by Amy Sparling
We’re doing our dance now.
Throwing off all my reservations, I run toward the gym floor. Asha is wearing all black, standing in the place that’s reserved for me.
“I’ve got this,” I say, startling her. Her eyes rake up and down my body, taking in the sight of my formal wear. She bursts into a grateful grin and I wink at her before turning toward the first girl in line.
I loop my arm through hers and walk-slash-dance her across the floor. Asha was right—the part she choreographed for me isn’t hard at all. I try to get lost in the music the way Asha always tells her students to do, and I dance to the beat, doing the best version of my part as I can. I don’t know if it’s any good, but I’m here, and that’s what counts.
I forget all about the crowd of my peers in the stands, until the song ends and they erupt into cheers. The girls in my class line up and take a bow, and I do the same thing.
“Let’s give it up for Officer Asha Bronte’s class!” Mrs. Johnson says into the microphone as she stands off to the side. I am panting as I stand here, taking in the applause. I don’t see any guys laughing at me from the stands, but honestly, I don’t care. Let them make fun of me. I just saved Asha’s grade, and that’s all that counts. The drill team is up next, and we all rush off the gym floor, back to where the other classes were waiting.
At the back of the gym, under the dim lighting beneath the bleachers, I look around for Asha. A few girls in my class give me a high five and tell me I did great, but their compliments mean nothing. I need to hear what my dream girl thinks.
I look around, but I can’t find her. Then, someone taps me on the shoulder. I turn around and see her watching me with just the hint of a grin on her face. “I thought you weren’t coming,” she says.
“I thought I wasn’t, either,” I admit.
She’s wearing a shimmery eyeshadow that makes her glow like an angel. “What made you change your mind?”
I reach out and take both of her hands into mine. “You’re an amazing dance Officer, and you deserve to have your dance performed the way you wrote it.”
“Is that the real reason?” she asks, peering up at me. “Or are you just trying to win me over?”
“Can it be both?” I ask, squeezing her hands.
Her hands slip from mine, and I’m totally heartbroken for about two seconds, until she wraps her arms around my neck. “Yes it can,” she whispers into my ear as she stands on her toes.
I grab her waist and pull her toward me. I don’t know who leans in first for the kiss, or maybe we both do, but soon our lips are together and her sweet sugary mouth tastes so good on mine. I hold her tightly, wishing I could pull her away to somewhere private, but happy to have whatever I can get.
We kiss for what feels like forever, and yet barely any time at all. Then she’s pulling away, dropping back to her feet, and loosening her grip on my neck. “We probably shouldn’t do this at school…” she says, her lips pink and slightly swollen as she nervously glances around.
“My Jeep is parked right outside,” I say, wiggling my eyebrows so she knows I’m only half serious.
Her grin lights up my whole world. “Okay,” she says, taking my hand. “Let’s go.”
♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥♥ ♥ ♥
For Just One Day
Chapter 1
Emma
Mom glances back at me in the back seat of her SUV, her eyes locking onto mine. “Just act normal.”
I’m about to ask why that sentence is even necessary, because technically I’m already acting normal. I’m just sitting here, my phone in my lap, while we drive across town to an apartment complex near the local state college to pick up my mom’s new boyfriend that she conveniently met just two days after the divorce with my dad was final.
What could possibly be abnormal about that?
But then I see him—or at least I think it’s him—because he’s jogging toward the car and Mom sits a little straighter, and she’s smiling so big it can’t possibly be good for her health. Now it all makes sense, the whole “act normal” thing.
This guy is young.
With a chiseled jaw and boyish grin and dark blue eyes, he looks like someone I should be dating. Okay, maybe not me because guys tend to see right through me as if I don’t exist, but he looks like someone who should date someone my age.
He opens the passenger door and jumps inside the car with all the spry energy of someone too young to be my mom’s new boyfriend. “Hey,” he says, grinning at my mom.
“Hi,” my mom says back.
He leans across the console and Mom jumps. “Emma is here!” she says brightly, turning her attention to me. He flinches. Clearly, he was about to go in for a kiss, and she just stopped him with the ultimate buzzkill. “David, this is my daughter.”
“Hi, Emma,” he says, flashing me a smile. If I were anywhere else and this guy smiled at me like that, I would think he’s cute. Really cute. But right now it’s just gross because he’s dating my mom.
“Hello,” I say. “How old are you?”
He laughs, but I can feel my mom’s eyes widen as she glares at me. This is probably not her definition of acting normal.
“I’m almost twenty-two,” David says. “I just graduated with a Bachelors in Business Management.”
“Let’s go!” Mom says, turning her cheerfulness meter up to epic proportions. This is awkward for everyone, but my mom is determined to make the best of it. She’s been dating David for a few months now, and although I figured he was younger than her, I didn’t think he was this young. Oh well, if this is what it takes for my mom to get over the fact that Dad was cheating on her with multiple women, then I’ll stand by and act normal about it.
