St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  He shrugged. “I tend to hang out with who I want.”

  “Yeah, okay.”

  “What?”

  “I’ve seen your type before, Josiah Walker. You say you’re going to hang out with the less popular kids, but when the team starts laughing at you, your story will change.”

  “Hey.” He put his hand over mine on the gear shift. “Look at me.”

  I glanced away from the road to meet his hazel-eyed gaze.

  “I am not that type of guy. I don’t let the crowd pressure me into doing what I don’t want to do. If I say we’re going to be friends for the rest of our lives, then that’s it. You’re stuck with me like a shoe on a horse, little lady.”

  My heart warmed, and I smiled. “We’ll see,” I said.

  “Yes, we will. And when I prove that your fears are unfounded, I expect a reward.”

  “Like what?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. A Pez dispenser, a spool of string. I’ll also accept dinner.”

  “I told you I’m not cooking for you.”

  “I don’t know. You told Grams you would this morning. And you wouldn’t want to disappoint her.”

  “Grams won’t know.”

  “She will when I tell her.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “You play dirty.”

  “Only when necessary.”

  We pulled into my building’s parking lot and I turned off the engine. I didn’t get out immediately and he didn’t make a move to either.

  “So, what about you? What do you want to be when you grow up?”

  “Oh, that’s easy. A civil engineer.”

  “Wow, didn’t see that coming.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t know. You’re such a sports guy. I guess I expected you to say something like sports management or sports rehabilitation or something like that.”

  He twisted toward me, leaning against the door.

  “Don’t get me wrong. Sports are great, but they’re just a means to an end. I mean, I know I’m good, but am I NFL good?” He shrugged. “Probably not. What I do know is that one day, it’s all going to end, and I’ll need something real to fall back on.”

  “So, you’re going to build bridges?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  “Because bridges bring people together. I think that’s pretty neat.”

  I snort laughed. He did too.

  “That’s so cheesy,” I said.

  “Yeah, I know. It’s true, though. Maybe one day I’ll build a bridge that goes from Hawaii to California.”

  “Sure. Do you plan on becoming a trillionaire any time soon?”

  He shrugged with a grin. “Well, maybe from New York to Texas then.”

  I put my hand on his forearm.

  “You miss home, don’t you?”

  He sighed. “Seeing Grams today made me miss my mom. My brothers. My sisters. Even Aunt Beatrice. I just… some days are harder than others, you know.”

  I patted his hand. “Yeah. I know.”

  He took in a deep breath and let it out.

  “So, Sophia Johnson.”

  “Uh-oh. You’re using my full name. This can’t be good.”

  “No, it’s fine. Now that you’ve met my grandma, I was wondering about yours. What was she like?”

  “Grandma Odin?”

  He nodded.

  “For starters, she died about five years back, on her shrimp boat back in Louisiana.”

  “I heard. I’m sorry about that.”

  “Thank you. New York is fun but nothing beats living with my grandma Odie on her shrimp boat.”

  “Wait, you actually lived on the shrimp boat?”

  “Ate fresh shrimp every night.”

  “Sounds like the life.”

  “It wasn’t bad, from what I remember. I mean, the mosquitos were awful, but otherwise it was pretty good. Cooking with Grandma over a fire, laughing and joking together...”

  “How long were you down there?”

  “From when I was a baby until I was eleven. Then my grandma died, and we took the money she left us to move to Vermont. My aunt Beatrice was already in Texas by then. My uncle Ray and aunt Evangeline are still there. They’ve been up to see us a few times. They’re the most lovey-dovey old people you’ve ever seen. Kind of gross actually.”

  He laughed. I did too.

  We spoke about his family. His mother and father and brothers and sister. We talked about when Grams was young and his dog Buck. About how his mom cried at night when his dad was on the oil rig. Two weeks on and four weeks off. How he’d grown up wanting to be a veterinarian but saw a picture of the Rialto Bridge in Venice Italy in a magazine once and started constructing bridges out of Legos. He never stopped.

