Silence.
“Oh, good. I got worried for a second. So, what’s up? You back already?”
Silence.
“Yes, sir. Aimee and I went to eat first, then to the prom. We went over to Trent’s after we left there, then back to the house where I switched cars. Why?”
Silence.
Aimee sat up, drew her legs against her chest and rested her chin on her knees. Dylan’s jaw suddenly turned rigid and his eyes narrowed into little slits. He rubbed his eyebrows nervously with his fingers, then leaned forward with his arms propped on his legs. Aimee keyed into Dylan's side of the conversation.
“No, sir. I didn’t see that.”
Silence.
“But I’m not sure how it happened…or even where…”
Silence.
“Yes, sir. I’ll be there in a bit.” Dylan ended the call and threw the phone onto the recliner. “Motherfu…” he started to hiss, but stopped before all of the word slipped out. He glanced over at Aimee. Fire spewed from his usually cool, brown eyes.
Aimee touched his arm. “What’s wrong?”
“Some asshole left a message to us on the back of Paul’s SUV. He’s really pissed. I need to get home.”
“Omigod, Dylan, what did it say?” The anxiety in Dylan’s voice told Aimee it couldn’t be good.
“On the hatch, scratched into the paint, it said ‘DT+AS die motherfuckers’."
Her mouth dropped open matching her round, wide eyes. “Omigod! Dylan, I didn’t…I mean, we didn’t see that last night. Who would have done that?”
“I’m not sure, but I have a feeling who it might be,” he answered gruffly, then he grabbed both of his shoes from under the coffee table. It took two seconds for him to pull them on and tie the laces.
Dylan jumped up from the couch, whipped up his phone and stuffed it into his jeans’ pocket. He spun around and yanked up Aimee off the couch into his arms. His tone changed a bit as he held her, but his body still felt angry.
“I’m sorry, babe, but I’m afraid I’m gonna have to take a rain check. You just remember where we left off so we can pick up there later.” He held her tight and kissed her passionately. The fury he had stored was still felt in his kiss. Suddenly he released Aimee and flew to the front door. Zonker raced out of her bedroom just in time to watch him from the front window tear out of the house, jump in his FJ, and peel out into the street. Aimee stood on the porch until she couldn’t see his SUV anymore, then stepped back inside. She didn’t even have time to tell him she loved him, or make him promise he wouldn’t do anything stupid. God, what else can possibly happen today, she wondered.
Aimee stepped into the entry, shut the door, and glanced into the hall mirror. Her heart froze in her chest and the air in her throat stuck with a scream waiting to escape. The woman from her journey this morning stood behind her. Her hand slowly reached for Aimee's shoulder, but when Aimee spun around she was gone.
“Come back!” Aimee screeched. “I know who you are. Come back. Pleeease come back!”
Aimee started to cry. Her legs gave out, and she braced her body against the wall while she slid down until her bottom hit the cold, wooden floor. She retreated into a fetal position. The tears poured from her eyes until she couldn’t cry any more. She remained balled up listening to the silence of the house. The only thing Aimee could hear was her heart’s thumping. Zonker stretched out next to her with his ears perked forward and his beady, black eyes watching her.
She lost track of time. Ten minutes. An hour. She didn’t know how long she stayed in the front entry, but the sun set and the house bathed them in darkness. Aimee could no longer see her faithful companion, only feel his wiry beard nestled against her hand. A car pulled into the driveway, and the reflection of headlights poured through the little window on the front door. Two seconds later a car door slammed and footsteps hit the porch. Zonker jumped up and sniffed at the door’s threshold. His little stump began wagging. A second later the doorbell rang and Zonker’s yapping commenced.
No longer shaky, Aimee raised up and switched on the hall light, stole a quick peek in the mirror, and half-heartedly combed her fingers through her tousled hair. She didn’t need a lecture from Chelsea tonight about her disheveled appearance.
“Hush, Z,” scolded Aimee, then she turned on the porch light before swinging open the door.
