“Cheers to our first day of school,” she laughed, holding up an imaginary glass of champagne. She walked backwards out of the library and blew me a kiss goodbye.
I lugged my bag onto my shoulder and stormed towards first period.
Congratulations, Genesis.
Chapter Four
“It’s good to see your shining faces after a long spring break.”
I sank into my seat, allowing my bag to drop heavily near my chair. The class was still murmuring after the bell had rung. Mrs. Whitaker licked her finger and handed me a paper from the stack in her arms. She looked tan, like she’d spent the week in the Bahamas. Her white teeth were glowsticks against her skin.
“What better way to begin the second half of the semester than with a project?”
The class grumbled in response and one boy rolled his eyes at his friend and shook his head.
“You’re new,” Mrs. Whitaker stopped at the front. She was paused at Jace’s seat. He glanced up at her.
“They moved me to first hour.”
“Ah,” Mrs. Whitaker handed him a sheet. “They adjust the schedules every year and there’s always a few students that get switched around.”
“Just my luck,” I mumbled under my breath.
“Welcome, Mr. Anthony,” she said.
“My pleasure,” he grinned at her. I wanted to wipe that charismatic smirk off his face.
This was going to be a long few weeks.
“He’s in it ‘til the end of the year.” I grabbed a napkin and tucked it under my milk before heading towards the utensils crate.
Aven gave me a look and followed after me with her tray. “Actually? Holy crap, you’re not gonna make it to the summer. You might as well just drop.”
I shook my head and adjusted the sandwich that was falling off my tray. “I can’t. You know my dad would freak out.”
“I don’t know, man. Don’t say I didn’t give you options.” Aven used one hand to try to tug at the hair tie holding up her bronze ponytail. “Help?” She turned her back to me and tried to balance her tray with the other hand. I let her ponytail down and handed her the hair tie. She grabbed it with her teeth.
“With the girls today or our spot?” she asked through the hair tie.
“Ours,” I said immediately.
Aven led the way out the back of the cafeteria. The cluster of picnic tables was empty, but we still went right passed them and headed towards the trees in the farthest corner of the courtyard. It was the spot closest to the forest, a small sanctuary that the ecology classes occupied during the majority of the day.
But lunch was my favorite. Not because I wasn’t doing algebra problems, but because for a half an hour of the day, the forest was ours.
Aven’s boy shorts swished as she sat down near the tree line. I set my tray in the grass next to her. She leaned against our oak tree and moved over to give me room.
“So, do you need to talk about it?” She eyed me behind her turkey wrap.
I swallowed a bite of my sandwich. “What are you talking about?”
She gave me a look. “Come on, Gen. I know you, and I know when you’ve had a hard night.”
I let out a sigh. “Not really. It’s just, I found a bunch of her stuff in the attic yesterday.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Everything. I didn’t even know it was all up there.”
“Geez. Was your dad upset about it?”
I shrugged. “If he was, he didn’t let on. I told him I was looking for my old toys.”
That’s when I remembered the books.
I turned to face her. “But that’s not even it. There’s an old book shelf up there too. I can’t even count how many books are up there. I feel like they’re hers. I don’t know why Dad’s never told me about them.”
Aven rolled her eyes. “Probably because you read every book your fingers touch.”
“No, this is serious. The bookshelf was tucked so far back in the attic. It was like…like I wasn’t supposed to find it.”
Aven bit into her wrap. “That’s ridiculous. Why would your dad hide an old book shelf from you?”
I lowered my voice instinctively. “Well, there’s this one book—”
“Oh. My. Gosh.” Aven groaned and pointed to the door leading to the cafeteria.
A group of boys exited the cafeteria, a few jumping over the stairs that led to the asphalt below. They shoved each other and laughed. A few crowded the picnic tables noisily.
“Seriously?” I watched as Jace perched himself on the side of one of the tables, flicking a grape at a sandy-haired Max Halwood. “Of course, the loudest people in the entire school have to be out here.”
Aven shook her head angrily and opened her mouth. “Hey!”
I tugged at her shirt violently. “What are you doing?! You know exactly what Jace is going to do when he sees—”
“Well, look who it is.”
I gave Aven a look. Her eyes went wide and she mouthed “oops” to me.
Jace had seen us. He sauntered over, his hands in his jeans, and leaned against the tree adjacent to ours.
I sighed. “What do you want, Jace?”
He smirked. “You tell me, princess.”
“Stop being so obnoxious,” Aven spat out. She wrapped her silky hair into a messy bun that looked ready to fall out.
Jace cocked his head casually and smiled at her. “Can’t help it. We’re outdoors. You two can go somewhere else if it bothers you so much.” His baby blue Aeropostale long sleeve clung to his frame.
“You never know when to quit, do you?” Aven said.
“Okay, enough.” I said. I looked at Aven. “Let’s just go. I’m done eating anyway.”
“But—”
I didn’t wait for her as I grabbed her tray and mine and headed towards the door. I could feel Jace’s eyes on me as Aven ran after me.
“What are you doing? Now he thinks he won.”
“He’s never going to get it out of his big head that he doesn’t run the school,” I shot back. “And quite frankly, I couldn’t care less about what he thinks.”
