Chapter 5 Eden
Eden
Boots or sneakers. Boots. Or. Sneakers.
A conundrum that’s had me stumped for the past twenty minutes. I’m not at my best in the mornings.
If I choose sneakers, it might look like I’m actually making an effort with this whole walking thing Sloane is so pumped about, and that could lead her to think I really want to do it.
Which I don’t. But then again, I also don’t want her to think I’m not appreciative of the fact she’s wangled me out of gym next semester.
A brisk walk to school isn’t so bad. I could definitely wear my boots without the risk of getting a blister. However, if I don’t wear my sneakers in, I will get sore feet when it comes time to…oh god, I can’t believe I’m about to say it. When the time comes for me to…run.
I think I just threw up in my mouth.
Maybe I should see how this morning’s walk to school goes and judge it from there. Okay, decision made. Boots it is.
Shoving on my Docs, I check myself out in the mirror.
Nothing out of the ordinary. Favourite Red Hot Chili Peppers band t-shirt artfully ripped in several places.
Black skinny jeans faded slightly at the knees.
Today seems like a plain ruby red hoodie kind of day.
My hair is a mess, just how I like it, and my eye makeup looks like it’s already been on my face for twenty-four hours. Perfect.
My alarm rings. Ten minutes until Sloane arrives.
At my house.
I still can’t believe it.
Senior year is kicking arse so far. Minus Mr Porter, that is.
Mum has my usual scrambled eggs ready with buttered toast. Yes, I’m a vegetarian who eats eggs. I can’t quite go full vegan yet.
“Morning, love.”
I head over and give Mum a kiss on the cheek.
She’s wearing one of Dad’s huge band t-shirts.
It’s no mystery where I get my sense of style and musical taste from.
Both parents are rockers in the privacy of our home.
At work, they both have to be a little more upstanding. Or boring, as I like to see it.
Dad is a banker, and Mum is a lawyer. They make decent money, but nothing like Pia or Sloane’s parents.
They also expect me to work for what I want.
The car I drive is the result of working over the summer as Mum’s receptionist. It was soul-sucking work but worth it in the end.
Plus, I got to hang out with Mum more. Her boss was cool, too.
He wasn’t all that bothered about me dressing in my regular clothes.
We got chatting about art, and that made everything better.
Oh, and I got to avoid Lucifer, aka Jenna, my sister.
That was probably the biggest draw of the whole experience.
Jenna seriously makes me question having kids.
Back to my parents. They both know I never intend to follow in their footsteps.
Corporate anything makes my skin itch. Plus, my grandma would legit throw a fit.
She’s my mentor and inspiration where art is concerned.
My school holidays and summer vacations were always spent at my grandparents’ house growing up.
Gran is an extremely talented painter, sculptor, and glass blower.
She has an amazing studio at the back of her house that my grandad built for her in the late 60s.
It’s my dream house. I just need to find a version of it over here, and by the ocean.
Leaving them was awful, but they visit every year.
Grandad likes to give me updates on the VW.
It’s going to be a complete rust bucket by the time I get around to using it, if I ever do.
It’s not like I want to import it to the States, and now I’ve lived here for a while I don’t intend to move back to the UK, so it should probably be sold.
Gran spends the entire visit by the pool with a cocktail, listening to music and looking through my pieces.
I can’t wait until they come over again.
“Dad already gone?”
“Of course. But he said he’ll be home early to attend Jenna’s parent-teacher evening.”
“Ugh, good luck with that!” I’d rather gargle testicles than suffer through their evening.
“Not planning on showing some sisterly support, then.” Mum laughs.
“I’m showing sisterly support by not murdering her. She had a complete meltdown last night because I walked past the TV. According to Lucifer, I made her miss something vitally important.”
Mum snorts. “Will you stop calling her that!”
“If the horns fit,” I reply. My eggs are getting cold, and Slone will be here in minutes.
“So, listen,” I say, shovelling my breakfast in my mouth.
When I finally swallow, Mum is giving me her undivided attention and a grimace due to my pig-style eating.
“Sloane is coming by and we’re walking to school. ”
Mum is mightily impressed I’m doing the Couch to 5k with her. Dad looked concerned, but I assured him I was fine, and Lucifer—sorry, Jenna—scoffed and made a rude comment.
“I’m looking forward to meeting her.”
