Turning Grace Page 5

  I sat down at my desk in calculus, keeping an eye on the door. Still no Tristen.

  When the bell rang for lunch, those thoughts quickly dissipated. I was starving, and I needed to eat.

  I met Phoebe at our usual spot in the courtyard to begin my feast. As we sat and ate, Phoebe beamed when she talked about Eric and his amazing body. I tried to listen, but found myself nonchalantly scanning the courtyard for any sign of Tristen. My disappointment settled deeper and deeper. After she finished her gushing, she noticed my melancholy and reassured me that he will show to meet me after school. I appreciated her effort.

  The final bell of the day rang, and I ominously made my way to my locker to collect my books. I opened my locker door and immediately wished I didn’t have a mirror hanging inside. I stared at myself, feeling like the biggest loser alive. I suddenly felt the incredible urge to wash my face. Stupid makeup! I hated wearing makeup! How could I have been so naive as to think that caking on layers of processed, pimple-causing gunk would make the most popular, most beautiful guy at Middleton High like me?

  I knew it was too good to be true.

  I grabbed a tissue and began to scrub. I couldn’t scrub hard enough. It had to come off!

  “Uh…Grace?”

  My heart skipped a beat. I stopped and peeked around my locker door.

  “You okay?”

  “Um, uh…yeah…I just…can you give me just one second?” I glanced in the mirror in horror. The stupid mascara was smeared all over my face! I looked like a raccoon! I desperately scrubbed till it hurt. Then his hand grabbed my locker door and pushed it out of the way.

  “Listen, are you still available this afternoon?”

  “Um, yeah, definitely. Did you still need help?” I asked, trying to make it seem like I wasn’t eagerly awaiting his arrival all day long.

  “I really do. We have a test tomorrow and I can’t fail it. So, are you ready now?”

  “Sure, I was just grabbing my books. Um…we can go to my house, if that’s okay?” I asked, remembering my fight with Mom. I was still pissed.

  “That sounds good. My car is in the shop right now, do you live far? I can get my mom to bring us.”

  “No, I live a few blocks away. We can walk.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up. “Absolutely, the weather is perfect for a walk.”

  It was as if I could feel my heart melting like a candle slowly burning away the wax. I didn’t respond and instead proceeded to grab my books and shut my locker door. When we exited the double doors into the breezeway, he stopped suddenly.

  “Hey, you have something under your eye.”

  Before I could fathom up a lame excuse for the disaster on my face he was obviously talking about, he raised his hand and gently glided his thumb under my eye. I stood still, unable to move. I watched his face as he gingerly tried to clean me up.

  “There you go.” His voice was soft. “Much better.”

  His arm fell to his side and we stood for a moment in silence. The fall breeze made its way through our hair and through the few inches that were between us. He gave me a half smile and took a step forward. Amazingly, my feet mimicked his and we began our stroll through the cool, brisk air to my house.

  We walked in an awkward silence for the first block, with only the sound of my heels.

  “So, have you lived here long?” he asked.

  “Uh, yeah. I was in the third grade when we moved here. You?” That was a stupid question. Everyone knew he started Middleton at the beginning of sophomore year and was from Oregon. Stupid.

  He chuckled as if he were reading my mind.

  “My dad got a job offer the summer before sophomore year. So we just left Oregon and came here.”

  “Do you miss home?” Another stupid question. Of course he missed his hometown.

  “Yeah, I do. But, this place is amazing. Oregon was so…bland. It’s fun here. Everyone gets so excited about Mardi Gras and football. Not to mention everyone is so friendly. I had to get used to giving people a hug and a kiss whenever we see them or say goodbye.”

  I giggled. “It grows on you. It becomes a natural reflex after a while.”

  “So, where did you move from?” he asked.

  “Um…California. My mom switched jobs and said she wanted to get away from the busy life. I don’t remember L.A. much, though.”

  Tristen suddenly grabbed my arm when I clearly didn’t realize we were walking onto a busy intersection. His touch was warm.

