Turning Grace (4 page)

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 that 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?

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.