Beth
"For the hundredth time, the universe doesn't hate you. And I'm sure Cole doesn't hate your product either!" Sophie says, holding up an ivory lace top. "You should wear this one!"
Sophie can't resist dressing me anymore than she can Snickerdoodle. I love the girl, I really do, but I have no desire to be her latest project.
"I am so not in the mood to hang out with more strangers," I say as I flop onto her bed and cover my eyes with my arm. I'm feeling completely drained. I just want this lousy day to end. "Why can't you let me sulk here in peace?"
"I still say there's a misunderstanding," Sophie says. "Cole was super sweet to me."
"Of course he was. That's because he's likes you. Me, not so much. I didn't know the guy for five minutes before he ripped my product apart and told me I needed to present it like you!"
"You're reading too much into it. So the guy doesn't like you to say um. Big freaking deal. You're not used to public speaking. You'll get it like that," Sophie snaps her fingers. "C'mon, girl. You need to unwind. Let your hair down and laugh. There's an awesome group coming tonight. My friend Greg is excited to meet you. You two would be perfect together!"
"Right," I say with no enthusiasm. I don't have much confidence in Sophie's matchmaking skills. The last time she set me up with a guy, he took a phone call from his exgirlfriend at the table and spent half the date talking to her. A real winner, that one. Needless to say, date #2 never happened.
It feels weird to be hanging around with nothing to do. At home, I would be helping put dinner together or showing Olivia how to multiply fractions. It's actually kind of relaxing to not have any expectations for once.
"So what did you think of Boob boy?" Sophie looks at me with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"I think he's devastated to lose his muse," I grin. "I'm sure he's missing your wicked sense of humor and intelligence." Sophie snorts.
"Right!"
"Seriously, though, he took one look at my chest and decided there was nothing of interest there," I continue. "Trust me, I'm not complaining. I don't know how you put up with all those guys who ogle you. It's nice to fly under the radar sometimes."
"It's a mixed blessing," Sophie says, laughing. "You wouldn't believe how creative guys can be when assigning names to a stranger's anatomy, especially online where it's anonymous. Apparently ample chests are like pregnant bellies. Everyone feels like they have a constitutional right to make a creepy comment!"
I roll over onto my stomach and prop my chin in my hands. I'm surprised by how much I like Sophie's silk sheets. I've always been the practical one, usually sleeping on cotton, or flannel when it gets drafty in the winter. It's one of the disadvantages to having an old house, though I realize with a pang, that drafty house isn't really ours anymore. I feel a little sick in my stomach as I think of it sitting there, empty. Unless we rent it soon, it doesn't matter if we've moved out of the house. We'll still lose it.
"Uh oh. I recognize that look," Sophie says. "Are you still mad about Isaac switching you out of your group? I would be. Pete, Robert and Ling are way more cool to work with, and Isaac's a dream. He did get a little snippy, though, when Snickerdoodle was naughty—"
"Sophs? No offense, but I'd really rather not talk about Isaac right now. Besides, I wasn't even thinking about him."
"What were you thinking about that made you so sad then? Wait, I know. It's your house, isn't it?"
I nod.
Sophie plops on the bed next to me and gives me a big hug.
"I'm really sorry, Beth. I would be totally gutted if I lost my house. I hope everything works out so you can live there again."
"Maybe it's for the best," I say. "I love that house, but I never liked who I was in that house. I was always the disappointment. The girl that never lived up to expectations. If I could live there by myself, maybe it would different."
"What was the happiest time of your life?" Sophie asks.
"When I was at Harvard," I say without hesitation. "For the first time in my life, I felt like I was fully living. I woke up each day with a purpose and didn't have to answer to anyone but myself."
"Why didn't you go back and finish after your father got better?"
"I was going to. You don't know how excited I was to get back to school. I missed it so much."
And I missed Isaac, I think with an ache.
"I was all set to go back. I'd even paid for my classes and bought my books. Then my sister Mariah's husband Trevor died and she came home to live with us in Nantucket. Olivia was only two years old, and Toby wasn't even born yet. Mariah was a mess. She cried all day, every day. She barely ate anything. I practically had to force her to eat. Olivia didn't understand what had happened, and she was distraught that her mother was too wrapped up in her grief to help her."
That's when Isaac left for Africa and I had to face the reality I had lost him for good.
"For the next five years, I planned to return to Harvard. I was just holding out until Mariah got better, but it took her a lot longer than I expected. My father wasn't any help. He was too busy running his business into the ground. Mariah finally agreed to get counseling and seemed to get better. At least she was able to function. By then, Olivia was having problems, though.
