Shattered Grace (Fallen from Grace) (33 page)

“
He heard enough.” Grace sighed.

As Grace walked out of the house and toward her car, she had to remind her feet to keep moving forward. If her morning so far was any indication of how the rest of her day was going to go, she was better off going back inside to finish smothering herself with the pillow. The responsible side of her brain urged her to ignore the inevitable and head to school anyway.

A few steps before reaching her car, Quentin stepped in front of her. “Can we talk about last night?” His hand nervously twitched at his side.

“
I’m going to be late.” Grace sidestepped him for the door.

“
Well,” he said behind her. “We need to talk about it.”

Determined to ensure he knew she meant business, she whirled around. “No, we need to forget about it.” Without looking back, she got into her car and drove to school.

By the end of sixth period, Grace was relieved her day had been more of the same—no surprises, and nothing like her morning. It was pretty boring. Turn in homework, get assigned more homework, discuss midterms.

Amanda still refused to talk to her; she wouldn’t even look at her. Leah predictably nattered about Brian and the party. Emily barely acknowledged Grace at lunch, only through intermittent mouthfuls of food and Tommy. Grace wondered if she should be mourning her best friend right along with her grandfather.

Zeke, however, surprised her. He still waited for her after every class, carrying her books, periodically asking if she was alright, and if she and Amanda had worked things out yet. He even walked her to her car. For today, Grace was glad for his persistence.

By the time Friday morning came around, her anger toward Quentin had dissipated, but not entirely. She somehow managed to talk to him without spewing venom, which was a step in the right direction.

“
We should start training this weekend,” he said, while grabbing a bowl for his usual Cocoa Pebbles.

“
I know.” Okay, so she was able to talk without throwing word daggers at him, but that didn’t mean she was ready to carry on long-winded conversations.

“
What day works best?”

“
Tomorrow. I have the party tonight,” Grace said, as Quentin sat down next to her.

Pulling the now empty spoon from his mouth, he turned to her, his mouth full of cereal. “Party?”

“
Yeah,” Grace said, already getting frustrated. She focused on her breathing. “You know … friends, music, dancing.”

“
Ha ha.” Quentin sounded just as frustrated as Grace felt. “I know what a party is. When and where?”

His giving her the third degree was a constant invasion of her privacy, and she was beginning to hate it. She wondered how her grandfather had dealt with it. “Eight o’clock.” She blew out a breath. “Just outside of town at Brian’s house.”

He took a couple more bites, and talked again with his mouth full. “You know I’ll—”

“
Have to go with. Yeah, I figured.” Grace rolled her eyes. After her eyes rolled back to front and center, she noticed Quentin seemed hurt by her lack of enthusiasm in him going. For a second, she felt bad and almost apologized, and then she remembered the other night. Without any more thought, she scooted her chair back and got up. She put her dishes in the dishwasher, and tossed over her shoulder, “I’m leaving for school.” She didn’t hear the scrape of Quentin’s chair, but knew he’d be right behind her.

Amanda walked into first period just as the bell rang, like she had the last couple of days—straight to her desk, no quick glances, nothing. Grace watched as Amanda swiveled in her seat to sit angled outward—away from her—facing more toward Miss Township’s desk in the corner. If it weren’t test day, Grace would have thrown an airplane note, or snuck in a whisper. Something. But instead, she sucked it up and kept quiet. Grace finished her test a little before the end of the period. She looked up just as Amanda walked to Miss Township’s desk, handed in her test, and left the classroom. Unless Amanda was at her locker, or just happened to show up at lunch, Grace wouldn’t get a chance to talk to her. Maybe she’ll be at the party? Probably not, she thought. Jackass Charming probably has a business trip. She so needed to get over it. Amanda was going to do what Amanda wanted
to do, no matter what. The thought of letting Amanda do something so stupid without trying to get her to think it over made Grace’s stomach hurt. Nope, no getting over it, she needed to talk to her.

Grace didn’t see Amanda the rest of the day. Her mood teetered between relief and disappointment. She didn’t want to have another public catfight, but she didn’t want to continue to be on the outs with Amanda either. Amanda was Amanda, but she loved her regardless.

“
So, I’ll see you tonight?” Zeke asked from outside the Shelby as he put her backpack in the backseat.

