A Love Hate Thing Page 2

  This was my summer, and no one was getting in the way of that.

  3 | Trice

  Even the birds sounded different here.

  Monday morning, I found myself up, listening to them chirp merrily like they had no problem in the world. This wasn’t Lindenwood. Where I was from, the street would be buzzing with chatter, the nearby construction or destruction of properties, or the perpetual sound of a siren going by.

  The transfer to Pacific Hills had been a success, so not long into our introductions, Misty had left me to Parker and Maxine, or Max, as she preferred. Their family was an intimate four with their daughter, Nandy, and their son, Jordy. The young Asian boy hadn’t been in the picture when I’d known the Smiths previously. The kid seemed nice, welcoming—unlike her.

  Nandy.

  It was hard to believe that once upon a time, we’d been friends. Clearly, we were no longer seven years old.

  I’d been up when Parker went into work for the day, but I hadn’t left my room except to go to the bathroom to freshen up. Not that staying in my room was a punishment; it was by far the nicest place I’d ever slept. My bedroom back home had been plain and basic. This room was alive with personality with its colorful walls. One, a navy blue, had a large painting hung on it. The painting captured an ocean wave, and the tiny splash of gold marbled within the image of teal, blue and white water was really nice. Another wall was a lighter blue and housed a window seat with big pillows set up for decoration: two gold, another fuzzy and light blue. The other two walls were seafoam green and royal blue.

  My bed was queen-size and matched the color scheme with its navy blue comforter and light blue sheets and pillows.

  As I stood in the center of the room, taking in all the furniture and fixtures, I appreciated that it was all very nice.

  Soft knocking pulled me from my thoughts. It was half past eleven, and I wasn’t too surprised someone was already checking in on me.

  “Yeah?” I said as I went and pulled open my door.

  Max was standing on the other side, smiling bright and chipper. There was a warmth about her that let me know she wasn’t just taking me in to be nice; she genuinely wanted to, though I was still suspicious about why.

  “Just seeing how you’re settling in,” she said, peeking her head in to look around. “How are you liking it?”

  I took a step back, allowing her to enter my room—or her room, because it was her house. I was still wrapping my head around the idea of this being my new home and town.

  “It’s going to take a lot of getting used to,” I told her.

  Max wrapped her arms around herself, staring my way with affection. She meant well, but still I was uncomfortable.

  Thankfully, Nandy breezed by in the hall, gaining her attention.

  “Nandy,” Max called out. “Come here.”

  With a heavy sigh, Nandy soon appeared in the doorway.

  Max showed a hand to her daughter. “Nandy actually designed this room all by herself, with only a week’s notice. It used to be painted all white with just a bed.”

  Nandy stood awkwardly with the spotlight on her. “Mom.”

  “Don’t be shy. You did a wonderful job.”

  She had, especially because she’d started from scratch with the entire room in white. The Smith house was large, having five bedrooms total. It said something that they hadn’t just stuck me in a spare room but had gone out of their way to decorate one to make it feel like home.

  No matter how hard they tried, though, this would never be home.

  Nandy offered a tight-lipped smile as she inched farther into the room. “They say blue is a soothing color, and I didn’t know what shade to pick so I went with a few.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear, refusing to look at me too long. “Blue is cool, cozy, comforting, and I wanted this room to scream ‘welcome,’ you know? So, I hope you like it and you’re not a Blood or whatever.”

  Max’s mouth fell agape as she sucked in a gasp. “Nandy!”

  I managed to stifle a laugh. This girl had spunk.

  Nandy made a face, crossing her arms. “I’m joking, relax.”

  “It was cute,” I said in her defense. “You did a nice job, thanks.”

  Nandy barely acknowledged my comment as her gaze drifted to the floor.

  “Why don’t you two spend the day becoming reacquainted?” Max suggested.

  Nandy frowned. “I’ve got plans with Chad. Everybody’s going to this thing.”

  Max sighed. “Honestly, are Chad and his friends all you care about?”