"Eventually we discovered she had a severe case of dyslexia. For me it was a relief to finally know what was wrong, but Mariah was in complete denial. She didn't believe Olivia had a learning disorder. She thought Livie was just acting out for attention, which is supremely ironic considering Mariah is the queen of faking things. Olivia needed a lot of help, but Mariah insisted it was all in Olivia's head and she just needed to try harder. Livie went from being a bright student and loving school to a depressed kid who hated school and was constantly trying to get out of it. We received several calls from the principal of her school. I chalked her depression up to her frustrations with the dyslexia, never dreaming there might be another reason."
"I opened a pocket in her backpack one day and found it crammed full of notes. I pulled them out and started reading them. They were awful, Sophie. These kids were calling her ugly, fat, stupid, retarded. Some of them even told her she should go kill herself. We talked to a few of Olivia's friends and found it all started with a teacher. Her teacher was frustrated with Livie's constant talking and disruptiveness and had been making abusive comments for most of the school year. The kids had turned on her as well and teased her mercilessly."
"Monsters. Poor Livie," Sophie murmurs.
"I was furious. I went straight to the school and dumped the notes in front of the principal and teacher. The school defended the teacher and said the kids were lying. They said they would talk to the kids about the notes, but they couldn't punish them because they had been written anonymously. After that, the notes got even more ugly and threatening. Some of them mocked us, saying we were powerless to stop them. We pulled Olivia out of the school because we didn't feel she was safe. A private school was a possibility, but my Father and Mariah refused. I later found out my Father couldn't afford it, but even if he could, Mariah wouldn't have allowed it because she didn't want Olivia labeled."
I shift on the bed to face Sophie better.
"We moved back to the house in Lexington. Now we were close enough for me to return to Harvard, but I wasn't sure if it made sense to anymore. All my friends had left and were running successful businesses. Solere was thriving under David and Heidi's leadership. I thought maybe I should just set up my own business and help Olivia with her schooling on the side. It's been five years since we moved back. Olivia is finally starting to enjoy school again, which is a relief, but it requires a lot of work from me. The business thing still hasn't worked out yet, and there never seems to be enough time."
Sophie hops off the bed.
"So what if things haven't worked out? You're only 30. You have tons of opportunities ahead of you."
"I just wish I had something to show for my life so far."
"Girl, you need to get your mojo back. You need to remember what it was like to be that fierce woman who knows she's got the right to go after her dreams with everything she's got. You've been putting yourself last for too long, but you don't need to this summer. Your family is gone. It's high time you put yourself out there, starting with tonight."
"Sophs—" I groan.
"No excuses," she says. "I know you're exhausted. Take a nap. I'll finish a salad and throw the chicken on the grill. Come join us once you're rested."
"Yay. You're finally letting me sleep."
She throws a pillow at my face. I pull it under my head and nestle in. In less than a minute, I pass out.
When I wake up, I have drooled all over Sophie's pillow. I sit up and look in the mirror. My hair is smashed to the side of my head and my mascara has left rings under my eyes. I don't look so great, but I feel much better. The nap was just the thing I needed to clear my mind.
I brush my hair and stare at the white top thoughtfully.
Sophie's right. I have been denying myself for too long. I don't know why I do it. Most of the time when presented with an opportunity to do something fun, I passed it up to take care of my family. Pass up enough opportunities and eventually people quit asking.
The difference now is I have no excuse why I can't do things. Maybe I have been using my family, and Olivia in particular, as an excuse to not put myself out there in ways that would force me to get over my shyness. I shouldn't be so nervous to make new friends or to sit with a guy and actually carry on a conversation to see if we hit it off. I had no difficulty being friendly back when I was at Harvard.
If I can't do these basic things, what shot do I possibly have winning The Next Big Thing? I will have to convince the judges to believe in my work. How can they possibly believe in me if I don't believe in myself?
Sophie's right. I need to find myself again. I need to rediscover that confident girl who once helped build an enormously successful business and has it in her to do it again. She's in there somewhere, I'm sure of it.
I change into the top and shorts, fix my makeup and recurl my hair. I can do this.
As I enter the kitchen, I hear the others laughing and talking inside. I pour myself a glass of water and stare out the window. Everyone seems to be having a great time. My stomach growls and I decide the chicken coming off the grill looks mighty tempting.
