Rock My World

This is a work of fiction.
 
The characters and events are figments of
the author’s imagination. Any similarity to persons living or dead is
coincidental and not intended by the author. Real companies and persons mentioned
are also used fictitiously.

All rights reserved. In accordance with the U.S.
Copyright Act of 1976, the scanning, uploading, and electronic sharing of any
part of this book without the permission of the publisher constitute unlawful
piracy and theft of the author’s intellectual property. Thank you for your
support of author’s rights.

ISBN
978-0-9888378-1-2

Copyright 2013 by Sharisse Coulter

Chapter 1

Jenna saw the best in everyone. In sixth grade,
she was voted “Most Friendly.” Her table in the cafeteria was always full: a
feat for any pre-teen. Then came high school, and she became “Most Likely to
Ruin Her Life” in a less official, more viral poll of her peers. However, in
the many years since, she’d worked hard to be a good friend, wife, mother, and
daughter, priding herself on putting others first. That cheery optimism had
served her well.
Until today.
Of course, she couldn’t
have seen it coming; and yet, a nagging little voice told her she’d known it
all along. It’s not every day something happens to turn your whole world upside
down. But today, Jenna found herself standing on her head, and not just during
yoga.

“
CouCou
!”
Airika
waved to Jenna as she walked up the path toward the
frosted glass palace of
Karyn
C’s studio. Jenna loved
that
Airika
, born and bred in L.A., injected random
French phrases into her everyday vernacular despite never learning a foreign
language. She was so unaffected by other people’s criticism, floating through
life on a free-spirited cloud. It was refreshing being friends with someone so
uninhibited.
Someone so unlike herself.

“Hi!”
Airika
said,
air-kissing Jenna’s cheeks.

“I’m so excited! Thank you
so
much for arranging this!”

“Did you bring the album?”
Airika
asked, glancing up from her phone, fingers tapping away.

“Yeah, I brought it. Is
Karyn
C. a fan of my dad’s?” Jenna asked.

“Who isn’t?”
Airika
,
knowing Jenna’s discomfort with using her father’s celebrity to garner favors,
added, “She’s so excited to dress
you
though. She told me you have the perfect body for her designs.”

“Really?” Jenna knew she was being placated but
secretly agreed the
Karyn
C. gowns she’d been seeing
at award shows would accentuate her tall, athletic frame. She often felt
mannish in gowns because they emphasized her shoulders, making her look like a
transvestite.
 
Karyn’s
draping and detail—quintessential to her designs—fell in perfect
feminine lines, soft and flowing. Perfect for tonight’s occasion.

“Come in, come in! I’m so glad you’re here. Sorry
it’s so early,” exclaimed a spritely Asian twenty-something, escorting them
into the studio. “It is
such
a
pleasure to meet you, Jenna.
 
And a
pleasure, as always, to see you again,” she said, air-kissing
Airika
.

“I am in love with your designs,
Karyn
. I’m so grateful you’d open your studio for me.”
Jenna said.

“Oh please! You’re Shawn
Jax’s
daughter!
And
you were an amazing
model! Don’t even get me started on your yummy husband! Designers must throw
themselves at you constantly!”
Karyn
C. enthused with
a flick of her hand, as she bustled about, throwing garments on racks.

Jenna smiled, thinking
Karyn
seemed unbelievably young for someone with such a long list of
accomplishments-—she couldn’t have been a day over 23.

“Not since I got knocked up and turned into a
boring housewife,” Jenna said.
Karyn’s
brows knit
together in confusion before she laughed politely.

“Oh, Jenna wanted to bring you a little something
to say thank you,”
Airika
said, diffusing the awkward
moment.

“Right. From my dad.” Jenna pulled the album out
of her oversized shoulder bag. “
Airika
said it’s your
favorite?”

“
Aww
, that was so sweet
of you,”
Karyn
said to Jenna, setting it on a pile of
paperwork on her desk.

“We wanted you to have these, too,”
Airika
said, pulling out two front row tickets to Alex’s
concert tomorrow night. Jenna kicked herself for not thinking to do that
herself. Good thing
Airika
always had her back.

“O.M.G.! OMG, OMG, OMG!!!! Oh, thank you, thank
you,
thank
you! Oh. My. God. This is
amazing
, thank you! These tickets have
been sold out since, like, forever!”
Karyn
squealed
and danced around, clutching the tickets to her chest as though they were
plated in gold. Her teeny frame wrapped the two friends into an impossibly
strong bear hug, nearly knocking the wind out of Jenna.

“You’re welcome,” they said together. Jenna
couldn’t help but laugh.

Regaining her composure,
Karyn
picked out a silk chiffon one-shoulder dress, ending just above the knee, and
handed it to Jenna. It was an almost nude pink that brought out Jenna’s ivory
skin tone without making her look naked. Her long chestnut hair flowed around
her shoulders as she twirled for approval.
 

“
Très
magnifique
! Like a haute couture harlequin heroine,”
Airika
gushed.
 

Jenna didn’t know what that meant, but felt
feminine and beautiful and just
knew
Alex would love it on her. She thanked
Karyn
and
left, fantasizing about his reaction when he saw her tonight.

