Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One) A Christian Novel

BOOK ONE

Raw Deal

A Novel

By

Dayo Benson

Raw Deal: Beauty for Ashes Book One

© Copyright 2011 by Dayo Benson

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the author. The only exception is brief quotations in a book review.

Some Scripture is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.

Cover design by Ade Benson

Visit the author’s website at www.dayobenson.com

Special Thanks

My Saviour, thank You for saving me. Thank You for this story and for giving me the commitment I needed to write it. Thank You also for the guts to publish. Please let people find their way to You through it.

To my lovely husband, what more can a girl want when she’s got a man like you? You are the love of my life, my sunshine, and my best friend; I wish we’d met sooner. Thanks for your encouragement, support and everything else. I love you more than I can put into words.

Rhema Benson, my beautiful daughter, I love you so much. You fill our lives with such joy and laughter.

My parents and my brothers—Rhema has the best grandparents and the best uncles in the world. Thank you so much. We love you!

Sara-joy, thanks for doing such a great job with proofreading, and for helping to make sure that I wrote in American English and not in British.

"He came to give beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning,

the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness"

(Isaiah 61:3).

This book is dedicated to you. Happy reading!

Chapter 1

Girl, we have to look amazing, Monica Williams said, as we exited the school building and made our way to the parking lot. This ain’t no ‘dress from the mall’ kinda party, she said, crooking her fingers. This is a straight up, ‘spend five hundred dollars on a dress’ kinda party. She eyed me with unsparing chestnut eyes. And you are coming whether you like it or not. She linked my arm as we cut our way through the parking lot. Whether you want to or not, she continued, whether you feel like or not.

I shuffled alongside her dully. Monica, the party is three whole weeks away.

You mean two weeks and a few days.

Oh, pardon me, I said, snorting my indifference, but don’t you think we should start thinking about what to wear closer to the time?

Monica looked incredulous. Lexi, this will be our last high school Christmas dance!

And…? I asked silently. The girl seriously needed to get a grip. I just think that spending hundreds of dollars on a dress for a pathetic Christmas dance is crazy.

Okay, we won’t spend hundreds, I promise. I guess hundreds is for the prom.

Monica, at this rate, I won’t have any money left to go to college.

Stop being so dramatic, Monica huffed, unlinking her arm from mine and sauntering toward her Lexus.

I couldn’t believe the school drama queen was accusing me of being dramatic. I moved toward my own car, a miserable looking Chevy that was mainly hidden by Monica’s Lexus. I always parked behind Monica, partly hoping that she’d one day reverse too far back and put me out of my misery. My car would be totaled, and Monica’s insurance would pay out for new one.

Monica gave me a weird look. What are you smiling about?

Nothin’.

Are you coming to the game on Thursday, by the way? she asked unlocking her car. There’s an after party in the gym.

What if we don’t win?

We’re playing Los Lions. We’ll win.

I pretended to consider it although my mind was already firmly made up that I wasn’t going. I’m not sure. Probably not though.

Monica glared at me. Why do you never want to hang out or party, Lexi? You didn’t even come to the Thanksgiving dinner. You’re so miserable.

I already have plans for Thursday.

Monica waved a manicured hand dismissively. Save it, Lexi. Watching old soap opera re-runs and snacking on potato chips are not ‘plans’.

Actually I had a fashion show, but I hadn’t told Monica that I was signed yet. I also had a fashion show the night of the Christmas dance. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.

Monica dumped her purse into her trunk and slammed it shut. Besides, it’ll be bad for your diet, she continued. Whereas dancing all night with me at the after party, while looking hot, and being the center of attention and the desire of every guy in this skanky school is bound to make you lose at least a couple of pounds.

What makes you think I’m on a diet? I pulled a sugar loaded cereal bar out of my purse to prove my point, and Monica slapped my hand like I was a naughty child. The cereal bar fell to the ground. Hey! I protested.

Monica swung her bunch of keys round her index finger unremorsefully. That’s like the worst brand. I told you to get the ‘Lo to Go.’ They’re sugar free.