Before I can join the others, the doorbell rings. I open the door.
A clean shaven guy with a blonde crew cut and a devastating smile is standing on the porch. He is wearing a blue button-down shirt and fitted jeans.
"Hey, I'm Greg," he says.
I open the screen door and extend a hand, which he shakes.
"I'm Beth," I say. His eyes light up in recognition, confirming that Sophie has been talking me up.
"Wow! You look great! Sorry I'm late."
At first glance, Greg appears to be a vast improvement over the last guy Sophie tried to set me up with. Too soon to call it, though.
"Thanks," I say. "No worries. I just joined the party too."
I lead him to the backyard, feeling his interested gaze on my back. After a day of feeling rejected, first by Isaac, then Cole, and even Boob boy, it feels good to be desired by an attractive man.
As I walk outside, Sophie squeals and moves in my direction.
"Beth!" she says, pulling me into a tight hug and whispering, "You look hot!"
Pulling back, she beams up at Greg and puts her hand on his shoulder.
"So glad you could make it Greg. This is my girl, Beth, the one I was telling you about."
He smiles at me and I smile back and try not to blush too much. It's not working too well. We load up our plates and sit down at one of those folding tables.
"So how long have you known Sophie?" Greg asks.
"Let me see, five or six years now. Her family moved in two houses down from my family, and we hit it off right away."
His eyes widen.
"Nice neighborhood," he says.
I smile. I'm not surprised he's impressed. This is the wealthiest part of Lexington. Each house is worth millions.
"Which house is it?" he asks.
"That way," I say, pointing with my fork to the right.
"No kidding? You're a Malcolm?"
I nod.
"My dad used to drive us by the house sometimes and tell us the history. Seems surreal to know someone who actually lives there. What was it like growing up there?"
Lived, I think. I should probably correct him, but I really don't feel like explaining our financial situation to a complete stranger.
"I never knew any different," I shrug, eating a bite of chicken. It's delicious. I'll have to figure out how she marinates it. "Even as a child, though, I sensed there was something special about it. I am pretty attached to the place."
"I bet," Greg says. "I'd love to see the bullet hole in the stairs sometime."
"Sure," I say, feeling my heart skip a beat.
Sophie turns up the music so it's thumping. Most of the others have finished eating. Several of them strip down to their bathing suits and jump into the pool, splashing everyone nearby. Greg leans back and rests his arm on the back of my chair.
He says something, but the music is so loud I can't hear him. I shake my head.
"What?"
He leans near to speak directly in my ear.
"Looks like fun," he says, nodding at the swimmers. "Want to join them?"
Smooth. He is so close to me I can smell his cologne. It's too bad I'm such a lousy flirt. This would be the perfect opportunity if I had any skill.
"Maybe later," I say into his ear, pointing to my plate. "After I finish."
"Of course," he says, grinning.
I lean back in my chair so his fingertips lazily brush my shoulder and neck. His jean clad leg moves against mine and I feel tingles up my leg. I haven't had a physical reaction like this in a long time. Too long. I look up into his eyes and realize he's staring at my lips.
The music stops.
"Beth!" someone calls.
I look up to see Sophie weaving through the crowd, holding hands with the last person I want to see.
Isaac.
_______________
If you enjoyed this chapter, please hit that star!
Whoa! How do you think this is going to go down with Isaac and Greg?
So we finally learn more about poor Livie's bullying. It's such a rampant problem in schools, unfortunately. My husband had a third grade teacher who thought he was too wild and was always cutting him down. She even called him a bastard, which was so not cool.
Fortunately, most teachers I've had have been great. When we dealt with bullying with my dyslexic son, we were fortunate that the teacher (who was also the principal) and the mother of the bully (who is a friend I admire greatly) came onboard to help us fix the problem. It was such a relief to see things get better for my son. I'm happy that our experience with working with a public school was a success story, but sadly that's not the case for too many. I'm also very concerned about the bullying of students toward teachers, which seems to becoming more of a problem all the time.
Kicking this chapter off with an awesome song - Irresistible by Fallout Boy. Enjoy! I update every Tuesday and Friday!
Dedication for this chapter goes out to the Wattpad Romance profile. If you write romance and haven't checked out this profile yet, you really should! You can get inspired by reading prompts or enter contests for romance writers and readers. There are also a lot of great books in their Reading Lists. The Romance Ambassadors are also a great resource, including these fabulous Wattpadders EliseNoble, MaryFahey, SilverInStars, and xFakingaSmilex.