I soon forget the rose and all of the noise outside.
***
I still remember Miss Canary’s gift. Even after all these years, she doesn’t look that old, and her personality is still the same as it was back then. I pretty much see her every time I leave the house. She’s always staring at me and waving politely, her hair pinned into a fancy, blonde bun.
The thing about her house I love the most is the forest behind it. This forest is different than the others in this area. The leaves always comfort me, and it’s the best scenery I’ve seen in this small town. One day, I’ll walk into the forest, fall into its temptation, and find another rare rose.
The wind lightly blows Miss Canary’s sundress around. It’s black with yellow canary flower images on the fabric. The warm sun bounces off her pale skin, allowing the tiny freckles on her arms to dance. Her ears are just a bit pointy at the top, her lips are puckered, and her movements are as graceful as the dress she’s wearing.
I search in my purse for my car keys. After pulling them out, I aim at my vehicle and click the button until a beeping sound signals that the car is unlocked. My mom got me this car on my sixteenth birthday. I sigh. Now I’m twenty and getting older by the minute. Jared hops in the back and falls asleep, hidden in the junk I’m taking with me.
I get into the driver’s seat, wriggle my keys into the ignition, and turn on the car. Taylor Swift begins singing “I Knew You Were Trouble.” Jared and I are set to get on the highway from then on.
I throw my hand through the sunroof and pretend to play the guitar. I sing like it’s my song.
While stuck in traffic, I twirl the ends of my hair. My window is down and the music is loud. A guy pulls up next to my car in his cool, black sports motorcycle. I point in all directions of the car as part of my dance routine, minding my own business. I end up pointing at the guy in the motorcycle.
At first, I hadn’t noticed that the guy was watching my embarrassing dance routine. Now that I know this guy probably saw everything, my face burns up from blushing. I stare awkwardly back at him. He winks, then revs up his engine, and shoots off, maneuvering between the immobile traffic. I take a moment to exhale. Someone honks their horn at me. Finally, I snap out of it and focus on driving.
***
I fix my glasses as I drive through the VCU parking lot and look for a spot. The first thing I notice is a guy making out with a girl with platinum blonde hair inside of a car, her hair wrapped around the guy’s hand. She’s wearing a cheerleader outfit and he has black, edgy hair. He’s kissing her above her breasts. The girl’s head slowly falls against her seat. Obviously, she’s enjoying the feeling. It isn’t very ‘normal’ activity, if I may say so myself.
Then again, what isn’t strange about today’s society?
I turn away in disgust, immediately locking my eyes on the campus building ahead of me. I step out of my car and the girl glances at me as she smirks and grabs his neck. There is a hint of yellow in her eyes, but it quickly fades away. They stop their act to look at me. Quickly, I walk to the entrance of the campus.
Public display of affection is okay, don’t get me wrong. The holding hands and the casual peck on the lips is so cute, but what they were doing is basically sex in public. I shudder in discomfort just thinking about it.
I need to go see my counselor. I already lost my chance to go to my first class of the day, and my next class is in an hour or so. Jared leaps out of the car as I lock it. He runs to a nearby tree, climbs it, and sits on a branch. He scratches his head and falls back asleep.
A bunch of sweaty guys are playing basketball. They stop to watch me pass by.
One of the guys snickers. Then someone says, “I can really use a math tutor.”
“How ‘bout we all get some private lessons, honey?”
Someone chugs the basketball at the fence, trying to get my attention. They must not know I professionally ignore these types of confrontations on a daily basis. The guys huddle together and mutter something. A few of the guys look at me. Others just chuckle.
I don’t think I socially fit in that much, but a fair number of guys talk to me. Many of the guys who flirt with me or talk to me aren’t cute. They’re just average. Since we’re all trying to climb this food ladder, in a matter of time I’ll run into one of these guys on my way up as well. They’d kill to climb the ladder on the food chain too. If, by chance, a cute guy flirts with me, he’s usually just joking around. I would know if it’s real or not.
