The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted

by J. A. Schreckenbach

  She took a long breath, exhaled, then slid her finger cautiously under the sealed end and gently ripped the flap. A letter was folded neatly inside. Aimee opened it slowly and read the first sentence to herself. The University of the Cascades, Office of Admissions would like to congratulate you on your acceptance for the 2006 Fall Quarter in the College… She didn’t finish the rest. Aimee screamed and pitched the letter in the air, then jumped up and hugged her dad, ignoring any pain from the mending rib. He immediately returned a gentle squeeze.

  “I knew you would get in. Never doubted it.”

  All the thoughts of her earlier encounter with danger disappeared, and Aimee snagged the letter from the floor. “I have to call Dylan,” she sang flying to her room. She hit DT on her phone and impatiently waited.

  A couple seconds later his voice boomed through the receiver. “Hey, good morning, gorgeous. What’s up?”

  Aimee cheerfully greeted, “Good morning back. Hey, guess what?”

  “Uh, you’re madly in love with me, and you gotta have me now.”

  “Dylan, stop messing with me. Yes, I’m insanely in love with you, and you make me friggin’ crazy, but that’s not why I’m calling. I’m calling because I have some totally awesome news!”

  “Okay. So what’s this totally awesome news?”

  “I got my acceptance letter from UC this morning!”

  Dylan exclaimed, “Woo hoo, I knew it! See I told you not to worry. All right, that’s so cool. We’ll be together this fall in Eugene!”

  “I know, that’s cool, isn’t it?” she said, her voice suddenly sounding a bit deflated. “Really sweet.”

  He paused for a couple seconds. “Hey, you don’t sound too excited about this. What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, I’m really excited about UC,” she said, trying to hide her tension.

  “So what’s the matter then? I know there’s something bugging you.”

  “Nothing really.”

  “What does nothing really mean? There’s not a problem with us, is there?”

  Dylan had already confronted Brandi about the phone calls. She denied any involvement. Aimee hadn’t shared her mystery stalker yet, nor the fact that she really didn’t believe Brandi. Of course Brandi wouldn’t admit to Dylan she was harassing Aimee, and Aimee didn’t really want Dylan to get in the middle of it. If her assumption about Brandi was correct, Aimee knew he would lose it with her. She had witnessed just how upset he got over a stupid love note, one of Brandi’s flimsy attempts to win Dylan back. Aimee hated keeping things from him, but he would find out about it soon enough.

  “No, it’s nothing to do with us. We’re perfect. Everything is great. It’s just…well, I’ve had a small problem lately and it cropped up this morning so I’m a little stressed.”

  “So are you gonna tell me? I might be able to help.”

  Aimee hesitated, quickly weighing her options. Finally she decided to tell him. Maybe he had noticed the black Lexus around town, or knew who owned the mystery car. She needed to know who was out spying on her, and more importantly, why. Aimee asked trying to not sound too worried, “Dylan, do you know anyone with a black Lexus?”

  “Yeah, you know Paul has one. Why?”

  “Besides Paul. It’s a black sedan, not a SUV.”

  “One of my mom’s friends has a white 430. Why, Aimee?”

  “Well, I’m not sure, but I think someone is following me.”

  Dylan’s voice changed abruptly. “Following you? What do you mean?”

  Aimee attempted to soothe him. “It’s probably nothing, really.”

  “Aimee, who’s following you?”

  “That’s just it. I don’t know. Their windows are so dark I can’t tell who is driving. I started seeing this car parked by my house a few weeks ago…”

  He interrupted, “So, someone could have gotten a new car, or maybe someone is visiting.”

  “I thought the same thing until this morning.”

  “What happened this morning?” Tension spilled from his voice.

  “I was on my run…”

  Again he jumped in, diverting the story. “Your run? I thought the doctor didn’t want you running yet?”

  “I’m okay. I was fine running. No problems at all. The stalker is what upset me.”

  He switched topics again. His voice jumped an octave higher. “Stalker?”

  “Yeah, my nickname for the creep in the Lexus.” She asked petulantly, “So, do you want to hear the rest of my story?”

  “Sorry. Yes, go on.”

