by C. C. Lynch
Amusement met his eyes. “Yeah I am.”
“Okay, then why can’t I read you?”
“I have to get back to class, Abbs,” he raised his hands with a mischievous look before leaving the stairwell.
Somehow the conversation had put me at ease. I was glad that I would have someone at the school that I actually knew, sort of.
6
I walked into my house and stormed my way into the living room where my mother was wrapped in a blanket watching a Lifetime movie.
“I am cross with you,” I put my hands on my hips. “You did not even discuss the Glaston Academy decision with me. You just signed my life away. I may not legally be an adult but I at least deserve some input in my own life.”
I felt strong and powerful for those few moments while I spoke right up until she slowly pulled the blanket off of herself. “Abrielle,” her face was tight and her voice was exacting, “until you pay all the bills in this house you have no right to make financial decisions. That school offered you a full scholarship including tuition, books, a meal plan, and housing. No one else would have given you that.”
“I do volunteering, I single handedly started a local shelter for abandoned animals, and I have saved an entire year’s worth of tuition to an Ivy League college. Any school would have been fortunate to have me as a student.”
My mother rolled her eyes and I thought for sure I was going to get a lecture about my inheritance. I had not actually saved any money but I did get a healthy sum from my grandparents when they passed away.
“I never got a written form from any Ivy League school saying that I will not have to pay a dime.” She pulled her blanket back onto her signaling that she was finished with our conversation.
“Acceptance letters won’t come in for at least another four months!” I yelled throwing my hands up in frustration. “If someone hands you a platter that has ‘too good to be true’ written all over it, you should probably ask a few questions.”
“Go do your homework Abrielle.” She put the volume of her movie up a few notches louder.
“I don’t have any homework because I’m not going to be at school next week, mother.” I threw my backpack on the floor dramatically. “Steph is throwing me a going away party, so I’ll be away this weekend. Two days less that you have to spend with the biggest mistake of your life before you send it away to some fake school.” I turned around and stomped up the stairs to my room. I made it three steps before guilt surged through my torso.
My mother had me when she was only seventeen and she worked hard to make sure we both had a good life. She may have been strict, but she never physically hurt me. Every bit of strict parenting I received from her was only to make sure that I never made the mistakes she had made.
I plopped onto my bed thinking of how horrible I had been just when I got a text from Steph.
Lance Sinclair’s parents are away this weekend.
Pick you up at 7 Friday for your party.
Love you!
Lance was the football team’s quarterback who had prestigious lawyers as parents. He had an older brother that bought him kegs whenever his parents went away, which was at least once a month. The parties always ended with people passed out and others vomiting on the lawn. I typically snubbed my nose at the concept, but since I was about to begin college life a year early I figured Lance’s house would be good practice.
I’ll be wearing your heels and tank top.
I smiled to myself as I threw the phone down on the bed knowing she would be proud.
As soon as I got home that Friday I jumped into the shower then began doing my makeup and hair as Steph had done when I went to the concert. I curled the ends of my long dark hair, the curls bringing out the natural red and blonde highlights that hid in my brunette tresses. My eyes glowed blue between the curls that framed my face. The heels and jeans helped to accentuate the right parts of my body making me wonder why I did not wear them more often.
Steph picked me up at half past seven and gave me a once over before throwing me an approving nod. I slid my bottom into her jeep casually, making sure not to disrupt the work I had done on my hair.
An incredible wrap-around porch hugged Lance’s three story snow colored house. Drunken guests mingled underneath the hanging plants paying no mind to a couple that were making out on one of the rocking chairs. It was strange seeing drunken teenagers stumbling about the house before the sun had fully set.
Steph tried to get me to walk in front of her into the house but we finally settled the wrestle with us walking in together. I was greeted by thirty familiar faces all saying a variety of things including “hey Abrielle,” “congratulations,” and “surprise.” Lance quickly came up to me and pulled me into the kitchen where a large plastic tub with rope handles was filled with some sort of an alcoholic beverage.
“My brother and I made this for you. Well his girlfriend and I. It’s called,” he paused dramatically, “Abrielle’s Awesome Punch.” A wide and proud smile showed off his perfect teeth. “Everyone else has to pay two dollars to have a cup, but you can drink all you want for free all night. Because it’s,” he paused again, “Abrielle’s Awesome Punch.” I spoke the name of the drink with him feigning excitement and quickly grabbed a cup to appease the host.
“This is awesome,” I smiled hugging Lance tightly. Lance and I barely ever spoke, but our interactions had always been pleasant, but I just figured that he had no idea who I was. I thought I had done a relatively good job of staying under the radar, but I suppose being attached at Steph’s hip was bound to get me noticed.
As I was enjoying several cups of “Abrielle’s Awesome Punch” I looked around and realized how much I would miss the people in the house; but in strange ways, almost as a security blanket. I could always count on Lance having parties just when things were about to become boring, Stacy and Ben breaking up only to get back together a week later, and all those habitual things that became everyday high school gossip. I was scared to move into a place where I would have to find new friends, gossip fountains, and hangout spots.
