8. Cruel Summer
CELESTE
Two years later
Locker doors slammedall around me in the wild craze that comes at the end of the school day. Summer break was just around the corner and my entire eighth grade class was eagerly awaiting its arrival. We were at the point in the school year where pretty much everyone had stopped caring about homework and grades because freedom was tantalizingly close. Even I found myself wistfully staring out the window at the bright sun and budding flowers during most of my classes. I was ready to have another perfect summer with Wesley before the daunting fear of high school crashed into reality.
“I swear, Mrs. Gallatin hates me!” Maggie whined as she slumped one shoulder against the locker next to me.
Maggie moved here in the middle of our seventh grade year after her parents divorced a couple counties over and her mom wanted a fresh start. Everybody looked at her like she was an alien simply for being new, so I had made it a point to befriend her. Wesley told me I needed to stop adopting lost puppies, but when I pointed out that included him, too, he merely grinned at me and swore he was different. Maggie and I had been practically sisters ever since.
“What happened?” I asked as I swapped out books from the locker shelf to load into my backpack.
“I was five minutes late to class because I had a bathroom emergency and she gave me detention!” Maggie threw up her hands in frustration.
Laughing, I clarified, “An actual bathroom emergency?” I already knew the answer because Maggie was obsessed with two things, makeup and boys. For all the times she claimed to have a “bathroom emergency” with me, I had yet to experience one that didn’t have something to do with one of the two.
She rolled her eyes at me but joined me in laughing. “Max Daniels was tooootally checking me out! I had to make sure my lipstick was on point!”
“Max Daniels is a douchebag,” Wesley said from behind me. “You can do better.”
I turned and flashed him a smile. He had grown a few more inches over the course of the past couple years and it felt like he towered over me now. Puberty was still as foreign to me as ancient Greek, so despite my recent 15th birthday, I retained my child-like figure and flat chest.
Maggie had already started blossoming what looked to be a good size set of boobs and more of an hourglass figure that I envied. We could no longer share clothes like we had only a few months ago because her shape was changing so rapidly. It seemed like all of my peers were lightyears ahead of me in maturity and development, and I tried not to feel embarrassed at the prospect of being left behind.
“Be nice, Wes,” I reminded him. Since Maggie had become friends with us, he was very protective of her.
Maggie just shrugged, though. “As long as he can give me my first kiss, I don’t really care. It’s gotta happen sometime, and I refuse to start high school with that kind of innocence!”
I chanced a quick glance over my shoulder at Wesley and found his bright blue eyes burning into mine. His smirk grew wider, and I diverted my eyes as I felt my cheeks start to redden. We had never told Maggie about our first kiss, almost two years ago now, that had never been repeated. I wasn’t sure why I wanted it to be a secret, but I loved having that remain a special moment between Wesley and me. Something only we could share.
“So you’re staying now for detention?” I asked Maggie in order to change the subject. I could still feel Wesley’s gaze boring into the back of my head.
She nodded glumly. “I’ll meet you over at the diner afterwards.”
The three of us had started walking over to The Comfy Cushion after school and taking over one of the bigger corner booths to work on homework while Marla supplied us with snacks. Wesley took his studies very seriously now, and after we had explained our philosophy on future freedom to Maggie, she did, too. Which was just as well because with how often Wes received in school suspensions for fighting in the boys’ locker room, he was liable to be expelled. No matter what kind of influence my family had over him, Wesley’s rage never dissipated and only worsened as we got older.
Wesley reached down and grabbed the handle to my backpack, tossing it over his shoulder like he did every day. “We’ll see you in a bit then,” he agreed.
Maggie turned and had only taken a few steps when she suddenly spun around and added, “Oh! I almost forgot! Hillary was talking about you in the bathroom earlier!” She winked at him and continued down the hall to detention.
Her words sent a slither of dread down to my stomach. It was common knowledge that Hillary Stanbrooke, the most popular girl in school, was obsessed with Wesley, yet he always tried to change the subject or ignore people’s remarks. He claimed that he wasn’t going to date until he was a little older, but I was pretty certain he only said that to make me feel better since Daddy said no daughter of his was allowed to date until high school. Given how crazy hormones had turned some of my classmates, his ultimatum never bothered me.
None of it meant that Wesley didn’t like Hillary, though. We had never even talked about our kiss under the fireworks the summer before last, just continued with our friendship as we always had, so I had no idea if it meant anything to him at all. He had become so engrained in my family that Nana and Daddy even permitted him to stay the night in the guest room a few times—conveniently located directly across the hall from Daddy’s open bedroom door. We were inseparable like all best friends were inseparable. So the possibility of ever being something more was only a vague dream in the deep recesses of my heart. That didn’t mean I wanted to see him with a girl as vapid and cruel as Hillary Stanbrooke, though. She made a rattlesnake look like a labrador puppy.
