by Shaun Plair
“Oh you did?” David responded to whatever his Ana comment was.
“Yeah, just wanted to talk to her, didn’t mean to interrupt you guys but I just have to speak to her if that’s cool.”
David poked out his lips and shrugged. Then he looked to me, questioning.
“Yeah, sure.” I didn’t know what else to say. The weak, cracking voice that came out was Sydney’s.
I felt David slip away from me but I couldn’t make myself let go of the sight of Eric, his tall, thin figure and his so-typical t-shirt and jeans. He was clearly on some type of mission, and I couldn’t understand why that mission involved me. He nodded and waved his hand, leading me away from the crowded mob of teenagers.
As I followed him to wherever he was leading me, I watched the crowd of Rock Bridgers pass me glances until we had left the main room. We walked through the back, where the refreshments were, and moved outside through a door at the end of the hall. It was dark out, and I didn’t see any probable destination.
“Where are we going?” I asked. I hurriedly reminded myself that I must be Ana at all times with him. He made me do strange things.
“Just relax,” he answered, and I couldn’t ignore his overconfident tone. I was nervous. I, Ana, or Sydney, whoever.
He took high steps through the grass and I mimicked him, unsure as to why I was following so obediently. But without even looking back to check, he seemed to know I would.
After the short journey we reached another door in a part of the building that jolted out farther than the rest, like a separate compartment. Once inside he flicked the light on, and the room was exposed. Shelves held endless trash bags, buckets, cleaning sprays, rags, and dust pans. Brooms and mops lined a rack in the right corner of the small room. By definition it was a closet, but with a small, black, square table with four black folding chairs around it.
He stepped aside and let me pass him, gesturing that I take a seat in the chair. The drama of the event was ridiculous, and I couldn’t wait for him to tell me what we were doing on his own time.
Be Ana.
“Why so dramatic, what’s the deal?” I asked.
He looked amazed for a moment, before his expression changed. “Sit down,” he demanded, eyes rolling. And I sat, embarrassed that I’d agitated him.
“I’m just curious as to why you brought me here.”
“To talk.”
Would he not say more? He sat up straight in the chair next to mine, but kept his hands beneath the table, as did I. Too formal for a common conversation, we stared around the room in silence.
“I’ve noticed you around here, which should be obvious.”
My eyes shot to him.
“And it turns out you’ve caught my interest.” He looked up at me to check my reaction.
What did he mean, caught his interest? Each of his words increased my heart rate.
“And I have a question to ask you.”
“What is it?” I fired back.
He pulled his hands together and rested his elbows on top of the table. After watching his hands twiddle for a long moment, he looked back up at me. “Why pretend?”
I inhaled as I took in the question before cawing back, “What are you talking about?”
“You told David and all of them you’re from San Diego. You didn’t even know who the USC Trojans were.”
“Jesus, will you just stay out of my business?”
“And then you left your notebook in class on Friday.”
My planner. I thought I’d left it in my locker. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“I opened it to see if it was yours, and found a Georgia number and address written inside the front cover.”
Shit. Why didn’t I just buy a new planner?
“And the name was different too.”
He knew. He knew everything. I was caught. It was all over.
“It’s my cousin’s!” I shouted. “She let me use it since she didn’t need it anymore.”
“And you had that UGA key chain. And I swear I hear a slight southern accent when you talk.”
“My mom went to UGA. That book was my cousin’s hand-me-down. I’m from San Diego. I just don’t care about sports.” I spit each phrase out, staring at the black table in front of me.
“Didn’t you tell David you played lacrosse?”
“Who do you think you are, coming at me like this? You don’t know me!” The situation was becoming too overwhelming. The one slipup I made had to be around the nosiest, most curious guy in the whole damn school.
“Calm down, why are you yell—?”
“Just leave me alone and mind your business.” I tossed the words at him as I pulled my chair back from the table.
“You don’t understand, Ana.” He slid his chair back to mimic mine. “I want in—”
“You’re absolutely sick. And confused,” I told him. I pushed my hands against the table, hard, moved from my chair and stood. He was scaring me, scaring Sydney, and I had to regain control. He was threatening to take my everything away, to expose me. He rose from his seat, too.
“Listen,” I said, “you’re way off base. You don’t know me or anything about me, and anything to do with me is not your business at all.” Disgust exuded from my face and I turned toward the door, to leave before he could say another word and stop me.
I heard his steps coming after me … closer. As I reached for the door, he gripped my elbow and turned me swiftly, firmly.
“You don’t understand what I’m saying,” he said, a plea, tugging on my elbow until I faced him. His eyes bored into mine, and in his eyes I again found that rare vulnerability. I shook my head, eager to get away. Frustrated that part of me wanted to stay right where I was.
“I don’t want to understand,” I said. “I want to leave.”
He glanced back and forth between my eyes. Then he traced me down with his glare all the way to my shoes, until he finally answered, lifting his head.
“I’ve been hiding myself from these people for years. Whatever it is, I can help.”