  “Yes, Mom, my boyfriend is important to me,” Nandy said.

  “Alyssa.”

  It was déjà vu. When we were younger, whenever Nandy would push Max’s buttons, she’d be quick to scold Nandy with the use of her middle name. It was intriguing to see that not much had changed in that department.

  I studied Nandy. She wore a small T-shirt that barely covered her svelte stomach, and a pair of shorts that accentuated how tall she was and the length of her legs.

  Briefly, I remembered a moment when we were young, of Nandy taking a blanket and throwing it over our heads. To hide. To be safe. To be cozy, warm, and enveloped.

  Noticing my stare, Nandy stepped back toward the hall. “We’ve got all summer, and I don’t want to keep Chad waiting.”

  Max rolled her eyes. “Fine. I’m off for the day, what do you think about pasta for dinner?”

  Nandy hugged her middle. “No thanks, I’m only eating fruit and vegetables until cotillion. I want to look good in my dress.” A ringtone sounded from Nandy’s hand, where she was clutching her cell phone. By the lovey-dovey lyrics and melody, I assumed it was her boyfriend. “Gotta go, I’ll be back later.”

  She was out of the room and down the hall before Max could protest.

  Max turned back to me with a helpless shrug. “Don’t have kids.”

  I sincerely wasn’t planning on it. “Noted.”

  Max angled her head, appearing thoughtful. “What’s your middle name?”

  “Jeremy,” I let her know. Curious, I went on to ask, “What’s cotillion?”

  Max leaned against the wall and rolled her eyes heavenward. “An annual event where the young ladies of this town make their formal debut into Pacific Hills society. Being that Nandy is practically the star, it’s been a royal pain in the making.”

  “Star?”

  Max seemed almost proud. “Nandy’s popular around here. The committee practically begged her to help out. So mark your calendar. Friday, July fifteenth, is Nandy’s big day.”

  I wasn’t so sure I was interested. “Can I sit it out?”

  Max chuckled. “’Fraid not, we’ve been down that road with Jordy. It’s important to this family. I mean, sure, the whole thing is really about a bunch of spoiled divas getting a spotlight for the day, but Nandy and her friends actually deserve it.”

  “Spoiled divas?”

  “The hardest many of these kids have ever worked is maybe a week’s worth of chores to get a shiny new car or phone. Nandy and her friends are like the poster children around here for extracurricular activities.”

  I couldn’t relate. I hadn’t grown up poor, but I definitely hadn’t grown up like this, either. My life before was simple middle class; this was the lap of luxury. “Priorities, right?”

  Max chuckled. “We try to instill strong values in our kids, but we do our share of spoiling.”

  “You from here?” I wanted to know.

  “Born and raised right here,” Max said. “My parents moved to Atlanta a while ago. They visit every now and then, so look forward to getting a goody bag. Parker’s parents are in Jersey, and we hear from them every now and then, too. Sometimes I forget there’s a whole world out there, but at the same time, this is home, and I can’t imagine living somewhere else, no matter how neurotic and myopic th
ese people can be.”

  “And Jordy?”

  She softened at the mention of her youngest. “I don’t like to think of him as adopted. He’s my baby. I wiped his nose, cleaned his bottom, and potty trained him. He’s as natural to me as Nandy.”

  Her heart was big. She was more selfless than anyone I’d ever known.

  Max spoke fondly of Pacific Hills despite the drawbacks of entitled brats and showy events. Her life and her family were simple.

  Where did I fit in?

  “Why’d you say yes?” I asked.

  Max blinked. “What do you mean?”

  My grandfather, Pops, was dead, and for some reason, instead of leaving me to the system, he’d reached out to the Smiths, a family he’d worked for several years ago before he got too sick and had to retire. When the cancer was taking the last of Pops, he’d surprised me with the idea of living with them.

  At the time, I’d said no, but Pops hadn’t listened, and here we were.

