“Okay, then…” He tucked his hand back in his pocket.
I turned to smile at Paige, who stood next to me. Even when my demeanor was at its coldest, she managed to brighten my spirits.
“Hey, you,” she said brightly.
“So come on, spill the details!” Celia gushed.
“I’d rather not talk about it.”
“Dude, you got Jeff suspended from the only thing he cares about in the world—what’s not to be proud of?” Malcolm asked.
“I dunno. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
“Don’t be such a killjoy,” Celia said.
“So has anyone heard anything more about the missing girl?” Paige asked, mercifully changing the subject.
Everyone shook their heads.
“She’ll be dead soon,” insisted Malcolm.
“Wow, someone woke up on the grim side of the bed,” Paige teased.
“For real, I have this weird feeling about it,” he replied.
“And you know this, how?” Celia asked.
“I don’t know, I just do. Mark my words.”
“Consider them marked,” Celia laughed.
Paige giggled.
Malcolm looked to me for support. “Come on, you believe me. Right, Noah?”
Oddly enough, I did. Something about his sincerity threw me off. I couldn’t explain why, but I believed him. “Yeah, man.”
“Well aren’t you a pair of psychics,” Celia mumbled sarcastically.
“Lighten up, Celia,” I responded.
“I’m not the one who’s been moody and moping around for the last couple weeks. What’s wrong, Noah? Got PMS?”
“Celia,” Paige scolded softly.
“What is your problem?” I asked. Okay, so I hadn’t exactly been a ray of sunshine of late, but her recent attitude had been off the charts.
Celia threw her hands up defensively and shook her head.
“Nothing!” she said in the exasperated tone that could mean only that it was, in fact, not nothing.
Malcolm, ever the peacemaker, quickly changed the subject. “So, I asked Classie to prom!” he blurted out.
That got everyone’s attention—especially Celia’s.
“You what?” she asked coldly.
I had a feeling that his best attempts notwithstanding, Malcolm had just made the situation worse. Paige and I exchanged glances, though Paige appeared more uncomfortable than surprised.
Malcolm was taken aback. “Um, I asked Classie to the prom?” he repeated carefully, unsure as to where he had made an error.
Celia swallowed hard as if she were fighting back something. Tears? Anger? Confusion? Then, she blinked a few times and quickly composed herself. “I see. What did she say?” she asked pointedly.
“She said yes.” Malcolm smiled.
Nodding slightly, Celia pursed her lips and excused herself, mumbling something about cramming for a quiz. Malcolm and I stared after her as she hastily made her exit.
Malcolm turned to Paige and me. “What was that all about?”
We both looked at Paige.
She turned bright red and sighed. “She thought you were going to ask her,” Paige said quietly.
“What? What gave her that idea?” Malcolm replied.
“Well, I guess she thought you guys had, you know, history.”
“History?” Malcolm asked.
“Noah? Help?” she pleaded.
“Sorry, Paige, I’m with Malcolm on this one. What history?”
“You have to know she’s always liked you.”
Malcolm shook his head in disbelief. “I do? Sorry Paige, this is kind of news to me.” So much for his magical intuition.
“I knew she liked him at one point, but I thought that was in eighth grade,” I interjected. “I thought she was way over him.”
“Seriously? You guys had no idea?”
Malcolm and I exchanged glances, then simultaneously said, “No.”
Paige was dumbfounded. “Wow, guys are clueless,” she muttered. “I’m going to talk to her. I’ll catch you guys later.” She quickly gathered her books and snatched an apple out of her locker. Shoving the fruit into her bag, she hurried down the hall, her ponytail bouncing lightly. I loved that girl.
“So how come you asked Classie?”
Malcolm shrugged.
“I think she’s cute and I kind of like her.”
“You barely know her!” I laughed.
“Yeah, well, I want to get to know her better,” Malcolm said, smiling shyly.
“Fair enough. What are you going to do about Celia though?”
“I don’t know. I seriously had no clue she still liked me.”
“Yeah, neither did I. I can’t really vouch for her taste in guys.”
“You’re just jealous that I’m so much more of a stud than you!” Malcolm joked.
“Yeah, uh-huh, you know you’re talking to the guy who stood up to Jeff this morning,” I shot back.
“Oh! Look who finally wants to talk about it!” Malcolm laughed his infectious full-belly laugh, and I couldn’t help joining in.
I shook my head slightly. When the laughter died down, I looked at him earnestly. “I don’t want to talk about it, actually.”
“Of course you don’t.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
He leaned in close and spoke in a sudden harsh whisper. “I mean I know the deepest, darkest thing about you and yet, you don’t seem to trust me with anything.”
“It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t want to drag you into my mess.”
“Isn’t that the whole point of friends? To have someone to go through messes with?”
“This is different.”
“How is it different?”
“Come on, Malcolm, don’t do this.”
“Don’t do what? How many different ways can I say I’m just trying to be your friend? How many times are you going to push me away when I know there’s something big going on with you?”
“I don’t want to burden you with all of this. It’s enough to put it all on my mom.”
“Whatever, dude.”
