by Olivia Grey
He’d cut my allowance for a week, meaning he told me I couldn’t spend a certain amount of money, knowing that he really had no control over what expenses my credit card incurred. It wasn’t like he’d actually taken the thing and snapped it in two. He just ‘trusted’ me to obey him. I didn’t. Instead, I’d ordered a bunch of stuff online and waited for him to deliver another form of punishment. Of course, by the time the bill came in, he’d forgotten all about what the hell I’d done in the first place.
Everyone in our neighborhood thought that ‘keeping up with the Joneses’ is hard to do. My family, we are the ‘Joneses’ and thus, we have all the pressure when it comes to making sure our appearances are always on point. For a while, I was convinced that it was all an act; that eventually my parents would remove their masks and come down from their high horses. That never happened. They lived to be looked up to. It was all they had, their money, their power, their pedestal. The older I got, the more I realized that there had to be a reason why everyone was so intent on catching up to them. Power makes the world go round. And there’s only one thing stronger than power- money. But wealth, it comes at a price. One that not everyone is willing to pay. Those who have boundaries stenciled in the dunes of their lives have to find other ways to obtain that power. In order to do this, they’ve got to step onto our territory and try to shovel as much dirt as they can manage. Sometimes, it’s the most unlikely contenders that get a chunk of something fertile. And my strongest adversary just so happened to be Axel Hawk.
Axel wasn’t strong or fierce, he wasn’t greedy or hateful. Axel was just a boy from Alabama whose dad abandoned him and whose mother moved to Florida, hoping for a fresh start. He didn’t come looking for trouble, trouble went looking for him. Me, I was the trouble- at least that’s what his mom said. I was the girl who’d gotten bored with her ex and took an interest in Axel. My intentions were as pure as they could have been for someone like me. I wanted fun, spark, adventure. Axel, with his carefree attitude and natural charm seemed like the perfect candidate. What I didn’t expect was to succumb to the weakest of all emotions- love. I’d used that word before, but never had I meant it like I did when Axel was the one those words were being spoken to. Everything about him was entrancing. The way he did what he wanted and didn’t care what anyone thought. The way I was just a girl, a girl he’d fallen for, but still, just a girl.
Axel was the one to take me down from the pedestal of my family’s name. He was the only one that I could be completely open with- the hearer of my secrets, the dryer of my tears. But then, the thing that I loved about him the most became the iron that he used to brand me. Axel knew too much about me and he learned very well that throwing daggers was nothing in comparison to throwing the truth.
Frances
There’s a bond that’s supposed to exist between families, similar to the covalent bond in chemistry except, rather than sharing electrons, families are bonded by love, by blood, by a name. But as with covalent bonds, those bonds can be broken.
Things changed very quickly between my parents and me, though I can’t quite put my finger on the exact date or time. One minute we were interested in everyone’s lives and the next minute I was shutting them out of mine and lacking the desire to know about theirs. Upon coming home after school, I used to search the house for mom, just to say ‘hello’. Dinner times were spent with mom and dad and no day came to an end without me saying ‘goodnight’. But now, I’d gotten into the rhythm of sneaking around like a criminal in my own home. I’d rush upstairs, fling my door closed and tune my parents out with loud music. At first, they’d seemed okay with it- ‘teenagers’, they would sigh. Then they were not so okay with it, ‘disrespectful,’ they would huff.
So the fact that mother’s fists were pounding against my door, insisting that I open it, wasn’t surprising at all. If my family had a problem, we talked about it. If something was broken, we fixed it. At least that’s how they liked it. As for me, I needed the space. I needed to breathe without them. All the things that I’d done since hanging out with Jemma were all the things they needed to know nothing about. My final year in high school would be one filled with mischief, filled with inerasable memories, and I didn’t want to break the hearts with the person I was becoming. Mother, she didn’t trust Jemma and as each day passed by, it seemed as though her trust in me dwindled right along with it.
“Frances Victoria Hilltower. You open this door immediately. Do you hear me,” she yelled.
The door trembled as her fists made contact a few more times.
“Frances!”
I jumped off my bed, lowered the music and opened the door just a crack. “Yes mom.”
She rested her hand on the door and I allowed her to gently glide it open.
“Frances,“ she said, adjusting her glasses on her nose, “what on earth is going on with you?“
“Nothing. Nothing. I’m just, you know, listening to music.“ I waved my hand over to the iPod dock that was still spitting a Taylor Swift tune.
“I mean in general Frances. Why have you been so distant?“
Mom walked over to my bed, smoothed out my pink and green duvet and sat down. There was a small smile on her face, but her eyes were bursting with concern. It hurt to see her that way; to know that I was the reason her smile no longer reached her eyes.
I sat on the opposite corner of the bed and watched as her eyes traveled all over my room. From the stack of books on my desk to the photo of Jemma and me on my night stand and to the pile of clothes tossed in the corner.
“Do you need me to take those down and get them washed for you?“ she asked.
“It’s not laundry mom,“ I replied.
“Then why is it just piled up like that? Frances you know better than to have your room looking like a tornado swept right through it.“
“I’m getting rid of some stuff.”
