Unconventional Scars

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Unconventional Scars Page 4

by Allie Gail


  “What?” Anna’s eyes left the cat to meet his once more.

  “Your schedule. So I can see if we have any of the same classes.”

  “Oh. No. I think I’m supposed to get it from the office when I get there.”

  “I guess we’ll find out on Monday then.”

  The patio door opened again, and Lisa reappeared. “You ready? We don’t want those steaks to get cold. Bye, Alex.”

  Anna pulled her hand away from Sylvester reluctantly. “See you later.”

  “See you,” he echoed.

  ****

  Still cradling the purring cat, Alex watched Anna and Lisa walk away. The girl seemed nice. Kind of shy. Cute, too. Golden-brown eyes, sexy lips. And she sure could fill out a pair of blue jeans. He found himself intrigued, in spite of himself, by the idea of her living right next door. It would be nice if they shared at least one or two of the same classes. Not that a girl like that would ever be interested in him. More than likely she’d attract the attention of one of the resident studs at school, or even that of his own rakish brother. Jennifer better watch out.

  And what difference does it make to you anyway, dummy? It’s pointless to even consider. You’d better keep your distance from her if you know what’s good for you. That one could be trouble. Forbidden fruit is hard to resist when it’s right underneath your nose.

  ****

  Anna spent Sunday arranging and rearranging her school supplies. Then rearranging them again. She picked out her clothes for Monday, then changed her mind. Four times. She painted her fingernails pink, then decided against it and removed the polish. So antsy she could barely stand it, she offered to make dinner. Phil declined at first.

  “I didn’t bring you here so you could be my personal maid, Annie.” Already he had fallen into the habit of calling her by the name he’d bestowed upon her as a toddler. Anna was discovering that he was just as easygoing as she’d suspected. “Your only job, as far as I’m concerned, is to do well in school. That’s all you need to worry about. Marie and I can take care of the rest.”

  “Who?”

  “Oh, that’s right. You haven’t met her. Marie comes in twice a week to clean, cook, do the grocery shopping and laundry, whatever needs doing. She’s here Mondays and Thursdays. If there’s anything in particular you want from the store, just write it down on that notepad on the fridge and she’ll get it for you. Anything at all - don’t be afraid to ask.”

  “Okay. But, um . . . I don’t mind fixing dinner. I like to cook.”

  “You do?” Phil looked skeptical.

  “Honest. Miss May taught me how to make lots of stuff. I used to eat at her place a lot because Mom didn't shop all that much. She didn’t like to cook either, but I did. Anyhow, she usually ate dinner somewhere else.” Anna wondered why her uncle was looking at her so funny.

  “Sweetie, you’re more than welcome to cook anything, anytime you like, if that’s what you want. Just don’t do it because you feel obligated, okay? All I want you to do is enjoy your time here. You’re only sixteen years old. You’ve taken care of yourself long enough. It’s time for you to be young again, for a while anyway. No worries. All right?”

  “All right. But . . . if I don’t cook dinner tonight, then who will? Is Lisa coming over?”

  “Not tonight. She had some laundry and other chores to catch up on today. We can order in. You like Chinese food, right?”

  Anna laughed. “I get the feeling you don’t eat too much health food. Am I right?”

  “Absolutely not. The fact that every delivery driver in town knows me by name means nothing.”

  “Okay, Uncle Phil, you win. Chinese it is.”

  5

  Anna stared out of the car window at her new school. The first day she’d arrived in Smoky Hollow, the school had been dark and deserted, less threatening. Now, however, the grounds were teeming with rowdy teenagers. She swallowed nervously and wrapped her clammy fingers around the strap of her backpack. Uncle Phil was sympathetic.

  “Relax, Annie. It’s a fairly small school, and I know the parents of a lot of these kids. You won’t have any problems here.”

  Anna sighed. “I’ll just be thankful if I don’t throw up on someone.”

  Phil laughed. “Oh, come on. Once you make it through the first day, you’ll have a whole new perspective. I promise. And hey, you look really nice.”

