Cedar Valley High Series #1
Zaydence Denholm is in trouble. She and her best friend are crushing on the same guy. On her part, she views this as the ultimate betrayal. This crush alongside overbearing and emotionally detached parents, and a complica...
I leaned against the spiral staircase, facing her, "I must have forgotten."
I didn't forget. In the middle of the night, I indulged myself with leftover tofu tacos from Dad's secret mini-fridge. I couldn't do the weigh-in, it wouldn't be my dry weight. She would know. She always knew.
I rubbed Jodie's exterior. Self-soothing, Zeriah called it.
Mom pinched the bridge of her crooked nose, and left the foyer. I walked up the stairs to my bedroom, knowing I would hear more about it later.
I've been a healthy girl my entire existence. In a house where junk food and sweets weren't allowed, there was no other way to be. The food was great; Dad was born to be in the kitchen.
However, I was only human. My sophomore year of high school, we had a change in principal and suddenly off-campus lunch was on the table. According to Mom, off-campus lunch was the worst idea ever.
On one hand, she was being dramatic. My PCP said weight gain at this age could be hormonal since I otherwise ate clean but Mom's iron will wouldn't falter.
On the other hand, my waistline agreed. I didn't like how none of my jeans fit and my shirts were tight around the arms, so I agreed to the weigh-ins. I wish I would've known how over the top she was going to be.
I yanked off my cream-colored camisole, and tossed it in the laundry basket with my shorts. I changed into silk pajamas and tugged a bonnet on.
I flung myself onto my bed, and yelled into one of my million pillows. This was a daily ritual. An hour later, I was in the same position but on the phone with Wyatt—my best friend.
"A harlot was flirting with Milo," he hissed through my BlarsPods.
Was it me? Was I the harlot? Did he know I went to the Kalsart in Clifton Park on purpose after discovering that Milo worked there instead of the one closest to me in West Dibly?
How would he know?
"Who?" I rolled onto my back. My stomach was caving in.
"Mathlete. Brook? Beau?" he was terrible with names.
"Burke, wait, how do you—"
"Kenna's private story,"
"Harlot?" I questioned his word choice.
"Mathletes are knooown for being sex fiends,"
"Intelligence is attractive,"
I was attracted to Milo's intelligence. Being on the Gold list was admirable. Not everyone could say they had a 5.0 GPA or 100s and 98s in every class. It was incredible.
He's not yours to think about.
I was being a terrible friend. I couldn't like the same guy as Wyatt. Milo was his crush. He couldn't be mine too. It broke an important friendship rule. In fact, it was pure betrayal.
I would keep this to myself even if it killed me.
Wyatt couldn't know.
Ever.
"Milo goes to your Mom's gym?" he asked.
It wasn't a gym.
"Wellness center,"
"Tuhmayto, tuhmahto,"
"Yeah. Why?"
"He was in beast mode at tryouts."
Soccer tryouts were today?
I stared at the blank space underneath today's date on my monthly calendar. Photos of Wyatt and I were scattered on the adjacent wall.
I exclaimed, "You didn't tell me, I would've come to cheer you on!"
"Tryouts are tryouts. When it's game time, you'll be the first to know," an extra flair of confidence was in his voice.
It was amazing how long we could talk about nothing.
At the one hour milestone our conversation took a sharp left onto the my-parents-are-annoying boulevard.
The house was too big to walk around looking for everyone. I opened KeepTrack and peeped their locations. I needed to ensure that no one was home before I raged.
KeepTrack
Evon Denholm at Denholm's Wellness Center in Emerald Grove
Winter Denholm at Emerald Grove Botanical Garden
Zaydence Denholm at 64 N. Crescent Street
Zeriah Denholm at Busy Bee Hair Salon
"Zaydence you forgot the weigh-in," I mimicked Mom's cold tone, "Always the stupid fucking weigh-in!" I kicked my feet out in front of me.
"Real men play tennis!" he copied his father's—Mr. Maganlith—voice.
"You spent $13.45. Where's your receipt? Where's your receipt?"
"Soccer is for poor people!"
"Did you go to a corner store? I told Henry it was forbidden!"
"Your hair is too long, you look like a f**,"
I gasped, clenching my fists, "He called you a—"
"Two more years, and we're gone. Two more fucking years. " he chanted.
In two years we would graduate from Cedar Valley High. Start our fall semester at Sunny Hills University. Get an apartment close to campus. He would major in Chemistry. I would major in Physics.
We would be 141 miles away from the parents who claimed to love us yet were perpetually ashamed of us.
I wouldn't have to lie anymore. About anything.
I would be free.
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