Thin White Line (9 page)

Everything is color coordinated, going from white to black. I’m not shocked that half of the closet is full of black clothing, but I am stunned by the pastel colors. I immediately gravitate towards the black, but she shakes her head. “No, you need to play up those blue eyes.” She pushes the hangers around, tossing out different tops. One in particular holds my attention, a flowy, sheer, royal blue, blousy number, cut longer in the back and shorter in the front. I pick it up, feeling the smooth material. It has to be silk. “That would look great on you.”

A tag is hanging off it. Before I can look at it, she grabs it from me, bites the tag off with her teeth, and crushes it in her fist.

Having shopped at some of the finest stores in southern California, I know expensive when I see it. “I can’t. It’s too nice.”

“You can and you will.” She tucks it beneath her arm and moves over to her jeans. “My mom bought it for me for Christmas two years ago. You may as well wear it. Plus, it’s your color, and you’re family, so there you go.”

“What are you going to wear?”

“I’m thinking of going casual for a change. I don’t know. Maybe jeans and a ratty t-shirt?”

“Jeans, definitely.” I think Brooke looks amazing in jeans. “What about for shoes?”

“I have a cute pair of strappy sandals that I haven’t worn for a while.” She walks to the end of the closet and opens a door. The nirvana of shoe paradise appears.

“Sick…” Again, the shoes are color coordinated. “OCD much?”

“What?”

“What’s with the color coordination?”

“Mom has always been obsessive compulsive. You should see our kitchen. The staff has to stock it and have all the labels facing forward, and then broken down by product. It’s kind of sad, actually.”

“OCD,” I repeat. “I understand. Mom’s the same way…but not as extreme.”

She spends the next fifteen minutes scouring through her closet.

“Oh, I know,” Brooke says, dialing a number and putting the call on speaker.

“Hey, babe,” comes the husky reply. I instantly recognize Sadie’s voice.

“Do you have my black, strappy sandals?”

“The fuck-me wedges, you mean?”

I laugh, and Sadie asks, “Who’s with you?”

“Kenzie,” Brooke replies. “About the wedges.”

“I was hoping you’d forget I had them.” Sadie sighs.

“Fat chance.”

While Brooke finishes the phone call I use her bathroom; an en suite paradise with a walk-in, tiled shower that has one of those rainfall showerheads and a soaker tub that overlooks a garden. Beside me, as I wash my hands, the little cupboard is slightly ajar. I start to close it and see the prescription pill bottles. My heart gives a tug. Is she sick and I just don’t know it?

I push the cabinet closed and walk out of the bathroom. Brooke is sitting in one of the chairs looking out over the driveway. “Crap, Mom’s home.”

I don’t ask why that bums her out so bad.

“What about your outfit?” I ask.

We find a simple, razorback tank top and pair it with sexy jeans and tall gladiator shoes, just in case Sadie doesn’t show with the wedges.

I follow Brooke to the kitchen where a tall woman with a sleek bob is talking to another woman who’s wearing a black and white smock, her hair is worn up in a tidy bun. At our approach, she turns.

My face must have shown my shock. My Aunt has changed in the years since I last saw her. She’s so...proper, I guess is the word.

“Oh my God, Kenzie!”

I recognize the smile and the kind eyes. “Hi, Aunt Shelley.”

“I’m taking Kenzie home and then I need to run by Sadie’s and pick up a pair of shoes she borrowed.”

At the mention of Sadie, her mom’s expression changes. “Perhaps you should go through her closet and pick up more than the shoes. I’ve seen her wearing your clothes on more than one occasion.”

My cheeks turn hot because I’m holding the silk shirt.

“You’re family,” Aunt Shelley says with a wave of her hand.

I give her a hug and follow Brooke to her SUV.

Brooke is quiet on the way back to my house, making me wonder if she saw me looking in her cupboard. She steers the car with her left hand while she fidgets with her phone with the other.

“Maybe I shouldn’t borrow your shirt,” I say, wanting to break the awkward silence.

“You’re wearing it. It’s not like it’s up for discussion.”

Alrighty then; apparently I’m wearing the shirt regardless.

She pulls out of the neighborhood and takes a right, heading in the opposite direction of my house. “I thought I’d show you Ryder’s place,” she says in explanation.

My heart picks up speed.

Ryder’s house stands perched on the edge of a hillside that looks out over a river, only half a mile away from Brooke’s. The brick Georgian home with white pillars and black shutters is not at all what I expected. It is so...traditional.

