by Mj Fields
“Ouch,” the same voice says, feigning insult.
I throw open the door and yell to Alex, “I’m taking the truck. Catch a ride.”
Jade jumps in as he calls back to me, “Okay, TT.”
I huff at his use of my “nickname.” TT for Tessa the Terrible.
“What’s the hurry?” Jade asks as I turn the key.
“You’re ridiculous,” I tell her, throwing it in gear then hitting the gas.
She looks out the back window. “Look at them. I think ridiculously naughty would be fun.”
“Gross,” I grumble as I watch her giving them a flirty little wave.
In the rearview mirror, I notice one of them waving back. The other, the broader one, with the kind of hair that obviously gets cut once a week, covered in the damn white hat, brim pulled low, all I can see is how square his jaw is.
“Jesus, Tessa.” Jade grabs the wheel and jerks it, straight-up saving us from driving through the blackberry bushes. “Focus.”
How embarrassing.
Entering the clearing, we see a black Pontiac Trans Am with T-tops.
“I wonder which one of the two that thing belongs to?”
“Why do you think it’s one of theirs?” I ask, knowing damn well why—it fits.
Jade looks over her shoulder as I pass it. “And vanity plates.”
“Telling,” I quip.
“L-L-I-N-K-S 1.” She giggles. “My guy is too sweet to be that showy. Yours is—”
“Oh, hell no, they aren’t Motley Crew for Lord’s sake. It’s not a you-give-me-Tommy-Lee-and-you-get-Vince-Neil kind of situation.”
“You don’t like blonds,” she defends herself.
“And you know this how?” I ask, pulling out onto Harvest Road.
“Because you said you didn’t. Remember Top Gun? You demanded Maverick because Goose was blond, and so was Alex?”
I can’t help but laugh because, indeed, that was the excuse, but the reality is I liked Maverick because he was edgy and, as Aunt Anne would say, full of piss and vigor. And, yeah, he was a bad boy.
“Even before that, you called Han Solo, and I got Luke Skywalker. Not that I’m complaining but … you set a precedent.”
I laugh again. “Indeed, I did.”
After a few seconds she smacks me. “Oh my God, you have a type.”
“I’ve never even had a boyfriend; how do I have a type?”
“Well, I guess it’s time we put my theory to the test.”
“Not a chance,” I say, hitting the gas and causing her to squeal and grab the oh-shit handle.
“What did you do this weekend? I didn’t see you once,” Jade asks, sliding in beside me on our regular, Ross family church pew.
It wasn’t the entire weekend; it was just one day that seemed a lot like a week.
“Cleaning,” I clip quietly.
“Had to get rid of the old clothes so we can do some school shopping tomorrow,” Mom says, obviously hearing me. “Jade, you’re more than welcome to come, too.”
Kendall leans forward. “You should come. Mom is taking us to the mall and said we can go to County Seat and get some Guess Jeans,” she whispers, knowing Dad has a fit at the price of the clothes there. “Lerner and Gap, too.”
“Then I’m in.”
Uncle Jack slides in beside his daughter. “You’re in for what?”
“School clothes shopping with Aunt Maggie?” She grins.
“And how much is this gonna cost me?” He sighs.
“A lot, Uncle Jack.” Kendall grins. “A whole lot. Especially if Jade wants Z Cavaricci jeans.”
“Z Cava-what?” Uncle Jack asks as the choir begins.
Chapter Two
Looking at myself in the mirror, I’m unimpressed. I don’t like how I’ve developed, nor do I like the new clothes that Jade and Kendall insisted I get. Well, maybe if they weren’t peeking under my door like they did in the changing room, coaxing me out and crooning over how “beautiful” I looked, I would like them. But the thought of wearing them to school? No way. I mean, really?
I tug at the bright colored shirt and wonder what the hell I was thinking allowing my middle school sister, who went nuts over the Jelly shoes, to give me fashion advice. Or is it that I’m using the term “fashion advice” at all?