Something about him was making my blood boil. Wasn’t he just trying to help me? There was still something off between us. Something I just couldn’t put my finger on.
****
As I walked into history class, Paige bounced up from her chair and met me at the front of the room. She smiled up at me.
“How’s Celia doing?” I asked. Paige shrugged. “She’s upset but she’ll be okay.”
“She will?”
“Yeah, we’re going dress shopping tomorrow and shopping always cheers her up.”
“Even without a date lined up?”
“Oh, don’t think she’s going to sit around doing nothing, waiting for someone to ask. She always has a backup plan. I think her latest one involves seducing Aaron Stone.”
“That’s Celia for you.”
Paige giggled and led me to our tandem seats in the middle of the classroom (a respectable distance from the windows—she’d picked up on that habit pretty quickly). As I settled into my chair, Paige turned to me with an air of nervous excitement.
“So, you ready?” she asked.
“Ready for what?”
I saw her face fall ever so slightly. “Our presentation,” she said. She was studying my face, obviously trying to gauge by my reaction whether I’d totally messed up and forgotten all about it.
I had.
She noticed.
Still, I tried to hide my surprise. “Oh, yeah, of course. So ready.”
“Noah!” she pleaded, suddenly panicked. “This is thirty percent of our grade!”
“I know, I know, it’s fine.”
“Did you study at all?”
“Umm…”
“You’re killing me.”
“I’m sorry, I forgot. Can’t I just read off the note cards?”
She smacked her palm against her forehead in frustratio
n. “We don’t have note cards. We have to memorize and present using the board without cards, otherwise we get docked a whole letter grade,” she explained.
“A whole letter grade? That seems harsh.”
“That’s Mr. Halstead for you.”
“Um, well, can’t I just sort of follow along with the info we laid out on the board?” I felt really bad, but to be fair, I did have a lot going on. There was just no way I could tell her that.
Paige shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to.”
In her doubt and poutiness, she was absolutely adorable. She cared so much about this grade. I wanted to tell her it wasn’t a big deal. That she’d be fine. I wanted to let her know that there were far bigger forces at work in her world than those of a history teacher’s grading pen.
Chapter 14
“So what happened in history today?” Malcolm inquired. He had dropped by my house after school.
“You ran into Paige, huh?” I surmised.
“She seemed sort of annoyed.”
“She didn’t say anything though?”
“Just that she was having a bad day.” Malcolm shrugged.
Could have been worse. I figured I wasn’t totally in the doghouse…yet. “I kind of messed up our history project.”
“Wow, I doubt that went over well,” he chuckled.
“Yeah, yeah, I know. I was just kind of distracted. She’ll forgive me though. I’m pretty sure.”
“Has she canceled on tomorrow night?”
“What’s tomorrow night?” I was genuinely confused.
He gave me a quick punch on the arm and a look mixed with incredulity and amusement. “If you’re not in trouble now, you sure would have been if you forgot that we’re going to the movies tomorrow night with Paige and Celia.”
I flung myself backward on my bed and smacked my forehead. “Oh man, that’s right! I’m so glad you reminded me!” In truth, I totally didn’t remember making plans. I must have been more distracted than I thought.
“What are friends for?”
By the following evening, everything seemed almost back to normal. It was as busy a Saturday night as Whitehaven ever saw, with the weather beginning to thaw and the fog beating a retreat as the warmer months approached.
And with the warmer months came longer days and shorter shorts. Let’s be real here, one of the best parts about summer, aside from the languorous and indulgent pace, is the shorts. And the skirts. And the bikinis, of course.
So, needless to say, when Paige showed up at the movie theater in tight checkered shorts and a black tank top with a barely-there knit cardigan, I was thrilled.
She and Celia strolled up to Malcolm and me, who were waiting oh-sopatiently outside the theater. Celia was really working it, considering the semi warm night. She wore a bright green tube top and a denim miniskirt. It was a little out of place, even for the senior girls’ scene.
Malcolm didn’t seem to mind. “Good eve, m’ladies,” he crooned.
“Sir Malcolm. Sir Noah,” Paige responded formally as she mock curtsied.
I, being the gentleman, bowed and gave her my most debonair smile. She let a delicious little giggle ring out. This indicated to me that she was over the whole history project fiasco. Seeing as Mr. Halstead absolutely loved her, I figured my general bumbling ignorance wouldn’t have that much of an impact on our grade.
Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Celia flashing a winning smile at Malcolm as they chatted. She even did the head-throw-back laugh at something he said. And I knew for a fact Malcolm wasn’t that funny. She must have had it bad for him, even after the Classie-Prom fiasco.
I wondered if she knew that Malcolm thought that this counted as a hangout, not a date. I hoped for Malcolm’s sake that she’d realize this sooner rather than later. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl embarrassed in front of her friends and the guy she likes. The only creature more frightening than that, in my opinion, is a territorial hippo. Those things are freaky!