“As in, throwing them away?“
Mom shook her head and fixed her glasses another time.
“I’m giving them to Goodwill. There are so many people out there who could really use them, so I figured I could do something good. Help out where I can, you know?”
Mom was growing agitated. She wanted desperately to bite her tongue; to hold back her opinion, but she couldn’t. “Is this what Jemma was doing in your room the other day?“
“Mom, I said I’m giving them to charity. That’s something good.“
“Yes Frances, donating is always good. However, I’m of the impression that you’re getting rid of these things because your new… fashion expert told you they’re not good enough.”
“She never said that.”
“Oh yeah. Which would explain why half the time you’re dressed like a…”
“Like a what mom?”
“Like Jemma. You’re becoming her Frances and it scares me.”
“I thought you liked Jemma.”
She took my hand, massaging it gently as though trying to rid me of some tension before she applied even more with her words. “Frances. I am your mother, but don’t forget that I’m also your friend. All I want in this life is for you to be happy and I’m not sure that your friendship with Jemma is making you happy.”
“I’m having fun, mom. For the first time in high school, I’m actually having fun.”
“You can have fun in other ways, the way you did with your old friends. Do you even talk to them anymore?”
“People change,” I replied, lowering my head.
“And not all change is good.”
“I’m still me, though. Sure, I’ve started to get all dolled up and I’m more invested in the social aspect of school but I haven’t become a different person if that’s what you’re asking.”
She cocked her head to the side and glared at me.
“Well, you’re not exactly the Frances that I recognize anymore and I know for a fact that you have Jemma to thank for that.”
“Mom please, I know what you’re trying to do. I get that you care but you also
have to realize that I’m not a kid anymore. I’ll be going to college soon and I mean, if there’s anyone who can prepare me for the real world, it’s Jemma.”
Mom blew out a long breath. “You’ve got it all wrong. So, so, so, so wrong. Do what you want with your friendships, Frances. But remember, there are rules. There are rules in the real world and there are rules in my house. I expect you to say ‘hello’ when you get home from school. I expect you to have dinner with your father and me. And most of all, I expect that you know there are consequences for sneaking out at night.”
With that, she pushed herself up off the bed and began to make strides toward the room door.
“Mom,” I called out, quickening my pace.
I threw my arms around her and squeezed her tightly. Her hands slowly moved from her sides and caressed my back. ‘You know that you can talk to me, right? That if there’s anything at all bothering you, I’ll be here- not to judge, just to listen.'
I nodded.
“I love you Frances. I love you very much.”
“I love you mom.”
11
Jemma
One more day was all that was left until my plan was put into action. But could I catch a break? No. Axel and I had a photoshoot for the yearbook scheduled. We were the school’s ‘power couple’, a title that wasn’t surprising but still exciting. Having arranged to meet at the library and head out together to get with the school photographer- Jim, an 11th grade art nerd- I showed up to the library as planned. It could have been another episode of ‘avoid Jemma’ like the one Frances had so cleverly pulled at the beginning of the week. I would have been much more content with that than with what was actually taking place.
Instead of parking himself in front of the door, Axel was seated around a large mahogany table, deep in conversation. And of course, he’s entitled to speak with whomever he damn well pleases, but there wasn’t a necessity to converse with the person across from him. In fact, it was more like a slap in the face, a nail in my coffin.
“Axel,” I yelled, not giving a damn about the shushing that I’d receive from the librarian.
Axel’s head shot up and as his eyes met mine, I got this horrid feeling that he didn’t want me to see him. It was that look that people got when they’d been caught red-handed. Or maybe I was just overthinking things.
“Fancy seeing you here.” I rested a hand on Axel’s shoulder, and focused on his partner in crime.
“Jemma, it’s good to see you. You look like you’re in a much better mood than last time.”
“I’m always in a good mood Mr. Jones. It’s you who seems to always be constipated with envy when it comes to me.”
“Stop it Jemma,”Axel warned.
I needed to be nice to him. If our pictures were to turn out any good, we couldn’t start bickering. Plus, a fight on a Friday could extend through the entire weekend and I had plans for the weekend. Big plans. Plans that required Axel’s full participation. But as far as Mr. Jones was concerned, there wasn’t anything prompting me to let him off easy.
“We’ve got that photoshoot in a few minutes, Axel. Are you really going to make poor little Jim wait so that you and Mr. Jones can talk about how nice my legs are?”
Mr. Jones cleared his throat. “We need to talk, Jemma. You haven’t showed up to class and with exams coming up, you really won’t want to miss anymore.”
I leaned into Mr. Jones, pausing just a millimeter from his ear. I could see his shoulders tense. We were in public and he was worried that my unpredictability would tarnish his reputation. But I wasn’t up to mischief. Not in front of Axel.
“I think I’ve already deserved an A,” I whispered.
Mr. Jones swept his hand across his forehead. “There’s something going on with you Jemma. Axel and I were just talking about…” His voice sounded so serious, like he was worried about me. I hated that tone. Pity was insulting, especially from someone who barely had his shit together.
