Graceless (Grace Notes #2)

It was hard not to feel bitter as she slid the huge glass door aside to slip out into the already warm morning air and see the sparkling pool and immaculate grounds up close. Savannah had certainly spared no expense on herself, that was for sure.

The grass was soft and velvety under her bare feet and she padded past the pool and over the lawns until she found the meandering path that led through the fields. She heard a horse whinny and picked up her pace until she was leaning on her arms on the wooden fence rail, a beautiful chestnut gelding raising his head to look at her. She held out her hand and he leisurely paced toward her, his soft nose whiffling around her, clearly looking for treats.

She produced the apple she’d stolen from the kitchen on her way through, and he happily demolished it with a noisy, juicy crunch before letting her pat his warm neck and scratch his face.

“Finally making a friend, huh?”

Cassidy looked up at the wry voice and saw Lane had materialized in the sunlight. They, she told herself, scrunching her nose. They had clearly been on an early morning run, a sheen of exertion lighting up their tanned skin, their gray muscle t-shirt sticking slightly to their chest. She’d been dismissive of their identity yesterday and part of her couldn’t help but try to examine them for a definitive masculine or feminine feature that would allow her to put them in a neat box she understood. Overall, Lane seemed mostly masculine from their flat, sculpted looking chest and firm musculature, but there was femininity too, in their still slender body shape, height, and the smoothness to their features. She couldn’t help agreeing with Lane’s assessment: they didn’t really seem like a boy, nor remotely like a girl.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted, her hand still on the horse’s warm neck. “I was rude to you yesterday.” She found herself wanting to explain that she hadn’t been herself, that she wasn’t generally a rude person, that she hadn’t, and maybe still didn’t understand. But the words all stuck in her throat.

Lane drifted closer. Their eyes were a warm caramel brown, and while their features were smooth, their jaw was strong and square with the faintest hint of stubble. Cassidy could smell their light clean sweat, and to her surprise, she kind of liked it.

“You were a real dick,” they agreed lightly. “Not that it gives you the excuse, but I figure you were having a bad day?” They looked her in the eye and Cassidy turned back toward her horse buddy, who was losing interest in her affection now she no longer was producing treats.

“Not the greatest,” she mumbled, turning away from the fence. She started on the path back to the house and to her surprise, Lane fell into pace alongside her. “You’re a runner?” she asked to change the topic. She sensed Lane side-eye her, but they didn’t push.

“Kinda,” they responded. “I have all this physical energy these days, and I just gotta find ways to let it all out or I get antsy.”

“Not exactly a miserable place to run.” She gestured reluctantly at the gorgeous serene grounds.

“It’s beautiful,” Lane agreed. “Though too damn hot. Personally, I like it better when we make it to Vermont for the winter. The house there is in the woods – it’s like we’re the only people on the damn planet.”

“Savannah has more than one house like this?” Cassidy felt nauseated.

“She has like, five.” Lane laughed. “One is in Portugal for when we tour Europe, and there’s a townhouse in New York and a place in LA – in Malibu – that she bought when she met Brynn. Then there’s a stack of random apartments, mostly for her employees and entourage to stay in. She’s like, a total mogul,” they said fondly.

“God, it makes me sick,” Cassidy whispered. “Who the hell needs that many houses? What is wrong with her?”

“I mean, it’s pretty low-key honestly considering the amount of money she has.” Lane shrugged. They caught the look on Cassidy’s face. “She gives huge amounts to charity too, you know. There’s like a whole foundation that’s just devoted to giving her cash away and generating more cash for good causes.”

“I know, she’s a saint, I get it.”

“You’ve really got a bee in your bonnet about her, don’t you?” they said mildly.

“You would too, if she was your sister.”

“Because she’s rich and famous and you’re not?” Lane sounded curious.

“I’m not that petty.” She rolled her eyes. “It’s because she’s a fake. She acts like she’s this sweet angel with her concern and her charities, and her Instagram image, all pure and loving…”

“And you think she’s putting that on? Have you literally not seen her with her wife and kid?”

“Ugh.” Cassidy winced. “And of course, on top of that now she’s all cool and edgy and married to a woman. Give me a break.”

“Are you for real?” Lane stopped still. “You think she’s deciding to be queer for popularity? In Tennessee? Are you literally on drugs right now?”

“Oh, I grew up poor and rural, so I’m a crackhead now?”

“Oh, come on, Cassidy.” Lane looked actually angry. “You can’t possibly be as naïve as you’re making out to be. What are you, like eighteen, nineteen? You should know more about the world than that.”

“I’m twenty-four!” she practically shouted. “At least, I will be in August. And it’s not being naïve, it’s being realistic. She’s not a lesbian, she’s bisexual,” she pointed out. “She could have picked being with a man and she didn’t. It’s super convenient, don’t you think, that just after she abandoned country music for the mainstream, she started living this totally woke life?”

The look Lane gave her made her stomach clench. For a minute, it looked like they were about to storm off without a word, but they took a deep breath in and let it out in a steady stream.

“You know what I hope for you?” Their voice was low and their eyes steady. “I hope you find a way to open your eyes. I hope you decide to learn something for your damn self, instead of swallowing that poisonous garbage for the rest of your life. And I hope you get to know your sister. Because you are missing out.”

Lane walked away.