4. Clara

CHAPTER 4

CLARA

I’m sorry about your dad, Nick. Meet me behind the library during fourth period. I don’t feel like going to English class today. Friends, huh? Of course. Whatever was I thinking? - HB

Unbelievable. Men were on an entirely different level of idiocy.

Heartbreaker.

I threw the car into gear and backed out of my spot. Nick was lucky I didn’t run his ass over. I’d think about him later—or not. Gracie needed me now.

I glanced at Gracie. “Okay, that principal of yours is a useless idiot, right?”

“Pretty much,” she scoffed.

I couldn’t help myself. “And, what about uh, the teacher from the parking lot. How’s he?”

“Mr. Easton is cool. Everyone likes him. Did he ask you out? And you turned him down? Is that why there was such a chill in the air? You seemed pissed. You still do.”

Crap. Crap, crap, crap.“No, I’m fine. Uh, we were just talking about you and your ankle. It doesn’t matter. Pindich is on my shit list, and I’ll deal with him later. Forget about Mr. Easton, that’s nothing. Who did this to you? Pudding, right?”

She shut her eyes as her head hit the back of her seat. “Yeah. I got doused at lunch.”

“Give me a name. I’ll⁠—”

Gracie held a hand up to stop my tirade. “No names. I got this. I’ll clean up at your place, then go home.”

“Fine, but at least tell me why,” I demanded. Names could come later. Plus, the why often led straight to the who.

“Fine, since obviously you’re not going to drop this. So, you know, um . . .” She let out a huge sigh. “Look, Ruby and I aren’t the most popular or well-liked girls at Green Valley High, okay?” Ruby was Gracie’s best friend and had been for years. “Ruby has that whole overachiever, pushy, know-it-all nerd thing going and I’m, um . . .”

“Let me guess, a trashy hillbilly Hill?” I looked away from the road to raise my eyebrows in her direction, and she huffed a laugh.

“Yup, that.”

“Sounds familiar. Been there done that. Want me to go down to the school and raise hell? ’Cause I will. I can make life very unpleasant for Pindich and anyone else who gives you a hard time. You know, I taught you how to throw a punch. No one in the family will be pissed if you get detention. What’s the problem? Is it the crutches? Is balance an issue? You could always start a food fight or put a few cockroaches in their lockers.”

“No, I can’t hit any of them. And damn, Clara, remind me never to mess with you.” She laughed, then got more serious. “Forget about detention, I could get expelled or suspended. Pindich has instituted a zero-tolerance violence policy⁠—”

I stopped at the red light and turned to her. I couldn’t help the fact that my voice rose in time with my indignation. “Oh, but people can throw pudding at you at lunch? How is that okay? It’s bullshit. No, uh-uh, nope.” I shook my head, getting more heated with each passing second. “How else are you supposed to keep assholes from picking on you if you can’t beat the shit out of them? I do not understand kids today. Do I need to buy a few cases of pudding to arm you with? What do I do? Give me some names, Gracie. I need somewhere to channel this rage.”

She shrugged.

“Tell me everything so I can take care of it for you. I’m gonna figure this out, Gracie.” Her eyes glinted with hesitation, so I pushed her. “I can handle it. Don’t worry about Willa or Everett or Sadie.” I tapped my chest with my pointer finger. “I’m the one who takes care of shit like this.” The only response I got was a weighty sigh. I hit the gas once the light turned green.

After a few moments, she said, “Fine. After Weston graduated and left for college no one has any reason to not treat us like shit anymore.” Gracie’s boyfriend, who was also Ruby’s older brother, had been the quarterback on the football team, homecoming king, and senior class president. You name it, and he did it—he was exactly like Nick, now that I think of it, damn it. Weston had been the walking definition of popular his junior and senior years and now he was off to become a football star at UT—the University of Tennessee—just like frickin’ Nick. “Remember Ruby’s friend Marianne?”

“Yeah . . . ?” I pulled into my garage and cut the engine. “Let’s get you cleaned up. I have a stack of clean shirts in the laundry room—well, more like a pile since I don’t fold—so help yourself.” She followed me inside, heading into the laundry room while I fixed us drinks. “Keep talking!” I shouted as she changed.

“They used to be close but then it became all about Weston. Turns out she was just hanging around and being nice to us to get close to him.” She entered the kitchen, and I handed her an icy Dr Pepper. “Thanks.”

“To the porch.”

She snagged a bag of popcorn with an amused grin. “Are you ever not sitting out on that dang porch?”

“That would be a no. Come on.” We settled on the swing, and I took a huge sip of coffee—iced, of course, since it was afternoon. I raised my eyebrows and waited for her to continue.

