Chapter 5 Lex
Lex
My mother’s garbled voice manages to reach my ears as I float beneath the crystal-blue water. Sunlight filters through, a soft contrast to the shrapnel sounding from above.
“Lexington! Dammit, get out of there.”
Fuck it all.
There’s nowhere to hide in this big-ass, smothering house.
I shoot up from the bottom and break the surface, shaking chlorine droplets out of my hair. Mom stands at the base of the in-ground, free-form pool, her garnet toenail polish blending with the line of flower bushes rimming the edge. “What.”
“There’s an audition in the city tomorrow at noon. Bianca pulled some strings, so you should plan to be there.”
Because she’s such a saint. “Can’t. I have school.”
She narrows her eyes at me, arms crossing over a lacy white kimono. “I’ll call you out.”
“No can do. Big test.”
Before I can sink back under, Mom snaps her fingers at me and lurches forward.
“We moved across the country for you. Uprooted our entire lives, and for what? Because you were jaded . Depressed and reclusive, bordering on mutinous.” Her lips thin.
“Your father is busting his ass to get us back on our feet. You’re going to pull your weight around here too. ”
“I’m sure you’re real broken up about Dad’s long hours at the office.”
Shadows skate across her painted face. “Don’t.”
I lean back and float across the water, staring up at the wispy clouds. So free. So peaceful. By society’s standards, I have it all, and here I am, jealous of the goddamn sky.
Water splashes my mother’s bare toes when I kick my feet, and she steps backward with an addled sigh.
“Besides,” I continue, leisurely making my way around the pool. “I do pull my weight. I go to school, do my homework, don’t talk back unless it’s warranted.” It’s always warranted. “You know, teenager shit.”
“You’re more than the average teenager, Lexington, and you know that. You have responsibilities to uphold. I paved a star-studded path for you, and you seem apt to throw it all away. It doesn’t make any sense.”
My jaw tightens. She has no fucking idea. “Did I tell you that I got the lead role in the school musical?” I definitely didn’t tell her that. “ Moulin Rouge! Thought you’d be proud.”
Mom sighs again, the sound more worn out than addled now. “A high school play. We both know that’s beneath you.”
“So says the woman known for playing Susan, the snakelike widow, in the daytime drama Secrets of Sacramento . A deep, insightful interpretation of melodrama and manipulation.”
“Don’t mock me.”
“Stage acting takes grit, you know. Real talent. Just because I’m not out on the streets of LA trying to impress money-hungry suits doesn’t mean I’m entirely useless.
” I lift up and wade over to the edge of the pool, resting my forearms along the ledge.
Mom stares down at me with a ticking jaw and pointed stare. “Could be fun.”
“It’s not about fun. It’s about carving out your future, earning your successes through hard work.” Her posture slackens, the fire in her eyes softening to a dull gleam. “What happened to you? You used to be so…”
I tear my eyes away from hers and shove back the dark memories trying to claw their way through me.
I can’t let her see. Can’t let her know.
Popping out of the pool with a splash, I twist around and take a seat, dangling my feet in the water with my back to her. “I used to be what? Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed?”
“Something like that.” She takes a seat beside me on the edge, her own feet dipping into the crystalline blue. “You were right on the cusp of moving into adult roles, claiming your spot among the greats. You had the world at your fingertips. And then something snapped.”
“Hollywood just wasn’t what I wanted anymore.”
That’s not entirely true.
Acting was… everything .
But the thought of stepping back in that city is a tumor in my lungs. A terminal weight.
“I wish you’d talk to me,” Mom says, her voice lowering to a whisper as her golden curls sparkle under the midday sun. “You’ve changed.”
Maybe I have. But it wasn’t by choice.
The world changed me.
Leaning back on my palms, I glance up at the sky again, ignoring the statement.
“Acting rebellious,” she continues. “Skipping classes, getting into collisions only a month into relocating. That McLaren was not cheap.”
“I saw the price tag.”
“I don’t understand how you can be so careless with these gifts we’ve given you.”
My head jerks toward her, my gaze thinning. I wave my hand around at the four-story mansion behind us, the brick and limestone and cedar glimmering with superficial prestige. “I’m supposed to be grateful for all this? It’s just a shell. A pretty lie.”
She winces. “Love comes in many forms.”