“
Uh, yeah,” she said slowly. She looked at him thoughtfully for a moment and couldn’t help being blunt. “You know we’re just friends, right?” Embarrassment warmed her cheeks for asking, but she liked Zeke and didn’t want to hurt his feelings by allowing him to think they were something they weren’t.

“
Yeah, I know.” He shoved his hands into the front pockets of his cargo shorts. “I’ll see you later.” She watched as he walked back through the parking lot and to his car.

Feeling a little guilty, she sighed before turning back around. She didn’t have to see Quentin’s car to know he was in his usual spot. She’d felt his eyes boring into her ever since she and Zeke got to her car. Too weak to stick to her own personal promise of not looking, she peeked at his parking spot. Sure enough, he was there—window rolled down, shades covering his eyes. The gaze of his stare was so intense, Grace could see the burn of liquid silver through the dark lenses. Abruptly, she turned her attention back to the road, driving the remainder of the way home trying not to glance in her side or rearview mirrors.

When she drove closer to the manor, Grace noticed cars parked on either side of the road, along with a few parked in the driveway. “What the hell?” she said out loud.

Pulling through the brick pillars on either side of the driveway, she noticed a sign that read “Darlene’s Estate Sales.” A sudden urge to strangle her mother took away any ability she had to stay calm. After slamming the gearshift into park, she swung the car door open and rushed up the steps like a crazy person. A very angry, out of control, crazy person.

“
Grace!” Quentin called out from behind her.

Completely ignoring him, she body-slammed the door open. “Mom!” she yelled as loud as she could. Strangers were everywhere, touching her grandfather’s things, and all turned to see what the crazy little commotion was all about. “Where are you?” Grace continued to yell as she took the stairs two at a time toward her mother’s room.

“
She’s not here,” a female voice called up from the bottom of the stairwell. “So keep your voice down. You’re going to scare all the buyers off.”

Grace stopped dead in her tracks, stunned. When people said they were so angry they saw red, she assumed it was a figure of speech. It wasn’t. A film of red covered her sight, making it nearly impossible for her to see past her anger long enough to focus on the woman standing like she belonged in the middle of her house. “What are you doing?” Grace seethed, loud enough for most of the strangers in the house to hear. “More importantly, how’d you even get in?”

Rose’s thin lips pulled into a smug line. “My dad used to live here too once upon a time. He had a key.”

Grace shook her head in disbelief, and pushed a breath through her pursed mouth. “Yeah, before I was born. You have five minutes to get yourself and all these people the hell out of my house before I call the cops.”

“
Your
house?” her cousin Rose said with a
pfft
. “You can’t be serious.” Rose stared at her accusingly, then gripped her hips with her bony hands.

“
Oh, I’m dead serious. Get. Out. Now!” Grace yelled, loud enough this time for everyone to hear, balling her fists at her sides.

“
What are you going to do with all this stuff?” Rose said, with hands waving around the room. “And this house, and all the money Christophe left you, you greedy little brat? You don’t need
all of
it.”

“
And you do? I’m pretty sure you received enough money. And I’m positive part of your inheritance wasn’t worry. So don’t worry about what I’m going to do with any of it, or if I need it.” Grace dramatically pointed at the watch on her left wrist. “Four minutes.”

Rose was nearly fifty, over a decade older than Grace’s mother, but she stomped her foot like she was five. “It’s too late,” Rose tried to reason.

“
I don’t care. If anybody walks out of this house or off the property with anything, they’re going to jail and so are you.” Grace swung her arm up, making sure the watch was in front of her eyes. “Three minutes.”

“
Fine!” Rose hissed out through clenched teeth, her eyes narrowed. “This isn’t over.”

Ooh
,
Grace mimed with mouth and hands. Triumph moved her limbs down a couple of steps. She loved knowing she was getting under Rose’s skin.

“
Two minutes,” Grace counted down.

Grace followed on Rose’s heels through the house, not sure where her cousin was headed. Rose pulled aside a younger woman dressed in an off-white suit, whom Grace assumed was Darlene, the estate sale lady, and had a terse, whispered conversation that included lots of arm-waving and gesturing. She overheard something about reimbursements and non-refundable deposits, and caught Rose’s eye to point at her watch once again. Grace didn’t care if Rose had to fork over any money. She just wanted her and everyone else out.