“So, she’d been crushing on him, and was like, waiting for an opening or something. Now that he’s away at college and she found out he broke up with me, she’s become an unsufferable bitch. It started a few weeks before school, mostly on social media—starting rumors about me and stuff like that. But she ramped her shit up today.” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “First day of school, no Weston around, and with a sprained ankle so I couldn’t even run away? Boom, I get covered in pudding. Ugh, could it get any worse?”

My head reared back in shock. “Back up—you and Weston broke up? What the heck happened, Gracie? Why didn’t you tell me? And was Ruby there when the pudding thing happened? I can’t imagine her not defending you, or at least sticking by you.”

She shot me a look. “She has no idea what happened today, and don’t you go telling her. She’s not like us. She can’t handle shit like this. I mean physical shit—direct confrontations, fights, or whatever. I saw Marianne coming and I knew it would be bad, so I sent Ruby to get something out of my locker.”

“I could see that about her. She’s kind of innocent, right? And Weston?”

“He broke up with me so I could have a fun senior year without having to like, wait around for him or whatever.” She threw her hands in the air, letting me know exactly what she thought of that idea. “He still texts me every morning. He still loves me, and I still love him. It’s the stupid distance that has him all worked up. He doesn’t want to hold me back.”

“So, this is more like a break than a breakup? What a noble little idiot man-boy he is.” That earned me a smile. “I think y’all will be okay. If the two of you are meant to be, it will work out in the end, right?” Says the woman who was dumped hard by the teenage love of her life . . .

“I guess so. I mean, probably. It still sucks for now though.”

Hating seeing her so sad, I switched the subject. “Let’s put a pin in the Weston thing. We’ll talk that through later. Give me some names, Gracie. Tell me everything.”

She shook her head. “I ratted out Marianne, that’s enough. And you can’t say anything to anyone about any of this. Promise me.”

I held my hands up. “I’m not making any promises. Secrets are bad.” Said the woman who was hiding an entire past relationship with her sister’s teacher . . .

I was sensing a theme here. Was I destined to keep providing advice I would never, ever take?

Why was I being so encouraging when life so rarely worked out the way you wanted it to? Damn, I was such a hypocrite.

“I don’t want Weston driving back here to protect me. And don’t get me started on Everett and Willa—they have their own crap to deal with. I don’t want them going to prison for murdering my bully bitch trio, okay? Plus, they’re exhausted because no one ever sleeps over there. Toddlers are insane.” Our mother had given Willa and Everett custody of Gracie after they got married, and she lived with them a few streets over from mine.

Did it piss me off that she refused to let me or Sadie take her to live with one of us years ago? Hell yes it did. But now I was just happy that Gracie was with Willa and her hubby, Everett, and that my mother was finally in therapy and trying to atone for how she’d treated us over the years.

I nudged her shoulder with mine. “Oh, but it’s fine if I go to prison? Real nice, Gracie.”

She huffed a laugh and leaned into my side. “We both know you’d never get caught. Besides, I can handle myself. I’ll be fine. I just needed someone to talk this through with. Dealing with stupid boys at school is easy. Marianne and her little minions are not. For whatever reason, they are determined to make me miserable. I am not looking forward to the rest of the year.”

“Mean girls are insidious,” I agreed. “Trust me, I know. You hold tight. I’ll come up with a way to fix this without resorting to murder or violence. I promise. Stealth mode is my best mode.”

“I’ll be fine, Clara. I swear.”

“Yeah, you sure as hell will be. I’m going to make sure of it. You deserve to have an enjoyable senior year. At least one of us Hills is going to have a positive teen experience, damn it. I know you’re missing Weston. You don’t need a bunch of rotten little bitches adding to it.”

Tears filled her eyes. “I love you, Clara.” Her lower lip trembled; she bit it and looked away.

Forget my promise. I was ready to commit murder. All I needed were the names of the other two little Mean Girls’ Plastics wannabes and I’d find a spot in the backyard to bury them in. Metaphorically, of course.

“I love you back. Come here.” I wrapped my arms around her and pushed the swing with my foot. “You tell me everything from now on. I’m fine with no names—for now, anyway. Promise me, Gracie.” I felt her nod against my shoulder, and I relaxed.

It was on.

Sadie, Willa, and I had a miserable time back in high school. Our dad had left, our mom was fully ensconced in her verbally abusive bitch era, and the three of us had acted out in every way a teenage girl could. Cutting school, drinking under the bleachers, running around with boys, and doing all the things we shouldn’t.

Sadie got pregnant and married her dumbass ex-husband straight out of high school. Willa ran away from home to marry her loser boyfriend and had stayed gone for almost a decade. And I had ended up in Nashville secretly stripping at various burlesque clubs to pay my way through college and law school.