We walked in companionable silence up Main Street towards the restaurant. It was already hot, despite the early spring season, and within minutes I was piling my hair on top of my head to wrap a hair tie around it just to get the sweaty mess off my neck.
River’s Run Primary School, as it was called, housed grades K-8. There was one other primary school on the other side of the county, roughly a 35 minute drive away, but Smithson County High School was smacked directly in the middle and we would have to take a bus starting our freshman year. I was filled with dread at the prospect of a new school with more kids, but also at the possibility that Wesley might not be allowed to return with me.
His father had only come down to visit once in the nearly two years Wesley lived here, with inconsistent phone calls here or there, but Mr. Madden communicated heavily with Wesley by email. Wesley was the only person I knew who had a satellite cell phone with reception that worked even in the deepest part of the Georgia woods. Mr. Madden had insisted on it and continually warned Wes that the phone had a GPS tracking device that could pinpoint the exact room he stood in at any given moment.
I thought it was rather odd for Mr. Madden to track Wesley’s whereabouts so closely when he couldn’t even bother to call, but Wes shrugged it off. The past several emails had contained pointed advice about Wesley “living up to” the Madden family name and that now was the time for him to start taking his future seriously. He had even emailed a brochure for some fancy college preparatory academy that he stated had a reputation for producing the “leaders of the 21st century.” Wesley had punched a hole through the wall of the cafeteria in his rage, thereby earning another in school suspension. Daddy, Marla, and his great-aunt Shirley continued to smooth things over and prevent him from getting expelled, but it was only a matter of time before their pleas and promises ran dry.
From the corner of my eye, I caught Wes staring at me and glanced over with a smirk. “Can I help you?”
“I really like the way your hair curls when it’s wet,” he replied instantly.
I scrunched my nose in disgust at the compliment. My hair was only curling because I was getting sweaty, which was not something I wanted him to notice. “Don’t be gross!” I shoved him playfully.
He laughed and came right back to my side, standing closer this time, so that our hands were almost touching. It would have been the easiest thing in the world to lace his fingers through mine as we had done so many times. Yet it felt different now in a way that made my heart skip a beat, and I chickened out at the last second.
“It’s not like you can help it, Celeste,” he said. “I know it’s the Georgia heat. I’m just saying, you wear it well.”
I groaned. That compliment was just as awkward as the first!
Wesley’s face dropped for a split second as embarrassment flooded his features, but in a flash, he returned to his megawatt smile. “Geez, next time I’ll just ignore you.”
That didn’t make me feel any better, however. I didn’t want him to ignore me; I wanted him to think I was beautiful. Letting him fall a half step ahead, I followed him into The Comfy Cushion.
Marla was already setting a tall pitcher full of ice water and three glasses down on the table when we walked in. “Now, don’t let this sunshine stop you from acing those finals!” she chirped.
Wesley and I slid into opposite sides of the booth before she asked, “And where is Maggie? She better not be out with some boy!”
He grinned at me as he replied, “She got in trouble over one, so she’s stuck in detention.”
Marla sighed like the indiscretion offended her personally. “Lord, that girl’s gonna wind up pregnant before she gets her driver’s license.”
I rolled my eyes at her theatrics, but for once, Wesley frowned. “We would never let her get into that kind of trouble, Miss Marla,” he said firmly.
His answer must have somewhat appeased her because Marla dropped the subject. “I’ll bring over a veggie platter in a bit.”
“Only if it’s got Celeste’s chipotle ranch, please!” Wesley called after her retreating form. Marla merely held up a hand in acknowledgement.
The condiment had become Wesley’s favorite, but for some reason, hearing him say it now made my skin flush again. That was the first time I felt butterflies over a boy. I never had the courage to ask if Wesley felt them, too.
I shook my head against the memory flooding my thoughts. Is this what all crushes did to people? No wonder the kids in my class turned into morons when they discovered the opposite sex. “Let’s focus on our geometry, please,” I said curtly.
Before long, Maggie slid into the booth next to me, swearing that Mrs. Gallatin was secretly a witch who flew around on her broom at night. She made a dramatic show of slumping against me with a heavy sigh.
“Maggie, it’s just detention,” I reminded her. “Which you earned from being late.”
“Yeah, stop wasting your time on the likes of Max Daniels,” Wesley ordered. There was a clip to his tone that for a moment sounded like jealousy. The recess of my heart holding onto hope all but died out. Wesley had never had that tone with me before. Did he like Maggie? Was that the problem?