Last year, I was shopping in the boy’s department in Hills Department store and getting Levi jeans at Homer Men and Boys, which was definitely more fun than the County Seat or Lerner. I will admit that I liked Gap, but seriously prefer the boy’s section. None of the clothes in that area showcased the “girls.”
My hair looks amazing, sun-kissed and hanging to my waist, and with the growth spurt came the waves. Mom says it’s all related to my “changing hormones.”
Gross.
“Tessa, honey, time to come down. Breakfast is getting cold, and the bus will be here soon,” Mom yells up the stairs.
“Dammit,” I grumble as I peel off the jeans and stupid shirt. A shirt that has freaking shoulder pads in it.
Like, what designer woke up one day and had a light bulb moment that involved thinking it would be awesome if everyone looked like a linebacker?
I grab a pair of khaki shorts that hit just above the knee and a light blue, baggy tee to cover up these damn boobs. Then I exchange the fancy bra for a sports bra that is too tight but holds my boobs in and do a quick once-over.
Perfect, I think as I step back.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the last family portrait we took—two years ago at Aunt Ann’s at The Cape—on my dresser, and my worries do a one-eighty. Screw the clothes. Mom is extremely emotional, and Dad is almost nonexistent. He didn’t even come in for supper the past two nights. I know worse things are going on than shoulder pads and boobs.
I run down the stairs just in time to see Kendall and Jake walking to the end of the driveway to meet the bus, Mom following them with a camera.
She yells back to us, “Alex, Tessa, get out here; I need a picture.”
“Why don’t you make them ride the smelly old bus, too?” Jake snips.
“They’re seniors, young man.” Mom smiles at him, eyes full of emotions, and not of the happy variety. “When you’re a senior, you can drive to school, too.”
“Why can’t we ride with them?” he grumbles.
“Only room for three,” Mom explains while Alex and I stand beside them. “Now, smile. The bus is heading down the hill.”
After waving them off, Jake sticks his tongue out at us from the bus window, and the three of us laugh.
When we all turn toward the house, Mom looks toward the shop, where Dad is standing, wiping his hands with a grease rag.
She swallows hard and looks back to us. “Now a picture of just you two, my seniors.”
“Gonna be late if we don’t leave to get Jade in just a minute, Mom,” Alex says softly, a look of concern in his eyes that I don’t think has a thing to do with being late.
Mom clears her throat. “Just one.”
“Of course.” Alex puts his arm around me, pulls to his side, and says, “Smile, Tessa.”
Once out of the driveway, I ask him straight-up, ready to have the conversation, one that I haven’t burdened him with in fear it would push him back inside that shell of his, but knowing he’s sensing something, too, I know we’re both ready. “What’s going on?”
“We’re going to get Jade, and then—”
“You know that’s not what I’m talking about.”
“Not one hundred percent sure, but we’ll be fine. Always are.”
The rest of the short ride, the storm that I’ve sensed brewing is now inside the cab of the old Chevy, but the clouds are not breaking … not yet, anyway.
Sitting outside Uncle Jack’s, Alex sighs loud enough to pull me from my thoughts.
“What?”
“You gonna go grab her?” he asks, sounding impatient, which is not at all typical.
“Yeah, sure.” I turn away and open the door just as Jade flies down the
porch steps.
Jade is what I would consider classically beautiful. She is older than me by a few months, having turned eighteen in May. She’s tall and developed way before I did. Her hair is long, black, and thick. It always has a perfect, smooth wavy look to it.
Uncle Jack and her mom divorced two years ago. After the accident that took the lives of Jasper and Jason, Aunt Janet got hooked on pills. Everyone knows that she cheated on Uncle Jack. Not everyone, but close family, knows it was in their bed.
Honestly, I wish I didn’t know. Even more, I wish Jade wasn’t with her father when they came home early and found her, and the piece of shit.
Janet hasn’t been the same since the accident—that’s what Mom told me—and she still isn’t. I don’t understand how Mom can possibly see her side in this. What she did to Jade and Jack, because of her grief, is selfish. They also lost them. And now they lost her, too.
She only lives a little over an hour away in Watkins, but Jade doesn’t see her. I wouldn’t either, if I were her.