  “I’ve been to L.A. It wasn’t bad. I’m kind of a movie junkie so being in Hollywood was exciting.”

  Another plus. It was no secret that horror flicks were my favorite. Mom hated my obsession to blood and gore.

  “What kind of movies do you like?” My stomach knotted in anticipation of his answer.

  “Um, I like everything. Action, cause, well…I’m a guy,” he smiled. “And probably…scary movies. They just don’t make them like they used to.”

  “That’s what I say!” My voice shot up a few more octaves than I wanted. I blushed. He looked over at me and smiled sweetly.

  “I mean, horror movies are great,” I said, lowering my tone.

  “What’s your favorite?”

  “Uh…that’s tough. I would have to say, the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre.”

  “You have to admit, the remake was pretty good. Jessica Biel was very persuasive…and hot,” he stated.

  “Of course! I’m surprised any guy could even pay attention to the actual movie with her running around in a wet, white t-shirt and tight jeans,” I teased.

  “Oh, so you noticed too?”

  I laughed before I stopped abruptly.

  Tristen had walked a few steps ahead before he realized I was not beside him anymore. He turned around. “Grace?”

  I looked around and sucked in the air through my nose. I wasn’t quite sure, but I could suddenly smell something familiar. Smokey and sweet smells filled my lungs, and my stomach began to growl. I glanced at Tristen and realized he was patiently waiting for me to say something.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah…yes. Sorry. I just…I just remembered something I had to do for homework.” If I’d told him the truth, he would probably think I was nuts.

  We were a block away from my house when my stomach began to feel like it was eating itself. The smell was stronger with every step we took, and I had to struggle to resist the urge to run till I found the source of it. Tristen didn’t say another word. We walked in silence until we reached my house.

  When I opened the door, it was as if the smell slapped me across my face. Tristen followed and quietly shut the door behind him.

  “Mom!” I called out.

  “In the kitchen, dear!”

  I walked into the kitchen. My jaw dropped and my stomach flipped.

  “Hi Gracie. I made some snacks for your tutoring session. I’m sure you must be hungry.” She quickly came to kiss my cheek and returned to her task of bringing dishes full of food to the table. I looked over at Tristen and his eyes popped open.

  “Wow!”

  My face flushed.

  “Uh, Mom, this is more like dinner…for a family of ten,” I stated.

  “Oh, Gracie. It’s fine. Come. Sit and eat.” She pulled out two chairs at the kitchen table and looked over to us. Tristen immediately made his way over.

  “And you must be Tristen,” she said with a hint of sour. I wasn’t sure if Tristen caught it, but I did.

  “Yes, ma’am. Very nice to meet you.” He quickly kissed her on the cheek before taking a seat. I could tell he was still not used to kissing total strangers. My mom gave him a slight smile then looked over to me.

  “Are you going to sit, Grace?”

  I stood there, not sure of what I was supposed to do. My stomach was tearing open my insides as the seconds went by with the sights and smells of all the food. Tristen would be absolutely disgusted if he knew that I could eat every last bit of food on this table, and still have room for
dessert. Oh, but it smelled so good.

  Plates were filled with mini roast beef and turkey sandwiches, fried chicken tenders, tiny meatballs, stuffed mushrooms, and oh gosh…my favorite…bacon-grits fritters.

  “Honey, you should really sit and get started on studying. You don’t want to be working all night long,” Mom insisted.

  I finally made the decision to sit down, gazing into my mother’s eyes as I sat. Why would she do this to me? I couldn’t shake the feeling of sabotage.

  Tristen looked over at me and smiled, clearly oblivious to what I was thinking, but completely in awe of my mother’s “southern hospitality”.

  “Okay, you kids get started on your work while I fix your plates. Tristen, what would you like to drink?” Mom asked as she walked over to the fridge.

  “I will take water, please.” He was so polite.

  “I will take my usual, Mom. Oh, hey,” I looked over to Tristen. “You should try my mom’s famous pomegranate juice.”

