After school, Rory caught a ride home with Monica. But instead of going inside her house, Rory immediately took off down the street to Sheck’s place.
The Jacksons lived in a neat, two-storey brick house. It had a quaint wrap-around veranda and a tidy, picturesque garden full of red roses out front. Rory had often thought that the house belonged in one of those boring old lady magazines that feature beautiful city lofts and pretty little cottages and the like. While the Jackson home might be a little too “perfect” and “cookie-cutter” for Rory’s own personal taste, there was no denying that it was charming in every way.
Rory immediately noticed that Sheck’s car was missing from the driveway. Even so, she rang the bell, hoping that there was a good explanation for his absence.
“Rory! Hi!” Sheck’s mother Val flung open the door. She was wearing a stylish blue top and curve-hugging, straight-legged dark wash jeans. Rory thought to herself for the millionth time that Sheck had the coolest parents.
Val was the editor of a popular women’s blog and worked from home. Rory had her suspicions that as a teenager, Val had probably had a bit of a wild streak. That made it all the more ironic that she was now married to a law-abiding, stickler-for-the-rules police officer.
While Sheck’s dad Clive wasn’t quite as hip as his wife, he was a fun, dependable guy with a quick witted sense of humor. He was a great storyteller and Rory loved listening to his comical anecdotes even though Sheck complained that he’d heard them all a million times before.
Val had confided to Rory that she and Clive had always wanted a daughter. It was clear that they thought of the O’Neil girls as their own, opening their home and hearts to them. Rory was especially close with Val, thinking of her as a second mother or maybe a cool older sister.
Even though they were about the same age as Rory’s parents, Val and Clive seemed much younger and Val in particular, seemed a lot more fun. Rory desperately hoped she’d be like Val when she was older.
“Hey Val, is Sheck home?”
Val looked puzzled, raising one perfectly plucked eyebrow and pursing her full lips. “I thought he had to stay late at school for something today. Band practice, I think he said…?”
“Oh. Yeah. I must have forgotten,” Rory replied carefully. She knew very well that Sheck had dropped out of band several weeks earlier, claiming he preferred to just play his guitar on his own time…but she was reluctant to rat him out. “Can you tell him I stopped by?”
“Of course I will.” Val paused and then opened the door wider. “Will you come in for a while? I was just fixing a snack, if you’re hungry...”
Rory suddenly realized that she was famished, having consumed nothing but celery, an apple and a diet soda that day. Her algebra teacher had inexplicably and uncharacteristically stayed put behind his desk for the entire class, so she hadn’t been able to make her daily pilgrimage to the vending machine.
“Sure,” she replied, stepping inside and dropping her backpack on the floor beside an old pair of Sheck’s sneakers. “What are we having?”
* * * * *
Several minutes later, Rory found herself walking toward the Jacksons’ living room with a plate heaped with crackers, cheese and olives in her hand. She was surprised to find the sofa bed pulled out and made up. Val followed her gaze and seemed flustered when she realized what Rory was looking at.
“Sheck’s dad has been sleeping there,” she explained, looking like she wanted to cry.
“Oh,” Rory replied, finding it a bit odd that Val was suddenly referring to Clive as Sheck’s Dad. To Rory, he’d always just been Clive. “I thought he was done working night shifts now.”
Val hesitated. “He is,” she said slowly, choosing her words with care. “Just between you and me, we’re, uh, going through a bit of a rough patch right now.” Val closed her eyes briefly, her thick eyelashes stealthily concealing any telltale tears that might be threatening to make an appearance.
“Oh.” Rory didn’t know what else to say, so she crammed some more crackers in her mouth and chewed them for longer than she needed to, buying herself some time. Sheck had mentioned that his parents were arguing a lot, but didn’t all married couples get on each others’ nerves and fight with each other from time to time?
Sheck hadn’t mentioned that his dad was sleeping on the couch. Rory wondered how long that had been going on for, but couldn’t think of a polite way to ask. And besides, she felt like it really wasn’t any of her business.
