The Wonder of You (A Different Kind of Wonderland Book 1)

by Harper Kincaid

  In fact, everyone thought she had been through the worst of it. She seemed happy, making plans to teach dance to little girls in a studio on the Upper East Side.

  So, imagine their surprise when one day she went to the top of her parents’ building and jumped out the window.

  No warning.

  No note.

  They couldn’t even use dental records to identify her, the damage was so bad.

  She was twenty-four years old.

  The family went on a crusade, blaming him for her instability, saying she had been a happy person until they got together. But her former classmates and teachers and other relatives were quoted saying that Chloe had always been emotionally fragile.

  Dare hadn’t been seen in the press until the photo of us came to light.

  Bet those morons got a good price for it, too.

  They ran two small photos under the fold line, one of Chloe by herself and another with the two of them, walking arm-in-arm, in Central Park.

  She had long, brown hair and big eyes, with one of those tiny, dancer bodies. She was beautiful, but delicate, like you could break her in half. In the photo, she was looking up at him, as if he was her whole world.

  I’d seen enough. I folded the paper back up and stuck it in my bag, and left a note for Ms. Joan.

  I took out a compact and cleaned myself up as best I could. My eyes were bloodshot and the tip of my nose was bright red. I was a mess, but I didn’t really care.

  I left the office and walked across campus to hop on the subway. Thank goodness, I didn’t bump into anyone. Then, I recalled all the gossip I heard earlier that morning.

  “Who’s going to tell her?”

  “Her advisor should do it, not another student.”

  “If it were me, I would die of embarrassment.”

  “Why? She’s done nothing wrong. She’s expressing her sexuality without worrying about the male gaze.”

  “True, but who’s going to take her seriously in academia after that?”

  They were talking about me the whole time and I was too dumb to know it.

  I am a rube, a moron, a country-bumpkin simpleton.

  Dear Lord, I was over five hundred miles away from home and I was still being called a whore. Only this time, I couldn’t blame my mama. This was all on me.

  “Alice?” I heard behind me.

  I knew that voice. Just this morning, that voice both stirred and soothed me.

  I turned around.

  Still as beautiful, probably even more famous.

  “Jesus, Dixie, are you okay?”

  There will be a hearing next week.

  I may be kicked out of school.

  “No, Dare, I’m not okay. I don’t know if anything’s going to be okay again.”

  “It either brings tears to their eyes, or else . . .”

  “Or else what?” said Alice, for the Knight had made a sudden pause.

  “Or else it doesn’t, you know.”

  ―Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

  Dare

  I shouldn’t have waited so long to tell her about Chloe. All I wanted was a little more time in the bubble. I should’ve also made precautions to protect our privacy, but I let myself get caught up in the moment. Man, that was really stupid.

  Her hand was still out, like a human stop sign, so I raised both of mine in surrender. “I get it. You’re pissed and embarrassed, but I swear on my life, I had nothing to do with that photo and, as soon as I find out who those punks are, I’m going to take care of everything.”

  Her eyes were glassy and red-rimmed. She shook her head, arms folded in front of her like a shield. “I never thought for one second you were behind that photo, Dare, and the damage is already done.”

  I wanted to hold her in the worst way.

  “I know you’re a private person. I should have been more careful, to protect you.”

  A cold wind blew, making her teeth rattle. She had on a thin jacket, the kind that probably kept someone warm in North Carolina, but wouldn’t cut it here. I took off my jacket as I went to her, putting it around her shoulders.

  “That’s very gentlemanly of you. Thank you,” she said.

  “Anytime,” I said. I’d give you anything. All you have to do is ask.

  Her shivering stopped and she gave a small smile. “I’m sorry about what happened to Chloe. I read about it in the paper.”

  I sucked in the cold air. “I should have told you about it sooner.”

  “I don’t blame you for not wanting to relive it, why you delayed

  talking about it.”

  Damn it, she really is perfect for me.

