She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) (12 page)

Ben wants to try
, Megan said.
Great.
I roll to my side and pull Ben’s extra set of sheets over my head. When my phone buzzes, I flip the sheets down and reach for it.

Text from Juliet.

 

Spending time with Pooja. Talk later?

 

I ignore her text, feeling too antsy and unsettled. I ache to draw, so I sit up and grab a sketchpad and my pastels. I let my wrists talk to me. I end up making a portrait—of Pooja. Maybe she is a master of mind control.

As I admire my work, my phone rings and Gram’s face glows at me, but when I pick up, it’s Rob. “I need to talk to you privately. As soon as possible.”

I shake my head at the ceiling. It’s barely eight in the morning and this day already sucks.

 

Juliet

 

Pooja holds each statue as she explains them to me. “And this is the Goddess of Strength.” Her thick, black hair falls over her shoulders as she speaks, and her eyes search mine as I try to pay attention.

I can’t listen to Hindu history after her performance in the lounge, so I interrupt her. “How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“How did you talk to all of us like that when you don’t even know us?”

Pooja sits next to me on her bed. “I’m not sure you’ll understand.”

“Try me.” I smile, hoping to encourage her to trust me.

“I see things around people.” I raise my eyebrows but she continues. “What I see is indescribable, but it’s sort of like clouds around people. Clouds of color.”

“Color? What does that have to do with anything?”

“I get a feeling from the colors and can interpret what I’m seeing.”

“Like a crystal ball?”

“I guess.” She tilts her head. “But what I see has depth and size. It’s not contained. Maybe it’s more like an aura.”

I think about her words. “Are you psychic?”

“Sometimes what I see has to do with the future. Sometimes it has to do with the past. Mostly, I see the present.”

“So when you said I was missing a half, what do you think that meant?”

“This has been with me all my life, Juliet. I know what it means.” She grabs my hand and leans back on the wall with me. “You lost someone close to you. Most likely a twin. The loss stays with you, even now.”

My eyes water. “I haven’t told anyone. I don’t talk about her.”

Pooja squeezes my hand. “I won’t tell either. This thing I have…sometimes it’s a gift, but sometimes it’s a curse. I don’t want to hurt you. Your business is your business. If you want to talk though, I’m here.”

I let go of Pooja’s hand to wipe away my tears. “I’m really glad you’re here. I never would have guessed my roommate would be a sort-of-psychic from San Diego.”

Pooja smiles. “The boy with the dark hair and the eyes? He has the gift, too.”

“Chase? He can see like you can?”

“I think so. Maybe he doesn’t know it yet. He must be involved with some creative outlet.”

“He’s an artist.” I think about the paintings that hang in his apartment and the sketch he made of me. I walk to my side of the room and pick up the folded paper to hand to Pooja. “He made this of me the other day.”

She opens the sketch. “It’s beautiful.” I smile, proud but unsure of what to say. “Look at this.” She points to the swirls Chase had drawn around my body. “This is a pencil sketch, but he sees more around you than this picture shows. These lines. He sees you like I do.”

“Hmm.”

“He cares for you.” Pooja hands me the sketch. “That’s clear to me from when I saw you in the lounge. You’re muddled though. You’re mixed up with the other boy. Ben, was it?”

“Muddled” perfectly describes how I feel. Being with Chase the past couple of days was perfect. I don’t regret a minute of it. My heart beats as I recall the night before on his little bed.

But I need Ben, too. That didn’t go away because of a few nights with Chase. “I came here for Ben. He’s my reason for being here. Chase has his reasons for being here, too. Neither of our reasons mesh, and neither one of us are looking for something serious with the other, but somehow we’ve spent the week together. I’ve managed to muddle everything in the course of a few days.”

Pooja listens without offering advice on how to un-muddle. I don’t want to talk about myself anymore, so I say, “I want to know more about you.”

“I would love to tell you, but I have to get ready. I’m representing my family at a wedding on Long Island.”

“What? But you just got here. Can’t you skip it?” I don’t care that I’m whining.

“I can’t. A car will be here in a few hours. I won’t be home until tomorrow morning.”

“But it’s your first night! I thought we could hang out and get to know each other.” My desperation annoys even me. Luckily, a knock on the door stops me from total meltdown.

Pooja opens the door to Rocco, tall and brooding, holding a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you,” He pushes them into her hands. Pooja accepts the flowers and smiles. “Uh, I’m Rocco, the angry one from the lounge. Welcome to Sheridan Hall.”