“Oh yeah? And who should I go out with instead?” Maggie countered.
Wesley nodded across the restaurant towards a table where some of the school baseball players were filing in after practice. “Cameron Wyatt,” he said, his voice low.
Maggie and I both turned to crane our heads over our shoulders and give Cameron a once over. He was pretty good-looking, actually, in a nerdy sort of way, with thick, black glasses and dark, curly hair. He was the great-grandson of the school superintendent and tended to lead all the academic clubs. I had overheard him once say that he hoped to attend Harvard University and study law.
In a way, I kind of agreed with Wesley’s assessment. “You could do worse,” I offered with a shrug.
Wesley shook his head. “His parents were high school sweethearts and his father always holds open the door for her anytime they’re out together. They look like two people still lovestruck, which means they’re teaching their son how to properly love someone. Don’t take that for granted.”
Maggie nodded her understanding and turned back around to assess Cameron with far more interest, but I kept my eyes on Wesley. His reasoning intrigued me because it must have taken some intentional observations on his part.
“Are you taking notes or something?” I joked.
Wesley grinned at me, a wicked smirk that made me forget to breathe. “Maybe.”
Suddenly, the door to The Comfy Cushion flew open with a bang and a harried looking aunt Shirley swept inside. Her snow white hair was flattened on one side, no doubt from falling asleep in her armchair like she did most afternoons, and one leg’s pantyhose had rolled down below the hem of her dress.
She scurried over to us with her wicker handbag fluttering at her elbow like a broken wing. “Wesley, your father is on his way! He’ll be in town within the hour!”
Maggie and I both turned to stare at Wesley. My mouth felt dry as I watched his face instantly pale with apprehension. Mr. Madden’s visit couldn’t be a good thing, especially when it was unannounced.
Daddy rounded the corner from his office and headed our way with a smile. He greeted all of the customers as he passed before joining us with his hands on his hips. The smile slowly fell as he took in all of our stricken faces.
“Who’s been summoned to Hell?” he teased.
“Mr. Madden is coming,” I said after a moment. Daddy and Ms. Shirley had tried to talk to Mr. Madden once after Wesley first got in trouble, but he couldn’t be bothered to answer his phone or return their voicemails. They never tried to discuss Wesley’s school antics with him again, but I could tell how little respect Daddy held for him. Family was the most important thing in the world to Daddy.
“You didn’t get in trouble again, did ya?” he asked Wes.
Wesley shook his head.
“Then what the devil is he coming for?” Daddy inquired.
As if on cue, the restaurant door burst open again and Mr. Madden walked in wearing a navy suit perfectly tailored to his body. His eyes were covered by aviator sunglasses, but even from across the dining room I could see the frown lines marring his forehead. He looked more formidable than I remembered, and now that Wesley had told me so much about his old life in Atlanta, I noted the diamond encrusted Rolex, solid gold cufflinks, and Italian leather shoes. Money was power, and Mr. Madden had more than anyone.
“Why did I know I’d find my son here rather than the home I pay you to provide for him?” Mr. Madden snapped at Ms. Shirley.
Her cheeks reddened and Daddy instantly glared. It was unusual to see Daddy frowning at someone, which must have drawn Marla’s attention from behind the counter because she immediately wiped her hands on a towel and came to join us.
“Looks like we’ve got a party goin’ on right here!” she commented in a vain attempt to diffuse the situation.
Wesley nodded once at Mr. Madden. “You found me anyway, Father.”
His dad whipped a cell phone buzzing from his pocket, not even bothering to look up as he replied, “We’re leaving in an hour, Wesley.”
My best friend leapt out from his booth seat as I scrambled to follow, grabbing his bicep to hold him back from doing something he would regret. His anger was another beast entirely and it seemed his father had forgotten or simply didn’t care.
“Like hell I am!” Wesley barked out.
I glanced at Maggie, but she looked as stunned as I felt. We both gaped at Mr. Madden in horror.
Mr. Madden didn’t react. “I’ll wait in the car. Go collect your things,” he ordered without looking up from his phone.
Daddy shared a bewildered glare with Marla and Ms. Shirley, all of them equally as surprised, though I couldn’t tell if it was from Mr. Madden’s indifference or sudden appearance. It was obvious Marla was trying to bite down on the inside of her cheek and I could see a tick in Daddy’s jaw that let me know he was fixing to say something that could get ugly.
“Now wait just a minute here, sir,” Daddy said. “The school year isn’t even over yet. What’s the rush?”
