Turning Grace Page 4

  I slowly maneuvered myself out of the bed, trying desperately not to move too fast. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I stumbled into my bathroom to relieve myself, only to find that I really didn’t need to. I got up and thought twice about turning the light on, instead just trying to focus my eyes in the darkness and look in the mirror. I must have been getting sick. I stared into the mirror and found myself having to hold on to the sink to keep from falling back. I decided to flick the light on anyway, wincing when it felt like shards of glass in my pupils. I gasped.

  My face was almost unrecognizable. The bags under my eyes were sagging down into my caved-in cheeks. My lips were no longer full. They were drooping down, as if someone threw a punch right into them. My eyes were black and sunken in, with veins protruding and pulsating out of the corners. I lifted my head to get a better view of my neck, only to see my skin seemed wrinkled and aged. My hair was thinner, straighter, lifeless. After noticing my best feature was not my best, I couldn’t look any longer. I felt too tired and sick to go get Mom, so I grabbed my cell phone and dialed her number the best I could.

  “Hello?” she asked alarmed, but sleepily.

  I could barely get a word to come out of my mouth.

  “Gracie?” Her voice slowly became frantic.

  Before I could get enough strength to let out the first two letters of a word, she flung open the door to my room, finding me on the floor near my bed. I couldn’t make it all the way.

  “Gracie!” She ran over to me, bending down and wrapping her arms around me to try to lift me up off the floor. I cried out in pain, sensing every inch of my bones feeling as though they are going to crack. I felt light against her, as if she could easily throw me over her shoulder.

  “Sweetie, we have to get some food in you. I should have never let you sleep without dinner! I knew this was going to happen!” Her voice broke with disappointment.

  She walked me down the hall and down the stairs, one step at a time. We got into the kitchen, where she gingerly set me down at the kitchen table. I slumped over to the side, unable to keep myself balanced. The room was spinning now, and agonizing pain shot through every joint, muscle, bone, and inch my of skin. I heaved over when I felt the dreadful ache in my stomach. It felt as though I was hungry, nauseous, and had the worst case of food poisoning all at the same time.

  “It’s okay honey, just try to hold on for one more second. I’m going to give you exactly what you need.” As soon as she let me go, she flew over to the fridge, taking out every container full of food we had. I wanted to yell at her. How could I possibly eat? I felt as though my body was about to turn into soup and splash all over the kitchen floor. I needed to go to the hospital. What was my mom thinking? She was a doctor for crying out loud.

  The words couldn’t even form in my throat. I watched her get every container open and start to bring them over to the table. As soon as I smelled the first whiff of leftover food, my eyes darted over to it. I began to breathe heavily, and all I could think about was what was in front of me. Suddenly, my pain was out of my mind, and though I could still feel my bones becoming more tender and brittle by the second, I didn’t care. All I wanted was what was in front of me. I sat still, focusing on that one container.

  “Okay Gracie, here you go. You can eat.”

  I was aware that my mom was done pulling every bit of ration we had out of the refrigerator, but I didn’t care. I knew she was speaking to me, but I didn’t care. I kept my eyes in one place.

  “Gracie! You need to eat! Now!” she yelled desperately. At that same moment, my hands uncontrollably dug into the container and began a shoveling motion into my mouth. I wasn’t even sure that I was chewing. The smell whirled around my head, colliding with the taste of what I could have sworn to be the first time I had ever tried food. It was as though I didn’t understand what I was doing, but at the same time, understood everything. I wanted that food. I needed that food. Every cell in my body was screaming at me to eat the food.

  I couldn’t stop. I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop. The taste was savory. I could feel every portion of food enter my mouth and slowly make its way down my esophagus and into my stomach. I could feel my stomach welcoming the deliciousness, digesting it, and absorbing the nutrients into my bloodstream. My body slowly awoke with each bite.

  I threw the empty containers to the side when I was finished, continuing on to the next without hesitation. I couldn’t look away. I had to protect what was in front of me. It was mine.

  It was when I was devouring my last container that I felt I had enough control to stop.

  “There you go sweetheart. How do you feel?”

  I suddenly missed my mom’s voice.

  I looked up at her, then down at the empty containers strewn around the kitchen. I glanced down at myself covered in a mess of crumbs, sticky sauce, and an array of colors. My gaze returned to my mother and at that moment, embarrassment and guilt were among the many emotions flowing through me. I wanted to cry.

  “No, no sweetie,” she said softy, sensing my humility. She walked over to my side of the table, sliding her arm over my shoulder as she took in the messy site with me.

  “Mom, I’m so sorry. I just…I didn’t know…” I couldn’t finish my sentence. I was so overwhelmed with what I was seeing.

  “Gracie,” she turned my face toward hers with her finger under my chin. “It’s okay. You feel better, don’t you?”

  I nodded my head, too embarrassed to even speak.

  “Good. That’s all that matters, baby. We fixed it. You were just really hungry. It happens.” The corners of her mouth turned up, easing my emotions somewhat.