Once again, I am reminded of what kind of life I have been living for so many years compared to what my life has now become. I know that people in Vancouver are aware of my past, especially Brooke, despite the fact that she hasn’t talked about it since the first day of school. At band practice the other night, Laura brought up my dad’s infidelity. Having people being privy to my personal life sets my teeth on edge.

After driving by Ryder’s house, Brooke takes me home, pulling right into the driveway. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“You don’t have to pick me up for school every day. I mean, I can start driving my own car.”

She looks at my little, silver car. “Not until you get Washington plates. Seriously, it would take weeks to get the egg off your paint.”

“Would kids at Pacific really get that intense and egg my car? Besides, you’re kind of going out of your way.”

“Are you cheating on me?” she asks.

“What?”

She laughs then and I release the breath I’ve been holding.

“See you tomorrow morning. Get a good night’s sleep...because you’re going to need it.”

CHAPTER 9

Brooke hadn’t been kidding when she said to get some rest.

As I walk through the party, I can immediately see why. The place is packed. I don’t recognize anyone except for the band and I wonder if that’s a Godsend. I don’t really want or need Laura smirking at me all night; or Cicely, for that matter.

I take a deep breath and smooth a hand over the shirt I borrowed from Brooke. I’m wearing a cute, black bra with royal blue lace beneath it. I think of Ryder’s comment about my underwear and being curious about what I’d wear next.

By some of the looks I’m getting, I wonder if maybe the sheer shirt is a bit too much, but Sadie assures me it’s perfect and Brooke seems to agree. I wore my hair down, the ends landing strategically over my boobs.

My makeup is a bit heavier than I usually wear it, compliments of Sadie, yet again, and as the band gets ready to play, she pulls out lipstick. “Pucker up, Kenz.”

“I can put it on myself,” I tell her, but she looks at me like I slapped her.

She lifts a penciled in brow. “Let the master work.”

I purse my lips and, taking my chin in her hand, Sadie proceeds to apply a layer of lip liner and gloss to my mouth. I can see the guys in the room turn to stare, nudging each other. 

Sadie knows exactly what she’s doing. She wants and loves the attention. “You have such lovely lips, Kenz. I could make-out with you all night long.” She lets her hand fall to her side and I shake my head.

The Frozen
take the stage to an appreciative audience of drunken, Frat boys and a variety of what appears to be both good and not so good girls.

Curtis slides the guitar over his shoulder. Since arriving, he’s been looking for Brooke, who told me and Sadie to give her a few minutes in the bathroom alone. She looks amazing when she appears a few minutes later; rocking tight jeans, the strappy sandals and razorback tank with no bra.

Ryder’s dressed in a ratty t-shirt that is snug and forms to his body.

Deklan looks equally hot with one of those shirts that hang low on the sides, showing off his tattoos.

The band warms up and girls make their way to the stage. Sadie and I stand just a little right of center stage.

“How you all doing tonight?” Brooke asks into the mic.

The crowd lets out a unanimous yell in response.

“Let’s get this party started,” she says, turning to Deklan who counts down the song.

The entire room jumps up and down to the beat.

Brooke grips the microphone and sings the now familiar lyrics to a song with a haunting melody that makes the hair on my arms stand on end. Brooke has a way of singing to the crowd, of drawing them closer, drawing them in. 

Ryder plays his part to the hilt, much to the delight of the girls in the room. He is the consummate flirt, his gaze falling on each girl there; practically eye-fucking each and every one before turning his attention to another.
He’d make one hell of a front man
, I think, almost relieved that he isn’t the lead singer. Curtis is much more subdued, content to work a five foot area of stage while doing his best to stay out of Brooke’s way.

As Ryder’s gaze settles on me, he smiles wolfishly. I can feel the girls around me watching with curiosity since I get a little more flirt than they have.  It feels good to have Ryder’s attention.

As Ryder’s gaze moves on to another woman in the crowd, my gaze shifts to Deklan. His jeans hang low on his hips, the waistband of his underwear peaking out. I glance at the girls to my right to notice that a few are watching Deklan. He draws women like bees to honey with all his bad boy tattoos, piercings, and dark sexy hair that looks like he ran his hands through it a few hundred times. He is smoldering with a sexuality that is effortless. Who knew such a dangerous looking guy could be such a sweetheart?

The windows of the house steam up and I am so glad I wore minimal clothing.

Sadie hands me a beer, and then slips something into my other hand. I flatten my palm to see an oval pill. “What is it?”

“Hydrocodone.”

“I don’t need it.” I hand it back to her, but she won’t take it.

