Chapter 11
They all live in a gated community that's in a part of town where the founding families' grandeur and extravagant lifestyle is showcased in a subtle fashion.
It takes about fifteen minutes to get there, and for a second time, I stroll the car to a halt at the rich, green lawns, captivated.
The road leading to the community's gate is nothing short of impressive giving the feel of approaching a place elite in status with stone walls blocking anyone from peeking inside.
Atop those stone walls, trees peep over reminding me of giant sentinels guarding the entrance to some place beyond the imagination of ordinary people.
Large black iron gates stand – imposing in structure – before the car. To my left on the lawn is a stone and marble construct with an onyx plate slapped into the center. Engraved in bold, gold letters is the word 'MARCANA'.
There's a guard booth on the inside at the side of the gate and a man steps out. Tall and intimidating but he hardly looks like any security guard on the clock dressed in faded blue jeans and a plain black tee. Broad-shouldered, buff, a stone-stern face, the guard looks more like ex-forces.
The man approaches my window and knocks on the glass with one large fist of a hand.
Uneasily, I roll it down a crack. It would take nothing for this man to reach inside and pull me out. It's almost unnatural how big he is.
Now that I think of it, Sky's father is also pretty huge for a man in his mid- to late-forties.
The intimidating man clasps his hands behind his back, assuming a soldier-like stance, and glances down at me.
"Jace Conner?"
He's not the same person who practically interrogated me the first time I showed up here and he's quick to notice my hesitation to answer.
"I was told to expect your arrival. Do you know where you're heading?"
"Yes, sir," because calling anything but that feels like poking an angry bear. I show him the map on my phone. He steps away, opening the other side of the gate, allowing me to drive through. I take my time navigating the streets keeping an eye out for a yard with yellow and pink flowers.
The neighborhood screams 'elite' with quiet roads and beautiful lawns. Though the homes are humble and not extravagant in size, three things give away the community's elite social standing.
Every single lawn is green, well-maintained and have flower bushes with plants that I either don't know about or are exotic.
The homes are quaint and not nearly as large as in that other gated community minutes away – Crescent Hill.
The roofs are gorgeous and stylish. A rough guesstimate puts the cost of a single roof between a few hundred thousand to perhaps millions.
Then, there are the vehicles in every front yard that has at least one fountain and a long drive strip.
There are common cars sprinkled in between but the people who live here favor high-end cars. One driveway has a Bentley. I spy a Bugatti, a Corvette, a Camaro or two, a few Porches, a Rolls Royce, Mustang.
Driving through these streets, getting a peek inside, is a privilege. Outsiders aren't allowed. It's a norm in Jasper Falls that you have to be invited in order to set foot inside the elite communities.
We go to school with some of them, but the others go to the private school where money dictates the school's operations.
Carter's house, like most of the others, has a gate.
Some have stone half-walls running the perimeter with iron beams shooting upward.
The exterior perimeter of Carter's home is a beautiful combination of a yellow stone half-wall with black iron beams divided by stone pillars, the center of the beams bent and pounded into an intricate pattern.
Flowering vines curl around the beams running along the wall.
Turning off the ignition, I grab my bag and step out. Standing in front of the gate feels intimidating. The sheer wealth bleeding from house's exterior and stone walls is like a lifeform of its own.
I grip the iron bars, the pedestrian gate creaking open, and make the trip up the short driveway, admiring the fountains on either side of the lawn.
The fountains are carved from smooth, white and brown alabaster marble to create the sculpture of three wolves perched like stone guardians.
In the driveway, I recognize Carter's recently acquired Chevy Silverado, a Benz, and a SUV. Those must belong to his parents.
The driveway is lined with flowering hedges of yellow Azaleas, and the lawn between the hedge and wall is all green save the two trees of pink Azaleas on either side of the driveway.
I know little about horticulture, only what I've gathered over the years from Mom's personal gardening hobby.
A sudden flutter of reluctance goes through me at the extravagance of this one house, emphasizing how out of my element I am. Perhaps I should've gone to Katy's party instead. Or stayed home.
Katy's supposedly empty threat rings in the recesses of my mind.
...if you go, you can't hang out with us anymore...
I shake my head.
No. I'm not doing this.
One weekend isn't going to hurt anyone. It's not as if I'm ditching the popularity scene for these guys. I'll only hang out with them if they want me to. That's all there is to it.
Slinging the gym bag across my shoulders, I exhale deeply to calm my nerves but the fatal mistake of checking my phone crumbles that miniscule confidence like a thousand-year-old cottage collapsing into dust.
There are messages from Katy, Brent, and Blake. One from Sasha.
