The Color Of Grace Read Online Free Page B

American
Graffiti —”
    “ Superbad ,” I
suggested helpfully.
    Someone—I couldn’t tell if it was Adam or Schy—kicked me
under the table. “Don’t egg her on,” Schy muttered out the side of her mouth.
    But Bridget was already pointing at me and nodding. “ Superbad ,” she agreed. “Though that
movie focuses more on Seth and Evan’s friendship…and trying to get beer.”
Pausing, she looked thoughtful for a moment, tilting her head ever so slightly
to the left. “You know, underage drinking is also prevalent in most of the
movies I named.” She gasped. “Maybe there’s something to that.”
    Schy slapped her hand to her forehead. “Dear Lord, save us.”
    “Except that would be a good topic for another research
paper. So, I won’t go there just yet.”
    “Thank you,” Schy whispered, lifting her appreciative gaze
toward Heaven.
    I grinned and sat back in the booth, watching my three
friends. Adam kept his head lowered, coloring furiously with the crayons the
waitress had provided, acting as if he couldn’t hear a word of the discussion.
And Schy groaned as Bridget raged on about premarital, teenage relationships.
    Struck with just how much I was going to miss this, I
sniffed, refusing to cry, but moisture gathered in my tear ducts anyway,
threatening to spill over. I quickly sat forward and took another slug of Dr.
Pepper. That way, if my eyes watered, I could blame it on the strong
carbonation in my drink and not weepy, pitiful tears.
    “It’s not fair society puts this kind of pressure and stigma
on us youth.” Bridget was still on a roll. “We always have to have our slumber
parties at Schy and Adam’s place because there’s no way our parents would let
Adam stay over, not even in a separate room.”
    Adam shifted in his seat and made a pained face. “You know,
I’m not sure I’m very comfortable with this conversation.”
    “And it’s all because of sex,” Bridget said, not even hearing
him. “If movie makers didn’t sensationalize the topic so much, it probably
wouldn’t be that big of a deal.”
    “It’s not just movie makers,” I said. “TV shows and commercials
do it too. Books, magazines—”
    “Grace! What are you doing?” Schy asked from between gritted
teeth. “Stop encouraging her.”
    “Oh, hey, look.” Adam brightened and sat up as a server
approached with four steaming plates. “Our food’s here.” He grinned at us
girls, looking all too pleased something had arrived to divert our attention from
the subject at hand.
    I threw back my head and laughed. It was either that or
bawl. But honestly, how could I move away and miss this? This was my group. My
people. I didn’t want to leave them.
    Adam, Bridget and Schy stared at me as if I’d lost my mind. I
think I had too. The nerd herd was my sanity, my life support. What was I going
to be without them? How was I going to survive?
    “I’m going to miss you guys so much,” I said, wishing the
words back as soon as they passed my voice box.
    Bridget’s face crinkled with misery. Adam’s shoulders deflated
and his features fell. Schy reached out to cover my hand.
    I opened my mouth to apologize. This was supposed to be a
happy, memory-making night full of fun and laughter.
    A party.
    Not a funeral.
    “Who had the barbecue wings and fries?” the server asked,
fortunately diverting another touchy topic. She flipped out a stand and set
down the large, round serving tray to form a makeshift table. Then she passed
the plate of wings to Bridget when she lifted her hand.
    Methodically, the server distributed our orders and then
scooped up the empty tray and stand before she whisked them both away after
asking if we needed anything else. All too soon, she was gone, leaving only silence
in her wake.
    I stared down at my potato skins and quesadillas, too
chicken to risk a glance at my friends. Upset at myself for disturbing the
light mood we’d had going before I had opened my big mouth, I lifted my fork
and