“That’s just a piss-poor excuse to relieve your conscience of your failures.”
“Stop it. You’re being ridiculous,” she dismisses, a new bite to her tone. “That’s insomnia talking. I know you’ve been up all night, doing God knows what.”
“It doesn’t surprise me you have cameras in my room.”
My mother shakes her head, her features hardening. “I don’t have cameras in your bedroom, Lexington. Your light is always on. I hear you up and about, playing your music, probably summoning spirits from the underworld.”
“Right. That’s what I’m doing.”
“Are you hanging around with those satanic kids at school?”
“I’m not hanging around with anyone.” Fuck this —I’m out. I pull myself to my feet and shake the water out of my hair, watching my mother flinch under the icy spray. “For the record, I’m not on a mission to make friends. With parents like you and Dad, who needs them?”
“Lex—”
“Tell Bianca I appreciate her selfless string pulling, but I’ll pass on the audition.” Then I mumble under my breath, “And tell her she can fuck right off.”
Mom’s voice follows me, carrying across the lush yard. “I love you.”
I wave a hand over my shoulder. “I know.”
Then I storm into the house, snatch up my key fob, and plow through the arched front door.
***
I’m not sure why I end up here. Parked in front of a cozy red farmhouse with chipped paint and droopy shutters. The acreage is vast, the trees towering, so my newly restored McLaren is mostly camouflaged by the dense foliage.
I wonder what it’s like to live like this.
To live, period.
As I crack the window, the scent of fresh hay and earth fills my nose. Chickens peck at the ground near a weathered shed, its roof sagging slightly under the weight of winter storms. The fields stretch out in a patchwork of green and gold, dotted with pastel wildflowers.
I see a figure in the distance, moving with purpose.
A middle-aged woman. Her straw hat casts a shadow over her face as she tends to a garden lined with rows of vegetables.
Tomatoes, corn, beans; who the fuck knows.
My diet consists of DoorDash and the occasional chef’s cuisine when Mom throws her insufferable martini mixers.
Beside the woman, a wooden swing hangs from an ancient oak tree, its ropes frayed but sturdy. Memories lurk within every creak and sway. The kind of memories I never had the chance to experience. Innocence and all that shit.
The simplicity of it is overwhelming. This is light-years away from the sleek lines and sharp edges of my own life.
Here, everything feels…
Timeless.
Unburdened.
Smack!
I nearly hit the fucking ceiling.
“Jesus Christ.” Jerking to the left, I come face-to-face with Stevie St. James wearing a scowl of bewilderment. I press a button to lower the driver’s side window all the way and upstage her scowl with a glare. “What the hell?”
“What the hell, me? What the hell, you .”
“I’ve heard that line before.”
“No. Last time it was ‘fuck.’”
She blinks at me like she’s waiting for something, but I’m not sure what to say because she definitely caught me lurking around her property like a creep, and it’s not a good look.
“What are you doing here?” She pops both hands on her curvy hips, a little pair of denim shorts swallowing her upper thighs.
My gaze trails to her face, meeting with a galaxy of freckles on the bridge of her nose and two minty green eyes. I lean back in the seat, trying to appear unruffled, even though I feel like a total dumbass. “Told you we should meet up to go over lines.”
“Right now?” She starts chewing on her thumbnail, her dark brows bending. “I didn’t realize you were just going to show up at my house. This is weird.”
“I didn’t get your number. You said you lived in the red barn.”
“It’s a farm.”
“Whatever.”
We stare at each other. The breeze picks up, taking her thick brown ponytail with it.
Stevie sighs and crosses her arms, the motion pushing up her breasts. “I can’t tonight. I’m in charge of cooking dinner.”
“Tell someone else to do it.”
She squints at me. “That’s not how it works. We take turns. Tuesdays and Fridays are my nights.”
Weird, but okay. “Fine. Next week then.”
“Maybe.”
We revert back to the silent stare-off.
Stevie pulls away first, scanning the leafy tree line. “Why are you wet?” she wonders, pretending that the undulating branches are more interesting than me. Her cheeks pinken in the daylight as she adds, “And half-naked.”
I glance down at my bare torso.
Guess I forgot to grab a shirt.
My soaked swim trunks bleed into the leather interior as I prop an elbow out the open window and skim my fingers through my mop of slow-drying hair. “I went swimming. Why are you out here by the road?”
