Luxe (7 page)

Bleu stood abruptly, pushing out of the chair with so much force that it fell to the floor. Everyone turned to look at her, and she rushed out of the room, embarrassed and in despair.

By the time Bleu made her way back to Noah's apartment, she had made up her mind. She was leaving town.
Fuck this cruddy-ass city,
she thought as she tore down the police tape and pushed open the door. She stopped and her heart skipped a beat when she saw the blood-stained floor where her stepfather and the man who had attacked her had fallen. The smell of death lingered in the air. She was almost afraid to walk inside. Taking a deep breath, she willed herself forward.
I can't stay here,
she thought. She would lose her life if she stayed in Flint. It was the city where the good died young, and she felt the ruthlessness firsthand. She wouldn't even stay to put her stepfather in the ground. Noah was the only person who could have talked her into remaining, and he had made it clear he wasn't interested. Bleu made her way to the bedroom and gathered her things. She didn't have much to her name. She would leave most of it behind, except for a suitcase full of clothes. Struggling and in need of rest, she managed to drag her bag out of Noah's room. He didn't want her there. He blamed her for everything that had happened, but what hurt most was that he hadn't returned her sentiments.

She had never known a pain so great. Every part of her hurt. Her heart was broken, her spirit crushed, and her body healing from a shooting that should have killed her. Bleu's pain overwhelmed her as she pulled her suitcase all the way outside. She didn't stop until she was standing in front of the bus stop. The next bus didn't come for another twenty minutes, more than enough time to change her mind, but she knew that this was it. This had been the plan all along, and when her ride finally arrived, she stepped onto the bus without looking back. She had no love for a city that had no love for her.
Los Angeles, California, here I come.

 

6

The bus ride was a blur. After countless transfers, days of traveling, and slipping in and out of consciousness from the pain pills she had taken, Bleu had finally arrived. La-la land … the place where dreams came true. This was it and as she stepped out of the Greyhound station with her bag in hand she looked around in amazement. She had done it. She was here. After years of imagining what it would be like, she was standing in the middle of the city … inhaling the smog-filled air.

Now what?
she thought. She had no plan. She had missed the first half of the first semester. She couldn't just drop into her classes. She was too far behind. She had hopped on a bus and traveled across the country with no real clue of what she would do once she arrived, but after everything that had happened to her, she had no regrets.

She looked left, then right, slightly overwhelmed by the magnitude of her new surroundings. She didn't have any money. She couldn't get a room. She would have to spend her first night on the streets.

“Hey, you need a ride?”

She looked down the block to the cabbie who was sitting on the hood of his car. A cigarette dangled between his fingers as he blew smoke into the air. Knowing that her pockets were on E, she shook her head to decline. “No, I'll walk, thanks. But can you tell me where UCLA is?”

“You're walking to UCLA? From here? At this time of night?” the cabbie asked.

Bleu nodded. She was fully aware of her peculiar destination. It was 1:00 a.m., but she just had to see it, up close and personal. She had researched it and looked at pictures a thousand times, but she wanted to plant her feet on campus. She deserved to.

“Can you just point me in the right direction?” she asked. “I don't mind walking.”

The Hispanic gentleman smashed his cigarette into the curb and then tossed the butt before ruffling his fingers through his jet-black hair. “Come on; I'm going that way anyway. I'll give you a lift,” he offered.

Bleu didn't move. She was young, but she was from the murder capital. If he thought she looked like easy bait, he was mistaken. “I'm good,” she said, declining his offer.

“Hey, it's on the house. I'm not trying to get you,” he replied. He could sense her skepticism and he held out a finger. “Hey, look at this.” He went into his glove compartment and pulled out his state license. “You're a smart cookie,” the cabbie stated. He held it out for her. “That there is my state permit. I'm licensed to drive this here piece of shit. This is a big city. You're smart to worry, but if you see one of these you're safe to get inside. Okay?”

After inspecting it thoroughly, she removed her cell phone and took a picture of the man's face.

