ben, we'd be together. You said you loved me, Chase. Did you mean it?”

  I know I love Juliet, because nothing can hurt as much as pushing her away. “I’m tired of fighting for you. I can’t compete with Ben.” I rub my temples. The conversation makes my head hurt, but my heart hurts worse. I’m in no shape to deal with Juliet—not today, maybe not ever. Especially with Sara a few feet away.

  “There was never a competition, Chase. You won. I wasn’t lying that night.” She touches my chin and lifts my head so I’m forced to look into her warm, brown eyes. “I want to fix this. Do you?”

  Just as I’m about to reach out for her hands to tell her yes, I do want you, just when I feel love surge through my body like a tidal wave, just as I exhale and decide to beg her forgiveness, the bedroom door closes in the hallway behind us.

  I can’t see the look on Sara’s face, but when Juliet looks past me and drops her hands, I see the look on hers.

  “I guess that answers my question,” Juliet says.

  She runs down the stairs. I don’t realize I’m chasing her until I push open the door to the sidewalk and feel the cold air on my bare arms.

  “Juliet, wait!” I call after her. She’s halfway down the block already when she snaps around and charges back at me. She pushes me, and I stumble backwards.

  “Are you kidding me?” she yells. The people on the street ignore
us—typical for New York. “This is where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing?” She waves her arms toward my apartment.

  I hate that she’s so angry with me. I hate myself for being such a total dick, so I take my anger out on her. “You left,” I scream. “I didn’t know what to do!”

  “So you fuck your ex? What’s wrong with you?”

  I reach for her, but she jerks away. “We didn’t!” I say, but I’m not sure she hears me. She walks away, then turns again and marches back toward me.

  She points back to the apartment again. “Last time we were in that room, after Frank, you told me you loved me and you wanted to help me. Is this how you help? By abandoning me for someone else?” Her brown eyes turn black with rage, her colors swirl around her in a furious cloud.

  “That night was before…before…everything. You left me here, Juliet!” I pull my hair and try to stop my eyes from watering. I can’t tell if I’m angry, sad, or hungover. I only know that yelling at Juliet feels right and wrong at the same time. “You left me to go back to Evander with Ben! You knew I was out of my mind the day of the funeral. You used it as an excuse.”

  “Fuck you, Chase. You left me the minute you swallowed those pills and told me off. You selfish jerk.” Her colors change, and my heart breaks again when see her sadness. “I’m done caring about you. If you don’t care about yourself, then why should I care about you? Go do drugs with your girlfriend.”

  She tries to turn away before I see, but I do—she’s crying. I stand on the sidewalk staring after her, watching Juliet run out of my life. My knees beg me to collapse on the sidewalk but I manage to stay upright. “Fuck,” I yell to the sky.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Juliet

  After finding Chase with Sara, I drive to Rocco’s house in North Jersey. Pooja’s staying with him through part of winter break, and she offers to let me stay the night. “We need to talk,” she says. I guess she’s right, but the real reason I want to stay is because Rocco offered to take me to Frank’s grave. I missed the funeral portion of Frank’s ceremony when I tried to talk to Chase.