Chapter Five - Mirabelle
CHAPTER FIVE
Mirabelle
THE DAY WAS rather unproductive. Henry didn’t give me and Stacey much to work with, but it was only the first day. After he showered and cooled off, he was a little more forthcoming, but not by much.
I wanted to go home after getting off work, break into Mom’s wine cellar in the basement, and lie in the hot tub for as long as I wanted—but that’s not where I am.
I’m stuck at a bar with some of the other interns who have finally stopped treating me like a pariah who belongs at the circus. They reluctantly invited me along after talking about their plans tonight in front of me. It wouldn’t have hurt my feelings if they hadn’t invited me, but Ginger, the nicest one of the bunch, clearly felt bad.
I wore Henry’s shirt until Stacey let me run out to my car to grab my spare. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to give the shirt back to Henry or not.
That’s what I’ve been pondering while answering mindless questions to get to know the people I work with. Except, for every question I ask them, they ask me three.
“Okay, I think I speak for everyone when I ask, is your gold medal made with real gold?” Ginger asks, and I’d give anything to have a drink right now. Unfortunately, I’m not twenty-one until February.
“They’re mostly silver, but they do have a certain percentage of gold in them.” She didn’t need to ask me that, she could have just looked it up on the internet like I did after winning them.
She smiles widely at my answer. “That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, it is.” I force a short laugh, attempting to redirect the conversation back to them. “So where did you all go to school?”
There’s a mixed range from West Coast to East Coast, but there is another girl who’s from North Carolina. Miley went to North Carolina State University, but I’ll try my best not to hold it against her. She seems nice enough, but she hasn’t stopped staring at me. It’s making me feel uncomfortable, and I’m trying not to stare back at her.
I take a sip of my water and nearly choke on it when Henry’s name is brought up. “Dude, you’re so lucky that you get to work with Stacey on that PR campaign for Henry Price.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I succeed at answering calmly, but my hand grips my water tightly.
Elias takes a drink of his beer. “Is it true you and Henry know each other?”
“Yeah, we grew up together.”
Miley tilts her head, sizing me up. “So if you’re an Olympian and your dad is one of the greatest quarterbacks of all time, why are you working as an intern?”
I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans, trying to keep my thin patience in check before I snap. “I worked hard for my degree, and for my place here. I used my mother’s maiden name while applying. I don’t want any special treatment.”
“Maybe I’d be more inclined to believe you if your mother’s maiden name wasn’t the same as the head coach’s,” she says, and I know she’s not wrong. It’s a deep blow, but I refuse to let them see it affect me.
The others have fallen quiet, avoiding looking at me.
Stand tall. Don’t let them see they can hurt you.
“Well, I’m sorry you feel that way. I know you probably think this is all just handed to me, but my parents and family don’t give handouts. I graduated Summa Cum Laude from Duke in three years while competing at a collegiate level of gymnastics because I work hard for everything I have. My parents didn’t do fucking shit to get me this job, not that I should have to prove that to any of you. You don’t see me asking what strings you pulled to get your jobs,” I snap, standing to grab my things. I’d like to add a nice little fuck you in there, but I do have to work with them still.
“Mira, you don’t have to go,” Ginger says, offering me a small, embarrassed smile.
“No, I do. I know when I’m not wanted, and for the record, I make a great friend if any of you tried to look past my fucking last name.” I leave on that note, walking quickly out of the bar, trying to keep my pride intact.
I miss my parents. I miss my brothers. I miss Emily. A part of me wants to say I miss Henry, but how can you miss something you’ve never had?
This has been the longest day ever.
I climb into my car and pull my phone out, immediately calling my brother. I sniffle loudly, trying to keep the tears at bay. Regardless, a few slip past, wetting my cheeks.
JJ answers after a few rings, and my leg is bouncing anxiously. “Hey Mira, I was just talking about you with Mom. She’s on the line too.”
I wipe my cheeks quickly, trying to dry them even though my family isn’t here to see me cry. “Well, why wouldn’t you be talking about me? I’m awesome,” I joke, trying to mask any hint of how upset I am.
“Damn right. Don’t let anyone tell you differently,” Mom says, without knowing that’s exactly what I needed to hear right now.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, trying to disguise the crack in my voice with a short cough. It’s a pathetic attempt, and we all know it.
“You okay?” JJ asks.
“Been better. Just a bad day,” I answer, wiping my cheeks again. I can’t believe I’m crying over those idiots. I feel ridiculous letting them get to me like this. I’m freaking awesome, and if they can’t see that, it’s their loss.
“Who was it? I’ll kick their asses,” Mom says heatedly, and it does make me feel better to think of her beating them up. I wouldn’t put it past her.