After pushing the door open, I slide over in the seat as Jade, smiling from ear to ear, hoots then yells, “We’re finally seniors!”
Alex puts the truck in drive, shaking his head as he says, “Yeah, and we’ll probably be late our very first day.”
“Have a great day, baby girl,” Uncle Jack calls from somewhere inside. Then he yells, “Hold up!” running out of the door and waving her sweater in the air. “You forgot half your wardrobe.”
“Gee, thanks, Dad.” She forces a smile.
“Anytime, Jade.” Uncle Jack gives her a tight smile then shakes his head. “You all have a good last first day at Blue Valley.”
“Thanks, Uncle Jack.” I wave.
Pulling out of the driveway, Alex laughs. “He wants you to cover those things up, Jade.”
She reaches across me, smacks him, and then sits back.
With everything going on, I look at Alex, who is smiling, and can’t help but do so myself.
Five years ago, he gave up on school. Didn’t even talk for a few months. Well, only to Jade or Uncle Jack, or if forced into a conversation. He was also held back a year. Now my brother is the valedictorian of our class and, from what I hear, in the starting lineup on the field.
What he said before, on our way to Jade’s, “We’ll be fine. Always are,” I’m going to believe. Both he and Jade are proof that, no matter the storm, we Rosses can get through it.
Hopping out of the truck, in the student section of the parking lot, I realize that we are once again beside the black Trans Am.
“L-L-I-N-K-S 1.” Jade giggles then whispers, “Your man is here.”
“I’m totally going to pretend you did not just say that,” I grumble as I hoist up last year’s backpack, that Mom managed to make look almost brand new, over my shoulder and hurry toward the entry.
Looking around, I notice how full the parking lot is, and the cars look to outnumber the trucks. Nice cars, too. Too nice.
The halls are more packed, just like the parking lot. And, like the cars, the clothes on the implants definitely stand out.
I tug at my shirt as I walk past the first few lockers, and a group of girls snicker. I look up to see that some of them are pushing blue and white pom poms in their locker.
“Oh my God, look at them.” A blonde—obviously not a natural one, as she either used lemon or sprayed Sun-in and baked outside—fake-gags as Jade and I walk past them.
“You missed your roots,” I tell her.
Jade nudges me. “Oh shit, we missed cheerleading tryouts.”
“Our hair isn’t bleached out enough,” I grumble as we pass even more people.
I watch Jade turn around and walk backward. I crane my neck to see if that wretched bitch is following us and see exactly where she’s looking.
The white hat boys.
“That’s too damn bad,” she says.
“Too bad? Thank God! I wouldn’t be caught dead cheering for that bunch of boys with God complexes, in a short skirt with frilly poof balls in my hand, especially if I had to make my hair look like theirs.”
The same dark-haired boy from the pond is now smirking at Jade again. The other one … is looking me up and down, making me even more uncomfortable in my own skin than I already do … in my own damn school. It pisses me off, too. When his teeth, that are whiter than his damn hat, rakes his lower lip, my stomach flips and my face catches fire.
I think I’m going to be sick, but … I can’t look away.
His green eyes are locked on mine, mischief playing in them.
Pissed at my confusion, him … both, I ask, “What the hell are you looking at?”
Bleach-blonde huffs, “Oh, hell no, Links. Not happening.”
He rolls his insanely green eyes and turns to her. “You’re not even supposed to be here. Walk the fuck away.”
Having no desire to be involved in any of this conversation, I walk to my locker, where Jade is already unloading her backpack and hanging a mirror.
“You’re remodeling already?”
“Damn straight.” She laughs, shrugs off her sweater, and tosses it in her locker.
“You good?” Alex asks me while opening the door to his locker and hanging his backpack.
I hang my own backpack in my locker. “Perfect.”
“You sure? Because I saw a little TT coming out back there.” He shuts his locker door.
From behind me, I hear a drawn out, “Damn …”
Looking over my shoulder, I see him looking me over again. Then he gives me a slow wink as he walks past and whispers, “Nice eats.”