  The fifth and final outfit she'd selected the evening before consisted of dark new blue jeans, a red eyelet lace top, and a white spring jacket. The weather here, Anna found, was considerably cooler than in Florida. It felt odd to have to wear a jacket in March, but at any rate she felt less self-conscious with it on.

  “Thanks,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “Well, wish me luck.”

  “Have a good day. I’ll pick you up here at three.”

  Anna watched him drive away, then turned and reluctantly headed for the front steps. As soon as she was inside, she selected an amicable face and requested directions to the office. The girl was polite and helpful, and feeling encouraged by this, Anna headed off in the direction she’d been pointed.

  It was much quieter inside the office. She was the only student in there, so it took no time at all for the plump, motherly woman at the desk to locate her schedule and issue a locker number.

  “Anneliese Moore,” the woman read off of some form. “Are you related to Charles and Olivia Moore?”

  “No ma’am. I don’t think so.”

  “How about Philip Moore?”

  “He’s my uncle.”

  “Your uncle! Well, land sakes. I’ve known Philip for years. He is just the sweetest thing. You be sure and tell him Marjorie says hello.”

  “I will.” Somehow the idea struck Anna as hysterically funny. Hey Sweet Thing, Marjorie says hello. She turned away from the desk quickly before a nervous giggle could potentially escape and provide proof that she was a raging imbecile.

  From behind, Marjorie called out, “Have a good day, hon!”

  Outside in the noisy hallway, she paused to quickly scan her new schedule. To her relief, she had basically the same classes she’d had at her old school. Good. No surprises there.

  There was really no need to search for her locker right now, since she had yet to be issued books, so instead she wandered the crowded halls in search of her first class. 1st period - English Literature - Brenner, room 26. She located it easily enough and timidly entered the room. So far only three students and the teacher were in there. Anna approached the desk and discreetly cleared her throat.

  Mrs. Brenner, an artistic-looking woman with huge vintage glasses and hair dyed very bright red, looked up and smiled.

  “Oh hi there, you must be our new arrival! Welcome to EHS. I’m Lillian Brenner. We are so glad to have you with us.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Let me see . . . I had a book all ready for you, somewhere around here.” She dug around underneath a pile of papers. Her desk resembled a trailer park after an F5 tornado. “I’m not sure where you left off at your last school, but we’re currently reading a collection of works by Poe. Now what did I do with it . . . I know it’s here somewhere. Oh, there it is!”

  Triumphantly pulling the book from beneath a stack of ungraded tests, she handed it to Anna. “We’re just about to begin The Masque of the Red Death so you’ve come at a good time.”

  “I’ve read it, but it’s one of my favorites.”

  “Wonderful! Well, you can just take a seat wherever you like. There’s no assigned seating in my class. I like to keep things informal.”

  “Okay. Thanks.” Turning to face the classroom, Anna saw that one of the students, a girl with short strawberry blonde hair, was watching the exchange with friendly curiosity.

  “Hey there,” the girl said. “You just transfer here?”

  Anna slid into the desk in front of the girl and dropped her backpack on the floor. “Yes. From Florida.”

  “A beach bunny! Nice. I have a cousin in Florida. She spen
ds all her time tanning. I keep telling her she’s going to wind up with skin cancer, but she doesn’t listen. You don’t look like you have that problem, though.”

  “No, I never really spent much time in the sun. I get sunburned kind of easily.”

  “Yeah, me too. Curse of having fair skin. Even spray tans look stupid on me. So why are you changing schools this late in the year?”

  Anticipating this question, Anna had her fabrication all ready. “My mother’s job transferred her to New York City and I didn’t want to move there, so I came here to stay with my uncle instead. I hate big cities.”

  “Really? I would love to live there! The city that never sleeps, you know? Not like this town. They roll up the sidewalks at ten here. What’s your mom do?”

  What’s she do? Uh-oh. Didn’t think anyone would ask that, did you? Moron! “Oh. She’s . . . um, a fashion designer.” Fashion designer? Really? Is that the best you could come up with?

  “Très chic! My name’s Erica, by the way. Erica Johansen.”

  “Anna Moore.”

  More students were filing into the classroom, most of them sending inquisitive looks her way. She pretended not to notice.

  “What time do you have lunch?” Erica was asking.