I nod. “Sure, sure. But could you like, be chill? I’m enough of a prat around her for the both of us. I’d like the morning to start off with as little embarrassment as possible.”
The doorbell chimes, and Mum whips me with a tea towel as she walks past towards the door. “I’m the chillest mum, and you know it.”
She is, that’s fair.
A cold draught snakes up the back of my hoodie as Mum opens the door and greets Sloane. They spend a few seconds conversing before I hear footsteps approach. I do a quick swipe of my face to make sure there’s no rogue egg stuck to my chin or something.
“Eden, Sloane’s here.”
Turning, I shoot her a small smile. Can’t be too eager.
“Mornin’,” I say. Sloane looks lovely. She’s in comfy-looking jeans and her letterman jacket.
I’m so used to seeing her in the cheer uniform it takes me a second to adjust to the sight of her.
She’s so fucking fit, and I don’t mean that in the literal health way.
In England, we’d say she’s fit as fuck. Crude, but true.
“Morning, Eden.”
“Ready to go?” I say. I just heard Jenna open her bedroom door, and I don’t want any snide remarks thrown my way. Especially because she’d say something about my crush on Sloane and I would have to strangle her.
Saying that, though, I doubt Sloane would be surprised. All the queer girls have a crush on her. Fuck, most of the straight girls, too. Not mentioning the guys. I know Keira, the evil soccer captain, wants to ask her out. The rumour mill is efficient at Holcroft.
I wonder if Sloane will say yes when she finally gets asked. Hell, she and Kiera will have a lot more in common than me and her. They can be all preppy together. Gross.
“It was nice meeting you, Liz. Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”
“We’ll make sure of it. Have a lovely day, girls.”
Swiping the last piece of toast from my plate, I head to the door and grab my backpack. Just in the nick of time, too, because Jenna stomps her way down the stairs just as I shove Eden out the door.
“Eager?” She laughs, stumbling.
“Shit, sorry.”
“Is it really that bad having me in your house?”
Her tone says she’s joking, but her eyes tell me there’s a hint of worry that I might have a problem with her being here.
“I was being gallant. You were seconds away from meeting my demon sister, who doesn’t give a shit if you’re a guest or not. She’d still eat you for breakfast. So, I saved you.”
Sloane mocks me by swooning. “Oh, my hero.”
“Yeah, alright,” I snark playfully. “Are we just doing a normal stroll to school, or are you expecting a bit of race walking?”
Sloane huffs out a laugh. “Just walking today.”
Not wanting the conversation to die an awkward death, I ask her about the football match on Friday.
She saw me watching the cheer practice yesterday.
I’m not interested in the least about the game, but I have respect for the athletes.
I’ve seen how hard they work, and it creates a fun buzz around school when the season kicks off.
I also know Sloane and her team will compete at Nationals in February. That’s a lot of training.
“It will be a fun night. Are you coming?”
I’ve never attended a match. I wasn’t planning on starting now. “Nah, not my scene.”
“How do you know if you’ve never been to a game? You could fall in love with it.” She grins.
“I could also contract herpes from the bleachers.”
“Ew.”
“My sentiment entirely.”
Her shoulder knocks gently into mine as we walk. It will take about thirty minutes to get to school, which means plenty of time for me to get used to her proximity. It’s still daunting having her so close.
“Ah c’mon, Eden. Think of it as another challenge.”
“I’m not sure why you think I want another challenge. I’m barely on board with this one,” I say, waving to our surroundings. “I could be cosy in my car on the way to get coffee, singing at the top of my voice.”
She shrugs. “You can sing if you want.”
“Not the point.”
Sloane looks to the sky in mock irritation. “I’ve never met anyone who has an answer for everything like you do, Eden. Sheesh.”
“I’m one in a million, babe.” The delivery is deadpan, but it’s ruined by my face going red because I just called Eden Bishop babe.
“Hmmm.”
What does that mean?
“Er, so I was thinking about your art lessons.”
“Still want that to happen, huh?” she asks, wincing.
“We can call the deal off if you want?”
Unfortunately, she shakes her head. “Oh no. We’re doing this.”
“Then you’ll be painting.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Fine. When and where, Sawyer?”
“Oh shit, that’s some fighting talk. I’ll leave that up to you. I think my day is less crammed than yours.”
We’re only a few minutes from school now. Bryce and his buddies cruise past in his BMW. He pulls up a few metres away.
