Trying to live

Chapter 17 (Edited)

I scanned the room, trying to locate the source of the commotion. My eyes fell on a table across the room where four women stood, one woman was seated, waving her hands frantically, and a man clutched his hair in distress.

Oh God. I just hoped it wasn't as bad as it looked. "Let go of my head!"

The shouts from the man and woman blended together, creating a chaotic sound. It was almost comical to see four elderly women in their seventies arguing with a couple their age. I imagined Grams was loving every moment. But where was she?

I must have been weird to think this way.

Most of the patrons were drawn to the spectacle, so I figured it was best to stay where I was, on my barstool.

Despite my best efforts to remain inconspicuous, I couldn't help but crane my neck. There was Grams! Her familiar face and hairstyle were unmistakable as she raised her fist in the air, shouting, "Attack, ladies! With full power!"

I winced as Grams and her friends literally yanked at the poor man's hair. It dawned on me, though belatedly, that this was Susan's Greg. Well, it seemed he had found a new lady love. Greg didn't look too bad for an old man, so I could see why Susan might have fallen for him.

He must have broken her heart terribly for Susan to go this far—inviting her best friends to publicly exact revenge was a clear sign of deep hurt.

I knew I shouldn't judge because I was messed up in my own way, but Susan's actions were downright crazy. Then again, many of Grams' friends shared this eccentric streak, including Grams herself.

I recalled a time when Grams and her wealthy friends spent two months riding with Harley bikers, tearing through the streets with adrenaline-pumped excitement, only for one of them to collapse due to health issues, and another to discover that her so-called "true love" wasn't a Harley driver as a clairvoyant told her. 

The whole saga had ended badly.

It warmed my heart to see their enduring friendship despite their different lives and experiences. They'd known each other since middle school, and Grams was friends with Henry and Cam's grandma until she passed away from cancer. Unlike my friendships, which often fractured, Grams' friendships were lasting and precious.

The sad reality for me was that I was well-known in Lakewood, and it seemed my reputation was set in stone. I had to graduate as quickly as possible to escape and never return. Once you're labeled, that tag never goes away. I had been branded a lot of things: a bitch, a slut, a home-wrecker, a junkie, an addict, a player, a lost cause, a bad daughter, and so much more.

Sometimes, I even believed those labels, though I had to mask my pain. I needed to protect my heart and myself; that's how I had survived for so long. I wasn't here to stay—I'd graduate and leave.

You can't break something that's already broken.

Sometimes, I wished I could be like my grandmother—strong and steadfast in her friendships. But then, seeing her and her friends pulling at that man's hair made me question that wish.

It was a shame I wasn't born in their era, or friends with them, instead of enduring school with their grandchildren—who probably attended Lakewood Prep. I was pretty sure Henrietta's and Miranda's families had grandchildren who might have been my classmates. Lakewood Prep was known for its elite crowd.

I used to believe I was destined for greater things. I dated someone of royal blood, and everyone adored me until my spectacular downfall. Now, I felt like just another piece of trash, blacklisted and stripped of my former status. This taught me two lessons: I would never send my children to Lakewood Prep, and high expectations often lead to the harshest truths.