Yeah, but they contain other sweeteners that are probably just as bad as sugar or, in fact, worse; and on top of that, they’re pretty tasteless. I was tempted to retrieve my cereal bar from the ground, but I knew Monica would have a fit. What is up with you LA people anyway? Everyone is on a diet, having a nose job, or cleaning out their pores with horse manure.

What’s with the whole ‘you LA people?’ You spend a couple years in England, and you come back actually thinking you’re British! Plus, I told you I only did that once!

I laughed. Did you really think it would help your skin? What happened to the good-old-fashioned cleanse, tone, and moisturize?

Hey, I already explained to you about my phony beauty consultant, and I’ve switched to someone else. Don’t you go telling anybody about that!

I grinned, shaking my head. I loved Monica, but she was so vain.

Monica’s key swinging stopped abruptly, and she squinted up at the sky. Hey, it’s raining.

I felt what must have been the minusculest of rain droplets hit my nose. Yeah.

Monica’s hands went to her hair in alarm. I gotta get into my car, Lexi, before my hair goes berserk. Monica dove into her car and rolled the window down. I walked over, and she smiled up at me. Think about the party, okay? I really want you to come with me.

Won’t you be going with Liam?

Yeah, but I need you to come too. Who knows, you might meet someone.

I rolled my eyes. Like who?

Oh please, Lexi, don’t give me the ‘there are no hot guys in this school’ business. Two words: Jace Washington. He’ll be there. He just joined the team.

Jace? You’ve got to be kidding me.

Whatever, Lexi.

No, seriously. I know I said he was cute, but I’ve changed my mind.

I hear ya. Monica dug around in her purse and located her sunglasses.

Roberto Cavalli? I asked.

Monica looked proud. You know, Lexi, when I heard you were coming back I was worried that you might be overweight, or have no style, or something. I was worried that you might have changed, and we wouldn’t get on anymore. But you continue to impress me.

You need to get a grip.

She laughed and started up her car. See you tomorrow. She rolled her window up, slowly emerged from her parking spot, and then honked twice as she sped out of the parking lot. She always drove way too fast; I just knew she’d missed her calling as a Nascar driver.

I got into my own car and started making my way home. I considered canceling my fashion show on Thursday so that I could go to the game. It wasn’t like it was fashion week or anything. It was just a show for local designers, but I really wanted to do it. The ‘no pressure’ jobs were the most fun.

Plus, I had pretty much groveled to get into this show. I’d gone to see Vinnie Hoffman myself with my portfolio, and I had insisted that he let me wear his clothes. Luckily, he’d liked me. I couldn’t cancel on him a few days before the show. I’d been to two fittings and a rehearsal!

I drove home gloomily. The only other option was to just tell Monica that I’d gotten signed while I was in England. That didn’t appeal, because if people found out they might Google me and pull out pictures of me on the runway in a bikini or something.

I stopped at a red light and exhaled. It was late November, and the trees were bare. A pale, wintry sun shone lazily upon the city, and the streets were bathed with a surreal golden hue. LA was home, and although I was glad to be back, I hated the reason that had brought me back. This time last year I’d been in England, walking the gray streets of Liverpool, and my dad had still been around. Now, he was gone, and as a result, we’d moved back here, just when my modeling career was taking off—just when my mom’s career was blooming, just when we were getting pretty settled.

Sometimes, I couldn’t believe that he was actually gone forever. I’d never been a ‘life of the party’ kind of person, but my dad’s death had driven an already reticent turtle deeper into her shell. And it didn’t help that all everyone had been talking about since I got back to Kingston High in September was the Christmas dance and Michelle Carey’s birthday party that was coming up in January. It was like TV Land. I really did feel like I was living in the celebrity entertainment channel, and Michelle’s was the Hollywood party of the year.

And to top it up, I’d come home to a completely different Monica. She’d become so shallow, and she was now friends with Michelle Carey and Sandy Hutton, who’d been our archenemies back in freshman year! Nevertheless, she was still good to hang out with, and school was generally okay(ish). But I just couldn’t cope with the hyperactivity and the way everyone seemed so highly strung about the most trivial of matters. Some people had real problems. Not being able to find a lipstick to match my nail polish was not that much of a crisis in the grand scheme of things.

