Page 38 of Cruel Legacy

“I’m sorry,” I say to the woman, decorating a chalkboard behind me. “I didn’t realize I was blocking the entrance.” I’m standing in front of a restaurant and there’s a hotel right next door. There’s a whole stretch of businesses on this cute little boardwalk, going as far down as I can see. I think I just found my new favorite place. Turning back to the woman, I ask, “Are you open?”

“Oh, yes! It’s a little bit of a lull between the breakfast and lunch crowd, so it’s mainly staff from here and the hotel next door eating, but it’s gonna pick up soon. Come on in.”

I follow her inside, taking in the sea scape decor, and salty breeze coming from the open windows. She settles me at a table where I still have a great view of the beach. As soon as she walks off, I pull out my phone to take a picture and send it to Sasha. She’s gonna flip. We’ve always talked about going on vacation together some place where we can see a view like this.

“Here’s a menu, hun.”

“Thank you,” I say, taking it from her hands and scanning the offered items.

“We’re setting up for lunch, but you can still order off the breakfast menu if you’d like.”

I’d been walking around for a while, and now that I’m sitting, I realize I’m famished. Everything sounds good and I’m having a hard time deciding.

“You wanna hear the specials?”

“Sure.” Maybe hearing them will make it easier for me to choose.

“For breakfast, we can whip up a short stack smothered in chocolate syrup, strawberries and whipped cream, with a side of eggs to order, bacon and biscuits. If you want lunch, today’s special is a turkey club and sweet potato fries, with a slice of our famous peach cobbler.”

“Everything sounds good. I think I’ll go with the turkey club, and can I get a lobster bisque soup, please?”

“Absolutely, that lobster bisque is my favorite. And how about I bring you the strawberries with chocolate syrup too, but I’ll hold the pancakes?”

That sounds rich and decadent and perfect. I agree with her suggestion. A part of me really wanted those strawberries drizzled in syrup.

“Alright hun, my name’s Mel. You just yell for me if you need anything.”

She looks older than my Aunt Moira, but her sun kissed hair swings from a ponytail at the crown of her head, like it belongs to a perky cheerleader. I’m used to the waitresses in Nags Creek having attitude problems because they work long shifts for no money, and get stiffed on tips.

Mel seems genuinely happy. I guess I would be too, with this view.The door opens and a few more people come in. A girl with a maid’s uniform, and an older couple.

Mel waves at them, and I watch as they seat themselves, with the older woman facing me. She’s got salt and pepper hair and a kind face. Her companion says something, and she throws her head back and laughs. It’s a loud, heavy, happy sound.

Her laughter dies off, and she catches me staring at her.Shit.For the most part, I mind my own business, but when I see older women, I always try to figure out what their story is, and if they’ve had a good life.

I have no clue why I’m compelled to do it. Maybe it’s because my only experience with women over the age of twenty-five is my mother, Mrs. Sprout, and the people in charge of the foster homes and group homes I’ve lived in.

Goodis not how I would describe the lives they were living. Carefree laughter and fun were often missing. Living in Nags Creek was hard and stressful for a lot of people. I duck my head, and when I pick it up again, the woman is looking at me.

She offers a small smile before turning her attention back to her friend, and I go back to staring at the beach and its inhabitants until Mel comes over with my food.

I abandon my people watching in favor of stuffing my face. I pay for my food and leave Mel a generous tip before heading out to explore the rest of the boardwalk. I grab some saltwater taffy and a gelato, then find a spot on the beach where I can dip my toes in the water.

After I’ve rested with my toes getting wet long enough to prune, I crawl under the boardwalk to get out of the sun. Before I know it, I’m reclining back, listening to the crashing of the waves, then laying down on the warm sand, and finally I drift off to sleep.

Chapter21

Thea

Ipull the mail out of my box and unfold the paper that was sticking out of the side. It’s a flyer, reminding students of the rules and responsibilities for Mayhem Night. I show it to LJ. “What’s this Mayhem deal?”

She looks at the flyer, then pulls me towards the elevators. “So you know, how I told you last week was the start of pledge season?”

“Sure.”

“Well, this… Mayhem Night is like the final bash.”

“So, it’s another party.”

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