“Hey, girlfriend!” greeted Chels as she bounced into the entry. In one hand she had a cardboard box with a cheesy aroma seeping out of the cracks. In the other hand she had a carrier with two mega chocolate milkshakes. “Comfort food,” she said, then she sauntered in and continued on to Aimee's bedroom. As soon as she hit the doorway of the bedroom, Chels kicked off her flip flops, one landing under the bed, and plopped the pizza box down on the middle of the white quilt. Aimee winced, but didn’t dare open her mouth. She grabbed a blanket from the end of the bed, picked up the box and slid it under. Chelsea instantly ripped the box open and snapped her fingers at Aimee, then pointed to the carrier of milkshakes she left on the desk. She patted the bed and motioned for Aimee to sit. Like a trained dog, Aimee obeyed.
“What?” asked Aimee. Chelsea's acts of kindness were almost always to be matched with a good deed in return.
“I want…” she started, but stopped. “Wow! Omigod…that’s totally hot!” She grabbed her milkshake from the nightstand and sucked a big gulp. Finally she swallowed her food and began again, “I was saying, I want you to give me all of the juicy details about your night after we left Trent’s. But first, tell me how Mr. S is doing. He’s okay, isn’t he? I mean, like, he’ll be fine once this hotshot doctor gets through with him?” She took another bite of her pizza and munched while she intently stared at Aimee waiting for an answer.
“Well, Dad is Dad…tough as shoe leather,” answered Aimee. She paused, then sighed lightly as she reached for a napkin. She took a bite and savored the soft, gooey cheese a few seconds, swallowed, and then continued, “He’s doing fine. Stable at least. We’ll know more tomorrow. The cardiologist is gonna do a procedure on him. Hopefully he won’t need bypass surgery.” Aimee stopped and sighed again, then took another bite and continued chewing slowly while her mind wandered back to this morning when she first saw her dad with wires and tubes running all over his body. She shook her head and put down her pizza. “Anyway, I’m just thankful Dr. Morris was with him when it happened.”
Chelsea said, “Geez, pretty freaky, huh? I mean, I would have flipped out if it was my dad. What with losing your mom…” She stopped suddenly, the last word hung in midair. She immediately glanced up. Her eyes met Aimee's. “Aimee, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”
Aimee's eyes blurred. “That’s okay, Chels,” she interrupted before Chels could finish. “I’m not gonna lose my dad, too.” Aimee wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Chelsea handed her a napkin.
“Okay, enough about depressing stuff. I didn’t come over here to make you feel worse. Let’s talk about someone else…” She took another bite of pizza and continued yakking in between chewing. “…like you and Dylan,” she added then looked up at Aimee, swallowed and grinned while she studied Aimee's face.
“What about me and Dylan?”
“You know what I want to hear. Sooo, how was the rest of your night after Matt and I left the party?”
“Good, until I got the call this morning from Dr. Morris.”
“Well, what did you do?” Aimee could tell she wasn’t going to let it go. She wanted all of the juicy details.
“Dylan and I went back to his house after we left Trent’s.” Aimee stopped and took a bite of pizza, then washed it down with a swig of her chocolate shake.
“And?” Chelsea waited impatiently for Aimee to continue. In a fraction of a second her voice switched tones. “For Christ’s sake, Aimee. I’m your best friend. You can tell me what you did,” she pleaded with her bottom lip puffed out in a pout.
“Chelsea, you know I tell you everything. It’s just…well, once again there’s not
hing to tell.”
“No way!” she exclaimed, then dropped the crusted end of her piece of pizza into the box and wiped her fingers with her napkin. “I can’t believe you did nothing when you went back to Dylan’s. I mean, he is soooo friggin’ gorgeous I don’t know how you could keep your hands off of him.”
“Well, it’s not like I haven’t tried. It’s just…well…complicated.”
Chelsea stared confused at Aimee. “Complicated? How can it be so complicated? The dude has the hots for you. It’s like you have some kind of friggin’ magical spell over him. Everyone’s talking about it.”
“What!?” Aimee exclaimed. “What the heck are you talking about?”
Chels closed the box and picked it up, then got off the bed. “Well…,” she started, but paused. After setting the box down on the desk and tossing Zonker a piece of the crust, she climbed back onto the bed and leaned up against the headboard, pulled her long legs up and wrapped her arms around them before continuing. She cleared her throat and prepared to disclose some spicy gossip. “...you know Dylan’s stepsister, Kara?”
“Yeah, Kara Lane. She’s a freshman in college.”
