Boy in the Mirror

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Boy in the Mirror Page 28

by Robert J. Duperre


  Annette gasped.

  CHAPTER 42

  Jordan watched Jacqueline from across the crowded hall as students rushed to reach their buses. Her hair was pinned up and she wore a pair of black stretch pants topped with a billowy long-sleeved blouse. She looked absolutely beautiful, but carried herself as if uncomfortable in her own skin.

  That was the wonderful contradiction Jordan loved about Jacqueline Talbot.

  He raised his hand to her, but she never looked up. She seemed frightened. Jordan walked faster, only to stop when he saw Drew Cottard, Kurt Briggs, and Yoel Martinez approach her.

  Drew bent down, whispered something to Jacqueline. She remained frozen, unresponsive. The senior boy squeezed her shoulder and turned toward Jordan, smiling as he weaved his way through the throng.

  “Hello, Jordan,” Drew said, holding out his hand. Kurt and Yoel kept watch on his back like guard dogs.

  Jordan ignored the hand. “Hey.”

  “I need to apologize again,” Drew said, nodding. “The way I’ve been acting was unbecoming for a Cottard. I realize that now, and I hope you can someday forgive me.”

  Jordan gnawed his cheek and kept silent.

  Even though Drew’s smile seemed warm enough, there was something lurking behind his eyes that Jordan didn’t like; a sort of emptiness, like he was looking through Jordan instead of at him. That, combined with his old friend’s change in attitude, made Jordan wary. His father had long told him that people never changed dramatically, at least not all at once.

  “Listen,” Drew said, “I miss the way we used to be. We need to spend some time together again. Would that be pleasurable to you? Perhaps this weekend?”

  He shuddered at the cold exactness in Drew’s tone. “Excuse me if I don’t exactly trust you,” Jordan said.

  “I understand. I deserve that. But please, I need you to know that I want us to be friends again. I hope you’ll come to accept that in time.” He reached into his pocket. “Actually, I was wondering if you could help me out.”

  “With what?”

  Drew held up a small vial. “I bought some perfume for Hannah, but I cannot tell how pleasant the odor is.”

  “Well, I don’t—”

  Drew unstopped the vial and shoved it beneath Jordan’s nose before he could finish speaking. Jordan got a whiff of something pungent, liked burnt grease, before knocking his hand away. A headache spiked behind his eyes and he squinted. The sensation only lasted a second, and he shook his head to clear it while his heart thrummed rapidly.

  “That wasn’t perfume,” Jordan said, fists clenched.

  “How do you feel?” asked Drew.

  “What? How do I feel? This a joke?”

  Drew’s frown deepened as he shoved the vial back into his pocket. “Never mind about this weekend, Jordan. We can reconnect some other time.”

  Just like that, Drew and his cronies marched away. Jordan rubbed the back of his neck. “Assholes,” he muttered, and turned to find Jacqueline.

  She was still in front of her locker, speaking with Annette. Their conversation died when he strolled up to them.

  “Hi, ladies,” he muttered, feeling beyond uneasy.

  “Hey!” Annette replied, tossing her large bag over her shoulder and slowly backing away. “Sorry I can’t stay. Gotta, y’know, catch the bus and all. Have fun you two.” The tiny girl pivoted on her heels and disappeared into the congested hall.

  “She’s an odd girl,” Jordan said. “How about you?”

  “I guess I’m odd too,” Jacqueline said with a shrug.

  “That’s not what I mean. How’re you doing?”

  “Fine. Great. I guess.”

  She kept fidgeting, as if she was itchy all over. Jordan’s spirits plummeted. Jacqueline had been friendlier since Thanksgiving, but she still seemed edgy around him. Jordan had tried different approaches to get her to open up, but nothing worked. She just wasn’t that into him, which was embarrassing. Another five months and you’ll be out of high school and going to college, he told himself. There’ll be plenty of other girls there. Don’t get hung up on this one.

  But none of them will be her.

  No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t get Jacqueline Talbot out of his mind.

  Jordan stared down at her, flexing his hands, trying to think of something to say. “It’s really cold outside,” he said, cringing as soon as the words left his mouth.