The tone in his voice must have caught Mr. Madden’s attention because he leaned back on one foot and stopped typing on his phone to gaze at Daddy. He pulled his sunglasses off and fixed Daddy with a stern expression, sizing him up.
“And you are?” he asked.
“Doug Hendricks, sir. I’ve been helping Ms. Shirley here take care of your boy for almost two years now. Wesley’s like a part of my family.”
My heart threatened to burst from the pride in Daddy’s voice. I felt Wesley relax in my hand and snuck a glance up at him. His eyes were on my daddy, trying hard to block the tears brimming along the edge.
I knew instantly from Mr. Madden’s face that this was the wrong thing to say. His eyes darkened with anger and he straightened his back to exaggerate the couple inches in height he had on Daddy.
“Well, Mr. Hendricks, your services are no longer required. Wesley is my son and it’s not your place to decide what happens to him. Shirley, if you weren’t up to the task, you only had to say so.”
Mr. Madden turned abruptly and started back towards the door, sliding his aviators onto his face in one fluid motion.
Wesley stayed rooted to the spot, my hand still holding onto his arm. His face had the same intense determination as his dad’s as he glared at him, the blood now completely drained. No one else could tell, but I knew my best friend like I knew myself, and he was terrified of leaving right now.
“For how long?” Wesley snapped.
“Excuse me?” Mr. Madden turned back, his phone once again in his hand and posed to type.
His son didn’t flinch at his father’s harsh tone like I did. Mr. Madden wasn’t used to being questioned, especially by Wes.
He held his ground, though. “For how long? I want to come back here. I am not returning to Atlanta permanently.”
Mr. Madden shook his head. “Of course not. You’ll be attending Montmeri Academy in the fall.”
“No.” Wesley’s voice rang out angrily through the restaurant, making the other diners turn and face our way. All other conversations died out and I saw one of the guys from the baseball team hold up a cell phone so he could record the exchange.
The billionaire business mogul must have noticed it, too, because he blanched before nodding at Wesley. “Then you’ll join me for the summer. I’m going on a tour through South America for Madden Markets; it’s time you start learning the ropes and preparing for your role in the business.” He didn’t give Wesley a chance to respond as he swept out the door towards the shiny black Rolls Royce Phantom idling in front of the restaurant.
Wesley exhaled loudly from holding his breath in anticipation. I could feel the tension leave his body as mine began to tremble. He was leaving…for the entire summer. The next few months suddenly looked bleak as the prospect of not spending every day with him loomed imminent. What if he couldn’t come back? What if I couldn’t ever see him again?
He turned to me with his megawatt smile, grasping both of my shoulders so I faced him. “It’s going to be okay, Celeste,” he promised, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. “We have him on camera promising that I can come back. It’s only for a few months.”
The tears started to fall despite my desire to rein them in. My upper lip quivered because no matter what Wesley said about the situation, I didn’t feel it was as likely. A teenager with a cell phone in River’s Run was hardly going to be enough to change Benedict Madden the Third’s mind.
“Wesley’s right, sugar bee,” Daddy said. He and Marla both looked somber while Ms. Shirley was on the verge of tears herself. Maggie was speechless for once, eyeing us with her mouth agape. No one really knew what to do or say.
“I’ll write and call as much as I can.” Wesley leaned down so he could hold my gaze and indicate his sincerity. My heart was breaking, but I couldn’t let that be Wes’ problem. He didn’t have a say in this anymore than I did.
I settled for hugging him fiercely, my arms locked around his neck as he pulled my waist into a vicelike grip against him. The tears kept falling as I buried my face into his neck but I managed to choke down my sobs. I would save those for later in my tower with Maggie.
“Come on, now, honey, your daddy’s waitin’,” Marla chided us. She pulled Wesley away to give him a tight hug herself. Daddy clapped him on the shoulder.
“Mind your manners,” Daddy reminded him. “Just because your daddy lets things slide doesn’t mean you can forget what we taught you here. Respect goes a long way.”
Wesley nodded and shook my daddy’s hand. “I won’t let you down, sir,” he promised. He pulled his great-aunt Shirley into a hug as she tearfully swore to keep his room just the way he liked it. With a final smirk and a wink for me, Wesley followed his father outside and into the car.
I couldn’t hold back anymore and a strangled cry escaped my throat. I sank into the booth beside Maggie as she wrapped an arm around my shoulder from behind.
“We’ll get through this summer together, Cee,” she whispered. I nodded and squeezed her arm in thanks, but inside it felt like I was dying. Wesley had become like a shadow for me and I didn’t want to face three whole months without him. If Mama’s death had taught me anything, it’s that a lot could go downhill in 90 days.