  “I loved her. I was crazy about her,” I said, my hands in my pockets as I stared off. “In the beginning, I got off on her needing me so much. I thought of myself as her protector. Man, I was so stupid and full of myself . . .”

  “Dare, you couldn’t have known,” she said, taking a small step towards me.

  I shook my head. “No, I couldn’t have. God knows her parents were in deep denial. But when I came home late from a show and I found her surrounded by shards of glass, her cutting herself . . . I insisted she be hospitalized. She went and got better. She went on meds. But then, she’d either go off them or they’d stop working.”

  “What did she have?” she asked.

  “Bipolar II, Borderline Personality Disorder . . . those were the major hitters.”

  She didn’t know what to say. No one ever did.

  “I hated how she died,” I said, looking at the ground, “But I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I was relieved to not have to ride that rollercoaster anymore. And I feel like a piece of shit for admitting that out loud, but that’s the truth.

  “I know it’s not on me how she died, but I still blame myself for letting my ego think I could’ve fixed her in the first place.”

  She stared at me, something working behind her eyes.

  “I thought I could give Chad a soul,” she said, shaking her head. “He showed me his softer side, something not really allowed in his household. It was survival of the fittest over there. I thought I could save him from all that. Turned out he didn’t want to be saved after all.”

  Something passed between us.

  Alice understood. She got me in a way no one did.

  And that’s when I realized, I loved this woman. It hadn’t been long, but I didn’t give a fuck.

  I didn’t feel a lick of the cold. My blood was racing too fast through my veins. I felt like I was on fire.

  “I may get kicked out of school,” she said, her voice soft and defeated.

  The fire inside turned to ice. “You’re shitting me.”

  She shook her head, examining her boots. Anything, probably, not to look at me.

  “I was feeling so good this morning, too,” she went on. “Like I was finally finding my way, being an integrated, sexual being.”

  I grasped the front of my jacket around her, pulling her close. “Don’t let one photo take that away from you.”

  But it was like she didn’t hear me.

  “No matter what I do, I’m always going to be walking around with a scarlett letter on my chest,” she said. “I don’t know what I’ll do if they kick me out.”

  “I’ll hire an attorney,” I said, hoping like hell she’d get that she was not alone in this. “Let me help you, Dixie.”

  She looked up, finally meeting my eyes. She appeared so lost and angry at the same time. Alice shrugged off my jacket and handed it off, like it was something dirty.

  “Thanks for the offer,” she said, looking uncomfortable. “I know you mean well, but this is why I didn’t want to get involved in the first place.”

  My head reared back, like I had been slapped.

  I just got her and I’m already losing her.

  “So, what are you saying? You regret being with me?” I asked.

  “No, it’s just, I can’t afford anything to distract me from what I came here to do,” she said, letting out a sigh.
“If you weren’t so well known, maybe things could be different, but I can’t spend my life looking over my shoulder, paranoid that every move we make may end up in a gossip rag.”

  I grimaced. “Well, I can’t promise nothing like that will happen in the future. Shit happens, Alice. If you start walling yourself off from life, at twenty-five, your world’s going to get narrow real fast.”

  She hoisted her backpack onto her shoulder. “I’m sorry. I just can’t is all . . . bye, City.”

  Then, she got as far away from me as possible. I watched her walk away, getting smaller and smaller.

  It was almost dark and the temperature had dropped. I put my jacket back on and cursed under my breath because it already smelled like her.

  I started walking home, even as the ground crumbled beneath my feet. As what she said sunk in, my limbs and lungs turned to ice and ash.

  She had brought me back to life. And I returned the favor by killing her career before it started.

  Maybe Chloe’s parents had been right all along. I was nothing but misery and pain.

  “It sounded an excellent plan, no doubt, and very simply and neatly arranged; the only difficulty was, that she had not the smallest idea how to set about it.”

  ―Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland.

  Alice

  “You’ve been here less than two months and already you made Page Six. Girl, that’s hella impressive.”

