Free Fall From Grace by Kelly Hogan

as she crosses her arms in a stronghold stance.
    Is there a hole I can crawl into and die? Francine is fuming, but I can tell she's enjoying my public humiliation. Perhaps this will be enough penance for me. I glance over at Ash who's smiling and equally loving this. Perhaps he thinks a good old-fashioned cat-fight will erupt. What is it with guys watching chicks pull each other's hair while we flail around on the ground? Scratch that, I know exactly why they love it.
    "Well, let's see. She does seem pretty genuine about it. Stella is it? Maybe you could forgive and forget? Or maybe you could convince her that the only way to make it up to you would be to join the musician for an impromptu duet? You can sing right?" He folds his arms to match her and leans back on the counter with a huge cocky grin.
    Asshole. They are perfect for each other. I'm too tired for this.  
    "Look Fran, I really am sorry. You don't have to forgive me, but I just wanted to tell you that," I say, wheeling around in a huff and running smack dab into Gabs' mom.
    "Oh sorry Mrs. Castillo. I didn't see you there."
    "Stella dear! I see you have made the acquaintance of my newest discovery!" She turns me back around to face the crap heads.
    I look back at her clearly confused. Don't know, don't care; I'm desperate for an exit strategy but you don't mess with Mrs. C when she has her iron grasp on you. I learned that lesson the hard way when last summer, Gabs and I decided to 'borrow' the family vehicle to make a midnight run to Burger King. We never bothered to pause and realize that her parents would most certainly hear the garage door opening as their bedroom is directly above it. When we returned, Mrs. C was standing in the garage waiting for us. I don't think terrifying fully explained her facial expression.
    Technically Gabby only had a learners permit, but she was a really good driver and she was taking the test in like two days so it was pretty much legal. Her mom didn't quite get our logic. She told me to wait in the kitchen while she had a talk with Gabby. Instead I wandered into the TV room to watch a Jersey Shore re-run - big mistake. Let me just say that I love Mrs. Castillo, but that night she put the fear of God in me and I remain terrified of pissing her off again. I stay firmly planted beside her.
    "Mr. Grey here has graciously offered to let me display some of his beautiful photography pieces this month. He's an amazing young photographer, just landed here from New York City." She is grinning like a school girl.  
    I turn to my left to scan the walls, which I normally do each time I come in, but tonight I was distracted. The one wall she's referring to had seven framed black and white prints lined up in a straight row. She ushered us over for a better look and they literally took my breath away.
    The first I see is of a homeless woman huddled under a mountain of coats pushing a fully loaded shopping cart. There isn't anything unusual about this shot on first glance but when I look a little closer I can see that it's the smallest of details that make the piece so intriguing. Her gnarled fingers gripping the cart. Her sad eyes that tell a story of pain, suffering and eventual madness. Her swollen feet, blistered and twisted with the pressure of constant movement, a lifetime spent patrolling the street. My God, the things she's had to endure in those shoes. I can't tear my eyes away.  
    "The detail is breathtaking," I say, transfixed by the print.
    "I knew you would love this exhibit sweetie," she whispers in my ear, briefly hugging my shoulders and turns back to engage Ash. "Stella is an artist herself, studying graphics this fall. Our little girl is moving to the big city (sigh), they grow up so fast. Perhaps you have some great survival tips for our little beauty. Watch it though Stells, this one is quite the charmer." She leans back to me with a conspiratorial wink. She's so animated when she talks about my creative side. We share a strong