Rogue C39
“Are you sure?”
The voice is softly spoken and cultured. I recognize it immediately. Grandma Marchand herself, right in the kitchen next to me. So much for a stealthy entrance.
“Yes. I think it’s been going on for a while now,” Eloise says.
I push back against the door. The last thing I want to do is interrupt the two matriarchs while they’re conspiring. I know very well that they hold my potential fate with Lily in their hands.
“Hmm. Not surprising, I suppose. Teenagers will be teenagers.”
“Yes.”
“But you’re worried, you and Michael?”
There’s a faint, heartbreaking pause as Eloise Marchand deliberates. “Well, he has no real college prospects. That’s a shame, too, because the boy is bright.”
“I’m sure,” Grandma Marchand says, in a way that implies she’s not. “Lily’s got a big heart and she’s as stubborn as her father. Do you think she’ll make a stupid decision because of this boy? Stay here just to be close to him? Go to the same community college as him? If he’s captured her as thoroughly as you think…”
“She might,” Eloise says.
“And give up her spot at Yale?”
“She hasn’t gotten in yet, Evelyn.”
An elegant snort. “But she will. She is a legacy, two times over. Of course she will. And this boy… He might stand in the way.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of. Still, the decision needs to be Lily’s.”Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.
“Of course,” Grandma Marchand says. “And in making that decision, we need to make sure that she has the proper guidance.”
“I’ll talk to her.” I hear the slamming of pots, closer to where I’m pressed against the back door. “I’ll make sure she knows that no boy is worth sacrificing her future for.”
“That’s right. Least of all that rogue, too. Where did you say he came from again?”
I don’t need to hear anymore.
I wait for a few more moments, until I hear them leave the kitchen, before I slip out through the door.
The waves are soothing against the beach. A few almost make it all the way up to the stairs to the beach house. They inch closer, but I know they won’t make it. They’ve tried for years-every night at high tide-but they never make it.
The ocean is complete blackness. I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting out here. It feels like I’ve been alone with my thoughts and the ocean for an eternity.
The dinner party will be finished up by now. Michael Marchand will drive the old lady home. Lily will stand on the grand porch, the pearls she hates to wear around her neck like a noose, and wave goodbye like the good girl they want her to be. The good girl she is.
I can see her in my mind’s eye. Her hair is piled high on her head in a nod to old-fashioned customs. Her dress is perfectly ironed. All of her, one gigantic do not touch sign.
Eloise and Gran weren’t wrong. I’m beneath her, and we all know it.
And I would rather die than let her sacrifice her future just because of my lowly prospects. Her love would turn to resentment soon enough, when she’s denied the same opportunities her brothers are, because of me. Because she didn’t go to Yale. Because her boyfriend doesn’t drive a sports car. He currently doesn’t have a car at all.
It’s late when I hear the soft padding of her feet on the sand. She’s barefoot, walking from the main house. The perfect dress is hitched up to give her more legroom, and she’s released her hair. It tumbles wild and free down her shoulders, a river of auburn curls.
She’s so beautiful it hurts.
Lily takes a seat next to me on the steps. We sit in silence for a while, watching the waves as they fight against nature’s laws to make it up the beach.
I can tell that she wants me to talk. To explain myself-why I didn’t show up, despite promising to. But I can’t tell her what I overheard. The words won’t come. Not for the first time, there’s absolutely nothing I can say to make this right or to explain myself.
“Hey,” I finally murmur.
“Hiya.”
“How was dessert?”
“Disgusting. Liquor-infused cherries. You didn’t miss a thing.”
And there she goes, trying to make me feel better even though she doesn’t have a clue why I’m down. Lily’s kindness has always been one of the most amazing things about her. I’ve never understood how one person could carry so much understanding and love.
But that’s also why I need to ask her something, even if the answer will break me.
“That sounds awful.”
“It was.” She scoots closer until we’re sitting shoulder to shoulder and thigh to thigh. I can see the goose bumps on her legs.
“You’re cold, Lils.”
“I’m not.”
I shrug out of my hoodie and wrap it around her. She nestles into my side until I’m forced to wrap an arm around her shoulders. It feels better than it should.
“Lily, have you thought more about college?”
She takes my hand and puts it on her bare knee. Her soft skin is riddled with goose bumps and I rub my thumb in little circles, trying to keep her warm and failing. “A bit. I’ve been reading course catalogs this week.”
“Yale?”
“Yeah, and Princeton.” She traces one of my knuckles. “And Rexfield College. They have some interesting courses in art design.”
I feel nauseous, all of a sudden. “They do?”
Lily’s voice is soft. “Yes. And I know it’s not as prestigious as the others, but I don’t really care about all that. What’s really important is that I get a good education.”
“Your parents would hate community college.”
“Yes, well, they’d come around. I’m the last to go.” She shoots me an exasperated glance. “After all of Henry’s success, do you really think it matters what I end up doing?”
“Yes. I think it matters.”
Her green eyes soften, just slightly. “I’d be close by, you know, if you continue to work at the marina. If you apply too, we’d even be going to the same college.”