From behind Pooja I gawk, mostly because Rocco’s so calm. He’s never calm.

Rocco grunts. “What, Anderson?”

I shrug. “I didn’t say anything.”

His anger disappears when he smiles at Pooja. “Do you like them?”

“I love them. Thank you.”

Pooja fusses with the flowers, and Rocco beams in the doorway. He must have picked the flowers from the landscaped garden in front of the dorm. I can’t help but grin at the giant man and the beautiful girl exchanging glances in front of me.

“Rocco?” Pooja asks. “Are you busy today? Would you like come with me to a wedding?”

Wait. What?
My jaw drops, and Rocco’s face lights up. “I would love to. What should I wear?”

As Pooja and Rocco work out the details of their day, I flop onto my bed and text Chase again.

You will not believe what is happening here. Talk later?

I tap the phone as I wait for his response. Nothing. He must be upset about my half-naked hallway appearance with Ben. Or he’s freaked out and regrets last night. I have no idea what’s going on and need to talk with him to find out.

Pooja closes the door behind Rocco. “What was that?” I ask.

“I’m a sucker for a man with muscles. He has a nice cloud, too, when he’s not angry. You’re going to have to fill me in on all the emotional turmoil of this floor.”

“Did you will Rocco to say yes?” Of course, I’m curious and a little jealous. Now
there’s
a power I could get on board with.

“No, Juliet! I can only read people. I can’t force people to do what I want them to do. Imagine having that ability!” Pooja giggles and I remember that even though she’s special, she’s also a girl like me.

“Rocco, huh? He certainly has a bod on him. He’s a mountain.”

“I’m going to love climbing him.”

I gasp then laugh with my new ally, the beautiful Pooja Pravali.

 

Chapter Eleven

 

Chase

 

I can’t believe what Rob is saying. “Why didn’t she tell me?”

Rob shrugs. “She didn’t want you to worry.”

“Was she
ever
going to tell me?”

“I think she wanted to last night at dinner, but she lost her nerve. I thought you should know. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t tell you and something happened. The doctors aren’t sure how long she has.”

When Rob had asked me to meet him, I’d thought he was going to either ask for money or tell me he was leaving again. I had no idea he was going to tell me my grandmother is dying. Asshole tells me at a diner at lunchtime so I can’t even hide, or scream, or throw something.

“Is that why you’re here?” I ask.

“She asked me to come. I came.”

“You hate each other. Why would she ask you?”

“You’ll have to ask her that question. Your grandmother and I have had our differences, but we’re family. You and your parents are the only family either of us had.”

He must be nuts. “All my life she’s told me how irresponsible you are. How you turned your back on my father and the gallery. I’ve heard stories about you. You can’t hold a job. You don’t commit to anyone. Why on Earth would she want to bring you into my life?”

“Because I’m all you got.”

I don’t want him here taking care of my grandmother. I should be doing that. “I’m dropping out and moving back into the city, and you can go home and forget she ever called you.”

“Gloria would kill me if I let you drop out of college. It would kill her to have you quit. The best thing you can do for her—”

“Don’t you tell me about the best thing for her. You don’t know anything about her.” I storm out of the diner toward home to Gram. It feels like a hundred bricks are piled on my chest and I gasp for air.

The difference between today and yesterday confuses the hell out of me. Yesterday, Gram was cooking lasagna and everything was going to be okay. Juliet was mine yesterday. The world seemed better, brighter. Today, Gram’s dying and Juliet is back with Ben. They’re both going to go live happily-ever-fucking-after and the world lost some of its glow.

When I reach the apartment, the lights are off and the door’s locked. She’s not home. How can somebody so sick seem so well? The whole thing doesn’t make sense. I flop on the couch and wait for her, since Rob has taken over my room, and doze.

Later, a horn honking outside wakes me as the sun sets outside. “Gram?” I yell and stretch, waiting for her to walk up the stairs. Still no Gram.

I make myself a sandwich and linger in the apartment. The woman has a better social life than I do. I study our picture on the mantle—the one taken after my high school graduation. I’d complained about posing because I was late for a party
.
My eyes water, and the picture blurs.
I’m such an asshole.

When the cuckoo clock on the mantle chimes, I jump.
Shit. I’m supposed to have dinner with Ben.
I pull out my phone and call him.

“C.C.!” he answers. “Are we hanging tonight?” I tell him I’m in the city and won’t make it back until later. I apologize but he’s not mad. He probably never gets mad.

