by Paul, JL
Chapter Nine
The next few days passed uneventfully, allowing me to relax. The whispering still went on around me, but it had started to die down already and was easy to ignore.
But the looks continued – especially as Fin usually accompanied me in the halls during passing periods, laughing and joking with me.
I was actually sort of … well, not exactly happy but more…content. I had started to settle in even though I hadn’t made many friends and wasn’t totally accepted. I was a little surprised by how fine that was with me. I liked my little ragtag lunch group even if they weren’t the sort of people I used to surround myself with - they were unassuming and very amusing. I knew that if I put a little more effort into it, Damon and I could be better friends – almost best friends. He was patient, giving me much needed space and that, more than anything else, was best friend material.
And Fin – well, I wasn’t quite ready to put a label on that yet. We were friends, too, but possibly a bit more. I didn’t know if that was something I wanted at the moment, but I wasn’t totally against the idea.
“You don’t have to work tonight, right?” Fin asked at lunch Thursday, pulling my head back to the cafeteria.
“No,” I said, warily.
Reg was sulking next to Shane and I was dying to ask Damon about it, surprised that I actually cared, but I did like her – and Shane – and a change of topic was imminent.
“You should come by practice,” Fin suggested casually.
My heart thrilled for a moment then plunged the next. “I can’t,” I said, scrambling for an excuse. “I have to do something for Aunt Franki.”
“When’s Franki’s next art show?” Damon asked as he gnawed on a French fry.
My brows and lips pulled down in perfect unison. “Not sure. I think she mentioned one coming up soon.” I was ashamed that I hadn’t paid much attention to my aunt lately. I desperately needed to pull my head out of my sand of self-pity and listen to other people once in a while. “I’ll ask her again tonight.”
“My mom bought one of her sculptures,” Shane said. “I think it was a seagull or something.”
“Aunt Franki is very talented,” I said, trying to remember the last piece she’d been working on – all I could remember was a large slab of…something.
The ringing of the lunch bell rescued me from disgrace. I gathered my things and walked with Fin to Creative Writing. I sat beside him, focused on Mr. Ellis while my mind wandered to my recent behavior. The anger-demon still resided on my shoulder and woke from time to time but for the most part the last few days, he’d been in hibernation. That was about as good as my behavior got.
Well, time to change. I needed to stop treating people unfairly – I hated the way my parents treated me, after all. What was it – do unto others as you’d have done unto you? I could do that – or at least try. I couldn’t change overnight but I could give it a shot. Starting with my… whatever it was with Fin Friday night.
***
“So, how are you doing, Rena?” Roberta asked as we took our usual seats.
“Okay,” I said. “I, um, went home over the weekend.”
“How was that?”
I sucked in a deep breath and slowly released it through my nose. I fiddled with the hem of my sweatshirt as I carefully pieced together my answer. “It was about the same, I guess. Dad seemed happy to see me – at first.”
“At first?”
I lifted a shoulder. “Yeah. But they went to some function Friday night and then he worked Saturday. I didn’t even see him Sunday before I came back.”
She shifted, her legal pad poised over her knee. “What about your mother?”
“She’s still determined to find my sister.”
Roberta pinched her lips together as her head bobbed slowly. “And, did she ask about your new life? New friends?”
I grimaced, crinkling my nose, as a heavy weight settled in the pit of my stomach. “Not really, I guess. But I didn’t offer any information, either.”
“How does that make you feel?” she asked with a slight tilt to her head.
My anger-demon roused and considered Roberta as I swallowed back a lie. “I don’t know. It doesn’t really bother me.”
“You have to feel something,” she prodded.
“Why do I have to feel anything?” I shot back, the anger-demon clapping its hands happily. “Why can’t I not be bothered by it?”
“Because she’s your mother, Rena,” Roberta said, uncrossing her legs and scooting forward. “She’s supposed to be interested in your life and your welfare.”
“Says who? The government?”
A wry smile graced her lips as she leaned even closer to me, crowding my personal space. “Maybe it’s an unwritten law. Mothers are supposed to love their children unconditionally. They’re supposed to care how they’re feeling.”
“I’m sure she does,” I said, dropping my eyes. My stomach muscles tightened around the stone that had settled at the bottom and my breath quickened. “It doesn’t matter to me so why should it matter to you?”
“I think it does matter to you,” she said in a low voice. I ignored her. “I imagine it made you feel pretty rotten.”
The anger-demon strained against its leash in an effort to reach Roberta, its jaws snapping furiously at her. “It makes me feel like crap, all right? I can’t stand the thought that my mother doesn’t care what happens to me. And I feel like crap about that, too. Are you happy?”
“You feel guilty because you care how your mother treats you?” she asked in a calm tone.
“No, I feel guilty because I shouldn’t expect my mother to dote on me just because Camille is gone. How awful would that be? Am I supposed to just say, “Hey, Mom, now that I’m your only daughter, let’s do lunch and then maybe an afternoon at the spa”?”
“Not exactly,” Roberta said, her relaxed face infuriating me.
“Then what do you mean exactly?” I demanded.
