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Chapter 1
Jewel
I can’t believe this is happening. I look from my parents to Kyle’s parents and they are all wearing a frown.
At the long mahogany table, my parents sit across from us, their expressions stern and imposing. Kyle, my childhood friend and next-door neighbor, sits beside me. His presence provides some small comfort, but it can't alleviate the dread that clings to the air.
His dark hair which is always neatly combed looks tousled from last night’s party and from constantly pulling his fingers through it, just like he’s doing right now.
My dad looks like he wants my hide. This wasn’t supposed to happen. They weren’t supposed to see that picture. Hell, the picture wasn’t supposed to be taken in the first place.
“You both have no idea the gravity of what you’ve caused,” my father grits.
I try to stifle a yawn and act serious. Even though I really don’t see why they are acting all serious. It was just a kiss and it wasn’t a big deal.
Yeah, so what if some silly reporter took a picture of Kyle and I kissing at the club last night? It wasn’t even real it was a joke; Kyle and I both know it.
The elegant dining room of my family's home now feels like a gilded cage, and I so badly want to be let out.
I admit that I might have taken this a little too far, but in my defense, I had no idea that the kiss was going to be blown out of proportion this way. It was just a kiss, it’s like we had sex in public.
"Jewel, Kyle," my father, a man of few words but immense authority, begins in his characteristic no-nonsense tone, "we’veall come to a conclusion regarding this situation and we want to let you both know about it."
I'm still clad in the same short Chanel dress from last night's extravagant party, and the weight of a relentless hangover presses down on me. All I crave at this moment is to shed this dress and slip into the welcoming embrace of my bed.
With a wince, I mutter, "No offense, but could we possibly postpone this conversation to another time?" My voice is a raspy groan as I instinctively try to shield my eyes from the merciless glare of the chandelier overhead. My head feels like it wants to implode and the light isn’t helping.
My mother shoots me a glare and I look away. She looks just as pissed as my father.
I already know what this meeting is going to be about.“Jewel, you need to stop partying and act responsibly. You need to start acting your age. Jewel, you need to get a job, blah blah…”
And then my mother would go on to say,“Jewel you need to start acting more mature so you can get a good husband. No man wants a woman who parties, no man wants this, no man wants that…”
My parents act like we’re still living in the nineteenth century. Not everyone wants to get married. And as for the job part, I’ve tried getting a job but I always end up quitting because I considered it slavery to wake up early just to sit behind a desk all day. Nah that lifestyle isn’t for me.
“Jewel, are you listening?” My dad asks bringing my mind back to the meeting.
“I’m sorry, but I really don’t feel so well, maybe this discussion can be moved to another time?”
"No, it can't!” My father barks. “If the two of you hadn't been out gallivanting and causing a mess, perhaps we wouldn't be having this conversation!" My father's voice carries a searing edge ofanger, and the intensity in his eyes makes me instinctively shrink back in my seat.
My fingers tighten around the edge of the linen napkin in my lap as I try to steady my racing heart. Kyle, older than me and equally unnerved, shifts uncomfortably in his chair.
“I’m sure you must have seen this.”
My father is now brandishing a picture of Kyle and me caught in a kiss.” From his point of view, it looks like we really had something serious going on between both of us. But trust me that isn’t the case. It was just a kiss and it meant nothing.
"No, it's not what it looks like, I can explain," I stammer, my voice tinged with desperation.
“We can explain.” I turn to look at Kyle, why is he so calm? Shouldn’t he be saying something?
"It's a little too late for that, don't you think?" Kyle's father interjects, his tone surprisingly calm despite the gravity of the situation. His gaze is focused on his son but Kyle doesn’t seem to care as he’s busy staring at the wall in front of him like it’s some interesting piece of art.
"It's not what you think. We..." My words falter, caught in my throat as I struggle to find the right words to explain the situation, knowing that the truth might be as hard to accept as it is to explain.
"It doesn't matter what we think," Kyle's mother, typically soft-spoken, gently interjects. "The picture is everywhere on the internet, and it's what everyone is talking about."
“Why do we have to be so bothered about what people are saying about us? This isn’t the first-time people are talking about us. People will always talk about us anyway. So, this shouldn’t be any different.”