Mom and David chat about the Spring Falls Historical Museum on the whole short drive over there. Despite living here in Spring Falls for my entire life, I’ve never been to the place. Once, during an elementary school field trip, we had a picnic lunch in the park near the museum but we didn’t go inside. Maybe that’s why the place is closing down. Despite the town’s best efforts to keep the museum open, they announced this year that they couldn’t afford it anymore and will have to close down and sell the property. All of the historical items are being transferred to another city with a more thriving museum population.
Today is the last day the museum will be open, and they made a big deal about having a final party before it closes. Everyone in town must have decided to show up, judging by the lack of parking. Mom finds a spot really far away and we walk toward the old museum.
It’s a square brick building from the early 1900’s with a large courtyard surrounding it and a park next door. The tall trees and green grass make it very beautiful, and I hope that whoever buys the building after this will keep the aesthetic the same.
There are people everywhere. I guess our whole small town felt bad about never visiting the museum like how Mom and I did, so we all came out today. We get in line and David and my mom are holding hands and it’s kind of gross. I guess I shouldn’t be upset because at least Mom has a boyfriend. Unlike me, who has only been on two dates with two different guys who both tried to feel me up in a darkened movie theater. What is it with guys and movie theaters? Ugh.
Mom pays the five dollar entry fee for all of us. There’s a woman passing out tickets and another one holding a large wicker basket that’s filled with cell phones. “In they go,” she says.
Um, excuse me?
Mom and David drop their phones into the basket without a second thought. I keep walking but the woman holds out her hand. “All phones go in the basket,” she says.
“I don’t have a phone,” I lie. This thing cost me eight hundred dollars and I’m not about to abandon it in a basket with dozens of other phones.
She points to my back pocket. “Then what is that?”
Ugh.
“Emma, just do it,” Mom says, her voice bordering on aggravated. “We won’t be in there very long.”
“Why do I have to give up
my phone?” I say, reluctantly sliding it out of my pocket.
All she says is, “The historical museum wants all visitors to experience the way life was a hundred years ago.”
I don’t want my mom to be pissed at me, so I drop my phone in, as much as it hurts me to my very core to part with it. If they lose my phone, I’ll raise so much hell they’ll wish they’d never messed with me.
The museum is too packed with people to be fun, even though some of the exhibits are kind of cool. An entire section of the building is decorated like a real house from the eighteenth century. You can walk around and sit on the hardwood furniture and lay on the bed with an uncomfortable straw mattress. Only, I don’t get to try it out because there’s just too many people.
I try to get a peek at a recreation of an old doctor’s office, complete with creepy looking medical devices and glass bottles of questionable liquid. No wonder people died young back then.
As seven o’clock approaches, the museum’s patrons start to filter out since it’s almost closing time. I wander around by myself because seeing my mom be all PDA with her new young boyfriend is gross. A woman announces that they’re closing in ten minutes, and I realize I should probably pee before we leave. I walk toward the back of the museum in search of a bathroom. When I can’t find one, I venture down a narrow hallway that seems like it leads to offices or something.
Finally, I find a restroom. I slip inside and pee. While I’m washing my hands, the lights turn off, leaving me in total darkness with wet hands. What is going on?
I slide my feet across the floor slowly in the direction of the little sliver of light that’s coming from the bottom of the door. I dry my hands off on my jeans and then open the door to the narrow hallway. Most of the lights are off back here, but there’s an emergency light in the corner so I can see my way back to the front of the museum.
Only, most of these lights are off too. Only one dim emergency light is on in each exhibit. I walk slowly so I don’t bump into anything as I make my way around. Everyone is gone. There’s not a single person in here. I am all alone.
And I don’t have a phone.
Chapter 2
Jaxxon
Why does this box smell like root beer? I wrinkle my nose and stare at the wooden chest in front of me. The woman who brought me in here had acted like it was the most annoying thing in the world to show me where the lost and found was kept, even though this place is about to close forever and they’ll have to get rid of everything. You’d think they’d want to help people find their lost items.
This isn’t the most organized lost and found chest. It looks like it was made as a last resort after too many people left their coats on benches in the gift shop. My heart clangs around in my chest because I know this is my last chance to find my dad’s cross necklace. I have looked everywhere else. It’s not in my car, and it’s not at my house. It’s not on the sidewalk from the driveway to my front door. The last place I remember wearing the necklace was last weekend when I took my little brother Brett here.
I distinctly remember it hitting me in the face when I bent down to tie my shoe. I normally wear Dad’s necklace tucked underneath my shirt, so when it had hit me, I was annoyed. I pushed it back under my shirt and finished tying my shoe. This has to be where it fell off. I didn’t even notice it was missing until later on in the night when I went to shower. So it has to be here. I have to find it.
It’s the last part of my dad that I have left.
I drop to my knees and dig through the lost and found. The smell of root beer is coming from a cluster of shirts that are stained brown. Wrinkling my nose, I toss them on the floor. I’ll pick it all up later, but I need to find this necklace. It’s small and silver and would have probably sunk to the bottom if someone turned it in. I take out every single item, from jackets to kid’s socks to an empty purse and three shoes that don’t have a match.