I was staring into his eyes when it happened: the inexplicable thing that made me forget any person on the earth existed other than him—including myself. And that thing made me forget what logic was, it made me lose all instinct or intuition. All I could understand in that moment was that feeling … of safety. I could have been out of the door long ago, but his promises of security lured me in like a meteor, into the massive star that was another soul to confide in. We shared an intense silence, before he cracked. He glanced to his side, and let the smirk creep through his lips.
“I can help,” he repeated, slowly releasing his hand from my elbow.
As I lost the feeling of his touch and he looked to the ground, I began to notice the feeling returning to my various body parts. Once I had a little control, I fought to think clearly, to be my own rock, if only for a minute.
He wanted to know my secret. He wanted to meet Sydney. He had seen the shades of gray that were Ana, found chips in the paint of my disguise, and was going to do his best to peel the rest off. While his offer was attractive: a confidant, a way to let it all out, it wasn’t worth the risk. He could tell someone any minute. He already knew too much.
I’d worked too hard making sure no one could get inside me again, and to control who could get close enough to hurt me. After all, even if—best-case scenario—a human were capable of always being dependable, trustworthy, understanding, supportive, and interested in me for an entire relationship, God could always come in and snatch them right out of my life. I couldn’t stand that again.
I looked back up and met his eyes again. They stared anxious and timid into mine. I opened my mouth to answer.
“No, you can’t.” I paused. “There’s nothing to help.”
I turned sharply then, wondering if he might stop me again—hoping? But he didn’t, just stood silent behind me as I walked away toward the door.
My arms were folded tight into my chest and my eyes
watched the grass race past beneath my feet. The loud music inside the clubhouse thrust me back into reality. Grateful, I filled a cup with lemonade and went to sit at one of the tables. I dodged eyes along the way, until finally I reached the folding chair I was headed for and plopped down.
The lemonade was pungent and warm, so I set it on a table, not planning to touch it again. When I looked up from the table I noticed Eric leaving the refreshments room and entering the main room, walking toward the tables where I sat. He caught me watching him, and immediately I turned away—guilty for leaving him alone outside in a closet with no explanation, and afraid of giving myself away even more than I already had.
After what I thought to be enough time I glanced back to see him walk past the dance floor to the bar. He slid to a spot on the wall far enough away from the crowd so as not to invite conversation. He saw me staring more, but I didn’t turn away.
That was, until Taylor and Brit interrupted the stare, standing directly between Eric and me.
“Hey, guys,” I greeted them, almost having forgotten that tonight I was Ana Smith who came to the first party of the year with five of her new girlfriends: not Sydney who was almost caught living alone under a fake name.
“What was that about, Ana?” Taylor spoke urgently, seeming appalled that I hadn’t told them yet—even if it was only two minutes ago.
“What do you mean?” I asked. My mind was in a completely different realm.
“What was that? With Eric Brantley?” Brit’s speech was choppy, her eyes questioning.
“Oh, you saw that? That was nothing,” I cawed. “He just needed to talk to me, about nothing really.” I quickly realized how hard it would be to tell what had happened, and to explain why any of it made sense, and why all of it made me feel like throwing up or throwing a tantrum. So I lied. “It was just about a History thing, he just wanted to go outside so we could hear. No big deal.”
Taylor seemed to go for it, but still rolled her eyes, and exhaled so that I noticed.
“I’m keeping my eye on you two,” she said, her tone suggestive and joking, and trailed back toward the poolroom. Brit still stood next to the table; she’d been looking at Eric until Taylor left, but now faced me.
“Eric Brantley does not ask for help in History.” Brit annunciated her speech as if to point out what an unfitting lie I had chosen to tell. As I realized the trap I’d set for myself, I looked at Eric leaning on the wall in the distance, and remembered that day in History when he went off ranting about history to the teacher.
“I had a question for him,” I told her.
Whether Brit believed me or not, she could sense my overwhelming desire to be done with the conversation. “Okay,” she said, inflecting her voice to let me know she hadn’t yet let the incident go. But then she smiled at me, genuinely, and I returned it.
I exhaled as she walked away and sought comfort in the lemonade, forgetting that I’d left it alone for a reason. The bitter taste struck me hard, and it took all I had not to spit it out. I forced it down and breathed heavily, not hiding the distaste I felt. Then I noticed two eyes watching me from across the room, with that charming smirk below them, enjoying every moment that Ana struggled and Sydney shined.
Chapter 10
The party wound down and eventually Kylie and Michelle were able to pull themselves off the dance floor. Taylor rounded everyone up, except Arianna; Brandon was going to give her a ride home. The rest of us walked out in our pack-like fashion toward Taylor’s car. They all chatted loudly, but Kylie and Michelle were the loudest as they droned on about the gossip they’d heard and witnessed at the party.
We were among the last to leave, and only a few scattered cars covered the lot. My attention was on the small gray one parked in the spot directly to the right of Taylor’s car. I noticed it because Eric stood leaning on the right side of it. Alone.
I tensed at the sight of him, and his posture straightened as we moved closer. He took steps toward us and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
“Speaking of new romances,” Kylie said, “what happened with you and David, Ana?”