Blake is at the bottom of the list of people I give a flying thought to, so I check his message first. It reads, 'Guess you aren't showing. Try not to turn into one of them.'
I have no idea what that means. I'm tempted to respond and ask him what their problem is because apparently, only Blake is now privy to whatever the hell is going on with Brent.
I read Katy's next. 'Guess you've chosen. You won't get away with this.'
Brent is third and his message hurt the most because despite the growing chasms on our friendship, I still care about that jerk.
'You really don't care about your reputation, do you? The only reason you're popular is because we've allowed it. If you turn out like them, I'll make your life hell.'
So much for friendship, dickhead.
My mood severely plummeting, I read Sasha's message next hoping she would improve it.
'Fuck those asshats! Remember to enjoy your weekend and don't worry about those idiots. We'll deal with them on Monday. Send me pics and videos. I have to see what the Marcana Community is like! Love you!'
Her message makes me laugh. It's accompanied by various emojis. An angry face. A fist, karate emoji, a flexing arm. There are surprise faces, star-eyed faces, and loads of heart emojis.
It's so like the Sasha Vernon I know and love. She never fails to uplift my mood.
I hope the others can look past this. They're reading into it too much and making a big deal out of nothing.
Shoving the negativity on the backburner, I tuck the phone away and approach the spacious front porch just as the door swings open.
Several voices follow. I recognize Carter's first – boisterous and lively. And then Asher's spitfire reply.
They're arguing about something again.
"Your taste in movies suck!" Asher critiques. Carter cackles and the sound of Sky's laughter accompanies his, except I think Sky is laughing in agreement with Asher.
"I'm not a fan of Sci-Fi shit," Carter retorts.
"Because you only watch shit Sci-Fi movies!" Asher returns, his face scrunched in playful annoyance. "I'm telling you! Thatis one of the best movies in that lineup I've seen in a while. We have to watch it!"
"No," Carter replies. Asher stares in bewilderment, but it's momentary.
Asher's returning grin is wicked, a picture of perfect evil, hands clasped together like an old-time movie villain. He touches his fingertips to the underside of his chin.
"Fine. I'm not playing your Jenga game and since I'm sponsoring food, I'm deliberately ordering pineapples. Extra pineapples. I know you love pineapples on your pizza,"
Sky bursts out laughing. Carter looks absolutely horrified. He doesn't blink or breathe.
"You're kidding." It's a rasp of dread.
Asher's smirk is so sinister that it sends a shiver down my spine. "Try me, gardening tool."
Sky pats his distressed friend on the shoulder. Carter looks like he'll be sick.
Asher is first to notice me standing there, awkwardly twisting the strap of my gym bag.
"Hey, Jace!" Asher chirps, his earlier demeanor wiped in favor of an amiable smile. He greets me with an enthusiastic wave.
"You showed up!" Carter hurries down the steps to pull me into a quick hug. I tend to forget that he's an affectionate person on the days he isn't mean to people. He inspects the gym back. "You brought everything you need?"
When I give a slight nod, he glances at Sky, eyes twinkling with mischief. Uncomfortably, reluctantly, I look at said person who is staring me down like I'm the nuisance cockroach invading the lustrous lair of a majestic beast.
He scoffs and turns his head.
Thud!
"Ow!" Sky yelps, hopping away and shaking his foot. "Ash, what the fuck?"
Carter and Laken snicker. Dale nods his approval, bumping fists with Asher.
"Be nice, you condescending fuck-nut." Asher points a reprimanding finger before slapping Sky's shoulder with a sharp thwack, sending him a wink. "Walk it off, big boy."
Sky's muttered obscenities follow Asher down the steps, the latter unbothered. I clear my throat taking notice of the fact that they all carry sleepover bags.
"Uhm...where are you guys going?"
"My parents kicked us out," Carter explains. "Whenever they come over," he says, jabbing a thumb at the others behind him, "my brother doesn't eat and he refuses to go to sleep." He shrugs.
"Oh." Reluctantly, I steal a glance at Sky to find him already looking at me with a halfway vexed pinch of his eyebrows. He looks like he'll rather eat nails than stick around me.
There's no blame toward him. What I said was uncalled for but that's why I came in the first place. I don't want there to be trouble between us. I value his opinions, and I care about what he thinks.
"Where are we going?"
"You'll see." Asher grins as they start down the driveway and out the gate. We turn right on the pavement and start down the street.
Asher and Carter occupy the front of the group resuming their bickering.
Dale and Laken lag behind, walking hand-in-hand chatting between themselves caught inside their own little bubble. Those two make a cute couple. It's endearing the way Dale caters to Laken's every whim and need. He has Dale wrapped tight around his little finger.