I shake everything hoping that the silver necklace will fall out of some fold or crevasse, but it doesn’t. When the bin is empty, I look around as my last bits of hope fade away. It’s not here. I guess I knew it wouldn’t be. It was sterling silver with a large silver cross that looked like two railroad spikes crossing each other. People don’t usually turn in items of value.
Someone probably found it and kept it.
I stand up and shove all the items back in the wooden chest. My whole body feels weighed down by disappointment. I don’t want to admit defeat right now, but I’m running out of any optimism I might have had before I started this search.
My dad died four years ago.
In just four years, I’ve lost every single part of him. I can barely remember his voice, or his smile. Now I don’t have his necklace. Brett has his leather wallet with his driver’s license, but now I have nothing.
My worthless mother got rid of everything else just before she left us. He’d only been dead a few weeks after the cancer took him and she decided she wanted “more from this life.” Whatever that means. She dumped us off at Aunt Vivian’s house and never came back.
I take a deep breath and unclench my jaw. Now is not the time to let the anger inside. I push it back to the edges of my subconscious where it stays, waiting like a lion longing to be set free. I have to keep my crap together and stay strong for Brett. Of course, these days my sixteen-year-old brother seems to be doing a lot better than I am. He’s got a girlfriend with nice parents and he’s always over there, avoiding our shared bedroom at Aunt Vivian’s house.
Maybe I should be looking up to my little brother instead of the other way around. I start walking down the hallway when suddenly the lights go off, making me nearly crash into the wall in front of me. I blink quickly as my eyes adjust to the dark. There are no windows in this old building, and just a handful of emergency lights are on. I make my way to a side exit door and push on it. Locked.
I turn around and head back to the front of the museum. Maybe they just closed down this back part which is just hallways of offices. But when I reach the medicine exhibit, the lights are also off. I walk slowly through the pathways, making sure I don’t knock over some ancient relic that’s worth a lot of money. I can barely see in here, and my first thought is to use the flashlight on my phone, but of course, I had to give up my phone.
Why would they close down the freaking museum without giving everyone their phones back? Idiots. I make it to the main entrance and I push on the doors. They don’t budge. What is going on?
I push harder, rattling the doors. “Hello?” I call out. But no one answers. No employees rush back to unlock the door for me. It’s like they just snapped their fingers and locked the place up. I’ll have to go back to the offices and find a phone and call for help. I turn around, my eyes blinking in the dim lighting.
At first I think it’s my imagination, but I definitely hear something. I look around, my eyes focusing on a flash of movement behind a statue of the man who founded Spring Falls. “Hello?” I say, walking toward the movement. My pulse speeds up and my mind wonders if I’m just seeing things.
I approach the statue and stop a few feet away. I listen intently. “Hello?” I say again, feeling stupid. Maybe it was just my imagination.
Then, a girl steps out from behind the statue, brandishing a black umbrella like a weapon. “Who are you?” she says, her voice shaking.
“Whoa.” I hold up my hands and back away. “I’m Jaxxon. Who are you?”
She just stares at me, or at least I think that’s what she’s doing. I can barely make out her face in the darkness. She’s pretty though, and she seems about my age.
“I’m Emma,” she says, still holding tightly to the umbrella.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I say, putting on a smile so I seem less scary. “I’m just locked in here.”
“Me too,” she says after a long moment. She lowers her makeshift weapon. “Please tell me you have a phone.”
“Sorry,” I say, shaking my head. “I was hoping you had one.”
Chapter 3
Emma
I feel like an idiot. Here I am holding an umbrella as if that would provide any protection at all from a crazy museum murderer. Luckily this guy isn’t wearing some creepy Halloween mask, and he doesn’t look like a murderer. I think he just got locked in here like I did.
I shake my head. “They took my phone when I got here. I can’t believe they would lock the doors before making sure everyone is out! Don’t they have a basket with phones in it?” I let out a frustrated sigh. “I knew someone was going to steal my phone.”
“Crap,” Jaxxon mutters in the darkness. “That means mine got stolen, too.”
“Good luck guessing my passcode,” I say to no one in particular.
“I was way in the back looking through the lost and found when the lights turned off,” Jaxxon says. “Where were you?”
“The bathroom.”
He snorts. “I guess the employees didn’t care to do their job well tonight since it’s their last night of work. They could have walked around or something.”
“I’m sure they’ll be back to get us,” I say. “My mom is probably standing outside demanding that someone open the doors. Right now I’m more concerned about my missing phone.”
“That’s good.” Jaxxon walks toward the wall and presses his hands to it. I stare at him in the darkness, barely able to see his shadowy figure as he moves around. “There it is,” he says, flipping a light switch.
My eyes hurt from the sudden shock of light as all of the museum’s lights flicker on. I have to blink a few times until my eyes adjust, but I’m immediately grateful to be able to see again. Jaxxon runs a hand through his short light brown hair. I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. Now that I can fully see this stranger, he’s really cute. Crazy cute. He’s even hotter than the guys at school who don’t bother paying attention to me.
