She Laughs in Pink (Sheridan Hall #1) (29 page)

Chase.

I had a feeling he’d be here, somewhere. I watch him disappear toward the train station—our train station—and turn back to the others.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chase

I walk back to the apartment after Juliet’s speech. I can’t believe she was ever mine to lose. Even though it’s freezing outside, I sit on my stoop and look to the sky. My pulse slows, and I become aware of my breathing.

Without looking, I know she’s there.

“You really are in bad shape.” Her soft voice is musical and soothing. “What the heck happened to your face?”

I smile. My jaw throbs. “Ben’s fist happened to my face. What can I do for you, Pooja Pravali?”

“You can invite me in,” she answers, pointing at the door. “It’s fucking cold out here.”

I stand and wave a hand toward the door. She follows me up the stairs. Inside, she sits on my living room couch, flipping through a pile of canvases of Juliet. “They’re beautiful, Chase. You really see her.”

“She was amazing tonight. Did you see it?”

“I did. I saw you, too.”

“Thanks for not outing me. What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be with Juliet?”

“I wanted to be around you. You know, because you’re like me.”

I smile at her crookedly. “Not really.” I sit on the couch next to her. “I’ve never been in tune like you.”

“I thought maybe being with you would give me better insight.” She stops at the picture of Juliet in purple.

I touch her knee. “I know you’ve probably heard this a million times before, but none of this is your fault, Pravali.”

“I wondered if you thought it was. I mean, I do have the gift. Shouldn’t I have seen this? I had the dream. I could have done more. I should have made them all leave.”

“You aren’t a superhero.” I lean back on the couch, watching Pooja look through my paintings. “You can’t put the weight of the world on your shoulders. Gift or no gift.”

“What’s the sense in having the gift if I can’t use it?”

“If that’s the case, then this whole thing is actually my fault, too.”

Pooja freezes and looks to me. “How could it be your fault?”

I grab her hand. “I had a dream the night before the shooting, when Juliet was with me. I dreamt she was about to jump off a cliff. Frank saved her. Ben was there too.”

“Oh, Chase,” she breathes, her body sagging. Pooja understands dreams more than I do.

“In the morning, I had a terrible feeling in my gut. I didn’t want Juliet to leave. I blamed it on my fear that she’d go back to Ben and never come back to me. Maybe I sensed the shooting—the whole damn thing—and I let her go anyway. I should have made her stay with me.”

“You know that’s not true. This isn’t on you.”

“Well it’s no more on me than it is on you. So give yourself a break.” I’m trying to be strong for Pooja, but really, I’ve thought about that dream a lot. Maybe if I had been more tuned in to the gift, none of this would have happened.

Pooja sighs. “I’m going to have to testify at the trial. Juliet. Ben, maybe even Rocco…all of us. I don’t know how we’re going to do it. I’m going to have to tell them about the kidnapping. Juliet’s going to have to…”

She obviously doesn’t know that I know a bit about what happened. “You’ll all get through it fine. Those three—Juliet, Ben, and Rocco—are the three strongest people I know. That fucker will go to prison forever. He’ll never hurt any of you again. I hate to tell you this, Pooj, but…”

“What?” She tilts her head, studying me.

“You need to man up, baby.”

I know my choice of words will elicit a reaction, and she doesn’t disappoint. “You mean, woman up, don’t you?”

“Well, whatever. I wouldn’t want to offend your goddesses, but when we deal with the tough guys like Rocco and Ben and Juliet, we can’t be wimps.” We smile at each other.

“The tough guys.” She shakes her head. “They’re like the X-Men or the Justice League.”

I tug a strand of her long, dark hair. “If you think that, you’ve been hanging around Rodrigo and Winston too long.”

Pooja grins again, and it’s like medicine. “It’s nice to see you smile. It helps.”

“Juliet tells me that every time I feel like shit over this, Cameron wins again.”

“She’s a smart woman.”

“She is. But no matter what everyone says, I can’t seem to keep it together. I don’t know what I’d do without Rocco and Juliet. I’m so glad I didn’t get on that flight back to San Diego after the shooting.”

“How is Roc?”

Pooja sighs. “Not so great. I think he’s using every ounce of energy to take care of me and Juliet.”

My chest tightens. “How is she, Pooja? I mean, how is she really?”

“You know how she is. She’s tough. But she certainly didn’t need you breaking her heart after all we went through.”

That’s just like Pooja, telling it like it is. She’s right though. “I let her down.”