  Jacqueline chuckled. “It’s January.”

  “Yeah, well, I hate the cold.”

  “Cold sucks.”

  “It does. I can’t wait for spring.”

  “Me neither.”

  “When the crocuses—”

  “Jordan?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I really gotta go. Can’t miss the bus.”

  “Oh. Okay. Sorry.”

  “Yeah. See ya.”

  She turned and quick-stepped away, coat slung over her shoulder along with her backpack. Jordan leaned against the lockers, tried to see if anyone noticed his humiliating failure. Thankfully, it seemed no one had.

  Drew must’ve said something to scare her, Jordan reasoned. He pushed himself off the wall, hoping to catch up with the jerk before he left school for the day.

  As he rounded the corner into the hub, he saw Hannah Phillips, walking all by herself, a frown on her lips as she stared at the floor. Jordan reached out and grabbed her arm before she passed him by.

  “Hey!” she said loudly, spinning around. “Don’t touch me like that again.” She brushed the wrinkles from her elbow-length, form-fitting sport jacket.

  “Where’s Drew?” Jordan said forcibly.

  “Haven’t seen him,” she shot back.

  “No?”

  Hannah gave him a disdainful look. “My boyfriend doesn’t have time for me anymore. Now excuse me. I have an FBLA meeting to run,” she said before storming away.

  Outside, Jordan found Andrea waiting for him, bundled against the cold and leaning against the wall, nose buried in a book. She smiled at him as he approached. At least someone seemed happy to see him.

  “Ready, big guy?” she said.

  “Not yet. You see Drew leave?”

  “Haven’t really been watching.”

  Jordan told her to stay put and jogged to the hill overlooking the lower the parking lot. Drew’s Lexus was still there, covered with a sheet of ice. He turned back around and ran to Andrea.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “I need to find that jerk.”

  “This wouldn’t have anything to do with Jacqueline, would it?”

  “Of course.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, puppy dog. Let’s find him.”

  They scoured the school for a half-hour, and finally struck gold once they reached the boys’ locker room. Jordan heard faint voices speaking inside, though no one should’ve been in there since the basketball and wrestling teams were both competing at other schools.

  “What’re you going to do?” Andrea asked.

  “Not sure.”

  “Huh?”

  He shrugged. “I think I just need to talk to him. Not really positive why.”

  “I think you’re going crazy on me, Jordan Thompson. Please be careful.”

  Jordan nodded, grabbed the door handle. He opened it and stepped inside.

  The sound of Drew’s voice grew louder. Jordan slowed down, trying to be as quiet as possible. Maybe he’d hear something Drew didn’t want him to know. Maybe he could find out exactly what was going on.

  “He’s to be left alone, unless he gives us no other choice. Father deems it so,” he heard Drew say, and Jordan froze in his tracks.

  “But he didn’t bond,” said Yoel. “Which means he is of her covenant, not ours.”

  “It matters not. He is not to be harmed in any way. He may be important.”

  Jordan leaned against the wall, completely flabbergasted. Were they messing with him?

  “And the aunt?” said Kurt’s detached voic
e. “What of her?”

  “Father thinks she wishes to stop the awakening from taking place. We will bring her to him. He will speak with her. Examine her. In the name of Khayrat.”

  What the hell?

  “We have four days,” Yoel said. “We cannot delay. The awakening must come. Otherwise, we are all doomed.”

  “It will come,” said Drew. “Come Monday night, any who step in the way, any who threaten the vessel, will perish. Talbot is key. Glory be to God.”

  “Glory be to God,” the other two said in unison.

  The three of them began chanting in some strange language, and Jordan took that as his cue to sneak back out of the locker room. He opened the door softly and inched into the hub. Andrea stared at him like he had three heads.

  “Jordan, what’s going on?” she asked.

  He put a finger to his lips, pressed his ear to the door. They were still chanting. He threw his arm around Andrea and hurried her toward the exit.

  It was only when they’d stepped back into the biting cold of January in Connecticut that Jordan breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Seriously,” said Andrea as they headed across the parking lot, “you have to tell me what’s going on.”