  “Right Rayna, because that’s every little girl’s dream. I’ll make sure my sister adds it to her CV of accomplishments.”

  Yeah, you could say my sister was madder than a wet cat.

  I had texted all my girls on the way home, calling for an emergency tea party, which was code for when one of us had been knocked into next week by something bad happening.

  “Please, it’s not like she made a porno,” Rayna bit back. “She’s not even nude in the shot. Trust me, the hearing is just a formality.”

  Lulu hunched her shoulders. “I don’t know. Academia is notoriously rigid and insular, even if Alice is studying human sexuality.”

  The others gave her death stares.

  “Or, uh . . . maybe that’s just how it was in my department,” Lulu backtracked. “I’m sorry. I really am trying to help.”

  “You’re fine, Lulu,” I said, holding out my glass. “That wine should just say ‘drink me bitches’ because that what I’m doing all night.”

  Rayna poured my glass to the brim.

  Caroline eyed me.

  “What?” I said, feeling like I was shrinking right in front of everyone.

  “I just think you should be preparing for your hearing, instead of drinking with us and making yourself feel better,” my sister said.

  “Wow, that’s harsh,” Lulu muttered.

  Rayna’s eyes rounded. “Joder, your sister doesn’t play.”

  “What the hell, Ro?” I said, using a very old nickname for her.

  Her expression softened, her hand covering mine. “You’ve just worked so hard. I don’t want anything to get in your way.”

  I patted her hand. “You’ve got nothing to worry about,” I said, taking a healthy sip. “I’m meeting with my advisor tomorrow to go over my statement. And I kind of broke it off with Dare.”

  My sister’s face paled. “You did what?”

  “Why would you do that?” Lulu asked.

  “Did he give you a hard time? Blame you for the photo?” Rayna asked, looking ready to shiv something in the neck.

  “No, of course not,” I reassured them. “He found me on campus today, just to make sure I was okay.” Now that I thought about it, that was mighty sweet of him.

  “So, you’re punishing him, for something out of his control?” Caroline asked, her lips pressing into a thin line.

  I put my wine glass down. “The whole point of coming to New York was to make a life I created. Here, I’m not the daughter of the town trollop or the country bumpkin girlfriend of Carolina’s favorite son. I’m just Alice, someone who rises and falls based on my actions, on my own merits. I’m not here the equivalent of a New York minute and I’m already going to be labeled Dare Grangeworth’s Page Six girl. I may get kicked out of school over this. Sorry, but I don’t need this kind of hassle.”

  They all just stared at me, giving each other knowing eyes in between.

  “Listen, please just help me get through the hearing, okay? I can’t think about anything until then, least of all, Dare Grangeworth.”

  Caroline put her hand out. “We’ve got your back, sister.”

  Rayna joined her hand with Caroline’s. “Absolutely. That committee won’t know what hit them.”

  “Worse comes to worse, I can build you a bomb or the perfect computer virus to infect their server,” Lulu added.

  I had started putting my hand in, but stopped. “Uh, maybe you can hold off on utilizing the weapons of mass destruction in your personal arsenal?”

  Caroline muttered. “She really is a hairsbreadth away from becoming a supervillain, isn’t she?”

  Lulu rolled her eyes. “No fun. No fun at all.”

  “Did you just sass me, Lulu Lemon?”

  “I believe I did,” she said, a self-satisfied smile peeking through.

  I put my hand in with the others. “If Lulu can deliver sass and sarcasm, then anything is possible. Let’s do this thing.”

  Alice: “How long is forever?”

  White Rabbit: “Sometimes just one second.”

  ―Lewis Carroll, Alice in Wonderland

  Dare

  “Stop doing that,” I told her, slapping her hand out of her mouth.

  She was biting her nails.

  “I can’t help it,” she said. “I do this when I’m nervous.”

  “If you don’t cut it out, I’m going to hold your arms down. You know what that means.”