“Kind of. Don’t get me started on how she walked in on you and Sara the day of Frank’s memorial. I told her you were an asshole. Sorry about that.” She cringes and hides her face in her hands.

“Just for the record, Sara and I didn’t do anything.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“And please don’t apologize. I
am
an asshole.”

“You’re not. You’re figuring things out, like the rest of us.” Pooja turns to face me. “Juliet loves you, you know.”

I shake my head. “When I saw her at Frank’s grave, she told me it’s over. She said I’d given up, so she was giving up, too. I don’t blame her.”

“Maybe it’s not about her giving up on you. Maybe it’s about you fighting for the both of you.”

I lean my head back on the couch and run my fingers through my hair. “Tell me what to do, Pravali, and I’ll do it.”

“Well for one thing, stop getting drunk and doing drugs with your ex,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Done. I’m back in AA. I have Rob here helping me stay straight. I told Sara I can’t be around her. Still, I don’t know if that’s enough.”

“Because you’re lost.”

“I am.”

“When you’re lost, how do you find yourself?” She leans over and kisses me on the cheek, then pulls a painting of Juliet from the floor. “I’m going to borrow this one,” she says, inspecting it. She winks at me and heads for the door.

Art. I need to paint. I need to paint for Frank, for Juliet, for Ben, for Pooja.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Juliet

On Christmas morning, I wake up early and raid the pantry for pancake mix. I fire up the stove, find the griddle, and heat it up as I mix the ingredients. My parents don’t come downstairs until the coffee brews.

“Coffee?” my mom says, dragging herself into the kitchen. I point the spatula at the pot.

“All brewed and ready,” I say.

Dad is right behind her. “Do I smell pancakes?” He stands behind me and looks over my shoulder, then kisses my cheek. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas.”

“We haven’t had pancakes on Christmas since…” my mom starts.

I sigh.
Here we go.
“Justine. Not since Justine. You’d sneak down early and the smell would wake us up.”

Mom tears up and turns her back to me. “Sit,” I order them.

They do. The table is already set, and I neatly stack a few pancakes for them.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Dad touches my hand as I pour him a cup of coffee. “It’s nice to have you home.” I know he’ll never be the type of dad to pull me into his arms and squeeze me, but I appreciate his gesture.

I join them at the table. “Well, it’s not nice to be home.”

Mom recoils at my words. “Excuse me?”

I take a deep breath and start clawing my way out. “Ever since Justine died, I don’t feel welcome in my own home. Since the dorm is closed, for now, I don’t really have a choice but to be here. And I’m sorry if you don’t want me here.”

“We never said that!” My father grabs my shoulder. “How can you think such a thing?”

I cross my arms over my chest, shrugging him away. “Because I know. I know that you blame me for Justine’s death. I know she was the smart one, the better one, the one who would never disappoint you. But I’ve realized something since the shooting, and I’m not sure if you realize it.”

I pause as my parents stare, waiting. I shake my head as I talk. “I didn’t kill her. I didn’t. As much as I blame myself for putting us in that situation, I didn’t kill her. And I’m done with feeling like I did.”

“Sweetheart, we never blamed you.” Dad’s eyes water and he touches my shoulder again. “I’m so sorry that you thought we did.”

Mom stays silent. I know she blames me, even if he doesn’t. I turn to her.

“Mom, Justine’s dead. And whatever you’re thinking about me, all the horrible things, I’ve already thought them about myself—every day for the last four years. But we have to make a choice.”

Dad stands, grabs a tissue box off the counter, and hands it to my mother, who silently wipes her tears. I continue, “We have to choose to live. We still have each other. I know I’m not her, but I’m all you have now. Do you want to lose me, too? Because I don’t want to lose you.”

I lean toward my mother and grab her hands. I want her to yell at me, or bawl, or hug me, or something, but she doesn’t. She sits there ,still as a statue.

I drop her hands, and Dad follows me out of the kitchen. “Juliet,” he calls after me. I stop, and he pulls me into a hug. “We love you. So much. I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. I know your mother is, too. She’ll get back to you, I promise.”

I shake my head. I know it’s the most he can give me now. “Okay, Daddy.” I don’t mean to make him feel bad. “I love you, too.”

I drag myself to my bedroom and do what I always do in Evander after I’ve had a conversation with my parents—I call Ben.