“I mean that no, you shouldn’t expect your mother to shower you with extra attention, but you shouldn’t expect her to totally ignore you, either.”
I jumped to my feet and paced back and forth, the anger-demon frothing at the mouth. “She doesn’t ignore me. She showed me the new posters she had made. She showed me other stuff, too.”
“Stuff to do with Camille, or something else?”
“What does it matter?” I asked, heart pounding in my ears.
“I’m not sure but it must matter to you – you keep asking that question.”
My chest heaved as I stood near a window and stared at the alley that ran behind the building. It had been plowed once but a fresh blanket of snow had covered it and no traffic had disturbed the peaceful, white pureness covering the dirty gravel. I wished I could fall on it and wave my arms and legs making perfect snow angels, laughing without a care in the world. I wished I could just be a kid again.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
Roberta didn’t say anything but I didn’t have to look at her to know she was nodding. “That’s fine, Rena. Is there anything else you want to talk about?”
My head started to throb and I massaged my temples, suddenly exhausted. “No. My head hurts and I want to go home and go to bed.”
“Okay,” she said slowly. “We can end things now. We can pick them up next week.”
“Or not,” I snorted as I strode across the room to the door. “I don’t know.”
“Rena,” she said, slowly climbing to her feet. “It’s important that you come here, though I won’t force you. I couldn’t if I tried.”
I knew that – all of it. I knew I needed to open up and release all the mixed feelings inside, but I wasn’t ready yet. I wanted to organize them better. I wanted to know how I felt about everything. And I didn’t want to admit what I really thought – that nagging truth that lingered in the deepest, darkest recesses of my heart. If I voiced it – let the words out of my mouth to float in the air – it would make things more final. I ju
st couldn’t do that to Camille.
“I’ll be back next week,” I assured her without much enthusiasm. “Bye.”
I escaped before she could throw any more words of encouragement my way and shrugged into my coat. I bundled up to face the cold, January air, and jogged through the fluffy, falling snow to my car.
I used my sleeve to brush the newest accumulation off my windshield as a voice rang out on the wind.
“Rena? Is that you?”
Anxiety gripped my insides as I jumped and spun around. Fin trotted toward me, some sort of sports bag hanging on his shoulder.
“Hey,” I said, my voice quivering. “What’s up?”
“What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously.
I glanced around, my eyes watering in the chilly wind. Several low slung buildings were located in the area – bank, attorney offices, other businesses. It was barely past five and most places were just now closing down for the night.
“Um, running errands for Aunt Franki,” I said, avoiding his eyes.
“Are you finished?” he asked, his voice growing hopeful.
“Yeah, I was just heading home.”
“Why don’t you come with me? We had an early practice tonight so I haven’t eaten yet and I’m starved. We could go grab a burger or something.”
I bit my lip, shivering in the cold. I needed to get home and sort through the conversation I’d had with Roberta, yet I was tempted to put it off for a little while longer. And the tiny flutter in my heart was a sure sign that spending a little time with Fin outside of school was something that I did want to do.
“I need to call my aunt,” I said.
He dug his cell phone out of his pocket with a huge grin taking up most of his face. I shook my head, fetching my own phone from the bag I’d taken with me to my appointment. I called Aunt Franki, quickly explaining my plans. At first she was shocked but her tone turned from incredulous to delighted as she told me to have fun and not be out too late.
“We can take my car and I’ll bring you back to yours later,” he said, taking my arm. He led me to his little Corolla and opened the passenger door for me before tossing his bag in the back seat. As we left the parking lot, he smiled, pointing his car toward the outskirts of town. “I was surprised to run into you.”
“Yeah, me too,” I mumbled, watching the tiny town flash by my window. He was heading toward the little travel plaza near the interstate exit where the only two fast food places in town were located.
He fiddled with the radio until he parked in front of a Burger King and ushered me inside. When we ordered, he insisted on paying, placing a hand on top of mine when I reached for the wallet in my bag. Slightly embarrassed, I relented, but only because I didn’t want him to be embarrassed, too. I waited until we were settled in a booth before unleashing a glare.
“What?” he asked.
“You have no job that I know of – why do you insist on buying me food?”
He chuckled as he dipped some fries in the tiny ketchup cup. “I do have a job. I work during the off-season and shove just about my whole check into my savings account. That’s what I live off of during hockey season.”
I lifted a brow, reading the expression on his face. Honesty lingered in his eyes so I dropped the subject. Instead, I broached a new one. “So, why don’t you date much? Because of hockey?”
A knowing smirk curled his lips as his eyes shined mischievously. “Who says I don’t date?”
I shrugged, not ready to let him off the hook. “That’s what I heard.”
He rolled his eyes with great exaggeration before taking a large bite out of his burger. He chewed, wiped his mouth, and smiled. “Our little school is nothing more than a huge gossip mill, in case you haven’t noticed.”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” I said, a little droll. “So, answer my question.”
“I date,” he said as his smirk returned and his eyes narrowed at me.
Dropping my chicken sandwich, I shook my head, my jaw set. “This is not a date.”
“What would you call it?” he challenged.
“Two people eating crappy fast food.”