“No one I can’t handle myself,” I say, feeling a little bit better about sitting in my car crying because my coworkers don’t like me. Damn. This is a new low.
“Does Henry know them? I’m sure he’d have no problem putting them in their place,” JJ says, and I roll my eyes.
“I’m fine, I swear. I just miss you all. It’s weird being at the house without everyone there.”
“Henry isn’t part of the reason you’re upset, right?” Mom asks as I start my car.
“I’m sure you know about the campaign the organization put together to boost Henry’s popularity. My boss is handling everything, so I’m helping with it, but I’m struggling to be professional with Henry. He’s being a little difficult about . . . well, everything . Today was only our first day, but I don’t want him to be upset with me, because it’s not personal? I guess maybe it’s a good thing I was assigned to this, since I’m not sure I could stand working closely with the other interns every day. They treat me like I’m a zoo animal, like I’m only there because of Dad and Uncle Owen, which is bullshit, but I can’t make them believe it.”
I am just so frustrated with everything.
JJ sighs, and I feel bad complaining about this to them. I’m twenty, and I should be able to handle this. I’ve only been dealing with it my whole life, growing up in the spotlight. JJ’s felt it nearly as much as I have, but his life has been slightly more normal.
He chose to go to high school, whereas I was homeschooled to keep up with my gymnastics training schedule. JJ might not have competed in the Olympics, but he was listed as one of the top recruits of his graduating class, prior to committing to Beaumont University. There were a lot of eyes on him in the athletic world, being Sebastian Walker’s eldest son and all.
Hunter and Bailey have had better luck hiding in plain sight, but they’re still not normal teenagers by any means.
“Mira, I’m sure Henry knows it’s your job. I don’t think he’ll be upset with you as long as you don’t use anything personal from outside of work. It’s a fine line you’re going to have to walk, but you knew he was on the team when you took the job, and that this could be a potential conflict of interest.” Mom is surprisingly the calm voice of reason. This doesn’t happen very often. “However, fuck your coworkers because they don’t even know you. Let them stare and see how far you go.” Yeah, that calmness didn’t last long.
I wipe my eyes, laughing. Some things just never change.
“Dude, you’re awesome. They’re just jealous. Mom’s right, they don’t even know you, so fuck them.”
“ JJ , language,” Mom scolds.
I can only imagine how hard JJ is rolling his eyes. “Mom, that’s bullshit . You and Dad swear more than anyone I know. Wait—Chris maybe swears more, but still. We should be focused on hearing Mira say fuck them because seriously, fuck them.”
“Fuck them,” I agree, smiling widely for the first time all night.
“That’s my girl.”
“All for fucking, but who are we fucking?” I hear Dad ask in the background, and Mom gives him a quick rundown. “I’m calling Owen,” he announces, and I immediately regret calling them in the first place. I don’t want my dad to be a stadium legacy and my mom to be the head coach’s sister right now; I just want them to be my parents.
“Sebastian fucking Walker, if you pick up that goddamn phone to call my brother, you better just take your pillow right on outside with you, since that’s where your ass will be sleeping tonight.”
I mute myself before she can hear me laugh, but honestly, it’s ironic how many curse words she just said after scolding JJ for saying “fuck”. JJ doesn’t mute his soon enough, but Mom is too busy threatening Dad to either notice or care.
“Love, you’re overreacting—”
“Don’t tell me when I’m overreacting, especially when you’re the one overreacting. Just be glad I told you that you could take your pillow. We raised our daughter to be strong and capable of fighting her own battles. That doesn’t mean having you step in the second things sound hard. Mirabelle will tell us if she needs us for more than our unconditional love and support,” Mom says, and you can hear the daggers being thrown his way.
As odd as it might be, I miss hearing them fight. It’s always over stupid stuff, but if they weren’t fighting, I’d be worried.
“Thanks, Mom,” I say, jumping in before Dad can dig himself a deeper hole. “Dad, I promise I’m fine. It’s nothing I can’t handle, I just miss you guys.”
“You’re your mother’s daughter. Don’t forget to let them swing first, and then hit ’em back twice as hard,” he says.
He’s been telling me that for as long as I can remember, it’s the only way I survived growing up with three brothers. Personality wise, I’m very similar to my mom. She’s been known for raising hell more than a few times, although some of the specifics have been hidden from me and my siblings.
“Of course. They won’t know what hit them by the time I’m finished.”
“Atta girl,” he says, and I can hear the pride in his voice. “I promised Henry I’d come to the season opener, but I’m more excited to see you.”
“I love you, Dad.”
“I love you more, Mira.”
“But not as much as I love you,” Mom says, having to one-up Dad.
“Okay guys, we both love you, it’s not a competition, but hang up, please. Go be gross somewhere else where we can’t hear you,” JJ interjects, and I turn my car on, letting it switch to Bluetooth as my parents remember to tell JJ they love him too before hanging up.
