Falling

by Amber Jaeger

  “Are you kidding me?” I muttered under my breath.

  “Problem, Miss Gray?” our teacher asked.

  My temper and nerves were utterly frayed and I could feel myself losing it. “No, Mr. Sheffer, other than when you made us do this last year you freaked out when you couldn’t get any of us to play right and screamed you’d never bother trying to teach girls football again. I think we all had kind of hoped you would stick to it.”

  Every eye in the gymnasium turned towards me. Even I was surprised. That was the most, and loudest, I had ever spoken in high school. And I never argued with teachers, even when I was right.

  “Go to the principal’s office,” Mr. Sheffer thundered. But his face was red and I could tell he was as embarrassed as he was angry.

  I changed slowly and made my way to the main offices, hoping I would be sent home. But Mrs. Tort intercepted me in the hallway and ushered me into her office with a sugary smile. “I hear you’re having kind of a grumpy day,” she said, pulling a sad puppy dog face.

  I took a breath, forced myself not roll my eyes and said, “Yeah, not the best first day back.”

  “Any reason why?”

  “Hmmm, let’s see. Linc needs me at home right now but I’m stuck here with all of his idiot friends being jerks.”

  “I thought the kids were pretty supportive during this whole thing,” she countered.

  “Yeah,” I agreed,”to each other. He’s my brother, not theirs. They don’t even really seem to care about him; they just want to know when he’ll be back to playing sports. And of course all the girls are happy to throw themselves at him again, not because they really know him, just because he plays sports and is hot. It’s disgusting.”

  Mrs. Tort gave a thin little smile and tapped her chin for a moment before answering. “Sounds like someone is jealous.”

  “Right,” I snapped, snatching my bag off the floor,”I’m totally jealous of my brother whose life has been mangled by some freak accident. I wish I had lost my memory and best friend so the jerk-off twits at this school would pretend to care about me while really just trying to cash in on the attention.”

  “Miss Gray!” she exclaimed, but the door slammed shut on the rest of what she had to say and I was out the front doors of the school before she could make it to the door of her office.

  I pulled on my backpack and cinched it tight as I loped across the front lawn and ran faster and faster, not caring how it looked to anyone. I had to get away.

  I ended up at the beach, the only place I could think of that had water fountains. I drank until my stomach hurt then lay back in the cold sand.

  What the hell was I going to do? Not fall asleep, was the first thing, I thought and sat up. I looked at the bracelets again, twisting and turning them in the sunlight, looking for a seam or any weak spot I could use to get them off. I pulled and pried them and tried to coax them up over my hand but nothing worked. Finally I just cried.

  I didn’t know how to respond to Jordan or what to say to him. I still didn’t even really know how I felt. I had gone into this whole mess just thinking it was a dream my mind had created to deal with losing my brother and not only was it real, it was taking over my life.

  I rubbed my eyes, thinking of all the apologies I would have to make the next day. I was never rude, not even when people totally deserved it. And Linc’s friends didn’t really deserve it. They were shallow and obnoxious but that was how they always were. I knew they really liked Linc and were happy to have him back too.

  That thought slowly pulled me from my misery. Linc was back and that was all that was important. That’s what I had bargained for and that’s what I got. If Jordan seemed to have a little crush on me, it was sure to fade as soon as he really got to know me, and then maybe he’d even just take the bracelets off himself.

  Slightly cheered, I brushed myself off and made my way to the tiny, downtown grocery store, reciting the list of ingredients I would need to make Linc lasagna for dinner.

  “Hey,” I heard behind me, as I scoured the shelves for whole wheat noodles. The store literally had four aisles and I nearly ran into the person talking to me just turning around.

  “Hey,” I replied, surprised to see the bookstore owner.

  He had a box of couscous in his hand. “You dye your hair?” Jack asked.

  I reached up to touch a strand. “Uh, no.”

  “Didn’t think so,” he said.

  “Then why did you ask?”