  By the time my mom called me, it was ten o’clock and she was nearly hysterical. Even telling her that I was with Joe in the parking lot didn’t calm her down. Needless to say, we practically sprinted upstairs before she went any more nuclear.

  “Where have you two been?” she demanded. “It’s after ten o’clock. And what happened to your hair?”

  “Sorry, Mom. After we finished volunteering, Joe took me to a paintball field.”

  “Just you two?”

  “Yeah. We kind of got into it.”

  She touched my hair and looked at her hands.

  “I’ll bet. You nearly scared me to death.” She frowned at Joe. “And where is your sense of responsibility?”

  He winced. “Sorry, ma’am.”

  “I’ll bet you are.” Mom looked back at me. “Well, go wash up.” She jerked her chin at Joe. “I imagine you’ll want dinner too?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I figured.” She gave Joe and me one last once-over before snatching her phone from the counter and calling in two pizza pies.

  “Sorry,” Joe said. “I didn’t mean to keep you out so late.”

  I shrugged. “It’s okay. I had a good time.”

  He nodded.

  I started walking to my room, when Quincey stood in my path.

  “Hey, cuz,” he said, arms crossed.

  I wrinkled my nose. “Hey.”

  “Still just friend?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Yes, Q. Still friends.”

  “Good.”

  His gaze held mine as he stepped out of my path.

  What was with him? Why was he so concerned about what Joe and I did? And why was he being so weird?

  I reached my room and jumped into the shower.

  I put on a T-shirt and jogging pants before my body finally decided it’d had enough. I climbed into bed and promptly fell asleep.

  23

  The next morning, I was awakened to the sound of music.

  Odd.

  Mom usually filled her mornings with her Bible on her lap, and her mind on the Lord.

  There might have been some hymns sang, but never actual music.

  I pushed off the blankets and tiptoed to the door, slowly pulling it open and creeping down the hallway.

  I could hear the music clearly now.

  It was Otis Redding’s “Sitting On The Dock Of A Bay.”

  The last time I’d heard this song, I was four, sitting on Grandma Odie’s lap, while she rocked in her rocking chair. It was a hot summer’s night and we were watching the sun go down over the bayou. Grandma’s strong, soft arms were around me. I felt safe then. Happy.

  Then Mama came and turned the song off. She and Grandma argued, though I didn’t know why.

  That’s all I could remember.

  I peeked around the hallway corner and spotted Mama standing in our living room, coffee in hand, slowly swaying to the music. She was staring out the window like she saw Jesus himself out there. Her face was wet and, ever so often, she sniffed.

  Mama rarely cried. Even when she broke her arm falling down the stairs a few years back, she’d screamed but tears never left her eyes.

  Now here she was, looking like she was in some sort of trance with tear
s falling into her coffee cup. Had something happened? Were Uncle Ray and Aunt Evangeline okay?

  I stepped out of the hallway and stood behind the couch.

  “Mama?” I asked.

  She jumped back, spilling her coffee on the hardwood floor.

  “Sophia!” she cried, shaking the excess coffee from her shirt before plunking her cup down on a nearby side table. “Good Lord, help me.”

  I walked from behind the couch, coming closer to her.

  “I just—”

  “Girl, get me a paper towel, please.”

  Her face was a mix of irritation and surprise. Her breathing was quick. She kept reaching for her heart but stopping when she realized her hands were wet.

  I ran to get a roll of paper towels and handed her some before I set to drying the floor.

  “Baby, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.” She reached for her phone and turned off the music. “You have to announce yourself. If your father could see you now, he’d have a fit.”

  “Sorry, Mama. I just… you looked… I wanted to see if you were okay.”

  She dropped down onto the couch next to the side table. She picked up her coffee cup, examined the now quarter filled contents, then put it down again in disgust.