  Ingrid’s whole face contorted. It wasn’t that she thought I smelled, per se, but she wasn’t a fan of anything masculine. She said that even when men were freshly showered, she could still smell what she called our ‘man-stink’ which was a combination of testosterone and cortisol.

  I should mention that to Alice. She’d get a kick out of it.

  Then I remembered, she broke up with me. We were done.

  Alice wasn’t mine anymore.

  Yeah, I was feeling a little sorry for myself.

  Then I felt a slap on the side of my head.

  “Jesus ‘grid! What’s your problem?”

  “Snap out of it,” Ingrid said. “I know you miss her. And I miss you being . . . happy.”

  I rubbed my head for a couple of seconds, but took the hint.

  “This is your night,” I told her. “And you’re right. I am here for you,” I took her hand in mine. “So, you’re going to have to deal with my man-stink for a little while because: one, I need to prevent you from eating your whole hand and, two, I want you to lead me through this crowd and show me where your work is before I get lost.”

  We were at her group show, Thirty Artists Under Thirty, and the place was packed. I had taken Ingrid out shopping for a new outfit and made her get a haircut. The results were stunning. Her electric blue hair was in a smart pixie cut and she wore a metallic red jumpsuit with matching red lipstick.

  The press was going crazy for her look and her work. I felt like a proud papa.

  Eventually, I noticed her nerves had calmed, and I let go of her hand and stepped back, so she could do her thing all on her own. Once I did, I saw all three of her paintings had been sold, each with their own little red dot.

  I couldn’t keep the smile off my face.

  She did it. She’s on her way.

  I took a few photos of her as she was talking with the art critic of The New York Times. They were chatting like old friends.

  “It wasn’t that long ago you were standing there, just like she is now.”

  I knew that voice.

  I turned around.

  “Wow, I didn’t expect to see you here,” I said, taking her in
.

  “That’s the kind of greeting I get?” she balked. “What’s the phrase your mother taught me? ‘Come in for the real thing.’”

  I bent down and gave her a tight hug. It had been too long.

  She broke away, but held both my hands in hers, giving them a squeeze.

  “Where is your mother, by the way?” she asked.

  “She’s in Italy, taking cooking lessons and drinking wine without her son telling her to take it easy.”

  She smiled. “Well, good for her. She deserves it. But I have to say . . . you look like complete and utter shit.”

  I busted out laughing. “Thanks, Mrs. Grangeworth. Way to kick a man when he’s down.”

  She threw her hands up, followed by a little shimmy. “It’s the one advantage to being old. I can say and do whatever I want.”

  “Please, you’ve been this way for years. It’s not age, it’s moxie.”

  She winked while shooting a finger gun at me. “Right you are,” she said.

  A flash blinded my eyes. The press had descended and were taking photos.

  Then came the questions.

  “Are you here with your elevator hook-up?”

  “Is it over?”

  “Who is she anyway?”

  I was ready to lose it, but Mrs. Grangeworth patted my lapel with her hand.

  “I’ve got this,” she muttered under her breath.

  “My stepson Dare, was kind enough to be my companion for this epic art event. I am sure he will reveal the identity and status of his relationship with the young lady when the time is right. But for now, don’t spoil an old woman’s fun. Back off and bother Iris Apfel over there. She actually thinks she’s Tweetie Bird in that yellow feather disaster.”

  They scattered, just like that.

  “You haven’t lost your touch,” I said.

  “You better believe it,” she said, her gaze scanning my face. “Walk me outside. My driver should be arriving any minute.”

  I offered her my arm, which she took.

  “Did I ever tell you how I met your father?”

  That was out of left field, but fine, I’d bite.

  “Nope, I missed that bedtime story.”

  She let out a throaty laugh. “Don’t be cute. My heart can’t take it,” she said. “Anyway, he was vacationing with his family in Cape Cod, where I was working for the summer. He said he knew right away he was going to marry me. I worked at a hot dog stand, by the way. He must have bought over fifty of those awful things before I agreed to go out with him.”