He laughed and sucked on his straw. “Nah, it’s more like two people who are equally attracted to each other, enjoying some delicious junk food while getting to know each other.”
It was my turn to roll my eyes. “You certainly are full of yourself.”
He chortled, his eyes never leaving my face. “What, you’re not attracted to me?”
“Maybe I’m not into hockey players.”
His smirk morphed into a full blown grin, tugging at my heart. He was more spot on than he knew but I couldn’t admit it to him. “So, you’re into what – skaters?”
“Yes,” I said sarcastically. “I have a thing for Shane.”
He laughed heartily, tears actually springing into his eyes. My brows plunged as I watched him struggle to gain control of his laughter. He wiped his eyes with a napkin and wadded it up, dropping it to the table. “Sorry, but you must not know.”
“Know what?”
He reached across the table to pat my hand. “Shane has a thing for you.”
“He does not,” I denied hotly, my cheeks flushing.
“Whatever you say,” he said with a nonchalant shrug. He picked up his burger and continued to eat as I stared at him, slack-jawed.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Damn,” I muttered, pushing my food away. “Damn. I don’t like him that way.”
“Hey,” Fin said, dropping his nearly finished burger. “Don’t worry about it – it will pass. Reg has had the hots for him forever and they’re on the verge of hooking up.”
“You’re messing with me, aren’t you?” I begged more than asked.
“Not on your life,” he said, beside himself with glee. “So, I see one simple solution to this problem.”
I dropped my head to the table, groaning. “I don’t think I want to hear it.”
“It’s not that bad,” he said in a soothing, pseudo-sympathetic tone.
“What?” I mumbled, my lips too close to the less than sterile table surface.
“Go out with me.”
My head shot up as my mouth fell wide open. “I…”
“Now, don’t be insulting,” he said, as the amusement slipped from his eyes. I froze until he chuckled, using his knuckle to close my mouth. “Okay, so maybe you’re not ready for that yet. But you will be.”
“You really do think quite highly of yourself,” I said, only half serious.
He shrugged and crammed the remainder of his burger into his mouth as I picked at my fries. “So, tell me about your family.”
“Tell me about yours,” I said, quickly.
Confusion flashed across his face but he shook it away. “Not much to it. My parents are a little older – my dad is retired now. They both were married before and had me late. As a result, I have two older half-sisters that are married and an older half-brother who’s about to graduate college.”
“Wow,” I said.
“Yep,” he continued, crumpling up his burger wrapper. “That’s why I work so hard at hockey – to get a scholarship. Don’t want to put that financial strain on the folks. Mom still works – she owns the little florist shop near the Community Center – but they’re hardly rich.”
“What do you want to go to college for?” I asked, more interested than I cared to admit.
“Sports medicine,” he said.
“Figures,” I grinned.
“You’re not into sports much, huh?” he said.
“I used to be,” I said with a wry smile. “I actually used to be a cheerleader.”
His eyes dilated. “You?”
“Yeah, yeah, don’t rub it in,” I said with a giggle. “I used to be into all that stuff.”
“So, I guess it’s a little late to join the squad here, but why don’t you get into any clubs or anything like that here?”
A thoughtful frown pulled at my mouth.
I didn’t want to discuss my former school or current family life. I’d actually been enjoying myself for the first time in months and I didn’t want to lose the moment.
Until the guilt swept through me like a tornado through a flat, open field.
“Just not really into it now, I guess. You know, new school and all that.”
He nodded although I could tell he wasn’t buying it. But he didn’t push me and for that I was grateful. Truth be told, I was starting to like him more and more as the minutes rolled by and I didn’t know how I felt about that, either.
“So, are we still hanging out tomorrow night?” he asked, easing the tension away from our table.
His earnest face and beseeching eyes were my undoing and even if I had wanted to, I couldn’t say no. “Sure.”
A slow smile spread across his face as he gathered our garbage and piled it on the tray. He emptied the tray in the trash and waited for me to put on my coat. He held the door open for me, the cold air smacked me in the face, making me shudder as he unlocked the car. He started the engine and let it run for a few minutes, giving the heater a chance to warm up.
“Still say it’s not a date tomorrow night?” he asked.
A thrill raced up my spine and I was so very tempted to answer his question with a kiss, but something inside of me - stubborn pride perhaps - held back. “As of right now,” I teased.
His face was turned toward his window but I could see his cheeks lift in a smile. “I can change your mind, you know.”
“Doubtful,” I snorted.
He laughed as he put the car in gear and maneuvered over the slippery roads back to the public parking lot. He pointed out different shops and businesses, explaining to me what they were until he nosed his car next to mine.
“Thanks for dinner,” I said, suddenly shy. His hand shot out, grabbing my arm before I could open the door. I turned to him, a little surprised. “What?”
An impish glint glittered in his eyes as he leaned toward me. My heart thumped in anticipation as my head spun – flipping back and forth between wanting him to kiss me and wanting me to slap him.
“I will change your mind about tomorrow night,” he whispered, his warm breath caressing my face. “Watch.”
“I don’t think so,” I said, not even convincing myself.