Ben picks me up at noon and brings me to the Riley house, or as I like to call it, the Riley Madhouse. It’s total chaos, with wall-to-wall Rileys of all ages. There’s food, animals, music, and gift wrap everywhere. As soon as I walk in, Nathan, one of Ben’s four brothers, is all over me.

“Juliet Anderson, aren’t you looking fine?” He scans my body, and I think about kneeing him in the groin. “When are you going to go out with me?”

“Um, never?” I cringe but wind up smiling.

“Can I feel you up, at least?” Nathan winks, and Ben smacks him on the back of the head.

“Not today, but thanks for the offer.” Within seconds of arriving, I’ve forgotten that I’m an Anderson with my terribly dysfunctional family. Now, I’m a Riley in the middle of their sweet crazy.

Mrs. Riley, wearing an apron over her red holiday dress, walks over to give me a hug. “Merry Christmas, Juliet.” She pats me on the back. “Sorry about Nathan. I took antibiotics when I was pregnant with him.”

I chuckle and Nathan whines. “Ma, quit telling people that!”

I smack Nathan on the arm and turn to Mrs. Riley. “Thanks for letting me hang out.”

“The more, the merrier,” she sings as an oven timer buzzes. “You’re always welcome here.”

One by one, the Rileys greet me, their faces lighting up as they wish me Merry Christmas. They’ve been my surrogate family for four years, and since the shooting they’ve seen more and more of me. Grandma Riley asks Ben when he’s going to marry me and make me an honest woman.

Ben dodges the question. “Ma,” he yells into the kitchen, “Grandma Riley needs her meds.”

We all laugh, but Grandma Riley doesn’t let him off the hook. “Well, Sam’s married and George is getting married. That makes you next.”

Nathan yells from the dining room table, where he’s stuffing his face, “What about me? And Evan?” Ben’s the youngest of the Riley boys.

“You’ll never get married, Nathan, because you’re a playboy,” Grandma Riley says, pointing a crooked, wrinkled finger at Nate. “And Evan’s too good-looking. He scares the girls away. They all think he’s gay.”

“Mother!” Mr. Riley’s jaw drops, and the boys all laugh.

Just then, Evan walks into the room, and I try to remember to breathe. He’s a god. Seriously, perhaps the best-looking man on the planet. “I’m saving myself, Grandma,” he says in his swoony voice, “for the right girl. Like they did in the old days.”

“You’re the best one,” Grandma says, pointing a finger at him.

“Hey!” Ben yells.

She waves at Ben. “You, too.”

“I’m so confused,” Nathan whines.

Before I know it, dinner is being served and everyone’s laughing and happy around the table. I sit next to Ben’s sister-in-law, Sam, who’s married to Ben’s brother Sam and is pregnant with the first of the next Riley generation. They keep teasing that they’re also going to name the baby Sam. She asks me how I’m doing since the shooting.

“I’m trying to be better.” I don’t know what else to say, so I take a sip of my water.

“Ben, too, I think.” She smiles across the table at Ben, then turns back to me. “He tells me you’re in love with his roommate.”

I spit out my drink and start to choke, drawing all eyes to me. “I’m okay.” They all look away, except Ben.

“He told you that?” I whisper to Sam out of Ben’s earshot. When he realizes I’m not going to choke to death, he turns back to the other side of the table.

She nods. “He’s learning to accept it. It’s okay, you know. You don’t have to worry about him.”

I will always worry about Ben. “Ben’s the easiest thing in my life. He’s my rock.”

“And Chase?” She smirks and raises her eyebrows.

I pull my hair and groan, “Arrrggghhh.”

Sam laughs. “Yep. That’s what love feels like.”

“Is it? Like I want to scream and wring his neck and kiss him all at the same time?”

“Yep.”

“Ugh. Maybe I’ll try girls.”

Sam laughs. “Nathan will be so disappointed.”

We laugh around the table for hours as Evan sets down platter after platter of food. He insists on keeping his mother seated. “She did all the cooking, so it’s the least I can do,” he says. Honestly, Evan’s a dream. I sigh and think about someone to set him up with.

In between dinner and dessert, I check my phone. Everyone texted their well-wishes, except for Chase.
How is he doing today without his grandmother? Has he told Rob that he’s his son? Is he spending the holiday with Sara?
I start to tap out a text to him, but then erase it. None of the words look right on the screen, so I take my phone into the back den and call him.

He doesn’t answer, so I leave him a message. “Hi. I was thinking about you and wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas. I…” The words aren’t right so my voice quivers. I hear myself say, “And that’s it.” I end the call.