Trying not to draw any more negative attention my way, I speed up and look straight ahead, but my shoes skid across the concrete path, almost causing me to fall face forward. Luckily, I re-balance myself.
I take a deep breath and continue my walk, clenching the strap of my purse. I attempt to flip my hair to play off what just happened, but my hand unfortunately gets stuck in my thick strands.
This is the typical life of Eliza Rose.
Chapter 2
“Stacy, really? You’re mad over something so dumb?” The guy from the make-out session says as he chases after the girl in the hallway. Everyone turns to look at the scene they’re causing.
“It’s not about your stupid student ambassador duties, David. It’s about our non-existent quality time.”
I guess Stacy doesn’t consider sucking each other’s faces quality time.
I chuckle to myself. Stacy’s long hair sways away from her face as she turns to my direction, and David glances at me with his dark blue eyes. They must’ve heard my slight chuckle.
“I would watch it, freak,” she mutters before she walks away.
How awkward.
I bite on my lip to avoid any more unnecessary attention. I wander to the student help desk. I swallow a gulp of air and patiently wait for my turn to ask for assistance.
“Next!”
The lady at the desk looks at me. She seems dead tired. I patiently wait for her to say something, but she starts looking at the computer screen instead.
“I need directions to Student Services, please.”
She stops chewing on her gum and points in many different directions.
“Turn left, then right, then left, then go straight.” She looks up at me irritably and shouts, “Next!”
“Can you repea—?”
“Turn left, then right…Just go straight and follow the signs.”
A girl taps me on my shoulder. I turn to look at her and grin. She doesn’t seem to be enjoying the long wait. “Excuse me, I’m kind of in a hurry. Are you done?”
She holds out the palm of her hand and looks behind her at the rest of the students in line. She purses her lips at me, waiting for my reply.
“Uh, sorry.”
The girl shoves past me on her way to the counter.
Eventually, I find my way to the counselor’s office. It’s just a big section of chairs and tables. I talk with the receptionist and get in a line to speak to someone. Above me, there’s a thick board that says Student Services.
“Excuse me, is this Admissions?”
My gaze drops to the blue vans he’s wearing. They’re remarkably clean. As my gaze wanders back up, I take in his ragged shorts and his grey, plain crewneck. I daze into his light chocolate eyes. His long eyelashes sway down as he checks me out as well.
“N—no,” I answer. “It’s the Student Services Center.”
“You’re staring at me the same way you did earlier, Ms. Taylor Swift.” He chuckles.
“Uh…”
Really, is that all I can manage to get out of my dry mouth? An actual male is trying to converse with me and I say, ‘Uh?’
Great, what do I do? Jared, help. Where are you when I need you?
I purse my lips together and become lost in my thoughts. The guy in front of me squints, his hand tucked on the one strap over his shoulder.
“Ha ha, yeah I that song like,” I blurt because of the excitement I’m feeling. The words just thoughtlessly came out of my mouth. I can’t believe this is happening. The guy
I didn’t expect to see ever again is here in front of me in the same university. It feels like my throat is swelling up.
I glance behind him and see Stacy walk into her next class. Concealer is all over her neck and chest, but I can still see all the hickeys.
“I mean—I like that song.” I correct myself, snapping back into reality.
“Right, well, I’m Eric. Nice to meet you…uhm?”
“E-lee-suh or Liza.”
“Well, Liza, I’ll see you later. I have to get to my next class. Just wanted to see if this was the right place.”
He lowers his bright eyes to the book he is holding. He pouts, then walks toward his class building, leaving me alone. My nerves tickle inside my skin again. I lean out of the room we were in and watch him walk down the hallway.
I walk in the middle of the narrow hallway until I approach Mrs. Long’s office. She’s one of the counselors here. An Asian lady is ruffling through paperwork and answering phone calls.