“Does Sheck seem okay to you?” Val asked anxiously, biting her lower lip. “He’s out of the house so much that I rarely see him these days. I guess he has a lot going on at school, what with all the extracurricular activities he’s taken up lately. I just worry about him these days.”
Rory almost choked on her mouthful of overly chewed cracker mush. As far as she knew, Sheck wasn’t involved in a single extracurricular activity. While he was a friendly, good natured guy who basically got along with everybody, he was maybe a little too laid back for organized after school activities. He’d always preferred to play his guitar, skateboard or wander around the mall.
“I, uh...yeah, he seems fine I guess,” Rory finally managed to sputter, swallowing hard. “I’d better be getting home though. Thanks for the snack.”
* * * * *
When Rory got home, she dug through her closet and pulled together the perfect outfit for Rebecca to wear to the party. It helped take her mind off Sheck and what his parents were going through…kind of.
Although some of Rory’s friends really slutted it up at parties, she knew that her sister wouldn’t be comfortable in anything revealing or overtly sexy. Instead, Rory chose a knee-length black pencil skirt and a form fitting purple top with three quarter length sleeves and just a hint of shimmer in the silky fabric. She took them to her sister’s room.
“Here,” she said, thrusting the clothes at Rebecca with no further explanation.
“Um…what’s this?”
“We’re planning your outfit for the party. Try them on.”
Incredulously, Rebecca said, “Let me get this straight. You plan your outfits days in advance?”
“Just try the damn clothes on!” The truth was Rory had been agonizing over what she’d wear for days. But of course she wasn’t about to admit that to her sister.
Rebecca stepped out of her room a moment later looking uncertain. Rory didn’t know what for. She’d kill to have a slender, athletic figure like Rebecca’s and yet her sister didn’t even seem to recognize how lucky she was.
“What’s the problem?” Rory demanded.
“I don’t know about this,” Rebecca tugged at the skirt self-consciously. “Is it supposed to be this tight? Won’t it, you know,” she lowered her voice, “make everyone stare at my butt?”
Rory smirked. “Yes. That’s exactly what we’re going for. You can borrow my black knee high boots to wear with it. Oh, and my black leather belt! That will look hot. Now what should we do about your hair and makeup?”
Rebecca cleared her throat, unsuccessfully trying to suppress a persistent cough. “I don’t really wear makeup,” she reminded her sister. “I look like a clown when I try to put it on myself. And I don’t know how to style my hair...I can never make it look like yours.”
“That’s okay,” Rory assured her. “I can help. Hey, let’s do a trial run right now – it will be fun!” If there was one thing she loved doing, it was hair and makeup.
Thirty minutes later, Rory had to admit that with just a little help, her normally all natural sister was a knockout. The brown mascara she’d applied made Rebecca’s green eyes pop, and with a little mousse, her blonde curls fell softly around her shoulders.
“You’re lucky I don’t cut your hair off in your sleep,” Rory grumbled.
“Why would you do that?”
“In a jealous fit of rage, duh!” Rory replied as though that would be a perfectly normal and mature thing to do. “Do you know how much time it takes me to get curls like you
rs? Half the time they don’t even stay in, anyway! I spend most mornings ranting and raving at my hair like a lunatic…I’ve called it every name in the book.”
“There’s nothing wrong with your hair,” Rebecca replied distractedly. Her attention was focused on the mirror hanging on the wall. In fact, she couldn’t seem to look away. “You’re like some kind of magician,” she marvelled. “I look completely different.”
“My magic wand is a tube of lipstick,” Rory quipped. “You know, you really don’t look that much different…just more polished. It’s still you in there.”
Rebecca was too busy examining her longer, darker looking eyelashes to reply.
“Alright, so we’ll do this again on Friday before the party,” Rory promised.
“Do you think you could make my hair look like yours?” Rebecca asked hopefully.
“You’re crazy to want hair like mine,” Rory retorted. “But yes, we can give the straightening iron a whirl if you want.”
