Raw Deal (Beauty for Ashes: Book One) (30 page)

I didn’t have a date, so I danced with Lewis, which didn’t go down too well with his cheerleader date, who said nothing but gave me daggers all night.

As I was leaving, Jace appeared beside me and followed me outside to my car. He asked for my yearbook and signed it. I signed his.

“Where are you going for college?” he asked.

“I’m staying in LA.” I didn’t want to be too far away from my mom. We both needed each other, even though we couldn’t stand each other right now.

“What are you majoring in?”

I was planning to do journalism in England, but UCLA didn’t offer it. “Communication studies.”

“I’m going to New York,” Jace said.

That was where Monica was going. I could see how things were going to pan out. In ten years’ time, at our high school reunion, they would show up hand in hand, flaunting a sprog or two—mini Maces and Jonicas. I smiled at my private joke, and Jace gave me a funny look. “Wow, New York,” I said.

“Yeah, Tanya, Matt, Michelle, and Monica are coming, too. It’s this program where you can transfer back after the second year. It’ll be cool. I wish you were coming.”

Well, maybe I would have, if I’d known about the program. No one ever told me anything! LA was second rate with regards to launching a big time modeling career. I needed to be in a fashion capital; somewhere like New York.

I looked at Jace like New York was the last place I wanted to be. “No, I need you guys out of my life.”

Jace looked like I had slapped him. I hadn’t really meant for it to come out like that, but whatever. I didn’t care. Maybe subconsciously I had wanted to hurt him. I was tired of it being the other way round. I snatched my yearbook from him and got into my car. When I got home, I read the note he’d scribbled inside:
I’ll never forget you, and I’ll probably never get over you. If you ever get saved, call me
.

I smiled in spite of myself.

Chapter 39

I stared at the huge black and white poster of Shola Cardoso that dominated my college dorm room. It was there to give me inspiration and ensure that I never lost focus. One day, I was going to dominate runways in the fashion capitals, and I was going to be a cover model for the big magazines, and nothing was going to stop me. Not my height, not my being black, not even the confused men who thought they were women that constantly slammed doors in my face and said ‘we’ve already booked the models we want for this show.’

I’d seen more than my fair share of that kind of man. All summer they’d torn my image to pieces and rejected me. I’d been to twelve ‘go sees,’ even one on my birthday, but had gotten only two jobs all summer. It was pathetic.

Looking on the bright side, though, Vinnie Hoffman had contacted my agency to book me for LA fashion week in October. And Sheena had secured another fashion week booking: Nia Golden Couture.

I fingered a couple strands of my dark hair as I lay there, staring at Shola. I’d had the blond stripped out at Neil George, and this new espresso color had been rinsed in.

What exactly was it going to take to break into this industry properly? I was putting everything into it, and it still wasn’t working.

I reached for my purse under my bed and took my cell phone out. I was supposed to be hitting some party with Carl tonight, but I didn’t really want to go. I was back to what Monica would call reclusion. Carl and I had been on a few dates over the summer. Maybe it was the fact that Jace was now completely out of the picture, or the fact that he’d encouraged me in my quest for modeling work all summer; whatever it was, the guy was growing on me. He’d asked me to be his girlfriend again when I arrived at college last week.

I sat up as I texted Carl a ‘sorry, I can’t come tonight’ message. He wouldn’t be too devastated. He was used to me canceling on him last minute.

My phone vibrated almost immediately, delivering Carl’s ‘it’s okay, I’ll check on you in the morning’ message. Such understanding.

I got up and made my way to the communal kitchen down the corridor from my room. The building was always quiet on the weekends. Tonight everyone was probably at the party I’d just backed out of. It’d been the talk of the campus since I arrived.

The kitchen and adjourning living room were empty. I switched on the living room TV, and it was already on a music channel. I hummed along to a club dance song as I returned to the kitchen and opened the fridge. The first thing that caught my eye was my near empty container of milk. I couldn’t believe it! Who was drinking my milk all the time? I had even labeled it so that everyone knew it was mine. What was wrong with these people?

I almost groaned when I heard the living room door open. Someone else was in. Why?

I turned to see who was staying home from the party to ruin my night. It was the cute dark-haired white guy that lived three doors to my left. I gave him a quick smile and turned back to the fridge.

“Hey,” Mr. Cute Guy said. He entered the kitchen. “What are you doing home on a Friday night? Hot chick like you?”

I shut the fridge. “Just felt like staying home.”

The guy leaned against a countertop. “Aren’t you going to ask why I’m not out either? Geez, you make great conversation.”

I complied. “Why aren’t you out?”

“Because I got alcohol poisoning during Fresher’s week and that totally turned me off. I haven’t been out since.”

I screwed up my nose. “Too bad.”

“Well, I’m glad I’ve got company today. Staying home when everyone else is out gets pretty lonely. I usually just come in here and cook.”

“Can you cook?”

“Yah, man, I’m good.”

I grinned. “Let me be the judge of that.” I took a pan out of a cupboard and held it out to him.

“Are you sure? Coz once girls taste my food, they can’t resist me anymore.” He took the pan from me. “I assume you’re Lexi, the one whose name is on all the food in the fridge?”

“Yeah, what’s your name?”

He offered his hand. “Dan Black. Nice to finally talk to you—after only ever seeing you stepping out of the elevator and going straight to your room like everyone around you ain’t worth it.”

This was great! First the cute Jace in high school, now here was a cute Dan living three doors from me. I was sure it was some kind of test from on high. I had failed miserably with Jace. I’d let him walk all over my heart. I was going to pass with Dan. I shook his hand. When he didn’t let go, I gave him a slight frown.

“You have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“No, I don’t, but thanks anyway.” I knew that Dan knew I had a boyfriend. He let go of my hand, and I hauled myself up onto the countertop to watch him cook. “So does everyone think I’m a snob?”