“Yeah, well, she and Kelly…”
“Kelly? Kelly who?” Aimee interrupted looking at Chels with her eyebrows scrunched forward.
“Kelly, my cousin Kelly,” Chelsea answered shortly.
“Oh, yeah, that Kelly. Sorry.”
Chels rolled her eyes, then continued, “Anyway, Kelly and Kara share an apartment in LA. Kelly called me the other night and we talked for about an hour. Dylan came up in the conversation. She said that Kara told her the dude is like seriously in love with you. Totally. Freakin’ over the top. Like you are the only thing he breathes, eats, talks about, and lives for. Apparently, he even mentioned marriage…”
“What!?” exclaimed Aimee.
“Yeah, well not now, but when y'all finish UC. He is so crazy in love that he and his dad had a major blowup over you.”
“Dylan’s dad?!” Aimee screeched. “Dylan never mentioned anything about a fight with his dad.”
“Yeah, not surprised. Kara told Kelly he doesn’t get along with his old man. He is so totally into you that his dad is super worried it’ll screw up his football career. You know, like he won’t be able to concentrate on his precious athletics because you’re all he can think about.”
Aimee shook her head. Dylan hadn’t said a word to her about a fight between the two of them, but it didn’t surprise her. He didn’t talk much about his dad, and what little he said wasn’t usually flattering. She hadn’t met him yet, and probably wasn’t going to since the two were at odds over her relationship with Dylan.
After a slow sip of her shake, Aimee sighed, then said, “Well, at least his mom and Paul seem to like me. I guess I’ll just have to make sure I don’t interfere with Dylan and his scholarship. You know, that’s just total garbage thinking that he’ll screw up because he has a girlfriend. He might actually do better because he’s so incredibly happy.”
Chelsea nodded. “Yeah, really stupid, isn’t it? We’re talking football, not like it would be the end of the world if he couldn’t play.”
But it would be for Dylan. He loved playing football more than anything else, well almost anything, and Aimee certainly wasn’t going to stand in his way next year if she was such a distraction. They had a few more months left to enjoy, just the two of them, with nothing else to divide his attention. For now, that would have to do, then she would get out of his way, if he needed her to.
“Well, I’ll just have to make sure Dylan keeps his mind in the game next year,” Aimee said.
Suddenly the conversation turned another direction. Chelsea remembered something she had been dying to tell Aimee. “Hey, hey, hey, heeeey, omigod, I can’t believe I almost forgot to tell you the newest gossip about the Bitch Trio…”
Aimee interrupted, “You mean Brandi and her gang of losers?”
“Yeah, one in the same. Well, you know Courtney went to the prom with Travis, and Travis and Logan Whitney are good friends. Well, Logan has started hanging with Brandi. You know she’s gotta be dating him just to piss off Dylan, like Dylan really cares, you know what I mean? And everyone knows what a slut she is so you know why Logan is dating her.” Chelsea giggled, then continued, “So anyway, Logan told Travis who told Courtney last night at the party that Brandi, Nicole, and Randi were picked up and questioned by the cops last week about a recent incident. It seems they had a big party at Randi’s uncle and aunt’s house a few weeks ago...” Chelsea abruptly stopped her story when she noticed the sweat beading up on Aimee's forehead. “Hey, are you all right?” she asked.
Aimee's thoughts quickly returned to that night. She suddenly remembered the name on the mailbox…the Sims, as in the same surname of Randi, Brandi’s new friend who just moved here from Grant’s Pass… Her mind instantly pieced together clues to her attempted murder...omigod, I remember now. The day before my accident, I heard Randi mention something to Brandi about me. She said something unexpected might happen to me. Holy crap! Could Randi be my stalker? But who was the dri...
“Hey, Aimee,” Chels asked again, “did you hear me? You don’t look so good. Are you okay?”
“I’m sorry. Yeah, I’m okay. I think this weekend has me mentally fried. I’m kinda tired.”
“Do you want me to go?”
“No, pleease stay,” Aimee immediately answered. “I’m sorry. I want to hear the rest of the story. So what happened to Brandi?”