That leaves me with Sky. He's rigid next to me, hands stuffed into the pockets of his sweater.
He looks everywhere but at me. His shoulders are tense and a muscle ticks in his jaw.
I can tell the last place he wants to be is at my side, dragging his feet while the group strolls along the pavement and yet, he neither walks faster nor says a word.
"You don't have to walk with me if you don't want to," I point out, earning an irritated side-eye as if I violated some unspoken rule by speaking to him..
"Do you know where you're going?" he fires in agitation. His tone is rough, and he doesn't hide his displeasure. I say nothing to his gruff question. "Didn't think so. Shut up and walk."
"You don't need to be rude. Besides, I can always follow. We're heading in the same direction, aren't we?" My rhetorical question is met with a burning glare that makes me feel small and inferior. Definitely a cockroach in front of his imposing frame.
He reminds me of feral beast – proud and powerful, refined and regal, yet somehow wild and untamable.
I should not be sassing him.
"If I'm rude, it's because you were to me, first. Why the hell are you here? I told you not to ruin my weekend. What? Your pretty girlfriend and popular life isn't good enough, so you want to spread your misery?"
I deserve that.
"Sasha's family is taking a trip out of county and Ashton's dad returned from overseas. I don't want to be around a whole bunch of people I barely know."
Sky snorts derisively. "And you think you know us?"
I pick at my palm. "No." I turn to look at him. "But I like being around you, and you make feel comfortable."
He falls silent at that, and no more words are exchanged.
The only sounds are of Carter and Asher's bickering, the occasional whisper from the couple behind us, and the night creatures coming out to play as the sun steadily disappears beneath the horizon casting the surrounding trees and houses in silhouettes.
We turn down another street, continue walking, but instead of going around the corner, Carter and Asher cross the street, heading into the woods.
"Don't fall back, Jace!" Carter calls over his shoulder. "You might get lost."
"Why are we going there?"
"Afraid of the woods?"
My mouth clamps shut and my heartbeat skyrockets.
Sky! What the fuck!
He moves in closer, mere inches away and his lips are a fingertip's distance from my ear. His breath tickles the sensitive skin. The low rumble of his voice stirs something foreign – something frightening.
"No." I hate how small my voice sounds. I'm ashamed and confused by my body's reaction to his proximity.
Sky's features even out, softening to a casual smile. "Carter has a cottage nearby. It's a bit secluded from the other homes."
"Isn't that dangerous?"
"I thought you weren't afraid." Sky's taunt earns him a dry stare that makes him laugh. It kills the tension between us improving the once glum atmosphere, bolstering my confidence encouraging me to keep the flow of the conversation.
Maybe he hasn't forgiven me, but as long as I can approach him without being told to go fuck off and die, we can fix this.
"I'm not. I'm just concerned."
"This is private property, so we're safe. If you want, you can hold my hand." His teasing is unabashed as he holds out a hand.
My cheeks flame hot.
He's teasing me, I know that. It's something I learned about him since we started talking. He enjoys teasing me but sometimes, I can't tell if it's a joke or he's being serious.
Knocking his hand away, I speed-walk to catch up with Carter and Asher. I hear his laughter rising over the quiet of the evening.
The rest of the walk to the cottage continues much like how it started except Sky walks a few steps behind. He hovers as a shadow would.
When we arrive at our destination, I'm left in awe. The structure looks old but there are clear signs that a lot of care is put into maintaining it. A beautiful stone building stands before me in all its grandeur because this isn't a cottage.
It's a whole rich-person house.
A three-foot stone foundation supports its structure, stairs going up the left side, stone columns holding up the top floor. There's no banister, adding to the olden feeling that this structure has seen a generation or two.
Carter and Asher's bickering lead us up the stairs.
"You know what? You're pissing me off!" Asher whips out his phone and furiously taps away on it.
"What're you doing, Ash?" Sky drawls.
"Texting my parents." Asher sends Carter a sinister smirk and he's quick to figure out the meaning behind the grin of nightmares.
"No pineapples!"
"Yes pineapples!" Asher clucks like a classical cartoon villain. Carter, fussing and muttering, storms up the steps and pushes Asher out of the way. He unlocks it, the rest of us filtering in behind him. The lights come on as I step through and the interior has my jaw dropping.
Fancy but simple on the outside, but a dream on the inside with white and beige carpets, couches, and silk black drapery.
The steps leading to the floor above are covered in a chocolate brown mat, cream-colored runners trimmed with gold patterns.
The floor above has six doors, the corridor barricaded behind varnished steel banisters.