I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as the light stayed red. The after party on Thursday would probably be good, but I’d have to act all happy and giddy like Monica and all the other Kingston High queens, and the thought of that was exhausting. Also, Monica had made me really conscious of the way I spoke. I didn’t think my accent had changed, but she kept accusing me of trying to sound British, when I really wasn’t. If I went to the party, I’d have to be aware of that and make an effort not to sound pretentious by mistakenly calling a cell phone a mobile or something. I hadn’t realized it, but I had picked up a lot of UK vernacular from designers and other models. I needed to get back into LA mode.

My cell phone beeped as the light changed. No one was behind me, so I answered and put Monica on loudspeaker before moving off. What now?

What now? Is that any way to answer the phone?

I’m driving.

Well, you can multitask. What are you a woman for? Anyway, I’ve got a really hot Ricci dress that you can loan if you’re worried about what to wear for Thursday. I can bring it over for you to try on now if you want. I can just see you in it—

Monica, I’m not ‘not coming’ because I don’t have anything to wear.

Not ‘not coming’? Good grief, Lexi, you’d expect a girl to speak better English after four years in England!

Monica, I’ll think about the party, okay? If I come, though, I’ll probably be a bit late.

Why?

Because I’ve got to go somewhere else first.

Where?

Somewhere.

Secret boyfriend?

I laughed. Yeah.

I’ll find out, you know?

Are you home already?

No, I’m at the Salad Bar; just picking up a cress salad.

I couldn’t think of anything more tasteless and unsatisfying than a cress salad, especially without any dressing, which I knew Monica’s would be. Coolio.

Please come on Thursday, Lex. I really want you to come.

Why?

Because it’ll be fun, you antisocial recluse. Just come and forget your troubles! Drink some punch, dance, and kiss a few guys.

Okay, now you’ve really turned me off this party.

Monica laughed. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Later.

I grinned at myself in the rear view mirror. Was I really being miserable? I knew I wasn’t mixing much at school, but I had Monica so I didn’t need to.

It’s just the thought of having to chat about mostly random and irrelevant things that bores me, I said aloud. That doesn’t mean I’m miserable.

By the time I got home I was starting to feel a little worked up. Who was I kidding? All I ever did was sit in my room, moping, eating, and feeling sorry for myself. And, now, I was even talking to myself out loud like some kind of lunatic. I was miserable, antisocial, and reclusive.

I’d been homeschooled by my dad while we lived in England because of my modeling and all the associated traveling. Maybe I’d lost my social skills as a result.

I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat. So what! I didn’t have to party if I didn’t want to. That didn’t make me miserable. I just preferred to be by myself. Plus, the ‘politics’ at school were crazy, and I wasn’t getting involved in it. Okay, it was normal to have cliques and some sort of social hierarchy, but Kingston kids, especially the girls, were just ridiculous. It totally sucked!

I smiled at my American ‘slangage.’ The lingo was coming back pretty fast.

***

What’s the deal, Lexi? Monica asked, following me to my locker the next day. Are you definitely coming to this party?

Huh? It was nine thirty-five a.m., and I was late for class. I’d slept through my alarm, and had just about managed to have a quick shower and throw some clothes on. It was a good thing I lived close to school, or I would have been seriously late. I dialed the combination for my locker and tried to open it. It refused.

Lexi, talk to me. I’m late for biology.

I frowned. What’s the number of my locker again? I squinted at the metallic box in front of me. I was sure this was my locker. One-two-two, I muttered, dialing the combination again.

You know what, Lexi? I should be in class, but I waited for you. And you stroll in half an hour late with your head up your backside. Move! Monica shoved me aside and opened my locker for me. Are you coming tomorrow or not?

To the after party?

Yes, Lexi.

Oh, right. What time?

Well, the game starts at six. Are you coming to watch that?

I can’t. I looked into my locker. It was empty. I groaned and slammed it shut. I’d left my books at home. Argh!

Okay, well, the party starts at seven, Monica said.

My fashion show finished at eight thirty. Yeah, I’ll come, but I’ll be late.

