more slowly than me.”
Grace had said, “You’re acting like an idiot and those people you’re hanging out with are a bunch of stupid snobs.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand the social advantages of hanging out with the right people,” Charlotte had said, with a disgusted look on her face. “Considering how you’ve been brought up I doubt you’ll ever need to know.”
Charlotte had blushed then, as if even she knew how awful she was being. That was the last time Grace talked to Charlotte until today. Tommy had still been trying, and it was heartbreaking to watch him try to draw her attention only to be dismissed with an eye roll and a disparaging comment shared with her new friends. Now that Charlotte had that hulking dumbass for a boyfriend, Grace feared Tommy might get physically hurt.
“He’s not worthy of her,” Tommy said. “I’m not saying I am, but for sure he’s not.”
Even now he still had Charlotte up on a pedestal. Grace knew he would forgive any bad behavior on Charlotte’s part if she would just throw him a crust of bread, like he was a stray dog.
“What does she see in him?” he asked Grace
“He’s popular,” Grace said. “I think that’s all that matters to her now.”
“I talked to her mom about it,” Tommy said.
Grace cringed. Charlotte’s mother Ava was pretty and gracious, but her kindness seemed very calculated to Grace, as if it was a role she was playing, and not who she really was. Grace was small and quiet so people often forgot she was in the room; she had seen some things Ava would not want anyone to know about. Ava was still courteous to Grace when she ran into her, but she never said, “Where have you been?” or “When are you coming to dinner?” Charlotte’s mother made it obvious she knew what was up and approved.
Grace had seen Charlotte and her new friends hanging out behind the B&B, lounging around the picnic table and throwing pine cones at the boys who drove down the alley to flirt with them. They were always whispering, shrieking, or texting, their phones permanently attached to their hands.
They talked in text language, and made fun of Grace for things only Charlotte could have told them about her. It hurt, but Grace had come to the conclusion that if you don’t want to be hurt you just shouldn’t care so much.
“Have you heard from your mom?” Grace said.
“She’s getting out pretty soon,” he said. “She’s worried about what people will think. You can see why.”
“What do you think?”
“It’ll be weird,” he said. “She’s been gone for three years; things have changed a lot.”
“Do you think she and Ed will get back together?”
“I wish they would,” Tommy said. “But neither of them thinks so. Mom says, ‘That’s water under the bridge,’ and Ed says, ‘I blew my chance when I had it,’ so probably not.”
“Will you live with Ed or her?”
“I have to live with Ed since he’s my legal guardian,” Tommy said. “Since mom’s not actually related to me she doesn’t have any rights. She rescued me from those people and raised me from a baby, so she’s the only mom I’ve ever known. My real grandma didn’t see it as rescuing so much as kidnapping and transporting me across state lines. It didn’t help that mom stole her daughter’s identity.”
Tommy’s biological parents were killed in drug-related violence in Florida when he was still an infant. When his biological grandmother found him and discovered his mother was not the Miranda Wilson she had been searching for, she called the FBI. Melissa Wright, which was the real name of the person he considered his mother, was currently serving her sentence at a federal correction facility for women in Florida, where the crime took place. Tommy’s grandmother was dying of cancer when she found him; before she died she let him pick Ed as his guardian, and had left him a small trust fund to use for his college education.
“All that really
Grace had said, “You’re acting like an idiot and those people you’re hanging out with are a bunch of stupid snobs.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand the social advantages of hanging out with the right people,” Charlotte had said, with a disgusted look on her face. “Considering how you’ve been brought up I doubt you’ll ever need to know.”
Charlotte had blushed then, as if even she knew how awful she was being. That was the last time Grace talked to Charlotte until today. Tommy had still been trying, and it was heartbreaking to watch him try to draw her attention only to be dismissed with an eye roll and a disparaging comment shared with her new friends. Now that Charlotte had that hulking dumbass for a boyfriend, Grace feared Tommy might get physically hurt.
“He’s not worthy of her,” Tommy said. “I’m not saying I am, but for sure he’s not.”
Even now he still had Charlotte up on a pedestal. Grace knew he would forgive any bad behavior on Charlotte’s part if she would just throw him a crust of bread, like he was a stray dog.
“What does she see in him?” he asked Grace
“He’s popular,” Grace said. “I think that’s all that matters to her now.”
“I talked to her mom about it,” Tommy said.
Grace cringed. Charlotte’s mother Ava was pretty and gracious, but her kindness seemed very calculated to Grace, as if it was a role she was playing, and not who she really was. Grace was small and quiet so people often forgot she was in the room; she had seen some things Ava would not want anyone to know about. Ava was still courteous to Grace when she ran into her, but she never said, “Where have you been?” or “When are you coming to dinner?” Charlotte’s mother made it obvious she knew what was up and approved.
Grace had seen Charlotte and her new friends hanging out behind the B&B, lounging around the picnic table and throwing pine cones at the boys who drove down the alley to flirt with them. They were always whispering, shrieking, or texting, their phones permanently attached to their hands.
They talked in text language, and made fun of Grace for things only Charlotte could have told them about her. It hurt, but Grace had come to the conclusion that if you don’t want to be hurt you just shouldn’t care so much.
“Have you heard from your mom?” Grace said.
“She’s getting out pretty soon,” he said. “She’s worried about what people will think. You can see why.”
“What do you think?”
“It’ll be weird,” he said. “She’s been gone for three years; things have changed a lot.”
“Do you think she and Ed will get back together?”
“I wish they would,” Tommy said. “But neither of them thinks so. Mom says, ‘That’s water under the bridge,’ and Ed says, ‘I blew my chance when I had it,’ so probably not.”
“Will you live with Ed or her?”
“I have to live with Ed since he’s my legal guardian,” Tommy said. “Since mom’s not actually related to me she doesn’t have any rights. She rescued me from those people and raised me from a baby, so she’s the only mom I’ve ever known. My real grandma didn’t see it as rescuing so much as kidnapping and transporting me across state lines. It didn’t help that mom stole her daughter’s identity.”
Tommy’s biological parents were killed in drug-related violence in Florida when he was still an infant. When his biological grandmother found him and discovered his mother was not the Miranda Wilson she had been searching for, she called the FBI. Melissa Wright, which was the real name of the person he considered his mother, was currently serving her sentence at a federal correction facility for women in Florida, where the crime took place. Tommy’s grandmother was dying of cancer when she found him; before she died she let him pick Ed as his guardian, and had left him a small trust fund to use for his college education.
“All that really
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