Lavender Lane, indeed. That name had died when I stopped stripping. Nobody knew about it, not even Sadie. It was the only secret I’d ever kept from her. A purple bobbed wig, creative stage makeup, and lavender-tinted cat-eye glasses had kept my face disguised. And who would ever recognize me in Nashville, anyway?

I had majored in pre-law and minored in finance. Every penny I made—and stripping had made me a lot—was invested into my education and the stock market so I could ensure that the Hill sisters would never be treated like shit again and we’d always have what we needed.

But one look at Nick this morning had sent me back to feeling like I was curled up in a ball under the bleachers, half-drunk and crying about my dad being gone and my mom being a bitch, and I resented it.

Nick had never been part of my delinquent friend group, which was probably why it had been so easy for us to keep our relationship a secret. Even though he had been working through the loss of his dad and his mother’s quick remarriage, he had put his focus on his grades and the football team and all the other extracurricular crap he did.

He hadn’t wanted his mother to find out about me, about how much trouble I was always in. He said she’d never allow him to date me if she knew. But the bottom line was I just wasn’t good enough for him.

A car sped around the corner, shaking me out of my thoughts. I watched as it pulled into the garage next to Janice and Leonard’s place and Curt Pindich stepped out. I only ever referred to him by his first name. He was your garden-variety man on a power trip. Mediocre in every way but determined to rise above it by stepping on others on his way up.

“Oh, crap.” I gestured across the street as my mind connected the dots that Nick had distracted me from earlier. “That’s him. Pindich, right? I knew that name sounded familiar.” He had a huge, unkempt pine tree next to the driveway that drove Leonard nuts because the dried-up needles and little branches constantly dropped off and littered his yard. It was hilarious to watch Leonard mumbling curses as he swept them up, but infuriating that Pindich insisted on being such a dick about it. It was a blight on the entire street, the jerk.

Gracie glared in his direction. “Yup. The one and only.”

“Hmm, okay. All right.” A plan began percolating in my brain. I had to get into that school somehow to keep an eye on Gracie. She needed a bodyguard. Once Marianne and her little buddies realized I would absolutely make their lives a living hell on earth if they didn’t back off, they’d leave her alone. I was sure of it.

Maybe I could volunteer? Or perhaps become a substitute teacher?

I refused to let Gracie suffer the way we had. I refused to let her suffer at all. Especially not after I’d spent most of my adult life in therapy, making money, gaining knowledge, and working hard to make it so I could protect myself and my sisters.

No one would take advantage of or look down on us ever again—not on my watch. I decided to give our cousin Mari a call and ask her to keep an eye on Gracie while I solidified my plans to infiltrate the school and watch over her myself. Mari was family, she’d keep this hush-hush. And Nick had already offered to help. Even though he’d left me high and dry after high school, I didn’t think he’d let anyone pick on Gracie. She’d be okay until I could take care of the situation once and for all.

A pickup truck with the Monroe & Sons Construction logo emblazoned across the side pulled up to the curb in front of Nick’s future house. Gracie and I exchanged a look when Everett stepped out, waving to us with a huge smile across his face. “Hey!” he called as he started walking over. “You missed spaghetti night. Is everything okay?” He stopped at my porch railing with his eyebrows raised as he waited for my explanation.

“Hey,” I muttered, feeling guilty for missing dinner as I spied the huge cooler bag with a loaf of bread sticking out of the top.

“Busted.” Gracie laughed. “I forgot to tell you he’d be coming by with leftovers.”

After he married Willa, my sisters and I met at their house once a week for dinner. It was always spaghetti and Everett always cooked for us. He was sweet as could be, like the brother I never knew I needed. But last night I had been in no mood to be anywhere near my sisters, who were all living the dream with their hubbies and their kids and their happy bunch of bullshit. Though, if I’d known Gracie was as miserable as me, I might have reconsidered. “Yeah, I had a headache.” I had not had a headache; I’d spent the evening binge-watching Bob’s Burgers and stuffing my face with a bag of Cheetos.

His face softened. “Aw, I’m sorry to hear that. I have to work on the deck next door, so I figured I’d bring you some leftovers. I know you aren’t fond of cooking.”

“Thanks.” I stood and took the bag.

He let out a laugh when my stomach growled. “What have you had to eat today?”

I shrugged. “Coffee and angst.”

At that moment, Nick pulled into the driveway next door, and it was all I could do not to visibly react when two adorable middle school–aged kids popped out of the truck’s back seat carrying Daisy’s Nut House takeout bags. They stood in the driveway excitedly taking in their new house and my heart melted a bit—a very tiny little bit.