The walls are made from stone. A seventy-inch flat screen is mounted the wall above shelves on the ground floor holding a stereo system and a few books. On either side of the setup are two doorless archways that lead into a kitchen from what I can see.
I could see myself living in a house like this. Secluded. Surrounded by quiet woodland but not too far away to risk my safety in times of emergency. The inside of the cottage boasts of wealth but has a cozy appeal.
"There are five bedrooms and one bath upstairs. The kitchen is over there," Sky informs.
My immediate reaction is to freeze up. He's close to my ear. The heat from his body seeps through the layers of my clothing and I force myself to ignore it, to push down that foreign feeling that scares the shit out of me.
At this point, I'm beginning to think it's his new way of teasing me.
Feigning interest in the cottage's layout, I step away to distract myself from a frightening realization: Sky Daniels affects me.
I push it down to some far away corner.
Sky is someone I consider a good friend.
He makes me comfortable though there's no denying his words from yesterday cut me deep, caused me to go home and reflect on the decisions I made, the peer pressure I allowed to dictate my actions – the word garbage I spewed – in the name of keeping up appearances.
I shouldn't have stooped to that level because Sky didn't deserve that.
It's why I prefer hanging out with Sasha and Ashton. It's why I'm glad to be here.
I don't like the person I have to be in order to avoid falling to the bottom of the social pyramid getting looked down on because my perspective differs from the shallow values of the popular circle.
I want to break the mold.
"What should we do first? Movie or a game?" Asher tosses his bag in one corner and plops onto the couch. While they make up their minds, Sky wordlessly takes my bag and sets it with the others.
"You said you brought UNO?" Laken asks.
Asher jumps to it, fishing a red card box out of the front pockets of his bag.
"Are you up for a game, Jace?" he asks, wriggling the box as he pops a squat on the floor and starts shuffling the deck.
The others move in. "You should know that Sky's like the UNO Master.
It's either he wins or nothing. Up for a challenge? "
"UNO Master?" I echo. Sky has a proud smirk, his shoulders squared. He reminds me of an animal beaming with pride, showing his dominance. Maybe a lion but without the golden-brown mane.
"Take it easy, Conner." Blue eyes twinkle with a challenge and mischief. "I wouldn't want you to accidentally wound your pride."
"Is that so?" I return. "You might end up eating your words.
If I were you, I wouldn't talk so fast because I don't back down from a challenge.
UNO Master? Prove it." The intention is to goad him and his amusement doesn't waver.
He accepts my challenge with a teasing kind of smile at the corners of his mouth.
"Ash. Deal us."
I sit down adjacent to him, waiting for everyone to be dealt their hand. When we all have seven cards before us, Asher takes out a notepad and pencil from his bag.
"We turn it into a game," he explains, flipping to a blank sheet to draw five vertical lines, and a horizontal one across the top. He pencils in the letters: 'S', 'C', 'D', 'L', 'A', and 'J'.
"We play ten rounds in a game and whoever wins the most rounds, is declared the winner. That's why we keep score," Asher supplies. He smirks then. "So, do us a favor." He closes his eyes and jabs a thumb in the Sky's direction. "Humble the egotistical jerk."
"This is going to be fun," Carter sings, arranging his cards.
The game starts and after more than an hour, we reach the thirtieth round.
More time passes and we're in the fourth game, in the fortieth round. The majority of games last less than three minutes. Most of the others have grown bored or copped out in the last round.
Now, it's down to me and Sky.
My opponent hardly looks away. He's trying to read me, as if though by doing so, I would magically spill all of my secrets. The addition of a formidable player has thrown Sky Daniels off his game when I obliterated their UNO master in the first round.
Sky deals the cards for the final round flipping the top card to reveal a yellow '2'.
"Jace," Asher whispers softly, "if you win this round, you'll beat his record for the month. You'll be named the new UNO Master."
I like the sound of that.
We're tied at the moment, having won an equal number of rounds since the start of the game.
After winning against him in that first round, he retaliated and won the second round. It' been a constant battle between the two of us and the others copped out to watch the destruction unfold.
"I'm not going to let you win," Sky declares. I bite back a smile, looking over the cards in my arsenal, glancing the yellow '2' before meeting his gaze over the top of my hand.
"We'll see."
He gestures for me to play. I set down a green '2', changing the current color. He smirks, drops a green '+2'.
Oof! Mistake on his part. This is going to be an easy win.
Without a single facial muscle betraying me, I set down the first of many cards leading him deeper into my little trap. A yellow '+2' followed by two of the same but in red and blue.