  Anna checked her schedule. “Um . . . eleven-thirty.”

  “Perfect, same time as me. What’s your third period class?”

  “Third period? Algebra II.”

  “If you want, I’ll meet you outside Mr. Henderson’s class after the bell and you can have lunch with us. I know it must be kind of freaky being new here and all.”

  “That would be great! I really appreciate it,” Anna said gratefully. “I so wasn’t looking forward to having lunch alone.” Maybe, just maybe, school wouldn’t be a complete disaster this time around. She liked Erica already and, thanks to the makeover courtesy of Uncle Phil and Lisa, so far nobody had looked at her as if they feared she had lice or something.

  So far, so good.

  ****

  Erica was true to her word. As soon as her third period class was over, Anna waited just outside the door and almost immediately spotted the familiar face making her way down the hall toward her. She wasn’t going to have to endure the discomfort of spending lunch period alone. Hail to the strawberry blonde!

  “So what did you think of Mr. Henderson’s toupée?” was the first thing Erica said.

  Anna laughed. Erica’s breezy personality had the effect of putting her at ease. “Toupée? Really? I thought his hair looked a little off-center. Yikes.”

  “Do you need to stop off by your locker?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Oh, I didn’t even think to ask. Did you bring your lunch or do you need me to show you where the cafeteria is? We always eat outside at the picnic tables when it’s not raining.”

  “I brought my lunch.” Relieved that she'd made a turkey sandwich for herself that morning in lieu of Uncle Phil’s offer of lunch money, Anna followed Erica through glass double doors and into a courtyard, where about a dozen picnic tables were scattered. To her astonishment, Erica seated herself at a table already occupied by none other than Alex Somerville, who was sipping a can of Coke. He looked mildly surprised to see her.

  “Anna. Hi.”

  “Hey, Alex.”

  “You two already met, I take it?” Erica opened her lunch bag, pulling out a sandwich wrapped in plastic and a bottle of cranberry juice.

  Anna sat down beside her, across from Alex. “Actually we’re neighbors. My uncle lives right next door to him.”

  “Seriously? That’s awesome! My boyfriend and I hang out at Alex’s house once in a while. You should join us next time so I don’t have to feel completely ignored when they get wrapped up in their lame video games.”

  “Like you’re not always pestering us to do lame stuff,” Alex retorted, popping a grape into his mouth. To Anna, he said, “She made all of us go to her ballet recital. An hour and a half of sheer torture.” Erica raised an eyebrow and gave him a look.

  A lanky, sandy-haired boy appeared at that moment and settled on the other side of Erica, planting a quick kiss on her cheek. Almost simultaneously, a striking raven-haired girl abruptly plopped down beside Alex. She tossed her pink insulated lunch bag on the table unceremoniously.

  “Oh my God, if I get assigned one more page of homework today, I’m going to go postal,” Raven Hair announced. “Do these teachers think we have nothing better to do? I have a life, you know. Do I really need to know how to parse a sentence in French? Is that seriously what they worry about in Paris?” Suddenly noticing Anna, she inquired bluntly, “Who’s this?”

  Erica swallowed a mouthful of cranberry juice and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “This is Anna . . . um, what did you say your last name was?”

  “Moore.”

  “Anna Moore. She just moved here from Florida. Anna, this is my obnoxious friend Karen, and the sexy beast over here is Josh.” Erica poked the boy next to her playfully in his side, and he grinned back at her.

  "Nice to meet you, Anna," Josh said.

  “Oh, wait a minute, weren’t you in second period creative writing today? I thought I’d seen you before.” Without waiting for a reply, Karen began lamenting once again the fact that she had way too much homework and if she made one more D, her parents were going to ground her until she was sixty and someone named Chase would probably dump her for someone who wasn't in permanent isolation. Although it was idiotic, Anna couldn’t help feeling a tiny bit glad that Karen wasn’t Alex’s girlfriend. Then she mentally berated herself for even caring. What did it matter if he had a girlfriend?