  The truth was that my emotions were all over the place. I wasn’t quite sure of what just happened. I knew that I woke up from a nap…well more than a nap obviously. I missed dinner, which I had done in past. But I had never, not even a tiny bit, felt this hungry. I would get dizzy from time to time or tired, but never to this extreme. Never to the point where my body felt as though it were becoming mush or slowly deteriorating. Never to the point where I had to eat thirty pounds of food to regain any sense of strength back. And certainly never to the point where I had absolutely no control over what I was doing.

  “Come on, Gracie. Let’s get you into the shower.” Mom seemed mysteriously calm. Her daughter just consumed almost every item the refrigerator could hold. I looked back at the disaster as we made our way up the stairs. Yup, pretty much everything in the refrigerator.

  Mom helped me shower, as I was still a little distraught from the whole situation. My body felt amazing, though… like it never even happened. But my mind was in other places. The dream, the terrible stab-like pains exuding through my body, the hollowness of my face, Mom’s guilt of not waking me to have dinner, the spinning, the sweet and satisfying taste of the leftovers, the aftermath…Tristen.

  “Mom, what’s today?” I asked, suddenly having the feeling of forgetting something, similar to when one leaves on a road trip and swears they may have left the oven on.

  “It’s Thursday morning, sweetie,” she said as she wrapped the towel around my naked body.

  “It’s what!” I threw my towel on the floor and rushed to my closest.

  “Grace, what’s wrong?” she asked with concern.

  “It’s Thursday! I have a date with Tristen and I haven’t picked out what I am going to wear!” I knew I seemed a bit melodramatic at the moment, but this was important. I actually worked it out in my head over the past two days. There was a lot of truth in Phoebe’s theory of boys being attracted to chicks who show off a little. I was not completely sure that Tristen had even thought of me in the way I thought of him. If I were to dress a little…sexy, his reaction would speak volumes. If he were to simply see me and there not be any kind of eyebrow raise or staring or a look from head to toe, then I would know that he was just not interested. But if he did do any of those things, then I would at least know that I had peaked his interest. I would at least know that he didn’t think th
at I was just some nerd tutoring him.

  “You have a date with him?” she asked as she sat on the edge of my bed. I knew she wouldn’t like this.

  “Well, it’s not a date, Mom. I told you, I’m just tutoring him,” I said, rummaging through my closet.

  “You said date. Grace, I told you I didn’t think this was a good idea. Why doesn’t he just ask his teacher to help him?”

  I shot her a look. “Because, Mom, he asked me. Why is this such a bad thing? I want to help him. He asked me because I am smart. Why can’t I share that? Why can’t I do something nice for someone?”

  I thought that my little daring remark might finally make her understand how important this was to me, but I knew my mother better than that. She was never wrong about her intuitions. And deep down inside, I knew she was right.

  She sat in silence for a few moments. I turned back around in a desperate search of something even remotely sexy. My wardrobe consisted of comfortable, laid-back attire. This was going to be tough.

  “You know what Gracie, you are right.”

  I froze.

  “You should be able to help someone who is in need. But you will tutor him here.”

  I swung my body around to face her. “Well, what if he wants me to go to his house?”

  “Then you will tell him to come here instead.”

  “Why are you so adamant about this? I get that you think this is a bad idea. To even be tutoring him when he has a girlfriend, but why must I be here?”

  She stood up and walked over to me. She grabbed my face gently with both her hands.

  “Because, Gracie, it is a bad idea. This situation has the potential of hurting someone. Someone will get hurt. You are becoming a woman, and soon you will be making your own decisions, but as long as you are under my roof, I will protect you from whatever I can. He will come here. And that is final.”

  She kissed me on my forehead and left my room.

  If this moment were a cartoon, steam would be bursting out of my ears. How could she be so irrational? I’m seventeen years old. I absolutely could make my own decisions. Mom had never been this way with me before. Well, I had never been in a “situation” like this before. Maybe she did know what she was saying. Maybe she had been there, done that.

  No. She was being ridiculous.

  I glanced at the clock. I had an hour and a half before I should start getting ready for school. I continued on with my search for the right outfit. I settled on a tight-fitting, long-sleeved shirt, skinny jeans, and ankle boots with a slight heel. It was not a midriff or a cleavage-baring blouse, but it would have to do. I couldn’t seem to bring myself to show too much skin. I didn’t have the boobs, and I certainly didn’t have the guts to let it all hang out like Phoebe did. With the way I was feeling at that moment, the necessity to be sexy left my mind. I should have been exhausted with the morning that I had, but my body was totally normal; if anything, better. Mom did not seem the least bit worried about my behavior in the kitchen. I would have to discuss that with her, but I was certainly keeping my distance for at least rest of the day. I was pissed with her.

  After throwing on my “sexy” outfit, I made my way to my bathroom to figure out what to do with my hair and makeup. Surely I would need to cake on the makeup with the way I looked.

  A gasp escaped my throat when I glanced into the mirror. What happened to my face? It was not at all the horrific sight from earlier that morning. My color was back and my eyes returned to their natural shade of light brown, but I just looked… I looked…older? The sprinkles of freckles around my nose were a shade darker and I had creases around my mouth. I pinched my checks and they didn’t spring back. I did have a rough night, and although I felt amazing, my appearance may not have caught up with me.