  “I don’t know. It’s just…‌freaking weirdness.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like Drew talking like a fundy.”

  “You talked to him?”

  “No. Listened.”

  “Oh.”

  They slipped inside his old Buick. Jordan started the car, waiting for the heat to kick on and defrost the windshield.

  “Jordan, you’re scaring me,” Andrea said.

  “Sorry,” he replied, dropping his head in his hands, trying to think this through. There was a dreadful, sinking feeling in his gut. He couldn’t explain it, couldn’t understand it, but he just knew that Jacqueline was in trouble.

  He turned to his oldest friend. “Andrea, what’re you doing on Monday after school?”

  “Monday? Homework, I guess. Why?”

  “Because we’re going to spy on Drew. This is craziness, but I think he’s going to do something horrible to Jacqueline.”

  “And if he does?”

  Jordan threw the old Buick into reverse and backed out of his spot.

  “Then I’ll bash his head in myself,” he said. “Just like Todd.”

  CHAPTER 43

  Jacqueline reclined in bed on the Saturday before her birthday, holding the compact close to her cheek. She smiled at Mal’s warmth. Mitzy had been working so many hours lately that she’d taken to spending half the weekend sleeping, which meant Jacqueline did too.

  But on this morning, her aunt stormed into her room at ten o’clock and shook her awake. Jacqueline sat up with a start, shoved the compact beneath her pillow.

  Mitzy didn’t seem to notice. She seemed exhausted, eyes ringed with purple, as she stared at her niece. She held a crumpled piece of paper in her hand. “What the hell is this?” she asked.

  “What’s what?”

  Her aunt huffed, waved the paper in front of her. “This. Your report card. One B, three C’s, a D and an F? Are you even trying?”

  Really? After everything that’d happened to her, Aunt Mitzy was freaking out over her report card? Jacqueline shook her head, rolled her eyes, and threw her hands up.

  “Don’t get that way with me,” Mitzy scolded. “Your future’s important, Jackie.”

  “Whatever.” She tossed aside the covers, slid off the bed and past her aunt without a second glance, yawning as she hurried toward the stairs. Her stomach grumbled. Her head throbbed.

  “Get back here,” Mitzy said.

  Jacqueline ignored her, tramping down the steps and into the kitchen, where she snatched the vitamin B smoothie from the fridge and slurped it from the bottle. Mitzy stormed in just as she was wiping the remnants from her lips.

  “You’re going to talk to me,” Mitzy declared.

  “Am not,” Jacqueline replied, slamming the smoothie container on the counter and facing away from her aunt.

  “What are you, five?”

  “No. Are you?”

  “This is stupid, Jackie. Stop it.”

  Jacqueline ground her teeth together. Her back was to Mitzy, and not looking at the woman allowed her to hold onto her anger. All the doubts she’d been having bubbled to the surface. Mal’s voice echoed in her head: She doesn’t have your best interest in mind. You can’t trust her. She rolled her shoulders, puffed out her chest.

  “You can’t tell me what to do,” she said defiantly. “You don’t control me.”

  “I might not control you, but I’m responsible for you, and your future. You don’t know how hard I work to protect you. I can’t let these grades slide. You need to—”

  Jacqueline spun around, flesh prickling. “Don’t tell me what I need to do! I don’t need anything. I don’t need school, and I don’t need you! What I do need is sleep. Maybe I should just run away and go to the city. Make money selling drugs. Then I can sleep all I want.” She grinned despite, or perhaps because of, her hurtful words.

  Mitzy’s lips drooped downward. “You shouldn’t joke about stuff like that. It’s not funny.”

  “Who’s being funny?” Jacqueline said, throwing her arms out wide. “I should do it! It works for you. Look at all the nice stuff you have.”

  “What?” Mitzy said, falling back a step.

  Don’t do it, Jacqueline’s conscience told her, but her anger had control now. “I found your box upstairs,” she grumbled, “the one with pot and gun and money.”

  Her aunt’s eyes bulged, her lips quivered. “Jackie. Sweetie…”

  “Admit it,” seethed Jacqueline. “You’re a drug dealer who has sex with cops so you won’t get caught.”