Rory felt lighter than she had in ages as she left her sister’s room to go watch her favourite soap opera on TV. It felt good to spend time with Rebecca again – it vaguely reminded her of when they were inseparable little kids. It also felt good to do something nice for someone just because she could.
She made a mental note to hang out with her sister more often.
* * * * *
Rory tried calling Sheck all evening, but his phone was off. She left voicemails. She sent texts. No response. She wasn’t sure if she should be angry or concerned. Then, finally, Sheck sent her a text at midnight, waking her up. The text simply said “OPN UR WNDW.”
Rory rolled out of bed and opened the window. Sheck was standing on the lawn staring up at her. He waved and started to climb the tree. As he climbed towards Rory’s window, he slipped and banged his head on the windowsill. “Ow!” he hissed, rubbing his temple.
“You okay?” Rory asked, helping him inside. Though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it, something about him seemed off, somehow. It was also unusual for him to stop by so late on a school night. Or at least it used to be. These days it seemed to have become the new normal.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sunk down to the floor and yawned. His clothes were rumpled, he looked exhausted and he needed a shave. Judging from the greasy state of his hair, he needed a shower, too. “Hey, can I have something to eat? I’m starving.”
“Sure, I’ll be right back.” With that, Rory slipped down to the kitchen as quietly as she could and found some leftover pizza and a bottle of iced tea in the fridge for Sheck. When she got back to her bedroom, he was curled up on the floor at the foot of her bed with his jacket draped over him, nearly asleep.
Rory nudged Sheck with her foot. “Here’s your food,” she whispered, shoving it toward him.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He picked up the iced tea, unscrewed the cap and downed most of the jug all in one go without coming up for air. “Did I wake you up when I texted you? I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was so late.”
Rory squinted at Sheck as he practically inhaled the pizza. He was slurring his words. He looked like hell. He didn’t seem like himself. “What’s up with you?” she demanded, concerned. “Where were you today?”
“Around,” Sheck studied the pizza crust he held between his fingers, avoiding her gaze. He was being evasive. Rory wasn’t letting him off the hook that easily. If there was one thing she was good at, it was recognizing bullshit.
“No really, where were you?”
Sheck stifled another yawn. “I drove out to Cricket Lake last night,” he admitted. “I fell asleep in my car and then decided to stay out there today. It beat spending all day sitting in class being bored to death.”
Well, that explained why he looked so exhausted. “What did you do all day?” Rory asked. It was too cold to go swimming, Sheck didn’t fish and the leisure centre up there didn’t open until the end of May when people started camping and going to their lakeside cottages for weekend getaways. She couldn’t imagine spending the whole day there with no electricity and no one to talk to.
“I mostly just sat in my car and listened to music and got high,” Sheck confessed, reminding Rory of a puppy that knows it’s been bad and is in for a scolding. “I didn’t drive back until I’d come down,” he added quickly. After a moment of hesitation, he added, “but I did light up again in the driveway when I got home.”
“You were smoking pot?” Rory asked, surprised. Even though Sheck hung around with a few known stoners at the skate park from time to time, she didn’t know he was into that. She’d never tried anything other than wine coolers and beer. “What’s it like?”
Sheck grinned sleepily, dimples on display. “The best,” he replied. “It makes you not care about anything. I need that right now.”
He cleared his throat and then informed his best friend in a small, childlike voice, “My dad moved out last night. He...he’d been sleeping on the couch for a while, and they were fighting all the time...but yeah, he’s gone now.”
Rory was stunned. She hadn’t seen it coming, not even after her conversation with Val. She’d always admired the way Sheck’s parents seemed completely, utterly in love, sometimes staring at each other like they were still infatuated teenagers. She wondered if Sheck had been as blindsided by it as she was.
A million questions were swirling around in her head. Why had Sheck’s parents split up? She knew from observing her own parents that married couples got on each others’ nerves and argued sometimes, but what had been so bad that the Jacksons had decided to call it quits? Where had Clive gone? How was Val taking it?