Cool, shall we go shopping after school? Monica asked, hopefully.

No, I think my wardrobe can handle a basketball after party. Am I supposed to go crazy and dress up?

Wear a dress, but don’t go crazy. I’m wearing this hot blue dress from Bebe.

Just then, the basketball team returned from their morning training session.

Hey, Craig, Monica sang.

Craig Bentham squeezed Monica’s shoulder as he walked past. Hey, Monica. He looked at me and smirked.

I wanted to hide. I’d dated him when we first started high school. How embarrassing. He’d dumped me for Ashton Leyland, and Monica had told me they were still together.

Hayden Wright stopped to talk to Monica. Are you coming tomorrow? he asked her. He’d joined Kingston High the fall after I left, and although I’d only observed their banter for a few weeks, it was clear that Hayden could be trouble for Monica and Liam’s relationship. If I were her, I’d either just get with him or stay well away.

Monica gave him the most flirtatious smile I’d ever seen. Sure, I’m a cheerleader now.

It took everything within me not to snort. Monica used to be on the gymnastics team. She’d even won state tournaments. Now, she’d left all that for cheerleading! No doubt Michelle had been the architect of that decision.

Hayden hugged her, and another guy hugged her from behind. It was a Monica sandwich, and she was giggling and squirming, trying to free herself.

I dropped back. I always felt self-conscious around Monica when she went into flirt mode, but I had to admit that she was highly fascinating to watch.

Hey, Jace, Monica trilled, when she managed to release herself from between the two guys.

I looked back. Jace Washington was coming up the corridor, flanked by two buddies, his shirt thrown over his shoulder. One of his buddies was Kevin Wallace, who Sandy had been dating forever. The other was some new blond dude. Another curly-haired black guy was walking just behind them, texting on his phone. There was no denying that some hot guys had joined the school since I’d been away.

I wished I could just be invisible. Why did I have to see the whole basketball squad first thing in the morning on a day when I looked atrocious? The worst part of it was my hair was still damp and at this strange halfway point between curling and frizzing.

We’ve got a cheer for you, Jace. We hear you’re hot.

Cool, Monica. Jace walked off toward the boys’ bathroom.

Monica refocused her attention on Hayden. She seemed to have forgotten that I existed. Eww, you’re all sweaty, Hayden.

Hayden flexed an impressive bicep. Yeah, Coach worked us hard.

I looked at my watch. I needed to get to class. Had I really just told Monica that I was going to the after party tomorrow? The thought of it filled me with nervous dread. I’d probably be on my own all evening. Either that or I’d be Monica’s invisible sidekick, while she flirted the night away. I wasn’t sure which was worse.

Chapter 2

I started modeling when I was thirteen. One of my mom’s work colleagues had suggested that I do a modeling course to help me overcome my shyness. Apparently, her daughter had been quiet and shy when she was younger, and a modeling course had helped to draw her out.

I’d liked the idea, so I’d enrolled for a five-week course over summer vacation. But for me, it hadn’t been about overcoming my so-called shyness. It’d been the allure of glamor, fame, and wealth as my naïve imagination ran wild and conjured up visions of a stunning, dark-haired primadonna (moi) sauntering down a runway in a sparkly gold bikini, while the world salivated at her feet.

The course was both rigorous and fun. I was taught that I shouldn’t let my height make me feel awkward (I’ve been 5’8 since I was twelve!), and that I was exactly the kind of person that agencies wanted. Unfortunately, I was taught to walk by straight women, not by glamorous effeminate men like on Top Model.

When the course finished, I told my mom that I wanted to be a model, and I managed to secure a few bookings. We moved to England, and I caught the eye of an agent at an open call at Transition agency in Manchester, a city half an hour away from our home in the Wirral. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Whether modeling helped me with my shyness or whether I just grew out of it, I don’t know, but on the whole, I was still a quiet, reserved kind of person—not shy but just more of an introvert than an extrovert.

I pondered all this as I packed my things after Thursday night’s fashion show. It was hard to stand out among so many beautiful girls. How exactly was I going to stand out and become a supermodel? Especially with my chilled personality? A lot of the models I met were what I called champagne people: vivacious with effervescent personalities. How was I going to compete with that?