“Yes, uh huh, uh huh. Please hold.”
She picks up the phone again as it continuously rings.
“Graduation is on June seventeenth. You’re welcome.”
“Mrs. Long,” I whisper, trying to get her attention. She waves her index finger and points at the nearest chair. She mouths for me to take a seat.
Eventually, the phones stop ringing long enough for her to take a breather. Mrs. Long lays her head on her desk.
“How can I help you today?” She mumbles through the papers on the desk.
“I wanted to check to see if I’m in all of the right classes for this semester.”
She turns to her computer and begins typing quickly. I tell her my ID number and answer all of the regular, boring questions they have to ask. She pulls out a clipboard and begins scribbling some words down.
“You need to take SDV.”
“SDV?”
“Yes. It’s a student success class, like re-teaching you about time maintenance.”
I narrow my eyes. “I have to take it?”
“It’s mandatory, and the latest opening is this Friday.”
Studying the clipboard intensely, she glances up at me and back at her sheet.
“Are you serious? That is so lame,” I croak.
“School policy.” She hands me a pink slip with the directions and time for the SDV class. She picks up the phone once more and takes a deep breath before answering promptly.
“This is Long. How can I assist you today?”
I close the door, tucking the slip into my pocket.
I’m not into any sports. At one point, I thought the cheerleaders at prep rallies were really cool. Apparently I didn’t fit in, and my curly monstrous hair definitely didn’t cut it. Not to mention my extreme clumsiness.
College isn’t really as entertaining as many people think. People stick to their own business, walking out of their classes without a care given to anyone else. Students often act like a bunch of ants scattering around once you step into their home. With rage, they race out of their dirt pile and attack you to defend it.
College is pretty much like that all the time. Not to mention I’m only about five foot four, and it’s easy for me to get buried alive in VCU’s massive ant pile.
I drop the papers in my hand. I completely forgot I was holding them. They fall to the ground, spreading across the glossy floor. A few girls walk past and step on them, leaving shoe prints.
“What a loser,” one girl whispers to her freckled friend.
I’m pretty sure they didn’t think I’d hear that. Unfortunately, my hearing is much stronger than a normal person’s, and I can actually pick up what people are saying about me from a distance.
I gather all of my registration papers and stuff them into my purse. My best friend, Dawn, staggers through a bunch of jocks and walks toward me in a denim jacket with white high-waisted shorts. Her light pink hair, which she just dyed yesterday, is lifted by the wind her fast pace is producing. Her almost perfect, acne-free skin glimmers against the school’s lighting. She holds onto her handbag. The words ‘Boys Stink’ are on the front, a shriveled up nose underneath it.
“New bag?” I joke.
“It was on sale at Hot Topic...I was on break from work, okay,” she mumbles in guilt.
“It’s all right. We all go through it, Dawn. You already found a job? We just started the semester.” I walk with her down the hallway.
“But you’re not as bad as me! I crave to shop daily.” She nudges my shoulder. “Yeah, you won’t believe what I’ll be doing from now on.”
She glances at my outfit. Her expression changes as she studies me curiously. She stops me from walking and crosses her arms.
“Dawn…”
“Nope, don’t want to hear it. Twirl, missy, twirl.” Her index finger motions me to obey.
I lower my eyes, fix my yellow cardigan, and kick my feet around. Earlier, guys on the basketball team wolf hollered at me. Now I’m getting a compliment from Dawn.
I must be on point today.
“Thanks, I just threw it on. I was late today and missed class,” I explain.
“Overslept?” She grins.
“You know me so well.”
“I’ll buy you a dreamcatcher. They’re on sale.”
I remember the nightmare I had and want to tell her about it, but I decide against it when she nudges me with her shoulder. We walk into the defending ant pile.
***
It was a lame first day of school. I ask Dawn if she wants to go to the mall, and she agrees to text me once she gets home.