  “You’re going over there, aren’t you?” he whispered, suddenly in my face.

  I backed down the cramped aisle. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m doing a school report,” I said weakly.

  “Hey,” he told me, holding his hands up,”I’m not trying to be a creeper. But you have to be careful. How you look, it’s changing. And it’ll keep changing and so will other parts of you.”

  That stopped me. “What are you talking about?”

  He pointed to the bracelets. “I’ve seen those before. I can’t be sure but I think whoever put those on is changing you. Maybe to be more like them, to be more attractive? I don’t know.”

  I could feel my nose and eyes start to get stuffy. “I can’t get them off,” I said quietly.

  “You have to try harder. Why did you even put them on?”

  I looked around, making sure no one was right by us, and then stepped closer. “To get my brother back.” I didn’t know if I was crying because I was scared or because I felt so much better telling someone and knowing they believed me. Or maybe because the idea I was so ugly to Jordan he had to change how I looked hurt.

  Jack’s clear gray eyes lit up. “Your brother was in that accident. He was supposed to be dead.”

  I nodded. “I didn’t know, I didn’t think it was real.” I rushed on,”But it doesn’t matter. I got what I wanted; I wouldn’t change having my brother back.”

  Jack nodded this time. “I understand,” he said. “But it’s not going to end well.”

  “How do you know so much?”I asked, knowing he wouldn’t answer me.

  He just smiled and said,”Enjoy your lasagna. Whole wheat noodles are on the bottom shelf.”

  “How did you know I was making lasagna?” I called.

  He gave a smile before he turned out of the aisle but didn’t answer my question.

  “Wait!” I yelled, chasing after him. He was stopped at the cash register and gave a very pointed look towards the clerk.

  “Um,” I stalled, trying to think how to phrase my question. “Do you think anyone else will notice? My hair, I mean?” It hadn’t looked any different that morning, although I had been in such a fog it could have been purple and I might not have noticed.

  “Not right away,” he said. “It’s very subtle.”

  We each paid for our purchases and took off in opposite ways out of the store. I wanted to question him more but I had a feeling the only thing he was going to tell me was to stop going over there and I couldn’t do that.

  My day just kept getting worse.

  Chapter 11

  I WAS GREETED AT THE door by my dad when I got home. “Bixby,” he snarled,”why did I get a call from your school saying you skipped out on your last class?”

  Linc was behind him in the door way making dramatic crying faces, encouraging me to lie. I ignored him and went with the truth. “I had a bad day with everyone questioning me and when I got pulled into the office, I had had enough. You know what a moron Mrs. Tort is, I couldn’t take it. So I left.”

  Dad didn’t seem to know how to argue with that. Mrs. Tort had gotten on his bad side after she tried to make a home visit after the accident. “Well, you’re grounded,” he said.

  “Okay,” I replied, pushing past him.

  “Um, from going out.”

  “That’s what I figured, Dad.” I never went out.

  “And the TV,” he added.

  “No problem there,” I thought.

  “And books,” he shouted, finally coming up
with something he could take away that was actually a punishment to me.

  “I have to read four Flannery O’Connor short stories for English tomorrow. But I promise not to enjoy them,” I said, rolling my eyes safely out of his vision. I had already read them but didn’t mind reading them again for class.

  I tried to get into the bathroom to see my hair for myself but Linc was hovering in the kitchen, snitching cut up veggies, grated cheese and fried sausage as I put the lasagna together. “So how was school?”

  “Fine,” I said absently. “Don’t eat all the cheese.”

  “No, really,” he pressed. “Was everybody bugging you?”

  “A little.”

  “I told them to be nice to you,” he said.

  That explained it. “You don’t have to do that, Linc; they’re your friends, not mine.”

  “Makeup!” he suddenly burst out. “You’re wearing makeup, aren’t you?”

  I made a face at him. “Right, cause I even own makeup.” My hands started shaking as I layered noodles into the pan. If anybody would notice a difference in me it would be Lincoln.