Having completely zoned out of the girls’ conversation, the question pulled me back in. My face wrinkled as I tried to remember.
“Um, nothing really, now that I think about it. He came late, and we danced a little, but … I think he left when the rest of the guys did, all of them except for Brandon I guess.” By mentioning Brandon, I was attempting to shift the conversation to Arianna.
“You couldn’t care less about David now, huh?” Brit said, and Kylie and Michelle swiftly became more interested.
“What do you mean?” I asked, dumbfounded.
“I’m saying, you’re interested in this one now, right?” Brit’s nod sent my eyes to see Eric standing expectantly as we walked closer to him. I had no intention of answering Brit’s question.
“What is he doing?” I asked, to any of the girls who were listening, or to no one, I couldn’t be sure. Kylie and Michelle shared a shocked gasp while Brit and Taylor side-eyed at me knowingly as if to say, You aren’t fooling anyone.
“What’s he doing? Go see,” Taylor demanded as we approached where he stood.
“No, let’s just get in the car, please—”
“That’s no way to make friends, Ana. He’s waiting for you,” Brit said. “Go see what he wants.”
“Guys—”
“We’ll be in the car,” Taylor said as the pack left me without backup. Taylor unlocked her car’s doors, let the others in, and then she got in herself, shutting the door.
I rushed after them and pulled on the door handle to the back door. It was locked. Kylie and Michelle giggled inside, and shooed me with their hands. I tried to tame the fury rising in me while they laughed and forced me into a crisis none of them understood the severity of.
“Ana,” he called.
I stopped and looked at him. “What now?”
“Why don’t you let me take you home?”
“I have a ride.” I crossed my arms and leaned on one leg, hoping the show would make the girls let me back in the car.
“I know,” he said, and then he chuckled. “Ride with me anyway.”
“No, I’m riding home with them,” I said, pointed a thumb at the car and turned toward it. I pulled the handle again without success, only to watch the girls laugh and shoo me more. I let out a grunt that came out louder than I planned.
“Dammit.”
“You know, I’m not so bad,” he said, but I ignored him. “Just give me a chance to apologize. I was out of line before.”
A weakness slipped through his voice and when that happened, it was hard not to give in to him. I turned to see him standing, hood on his head and hands in his pockets, head cocked to the side so his bangs fell over his eyes. Brown flip-flops slid between his big toe and the others and as I watched him wiggle his toes, a raindrop kissed my forehead.
That one drop turned into a few, and we both looked up to find threatening clouds above us.
“Ride with me and let me apologize, and I promise I’ll leave you alone forever after today.” He tossed his head to swing his bangs out of his eyes. More droplets bounced off my forehead and arms, and small wet spots begun to cover my shirt and shorts.
“It’d be nice if you could say yes before we get poured on, though.”
“Fine,” I said, arms still crossed. Having this guy off my back was more than worth it.
“Fine?”
“Fine.”
“Perfect,” he said, to the air perhaps, because as he said it he was walking past me and approaching Taylor’s driver’s seat window. He tapped it, and she rolled it down and played it cool, as if they hadn’t been listening and swooning over our every word.
“Hey Eric, what’s up?” she asked, glancing up at the increasingly more menacing-looking sky.
“I’m going to take Ana home, she’s right on the way for me.”
“Yeah?” Taylor sent a glance my way, her brows raised. I
nodded, trying not to look miserable.
“Okay, text us when you get back, Ana,” she said.
“Text all of us,” Michelle corrected from the backseat as she stuck her head between the two seats in the front. “See you later, Ana.”
Taylor smiled and rolled up the window, leaving Eric to turn and face me. He walked to the passenger side of the car to open the door for me.
“After this, you leave me alone.” I said to him, noticing the droplets falling more steadily.
“Get in,” he said.
I sat in his car’s gray leather seat and started to buckle my seatbelt as he closed the door and slipped behind the steering wheel. Taylor’s car pulled out of the lot before he spoke again.
“Where to?” he asked, purposely pompous. And I realized that after spending the night as Ana, I’d actually forgotten that Sydney had gotten herself into the biggest mess of her life. One more person to think I lived in a house I didn’t live in. One more dumb Sydney move. I’d have to stick with Ana’s neighborhood.
“I live in Highland Oaks, you know where that is?”
“Yeah, I know it.”
Without a second passing, he cranked the ignition and the car grumbled on. Soft jazz bled through his speakers, loudly before he readjusted the volume. Raindrops blurred the front window until he instructed the windshield wipers to smear them away. Horns sounded through the speakers softly while raindrops danced down each window around us.
“You like jazz?” he said.
“It’s getting late. We should get going.”
He pulled out of the lot and turned onto the street that would lead us out of Hailey Green’s neighborhood while I hugged my ribs.
“Jazz is my music, it’s like the genre was created just for me,” he said. “Like Miles Davis and Billie Holiday, only the good stuff, you know?”
I watched him turn to me, and turn back to watch the road, and then repeat the process.