  “I’m fine.” She settled into the couch and sighed. “Just thinking, is all.”

  I left the wet paper towels in a heap on the floor and curled up next to her. She smelled like Elizabeth Taylor’s White Diamonds perfume, Tussy deodorant—mama didn’t go for the new stuff) —Pink Hair Lotion, and love. Yes, she was a pain most times, and she was unnecessarily strict, but she was still my mama, and we were all we had.

  “Sometimes, I think it was a mistake coming here,” she said. “This city is so big, and I can’t keep you as close as I could back in Vermont.” She ran her hand over my black satin headscarf. “And sometimes, I think it was the Lord who brought us here so we can find something.”

  “Find what, Mama?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe a little bit of happiness? Maybe a little bit of sadness? Maybe both?”

  I wrapped my arms around her chest and tipped my chin up at her. She wore a hard frown, and her hair was wrapped up in a satin scarf, the same as mine. Her dark cheeks looked flushed and her lips were pursed in thought.

  Did I look like her, or did I look more like Daddy? Did she ever miss Daddy? Was that the sadness she was talking about? And if so, what was the happiness?

  I hugged her tight.

  “I love you, Mama.”

  She raised an eyebrow at me, her frown growing deeper. “I love you too,” she said, hugging me back. “Now go ’head and get dressed for school.”

  I nodded and stood from the couch. On the opposite side of the room, above the mantel, was Daddy’s picture. A man in a marine uniform, his brown eyes big and bright. What would Daddy say if he were here? Would he make mama feel better, or would she still cry?

  I peeked back at Mama. She wasn’t looking at me, or even Daddy’s picture. Her attention was back at the window, staring out over the city.

  My chest felt tight. Something felt wrong here, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. It was like I was standing on a rug, waiting for someone to pull it out from under me.

  I pulled in a breath and walked toward my bedroom.

  Quincey wouldn’t be up for another few hours, which meant Mama would have a few more hours of peace.

  By the time I reached my room, the music had started again.

  And I wondered what it all meant.

  24

  “No proms,” Mama answered.

  We were standing in the kitchen celebrating a victory. Both my math and chemistry teachers had written a letter to Mom, praising me for my improved test scores and homework. That had earned me a hug and a kiss on the cheek the second I walked through the door.

  And now, we were standing around talking and laughing and enjoying this delicious pizza. Then Quincey had to bring up the P word. Prom.

  “Come on, Auntie. Everyone goes to their proms.”

  “Well, Sophia ain’t everybody. She needs to focus on keeping her grades up and staying out of trouble, not on going to unsupervised parties.”

  Why did Quincey have to bring this up now? I wasn’t even planning on asking Mama. I would just tell her I was studying at someone’s house or volunteering at a soup kitchen and go anyway.

  I’d learned long ago that what Mama didn’t know, wouldn’t hurt her. And there was a lot she didn’t know about me and my life. I hadn’t even told her I was in the school play. Why would I tell her that I was going to my junior prom?

  “But, Auntie, studies show that kids who don’t have enough recreational activities start to experience feelings of isolation and depression. Did you know that eighty-seven percent of children who are on medication state that they have no friends?”

  “Sophia has friends. Those girls who come in and out of this house at all hours.”

  “Yes, Auntie, but that’s in the house. What about going out and having a good time?”

  “She can have a good time right here at home. She doesn’t need to go out and do it.”

  “But, Auntie, didn’t you go to your prom?”

  Mama’s eyes turned to flames. “Quincey, you better drop this thing, and drop it now. My baby is not going to go to some prom and come home pregnant or diseased. Ain’t no babies or STDs coming into this house.”

  “But, Auntie—”

  “If you but Auntie me one more time, boy.”

  The front door opened and closed again. Joe let himself in and wandered into the kitchen.

  “Hey, Auntie Pam.” He gave Mom a kiss on the cheek, which she accepted with a smile, before bumping fist with Quincey and coming to stand next to me.