  “Anyway, this stalker person blew through the intersection driving like a friggin’ maniac. They went by so fast I didn’t see who was driving, and barely had a chance to see the plates. It freaked me out so I veered off my route, and I got up to the minimart and there it is, like it’s waiting for me. Instead of feeling scared I got really pissed. So I decided to confront this weirdo, and as soon as I got close to the car they tore out of the parking lot driving like a freakin’ idiot. They almost creamed this little old man coming through the intersection.”

  “Are you serious? Did you get a look at the driver before they got away?”

  “Nope, the windows are too dark, and I was coming up from behind the car.”

  “Well, what about the plates?”

  “They sped away so fast, and I was completely focused on seeing the driver so I didn’t notice anything except it had Oregon plates.”

  “At least that’s a start. Hey, doesn’t Mike know someone who works for Medford PD?”

  “You mean Officer Woolsey?”

  “Yeah, that’s the dude. Isn’t he the one who was working on who broke into your house?”

  “Yes, but that’s a dead case. They couldn’t find enough evidence to pursue. And what would I tell him now, 'Some crazy stalker is parking his nice Lexus on our street, and I think he’s watching our house?' Dylan, this is just a gut feeling, nothing concrete. I only feel like someone is following me. I have no proof.”

  “Well, I don’t want some sicko pervert harassing you. I’ll do some checking with Paul and Mom to see if they know anyone with a black Lexus. Did you catch any numbers on the plate or anything else unusual?”

  “Nope, but I’m sure it’s a Lexus. Four doors with really dark tinted windows. Awesome car.” Aimee sighed heavily, not at all relieved Dylan felt obligated to do her detective work. It was probably her overactive imagination getting away from her, but then again, the anonymous phone calls had not been a product of her imagination. Somebody was out to make her life miserable.

  “Don’t worry, babe. We’ll find out who this asshole is.” Reassurance came across the phone in his now calmed voice.

  In the short time their relationship had fused, the bond had deepened swiftly. It was strange just how fast their love had grown. Dylan’s feelings were evident in his reaction to anything that affected her. What made Aimee happy, delighted him. And what bothered her, troubled him terribly.

  “Thanks, Dylan, but I really don’t want you worrying about this.”

  “Hell, whoever messes with you, messes with me, too. If you leave it to the cops to figure it out it could be too late. Anyway, I’ll be by in about thirty minutes to pick you up. Okay?”

  “All right. I’ll be waiting.” Aimee hung up and flew to the bathroom to shower and get ready. She knew Dylan wouldn’t let this rest until he found out who was hounding her, and if it was Brandi, maybe she deserved whatever she would get. The excitement about her acceptance at the University of the Cascades was being spoiled by this infuriating creep.

  Aimee was quickly gathering up her books and stuffing them angrily into her backpack when Dad tapped on her door, then poked his head in. “Can I come in?” he asked.

  “Sure. Dylan will be here in a sec though. What’s up?”

  He hesitated for a few seconds, and then he looked at Aimee with his eyes full of concern. “Aimee, I know you’re eighteen, technically an adult, but you need to be really careful. There are a lot of freaks out ther
e.”

  She walked over to Dad, placed her hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it lightly. Suddenly her anger evaporated. “Dad, you’re so sweet, but you worry too much. I know how to take care of myself.” Aimee kissed his cheek, and he managed a smile. Zonker bounced off her bed and raced towards the front door to announce Dylan’s arrival.

  “Hey, before you go. I’m taking Hannah up to Reedsport the first part of April. Do you and Dylan want to join us?”

  “Like a double date with you and our economics teacher?”

  “Yeah, like a double date, I guess. What? Are your old man and his girlfriend too old for you two to hang with?” he teased.

  “Nope, so not the reason. It’s just I don’t think I’ll be ready to surf by then, and I’m not sure I could stand sitting on the beach watching everyone else surfing and having fun. You know I had to sit the sidelines at Ashland. It was the pits. Thanks for the invite, but I think we’ll pass. You two go and have a great time, and don’t act like you’re sixteen and be out there showing off for Dr. Morris,” Aimee said, and then she opened the front door. Dylan’s finger was an inch away from the doorbell.

  “Damn, Aimee, how do you do that? Oh, hey Mike, how’s it going?”