  The Smiths had agreed to become my legal guardians in the event of Pops’s passing, and once they’d agreed, he’d taken his cue and peacefully left this earth.

  I’d met these people when I was five years old and Pops was the neighborhood landscaper. From the time I was five until I was seven, I’d played with Nandy whenever Pops had brought me along on his jobs.

  That was ten years ago.

  “Why did you agree to take me in? You don’t know me,” I said.

  Max relaxed. “Well, it’s hard to turn down a dying man. Phillip was a good man, and from what I remember, you were a sweet little boy. When I heard the details of what happened to you, my heart broke, and Parker’s, too. You watched three people who were dear to you die. I believe this is what’s best for you.”

  “Two,” I corrected.

  “Excuse me?”

  “I watched two people who were dear to me die.”

  Realization hit Max and she quickly recovered. “Oh, Trice, I’m sorry. You’re right, two people. I said yes because I’m human and I care. And for the record, Parker and I thought long and hard about what to say to the kids, and we decided your story is yours—we haven’t told them what happened to you. This all came together so fast, and my main concern was making you feel comfortable and welcome and not like a lab rat being fussed over.”

  I could tell she meant well. She had this honest air about her.

  Trouble was, I wasn’t used to experiencing good things. Life had a way of taking from me, and I wasn’t about to get attached, no matter how sincere and genuine Max came off.

  There was no good left in the world, and even if there had been, one thing was certain—I didn’t deserve it.

  4 | Nandy

  I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough. Even though that meant walking straight into the lion’s den as I drove across town to Oliver Stein’s beach house.

  Chad had sent me a text prompting me to link up as everyone was hanging out at Oliver’s family’s vacation property to kick-start summer. I wasn’t fond of Oliver, who was entirely too obnoxious, but he was one of Chad’s best friends, so I buried my discomfort as I got ready to show my face.

  In this town, appearances were everything.

  Pacific Hills was an exclusive community, where greatness was the only acceptable thing. In school we were competitive, gearing up for affluent and prominent futures. There was no way a kid from Lindenwood would fit in. What were my parents thinking?

  By the time I pulled up to the beach house, it was eight cars deep with vehicles in the driveway. I managed to park my little BMW down the block—all the better for making a clean getaway.

  Loud rap music filtered through the air as I made my way to the front door. With my hand on the knob, I debated going home and dealing with Tyson instead. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d ditched one of Oliver’s parties.

  I’d already stopped by the Apple store after leaving home and gotten my phone screen fixed; I couldn’t stall any longer. Chad had been all over my case the night before about why I was so antsy. I hadn’t wanted to talk about it—I still didn’t want to talk about it, but I knew eventually I’d have to.

  Knowing that Chad would freak out and blow up my cell if I ditched him, I took a deep breath and slipped inside.

  It was nearly one in the afternoon, but the party was well underway. Mimosas were everywhere, and the smoky stench of weed filled the air.

  “Aw yeah, Nandy’s in the house!” Dickie Carter shouted, putting his hands by his mouth to project his voice. His dark hair was a mess and his button-down was hanging loosely on his body as he stood in the kitchen mixing drinks in his swimming trunks and flip-flops.

  Dickie was obviously high, on what I wasn’t sure. I hated being around him when he was on something.

  Some kids weren’t shy about using coke or pills, or smoking up. That was not me, though. No amount of peer pressure could get me to use.

  I found Chad in the living room, crowded by some of his close friends and their girlfriends.

  For just a moment, as I often did, I paused and took in my boyfriend.

  Chad Bradley.

  It was a total heartthrob name, and I loved the sound of it. It was the type of name associated with a really cute guy who was a young star either in acting or singing, one whose gorgeous face was plastered all over posters and pinups ripped from teen magazine pages.

  And Chad was gorgeous—super tall, swoon-worthy ocean-blue eyes, flawless coppery-auburn hair, and the perfect athletic build from all his years on the lacrosse team.