“That’s my sister, Links.” Alex steps like he’s going to go after him, and I step in front of him to stop him as Links opens his locker.
The other guy smiles as he looks Jade over. “Very nice.”
“Step off, boys,” Alex growls.
“Lucas.” His friend nods down the hall.
“You may want to watch it. You’re on my team now.” Lucas Links, L-L-I-N-K-S 1, owner of the black Trans Am, and apparently several white hats, slams his locker shut.
“I’ve been on theirs for over seventeen years,” Alex snaps.
“Ease up, Ross. Just enjoying the scenery.” Lucas winks at me.
I force myself to look him up and down, just like he did me. When my eyes meet his insanely green ones, I force myself to give him a disgusted look and tell him, “You have a better chance of seeing God.”
He laughs and, unfortunately, it’s a good one. Then he looks back at me and yells over his shoulder, “Challenge accepted.”
Hell. No.
Sitting in the auditorium with Jade, while waiting for the principal to do the beginning of the yearly announcements, I watch as she looks in her little compact mirror and begins fluffing her hair.
“For the love of God, do not try to look like them. Your hair is perfect.”
“Always room for improvement,” she says before applying lip gloss.
Ryan’s sister, Becca Brooks, and the newest addition to the Brooks family, sit beside me.
The Brooks family takes in foster children, which I admire. Even more so, I love that this one is a girl who looks to be our age. I recognize her shirt—a denim button-up. It was mine, my favorite. Because of my boobs, I can no longer wear it. It was in one of the many bags that Mom dropped off when we cleaned out closets.
The Brooks family are kind and accepting of everyone. Each person is made to feel like they belong and are truly a part of the family, regardless of the circumstances that brought them to their home. Mistakes are forgiven, slates wiped clean, and love is given without expectation or explanation. They’re kind of amazing.
“Tessa, Jade, this is my friend, Phoebe.” Becca pulls her schedule out of her Trapper Keeper. “Let’s compare.”
I smile. “Hey, Phoebe, welcome to Blue Valley.”
She smiles softly. “Thanks.”
“You’re lucky to be starting today. Now they’ll think you came from Stoneville H
igh.”
“Not sure that’s any better,” Phoebe says, pulling her notebooks to her chest, as if to hide behind them.
I look around and laugh, attempting to make light of what I imagine is a difficult situation. “I’m gonna have to agree with you on Stoneville.”
Jade catches on. “You just be Phoebe with the super cute Meg Ryan hair and flawless skin.”
To that, Phoebe smiles softly.
“And that smile, perfect,” Jade adds.
I redirect the conversation. “All right, let’s compare schedules.”
We quickly figure out we’re all in the same lunch and Honors classes together. Becca and Jade have P.E. and Study Hall together. Phoebe and I share the same P.E. and Government class.
“Looks like you and I will be in every class together,” I tell her. “It’ll be fun.”
She nods, sits back, and releases a breath that I imagine she’s been holding in for days.
Just then, the newbie football players sit in front of us, and as they sit down, Jade nudges me and wags her eyebrows. I roll mine at her then look away.
L-L-I-N-K-S 1, who is sitting directly in front of me—I can tell by his shoulders and the broad back that don’t belong on a high school student—turns and looks back at me.
I look away immediately.
“Tessa”—Jade kicks my foot—“he was checking you out.”
Thankfully, the auditorium starts to fall silent, and I look up at the stage.
Mr. Camp, the school principal, taps the mic then begins. “Welcome back, students. As you know, we have merged with other schools this year due to state budget cuts. I know you will welcome the new Blue Valley students with kindness. This school belongs to all of us, so let’s make sure we treat each other with respect as we all transition into our new normal.”
He then gives the typical first day speech, goes over the rules, upcoming sign-ups, games, the pep rally and, of course, the fall festival.
The entire time, I focus on Jade’s smitten look. For a moment, I allow myself to be happy for her. She deserves happiness, but she also deserves respect, and I’m not sure someone like him would give her that. Which, of course, puts me in protective mode.
