Prologue #2
“Oh, Grace,” Grant singsonged, reaching into his jacket pocket, displaying the signature embroidered monogram.
Details like that didn’t go unnoticed in our world, and I was sure Grant took every chance he could to flaunt his status through his clothing.
Between his fingertips, Grant held what was often a much-needed escape for me.
For all his faults, he did always bring the best party favors.
The fine, crystal-like white powder was my drug of choice.
The high that came with just one bump of cocaine was unlike any other.
Anybody from our circle who told you that they didn’t do drugs was either lying or they had a prescription from a “doctor.” I wasn’t addicted by any means—my use definitely leaned more toward recreational than habitual—but I enjoyed the high, literally.
It was like being transported anywhere but reality, and I so desperately needed a change of pace.
Grant went over to my coffee table, tapped the powder onto the mahogany surface, and pulled out a rolled-up hundred-dollar bill.
“Be grateful that I bought the good shit,” Grant boasted before taking the first hit with his money. “Now it’s a party, ladies.”
Julia rolled her eyes and turned away from Grant. It was almost as if looking at him made her sick.
If only the tabloids knew about his little side hustle. The golden boy wouldn’t seem so shiny.
I took the bill from him, leaned over, and plugged one side of my nose, inhaling the little bit of salvation. As I came up from the table, I looked at Julia and offered her the bill.
Julia seemed reluctant to take it but eventually said, “Fuck it.”
Grant just laughed in the background as he always did. A haughty sound that grated my nerves. He would purse his lips and watch the room like he owned it. His father had more money than God, a fact Grant capitalized on. But who cared about Grant?
At some point, I left him downstairs in the living room, giving him full reign of my liquor cabinet. Julia followed me upstairs so I could finish getting ready.
Thankfully, she sat quietly on my bed as I changed into the outfit Beaute sent over.
It was a tweed skirt with a matching button-down jacket.
My trench coat was also custom-made to fit the theme of black and white.
The heels I slipped my feet into were mile-high and sure to give me blisters, but they didn’t say there was a thin line between fashion and pain for nothing.
I didn’t even bother showing Julia. She wouldn’t have appreciated it. Fashion wasn’t her thing.
As I walked out of the bathroom, I saw Julia fumble with an orange bottle. Her grip faltered and it rolled to my feet.
When I went to pick it up, she shoved me. “Julia,” I gasped, shocked at her behavior.
“Stop, Grace!” Julia shouted, her hands flying everywhere.
The bottle rolled behind me, so I turned and grabbed it, elbowing Julia to block her from intercepting it.
Turning it in my hand, I saw it was a prescription pill bottle. I had barely gotten the chance to read the label before Julia forcefully snatched it away from me.
Zoloft.
So Julia was on antidepressants. Why didn’t she tell me she was depressed?
I pursed my lips, looked at her, and muttered, “Sorry.” I then went over to my walk-in closet to get my lipstick and crossbody. I had to get out of the room and away from Julia’s disapproval. Away from the glances of disgust as I primped in the mirror that made my stomach do flips.
When I said sorry, I really didn’t even know which part I was apologizing for.
I’m sorry I didn’t know you were struggling.
I’m sorry I’m not who you want me to be.
I’m sorry you’re not who I need you to be.
I’m sorry all of this is weighing on you.
But of course, I didn’t verbalize any of that.
When I stepped back into the room, Julia made a dash out of the door wordlessly. At least she didn’t pick a fight with me. Thank goodness for small blessings.
As I heard her footsteps on the hardwood stairs, I snapped out of my daze and followed quickly behind her.
She couldn’t leave—no, not like this.
I had to fix this.
Who knows how long it would take for her to visit me again after this fiasco.
“Jules, wait,” I called from behind her.
She crossed her arms and turned to face me. Her face was red from anger, embarrassment, and probably exertion from running down the stairs.
“It’s fine.” She waved me off, put her shoes on, and zipped her hoodie, placing the hood over her stringy blonde hair. God, she needed a hair treatment— not the time, Grace!