“I'm sending your picture to my parents,” she lied. “If you kill me, at least the police will know who to look for.”

The cabbie held out his hands in amusement, then clapped them together and said, “Good idea! Now let's get you to UCLA.”

She climbed into the back of the cab and watched as the driver climbed into the front.

“I'm Eddie, by the way,” he introduced himself.

“Bleu,” she replied as she stared out of her window. The city was so alive. There were lights everywhere, and people were out walking and talking as if it were the middle of the day.

“So what's your story, Bleu? You a runaway?” Eddie asked.

She furrowed her brow but didn't answer as she continued to stare out of the window.

“No offense. I've been driving cabs for ten years. A lot of young girls with one suitcase have come out of that bus station. This city is like a magnet for girls with stars in their eyes. What do you do? Act? Sing? Or dance?”

“I'm a student. I was accepted to UCLA,” she answered somewhat boastfully. She wasn't the average birdbrain with a talent that would probably never blossom into a career. She was smart; she had aced every test she had taken since grade school. Her brains had been her ticket out, not some pipe dream.

“Oh, well, you're a little late, aren't you? Classes started a while back,” Eddie stated as he shifted his eyes from the rearview mirror to the road.

“Yeah, well, I got held up,” she responded vaguely.

She crossed her arms as they made the trek across town. When he finally pulled onto Sunset Boulevard she peered out of her window in amazement.

“This is it,” Eddie said. “That's Royce Hall.”

She sat, slightly intimidated, as she stared at the empty campus. It was massive. It appeared to be larger than her entire hometown at first glance.

“You going to get out?” Eddie asked with a chuckle.

She turned to him and said, “Thanks for the lift.”

“No problem. Good luck,” Eddie replied. “Hey, if you're ever in the mood for some good Mexican food, my wife owns a restaurant.” He handed Bleu a folded menu and gave her a wink. “It's good eating.”

She smiled and answered, “I'll have to come by then. Thank you for the free ride. Have a good night.” She stepped out of the cab, lugging her suitcase behind her, and she made her way down the red-brick path. Royce Hall was beautiful. Surrounded by a lawn the size of a football field, with a beautiful fountain, it was larger than any building she had ever seen in Flint. It had character, and she could only imagine the type of genius minds that had been lucky enough to ever grace its halls. “I made it,” she whispered. She took a deep breath and walked over to one of the large trees before setting her things down.

Even if she had the money to sleep in a five-star hotel, she would still prefer this very spot. She took a seat in the grass, leaned her back against the large tree, and looked around. She was in love. She belonged here. This massive institution with its green grass and beautiful architecture would be her new home, at least for the next four years, and it felt right. Bleu had always been a big-city girl trapped in the surroundings of her humble upbringing. UCLA. Los Angeles. This was where she belonged. As Bleu closed her eyes, she fell asleep completely comfortable under the night sky. She had no idea what this city had in store for her, however. The change of pace and scenery had seduced her upon first sight, but she had stepped into a whole new world. Wealth and status ruled this city. While she was used to dealing with hoodlums and hustlers, she had never encountered the privileged and pretentious. This was an entirely different league and she would need more than street smarts in order to play in this game.

 

7

“Hey!”

Bleu felt a nudge as someone kicked the bottom of her shoe, awakening her from her sleep. She frowned as she placed her hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun while staring up into the face of the security guard before her. “You're not supposed to be sleeping here. Unless you want to be arrested for loitering, I'd advise you to get up and get moving.”