Aven’s silence told me she didn’t believe me.
“What was it that you were talking about before?” she said after a few moments.
I shook my head. “It wasn’t important.”
The sunset was an orange-pink that evening, illuminating the winter-burdened tree branches and their newborn buds to create inky silhouettes. The windows were open and a spring breeze tickled my cheeks.
I held out the torn sheet and unfolded it, running a finger down the ink. I peered at the title typed in the center of the page once more, sounding out the words in my mouth.
No. It couldn’t be. It wouldn’t make sense.
I shook my head to clear it. Whichever book this title page came from, it wasn’t in the house.
But I’d seen it. As plain as the gold lettering on the book binding. I’d seen it.
I jumped off the window sill. It was decided.
It wasn’t worth my time figuring out.
Chapter Five
“Can you believe that in just a couple of months, we’re going to be high schoolers? Get ready parties and boys, I’m coming.”
Aven’s oversized Eagles sweatshirt engulfed her tiny frame like one giant sleeping bag. I could barely see the shorts that peeked under it. She dragged her backpack on the ground behind her as we stopped at her locker.
I cocked my eyebrow. “Aven, you’re the most boyish girl I know. Since when have you been interested in boys?”
She swung her braid around so that it rested on her other shoulder. “Since now. When we get to high school, we’ll finally have options. I might actually start trying with my wardrobe.”
“I mean, you’re the one wearing college sweatshirts at fourteen.”
She stuck her tongue out at me.
The Friday morning bell rang and she quickly grabbed a textbook and shoved it into her bag. “See you at lunch,” she called over
her shoulder before disappearing around the hallway bend. I fiddled with my backpack straps as I headed towards first hour class.
“Alright, class, we might as well pick up where we left off before break started. Jace, you can share with someone else for now until we get you a book. Can someone remind us all of the topic we were discussing two weeks ago?”
A girl next to me raised her hand. “The Great Depression.”
“Very good. And does anyone remember what caused the Great Depression?”
I raised my hand. “The stock market crash, but—”
“That’s a simple answer.”
I spun in my seat to face Jace who was a couple rows back.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The Great Depression didn’t occur from the stock market crash. Everyone said it was, but it actually had multiple causations. Fragile banking systems, industrial overproduction, etc.”
I did my best to mask the heat that was boiling in my face. “Well, maybe if you would have waited a second, I would have had the chance to say that.” The bite in my voice was harder to hide.
“As if.”
“Yes, Jace, the Great Depression had more than one overall cause. But thank you for your insight, Genesis. Let’s move on, please,” Mrs. Whitaker cut in.
I turned around in my seat and clasped my hands under the desk. I could feel Jace’s ego poking at my back for the rest of the class period.
I hoped he tripped on something today.
Apparently, my embarrassment hadn’t left by the time lunch rolled around.
“What happened to you?” Aven bit into a glossy apple, grimaced, and threw it into the woods. “Bitter.”
I dropped my backpack in the grass. “Jace. That’s what. I swear, it’s like he’s trying to make me look like an idiot.”
“Are you surprised? It’s been like this for years.”
I rubbed my face. “I know, I know. I can’t let him get to me. He just…UGH.” I picked up an acorn and threw it. It bounced off another tree trunk and hit Aven on the head.
“You know what you need?” she began, chucking the acorn at me. “You need a distraction.”
I opened my mouth.
“And not books, honey.”
“Why not? Books are perfectly harmless.”
“Yeah, and so is a movie night with me.”
I laughed. “Okay, that sounds good too.”
“Good, because the entire Twilight series is at the movie store, and I intend on watching every single one.”
“You realize each of those is two hours long, right?”
She looked at me incredulously. “So?”
I held up my hands. “Your funeral.”
“Our funeral.”
“You’re going to do what?”
My dad set the groceries down onto the countertop. His egg carton tapered on the edge of the granite after the apple juice rolled into it.
“You know, there’d be more room if we actually had counter space.” I eyed the three-tiered stack of books and newspapers pushed up against the mint backsplash.
“Would you like to help me clean it up?”
I paused a moment. “You know, I think it’s fine as it is.”
My dad chuckled. “That’s what I thought.”
I quickly grabbed the carton before it could plummet to its death on the kitchen tile. “And, yes, Aven intends on watching every single movie in one night. Can I just stay over? She’s not going to be able to stomach the vampire fangs.”
My dad grabbed a grocery bag and emptied out its contents. “Aven? I thought she enjoyed a little blood and gore.”
“Apparently she has a soft spot for Edward Cullen. His less vampire-y version.”
My dad snorted. “Well, go for it. But can I come pick you up in the morning? There’s the antique fair in town. That old book dealer is going to be there.”
“Please don’t buy another civil war anthology. I have a stack in my room from the last fair we went to.”
My dad held up his hands in surrender. “Okay…I’ll limit myself to one.”
I shook my head and tugged my Converse on without lacing them.
“See you at 9:00 a.m.” he called after me.
When I opened the back door of Aven’s family SUV, I was attacked by a stack of movies to my face.
“You ready for a thrilling vampire saga?”