Rory finally settled on a question that was, more than anything, intended to offer some hope. “Maybe it’s only temporary? Maybe they just need some space and he’ll come back in a few days?”
Sheck looked like he was fighting back tears. Rory knew that even though he good-naturedly complained about his longwinded stories, Sheck had always idolized Clive. “He took his hockey sticks and everything,” he replied, his voice sounding strained.
Rory felt defeated. That did sound serious.
Sheck stretched and set his now-empty plate on Rory’s desk, barely managing to find an empty space due to all the makeup. “Do you mind if I stay here tonight?” he asked, practically begging. “I really don’t want to go home.”
Rory shrugged. “Sure.” He grabbed a pillow off her bed but made no move to get up.
She hesitated and then offered, “You can get in the bed, you know.” It was a double and there was plenty of room for them both. In fact, they’d had sleepovers in that very bed as children, Sheck sneaking out of Justin’s bedroom in the dead of night to make shadow puppets on the walls with Rory.
“I’m good here,” Sheck replied from where he was curled up on the floor.
“Okay.” Rory shut off the light and climbed into bed. She was relieved to finally be under the cover of darkness. It meant she didn’t have to try to keep the shocked expression off her face or the sadness out of her eyes.
She just couldn’t believe Clive had moved out. If Val and Clive of all people couldn’t make it work, then that didn’t leave much hope for the rest of the world. It didn’t leave much hope for Rory.
She wasn’t positive but she thought Sheck might be crying. She’d never heard him cry before except for one time when they were in the third grade and found a dead bird in his backyard. She listened helplessly, her heart breaking for him. Part of her wanted to say something but she had no idea what she could possibly say.
Besides, she didn’t want to embarrass Sheck. He wasn’t exactly the crying type.
Eventually, Sheck’s breathing regulated, becoming slow and deep. Rory knew he’d finally fallen asleep. She sighed deeply and was surprised to realize she’d been holding her breath.
Sleep didn’t come easily for Rory. She remained awake for a long time, thinking. Sheck clearly wasn’t okay. She was positive he must be hurting terribly. She wished she knew
what she could do to help him but maybe he just needed to work through things himself.
Sometimes, she reasoned, there just were no easy answers.
CHAPTER 04
Thursday started out like any other school day. Rory chugged a completely unsatisfying diet shake that tasted like chalk on the drive to school. Then she spent so long loitering in the hallway chatting with friends that she was late to first period. She also slipped on a puddle of water – oh God, she hoped it was water – in the hallway and popped a button off her blouse in the midst of her somewhat successful attempt to not fall over. It was pretty typical.
Or at least it was until about halfway through Mr. Fanning’s second period history class. That was when everything began to unravel.
Mr. Fanning was about seven hundred years old and deaf as a doorknob. He’d sit at his desk up front with his eyes shut, loudly lecturing the class about...well, Rory didn’t really listen, so she wasn’t quite sure what he rambled on about – probably wars or something.
She supposed he closed his eyes because he was reciting old stories he knew by heart, but the effect it had was that the students were pretty much able to get away with murder.
A lot of Rory’s friends were in second period history class with her. Usually she and Hilary would spend the entire class gossiping while Rory tried to inconspicuously lean forward and peer out the door. Carson was in the class across the hall. Sometimes she’d catch glimpses of him or, if both classroom doors happened to be open, occasionally hear his voice if the teacher asked him the answer to a question.
Hilary, of course, resented being ignored. Sometimes Rory would stop listening to her entirely as she focused on Carson. When that happened, Hilary got meaner. She liked to act out and if someone or something had pissed her off then her reckless behavior only escalated.
Lately Hilary had taken to shamelessly flirting with the shy glee club kid whose desk was behind hers. She wasn’t interested in him, of course. She just liked to make him blush. She claimed it was an experiment to determine whether he was gay, but Rory secretly suspected that Hilary just enjoyed tormenting people for no reason at all.
Catalyst (The Best Days #1) Page 5