Bleu slowly stood on her feet, grimacing slightly as she fought through the discomfort of her healing wounds. “I'm a student; relax!” she shot back as she grabbed her suitcase. The sun had barely risen above the clouds, and the sky was a shade of amber that caused her to stop and admire the view. “Sunny California” was an accurate description. It wasn't even 6:00 a.m. and already the heat was starting to settle in. The campus was practically deserted at this hour. A few lone souls wandered to prep for early classes, but nothing else moved. It was peaceful and Bleu couldn't wait to get started on this journey. Walking around campus was like being in a city within a city. It was huge … too big, in fact. She had been to a few college parties back in high school, but this campus seemed to dwarf any that she had ever stepped foot on. After an hour of walking, going to the wrong building, and asking various students for help, she finally located the admissions office. She didn't know what she would say or do, but she had to give it a shot. She was now more eager than ever. She had to attend. She didn't care if she had to make the painful trek around campus while recovering or if she had to stay up all night every night to catch up; she just wanted to be here. Besides, she had nowhere else to go. Everything took effort. Going up the steps, pulling her bag behind her … it was all a task, and by the time she stepped into the air-conditioned building she was out of sorts. Sweaty and flustered, she blew out a sharp breath as she found the office that she had been searching for.

“How can I help you?” the woman behind the counter asked.

Exhausted, Bleu set her bag at her feet and leaned into the counter. “My name is Bleu Montclair. I need to speak to my admissions counselor.” She reached into her cheap handbag and pulled out her acceptance letter. She opened it, hands shaking, as she could feel herself growing weak, her breathing labored.

“Are you all right?” the woman asked in concern.

“No, no, not really,” Bleu responded, out of breath as the pain in her chest intensified. “I was accepted here and then I got shot, so I couldn't come right away, but I'm here now. I rode a bus for hours to get here. I just want my shot. I'll do anything to start classes. I'll catch up on the work. I'll take extra classes … get a tutor … just please, I have to start.”

The blond woman was moved to tears as she came from behind her station. Desperation hung in the air like humidity, making it thick as sympathy weighed down her chest. The woman placed a hand on Bleu's back and guided her to the seating area. “Sit here, honey. I'll get one of the admissions counselors for you. I'm sure someone will be able to help you,” she said.

She hurried away and Bleu frantically rummaged through her purse until she located the medicine bottle. She was overexerting herself and she knew it, but she hadn't come this far to turn back now. She took out one of the pain pills and popped it into her mouth, swallowing it without water. She needed the ache in the middle of her chest to go away. It wasn't the physical pain that overwhelmed her. It was the mental chains that shackled her to her past, making her think that she would never make it out of the hood. She felt bound to a city that had no love for her, and if UCLA turned her away she would be stuck there forever.

“Ms. Montclair?”

Bleu looked up and into the dark eyes of a middle-aged woman with olive skin and kind eyes. Her blond hair was sparse, barely hiding her aging scalp from the world, and her clothes two sizes too big for her frail body. This old bat was the gatekeeper to higher learning, and Bleu only hoped that she would let her in. “I'm Cindy Staton. I wasn't expecting you until next semester. I was so sorry to hear about what happened to you,” she said. Her smile was polite, but confusion was revealed in her gaze. Bleu understood. She had dropped in, unexpected, injured, and asking for a chance. “Please let's go into my office so I can see how we can work this out.”

Bleu stood and followed her into a comfortable office. They sat before Ms. Staton continued. “How are you?”

“I'm alive,” Bleu replied as she lowered her head in angst. “I would really just like to start school.”

She could see the skepticism in the lady's face as she shook her head. “You've missed so much.”

“I know. I know. I'm willing to do the work to catch up. I swear I can do this. I just have nowhere else to go. I took a chance on coming out here. I can do this. I will, no matter how hard it is,” Bleu assured her.

The counselor was silent for almost a minute as Bleu sat impatiently awaiting an answer. Against Ms. Staton's better judgment, she nodded her head. “Okay. Okay. I'll admit you. Let's get you registered and then send you over to Student Housing to iron out your living arrangements.”

“Yes, yes!” Bleu exclaimed. Her smile couldn't be contained. “Thank you so much.” After so many things had gone wrong in her life, finally something was going right.

*   *   *

“Who the hell are you?”

Bleu froze when she opened the door to her dorm room and saw the group of girls sitting on both beds.