I pull out of the parking lot, feeling a million times better than when I got in the car. “It’s just me now. Are you really okay?” JJ asks again, and I love him for it.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I was upset, but it made me feel better listening to Mom and Dad fight. It felt normal.”
“I get that, but I don’t miss walking in on them making out. It’s gross to even think of our parents like that, let alone seeing it with my own eyeballs.” JJ makes a dramatic shuddering sound, but he’s not wrong.
“Very gross,” I agree.
“And Henry? How’s that going, aside from being upset he needs help with his PR?”
What a perfect mood killer for the bit of joy I had regained. “It couldn’t be going worse. Every time I step into his line of sight, he stares at me like he’s horrified. It’s awful. In addition to now seeing me as the enemy, my boss figured out that we know each other, and she wants me to essentially exploit my relationship with him just like Mom told me not to do. But, on the bright side, Henry’s friend spilled hot coffee on me today, so I’m now the lucky owner of a shirt that Henry so kindly offered me.”
“But, you’re not going to do that, right?”
“Fuck, if you even have to ask that, then you clearly don’t know me very well. I know what this world is like, JJ. He doesn’t want to do it, but if I don’t do my job, I’ll get fired.”
JJ is quiet for a moment, pausing to think. “Would that be the worst thing in the world? It doesn’t sound like you like it all that much.”
“Besides the fact my coworkers suck, Henry hating me, and my boss being scary as hell, I do love it. Being at the stadium all day every day is incredible. It’s a different perspective than we got being there with Dad, and I love having a purpose again.”
“Well, I guess it’s good you have a purpose, but maybe for the sake of your love life, you can make that a purpose, too. Anyway, your boss can’t be anywhere near the level of scariness that Mom is,” JJ says, and I think if he were next to me, I might smack him.
“First of all, maybe you should focus on your own love life instead of mine. I have this handled with Henry. I’m going to start dressing extra hot so instead of staring at me in horror, he realizes how hot I am. What’s your plan for getting over your little girlfriend?” I tease, turning the conversation back on JJ.
“I have no plans to get over Marley, but she’s not my girlfriend.”
“JJ, we’re hot, single athletes. I’m in love with someone who will probably never return my feelings, and you’re pining for a girl whose last name you don’t know, that you spent less than a day with. Why are we like this?”
For spring break last year, our family spent the week at our house in the countryside of France, and JJ met an American girl at the café in the village. He fell head over heels for her, but forgot to get some crucial details, like her full name or phone number. JJ’s been looking for her ever since with no luck so far.
He snorts, clearly finding it as funny as I do. “Because we grew up watching our parents be sickeningly in love. We’re hopeless romantics.”
“Hopeless for sure,” I agree, pulling into our neighborhood. “Hey, have you heard from Bailey? I sent him a text the other day and never heard back.”
“No, he’s been ignoring all my calls and texts, so I was going to ask you the same thing,” JJ says, sighing. “Hunter said he’s been a jerk the last two weeks, so if you have time, would you be willing to go to the beach house this weekend to check on him? I have a bad feeling, but my schedule is insane, and I’m not sure when I’ll be able to get back.”
“Yeah, it’s no biggie. It’s not like I have any friends to hang out with here, so at least I can force Bailey and Hunter to hang out with me,” I say, poking fun at my sad social life. There’s a distinct smell of smoke in the air, but it must be some teenager having a fire pit in their backyard. I’m glad they have someone to hang out with. “All seriousness, I’ll head there after leaving work Friday.”
“What do you think is going on with . . .” JJ’s voice tunes out in my head as I go to turn onto our street. I see flashing lights everywhere, and I can’t just smell the smoke, I can see it.
“JJ, shut up,” I say quietly, parking my car up the street since all the spots in front of the house are filled with emergency vehicles.
“That’s rude, I’m trying to tal—”
“JJ,” I say his name sharply, and he stops immediately.
Oh shit. I climb out of the car, and I’m immediately met by a police officer. “Miss, please get back in your car,” he says, holding up a hand to stop me.
“That’s my house.” I point, and his face immediately shifts to one of sympathy, silently telling me ours was the one on fire.
Mom and Dad are going to kill me. I’ve been here for two weeks, and the house is on fire.
“I’m going to bring someone over to speak with you. Just a moment,” he says, backing away.
I didn’t straighten my hair, so there’s no way I accidentally left it on. I ate a granola bar for breakfast on the way to the coffee shop, so I didn’t cook anything.
Was there something else I could have done to cause this?
I stare at the house in horror, smoke burning my eyes, and put the phone back to my ear. “JJ, I’ll call you back. I have to call Mom . . . and hope she doesn’t murder me for the house burning down.”