I grabbed her arm. “Please, Jules, don’t go,” I pleaded, on the verge of tears.
“You don’t need me. You’ve got your knight in shining armor over there.” Julia jerked her chin toward Grant. I’d totally forgotten his presence.
“I can be your knight in shining armor too, sweetheart,” Grant cooed with his usual smarm.
Maybe I should break things off with him. It wasn’t like the sex was good.
“Fuck you!” Julia shouted at Grant and then turned to me. “If this sleazeball is who you want around you, Grace, then I can’t fucking help you. And I certainly don’t want to watch this train wreck.”
Before I could say anything, Grant jumped in. “Well, it’s not like you’re sister of the year. You can’t be bothered to stick around for long. I mean, look at the state of you. Are you seriously doling out life advice?”
Julia balled her hand into a fist at her side, and I quickly reached for her arm before she clocked Grant. Last thing Julia needed was any more misdemeanors and headlines for my mother to see. Let alone the charges Grant and his family could pursue.
“Now you’re defending your boy toy? That’s rich after everything we’ve been through!” Julia shouted, wiggling her arm free. She fake lunged at Grant, and he backed away dramatically.
“I’m not defending him,” I shouted. “I’m protecting you.”
Julia gave me a face of disgust. “Okay, now you really are Mom.” She bolted for the door, yanking it open and stepping outside. The rain had lessened to a drizzle, but the air was still chilled, and everything was slick.
I ran after her, almost tripping face-first with the high heels I was wearing.
Julia raced down the steps, stopping at the bottom one to pull out her cigarettes. Before she could light one, I knocked the pack out of her hand, sending it tumbling into the street. Julia shoved me and I shoved her back.
“Ladies, ladies, no need to fight. Let’s go inside. I’m sure there’s a more productive way to work out all this tension,” Grant taunted, leaning against the doorjamb and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.
I glanced up at him and rolled my eyes, and Julia gave him the finger as she walked toward the curb to find her cigarettes.
“Julia, what do you expect? Me to leave my life here and run away with you to no-man’s-land?” I yelled, not giving a shit about the fact that we were in public.
My saving grace was the late hour and how dark it was outside.
Her actions were really starting to piss me off. She just waltzed in and acted like she could control me. Like she had any right to have a say over how I lived my life. She knew nothing about me.
Then that stupid little voice in my head said, “Like your mother already controls you?” Instead of using the thought to be rational, I used it to strengthen my argument.
“It’s bad enough you left me alone with Mom.
Now you’re punishing me for becoming like her?
What did you expect? Why are you trying to weasel your way back into my life, anyway?
Did you run out of money? Here to hit up the Bank of Grace again?
” I screeched and blew out a breath. “Mother was right about you—you’re nothing but a desperate slut wanting attention. ” I gestured toward Grant.
My argument was weak, and I was grasping at straws.
Even if Grant wanted more with Julia, she’d never indicated the feeling was mutual.
But the time for sensible thinking had flown out the window the second Julia made to leave again.
I was lashing out at her to hide the way her constant running away was hurting me.
Repeating the lies my mother told me to bury what I was sure was guilt over failing as a parent.
I shook my head to try to gain some clarity.
What the fuck was I doing? Regret washed over me as my hate-filled words registered in my mind.
Despite the pain I felt at being abandoned, I couldn’t blame Julia for wanting to escape every chance she got.
After all, I used drugs to do just that. She chose distance instead.
I bit my lip and faced Julia who was now semi in the street. “Jules, wait. I’m sorry.” I ran my fingers through my hair, not caring how I was messing it up.
Julia grabbed the pack of cigarettes and walked toward the sidewalk, but the wet pavement caused her to miss the step back onto the curb, and she stumbled backwards.
Her hand stretched for me to take, her eyes going wide when headlights flashed as a car rounded the corner.
I ran toward her, my arm outstretched to catch her, but?—
In that moment as I held her limp body against my chest, tears streaming down my face, I was anything but proud of who I had become.