I glanced around the room as I shook my hair free from the numerous pins the hairstylist had used to sweep it up. The models were all chatting away to each other, and some were flirting with the male models.

I kicked off the oppressively tight shoes I was wearing. Each pair of shoes I’d been given tonight were at least two sizes too small. I’d sauntered down the runway in agony, with a deadpan expression hopefully masking my anguish. My feet were a sorry sight, and the thought of going to a party and having to dance was not very appealing right now.

Modeling looked so glam, but it wasn’t. Celebrity models had it good, but puny modellettes, like myself, were a dime a dozen. However, it did have its perks, like my seven closets full of hot clothes that I had acquired from generous designers all over Western Europe. I never went shopping, because I had more clothes than I knew what to do with. For tonight’s party at school, I’d brought with me a gray Weston dress that Ché Weston herself had let me have after a photoshoot in Paris last year summer. I pulled it out of my purse. It was slightly creased but still wearable.

A shirtless male model walked past and I averted my eyes before he thought I was checking him out. He disappeared behind a rack of clothes to change.

I looked at myself in the mirror. Many times, hair and makeup for fashion shows was too ‘knock your eyes out’ to wear anywhere else but on the runway. For tonight, though, Vinnie Hoffman had wanted a ‘less is more’ look, hoping to achieve an ‘ordinary people’ feel for his collection. So I didn’t need to wash it off and redo it.

I was still wearing the deep red silk dress that my dresser had thrust at me for my last change. It had more personality than the gray dress that I’d packed for the party. Yes, it was probably a little too much for school, but had I not lived in England for the past four years? Was it not expected of me to show up at the party and make a bit of a fashion statement?

I stuffed the gray dress back into my purse. I was going in red silk. Kingston High, watch out!

I packed up and went to say bye to Vinnie. He said he’d let me keep his dress if I would do some more shows for him. I gave him my agency’s details so that he could contact them.

***

I got to school just before nine and made my way to the gym. It was heaving. Luckily Monica was looking out for me. Lexi, she yelled over the music, eyeing my dress. I thought you weren’t coming any more. It’s nine o’ clock! The party finishes in about half an hour.

Really? Why?

Because we’ve got school tomorrow. If it was a Friday, they’d let us stay till two in the morning. Whoever planned this party for a Thursday was crazy. Any party that’s out before midnight ain’t a party.

But you can’t have the after party the day after the game.

Says who?

Whatever. You look great anyway.

Monica whipped her hair. I do, don’t I?

Liam came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. Hey, you keep getting away from me.

Yeah, can’t you take a hint? Monica joked.

Do you want to dance? he asked her.

Monica looked at me, and I smiled. Go and dance. It’s cool.

I’ll be back in a minute, Monica promised.

Coming to this party had been a bad idea. I already felt lost, and my feet were still killing me from being crammed into Vinnie’s shoes.

I walked over to the drinks stand and stood behind the curly-haired texter I’d seen with Jace yesterday. He asked for a ‘Slam Dunk.’ He was given a glass of something dirty brown.

I smiled at the girl serving the drinks. Do you have Coke?

One Dirty Dribble coming up, she yelled.

Hey, Lexi, the guy said.

Hey. The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. I grinned at him, as I was handed my drink. I hope this is just Coke.

He steered me toward some chairs that had been set out on the left side of the hall. I was grateful. I needed to sit.

Yeah, what else could it be?

I made a face. With a name like ‘Dirty Dribble,’ I don’t know. Coke laced with marijuana? I was always suspicious about drinks. I’d been offered so many dodgy cocktails at fashion industry meet and greets, and I’d been sick for two days the first time I’d accepted one at a London event. But this was school. It had to be harmless.

Girl, what kind of parties do you go to?

I laughed and sat down, taking a tentative sip. Tastes like normal Coke. What are you drinking?

A Slam Dunk.

Please translate.

Lemonade, lime juice, and ginger.

I made a face.

It’s not as bad as it sounds, he said, offering his glass.