  Halfway through lunch, after fifteen minutes of listening to Karen chatter incessantly on the pros and cons of a low-carb diet, a good-looking boy with close-cropped blonde waves sauntered over. He looked as if he belonged on the pages of GQ magazine, or at the very least on a tennis court at some posh country club, and if possible exuded even more arrogance than Creed Somerville. He brazenly slid onto the bench next to Anna, so near that their thighs were touching.

  “Well, if you aren’t just the sexiest thing I’ve seen today. Do you believe in love at first sight?”

  Anna nearly choked on her pretzels. She coughed while Alex watched the theatrics with amused interest and Karen giggled.

  “Run away with me,” the blonde suggested impishly. “We can live on love. I promise you won’t starve.”

  “Get lost, Sebastian,” Erica said. “Nobody here wants to run away with you. Why don’t you run away with your right hand. I’m sure the two of you would be very happy together.”

  “Well, nobody asked you, did they now?” Sebastian rested his chin in his hand and surveyed Anna intently. “And who might you be, besides my future ex-wife?”

  Anna found it hard not to laugh. The guy admittedly had a charming personality, even if he was over-the-top. “I’m nobody’s ex-wife. I might be her future divorce attorney, though.” The picnic table erupted in mirth.

  “Touché.” He stood up to leave, then unexpectedly grabbed her hand, kissing it dramatically. “If you ever come to your senses, my love, I’ll be waiting for you, counting the moments until I possess your heart. Don’t keep me waiting too long! Farewell!” And with a theatrical bow, he left, strolling away with all the aplomb of someone who truly and honestly believes they are God’s gift to the world.

  “What was that all about?” Anna wondered, staring after him in befuddled amazement.

  Karen snorted. “Girl, take my advice, you better stay away from that one. The only thing he wants to possess is your body.”

  “She’s not kidding,” Erica agreed. “The debauchery of Sebastian Westbrook is well known. His personal mission in life is to corrupt as many girls as possible. I guess he gets his kicks that way. He could charm the pants off a marble statue, and he knows it. But trust me, he’s always got an ulterior motive.”

  “Listen to Karen. She used to date him,” Josh announced cheerfully.

  “
Shut up, Josh.” Karen blushed. “We only went out a couple of times. And that was at the beginning of the year.”

  “Seems I remember you flying into hysterics when he dumped you,” Alex affirmed, smirking.

  Karen glared at him. “You can both bite me. And just for the record, he did not ‘corrupt’ me.”

  “Yeah, it was already way too late for that,” Josh teased. Erica slapped him lightly on the arm while Karen threw an empty water bottle his way. By the time lunch period was over, Anna knew already that Uncle Phil was right. She’d never had such an optimistic perspective in her life.

  ****

  During the following weeks, Anna fell into a comfortable pattern of school, homework and a pleasant, newly stable home life. Phil worked mostly from home, reluctant to take any out-of-town consulting jobs until he was confident that his niece was secure enough to leave alone for any length of time. She thought he was being overprotective. It wasn’t as if she’d been permanently traumatized or anything.

  He did spend a couple of Saturday nights at Lisa’s house. Anna wondered how much her presence had cramped their love life. Lisa visited sometimes, but she never stayed the night, which Anna found absurd because if Uncle Phil was spending the night at her place, what difference did it make if she slept at his house?

  She was also getting to know the unique personality of each of her new friends. Already she had secured a place in their small group. Erica, she discovered, was a brilliant student who took a lot of advanced placement classes. As a result, the only class they shared was first period. Driven and ambitious, she spent a lot of time at various club and student council meetings.

  Karen Peterson, who at first had resembled a spoiled, outspoken drama queen, was in actuality a warm and funny person. She constantly kept Anna in stitches with her outrageous stories. Scandalous gossip never missed her ears. They shared second period Creative Writing and fifth period Biology 101, which they both despised. They agreed that nobody cared what a dead frog’s insides looked like. Often they compared their homework during lunch.

  Josh North was the affable type who got along well with everybody at school. He had a cheerful, pleasant personality, enjoyed cracking jokes, and was undeniably devoted to Erica. He also appeared to be Alex’s closest friend. Occasionally Anna would see his truck in the driveway next door. Josh was in her sixth period French class and one day when they had a substitute teacher they spent their study time attempting to learn foreign expletives.

 

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