“Hey Sloane, wanna jump in?”
“No thanks, I’m good.”
“Cool. Hey UK.”
“Bryce.”
We watch him speed off.
Sloane turns to face me with an amused smile. “UK?”
“Yeah, ’coz Eden is two letters too many.”
She snorts. I grin because, damn, I like making her laugh. “So, the art lesson. Any ideas when you’re free?”
“Saturday? I take the day off, especially after a game.”
“I’ll be nice and let you have a sleep in then. Shall we say lunchtime at my place? I’ll make you the best veggie pasta bake you’ve ever tasted.”
Is this sounding like more of a date? Am I asking her on a date?
“You cook?”
“Believe it or not, I’m pretty fucking awesome in the kitchen. I can’t bench press a turkey leg, but I can cook a mean pasta dish.”
Her eyes sparkle. “When I’m done with you, you’ll be able to bench press the whole bird.”
My throat goes dry, because my seventeen-year-old brain is making up some pretty dirty things right now. But when Sloane Bishop says the words ‘when I’m done with you,’ I can’t help it. My ever-growing libido has hijacked my brain.
“Eden?”
“Yeah, yes, turkey legs. What?”
“Oh my god, you’re too much.” She laughs, momentarily grabbing the front of my hoodie before walking off.
How have I gone nearly four years without knowing this girl? Having her close to me and seeing her laugh is like the best thing in the world.
Ah, yes, I remember. She’s super hot, popular, and loves everything I hate. It’s a real kick to the crotch.
Walking faster than my normal pace, I catch up to her just as we round the corner to school. Sloane’s bestie, Becca, is waiting in the car park for her with two cups of coffee. Pia is not waiting for me at all, let alone with coffee. She needs to up her bestie game, ASAP.
“How was the walk?” Becca calls. I’m not sure if I should continue walking with Sloane or quietly slip away. What’s the etiquette?
“Very pleasant,” Sloane replies, turning to look at me over her shoulder.
“I got you both coffee.”
She got me coffee?
“This is why I love you more than anyone.” Sloane moans as she clutches the coffee cup, looking at it with loving eyes.
“Eden?”
I realise Becca is holding the coffee out to me, and I’m too busy watching Sloane drink from hers to have noticed. My ears go red, and Becca smirks.
“Um, thanks. That’s really nice of you.”
I’ve spoken to Becca less than Sloane over the past three years. I’m surprised she knows my name, let alone bought me coffee from the best café in town.
“I’m all about women supporting women.”
“Right…girl power.”
Sloane snorts again. Becca cocks her eyebrow at her best friend. “Are you coming to the game on Friday?”
“Maybe?” There I go answering with a question, again.
“You can watch us do twirls and stuff,” Sloane remarks with a grin.
“I’ll see if Pia and Todd want to go. Not promising though.”
“There’s a rager afterwards at Bryce’s house,” Becca says, locking her car and starting towards the school entrance.
“Yeah, that’s not for me, but thanks for the invite.”
Becca just shrugs and skips a few steps ahead. I’d quite like Pia to rescue me now because I’m well out of my depth and comfort zone.
Sloane grins. “Parties not your style, UK?”
“Oh no, not UK, not from you. Eden. E-D-E-N,” I sound out.
“Dork.” Sloane laughs. Becca keeps throwing us looks over her shoulder.
“I’ve never seen the point in parties. The music is always too loud, and usually shit. Everyone gets pissed and vomits, or bangs someone they immediately regret after. That’s not fun to me.”
“Again, you might be surprised if you gave it a go.”
“Listen lady, I’m already walking and going to a football match.”
Sloane holds her hands up in surrender. “I hear you. I’ll take it slow.”
And there’s my libido again. Surely Sloane knows how she sounds when she says shit like that, right?
Pia comes jogging over, looking smug. “Still alive then?”
“Yes. I can walk, you know.”
“You’re coming to the match, right?” Becca says, interrupting whatever retort Pia was cooking up.
“I mean, I wasn’t, but I can.” She looks at me.
Becca claps. “Great. There, it’s settled. You, Pia, and Todd will be at the game, and we can discuss the party after.”
I feel like I did the other day when Sloane tricked me into exercising. Especially when Becca grabs Sloane’s arm, waves at us and marches them away.
“It happened again, didn’t it?” I choke.
Pia simply nods.
Right. Fantastic. I’m going to a football game.