Looking Through the Cracks

Chapter 7: Surviving vs. Thriving

"Now I should warn you about my house before we get there," B said as he turned into his driveway.

"Warn me? Why? Is your house like a super-sensitive bomb or something? Don't be ridic--" Ivy stopped mid-sentence. When B turned to look at her, he could see her jaw hanging agape. Straight ahead a large white house rose from the ground. It reached the height of some of the tallest trees around the house. In front of it stood a large fountain shaped like the goddess of love, with water pouring from her mouth into her outstretched hands. Circling the facade of the building was a large veranda with a collection of wicker patio chairs surrounding a matching table. All along the railings were a variety of flower beds, all varying in color. As the car pulled closer to the house, Ivy noticed that there were at least four floors to the house, each surrounded by several large windows.

B sighed, "I warned you."

"But, but, I didn't think you were warning me about this! I thought you were going to say the house was a mess or something. Not that you live in a fricken mansion! God, B! You're rich!"

"It's really not that big of a deal, Ivy." B brought the car to a stop and parked it in front of the main entrance of the house. Ivy was still staring with her mouth wide open when B came around to open her door. "You're starting to catch flies."

Ivy slammed her mouth shut, a little embarrassed to be caught gawking. B was kicking at the perfectly paved driveway, avoiding eye contact with Ivy. "Why, if you're rich, do you keep it a secret?"

"I'm not the rich one. My parents are. I just live here." B was still avoiding looking at Ivy.

"Does anyone at school know?"

"You tell me."

"B, we go to a school with less than 500 kids. I think if someone knew, you'd have heard by now." Ivy involuntarily rolled her eyes. She was all too familiar with how quickly one's private life could become the front page of small-town gossip.

With an audible sigh, B's body seemed to relax, bringing to Ivy's attention how tense he had been as he waited for her response. It was quickly becoming clear to her that B was genuinely concerned about people learning the truth. Ivy could empathize with that. Although news of her dad's divorce had run rampant about town the minute she packed her bags, Ivy understood the need to hide one's home life from the world.

Moved by her new understanding of B, Ivy brought her hand to his bicep and lightly caressed it. "You don't have to worry, B," she soothed. "You're secret is safe with me."

B's shoulders were hunched over, his black curls hanging haphazardly across his face. Peering through his curls like they were a sort of shield, B's eyes widened with surprise. "Really?" he asked.

"After what you saw today with..." Ivy hesitated to speak it allowed. "You know a secret of mine, and now I know one of yours." Quickly she reached her hand out to B. "If you don't tell, I won't tell. Deal?"

Any remaining worry in B's posture left his body the moment he shook Ivy's hand. "Deal." Looking from their joined hands to B's face, Ivy couldn't help but notice the wide grin splayed across B's face. Unlike all the smirks she received from him today, which seemed to be hiding some joke from her, the smile she saw now lacked all of that. Instead, he had a glee to his face that Ivy could only compare to a toddler making his first friend.

Before Ivy could ruin the moment with a snarky comment, she heard a feminine voice shout from behind her "Braxton Charles Witherby! Where. Have. You. Been?!" Turning around Ivy saw a petite woman with a blonde pixie cut standing at the top of the veranda stairs, her arms crossed.

Letting go of her hand like it had spontaneously turned into a hot pan, B strode towards the woman a hugged her, "Hi, Mom." He gave her a light peck on the cheek before releasing her from his arms. Apparently, this was a normal interaction between the two, which after the day Ivy spent with B, she wasn't too surprised. How many times had she yelled at him today?