I took a sip, then handed it back. It’s vile.

He grinned. You left me some lipstick.

Oh, sorry.

It’s cool, Lexi. You can leave some on my lips later if you want.

How do you know my name?

Well, you’re Monica’s buddy that’s back from England, right?

Right.

Plus, you’re hot. Everyone knows your name.

I raised an eyebrow. It’s a fact that raising an eyebrow in an uncomfortable situation makes you look more confident than you feel. Well, what’s your name?

Lewis.

Lewis what?

Carter.

Oh. He had two surnames.

Lewis looked around the hall. He had lovely, intense dark eyes. He seemed to be more of a mellow kind of guy than a loud, annoying Hayden type. I searched for something to say. When did you start Kingston?

Tenth Grade. I went to Los High for a year, but basketball was rubbish there.

Are they the ones we played tonight?

Yeah.

I missed the game. Did we win?

Yep.

Did you score any?

Ten points.

Cool. I sipped my Dirty Dribble.

Lewis swigged his Slam Dunk.

We were both quiet for a moment. I wondered what to say next. Lewis was looking at me. I smiled and looked over at the people on the dance floor. I hated awkward silences. I stared into my drink. Um, do you want to dance?

Sure. He downed his drink and stood up.

I downed mine. Bad idea—now I really wanted to burp. Lewis danced me over to the dance floor, and as we danced we talked about school, what subjects we were taking, which teachers we liked, and which teachers we didn’t. Lewis was funny, and I actually started to enjoy the party.

Suddenly, the lights went out for a few seconds, and everyone started screaming before they came back on.

Party’s over, Lewis said.

Oh, is that how they get us out? I asked.

Yeah.

I’d grabbed his arm for dear life when the lights went out, and I realized that I was still hanging onto it. I let go. Sorry.

No worries. How are you getting home?

I brought my car.

Hey, Lexi, where’ve you been? Monica asked, suddenly appearing beside me. I thought you’d left.

No, I was with Lewis.

We’re going to the burger joint across the road. You coming?

No, I think I’ll just head home now.

Monica scowled. Lexi, why are you in such a rush to go home all the time, you miserable—

Okay, Monica, I cut in, raising my hand. I’d done my best to make Lewis think I was all fun and jovial. I didn’t need Monica uncovering the real Lexi. I looked up at him. Are you in a hurry to get home? I knew better than to just follow Monica to the burger joint. She’d flutter off as soon as we got there, and I’d be left on my own. I’d go if Lewis was coming.

Lewis grinned. Not when there’s the option of hanging out with a beautiful girl.

Monica’s eyes widened. Liam never calls me beautiful.

Yes, I do, Liam piped up. I hadn’t even noticed him approaching.

No, you just say I’m hot. I want to be beautiful.

Liam rolled his eyes and took Monica’s hand as the four us made for the exit.

Lewis draped his arm around my shoulders when we got outside. Sandy joined us as we walked, and started talking to Monica, totally ignoring me.

The burger joint was pretty empty when we arrived. The guys ordered burger meals, and we made our way upstairs. I couldn’t stop laughing over the fact that the burger joint was actually called The Burger Joint, and Monica thought it was funny that I found it funny. She started laughing too.

Soon more kids from school arrived, and within half an hour, the place was packed. Some people started dancing to the awful music blasting in the joint.

Most of the basketball squad sat with us at our table, and Monica and Sandy were in their element, flirting and giggling for no apparent reason. Lewis pulled me onto his knee when a couple more guys came over, and Monica gave me a totally tactless wink. I ignored her. Hopefully, Lewis hadn’t seen it.

When Jace Washington walked in, everyone cheered. He came over to our table and slapped hands with a couple of the guys.

You were on fire tonight, Liam said.

Thanks, man. It was a team effort, Jace replied.

Too right, it was a team effort! Craig yelled over the music, pounding his fist on the table. I scored tonight too!

So did Lewis, I put in. I looked down at Lewis. Didn’t you score ten points?

Yeah, Lewis was hot, Sandy agreed.