She gives me a scolding look. “Put it in your pocket. You’ll need it. Trust me.”

“I—”

She squeezes her hand over mine. “It’s like taking Tylenol. Seriously, even dentists give it out like candy after a too intense cleaning. Trust me.”

Is this how it’s going to go? Every single weekend we take drugs? Her eyes are already dilated and I wonder if she got high before we picked her up.

“The drummer is so hot,” I hear a girl say, standing next to me.

Her friend nods in agreement.

He is hot, especially when he gets so into the music. Deklan becomes such a part of the music that it seems to take him away. I love how passionate he is.

I remember Brooke’s comment that she thinks Deklan likes me, but I still don’t think so. He hasn’t even really looked my way tonight.

I recognize the melody of a song that I loved the first time I heard it. Brooke clears her throat and sings the words, “I’m invisible to you. You see right through me, even when I’m standing right beside you.”

Those words hit a chord with me before and I feel it hit even more strongly this time.

I remember Brooke telling me that Deklan wrote a lot of the songs and I wonder which one of them wrote this particular one.

Three quarters of the way through the song I feel hot breath on the back of my neck. I turn around to find a buff blond with a beard standing a few inches away from me. He actually winks at me.

Eww...seriously?

I take a step forward to get away from him. He pinches my butt, and I turn back around and frown.

I feel his breath on my neck again and I look at Sadie. Seeing the guy, she turns to him. “Dude, could you back up a little bit. You’re crowding us.”

“Shut up, whore.”

Sadie lifts a brow. “Excuse me, Sasquatch?”

The girls around us laugh.

“Nasty bitch,” he replies.

“You can sling insults at me all night long, but that won’t change the fact that you’re a creepazoid who is breathing down my girlfriend’s back.”

Brooke quits singing and one by one the band members stop playing.

“Back off, asshole,” Brooke says into the mic.

“Whoa…” the crowd seems to say in unison.

“What the fuck, man,” Sasquatch says, holding his hands up. “I’m just givin’ the ladies my attention. She’s begging for it, flashing her titties for all to see and having her girlfriend slide that lip-gloss on her lips.

My cheeks burn red. I’ve always hated having any attention directed solely on me. It makes me uncomfortable and now is definitely no exception.

Deklan jumps off the stage, drumsticks held tight in his fist. “Apologize to the lady.”

Although Sasquatch is close to six feet tall, Deklan is still a few inches taller than the guy. Sasquatch swallows a little, glances at his buddies, who don’t seem too eager to jump into the fray. “I don’t see any ladies.”

A girl behind him actually throws her drink on him. “You’re such a prick.”

I’m grateful for the support.

Ryder and Curtis set their guitars down and join Deklan. Brooke stays on stage. “Get the fuck out,” she says into the microphone.

Sasquatch holds his hands up. “Hey, I fell into her by accident.” He looks at me. “I’m sorry.”

I nod and look at Deklan.

Deklan glances at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod once again, my throat too tight to say much of anything. I take a step away from Sasquatch, and immediately Deklan’s hand is on mine and he’s pulling me closer.

“Get the fuck out,” Brooke says again into the mic and then the crowd joins in with a chorus of, “Get the fuck out.”

Sasquatch and friends have no choice, but to get out.

The second the door shuts behind him, the crowd erupts into applause.

“Come on, boys...we have a set to finish,” Brooke says and I’m relieved she has diverted the attention back to the band, where it should be.

“He’s a prick. Ignore him,” Deklan says and drops his hand to his side. He reluctantly returns to the drums and I know he’s concerned by how he watches me.

I nod.

“You sure you’re okay?” Ryder asks, squeezing my hand.

“Yeah, I’m good. Thanks.”

Sadie puts her arm around my shoulders. “Welcome to life as an official groupie. Prepare to put up with this shit every night there’s a concert. You just can’t get away from it.”

That’s hardly encouraging.

The set continues and I relax, hoping Sasquatch and buddies don’t return.

Brooke sings her heart out and manages to avoid Curtis most of the time. She flirts with the audience, though, especially a cute guy that stands by the side of the stage.

Curtis does his best to flirt as well, but it is far easier for Brooke. I don’t think it helps Curtis’s anger that Brooke’s getting a lot of attention from the males in the audience and the females seem mostly interested in Ryder and Deklan. The game continues on through the rest of the set and it’s pretty obvious by Curtis’s pissed off demeanor that Brooke has definitely won the round.

“We’ll be back in thirty minutes,” Brooke calls out before stepping off the stage, walking towards us.