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It’s perfectionism in motion. Not a single thing could have been done more flawlessly, and the crowd knows it. Their cheers grow louder before he lands his final stunt and moves so that he has both tires firmly on the ground. Then his bike is down, his eyes wide.
“Go!” Summer demands, pushing me out of my seat. She points with one arm, still holding her camera with the other, and I don’t ask. I go.
King must see me as I hedge against the rail to the aisle, because he’s ru
When we part, King holds either side of my face and presses his forehead against mine. “Thank you.”
“This was all you, babe.”
“This was all you believing in me.”
“You owned it, King. It was flawless. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful.” I don’t know if he can hear my last words over the a
ALTHOUGH IT’S Monday, I have a bounce in my step as I make my way to the Knight residence. My hair is being u
I bound up to the door with a smile stretching my lips wide and check to see if the door is unlocked. It swings open, revealing someone is home. A song is playing in my head, a sketch occurring in my mind as I shed my coat and bag and then stop, hearing soft murmurs followed by a sound that has become nearly foreign. My feet take me down the hall until I reach Mercedes’ room, and I stop in the doorway, where my heart lurches to my throat. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything wreck me like watching Mercedes cry. It creates a chaotic mess of emotions that make me think of the time I tried splatter painting, which involved dipping a paintbrush and then using sharp, jerky movements to splatter paint across a canvas. Lights covering darks, hues that didn’t belong together comingling, undefined shapes and borders. It was too messy for me, and I feel like that now. My anger is peaking. My eyes are heavy, stinging with tears. My need to make her happy and laugh is pushing me to forget the other emotions, and it ends with me staring at King, whose eyes have lifted from Mercedes to look at me.
“They all hate me, King. I can’t go back.”
I watch his throat move as he swallows words and threats I know he’s experiencing because I am as well. “They don’t hate you. They’re jealous.”
“They aren’t jealous! There’s nothing to be jealous about. That’s what people tell others so they don’t feel bad. They hate me! They hate everything about me!”
“There is nothing about you that anyone could hate. It’s not possible. They’re being assholes to get a rise out of you. It’s people like that you should pity. They don’t see the joy in life. All they see is the threat they offer, and to try and maximize that threat, they act like a bunch of assclowns and attack. They’re vicious and heartless. You have to…” King’s words drift off, and his brows furrow in pain. He isn’t sure what to say. I’m sure his instincts are providing instructions on how to be a bigger asshole in return, but something is stopping that advice, and it turns my stomach because although I hate the thought of her being equipped with how to be the bigger bully, I loathe seeing her in this kind of pain and feel subsequently responsible for prolonging it.
I take a step closer to the bed to ensure she will hear me when King doesn’t speak. “You don’t want to become them, Mercedes. You want to be like Summer: talented, strong, and loving. Those girls at your school are never, never going to be like Summer, not even half as good because they’re going to get so distracted in their lives by trying to ruin others, they’re going to miss their own opportunities.”
King releases a deep breath and closes his eyes, making it unclear if he believes my insight or hates that he does.
The afternoon is slow. My previous mood has, like the rain, washed away, but as many rainbows as I try to create, Mercedes refuses to see any of them. I can’t blame her. Sometimes we all need to respect and acknowledge the pain we’re experiencing. Otherwise, it just festers. Sadly, King vanished shortly after I arrived, and I hate wondering if he’s upset with me for interfering.
I SET up the stairs of my apartment complex, my hand reaching for my phone to see if King’s sent me anything, and stop when I see Charleigh on the landing, her movements stalled, waiting to see my reaction.
“Hey,” I say, taking the last step so I’m standing on level ground with her.
“Hey.” There’s a faint smile on her lips.
“So, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened exactly. I think I just got a little jealous of you spending so much time with your new boyfriend, and you not introducing him or telling me about him, that when I heard you dropped out of the show, I was so shocked I didn’t know how else to really react.” I try to trace back to that day and what all we said to each other. “I understand why you’ve made the decisions you have.”
“Because of King?”
“Not just him. Because of Mercedes, and Kash, and Summer, Allie, and you. You guys have all taught me about love and how life is too short to waste it doing something you don’t love.”
“I’m sorry I blew up on you. I never meant to hurt you or Allie. You both mean so much to me, and I just got caught up in things. I want you to meet him, but I also want to spend some time with you, catch up.”
“I’d like that.”
“Have you heard back from Italy yet? Are you going to be saying things like ciao, and mi scusi?”
I take a deep breath and nod. “I’m hoping my accent will be better than yours, but yeah.”
Charleigh’s eyes grow wide, lacking a reciprocating smile. “You’re going?” The lilt in her voice makes it difficult for me to decipher between it being a question or disbelief.
“June second.”
“But it’s good … right?”
“I think so. I hope so.”
Charleigh’s eyes are still wide as she nods, her motions stiff and forced, making it clear it was disbelief.
“Hey, if you don’t have anything going on Thursday, I was wondering if you and Allie could convince a few of your stylish people and models to do a field trip?”
“A field trip?”
“Yeah.” I take a long breath, glancing at the clouds heavy with rain. “Mercedes is having a really rough time with a couple of kids, and I am hoping we can share a little sense with them.”
“We’re twenty-two. Are you sure we have sense to share?”