“Axel!” I looked him dead in the eyes.
“We should get going,” Axel said, hurriedly pushing his chair back. He didn’t hurry because he was afraid of me. He hurried because he didn’t want me to cause a scene. Smart boy.
“What the hell were you talking to him about?”
Rage was burning a fire in my chest.
“Let’s go Jemma.” Axel tugged at my arm.
“We’ll talk some other time,” Mr. Jones said, regarding Axel, but avoiding me.
“You sure as shit will not be talking some other time,” I hissed. Succumbing to Axel’s pulling and tugging, I finally left the library with him. Now was not the time to start thinking crazy thoughts. Now was not the time to lash out at Axel. Doing that would solve nothing. I had to remember that. I needed to remember that. And I had to trust that Axel new better than to go running his mouth.
“What did you say to him?” I turned to Axel.
“Nothing,” Axel said, squeezing my fingers reassuringly.
“So, what you’re telling me, is that you just sat there, saying…nothing? Just staring into each other’s eyes and what? Jones has a crush on you too now, or what?”
“Jesus Christ Jemma. Not everything is about you.” He was still holding my hand, gripping it so hard that I’d have to pry a little to free myself from his hold. He spun me around to face him, his golden eyes burning and blazing like wildfire. “I promise you,” he said, “you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
I hated that his reassurance meant nothing anymore.
“Axel?” My voice was barely a whisper, my throat raw with weakness. Just this one time, I allowed that part of me to win. “What happened with us?’
He brushed his hand across my cheek, “We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?’
“Far enough to get to the point where we feel the need to use things against each other? We’re not really happy, Axel. We haven’t been for a long time.”
“We’re making Jim wait,” he said, a tortured smile tugging at his lips.
I hated him for it. More than he would ever know. More than he ever needed me to hate him.
12
Frances
I stopped by the courtyard to catch a glimpse of Jemma and Axel’s photoshoot. It was nothing but torture, really. The way the held each other like there was nowhere in the world better to be than in each other’s arms. Jemma cocked her head to the side and Axel didn’t hesitate to press his lips against hers.
I looked away, feeling a tinge of something I didn’t need to waste time analyzing. I spun back around, not expecting the company I was faced with.
Ginny, with her spiked pink hair and overly lined eyes was headed toward me.
She perched herself beside me on the grass, crossed her legs in front of her. “It’s about time, wouldn’t you say?”
“Ginny,” I started, “I’m sorry I haven’t called you back … it’s just that the last time we spoke -”
“You were a naïve bitch? All is forgiven. Not forgotten, but forgiven. Plus, Jemma would probably sink her nails into your throat if decided to entertain me.”
“She’s not that bad. In fact, if you got to know her, you’d understand.”
“Get to know her,” Ginny snorted. ‘I have no idea what kind of rocks she has you smoking, Frances, but at some point you’ll need to realize that she’s just using you. Eventually you’ll be tossed to the side like a big sack of trash.”
“Ginny?” A sigh. No explanation. No words, really. I was nothing but a traitor when it came to her.
“Oh, wait. That’s not quite right. Because it’s you, right? You’re the one who tosses people away when you get bored of them.”
“I didn’t toss you guys away.”
“Call it what you want, Frances. But you chose Jemma.”
“I shouldn’t have had to choose.”
“You’re right. You shouldn’t have had to choose because Jemma should have NEVER been a choice. Anyways, that’s not the point. I didn’t come here to fight with you. I just wa
nted to check on you. Remind you that no matter what, you need to watch your back when it comes to Jemma. I see the doubt in you, Frances. And if that doubt ever gets too strong, I’m here. A shoulder and ear, whatever it is you need, I’m here to offer it.”
I threw my arms around her and pulled her into a hug. It took every damn thing in me not to burst into tears.
“Axel wants you to be careful,” she whispered. “Please, Frances, don’t let her drag you too deep down the rabbit hole.”
Axel want me to be careful?
I pulled back, my eyes trained on hers.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“He’s worried about you,” Ginny said and I could see in her eyes that admitting that was hard for her. Accepting that was hard on her. Ginny loved me. No matter how distant I became. No matter how much of a bitch I became. Ginny was there for me.
“Cotton candy. Cotton candy,” Jemma’s voice whipped through the air like lightning.
I turned to see that she was pointing at Ginny’s hair and laughing. My heart sunk. Ginny tossed her a middle finger, not turning around to meet her gaze. Jemma’s nostrils flared as she watched Ginny walk away, finger still in the air. If it weren’t for Axel, Jemma would have probably launched herself at Ginny and dragged her by the hair across the lawn.
Jemma tangled a hand in Axel’s and made her way toward me.
“What did that nerd want with you?”
“Cut it the hell out, Jemma,” Axel barked.
Jemma nuzzled her head into Axel’s neck and whispered something that sounded like, “I know how to treat you.”
“And that’s the only reason I’m still here,” he hissed.
I wanted to roll her into a ball. Honestly, just snap those twiggy little legs of hers and send her tumbling down the hill.
“So are you excited about tomorrow, Axel?” Jemma threw her hair over her shoulder.
