“Hit the wall,” such as the probation officer I had my senior year at Avon Porter after juvie, Alisa Bellamy.
Talk about a royal b-hole. She’d almost prevented me from getting into college.
Not to mention the prosecuting attorney at the trial, Finn Donovan, who nearly screamed, “Murderer!” to my face (behind the judge’s back) every time I walked into the courtroom.
Funny how I’d never forget them, considering they pushed me down so far into the depths of despair. That was really where I got my strength to move forward, though. Thinking about them winning in their crusade to destroy my life gave me the power to carry on. That, and the fact that one day I’d get to see my baby, Rose, again.
Yes, those folks I’d like to see gone, but not Poppy. A part of me admired the girl. Coming on a scholarship from the Midwest with no money, she’d only been in town a short while and already had made a name for herself. If anything, Poppy’s parents rode her famous coattails, living the life at various social events.
Barf!
Sometimes, I wondered how I might’ve turned out if I wasn’t a Farnworth. Taddy held a similar drive as Poppy. I guess when you had nothing in life, you just naturally pushed yourself till you got where you needed to go. But if everything you’d ever wanted had been handed to you on a silver platter, where did you go from there?
Mama would argue, “My little angel, you go from a silver platter to a platinum one.”
Thinking about Mama, Papa, Alisa, Finn, and the apology letter I had yet to finish, I reached across the nightstand for my cocktail. I took a sip. Mmm . The juniper berries and herbs in the gin always tasted a bit medicinal to me. My medicine. I loved my gin. I stared at Seneca, admiring his male beauty, and tried to enjoy the buzz from the beverage.
“Has Jay Austin texted you tonight?” He lit a cigarette.
His tobacco emitted an earthy aroma in my room, which masked the usual sticky-sweet alcohol smell Taddy and Lex hated so much.
“Nope.”
Jay Austin had joined us in the search, but then he’d called it quits when we’d reached midtown to go home and prepare for his lecture the following day. Dr. Henry was starting to let him teach more of his classes; which was a good thing, because he was rather boring to listen to and even less stimulating to look at. He just didn’t grab me the way my boyfriend did when he taught journalism class.
Trust me, Dr. Henry couldn’t sell us on studying Penny Press and the invention of the telegraph the way my boyfriend could.
Like I mentioned earlier, there was something familiar with Jay Austin, as if I’d known him my entire life. It made being with him easy. At times, his demeanor reminded me of Sanderloo. Maybe that’s why I had such affection toward him. Mama said it was natural to be drawn to people who reminded you of your loved ones, especially if they’d passed on.
“Do you think he behaved…odd tonight?” Seneca asked, pulling me roughly, almost violently, toward him. I tilted my head back, downing the last of my drink as he snuggled tightly to my bosom.
“Perhaps. I haven’t thought much about it.” I chewed on the ice for a second, burying my face against his, before asking, “Why?”
“He seemed manic. Pupils dilated. Sweating.” He took a long drag from his cigarette as I hung on his words for a minute. Softly, his exhale fanned my face. I didn’t mind; after all, I liked the smell.
“The NYPD stated he was the last person to see Poppy White, so I’m sure that’s making him a bit nervous. He’s got a lot on his shoulders right now with school, too.”
I was protective of everyone I loved. That was my whole problem. I was a ride-or-die chick. That was what Lex called me. I was that type of friend who would defend your honor, go to bat for you, and risk it all in your name. That was what I’d done for Blake, the night Sanderloo had died. It’s just how I’m wired.
I’d like to think that at the
Talk about a royal b-hole. She’d almost prevented me from getting into college.
Not to mention the prosecuting attorney at the trial, Finn Donovan, who nearly screamed, “Murderer!” to my face (behind the judge’s back) every time I walked into the courtroom.
Funny how I’d never forget them, considering they pushed me down so far into the depths of despair. That was really where I got my strength to move forward, though. Thinking about them winning in their crusade to destroy my life gave me the power to carry on. That, and the fact that one day I’d get to see my baby, Rose, again.
Yes, those folks I’d like to see gone, but not Poppy. A part of me admired the girl. Coming on a scholarship from the Midwest with no money, she’d only been in town a short while and already had made a name for herself. If anything, Poppy’s parents rode her famous coattails, living the life at various social events.
Barf!
Sometimes, I wondered how I might’ve turned out if I wasn’t a Farnworth. Taddy held a similar drive as Poppy. I guess when you had nothing in life, you just naturally pushed yourself till you got where you needed to go. But if everything you’d ever wanted had been handed to you on a silver platter, where did you go from there?
Mama would argue, “My little angel, you go from a silver platter to a platinum one.”
Thinking about Mama, Papa, Alisa, Finn, and the apology letter I had yet to finish, I reached across the nightstand for my cocktail. I took a sip. Mmm . The juniper berries and herbs in the gin always tasted a bit medicinal to me. My medicine. I loved my gin. I stared at Seneca, admiring his male beauty, and tried to enjoy the buzz from the beverage.
“Has Jay Austin texted you tonight?” He lit a cigarette.
His tobacco emitted an earthy aroma in my room, which masked the usual sticky-sweet alcohol smell Taddy and Lex hated so much.
“Nope.”
Jay Austin had joined us in the search, but then he’d called it quits when we’d reached midtown to go home and prepare for his lecture the following day. Dr. Henry was starting to let him teach more of his classes; which was a good thing, because he was rather boring to listen to and even less stimulating to look at. He just didn’t grab me the way my boyfriend did when he taught journalism class.
Trust me, Dr. Henry couldn’t sell us on studying Penny Press and the invention of the telegraph the way my boyfriend could.
Like I mentioned earlier, there was something familiar with Jay Austin, as if I’d known him my entire life. It made being with him easy. At times, his demeanor reminded me of Sanderloo. Maybe that’s why I had such affection toward him. Mama said it was natural to be drawn to people who reminded you of your loved ones, especially if they’d passed on.
“Do you think he behaved…odd tonight?” Seneca asked, pulling me roughly, almost violently, toward him. I tilted my head back, downing the last of my drink as he snuggled tightly to my bosom.
“Perhaps. I haven’t thought much about it.” I chewed on the ice for a second, burying my face against his, before asking, “Why?”
“He seemed manic. Pupils dilated. Sweating.” He took a long drag from his cigarette as I hung on his words for a minute. Softly, his exhale fanned my face. I didn’t mind; after all, I liked the smell.
“The NYPD stated he was the last person to see Poppy White, so I’m sure that’s making him a bit nervous. He’s got a lot on his shoulders right now with school, too.”
I was protective of everyone I loved. That was my whole problem. I was a ride-or-die chick. That was what Lex called me. I was that type of friend who would defend your honor, go to bat for you, and risk it all in your name. That was what I’d done for Blake, the night Sanderloo had died. It’s just how I’m wired.
I’d like to think that at the
Similar Books