  “Oh darn! I only have enough for one glass,” she said immediately as she poured the last drop into a glass. I looked at her face, confused. I could have sworn she said she made a fresh pitcher last night.

  “Well, you can have mine,” I said to Tristen.

  His brows furrowed. “No, you love it. You should have it.” He smiled wide showing his gloriously white teeth. I blushed and looked over to my mom who had a smile on her face as well. Maybe she would see that he was a good guy worth fighting for.

  A pain shot across my stomach and I winced. I looked over at the food and began telling myself that I could do this. I could eat a normal amount of food. I couldn’t understand why I felt so unbelievably hungry over the past few days, but I forced myself to push those thoughts out of my head. I had to focus on keeping my secret from Tristen. At least for now. There was no way that a girl who could eat pounds of food in one sitting was at all attractive.

  “Here you go, kids,” Mom said while setting our glasses on the table. She then took our plates and began filling them with a sample from every dish. My serving seemed noticeably larger than Tristen’s. Hopefully he didn’t notice.

  “Here, you can try some. I promise that you will love it,” I said, reaching over to hand Tristen my glass. Before Tristen could grab hold of it, Mom fell into my arm and the glass slipped out of my hands. It smashed onto the kitchen floor, sweet, sweet juice splattering all over.

  “Oh…oh my God… Gracie I am so sorry!”

  “Are you okay, Ms. Watkins?” Tristen asked, reaching out a hand to keep her steady. I couldn’t help the grin slowly sweeping across my face for Tristen’s concern.

  “Yes, thank you Tristen. My foot must have caught the leg of the chair. I’m okay.” She stood up, seeming a bit embarrassed for her clumsiness. Mom was never usually clumsy. She was always very poised and well-coordinated. I have never known my mother to clumsily miss her footing or anything even close.

  “I’m so sorry, Gracie. I will make some more tonight. Let me just clean this up and you two can continue on with your studying. Eat up.” She grabbed a kitchen towel as we took out our books and notepads.

  Tristen began eating some of what was on his plate. I, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to sneak my plate off into the bathroom to swallow everything whole. My stomach was beginning to cave inward and I knew it was only a matter of time before the room would start spinning and I would feel queasy.

  I watched as Tristen casually grabbed a chicken tender and took a bite while he thumbed through his textbook searching for the chapter we were studying. I opened my textbook, and mimicked his casualness. The salty, fried, delicious creation melted into my taste buds and I briefly closed my eyes in pure satisfaction. I focused on chewing instead of swallowing it whole; that was until my stomach felt as though it was reaching into my throat to grab and pull it down. I peeked over at Tristen, who was now reading over his notes. I could do this.

  Mom finished cleaning up the horrible death of my favorite juice and left the room. I swallowed hard, thinking of something clever to say to Tristen.

  “So, what did you guys do today in class?”

  He beat me to it. Thank God.

  “Oh, we just went over some of the stuff from earlier in the week. So…where were you today?” I asked. A little forthcoming, but I deserved to know considering he tortured me all day long.

  He was in the middle of chewing his food and gave a throaty chuckle as if he were letting me know he was sorry he couldn’t answer right away. I studied his jaw line as he chewed quickly to answer my question. It was strong and softly curved into his chin.

  He swallowed and smiled.

  “Sorry. Uh…I had to go to a doctor’s appointment,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “Oh…are you okay,” I asked, genuinely hoping there was not something wrong.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. It wasn’t my appointment.”

  I suddenly realized who it was for as I put two and two together, remembering that Sonny was not at school today either.

  “Oh. Well…good,” I said, trying hard not to sound disappointed. Of course he would support his girlfriend at the doctor.

  There was a moment of silence. I grabbed my notes out of my bag to begin our study session. Between trying to focus on not swooning over him the entire time we were sitting there and not trying to stuff my face with every last morsel on the table, the last thing I wanted to talk about was Sonny and her ailments. Although, picturing her being diagnosed with some horribly disgusting disease would brighten up this moment.