  He was still peering at me. “Oh. It just looks like you have blush on, or mascara or something.”

  “Pretty sure those are two totally different things,” I said. “Besides, maybe I just look a little different because you haven’t really seen me in two weeks,” I lied with a little pang of guilt.

  Lincoln just shrugged and wandered off to the living room but I was starting to panic. Was Jack right? Was Jordan doing something to change how I looked?

  I dumped the rest of the cheese in the pan, threw it in the oven and ran to the bathroom. I flicked on all the lights and looked into the mirror. Nothing seemed any different. I leaned over the counter, looking closely at my eyes and cheeks. Same brown eyes, same pinkish skin. Even the hair falling in my face was the same darkish, blah color.

  I turned my face to the left and the right, ran my fingers through my hair and stared at myself two inches from the mirror. Whatever Jack and Lincoln were seeing, I thankfully didn’t.

  Satisfied, I went back into the kitchen to finish dinner.

  Everyone enjoyed it, Lincoln especially. Even my dad was in a good mood despite getting a call from the school.

  After dinner, I dutifully did the dishes and put the food away. It should have been a relaxing night, reading some of my favorite short stories on the opposite side of the couch where Linc was trying to catch up on his missed school work. Even Grandma was peaceful, casually flipping through her cookbooks over and over again.

  But I wanted to see Jordan again and wanting to see him was scaring me. I still wasn’t completely convinced I hadn’t had a psychiatric break and was a newly minted schizophrenic.

  Just thinking about how sweet he had been the night before made my face flush. But he wasn’t human and I didn’t know him, part of me argued. Most of me agreed. But still, I couldn’t help but glow over the idea that a guy like that wanted to get to know a girl like me. If I didn’t know it was impossible, I would think he had a crush on me. That thought caused my face to catch fire and I hid behind my book, praying Lincoln wouldn’t notice.

  I certainly didn’t have a crush on him. Boys and dating weren’t really my thing. I had never had a boyfriend, never been on a date and never even had a guy interested in me. And when I was interested in someone all I was able to do around them was blush and stutter. And I didn’t do that around Jordan. Well, not as much as usual.

  I looked up from staring at my book to see Lincoln staring at me. “What?” I asked defensively.

  He just shrugged and went back to his school work. I flipped a page to keep up my pretense of reading.

  I didn’t even bother trying to focus on the words, just went right to analyzing every word Jordan had ever said to me. I knew he wasn’t interested in me; he had made it pretty clear he was just looking for someone’s brain to pick. And that was pretty much the only reason any guy ever talked to me, they needed help with homework or wanted to be in my group for group projects.

  And then there was his admission of spying. Part of me knew that was creepy but another part was a little flattered he was so curious about me. And it was nice to think one person, or not-person, thought my vibrant dreams were interesting and not just weird.

  And he had hugged me. Just thinking about it made warm flutters explode in stomach. I tried to push them back down. A hug didn’t mean anything, maybe he was just a nice person. Well, not a person exactly.

  “Hello?” Lincoln yelled, pulling my book down.

  “What?” I snapped, willing my cheeks to return to their normal color.

  “Geesh, did you not hear me tell you ten times Grandma wanted to go to bed?”

  “Sorry,” I muttered, getting off the couch.

  Getting Grandma into bed was easy for once and I jumped into my own as soon as heard her snores.

  I lay in bed forever, looking at the bright blue numbers on my alarm clock and glowing orange street lamp outside one of my windows. I didn’t even notice when I finally drifted off, just suddenly realized I had been hearing a fire burning for some time.

  Chapter 12

  EXCITED AND NERVOUS, I OPENED my eyes to find Ash peering at me. “What?” I snapped, not for the first time that day. Or night? I tried to figure out my days and nights while Ash continued to look at me.