  Aimee winked at her dad, and then pulled Dylan along to his FJ before he could strike up a conversation with her dad.

  School was in a buzz. March was almost over. Seniors were too busy preparing for their plans after graduation to care much about the hoopla. Juniors were excitedly awaiting their turn at becoming seniors, and preparing for the end of school festivities. Evidence of the Junior-Senior prom in May was everywhere. Dylan hadn’t mentioned anything about it, not like he couldn’t notice all of the announcements. Flyers hung on the walls in every hallway and all over the campus. Neon colored posters covered the cafeteria walls. She sincerely hoped he didn’t feel pressured to invite her because they were seniors. Unlike Chelsea, Aimee didn’t like getting all primped up in a satiny gown and painful high heels, especially when you only wore the outfit once before it went to the back of the closet for eternity. And she stunk at dancing. Social events were what Chelsea lived for, and she would insist that Aimee go to prom. If Dylan even asked her, and Aimee seriously hoped he wouldn’t, she would have to say yes, and get plucked and tucked like a Thanksgiving turkey. She was sure Chelsea would love to help her get pimped out in style.

  Basketball had ended at East Medford, and baseball was ramping up. She wasn’t crazy about football, too much carnage, but Aimee was positive she would go to her share of football games in the fall when she would be in the stands watching Dylan play for UC, and cheering on the Bears. Because of all the time she spent courtside watching James, basketball was on her list of most watched sports, but baseball was her favorite. So Dylan took Aimee to every home game if she didn’t have to work. After school Dylan and Aimee walked to the baseball field to watch East Medford play. Dylan stopped at the light pole in right field, ripped off the taped prom flyer and presented it to her.

  “What’s this?” Her brows furrowed when she realized what was on the bright pink piece of paper.

  “Your invitation, Madam. Prom’s coming,” he casually said.

  “And?”

  He took both of Aimee's hands, worked his fingers into hers, and then smiled. “And I would like you to go with me. I figured you knew we were going, but I’m making it official. I know you’re not crazy about anything formal or glitzy, but I really want us to go.”

  Aimee took a deep breath and studied his face. The back of his hand brushed lightly across her cheek and he gazed into her eyes waiting for a response. Damn it. He knows I won’t disappoint him. “Okay. Sure. Why not,” she struggled to answer, faking a sad excuse for a smile. “I would love to go with you to prom…” Feeling victorious, he leaned in, his lips ready to taste hers when she continued. Aimee cleared her voice first. “…on one condition…”

  Dylan froze, his mouth an inch from hers, and pulled back staring incredulously at Aimee.

  “You have to promise to honor my one condition.”

  Dylan paused and tapped his fingers on his chin pretending he was contemplating her ultimatum. “So, let’s hear it.”

  Smugly she said, “Well, as I was saying, I would love to go with you on one condition, and that is you must agree to go with me one weekend before prom to Otter Rock to surf. Just the two of us. I want to teach you how to surf.”

  His jaw softened, and the corners of his mouth lifted upwards. “Sweeeet! I like your condition.” He instantly tethered her body to his, and kissed her passionately, and for a moment Aimee forgot they were at the baseball field. A couple of Dylan’s friends passed by them and shouted some crude comments. Aimee felt her cheeks heat up as Dylan pried himself from her steel-like clutch and lobbed back a few obnoxious remarks. He returned his lips swiftly to hers. He stopped and whispered tenderly, “I love you.” Aimee knew the rest of the evening she would be thinking of Dylan, not baseball.

  The temperature dropped about twenty degrees around the eighth inning when a cold front pushed through Medford. The sky opened up and rain furiously fell. The crowd emptied the bleachers scattering for their cars. Dylan grabbed her hand and they raced to his FJ to escape the downpour. They both laughed crazily as they jumped onto the seats mindless of the water soaking into the soft material. Dylan grabbed a blanket from the back seat and handed it to Aimee, and then he gently wiped away the rain drops running down her cheeks. His chocolate eyes bore into Aimee's, and her heart instantly fluttered. She locked onto him like an anaconda with her hands tight around his neck. She weaved her fingers into his dark, wet hair and their tongues danced wildly together. Instantly, their bodies welded. He glided his lips across Aimee's throat softly kissing it, and his warm breath hung on her cool skin. She glanced around. It was pouring and darkness had crept up quickly. The windows were foggy, but it looked like the parking lot had cleared, everyone except them.