“No, man that’s okay. Thanks for letting me know. Maybe I’ll see what Jules is doing. She’s furious with me again.”

“Why now?”
What could Wonder Ben have done to make her mad.

Ben confirms what Megan told me earlier—that he wants to “give it a try” with Juliet. My heart, already in pieces over the news about my grandmother, shatters completely. “I wasn’t clear with Jules, though, then the shit happened with Rocco, and then Pooja showed up. I didn’t really get to talk to her. I’ll try to catch up with her tonight.”

“What about Megan?” I cross my fingers, hoping he’ll say something like,
Oh, Meg! Yeah, screw Jules! I want Meg!

But he doesn’t. Instead he says, “I owe it to Juliet.” He makes it sound like being with Juliet is some sort of chore. The thought angers me so much that my head may explode. I don’t get that he can be so fucking nice but so damn clueless.

Instinctively, I look out my living room window toward the dance studio. I catch glimpses of ballerinas doing their stuff. I think one of the spinning heads I see is Juliet’s, but I don’t tell Ben. “Okay, Ben. Good luck.” I hang up and exercise restraint, because all I want to do is throw my phone against a wall and hide.

After an hour or so, I give up on waiting for Gram and walk outside. I see exactly what I need. My friends sit on the curb, drinking beer like every other Saturday night. New Chase had a bad day. But Old Chase? Old Chase busts out of the closet, raring to go at the sight of his childhood friends.

“Hey, you assholes.” I love these guys. Rob says I have no family, but on the curb outside my house I’m looking at my family. Paul, Mike, and Alex turn around at the sound of my voice. The only one missing is Sara. The last time I sat on the curb drinking with my friends, Sara and I woke up in jail.

“College boy! You missed us already?” Paulie gives me a hug.

“You’re the ones sitting on my curb.” I plop down and join them.

“We’re just here for the view.” Alex points toward the ballet studio.

New Chase misses his ballerina. The guys chatter as I imagine Juliet arching her back, pressing her pink bra into my hands. But last night doesn’t matter. I can’t compete with Wonder Ben.

Instead of getting depressed about everything, I give in to Old Chase and let him take over. The Chase who doesn’t give a shit. The Chase with friends who are like brothers, who accept him no questions asked. The Chase who doesn’t emotionally attach himself to women. The Chase who knows how to protect himself from the roller coaster he’s been put through during this God-awful day. “So what’s the plan tonight?” Old Chase asks his old friends.

They grunt but don’t answer, so I reach for a beer and I pop the tab.

Alex tries to take it from me. “Coop. You’re not supposed to drink, man.”

I ignore him and hold up my can in a mock toast before taking a gulp. Since Sara, since the arrest, I’m supposed to be clean. I used to go to meetings. I even have a sponsor. Tonight, though, the cool liquid helps me forget everything: Gram, Juliet, Ben.

New Chase tries to stand up and leave. He tries to tell his friends that he has to get back to the dorm and study, paint, hang out with his roommate, anything. But when the guys whistle and point across the street at Juliet, who exits the studio all sweaty and cute with her giant ballet bag, New Chase freezes.

“Hey, baby,” Mike yells. “Wanna hang out?”

Juliet looks at us and catches my eye. She pauses and waits for me to react. I don’t, but the guys catch us staring each other down. As she marches across the street, Paulie asks, “Is she yours, Coop?”

She was last night
. I don’t say anything, but suddenly she’s there. In front of me, us, penetrating the world of Old Chase while my friends grope her with their eyes.

Alex picks up on the tension. “You two know each other?”

When I don’t answer, Juliet does. “We’re friends.”

For some reason, her two words piss me off to no end.
Friends don’t make friends come like you did last night, sweetheart
, Old Chase would have said. The boys look to me for explanation, so I tell them the truth. “She’s in love with my roommate.”

I chug the rest of my beer, expecting Juliet to scurry away, but she doesn’t. She looks right at my boys. “I’m Juliet. You have enough for one more?”

Juliet takes a can, and I try my best to make her uncomfortable, to get her to leave, to embarrass her. But the more I try to push her away, the more fueled she becomes. She sits on the curb and flirts with my friends. She pulls down that gorgeous hair and stretches her legs into the street, her pink ballet tights and short skirt the object of my friends’ attention. Her black, wrap-around sweater thing is tied tightly around her waist and dips low on her chest, and my friends get a nice view of the tits I’d held in my hands the night before. The guys sit mesmerized, laughing at her quips, running their eyes up and down her body, and making inappropriate comments that don’t faze her in the least.

