Witness: A Bad-Boy Romance

Grapefruit

My first night in the new apartment was plagued by nightmares of what had happened to my family. I lost count of the times I woke up in the end.

I was exhausted in the morning, but Brooke was as chipper as she had been the night before.

She apologized for the lack of food for breakfast and suggested I get dressed so we could explore the new neighborhood and pick up some food.

The remains of our meal from the night before were still on the kitchen counter and I agreed enthusiastically to her suggestion - it was better to force myself out of the house than to risk eating another meal as bad as that any time soon.

I locked myself in the bathroom and stood with my back pressed firmly against the door. It took me a few minutes to summon the courage to even approach the mirror.

I was a curious mix of Heather and Victoria in the mornings. My hair was chestnut-brown, but until I styled it the way I had been shown it was as straight as it always had been. Until I put in the colored prescription lenses which hid my original eye color, I was looking through Heather’s stormy-gray eyes.

When I finally emerged from the bathroom I was ready for whatever Brooke had planned for us.

She was sat waiting for me in the living room, reading a book which she snapped closed when she noticed me approaching.

“Ready, kiddo?”

That was the second time she had called me kiddo. I had never had an affectionate nickname like that before, but this one felt forced and I wasn’t sure I liked it.

I smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

“I can’t wait.”

I had no idea where we were going, and I didn’t really want to go anywhere, but I followed Brooke from the safety of the apartment and down to a beaten-up old car she revealed was hers.

San Jose felt so different from Boston. It was so fresh and young rather than being steeped in history. There were brightly colored murals on the walls, and trendy vintage clothing stores and independent coffee shops lined the streets.

Brooke seemed at home amongst the crowds of cool young people, but for me it was terrifying.

I stuck silently at Brooke’s side as she dragged me into one of the small independent clothing shops and flipped through a rail of faded old T-shirts with 90’s television characters and pop musicians emblazoned on them. She pulled one out and held it up to me as if she was my own personal stylist.

“Oh, this is cute. Don’t you think so? You’d look great in it.”

I shrugged. I had no idea who the smiling young woman with bleached blonde hair and crystal blue eyes staring back from the front of the shirt even was, it felt silly to consider wearing her dated merchandise like I was one of the trendy hipster teenagers I was surrounded by here.

Brooke looked at the price tag, and then quickly replaced the shirt onto the rail it had been plucked from.

Sixty-five dollars!

She mouthed the words almost silently to me in wide-eyed shock.

I was as surprised as she was, but the store was thriving and nobody else seemed to think twice about paying so much for a faded shirt that was ten years older than me.

“Alright kiddo, time to find somewhere to grab breakfast. I’m wicked hungry right now.”

I cringed and blushed scarlet as I noticed the two young shop assistants giggling. I didn’t know if Brooke’s thick Boston accent was amusing to them, or the fact she had called me kiddo. It didn’t really matter, the outcome was the same; they were laughing at us, and I felt like we stood out.

Brooke either didn’t notice or didn’t care, and she strode confidently from the shop in search of somewhere we could eat.

The shops and restaurants all looked intimidating to me, now. I just wanted to go back home before anybody else laughed at us.

Thankfully, everything in this part of trendy downtown San Jose was expensive. After the prices in the third trendy smoothie bar were too high for our limited budget, Brooke accepted defeat and decided that making our own smoothies at home would be more fun anyway.

I trailed around after her in the store as she filled the basket with student-friendly items like huge bags of dry pasta and rice.

I picked up a Ruby-Red grapefruit, turning it over in my hands and searching for the information about it on the stand.

“Chuck it in the cart if you want it. Might not go so well in smoothies, though.”

“Thanks,” I smiled as I continued looking for the information I wanted.

“It’s a grapefruit.”

“I know. I’m just trying to see whether it’s organic or not.”

Brooke laughed, took the grapefruit from me, and tossed it gently into the cart.

“Oh, kiddo…”

She shook her head, still smiling at my comment.

When we got home I sat quietly at the table and ate my grapefruit as Brooke ate her own breakfast opposite me.  She had given up on making smoothies and had some brightly colored sugary cereal instead.

I think she had expected our trip to town to be more exciting, and a chance to bond, but it had left me feeling unsure of myself and afraid of starting at a new school tomorrow.

“Good grapefruit?”

I nodded politely at the question.

“It’s nice.”

“Sorry that it’s not organic.”

I shrugged and looked back down at the dish.

That was such a stupid thing to apologize for.

I don’t think it was really about that, though. She couldn’t say it so plainly, but I think Brooke felt bad about the fact Heather was the kind of girl who automatically looked to see whether her food was organic, when Victoria was the kind of girl who couldn’t afford to care about that.

These were the kind of tiny details nobody could have prepared me for, and I had a feeling that my first day of school was going to be filled with them.