I glide and maneuver through the rowdy students at school. Something furry bumps against my ankles. It feels familiar. I close my eyes, hoping that Jared is not actually inside of VCU.
I look down to the glossy floor. As soon as I see Jare walking next to me, I cover my mouth and glare at him.
He chuckles. “You don’t seem too excited to see me, Liz.”
“Of course not! What are you doing in here?”
Everyone looks at me with weird expressions on their faces. I’m talking to a cat. This is not helping me fit in at all. The students snicker and turn back around to talk to their friends. I try to act normal as I walk toward the parking lot.
“Don’t worry, they can’t see me. I’m invisible to them,” he says.
“I don’t care what you are! Get gone, Jare.”
I shoo him, forgetting that there’s people around me and, to them, it just looks like I’m talking to nothing but air. I place the palm of my hand on my forehead. Stacy Meyer is in front of me. I catch her glare.
I blink a third time and she’s gone. I think I might’ve been hallucinating or something, because I saw a hint of yellow glimmering in her eyes. If she noticed me talking to nothing but air, I’m definitely going to be on her torture list. The heat must have been getting to my head.
Shrugging off my awkwardness, I grab my keys from inside my purse and walk out of the school.
***
Eric is leaning against his black motorcycle and texting. As I strut to my vehicle, I try to act cute, hoping he’ll notice.
As I inhale the warm air outside, my fingers travel up into my hair and get stuck in the tangles. I try to pry my fingers out before Eric notices me passing by. The more I struggle, the more my hair creates a bundle of knots.
He lifts his head up from his cell phone. I catch his gaze as he smiles at me. Immediately, I stop in place, my right hand stuck in the devious knots holding them captive.
“Eliza, right?”
“E-lee-suh,” I correct.
“Right,” he says. “Pretty hot out. I’m not used to this weather.”
“Well, you’re wearing a crewneck,” I tease. “Smart choice.”
Eric chuckles as he wipes the sweat from his forehead. He runs his fingers through his chocolate brown hair.
“Go easy on me. I’m from Canada. I didn’t think it’d be this hot,” he jokes, trying to mask his embarrassment. “But you, your outfit is ver
y Californian.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, pretending to scratch my head. He seems to notice how long my hand has been in my hair. I quickly follow up with a question. “Is that a good thing, or…?” I smile.
“Oh, it’s a good thing. You look like a Tumblr girl.”
“What’s that?”
“Like, you know…Tumblr?”
I tilt my neck to the right, confused.
“Um, like the blog site? Yeah, never mind,” he says, as if he lost interest in talking to me. “Well, I’ll catch you later.”
He glances at my hair, a smile on his face, and gets on his motorcycle. He revs up his engine then shoots away.
Can I be anything more than awkward?
Chapter 3
I arrive at my condo. My parallel parking is not perfect, but it’ll have to do. I walk inside the house and the first thing I smell is my mother’s burnt cooking.
She pulls out a long, thick spaghetti noodle and places it on a plate. Then she leans over the pot and snaps the middle of the bunch in her hands. The noodles plop into the boiling cauldron.
This is mom’s way of shortening the length so that the pasta can fit inside the pot perfectly. She glances up from the cauldron, her blue-grey eyes brimming with happiness and her brown, wavy hair flowing over her shoulder. She looks up at me, her white, straight teeth beaming across the room as she smiles.
“Hey, jellybean. How was your first day of adulthood?”
“I hate school.” I turn my attention to the noodles bubbling in the boiling water behind her. “Spaghetti?”
“Isn’t she just the greatest cook?” Dawn walks down stairs from her room, arching both of her eyebrows up and down. “Sorry, Liz. I forgot to text. I was shopping online.”
I roll my eyes at her and place my purse on our granite table.
My mother glides to the side of the kitchen. She opens a cooking book that is next to her and turns some of the pages until she finds the page she wants. She slaps her index finger on the picture in the center.
Mystical (The Mystical Trilogy Book 1) Page 3