  She could feel Dylan’s heart beating through his shirt. He held on tightly to her. He floated his hands down Aimee's back to the top of her jeans, and touched her moist skin. Shivers ran up her spine. She pried herself away and stared into his eyes, bit her bottom lip, took a deep breath, then took his hand and guided it under the front of her shirt. He moved his hand up her stomach and placed it on top of her bra. Her breathing sped up. Aimee whispered, “Do you want me?”

  His fingers trembled against her breast, and his eyes filled with desire. His voice was soft, but deep. “Yes, of course I want you, Aimee…,” he paused, his hand still rested on her breast, “…but are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to pressure you into anything. God knows how much I’ve wanted you since last summer, but I can wait. I know it will happen for us soon enough.”

  “No, I’m ready now, Dylan.”

  “Are you sure?”

  Tears pooled in her eyes from the passion that consumed her. Aimee waited briefly until the lump in her throat cleared. “I’m more sure of that than anything in my life. I love you, and I want you. I’m scared, but I know you will be here for me.”

  Dylan’s eyes narrowed. His hand slid off Aimee's bra and down her stomach. “You’re scared? I won’t hurt you. I promise I’ll be gentle.”

  “I know you will. It’s just that…” Aimee paused and sighed uncomfortably. “…I’m a…virgin.” She stared timidly into his eyes. Her confession had been difficult to admit. She was probably the only eighteen year old virgin at East Medford. Instantly his hand sailed to her hip and rested on top of her jeans. His eyes studied hers.

  “A virgin?!”

  “Yes, a virgin.” He had promised not to physically hurt her, but her feelings were a little bruised by his reaction.

  “Like you’ve never had sex before?!” he said, his voice still low, but rising slightly with each word.

  Feeling the desire drain from her, Aimee glanced away and answered, “No, never.”

  Dylan tilted his head back with his eyes closed, shook his head, then gazed back at Aimee
. For a few seconds, yet what stretched forever, he scrutinized her face. He took his hands from her hips and moved up her back on top of her shirt.

  “God, Aimee, I’m so ready for you, but I don’t wanna force you into anything until you’re absolutely positive you are ready, and then everything will be perfect. We won’t have just sex. We will make love. There won’t be any doubt.”

  Aimee wanted him now more than the air her lungs craved, but she realized the magical moment was over. It would happen, just not tonight. He wanted her, too, but he wasn’t willing to take her virginity, at least not today. Aimee prayed, Our perfect moment will come again soon. She sighed quietly.

  Dylan started the FJ. Aimee squirmed back into the seat, then looked into the mirror while she raked her fingers through her tangled, damp hair, and slid a finger under her eyes to remove the mascara smudge. She smiled at Dylan after she flipped up the visor.

  “Dylan, you're probably the only eighteen year old male alive that would worry about my virtue. You are so a gentleman.”

  He reached over and eased his fingers into hers, then pulled Aimee's hand to his lips and gingerly kissed it. “You don’t know how hard that really was. I love you, and you make me freakin’ crazy with your beautiful body. Oh man, every time I’m near you it’s all I can do to keep my hands off of you. Damn, I want you so bad...but,” he paused and sighed, then finished, “I can wait until the time is right.”

  They pulled out of the desolate parking lot onto the main road and drove to Dylan’s house in a sprinkle. Their clothes were still dripping wet. Dylan wanted some dry clothes and dinner. His stepsister, Kara, had a gigantic closet full of clothes she stored for visits home from college. He griped she had more clothes than a department store, probably most still had tags, so Aimee could pick out an entire new outfit. Before getting into the subdivision they stopped at the main intersection to wait at the red light. Aimee reached over, turned up the radio, and glanced out the side window at the passing traffic mindlessly drumming her fingers to the music. Her mouth dropped, but nothing could come out at first. Then her heart skipped. She spotted it - the Lexus. Her black Lexus! It crept through the intersection at an incredibly measured pace, then suddenly tore down the street. Dylan’s head whipped towards Aimee and he caught the terror on her face, then followed her shaking finger.