  “I think I have found the perfect dress for your hair color,” she said, turning towards the wardrobe. She bent in and pulled out a mossy green dress that crossed over the bust and tied in the back. The overlapping layers in the front tapered to a longer back that would end mid calf. “What do you think?”

  “Perfect,” I breathed, not believing I was saying that about a dress.

  Ash’s face lit up. “Can I do your hair as well?”

  I tried to shrug nonchalantly but really I wanted to look nice for him.

  She helped me into the dress and carefully braided my hair around my head, letting the long end sweep over my shoulder. When she sat back satisfied, I leaned in towards the mirror. My hair was definitely a shade more auburn and my eyelashes seemed darker and thicker. I turned my head side to side, noticing a new rosiness in my cheeks that matched a new rosiness in my lips. “Is this how I looked the first time I came here?”

  “Of course not, you looked like a petrified albino kitten.”

  I snorted at that and she laughed out loud.

  “So where are we going tonight?” I asked.

  Ash smiled and shook her head, leading me out the door. We went back down to the huge main room and I cringed at having another emotional outburst for everyone to witness. But she breezed right through it, turning left down a dark narrow hall. I followed behind, starting to fear I was going to finally see the dungeon I had been imagining until I began breathing in the most wonderful smells: roasted meats and vegetables, pungent onions and yeasty bread.

  The hall opened into a kitchen nearly the size of the main hall. Huge hearths lined one side and massive butcher blocks and marble tables marched down the middle. Surprisingly current stoves ran along the back wall and seated at a giant workspace in front of them was Jordan.

  I tried to suppress my smile but couldn’t. Again his answering smile was brilliant and my knees wobbled a little. “Oh come on, get it together,” I mumbled under my breath, still smiling. I was not some adorably klutzy girl in need of a strong man to be my hero, which was a good thing, cause I was pretty sure that was never going to happen for me anyway.

  “Still in a good mood?” Jordan asked. Ash had silently disappeared.

  “Yeah,” I mumbled, not able to make eye contact.

  “I was worried when you left,” he said softly.

  I eyed all the produce in the baskets on the countertops. “Um, yeah, sorry about that, I guess I was just having a bad day.”

  “Bixby,” Jordan said, grabbing my hand. “You don’t have to be strong for me. I’m not your brother or grandma or dad. I’m just your friend. If you’re ha
ving a hard time, I want you tell me, not hide it from me.”

  I blinked hard, cursing my leaky eyes. No had ever said anything like that to me, not needed me to do or be something for them since my mom had died. “Thanks. I’m fine today, really. So what’s up with meeting in the kitchen?” I grimaced at my clumsy attempt to change the conversation but Jordan gracefully played along.

  “Well, I was hoping you would make me something, if that’s all right. You really seem to love cooking.” I eyed him, wondering what situation he had spied on till I remembered I had actually told him that.

  “Okay, what do you want me to make?”

  “No, I want you to make me one of your favorites,” he said, leaning back on the tall stool he sat in.

  I looked around the kitchen, taking in the foods, the equipment available and thinking through all recipes I had memorized. “Do you have spices?” I finally asked.

  He led me to them, small glass jars lined up on tiny shelves taking up an entire wall. Printed on the edge of the shelf beneath each one was the name of the spice above. I looked around again, noting apples and wooden canisters of flour and sugar. “All right, have a seat, let me work my magic.”

  Jordan smiled and sat back while I gathered the apples and a sharp knife. I worked quietly, getting more nervous as the silence lengthened. Looking up I saw him watching me, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

  “What?” I asked, exasperated. Was that only thing I was going to say today?

  “Nothing, I just like watching you.” My face flushed and I peeled more furiously, almost slicing off the skin of my thumb. “Careful,” he murmured. “Do I make you nervous?”

  “No,” I lied. “Don’t you have some questions you should be asking me?”

  “Always.”

  “Well, fire away.”

  “Fire away?”

  “It’s a figure of speech, it means go ahead, ask.”

  He rubbed a hand over his chin before asking. “What do you do during the day?”