Fade to White by Tara K Ross

Author:Tara K Ross [Ross, Tara K]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781645262633
Publisher: Illuminate YA
Published: 2020-05-29T22:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

After a brief pep talk, Jade holds open the door for us and we enter an already crowded café. The collection of reupholstered velvet couches and mismatched wooden chairs has been organized into a semicircle facing a makeshift stage. The Ridgefield unofficial indie rock club already fills most of the seats. Three stools stand in the center, strategically lit by work lamps that could have been taken from Dad’s auto-repair man cave. But the vibrant artwork that adorns the wall behind the stools changes the setting from dank garage to artsy lounge. Ashley spots two empty stools at the back of the café near the bookshelf-supported barista counter and directs us over.

“You guys sit, I’ll grab the bevies.” Jade glances over at Ashley. “Should I make it three or four?”

“Three is good. Ethan will be late. If he shows.”

I stop in my tracks. “If he shows?” Please tell me they did not get into a fight tonight of all nights. I know it’s selfish, but I’m already stressing about Jade’s problems on top of my own. I can’t handle Ashley’s drama too.

She exhales, as though testing her mouthwash on me. “Don’t freak out, Thea. He’s just pouting because his new band didn’t get a set ready in time. I’ll tell him to suck it up for you.”

“Great. A pity friend,” I say.

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jade steps between us and surveys the chalkboard menu. “How does mint hot chocolate sound, ladies?”

Nothing like the offer of a hot beverage to soften a cold front. We both nod in approval. I square my shoulders. Easy, Thea. Stop searching for problems.

Ashley places her dainty Guess purse on one of the open stools. “I’ll try to find an extra seat.” She saunters off toward the most congested area of the café with little difficulty, navigating the crowd that seems to part for her on cue.

While loosening my scarf, I scan the café, striving to appear casual. No sign of Gavin yet. The unzipping of my jacket does not cause sudden shock, so I brave full exposure by slouching out of my bomber, one arm at a time. The familiar faces from school take no notice of my increased bust size and entry into the world of modern makeup. I drape my scarf and jacket over the counter. From the jammed stacks of books under the counter, I dislodge the top book—a tattered copy of Little Women. I leaf through the pages and imagine myself as Jo March. You can do this, Thea. You are a vivacious, confident young woman.

Wait. Did I not spend the last twenty-four hours allowing my friends to alter my appearance to fulfill my girlish fantasy? Wouldn’t that make me a Meg? Do I want to be a Meg? Or am I more like an Amy? I haven’t figured out how to weather any storms yet, so that doesn’t work either.

The crowd thickens, as does my need for a firm shoulder massage. Stop stressing over your fictional character traits. Be casual.

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