Jace looked around the joint, an amused frown on his face as he watched our peers making fools of themselves, dancing on the tables and acting like they were in kindergarten. I’m gonna split ya’ll, he said. Or I won’t get up for school tomorrow.

Remember, we’re training at eight, Lewis reminded him.

Yeah, you’d think we’d get a break the day after a game. Jace dug his hands into his pockets. See ya’ll in the morning.

A couple minutes later Hayden decided to leave too. I forgot about training in the morning, he grumbled, yanking his baseball cap off and scratching his head before replacing it again. He stood up, and a few of the other guys followed suit. One day, I’ll get paid for this.

Lewis yawned. Do you want to go home, too? I asked him.

No, but I probably should.

Well, let’s go then. I stood up and pulled Lewis to his feet.

See ya’ll in the morning, Lewis told his teammates.

Yeah, and let us know if she’s any good, Craig said with a wink.

Monica shook her head while everyone else laughed. Go home, Craig, she said.

Lewis and I walked back to the school parking lot. My place or yours? he asked when we got to my car.

Huh?

You know the guys will disown me if I don’t have anything to say about you tomorrow.

I elbowed him and unlocked my disgrace of a car. You can make it up.

Chapter 3

Truth be told, I’d enjoyed the basketball after party, but I obviously couldn’t admit it to Monica. If I did, she’d get that annoying triumphant look on her face, and I just wasn’t having that. So, when she swooshed in on me in the cafeteria during lunchtime on Friday, I acted nonchalant and indifferent about the party.

Come on, you must have enjoyed it, Lexi. I saw you tearing up the dance floor, and you and Lewis seemed to hit it off pretty well.

I bit into my chicken sandwich. Yep, I definitely thought Lewis was hot, but Monica didn’t need to know that.

Did Lewis get your number? Monica asked.

No.

Why not?

I don’t know. He hadn’t even asked, and up until now, I hadn’t even thought about it. Maybe I’d enjoyed his company more than he’d enjoyed mine.

Well, what happened when you guys left last night?

Nothing. I went home, and I assume he went home too.

Monica looked like she didn’t believe me, but she let it drop. A bunch of us are going the movies tonight. Wanna come?

Great! Monica had a never-ending stream of social activities to invite me to. I’d said yes to one. Wasn’t that enough? Who’s going?

Just a few of us, and I’m sleeping over at Sandy’s till Sunday. You can too if you want.

I didn’t think Sandy really liked me. No thanks.

Well, we’re meeting back here at school at seven to park our cars. Feel free to change your mind. Monica got up and walked off. I watched her leave the cafeteria. No doubt she was off to meet Liam.

I picked up my half empty bottle of water and downed the rest of it. A part of me wanted to go tonight, but my inability to keep up with the likes of Monica and Sandy made me think twice.

Since I had no more classes, I decided I was going home. On my way out, I saw Monica and Hayden. He was trying to grab her cell phone, and she was screaming and refusing to let go.

Help, Lexi, she called.

I forced a smile and walked past. Monica and I had been really close before I’d gone to England, and although she’d always been the ‘bouncier’ of the two of us, I didn’t think I’d been that far behind her. I was sure there’d been a time when I was happy, carefree, and full of positivity, but it seemed like a lifetime ago. Right now, things were a struggle. My glass was definitely half empty.

I bought pizza on my way home. Food was good for triggering feel-good hormones, and I definitely needed some of those. I took it to my room and devoured it hungrily, while I downloaded all my thoughts for the day into my diary. The counselor that had worked with me in the first few weeks after my dad died had recommended that I write. It was meant to be cleansing. An hour and a half later, I kicked off my shoes and lay down on my bed. Writing was also exhausting.

Aunt Milly, my mom’s extravagant Bible toting sister, had suggested prayer. Maybe I’d try that one of these days.

***

I woke up with a start as my phone vibrated. I reached over and grabbed it from my nightstand. It was Monica.

Hey, Mon, I croaked. I looked at my glow-in-the-dark clock. It was 6:45. Morning or night? I wasn’t quite sure.

I’m just on my way to school, Monica announced. Are you coming to the movies with us? Do you want me to pick you up?