  That was a step too far, and she knew it. Mitzy’s entire body seemed to deflate. Her eyes glistened with tears that began to slowly roll down her cheeks. She backed up one step, then two.

  Jacqueline froze, suddenly terrified now that she saw the hurt in those eyes. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She could only look on as Mitzy lost her footing and collapsed against the kitchen counter, sobbing. Mitzy’s body shuddered. A few moments later, her aunt abruptly snatched up her purse and scampered out of the room before Jacqueline could gather the courage to say she was sorry. The sound of the front door slamming came next, followed by Mitzy’s sedan roaring to life and screaming out the driveway.

  “Come back. I’m sorry,” Jacqueline whispered.

  Too late.

  Jacqueline dropped her head. Finally she could move, and she moped back up the stairs and into her bedroom. She grabbed the compact from beneath her pillow, shaking so much that it was hard to pry it open. Mal stared up at her in concern. He brushed aside a strand of white hair and squinted. “What’s wrong?”

  “I think I screwed up,” she told him.

  “What did you do?”

  “I yelled at my aunt.” She sniffled. “I said some horrible things. I made her run away.”

  Mal shrugged. “Maybe it’s for the best.”

  “What if she doesn’t come back?”

  “If she loves you she’ll come back, Jackie. I promise.” The boy in the mirror tilted his head to the side. “But if she doesn’t…‌it won’t matter. I’ll be out of here soon, and we’ll be together. It’ll be the way it was always supposed to be, Jackie. You and me. Forever.”

  That night, as she lay in bed with Mal beside her head in an empty house, Jacqueline couldn’t help but hear those words in her head over and over again. They should’ve been a comfort for her.

  But with Mitzy still gone, they weren’t.

  CHAPTER 44

  “It’ll be okay,” Mr. Mancuso said as he steered his car through Sunday afternoon traffic.

  “I hope so,” Jacqueline replied, chomping on her fingernails and intermittently checking her phone. Mitzy still hadn’t called. She hadn’t heard from her aunt since the previous morning, and now she was really worried.


  “It’s not your fault. Everyone makes mistakes.”

  Jacqueline frowned.

  Mr. Mancuso nudged her. “Kids get into fights with their parents all the time. Your aunt’s a good woman. She’ll come to her senses.”

  “What if she doesn’t come back?” Jacqueline sniveled.

  Mr. Mancuso patted her on the knee. It was a fatherly, comforting touch, not creepy at all. “Give her another day or two to calm down. I’ve known Meenakshi a long time. She always comes back.”

  Jacqueline squinted up at him, wondering just how well he and Mitzy knew each other. They’d always just seemed like amiable neighbors, but there seemed to be something more there…

  They finally arrived at Olivia’s apartment complex. Mr. Mancuso pulled up to the curb, eyeing those walking the streets warily. “You sure you’ll be okay?” he asked.

  “It’s fine. I’ll catch the bus with Olive tomorrow.”

  “You brought your toothbrush, right? Night clothes?”

  She patted the heavy bag in her lap. “Everything’s right here.”

  “Good. I’ll keep your house phone at my place, in case she calls. I’ll tell her where you are.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Mancuso.”

  “Not a problem, Jacqueline. Take care.”

  “I will.”

  Jacqueline’s foot sank into the snow bank when she stepped out of the car. Mr. Mancuso lingered on the side of the road as she made her way to the building’s front entrance. Jacqueline then saw another man exit the church across the street and head for Mr. Mancuso’s car. He wore a heavy overcoat, a priest’s collar sticking up over the lapel, and he had frizzy gray hair. The priest waved at her, then stepped up to Mr. Mancuso’s window and started chatting. Mr. Mancuso must go to church here, she figured, staring at St. Joseph’s Episcopal.

  The door to the apartment building buzzed open before she had a chance to ring the bell. Jacqueline made her way to the stairs. Her overnight bag and backpack weighed her down, so she slipped her fingers beneath the straps and concentrated. The pressure all but disappeared as the straps lifted off her shoulders, suspended an inch above her fingertips by some invisible force. For the first time that day, she allowed herself to smile. Maybe these weird new abilities had some uses after all.

 

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