A strange mix of angst and happiness were bubbling together and the room was slowly beginning to appear fuzzy. I excused myself to the bathroom, by unappealingly yelling to Steph, “I’ve got to pee.” Ten steps and a right turn later I found myself in the bathroom mirror and forced myself to smile.
“Even a fake smile will make you happier,” I told my reflection and began making ridiculous smiling faces in the mirror. Just as I began laughing at myself someone knocked on the door. “Just a second,” I muttered as I tried to grab the door handle, but missed. “Second time’s the charm,” I said opening the door abruptly with drunken ineptitude.
Nicholas was casually leaning against the door frame with his hands tucked into his jean pockets. “Nicholas!” I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in for a wobbly hug. “I was so nervous I wouldn’t see you tonight. You know I found out I have a lot more friends than I thought, but you’re my favorite guy friend ever, in the whole world. Let’s be best friends forever.”
He gave me a quick squeeze before he let go. “Obviously I wouldn’t miss your going away party. Looks like you started drinking without me. Guess I’m going to have to catch up.”
“Oh you will. Let’s have a toast, a best friends forever toast with my own punch. Lance made it. It’s called Abrielle’s Awesome Punch.” I slurred my own name so it sounded like “Arbrielleb.”
“That sounds awesome,” he smiled tugging my hair affectionately. “I’ll meet you downstairs in two minutes Abbs.”
He began to close the bathroom door but I jammed the heel of my palm into it. “What did you just say?” A wave of angry sobriety momentarily replaced my drunkenness. I stepped closer to him and poked my finger into his chest. “How dare you come to a party full of my friends pretending to be my Nicholas? What are you doing here? What is your obsession with disguising yourself as him anyway?”
“Whoa, Abrielle,” he put his
hands up, “you’re acting crazy.” He looked genuinely concerned and I wondered if I had heard him wrong. I looked around but fortunately there was no one else within earshot.
“Sorry,” I muttered, “I guess I drank way more of the punch than I realized.”
“It’s okay, just switch off water and alcohol from now own and eat some snacks.” He kissed my forehead quickly. “We’ll make that toast in a minute, Abbs.” He winked and swiftly slammed the door shut.
My jaw dropped and I punched the door. “You’re a really rude man,” I slurred at the door. “I’m going to tell Lance to make all the rude people leave.” I stuck my tongue out then went down the steps to find Steph.
Steph was in the kitchen leaning against the counter laughing with Lance, Nicholas, and a few of the guys from the hockey team. Seeing Nicholas made my heart jump and heat rose to my face. It was unfair that I was having a hard time figuring out if I was looking at my friend or the stranger. The imposter was so good at acting like the real one that the only true way I could tell the difference between the men was by using my telepathy.
I was so comfortable around everyone at Lance’s house that I hadn’t thought to read anyone. Waves of nausea hit when I wondered if anyone else at the party was a fraud. Was it just the one person or was my mind being manipulated more than I already thought it was?
Unanswered questions were instantly wreaking havoc on my sanity so I tapped into the minds of the students at the party. As far as I could tell there were no emulators near me, though I did not know where the man that was just in the restroom had gone off to. For the rest of the night I stood with my shoulder against the real Nicholas in hopes that keeping constant contact with him would keep me from bumping into the fake one at any point.
The rest of the night was an Abrielle’s Awesome Punch induced drunken festival complete with one noise complaint and three people vomiting before midnight. Lance’s brother was offering free rides to anyone that lived within a five mile radius and was too drunk to drive home. Steph and I were the third pair to take his offer. Despite how intoxicated Steph was she managed to get into the backseat gracefully. I opened the front door feeling awkward but grateful that he had offered the ride.
“Who was your friend that was hanging out in the living room tonight?” Steph had directed the question at Lance’s brother. He replied with a confused “huh?” and with a dainty sigh she replied, “There was a guy hanging out in the living room most of the night. I have never seen him before so I figured it was one of your friends making sure the party didn’t get too crazy.”
Her ability to hide her slurring amazed me. She had much more to drink than I did but could hide it when she wanted to. I stared at her reflection in the mirror to see that she was swaying ever so slightly. “He was watching you all night, Abrielle.”
My mind began to race as I tried to remember all the faces I had seen at Lance’s house. I did not remember seeing anyone that I did not recognize in the living room, especially not one that was staring at me. Just then I realized that what I was seeing, or wasn’t rather, had most likely been altered. “That was Rodney,” I replied softly.
“You’ve been holding out,” she clucked her tongue in a disapproving manner.
“He’s annoying, Steph, you would hate him.”
I felt both Steph and Lance’s brother look at me. I waited for Steph to say something but a welcomed silence greeted me instead.
I stayed at Steph’s house for the weekend watching slapstick comedies, eating junk food, and playing out future scenarios. Sunday night Steph, Nicholas, and I got together for a nostalgic sleepover at my house. By ten o’clock Nicholas was snoring softly while Steph and I lay on the bed staring up at the ceiling.
“You know my favorite thing about you?” I did not look over at Steph, just waited for her to respond.
“What’s that?” her voice was quiet, as if she was about to fall asleep.