Their daughter, Felicity, was staying with her
grandparents for the weekend so that Jenna could plan the perfect weekend in.
She stocked the fridge with Alex’s favorite foods, even looking up his
grandmother’s recipe for Swedish meatballs and
lingonberry
pudding. Alex broke the stereotypical male mold in lots of ways, but the way to
his heart was still through his stomach. And of course, what he sometimes
called “dessert,” which she’d been thinking about for weeks.

When their schedules allowed, Jenna and Alex loved
being homebodies. Their idea of a great date night included a couple of rented
DVD’s and a homemade pizza, Alex’s specialty. Jenna often joked that if the
music thing didn’t work out, he could make a killing as a private chef.

“I’ve got a crazy day today so I have to leave
you, but good luck tonight!”
Airika
said, sashaying
her way to the brand new Mercedes G-class SUV parked next to Jenna’s
Prius
.

“Thanks for everything, Air! See you tomorrow!”

“I expect details. Ciao!”
 

Jenna loved hanging out with her best friend, yet
relished the idea of getting a few hours to spend on her own today, and since
the day started so early she had plenty of time to prep for tonight.

The happiness she felt for having an amazing
husband and an incredible best friend was only slightly marred by the fact that
they hated each other. Despised, to be more accurate.

Jenna painstakingly scheduled events so they
always had a buffer (usually herself). She couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment
of their antagonism, but it started sometime senior year of high school.

Jenna suspected it had something to do with her.
The first time she remembered noticing it was after she announced her
pregnancy. Unexpected pregnancy is a breeding ground for teen drama and Alex
and
Airika
were both fiercely protective of her.

Her brilliant modeling career and burgeoning Party
Girl persona came to a screeching halt. The prom queen became the outcast as
her friends and followers traded her in for a new queen bee while she
transitioned from haute couture to maternity. They talked about her behind her
back, saying things like, “She’s
gonna
get fat!” and
“Washed up before she’s even legal!” and “Slut!” Alex and
Airika
defended her against the onslaught that semester while Jenna spent an
inordinate amount of time in the girls’ bathroom learning to cry silently.
Through the humiliation and shame, she vowed to never again let anyone she
loved lose friends because of her and her poor choices.

Before that, Jenna dropped her famous last name
like ecstasy at a rave. She got into the hottest clubs, best parties, and
backstage at any concert she (and her minions) wanted. Jenna toed the line of a
perfect Hollywood cliché. As adults, those roles reversed.
Airika
,
not born to famous parents, had styled her way into V.I.P. status, constantly
dragging Jenna out to club openings and red carpet after parties. While
Airika
thrived in that party environment, Jenna knew she
didn’t belong there anymore.

After she and Alex married, Jenna swore to turn
her life around. And she had.
The picture of healthy living.
She grew organic herbs in their yard. She worked out. She meditated. She drove
a hybrid. She obeyed the speed limit (well, unless she was in a
real
hurry). She joined the PTA. She
cheered Felicity on at every soccer game. She sacrificed having a career so her
husband could achieve his dreams. She supported him while he toiled away in
obscurity, with a little help from her trust fund. And finally, after all these
years, the puzzle pieces were coming together. Her life was just like a
commercial: all bright smiles and crisp clean living.

 
Chapter 2

The day began, as usual, in her meditation room.
She went about her morning ritual of speed yoga (because she needed to squeeze
in her cardio too), skipping the meditation pranayama at the end. She could
never convince her thoughts to pass through her mind like clouds in the sky, as
her yogi told her to do; they were more like tornadoes wreaking havoc and
destruction, requiring immediate attention.

After yoga she blended her breakfast of spinach,
tomato, carrot, pomegranate and wheatgrass into an anti-aging, energy-boosting
smoothie. She called it gut-wrenching goodness; Alex called it compost. She split
it between two re-usable steel canteens and hopped in the shower.

The day looked just like every other day in
perpetually sunny Southern California. The sky was the cerulean blue of Jenna’s
eyes, the temperature perfectly warm with a cool ocean breeze. This fine
February morning she put on a draped jersey tank with her new skinny jeans and
jeweled espadrilles—sexy, yet comfortable.

She dropped Felicity off at school, listening to
the usual teenage monologue.

“Seriously Mom, I don’t see why I can’t just get a
ride from Trey. He’s a better driver than you after only driving for a year.”

Jenna smiled, and for the umpteenth time, reminded
her sixteen year-old daughter that she would not be riding on the back of her
best friend’s motorcycle until she was mature enough to know not to get on it
in the first place.

Though Jenna noticed a marked increase in the
number of times they butted heads recently, she knew this particular outburst
came on the heels of forbidding Felicity from any professional acting until she
turned eighteen. Felicity had been offered a chance to audition for the
director of a new biopic about her grandfather. Jenna knew better than to let
her take that path. No daughter of hers was going to become a cautionary tale.
One screw up in the family was enough, and Jenna claimed that title years ago.

She offered Felicity the smoothie she made, met,
as usual, with a look of disgust, as if she’d offered her a steaming pile of
something else. Felicity swept her golden copper waves up into a ponytail and
Jenna bit her tongue, making a conscious effort not to ask her to leave it
down. Those metallic colored locks, with her tanned face and blue eyes, made a
gorgeous combination—one most girls would die for. Jenna wished she’d
take advantage of it a little instead of dressing for soccer practice.