Of course they’re hypnotized by Juliet. She’s fucking awesome.

Sometime during my second or third beer, Alex asks Juliet what a nice girl like her is doing hanging around with “a bum like Coop.”

Juliet reaches out to touch me, and I flinch. I’m teetering on the edge as it is. If she touches me, I’ll lose myself. “I like him,” she says. “But he’s upset with me. He won’t return my texts and it appears he’s not speaking to me.”

“Coop. What’s the problem, man?” Mike asks.

“Yeah, talk to us. Didn’t we teach you to be nice to the ladies? A beautiful girl like Juliet needs a Romeo, not a jerkoff.” When Juliet smiles at him, Paulie winks at her.

I give him a shove. “I don’t have a problem. She’s stalking my roommate, and I’m off women,” I say, hoping to hurt Juliet.

She squats in front of me, looking me right in the face. “Really?” She pauses, her dark eyes searching mine. “Didn’t seem to bother you last night. I’d be happy to explain this morning if you are interested in hearing—”

“Not interested. Really.” Juliet’s colors glow an angry orange as she stares me down. I hold her stare, challenging her, hoping to push her away because I know tomorrow she’ll be with Ben.

“You don’t want him, anyway. He’s banged half your dance class.” Paul teases—
well, half-teases
—trying to ease the tension.

Juliet continues burning orange as the boys laugh at themselves. She holds my gaze and says, “Really.”

Under any other circumstances, I’d be embarrassed by my friends’ words. New Chase begs me to explain to Juliet, but Old Chase headlocks him. I lean toward Juliet. “Yep.” I say, in the best dick voice I can muster.

“You’re an asshole.” She says it quietly so only I can hear, and I know I finally shocked the ballerina. She’s right, too. I am an asshole. Still, the asshole in me wants to reach out and pull her head to mine.

Juliet breaks my stare and looks to the group. “On that note,” she says and pops her lips, “I’m going to get going.” The guys watch her bend to pick up her ballet bag.

“No, don’t leave!” Mike begs. “We’ve got plenty more.”

Juliet does her flirty sexy smirk. “I have to get back. Girl alone on the train in the big bad city and all.”

In a trance, I watch her move away from me, her bag over her shoulder, alone in the night. She shouldn’t be leaving. She should be with me, saying goodnight to the guys and coming back upstairs to my room. In a perfect world—
my
perfect world at least—we’d hang out and talk, make out, get to know each other. But her perfect world doesn’t include me. She shares it with Ben.

“Coop,” Mike says, slapping my arm. “Go walk her to the train.”

“I can’t.” I can never be at the train station with Juliet, ever again.

Thankfully, Paul stands up and follows Juliet. “Wait, honey. I’ll walk you.”

Juliet spins around and gives me the finger before walking off with Paulie. Alex and Mike stare at me. “What?” I bark. “You know my plan. No more women.”

Alex shakes his head. “Dude, you’re fucked up.”

 

Juliet

 

I don’t cry like I want to when I get back to my empty room. Instead, I get pissed.
Fuck Chase Cooper
. He has no right to treat me that way. If he misunderstood something about Ben and me earlier, he should have asked. At least now I’m clear on the fact he’s using me. His friends’ account of his history didn’t seem like the Chase I’d met this week, but hell, what do I know? I’m the idiot who has chased after Ben since forever.

Based on what? The fact he was nice to me?
How fucking pathetic am I? And his, “I can’t shake you” pisses me off even more. For
four years
I waited for him. Now he comes around?

I march to the lounge and pull a Diet Coke from the fridge. The treadmill lingers in my peripheral vision. I sprint back to my room, pull off my skirt, and throw on a pair of yoga pants and sneakers. Pushing in my earbuds to block out the world, I smile, bolt back to the treadmill, and set it to a run.

With each stride, with each beat of music in my ears, I run as if my life depended on it. Sweat pours off me as I pound the belt in a trance. My body screams to stop but my mind won't let it.
Fuck everyone, fuck everyone, fuck everyone
, I think with each step, working out my frustration and nervous energy.

I’m gasping for air when Frank enters the lounge in his drawstring pajama bottoms and nothing else.
What is it with these men and their stupid naked chests all the time?
Every time I walk into a hallway I’m face-to-face with some hot guy's pecs. Maybe a co-ed dorm isn’t a good idea for me. I cringe, thinking about the night before with Chase, the things I'd let him see and do to me. As I remember, my body comes alive.
Damn traitorous hormones
.

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