We strolled up to the ticket booth and spent a good ten minutes debating between the new Mandy Moore movie (No, thanks.) and the new Kellan Lutz action flick (Yes, please.). The girls fought a valiant battle in favor of the romantic comedy, but when Malcolm pointed out that Kellan Lutz was going to be shirtless for half the movie, that suddenly trumped Mandy’s quirky musings on relationships.
Once the movie was settled, we needed refreshments. The theater was pretty packed, so we decided that Paige and I would stand in line for snacks, while Celia and Malcolm saved us seats. We divvied up the ticket stubs and parted ways.
“Don’t forget the extra butter!” Malcolm called out as he walked briskly with Celia, headed for theater seven.
As soon as they turned the corner, Paige stuck her tongue out and scrunched her face up. “Extra butter! Gross! You know that stuff isn’t even butter? It’s just runny, nasty chemicals!”
I chuckled to myself as she ranted about how disgusting fake movie theater butter was. Truth was, I would have given a lot to be able to taste it the way I used to. I was partial to those runny, nasty chemicals. At least I used to be.
“Are you getting anything?” she asked, apparently finished with her diatribe.
“Nah, I ate before I came.” Up until now, I’d felt like my normal self again.
“Not even some candy? I think there’s a pack of gummy bears in there calling your name,” she teased.
“Don’t have much of a sweet tooth lately.” More of a blood tooth, actually.
“That’s too bad. Guess I’m going to have to eat those gummy bears all by myself!”
“I’m sure they’ll enjoy your mouth much more than mine,” I blurted out.
Her eyebrow raised a tad.
I realized how stupid that sounded. “Uh, I mean…I’m sorry, that’s kind of awkward…” I apologized.
“Kinda,” she laughed. She smiled ever so slyly before facing forward and placing her order with the red-faced, stressed-out freshman kid manning the concession stand.
As we were trying to navigate our way through the crowd while delicately balancing two large and one small popcorn buckets, three large sodas, a packet of Raisinets (Celia was under the impression that these were healthy), something caught my eye. A brief glimpse of brilliant golden hair.
Before I even had time to process what I thought I had just seen, something in my subconscious was suddenly hell-bent on finding the source.
Normally I wouldn’t have thought twice. It was a bustling Saturday night at the local theater and blond was a common hair color. But I knew in an instant that what I glimpsed was not just another blond girl. It felt like I was having a major déjà vu. But how could I have been experiencing something again if I’d never experienced it before? How was that possible? How did I know that this was important? My body was rooted to the dirty, carpeted ground, my eyes scanning the entire room, searching for another hint, another trace, of Doublehelix.
Without realizing it, I started to drift away from theater seven and Paige. I was in a daze. Arms full of junk food, I began to meander through the crowd in the direction I had last seen the hair.
Everything slowed down around me. My senses became extremely heightened. I could hear every crunch of popcorn, every squeaky swing of a bathroom door. I could smell every individual scent of perfume, body spray, and cologne that people donned to mask their natural odor. I could see everything clearly, except that which I most needed to see. I needed to find out to whom the blond hair belonged. Yet, as the seconds slipped away, so too did the strength of the haze I was in. It was like I had known for a split second where I needed to go to find her, but as soon as that millisecond passed, I was once again lost and wandering.
That was exactly how Paige found me, less than a minute later, standing near a corner, looking confused. “There you are! What happened?” Paige questioned.
Suddenly I snapped out of it. Everyone was moving at a normal, busy pace. All I could hear was the general din of the lobby. The smell of popcorn
and sweat was most prevalent. I glanced down to see a confused look on Paige’s face as she waited anxiously for me to walk her into the theater.
“Nothing,” I lied. “I just thought I saw someone I knew.”
“Oh. Come on, the movie’s starting!” she said cheerily. She nodded her head for me to follow her and then started weaving her way through the stream of people, checking back every few seconds to see if I was still tailing her.
I trailed after her faithfully, but my mind was elsewhere. Here I was, at the movies, on a date with the love of my life—the beautiful and sprightly Paige, who shined like a beacon through the darkness of my life—and all I could think about was this mysterious blond girl who had infiltrated my house, my life, my thoughts.
To be perfectly honest, the night sucked. It was no fault of Paige’s. Someone was playing mind games with me and I was losing, badly. Granted, I’d been dealt a really bad hand. I was forever now a creature of the night. I had lied to my best friend. I needed my mother to risk her job and her reputation to keep my appetite in check.
And yet, I overcame. Daily.
I overcame what I believed to be an uncontrollable urge to feed on everything that moves. I overcame my fear of telling Malcolm about my situation (granted, my hand was sort of forced there). I overcame the shock and dismay of randomly turning into a butterfly (which hadn’t happened in awhile, knock on wood). I overcame the fear of rejection and finally went for the girl I’d loved ever since I could spell l-o-v-e. And here I was, after everything, screwing it up.
As if on cue, toward the end of the film, Paige reached her skinny little hand up from her lap and rested it tentatively on mine.
I flinched. The touch of her hand was so soft and warm and unexpected that I was taken by surprise. She, however, misunderstood my reaction and quickly withdrew, resting her hand safely, rejected, back on her leg. I swallowed with regret but idiot that I was, I did nothing to explain.
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