“I was reading.”
My attention swings to the expanse of grass behind me, where a checkered blanket is spread out beside the base of a big tree, topped with a book and a ceramic bowl of green grapes. The image is so wholesome. “Why?”
She blinks back over to me. “Why what?”
“Why are you doing that?”
“Reading?”
“Yeah.”
“Because I enjoy reading,” she says, like it’s really fucking obvious. “What do you enjoy?”
I open my mouth to speak before realizing…I don’t know. Do I have any hobbies? Interests? I like acting. For a long time, it was my entire life.
Now?
I’m not sure. Whatever passes the time, I guess.
But that sounds thoroughly pathetic, so I reroute the statement and pin it on her. “Curious about me, Nicks?”
More blush brightens her cheeks, turning them rosy. “Not really.”
“What’s your mom like?”
The question takes her off guard as she glances at me, then wheels her focus to across the field. Her mom is still bent over the garden, plucking veggies from stems and placing them in a wicker basket. “Um…she’s great.”
I nod, shifting in my seat. “Do you guys grow your own dinner and shit?”
“Components of it, yes. The fruits and vegetables. Eggs.” Stevie slips her fingertips into the pockets of her shorts and shrugs her shoulders. “We have a cow for dairy.”
“You have a fucking cow?”
“Emmy. She’s grazing behind the house.”
I stare at the red house as if I can see right through it.
A fucking cow.
Scratching at the shadow of stubble lining my jaw, I look back over at her.
She’s fidgeting now, shuffling between both bare feet and sinking her toes into the spongy grass. “Why are you still here?” Stevie says it with full-fledged curiosity and not a trace of hostility. She’s genuinely confused by my prolonged trespassing. “Were you looking to…talk?”
“Not much of a talker.”
Her nose scrunches up at that.
It’s cute.
A wash of silence blankets us, deflating her shoulders and smoothing out the crease in her nose.
“Your audition…” Stevie leans into the car, her fingers curling around the doorframe.
“It was good, Lex. Really good.” Swallowing, she studies me for a beat, her green eyes trailing over my stoic expression. “I was impressed.”
Sunshine bathes her in a warm crown of light, distracting me for a handful of seconds. Then her words register, and my brows pull together. I could use the moment to let my guard down, to be raw and honest, to thank her for the compliment.
She doesn’t realize how freeing it felt to be up on that stage.
She doesn’t know how nice it is to hear those words.
But I can’t muster a response, can’t bring myself to be vulnerable with her so close, so I say nothing. If she was looking for more, she’ll be searching forever.
She must know this, because her face falls, expression wilting. “Okay then,” she breathes out, glancing inside my car’s splashy interior. “The next few months will be interesting.”
“It’ll be a testament to your acting chops. Can you sway an audience into believing you’re hopelessly smitten with me?”
She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth and makes a hissing sound. “Yes.”
My pulse revs.
I eye her, reluctantly intrigued.
I haven’t had a ton of roles yet—just three seasons of that prime-time sitcom when I was nine and two commercials.
But nobody I’ve worked with has ever possessed the talent I witnessed when she shined brighter than the stage strobes, practically moving the director to tears.
Her skill was its own art form, lighting her up like a masterpiece in motion.
Her audition took my breath away.
Maybe I’ll tell her that.
Someday.
For now, all I say is “Guess we’ll find out.”
“Are you worried?”
My lips twitch as I lean out the window, our faces inching closer together. “Worried about what?”
We’re a hairsbreadth apart. Her eyes glitter every shade of green, a smile hinting on her pillowy lips. “That I’ll outshine you on opening night.”
Our eyes are locked and loaded, and the back of my neck prickles with a shot of exhilaration. An ancient feeling that’s been sealed up and buried under layers of cakey mud.
The car purrs to life.
Looking away, I shove the gear lever into the Drive position, ignoring the way my heartbeats drum like a heavy percussion line. “Right,” I mutter. “Dream on, Nicks.”
I pull back out onto the gravel road and glance at Stevie in the rearview mirror. She’s standing at the edge of her property line, arms still folded, expression steeped in confusion.
My lips turn up as I gun the engine, pebbles and debris scattering behind me in a flurry of dust and sound.
But it’s not a smirk.
I think it’s a smile.