“I understand the whole idea of people following a crowd as a deep and primal survival instinct. Throughout history social pariahs do not do well on their own, they get killed or just have to live without the desired amount of human interaction. You know who you are and you would survive no matter how far from the crowd you went.” I looked at Steph, “I think it’s awesome that you are so confident with the person you are.”
Steph chuckled lightly, “I guess I make it look easier than it really is.”
“How exactly do you think the crowd decides the direction it goes? Is it just a collective consciousness that strives for progression or is there a particular voice that we are programmed to listen for and follow?”
She stifled a yawn and rolled onto her side to face me. “Is there any way we can save the existential discussions for another time?” I giggled and nodded only to see her face fall somber. “You know what my favorite thing about you is?”
“My long glorious locks,” I tousled my hair about faking excessive vanity.
Ignoring my feigned narcissism, “it’s your faith in humanity. No matter how many bad things happen in this world you still believe there’s good in everyone. You’re like the little kid that stares outside waiting to watch Santa’s reindeer fly over. The rest of the world is bitter and materialistic but you still see the magic in it all.”
I was not sure what to say so I nudged her lightly, “I guess we’re both pretty awesome.”
7
My mother’s voice was shrill at quarter to five in the morning. “Nicholas, would you please help Abrielle get her bags into the trunk?”
Nicholas grunted before responding with a polite, “Yes ma’am.”
My lids fell shut and when I opened them next all the luggage was gone from my room. Steph was spread out across the bed next to me and Nicholas was sitting at my desk staring at taped pictures that lined a whiteboard hung above my computer.
Walking to his side I admitted, “I can barely remember a time before we were friends.” The three of us had been friends for so long that it seemed like my memories began with them.
“Don’t get all sentimental on me. You’re going off to college before the rest of us are even graduating and we’re stuck in high school rubbish classes. I’m not going to feel bad for you.” He smiled but dark circles under his eyes made them look sad.
“You’re just cranky because without me you will have to actually tell girls that you’re not interested in them.” I put down my wall to check that it was the real Nicholas and was happy to see that he was easy to read as ever.
“Being my fake girlfriend was the highlight of your day.” He smirked and puffed his chest.
“Don’t give yourself so much credit. It was, but only because I loved to see the looks on the girls faces when they thought that I actually might be with you.” I chuckled to myself before a despondent silence fell upon us. “Take care of Steph,” I squeezed his arm. “You may be fine without me, but she might actually miss me. Make sure that she is safe and happy and don’t let anyone break her heart.”
“I’ll be fine,” Steph muttered with her eyes still closed. I smiled and hugged her tightly. “Brush your teeth, sicko,” she grunted before grabbing me in a tight hug. Not to be left out, Nicholas jumped on top of us to join in on the hug.
The departure was an emotional one. Steph and I both cried and my mother’s eyes were watery. I read Nicholas again quickly just to make sure that it was him. I had to suppress a laugh when the thought I barged in on was him saying to himself, “the ice queen is melting.”
My mother and I rode in silence with the exception of a drive-thru coffee stop halfway to Glaston Academy. I forced myself to eat in fear of the devastating embarrassment that would come along with low blood sugar on my first day at college.
Once we got off the interstate we took a right turn onto the road the school was on. I fidgeted with anxiety and studied my acceptance letter. Twelve miles from the interstate the street turned into a gravel road hugged tightly by trees.
“Did we miss it? I haven’t e
ven seen one building since we got off the highway.” My stomach and throat were clenching in apprehension as my mom continued driving. She did not respond, only fueling my anxiety. “Mom, we are going down the scariest road in the continental United States. We were obviously picked by cannibals for some cruel joke. Let’s turn around.”
“Don’t be so dramatic,” she shook her head irritated, “we will keep driving for a few more minutes and if we don’t see anything then we can call the school.” After a long pause she looked at me in confusion, “why the continental United States?”
“I’ve never been to Hawaii or Alaska,” I shrugged.
“Neither have you been on every road.” She pinched her lips in annoyance.
“Touché, mother, touché.”
We drove for another ten minutes until the road ended at two large iron gates with the letters “GA” curled into the ironwork. Beyond the closed entrance was a long path that led to a building that seemed more like a mansion than a college.
Hesitantly, I got out of the car and walked to the iron letters and pushed on them lightly only to find that they did not budge. There was no keypad or speaker in sight to prompt our entry onto the grounds. After a moment of searching for some way to get in I ran back to the safety of the car.
“I don’t see anyone outside.” Hardly a second passed after I spoke those words and the gates opened. The car rolled through and I took a deep breath, squeezed my eyes shut, and exhaled, “One… two… three. Three… two… one. ” My words were barely audible but my mother asked what I had said. “I gave myself three seconds to be scared and let fear take over. It didn’t help so I gave myself three seconds to become brave.”
She slowed the car to a stop and stared at me quizzically. It was tempting to shrink under her scrutinizing gaze. I chewed on my bottom lip then whimpered, “Mommy, will you come get me on the weekends if this place is horrible?”
“Of course, honey.” She squeezed my hand reassuringly. It was so seldom that she was supportive that when it happened it was pleasantly surprising.