I pushed them away to allow myself room to climb in. “I might fall asleep.”
“Oh no you’re not. This is your distraction, remember?”
“Hello, Mrs. Hilldale.” I buckled my seatbelt. “You didn’t have to remind me about that,” I said to Aven.
Aven rolled her eyes at me.
Aven had a room in her basement—the two halves of the den were separated by a built-in sliding door. Their flat screen TV took up one half of the wall, an assortment of family photos and trinkets from their latest vacations placed throughout the custom-built cabinet.
Aven dropped to her stomach to fit the disc into the DVD player. I wrapped myself in a massive blanket and grabbed the remote. “Should I hit play?”
“Yeah.” She jumped on the couch and tugged on the blanket until I let some of it unravel for her.
“Okay, I get more than a corner,” she said. I huffed and let her take the other half.
But as the opening credits came on, I realized Jace wasn’t the only thing I needed a distraction from.
The books in the attic. The hidden treasures tucked away in the secret troves of an old three-story house on the corner of Berring Street and Knoxvalley. A house on the corner of disaster. On the corner of insanity. On the corner of my insanity. Enough for a small stop sign to keep the two streets of my colliding world from crumbling into each other. And yet…amidst it all, there was something so utterly compelling about that book. The book with the gold lettering stuck in the back of a bookshelf.
Even now, my fingers itched.
I tried to pay attention to Bella Swan pushing the microscope over to Edward.
Aven sighed. “I saidddddd, would you like me to pop some popcorn?”
I rubbed the corners of my eyes. “Yeah—yes, sure.”
She shook her head and mumbled up the stairs, “Why do I even try with you?”
“I’ll pay more attention, I promise,” I called up at her. She waved me off good-naturedly.
When she returned with a steaming bowl of freshly popped popcorn, she had her pajama pants on and a cotton T-shirt.
“Aven, its 6:30 still.”
“It is perfectly acceptable to put pajamas on before 7:00 p.m.”
“You know what? Go for it,” I laughed.
And for the rest of the night, I didn’t think about the books in the attic once.
Chapter Six
The Stoneybrook Antique Fair used to be a family tradition. We’d make the day of it. Take a picnic basket to the town square and set it up in the center park. Dad would pull on a pair of cargo shorts and a colorful polo. She would wear a pearl white dress with tiny sunflowers patterned into the fabric and a pair of strappy sandals that laced up to her shins.
And the day always seemed absolutely perfect. Like the day was ours and ours only. Just an afternoon to ourselves, looking at handmade necklaces and cherry oak bed frames and old, musty books.
The vendors used to say hello to us. Most of them knew us by name. But things have changed now. Since then, there has been one less visitor than usual. And after a while, they kind of just…stopped saying it anymore.
The fair has now been moved to the north end by the courthouse, and we don’t have any more picnics.
I glanced at my dad. He had one hand on the steering wheel, the other stroking the small stubbles growing on his chin. I wondered how he did it. How he went to these types of things and pretended not to feel like his heart was shrinking in his chest.
I wondered which one of us was closer to breaking. Him. Or me.
We parked in the street across from the courthouse and lo
cked the car. It was unusually warm for April, so I removed my jean jacket and tied it around my waist. The courthouse courtyard was littered with bright, white tents. They looked like sails in a sea of milling locals, scattered strollers, and yapping terriers.
“In and out, I promise,” my dad assured me. I guess neither of us wanted to stay longer than was necessary.
We weaved through the crowds to get to the back of the fair where all of the antique books were located. I spotted The Traveling Pages sign before I saw the long table of books set out in the sunshine.
“Hey, Ralph.” My dad greeted a stout, silver-haired man sitting in the shade of the tent. He looked up from beneath his straw hat and his thin lips stretched into a wide smile when he saw my father.
“Well, I’ll be. It’s Todd Amelyst. I haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays.”
“It’s good to see you too, Ralph,” my dad said. They shook hands.
Ralph smiled at me and picked himself up slowly out of his rocking chair. He couldn’t stand up fully. Half of his torso was hunched over and his body weight was supported by a wooden cane. “You look more and more like her every year,” he said to me.
I tried to smile back. My dad shifted uncomfortably.
Ralph moved his cane to the other hand and patted his straw hat harder onto his head. “You know, sometimes I forget she’s really gone—”
“Where do you keep your World War II books?” my dad interrupted. He moved closer to the table.
Ralph scratched his chin. “Ah, well, if you’re looking for World War II books…” And with that, Ralph forgot what he was talking about and led my dad to the other side of the stacks.
I felt bad for him in a way. It wasn’t like he knew my dad was…sensitive…when people talked about her. But I guess being here was doing more to Dad than he let on.
I decided to disappear inside a tent selling handwoven rugs. There wasn’t one rug in that tent that matched another. I pushed away a rack of large multicolored floor mats hanging from the ceiling. The light shone through one with an ombre of turquoise threads, bouncing off rugs with bright magentas and sunny yellows on the other side of the tent. The air smelled musty and rich. I ran a hand down one of the hanging rugs and listened to the wind chimes in the nearby vendor.
Worthy of Rain Page 2