  “Mind if I look over your notes?” he asked.

  “Sure, go ahead. I’ll look over yours to see what you’re missing.”

  Tristen scooted his chair over to mine and my pulse quickened. We were now a few inches apart and I could smell his sharp, clean cologne. It smelled like heaven.

  We compared notes and I began to explain the definite integral. This was a cake walk for me, but there was something about watching him concentrate on learning that made my heart race. He seemed so lost, but listened carefully, as I slowly explicated the problems in a simpler fashion. His eyebrows came together when he was confused, but his face lit up like a Christmas tree when he finally understood the concept. It was satisfying and sweet, pushing out most of my thoughts about the food that was tempting my every desire. My stomach was still screaming at me to eat more, but it seemed for now my sensibly small bites were satisfying it.

  A few hours went by, and we continued our quest for Tristen to pass the test. Mom came in and out of the kitchen from time to time, looking over in our direction and giving us a smile. I knew better and figured she was checking to make sure we weren’t making out… or that Tristen’s hands weren’t down my shirt.

  Then, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket and glanced at it before silencing the sound. I knew who it was.

  “Do you need to go?” I asked, praying that he would say no.

  “Oh, no. It’s nothing.” He shook his head and looked back down at his book. I wasn’t quite sure why he was refusing to even say Sonny’s name. Everyone knew about them; it wasn’t a secret. Whatever the reason was, I was grateful for it.

  While we wrapped things up, Tristen briefly called his mom to let her know we were finished and that he was ready to be picked up. We sat in the living room and waited.

  “Halloween is coming up soon,” he announced.

  That one statement alone gave me butterflies.

  Halloween was my favorite time of the year. It boggled my mind to think that some people actually didn’t celebrate Halloween. How could you not? Not that I sat at home and held séances, but it was an exciting holiday to me. People were allowed to be whoever they wanted to be. Children scurried from door to door collecting one of the most important things in their little lives; candy. And it was free! People made plans to attend Halloween parties, spend time with their children trick or treating, roam the streets and work together to randomly scare others who walk by, and some
even opted to just sit home with friends or family to watch gory, scary movies all night. Which is what Phoebe and I did every single year to celebrate. To me, blood, gore, and axe murderers were thrilling. And with the fall breeze in the air, the leaves turning colors, and the moon lighting up the darkness in the night, it was better than Christmas in my opinion.

  “I know,” I said with a stupid grin. “It’s my favorite.”

  Tristen smiled wide and laughed. I wasn’t sure if he was laughing at me. I was sure my ridiculous grin had something to do with it.

  “Do you have plans?” he asked.

  “Phoebe and I usually go haunted house hopping. Then we come home and watch horror movies till the sun comes up. It’s sort of a tradition,” I explained, suddenly feeling embarrassed. I realized that in Tristen’s world, he probably attended parties all night long with the cool kids. And Sonny.

  “That actually sounds like fun. We normally go to a party. It’s getting kind of boring now. It’s always the same people, getting drunk and sitting around. I haven’t been to a haunted house since I was a kid.”

  “Really?” I asked, surprised. He had been deprived.

  “Yeah. I mean, we always end up going to the same places. And no one ever dresses up anymore. Who wouldn’t want to be someone different for a night?”

  Did he just read my mind?

  “Well, you can come hang out with us.” The words were out of my mouth before I can stop them. Was I insane? We had one study date, and now I was asking him to ditch his friends, his clique, his girlfriend to hang out with me and a girl he barely knew. He barely even knew me! And this wasn’t even a date! Oh my God.

  He raised his eyebrows and smiled. As he opened his mouth to say something, a car horned outside. I slumped into the couch, mentally running outside and smashing that car into pieces.

  “That’s my mom. So, thanks for helping me. I needed this more than you know.”

  “Oh I know,” I smiled. “You would have needed a miracle to pass that test.” We stood up and headed toward the front door.

  “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence,” he chuckled. I opened the door and he stopped to face me in the doorway.