  “Sophia,” he said with a tight nod.

  I made a face. “Josiah.”

  He snorted.

  “So, Joe, you going to junior prom?” Quincey asked.

  Joe shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

  Quincey rolled his eyes. “Yes or no, bro. I’m trying to make a point here.”

  “Uh, I don’t know.” He looked at me. “Are you going?”

  I shook my head, glancing at Mama.

  What was Quincey’s deal? Why was he pushing this?

  “My point is,” Quincey said. “That everyone goes to their junior prom.”

  Mama shook her head. “Not everyone. Joe doesn’t even know if he’s going or not.”

  “I’ll go if Sophia goes.”

  “There you go,” Quincey said.

  Mama’s eyes went wide. “That does not change my mind.”

  “You said you were worried about Sophia coming back diseased or pregnant from prom. If she goes with Joe, she won’t be either diseased or pregnant. I mean, you trust Joe, right?”

  Joe grinned. “How could she not trust this face?”

  Mom pinched his cheek. “You know I love you, Joe. But proms are full of such unsavory people. I don’t want Sophia tied up in that.”

  “Don’t worry, Aunt Pam,” Joe said. “I’ll keep a close eye on her.”

  Mom frowned, trying to find a way out of her current dilemma.

  “She doesn’t even have a dress.”

  “I can get a dress, Mama,” I said.

  “Or a limo.”

  “I’ll rent the limo,” Joe said.

  “Or flowers.”

  “Auntie,” Quincey said. “She’ll be taken care of.”

  Mama looked at Quincey, then at Joe, and back at Quincey.

  “Fine. She can only go if both of you chaperone her. And don’t drink any punch.”

  “Done,” Quincey said. “I’ll be her official chaperone. We’ll only dance in threes and all bathroom breaks will be supervised.”

  “Hey!” I protested.

  “Fine,” Mom said, but I could see that it definitely wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine at all. And I was sure I’d hear about it once Mama got me alone.

  She put her p
late in the sink and rinsed it before putting it in the dishwasher.

  “Okay, I’m heading to bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  “Night, Auntie,” Joe and Quincey said together.

  “Night, Mama.”

  When Mama’s door closed, I whipped around to face Quincey, my hands on my hips.

  “What are you doing? Are you trying to ruin my life?”

  “Nope,” Quincey said, taking another bite of pizza. “I’m trying to help you.”

  “Help me? How is exposing me to my mom helping me?”

  “Look, Sophia. I’ve been here three weeks and you know what I’ve seen? You sneak around and lie. I’m tired of it.”

  “Are you kidding? You above all people should understand that my mom is unreasonable. I have to sneak around if I want to have a life.”

  “Or, you can talk to your mom and convince her to see things your way.”

  I laughed in his face. “Wow, when did you become such a comedian?”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I’m serious too, Q.”

  “Well, I can tell you that, from now on, I’m calling you out on all the lies. If you are going to do something, then you better not tell me, because I’m going to tell.”

  “Why? When did you start to develop a conscious?”

  He shrugged. “I’ve been spending a lot of time here. Really getting to know Auntie Pam. She’s been through so much that you don’t even know about. She loves you and she wants to protect you, and all this running around isn’t helping anything. She’s going to find out what you’re up to, and when she does things are going to be worse off for you than they were before.”

  “She’s not going to find out.”

  “Hebrews 4:13. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight; everything is uncovered and exposed before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.”

  I put my hand over my mouth. “Oh my God. You’ve been reading the Bible with her?”

  He rolled his eye and looked down at his hands.

  “I’m just saying. When I render an account, I don’t want it to say that I’ve been lying for my cousin.”

  “Q!”

  “Just be honest. Okay? That’s all I ask. Be honest.”

  He put a slice of pizza on his plate and walked into his bedroom, leaving Joe and me alone.

  “Did you know about this?” I asked through clenched teeth.