Gracie sat up, watching them just like I was. “Mr. Easton is going to be your neighbor?”

“I guess so.”

“He is,” Everett confirmed. “You know he was on the football team with Wyatt back in high school,” he informed Gracie as he waved at Nick. Wyatt was the only Monroe brother not married to one of my sisters or besties.

I already knew Nick had been on the football team. I used to know everything about him. Since this morning, the impulse to ask around town and find out what he’d been up to since high school was a huge temptation and it pissed me off. I was over him. Wasn’t I?

Everett turned to me. “You remember Nick, right? He’s a good guy, always has been. He’s been divorced for years—maybe the two of you could go out. I think he could be good for you.” He waggled his eyebrows at me, and I froze.

My mouth dropped open with a panicked gasp. “Uhhh . . .”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“What an awesome idea. His kids are cool. I babysit for them sometimes and he’s super nice.” Gracie nudged my shoulder, unwittingly saving me from answering Everett. I closed my mouth and plastered a smile on my face. “Now you don’t have to worry about another dickhead like Pindich moving in next door. One jerk on the block is enough.” Gracie called out with a wave and a huge grin, “Hi, Mr. Easton!”

“Hi, y’all.” Nick’s face was deliberately impassive as he took in the sight of us on the porch.

Clearly, he’d had no idea I lived here. The laws of small-town living had failed us both. Normally, information like where your exes lived and what they’d been up to since your breakup was easily obtainable, as people loved butting their heads in with helpful warnings about such things.

“Dad, it’s Gracie!” The little girl grinned at Gracie then introduced herself to me with a smile and wave. “I’m Sasha, and this is Ethan.”

His daughter was gorgeous. She was the spitting image of Nick; his son was too. All three had wavy dark brown hair, big golden-brown eyes, and perfectly matching noses—straight and slightly upturned at the tip. It was uncanny. I could tell they were both tall for their ages. Nick had hit six feet in middle school, and had finally topped out at six-foot-four.

“This is Clara and Everett,” Gracie introduced us.

“Nice to meet y’all.” Sasha’s huge grin and friendly, wide-open expression were unmistakable indicators she was an extrovert. “Do all of you live there?”

Gracie was already off the porch swing and halfway to their driveway. “No, just my sister, Clara. But I’m here all the time⁠—”

“We know Everett already too,” Ethan interrupted. “He’s our dad’s friend.” He turned and looked at me. “You’re the only one we don’t know.” Probably because I’d made avoiding Nick an art form since I got back to town.

“I’d better get to work on y’all’s deck,” Everett chimed in. “Eat that spaghetti, Clara.” His head dipped in my direction. “You can’t live off coffee and angst,” he said under his breath.

“I will. Thank you for bringing it over.”

“I’ll drive Gracie home when I’m done. I shouldn’t be too long. Thanks for picking her up from school.”

“Of course,” I murmured.

He lifted his chin with a grin and headed to his truck.

He was more of a father to Gracie than our own father had ever been. I almost felt bad for keeping the pudding incident from him, but not quite. I’d been her sister since she was born, and I had been protecting her the entire time, which meant I’d take her secrets to the grave with me if she wanted me to.

The kids’ voices blended into background noise as they chatted about Gracie’s ankle and their new house. Nick and I locked eyes, his hands shoved into his pockets and his shoulders hunched forward as he took a step toward me. I stared wordlessly across at him with my heart pounding.

Those should be my kids.

Startled, I flinched at the unexpected thought.

We should be moving into that house together.

Maybe then I would have been happy all these years. I bit my lip as intrusive thoughts anchored me to the porch swing. The shock of the images running through my mind rendered me helpless to escape them, so they just kept coming: me and Nick married, having babies, laughing together, just being together out in the open like we had intended to be after graduation.

I swallowed the lump of despair in my throat, choking it down before it obliterated my ability to disguise my feelings and I ended up bursting into sloppy tears in front of everybody. I had to get away from him.

“It was nice to meet you all.” I held up the cooler bag from Everett and smiled at Nick’s beautiful kids. “I have to get this put away.” My fingers twisted anxiously around the handle as I stood, yet I didn’t move from my spot in front of the porch swing. I couldn’t seem to look away from Nick.

The tenderness in his expression had me entranced; it was how he had always looked at me. It belied the hostility in his expression when he’d called me heartbreaker before. Confused, I took a step back as mixed feelings surged through me.

Was he thinking the same things about me?

I was so close to saying something to him. Waving him over so we could talk. Anything to make that look on his face stay.

But it didn’t last. I opened my mouth to speak right as his face emptied and turned cold. Only then was I able to break the spell and enter the safety of my house.