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Chapter One
“You ready to clock out, hon?”
“As soon as I finish these,” I said, stacking the clean table tents. “We’re short another two, Crystal.”
My manager rolled her eyes. “You’d think y’all would have found something better to steal than Whataburger signs.”
“Y’all?” I laughed. “I’ll have you know I’ve never stolen anything from here.”
“You know what I meant.” Crystal ripped open a new box of straws. “Your generation. Zillenials or Z or whatever.”
“Uh-huh.” I shook my head and finished my task. “You need anything else before I go?’
“Nope. Get out of here! Go home!” Crystal shooed me with a handful of straws. “Oh! Don’t forget to bring your cards next shift! I need my fortune told before I head down to Surfside with Dante.”
“I will.” I had been obsessed with tarot cards since I found my first mint conditionMiss Cleoset at a garage sale. I had turned it into a little side hustle, charging five dollars to give a reading to my classmates and coworkers. It was mostly a way to have fun, but sometimes cards had a way of being eerily correct.
After I clocked out and gathered my backpack, I slipped into the oversized red Mustangs hoodie I wore everywhere. The weather had been strangely cool and wet the last few days. Usually, it was hot and muggy by late March, but a cold front had blown through and dropped temps into the fifties. To my Houston born-and-raised behind, low fifties was freezing.
I hustled across the parking lot to my beat-up silver Altima and fought with the janky key fob to get the door to unlock. It was yet another thing I needed to find money to replace, but with Dad out of work, money was extremely tight. Janie worked crazy twelve-hour overnight shifts in the ICU at Methodist, but Dad’s gambling and drinking burned through that cash so fast. Even though Janie had kicked him out last week, it would take a long time for her to get back on her feet.
I had been doing all I could to help. When I wasn’t in school, I was working behind the counter at Whataburger. If I wasn’t slinging burgers, I was doing odd jobs around our complex of townhouses, cleaning, babysitting, doing laundry. Whatever I could do to make extra money to help my stepmom, I did.
And it was exhausting.
Trying to keep my grades up so I would graduate in the top three of my class was hard enough without the added stress of work and family. Sometimes, I watched my friends, especially my bestie Van, with envy. She tried to understand what it was like for me, but her experience growing up in a literal mansion on Kuhlman with rich as fuck parents made it difficult.
She never made me feel bad about being poor compared to her. She never made any comments about our shitty living situation or my inability to go on trips or shopping. She was always so sweet and supportive, but I could see it in her eyes sometimes. The pity. The sadness.
As if she knew I was thinking about her, Vanessa called me. I was still sitting in the parking lot, waiting for my windshield to clear, so I answered. Her gorgeous face filled the cracked screen of my iPhone, and I was shocked by the sight of her usually braided hair loose and straight. “Van! Your braids!”
“What do you think?” She grinned and flicked out the long glossy waves. “Silk press! It’s my dry run for the prom.”
“You look so pretty!”
“I know!” Van laughed and tossed her hair again. “I sent you pics earlier!”
“Did you? Sorry! I haven’t seen my phone since I clocked in,” I apologized.
“I figured.” She combed her fingers through her hair. “You can imagine how happy Mama was when I told her I wanted to get rid of the braids now that my tennis career is finished.”
“I can.” Vanessa and her mom were polar opposites. Her mother was old-school Houston money, and she wanted Van to follow in her high society footsteps. Private school. In a pew every Sunday at Antioch. Jack and Jill. The Debutante Ball. Undergrad at Spelman.
Her father was relatively new money after a successful career in the NFL. He had been the coach of the varsity football team at Memorial High for more than a decade, and he had a more laid-back approach to raising Van, her two sisters and two brothers. He rarely went against his wife, but when he did, it was the final word on the subject.
Which was why Vanessa had accepted admission to Texas A&M instead of Spelman or Howard. She wanted to be a veterinarian who specialized in horses. It really was the best school for that career path. Plus, we would be going together and studying the same thing. My goal was med school, and a degree in Biomedical Sciences was my plan.
“Sometimes, it’s like Mama actually sees me, you know? Like today? At the salon? I felt like she was really looking at me and hearing me.” Van glanced away from the screen to study her latest acrylic set. “As soon as we left the salon and I brought up looking at dorm decorating ideas, she went right back to the way she always is.”
“I’m sorry, Van.” I didn’t mention that I would give anything in the world to have an argument with my dead mother. She had been gone for eleven years now, and I still woke up every morning thinking about her. Not wanting to get dragged down into my painful memories, I asked, “What did she say about Aiden?”
Van grinned. “Well, he’s about the only decision she approves of! Daddy, on the other hand...” She made a face. “You’d think I told him I was going to prom with a serial killer the way he acted!”
“He just wants to protect you. He wants you to stay young and sweet and his little girl forever.”
“Girl, I stopped being his young, sweet, little girl two summers ago at tennis camp!”
“Van!” I scolded playfully.