Chels continued with her tale, “So where was I? Oh yeah, well, things got crazy and Brandi got so totally wasted they thought she OD’ed, so Randi’s cousin just dumped her at the ER and took off. The hospital called the cops and Brandi’s parents had to get her released. Seems she is in some major shit. Anyway, Brandi didn’t make it to school on that Monday, but when she came back on Tuesday she had chopped off her hair. Logan wasn’t with her at the party, and she wouldn’t tell him much about what really happened, but he told Travis that she told him Dylan hasn’t heard the last from her.”
“What does she mean by that?”
“I don’t know exactly, but Logan told Travis that you better watch your back, too. Brandi reeeeally has it out for you, and she figures if she screws with you she’ll get even with Dylan for breaking up with her. She’s such a bitch I’m sure she could think of something really evil to do to get revenge.”
Aimee quivered. She knew just how evil Brandi had already been. She was sure Brandi could be very creative thinking of another awful thing to do to her to get even, including attempting murder again. Aimee had proof now Brandi was connected to the stalker in the black Lexus, and she was probably the person who orchestrated the hit by the creep in the white truck. One of those two dudes at the party was the driver of that truck. Aimee no longer needed a police investigation to tell her who was out to get her, but obviously she couldn’t say anything. Maybe this new bit of gossip meant Detective Woolsey was getting closer to finding the person who ran her off the road.
Aimee asked, “So where was this wild party supposed to have happened?”
“I don’t know, but I think Travis said they dumped Brandi at the ER in Grant’s Pass. I mean, can you believe they actually left her at the ER and took off? What a bunch of losers, although since it’s Brandi I would have done the same thing.” Chelsea smirked, then she lightly swept some crumbs off the quilt onto the floor as she continued, “I’ll let you know more if Travis tells Courtney anything else.” Chelsea stretched out her legs, then swung them around to get up off the bed.
“Don’t go,” Aimee protested and grabbed Chelsea’s arm. “I’m really enjoying myself. I don’t get to hang with you much anymore.” The truth was Aimee felt a little nervous about being by herself.
Chelsea answered sarcastically, “Well, like that’s my fault? You and Smoochie Face are like so in love that you’re hardly ever apart. I’m surprised I’ve been able to steal you away by myself for an hour without him barging i
n or calling.” She grinned, then gathered up her empty shake cup, walked around to the other side of the bed, and held her hand out to Aimee to pull her up off the bed.
“Yeah, I know. I’m guilty as charged. I’ve kinda abandoned my best friend lately, haven’t I?” replied Aimee hoping Chels would let her off the hook. “Chelsea, what am I gonna do without you here to keep me up on all of the news?” Chels gave her best friend a quick hug, then Aimee started to follow her out into the hallway.
“I don’t know, Aimee. Thank God for the Internet and our cell phones. New York is a long ways away. I won’t be able to come over and dress you for your dates with Mr. Hot Lips in another month.”
Aimee chuckled lightly, but the truth hadn’t sunk in yet. She knew she was going to miss Chels more than Chelsea missed her. She had always depended on Chels to guide her through her world of uncertainty, and help Aimee feel she could do anything she set her mind to do. Chels was Aimee’s own personal cheerleader.
But Chels was going off to school in New York in the fall. She was an east coast kind of girl. Aimee figured someday she would see Chelsea's name on a label in a designer dress or on some marquee on Broadway. She was that type of person. She sparkled and attracted people with her effervescence. Geez, I’m gonna freakin’ miss her. If it wasn’t for Dylan, Aimee imagined she would sink into such a dismal black hole that she would have to pack her bags and head to New York to join Chels. But that was the hard part of growing up. There would be a lot of changes coming her way after graduation, and Aimee might as well get used to the idea of dealing with painful endings as well as sweet beginnings.
Aimee said, “Well, I guess I’m kinda hopeless, but you have to admit, I’m better than I used to be.” She smiled at Chels, then unlocked the front door to let her out. “Besides, it'll give me a good reason to call you. Except for that period, you know, the one we don’t need to talk about, we’ve hardly missed a day talking to each other. And Dylan and I’ll just have to come visit.”
“You better come see me. I’m gonna be in the Big Apple all by myself…and I can’t wait. But I’m gonna miss you, too. You have to promise you’ll call daily, or at least every other day, and come see me before the end of the year. You’ve gotta be my pipeline to the Medford gossip. Kay?”
The Weird Travels of Aimee Schmidt: The Curse of the Gifted Page 26