Back in the living room, the Rileys’ dog, Busterina, is stuck in the Christmas tree and Ben and his cousins are trying to free her. I shake my head and walk to the kitchen to help Mrs. Riley put out the desserts.

When the doorbell rings, we all stop what we’re doing and stare.

“Aren’t we all here already?” Mrs. Riley points and counts the people in her house, while Ben jogs to the door and opens it.

A familiar set of purple eyes scans the room and land on mine.

Chase

When I find Juliet in the crowded room, her eyes widen. Suddenly, I can’t remember how to talk. I think I may be sweating.

Ben saves me. “C. C.! Come in.”

“Sorry to bother you all on Christmas.”
What the fuck am I doing?
I run my hands through my hair and shift in the doorway until Ben pulls me in.

Mrs. Riley meets me at the front door and pulls me into a hug. “Chase, come in sweetie. You’re just in time for dessert.” Since the first time I’d met her, she’s always hugged and fawned over me like this.
She considers all boys her sons
, Ben had said.

Upon witnessing Mama Riley’s approval, everyone goes back to whatever they were doing—except Juliet. I find myself moving toward her as I talk to Ben. “I know I’m barging in, and this isn’t the smoothest move. I have to talk to—”

“Jules, yeah, I figured that’s why you’re here.”

It dawns on me that I’m being I’m a prick. I shake my head. “I know it’s a dick move. I’ll go if you want.”

“No, no,” Ben says, patting me on the back. “I think she needs to talk to you, too.”

I hesitate, thinking he’s setting me up for another punch.

“It’s okay, really. I’m good.” Ben nods. “Make her happy, okay?”

I’m not sure she’ll even talk to me. “I…I’ll try. I’m no you, though.”

Ben scoffs. “Consider yourself lucky. I have to go untangle my dog from a tree.” He points toward Juliet. “Go.”

Juliet turns away from me and walks around the giant table, setting down forks. She’s wearing black pants and boots and a tight red shirt. Her hair hangs loose down her shoulders. “Hey,” I say to her back. “Merry Christmas.” I jam my hands into my pockets and wait.

She stops moving and turns to face me. “What are you doing here?”

I smile. She’s nothing if not direct. “I came for you.”

She squints at me and continues around the table. “I thought we’d decided this wasn’t going to work.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to that.” When she turns to me again, I smirk.

“Really?” Sarcasm drips from her voice. I shrug, and she walks up to me, crossing her arms over her chest. “What do you want, Chase?”

I think about it for a second, then decide on honesty. “You.” I take a step closer and twist a strand of her hair around my finger. “I want you to come with me.”

She jerks away, and her hair slides through my fingers. “Where?”

“I have to show you something.”

“What?”

“It’s a surprise. Come with me.”

I can’t stop the grin. Juliet loves surprises, and I’m certain I’ve convinced her until she snaps at me. “No.”

“No?” I shift, not sure I heard her correctly. I hadn’t factored a “no” into my plan. “Why no?”

She shakes her head. “Because I’m confused, and I don’t get you.”

I reach for her hands and she lets me hold them. “I’ll un-confuse you then. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been such a complete asshole. I’m sorry about the things I said at my grandmother’s funeral. I’m sorry about missing Frank’s service. I’m sorry for everything. Please, come with me.”

“Where?” she asks again, more gently this time. “If you don’t tell me, I’m not going.”

“School, okay? Does that mean you’ll come?”

Juliet squints hard at me then turns away. She walks over to the group to talk with Ben. He says something, she listens, they hug, and she comes back to me.

“Fine. I’ll go.” She lifts her chin, and I see the fire in her eyes. “I have to call my parents and get my coat.”

“I’ll wait for you outside, gorgeous.” She scoffs and grimaces, but I beam at her. I thank the Rileys, and Ben walks me out.

The three-hour car ride from Evander is the perfect opportunity to keep Juliet as my captive audience. I don’t know where to start to explain the mess that’s been my life, so I decide to simply go down the list. “I’m not eighteen like the rest of you. I’m nineteen. I spent the year after high school in outpatient rehab. I have a problem…an addiction problem…with alcohol and pills. Gram secretly applied to NJU’s art program on my behalf and applied for the scholarship. She forged my name on the application and wrote my essays. She submitted that painting, the one over my mantle, and checked the mail everyday waiting for the response.”