I got up and switched on the lights. No, I’m not ready yet. I’ll meet you there, but I’ll be a bit late. Will you wait for me?

Sure. What are you wearing?

What are you wearing?

Tiny black Chloé dress. Real tiny.

I thought it was just the movies.

Yeah, but Hayden is coming.

Ah. I see.

Anyway, you hurry up.

Yes, ma’am.

Monica hung up, and I went to the bathroom for a quick sixty-second shower. I would have liked to have straight hair tonight, but with only a few minutes to get ready it wasn’t going to happen. I pulled on a denim mini skirt, topped it with a sparkly silver shirt, slapped on some makeup and rushed out.

***

I barely managed to cut the engine before Monica opened my car door and dragged me out.

Hey! I protested, and then I did a double take. Monica looked really glam, but somehow, she still managed not to look overdressed or like she was trying too hard. Wow, look at you.

We’re late for the movie, Lexi. And I made everyone wait for you!

I looked at my phone. You said seven. I’m only five minutes late.

She looked at her diamond-studded watch. Oh, yeah, mine is twenty minutes fast on purpose so that I’m never late for anything. I forgot. Duh.

So, who’s here?

Monica linked my arm as she marched me over to the group. Lewis, she said with a huge smile. Hayden, Craig, Jace, and Sandy. Michelle couldn’t make it.

Is Liam here?

No, he thinks I’m having a girl’s night with you and Sandy.

What if he finds out?

Monica shrugged. I’ll tell him we were having a girl’s night, and we bumped into the guys.

Craig whistled as Monica and I approached. So we’re just waiting on one more girl now?

Sorry, this is the last girl, Monica said ruffling my hair and patting it down again like she was my mom or my stylist or something. Michelle isn’t coming.

I thought we were getting a girl each.

A girl each?

Yeah, I thought it was supposed to be four of you and four of us.

Monica snorted. You’ll get over it.

Or two of ya’ll can share me, Sandy tinkered.

Lewis came over and placed an arm around my shoulders. I’m with Lexi.

Monica looked incredulous. You guys are pathetic. We’re going out as a group not some kind of triple or quadruple date!

Hayden started toward Monica. She backed away. Leave me alone, Hayden.

He grabbed her. I’m with Monica, ya’ll.

Sandy grinned. I guess I have Craig and Jace all to myself then.

Who’s driving? Craig asked.

Jace, Sandy said quickly.

Jace dug his keys out of his pocket and gave Lewis and Hayden a sly smile. How about I drive the ladies?

Good idea. Monica said, wriggling out of Hayden’s arms. She looked over at me. You coming with us or going with Lewis?

She’s coming with me, Lewis said.

You ain’t seen Jace’s car, Monica sang.

Really? What car is it? I asked.

I dunno, but it’s hot, Monica sang again.

I gave Lewis a sheepish smile. I’m sorry…

Everyone burst out laughing, and Lewis shrugged. Whatever. See you at the mall.

He said it with a smile, so I knew he wasn’t annoyed or anything.

Right, Jace said. I parked around the front. Would you ladies like me to go and bring my car or are you okay to walk over?

Monica put a hand to her heart. How considerate of you to take our footwear into account.

Craig snorted. C’mon boys. Let’s go.

Just because you’ve got no gentleman instincts, Monica called after him.

Jace looked at me. You’re not wearing heels. You can come with me."

Okay. I followed Jace round the building to the front of the school.

Are you okay? he asked.

Yes. I rubbed my arms.

Cold?

Not really. I let my hands drop.

I spied a shiny black sports car with huge silver rims, the kind you only saw on TV and in movies, sitting on the sidewalk outside the school’s front entrance. That couldn’t be Jace’s car.

Jace pushed a button on his car keys and the indicators flashed.

That is no way your car.

Jace didn’t say anything. He went round to the driver’s side and jumped in. I slid into the passenger’s side.

As Jace drove, I was conscious of how much my legs were showing. I was also conscious of the moody fragrance that was wafting over from his direction every time he moved. Nice!

We picked up Monica and Sandy, and then headed for the mall. Monica and Sandy were annoyed that they had to squash into the