  I shrugged it off and continued my quest to wow Tristen.

  I made my way downstairs. Mom was in the kitchen cleaning up the mess I made.

  “Gracie, are you hungry? I can make some breakfast for you before you go.”

  Although it did sound tempting, I informed her that I wasn’t very hungry. How could I be? “I will just take some pomegranate juice,” I said as I reached into the fridge.

  “Okay, well I just made some last night. It’s fresh.” Mom knew I was upset with her, and her tone seemed as though she was refraining from speaking to me any further. We had never really gotten into an argument before, and feeling the tension that was between us was uncomfortable.

  I just needed some time to cool off, and we would be fine.

  Chapter 4

  The Invitation

  “Whoa!” Phoebe yelled from across the street.

  “It’s that bad?” I asked, suddenly feeling extremely self-conscious.

  “No! You look awesome Grace Watkins!” She spun me around, smacking my butt when I made a full turn. “Tristen is so gonna love this.”

  “Well, I sort of took your advice.”

  “Your hair is flawless, as always. Good choice to leave it down. And you have makeup on? Oh my, I can’t wait to see Sonny’s face.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. I tried to make myself believe I didn’t care what Sonny thought, but deep down I wanted her to see what I was capable of.

  “So, have you thought about how you are going to seduce him tonight?” she asked, adding a little shimmy to her step.

  “Phoebe!” Blood flowed up to my cheeks. “Come on. It’s not like that. He is just coming over to study. Nothing more.”

  “Right. Okay. You know he’s gonna think you’re hot, G. You’re hotter than she is.” Phoebe’s matter-of-fact expression came out.

  “Well, it doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not trying to seduce him or steal him away. He’s a big boy, he can make his own decisions. I’m just trying to…help sway his decision a bit.” And that was the truth. I didn’t want to be known as The Boyfriend Snatcher, especially for my own safety from Sonny. I knew that if my plan to make him notice me did cause a break up and he ended up with me, I ran the risk of gaining that title. But I wasn’t necessarily “stealing” him from her. If he truly loved her, he would stay with her.

  Was it worth the risk? Was it worth getting dirty looks from Sonny and her Minions every day for the rest of the school year? Well, I already did. So what did I have to lose? I knew I would be gaining something…and it was something I had wanted for a long time.

  “Well, it’s gonna work. Trust me.”

  I smiled.

  “So, Eric asked me out, finally. It only took forever, but I think he might be a keeper.”

  “You’ve said that before, and you ended up getting your heart broken.”

  “G, he is so amazing. He’s a freshman in college, so he’s much more mature than some of these idiots at our school. He’s funny, hot, smart, hot, a great dresser…oh did I say hot?”

  I chuckled and stopped to face her. Her eyes were doughy-eyed and clearly, she was on cloud nine.

  “Phoebe, I know. I have heard this before. But, you always end up getting hurt. Maybe you should slow down before becoming exclusive. Find out who he really is instead of only focusing on the exterior.”

  “Grace, he is a good guy. I promise you.”

  I grabbed her shoulders and thought about shaking her. “I just worry about my best friend. I don’t want anyone to hurt you, Phoebe. But you know if he does, I’m here, right? No matter how many times this has already happened.”

  She hugged me tight and whispered into my ear, “That’s why you’re my best friend.”

  My nerves were beginning to get the best of me when we came into view of our school. I couldn’t decide if it was because I was nervous of Tristen’s or the rest of the school’s reaction to my subtle makeover. I never made such an effort. School dances were one thing. You were expected to show up in dresses and heels. You never really stood out because everyone was trying their hardest too. But this was not normal for me. The only people who truly made fashion statements were Sonny and her Gang of Clones.

  Before we made our
way up the main entrance, Phoebe turned toward me. “You look great, G. Don’t worry. He will notice.”

  I smiled nervously and fought to believe her kind words.

  “By the way, not only do you look great, but you look so…mature.”

  I frowned for a split second before forcing a smile. I was hoping no one would notice except me. I didn’t exactly want to fill Phoebe in on what happened last night. It was a bad experience, and I did not want to have to find a way to explain the only thing that made me feel better, which was ingesting an obscene amount of food. Not to mention, it was embarrassing.

  “Are you trying to say I look old?” I asked, attempting to respond with humor.

  “No way! Looking mature is actually really sexy.”

  “Well let’s hope Tristen thinks the same.”

  The first half of the day was uneventful. To my surprise, Sonny and her Chain Gang were absent from their usual spot at the main entrance, where they critique everyone not worthy, and I hadn’t seen Tristen all day. Anxiety began to set in when I realized that he may not be here today. Did he forget about our date? I mean…tutoring session? Did I make all of this effort for nothing? Was I an idiot to get my hopes up for something that I should have known was never going to happen?

  I fidgeted and became flustered in my civics class during a debate. It was then that my thoughts became melodramatic…and outlandish. Was he purposely avoiding me? Was this whole asking me to help him study thing a prank? Something from a movie where his best friend bets him to ask out the desperate girl who clearly had a ginormous crush on him? Does Sonny have something to do with his disappearance? Was she mysteriously gone today too because she murdered him for asking me to help him?