“Yeah.” Dan placed the pan on the electric cooker and took an onion from a rack of vegetables.

“I’m not. I’m just not good with meeting new people,” I confessed. I really needed to grow out of it.

“Well, now that you’ve explained that to me, I can tell them for you.”

“Thanks.” I watched Dan while he worked. He had a tall muscular frame, and even with a shirt on, I could see his biceps. I averted my eyes when he looked over at me.

“What are you staring at?”

“I have a boyfriend,” I informed him primly, even as my face grew hot.

“Yeah, that blond dude, I know. Believe me, that won’t stop me from hitting on you.” He got back to work gathering a couple more vegetables, some cooking oil, a packet of rice, and a couple bottles of seasoning.

“So you’re like that?”

“Yes, I am. Your blond dude said hi to me the other day when he came to pick you up. He won’t be saying hi for long.”

“Whatever,” I laughed. He started chopping the vegetables. “What are you cooking?”

“Chicken stir fry with rice. You’re gonna fall in love with me when you taste it. It’s like love potion.”

“Well, shouldn’t you be boiling the rice so that it’s ready by the time the stir fry is ready?”

“Hey, I’ll do it my way.”

“It’ll be quicker.”

“I said I’ll do it my way.”

I tutted. “Men. No multitasking skills!”

“Shh,” Dan instructed. “Silence while the chef is at work.”

I rolled my eyes and hopped off the counter. “Let me help, pass me that pepper.” I took a knife out of the drawer and started chopping.

Dan watched me. “You’re chopping wrong.”

“I’m chopping wrong?”

“Yeah, you need to chop like you have respect for the ingredients.”

I put the knife down and rolled my eyes. “Let me know when it’s ready,” I said walking over to the living room. I was starving, but the way Dan was going, we weren’t going to eat for at least another hour. I made myself comfortable on the sofa and watched an endless stream of music videos.

When Dan finished, I let him serve me a sizeable helping of his chicken stir fry with rice. He went to his room and returned with two soda bottles.

“I keep them in my room or people think they can help themselves,” he explained setting one on the coffee table in front of me.

“Isn’t that so annoying? Someone keeps drinking my milk.”

“Really? Is yours the milk that says ‘Lexi’ on it?”

“Well, hello.”

“Oh, right. We thought it was milk
provided
by Lexi. We didn’t know it meant only Lexi can drink it.”

“So you’ve all been drinking it together?”

“Yeah,” Dan said without remorse. “When you ignore everyone, they drink your milk. When you keep ignoring them and start labeling your milk, they drink it even more.”

I gave him a dirty look. “I think I’ll get a fridge for my room then.”

He sat down next to me on the worn sofa. “How’s the rice?”

“It’s nice, better than I expected.”

“Just nice?”

“Okay, it’s really nice.”

“Of course it is.” Dan put an arm around my shoulders. “Aren’t I just the whole package? Tall, dark, handsome,
and
can cook.”

“Enough, Dan.” I removed his arm from my shoulders. He was hot, but he was so aware of his own hotness and that just wasn’t right.

He focused flirtatious dark eyes on me. “Does blondie cook for you?”

“You mean Carl? No, he just takes me out to really expensive restaurants where they serve gourmet food and delicious deserts. Bummer!”

Dan grinned, not at all put out. “Where’s that accent from? I love it.”

I still couldn’t believe people thought I had an accent. “I lived in England for a couple years.” I changed the subject before Dan started asking ‘why’ ‘what’ ‘how’ questions. “So what else can you cook?”

“Do I need to be able to cook anything else when I can cook this?”

“So, in other words you can’t cook anything else.”

“I can do beef stir fry, veg stir fry, lamb stir fry and prawn stir fry—basically, the whole stir fry family.”

“You can only cook stir fry.” I swigged my soda.

“At least I can cook something. What can Carl cook?”

“You keep talking about my boyfriend, Dan. What’s up with that?”

“I don’t swing that way,” Dan informed me dryly.

I finished the last bit of Dan’s spicy stir fry and set the plastic dish on the coffee table. When Dan finished, I took the dirty dishes to the kitchen and washed up while Dan went to get a DVD from his room. I joined him on the couch when I finished, and he put his arms around me. He was so over familiar it was ludicrous, but I didn’t swat him away. There was only so hard a girl could fight. His chin rested on my head, and I snuggled up to him, feeling slightly guilty.

“What if Carl walks in now?” Dan asked.

“You’ll get beat up.”

I tried to focus on the movie, but I fell asleep halfway through. It was a mindless, action packed, guy kind of movie and the part of it that I saw bored me to tears.

When I woke up, I realized I was in mid air. “What are you doing?” I asked Dan groggily.

His blurry face smiled. “Carrying you to your room. Do you know that you snore?”

I was wide awake in an instant. “I don’t!”

Dan laughed. “Just kidding.” He kicked open my room door and laid me on my bed. “I’ll let you choose the movie next time.” He walked back to the door and held a hand over the light switch. “On or off?”

“Off.”

He clicked the switch. “Sleep tight, Dream of me.”

***

Well, the semester started, and I received my timetable in my college email inbox. I was pleased to discover that I didn’t have any classes on Tuesdays and Fridays. On Monday morning, I packed my purse with a notebook, a couple pens, highlighters, and my iPod (just in case it got boring) and trudged across campus to the Faculty of Social Science. As I went, I recognized a few people from high school, but I hadn’t spoken to them then, so I couldn’t really speak to them now.

Anyway, my first class was horrible. I got to the enormous lecture room, and it was jam packed to maximum capacity, and it looked like everyone had already formed their cliques. I sat near the front, wondering how everyone already knew each other. Maybe I should have gone to more parties over the last few days.