  Chad was always the man of the hour. He was a big deal for Pacific Hills; his dad was a major businessman and a big donor for events and new projects, and his mom was someone all the women wanted to rub elbows with. If Mrs. Bradley didn’t like you, then you were a nobody, and no one wanted to be a nobody, not in this town. In a way, Mr. and Mrs. Bradley were the gatekeepers of Pacific Hills—at least, Mrs. Bradley seemed that way.

  I took a deep breath and greeted Chad, going and wrapping my arms around him. “Hey!”

  “Aww, there she is!” Chad said enthusiastically. He faced a friend and slapped his chest. “Get Nan a drink, will ya?”

  “It’s a little early,” I spoke up.

  Chad tossed me a goofy grin. “It’s never too early.”

  Shouting drew our attention to the kitchen, where Dickie was attempting to do shots off some girl as she lay across the counter.

  I wrinkled my nose at the scene. “What’s Dickie on?”

  Chad blew it off. “He probably cut a few lines or something. You know Dick.”

  I reeled back to get a good look at my boyfriend. “And you?”

  “You know I don’t touch that stuff,” Chad assured. “Dickie means no harm.”

  Chad never did hard-core drugs that I knew of; he’d drink a few beers at the occasional party. But with his friends so openly using, sometimes I wondered.

  “Okay,” I let out.

  “I’m glad you came. What’s a little fun without the greatest girl in the world by my side?” Chad came close and kissed my cheek, his lips lingering against my skin with the promise of more. I should’ve been into it, but with the newest arrival to the Smith household, I was off my game.

  Tyson Trice.

  I’d never known his full name, but of course he had one, and it even fit him.

  Randomly, I wondered if anyone ever called him TT.

  Probably not.

  Tyson was a strong, masculine name, perfectly fitting for the man he had grown into.

  He must work out regularly to maintain that build.

  Chad snuggled me close, sending butterflies to my belly. With him, I always felt safe.

  Relaxing, I reached out and cupped his jaw. “Thanks for the sushi run.”

  At first he nodded, but then he became quizzical. “What was up last
night?”

  “Oh, that? It’s just a major, minor, inconvenience.”

  Chad grinned. “Well, which is it, major or minor?”

  I didn’t want to explain Tyson to him. “It’s complicated. Let’s just focus on today.”

  Chad shrugged it off. “That reminds me, I need a huge favor.”

  “What?”

  He left my side and went to the kitchen, then dug below the island, in the cabinet, before coming up with a bouquet of flowers.

  My heart lifted as I began to smile. I loved that Chad wasn’t afraid to be sweet in front of his friends. Some guys thought that was lame or corny, but not my guy.

  My boyfriend came over and bestowed upon me the colorful arrangement of carnations and lilies as the most adorable expression covered his face. “Say yes.”

  I giggled as I accepted the flowers. “Is this your way of buttering me up?”

  Chad shook his head. “Nah, I just realized I hadn’t gotten you flowers in a while. I’ve been slacking.”

  He hadn’t been, but I admired the effort. “Okay, what’s the favor?”

  He clasped his hands together as if in prayer. “My mom’s friend, Charlotte Ray, is throwing an event next weekend, and she’s showing off some pieces she designed...and my mom promised she’d get some girls to model for her.”

  I took a step back as my stomach instantly knotted up at the mention of his mother and Charlotte Ray. The music was a little loud. Maybe I hadn’t heard him. “What?”

  He frowned. “Come on, Nan, you heard me.”

  I’d known Mrs. Ray all my life in passing. Unfortunately. “Since when is she into fashion?”

  “Since she recently got divorced and is a few mil richer and bored, babe.”

  “Ugh, previously on The Real Housewives of Pacific Hills,” I groaned.

  “You know how my mom gets,” Chad responded, holding me close. “She personally suggested you due to all that shit you do for school, and you know my mom always gets her way. She’s going to be a pain come time for cotillion.”

  Mrs. Bradley was on the cotillion committee—she kind of was the cotillion committee—which meant I had to play nice if I wanted things to run smoothly.