Sky stiffens, and without anything in his hand to deflect the eight cards he would have to pick up, he goes to the deck to fish up eight. It's my turn to play again. With the color still blue, I drop everything. A blue skip, followed by a blue '6'.
"Uno," I say, and drop the last card – '+4'. "I win!"
Sky's jaw hangs open, eyes about to pop out of their sockets. He's frozen in disbelief.
"How? I don't understand!" Sky exclaims.
"I told you. Talk too quickly and you might eat your words."
"I demand a rematch!" he blurts over the celebratory whoops of his friends. He ignores them, locking an intense stare onto me. The blue of his eyes seem sharper. Somehow brighter.
He jabs his finger at the table. "You cheated. I refuse to yield my title."
I'm smug about the victory. "I did no such thing. It's a fair win."
"Backing down? I thought you never did."
I open my mouth to respond but my hunger comes out instead, tummy rumbling loud and angry catching the others' collective attention. The simultaneous flick of five pairs of eyeballs make me flush, and Sky is first to break the drop in conversation. He stands and holds out a hand.
"We should go eat," he says, pulling me to my feet.
The food arrived during the second game.
Asher's parents checked on us when they dropped off the food.
I've seen his parents before, but it's the first time I'd seen them up close.
Asher looks more like his mother. She's a beautiful woman who possesses an unmistakable grace about her, but there's definitely a shred of his dad somewhere in him.
His dad looks like the kind of person you should not mess with.
They didn't stay long, leaving after reminding us not to stay up too late.
Inside the kitchen, rustling bags, popping cans, and clanking plates fill the silence brought on by a lack of conversation. It's not awkward at all as they move around, popping open boxes of food and shoveling portions onto plates.
At the other end of the island counter, Carter glares distastefully at an opened pizza box.
"Ash, why would you do this?" His voice is full of profound heartbreak. Tears gather in his eyes prompting me forward to investigate the pizza box. I've never seen Carter cry. He's too tough for it.
Peering over the open box, I can't help the horror that snakes its way up my spine. "Whoa."
It's covered in pineapple cubes. I can't even see the cheese or the other toppings.
Asher raises an eyebrow. "But you love pineapples."
"What if I was allergic to pineapples?" Carter cries.
"You don't have allergies. There are starving people in the world! Eat, damn it!"
Carter whimpers, sounding exactly like a kicked and whimpering puppy.
We head back to the living room with our food and drinks in hand. Carter returns in defeat with two slices of the abominable pizza. He looks like he's going to pass out. Slowly, he makes his way through the first slice, gagging so often I'm shocked he doesn't throw up.
Laken and I aren't as amused as the others, sharing a mutual worry for Carter's wellbeing with each bite he takes. When he gags again, face turning red, and a stray tear trickles down his cheek, Laken snatches the pizza away, offering up a portion of his own food.
Carter downs his entire glass of Coca-Cola in one go just as Asher disappears into the kitchen. He comes back following the rustle of a plastic bag and the clink of utensils carrying a white box and a fork.
"Luckily for you, I'm not that cruel." He sets it down in front of Carter who is a heartbeat away from bursting into tears of relief.
"This was a practical joke?"
"I just needed you to eat one slice."
Carter doesn't have time for a rebuttal.
He pops the box open, takes a deep inhale of the aroma and digs in, forgetting all table manners.
Grease and sauce smear around his mouth but he shovels another forkful of noodles before he swallows the last mouthful.
He strips an entire drumstick in two bites followed by strips of lettuce, grated carrots, and purple cabbage.
"Are you trying to fucking choke?" Sky reprimands. "Fucking chew!"
Carter's response is to moan, roll his eyes, and continue inhaling his food.
"You could have scraped the pineapples off," I suggest.
"Maybe," Asher retorts. "But I requested that they put extra, extra pineapples. The dough's infused with pineapple juice." Asher is thrilled by the success of his devious plan. He makes sure to tease Carter about it.
It's difficult to ignore the stark difference between Sky's friends and mine.
Had I gone to Katy's party, I would be bored off my ass even with people constantly striking up conversation, girls flirting and trying to get my number, the lame-ass party typical games where you get drunker, people asking stupid, invasive, inappropriate questions.
But as much fun as this evening's turning out to be, reality is quite different. Our friendships would not last.
I glance to Sky. He's too busy talking with Laken to notice I'm staring. I can't help but wonder.
How would he react if he knew the truth? He's the type to deeply care for those closest to him. Would he care if he found out? Though we're moving away our less-than-friendly past, it doesn't mean he values my friendship the way I value his.
I tap the fork against the plate.
It's not like he'll find out, anyway. I have no intention of telling him. Or anyone else.
It's better this way. My burden, and no one else's.