PANDORA

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PANDORA Page 140

by Rebecca Hamilton


  “I was just thinking, you and I are a lot like Mom and Leland, even if we’re not twins like them,” I rush to explain. “We’re always together, run with the same circle of friends. You know when I’m about to freak and I know you. We have the same relationship Mom and Leland do. You know - the ‘ungenetic twin’ thing. Is it weird that we’re like this?” I held my breath, waiting for his answer as he drives.

  He finally speaks after what felt like hours.

  “Sophie always said we were freaks. She couldn’t figure out why we finished each other’s sentences and never really fought. Well, nowhere near as bad as you and her, or me and her.” I nod slightly, remembering how our sister used to tease us. Remembering her.

  ‘Please Sophie, make it. You’re strong, just hang on. They’ve got you now.’ Memories from that night begin to swim in my mind, as if it were happening all over again.

  I pinch my leg to clear my head and refocus on Henry.

  “I don’t know why we are the way we are, but I don’t want to change it.” He smiles at me quickly. “I think that if Mom and Dad wouldn’t have adopted me, I would’ve found you somehow, a hockey game, maybe.” He grins. “But you’d still be my best friend.” He shrugs. “When we find the person we fall in love with, they aren’t gonna act like Sammy. They’ll be more like Dad, and be okay with it. Accept the fact that we’re siblings, and we’re very close, ‘freaky close’ even. But no, I don’t think we are weird. This is our normal. Who cares what anyone else thinks?” He shoves my arm with his elbow and grins.

  I shake away memories of Dad putting his hands on our shoulders to keep us in our seats at our uncle’s hockey games. We’d be so into the game that we would argue with the refs and other players.

  I can’t think about them right now.

  “You know what, Stud?” I hold in my laughter from using the nickname. “For a teenage boy, you are rather wise, sometimes.” I smile and wink. “You can also be kind of girly.”

  “Shut up, Beautiful.” He laughs.

  A little more than two years ago, Henry and I were fighting over something. We were being incredibly mean and calling each other nasty names. Mom got wind of it and told us to compliment each other. Then we had to hug it out on the couch for half an hour as punishment.

  We just stared at each other for a long time. I couldn’t think of anything nice, since I was still mad at him. He finally said, “You’re a beautiful sister.” Not to be outdone, I responded with, “You’re a studly brother.” Mom laughed first, and Henry and I joined her almost immediately. Since then, I am Beautiful and he is Stud.

  He drives through the student lot and finds an empty spot.

  Great. We are now on birth control premises.

  After checking in at the main office, Henry and I part ways.

  The halls are plastered with pep-squad paraphernalia, posters reading “We Are The Trojans!”, “Mighty, Mighty Trojans!” and the like. I would love to stop by the drugstore, spend a good chunk of change on that brand of birth control, and glue them to the posters. But I won’t mess up my education and get into trouble for a stupid prank.

  Besides, what’s high school without ‘peppy’ posters and school spirit?

  With a sigh, I walk into my first class of the day.

  First and second hour are fairly boring, and I get loaded with work because my old school and this school don’t follow the same curriculum. My favorite class is up next: Acrylics. I talk to the teacher, Mr. Becker, first and he says that everyone is finishing up the last project but I can get started on the next one.

  My seat is between a jock type guy and a goth girl. I glance at what they’re working on as I set up my canvas. The girl is painting a rose bush, and the guy is painting something that looks diseased.

  The next assignment is landscape. I tap my pencil to my chin. I could do a beach, a forest . . . I’ll do the lake behind my uncle’s! It’s beautiful back there, and I can do it from memory.

  Class is about halfway over when I hear the girl say, “Hey, that’s the back of my house, but the roof has more of a slope to the right from that angle.” I still my hand and look at what I’ve drawn so far. Trees on the other side of the lake and the backs of four houses were on the canvas. She’s right. The third house to the left, the roof needs adjusting.

  “Hi, my name is Delilah, but don’t call me that. I’m not a valley girl. Call me Skeeter.” She smiles. “You’re the new girl, Jasmine, right?”

  “It’s Jaz. Nice to meet you.” I smile at her and I go back to working on my sketch. Maybe I came off as rude because she makes an annoyed noise. Jock Boy starts chuckling.

  “Don’t let Skeeter get to ya, Jaz. She doesn’t understand people when they’re in a creative zone,” he says when I glance his way.

  Okay then. Jock-boy looks like he forgot his ‘creative zone’ at home, but who am I to judge?

  “At least I have a creative bone in my body, to get it into a zone, Derik. Your lilies look like they have the flu,” Skeeter says. This actually makes me laugh, outside of my head. I think Skeeter and I will be great friends.

  The silence in the room ceases to exist when Jock Boy, aka Derik, says, “Do you know that from how you’re drawing that, it looks like you’re looking from Leland Jefferies’ backyard?”

  I inwardly groan. Why didn’t I just do a beach or a river? I should’ve known someone would recognize this. Skeeter figured it out earlier, too.

  “Do you know who Leland Jefferies is?” One of Derik’s friends yell from across the room.

  “He plays for the NHL! Oh, that’s hockey, sweetheart.” Derik explains.

  I roll my eyes. What an idiot!

  I put my canvas and pencil away. Having heard Derik, several of his friends come over and start talking to him about my uncle and his stats. Apparently, they know he has a twin sister and say she’s a “hottie”. But thank goodness they don’t remember his nieces and nephew.

  “So, how did you get to see where Leland Jefferies lives if you’re the new girl?” one of Derik’s buddies asks.

  I ignore them and go talk to Mr. Becker, who allows me to leave early to run to the nurse. Of course, I’m not actually going to the nurse. I just need to escape. I notice everyone staring at me as I grab my bag and head for the door with a flame-red face.

  I’m about half way down the hall when I hear footsteps behind me. When I look over my shoulder, no one is there. Maybe I just hear the echo of my own footsteps. But the whole way to the locker room, I can feel eyes on my back and hear footsteps behind me. I just need to get through this next hour and I’ll have a whole sane hour with my brother.

  After gym, I go to the cafeteria hallway and find a bunch of people standing around. I search the sea of faces for my brother. He’s surrounded by a bunch of girls. Go figure, new school equals new ‘fan club.’

  Someone grabs my arm and halts my progress towards my brother, and I let out a very girly scream. It’s Derik. I put an annoyed mask on my face, look at his hand and back up to his face, hoping he’ll get the message to let go. But luck is not on my side today, and he pulls me close to him.

  “Sweetheart,” I cringe at the use of a term of endearment in reference to me. “I’m sorry if I embarrassed you in art. Would you allow me to make it up to you?” He smiles, puts his other arm around my shoulders and moves his other hand from my arm down to my hands.

  “How exactly are you planning on doing that?” I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

  “I’m about to make you very happy,” he says with a smug look on his face.

  “By letting go of me, right?”

  “No, I’m gonna let you sit with me at lunch. You can be my new girl. You’re so beautiful. You deserve to sit with me, the star-quarterback. We’d be a power couple.” He squeezes me closer to him, letting his hand roam a bit.

  I roll my eyes this time. “No thanks, but I’d be forever grateful if you removed your hands,” I snap.

  He shoves me away from him.

  “
Do you know . . . ” he says through his teeth. He pauses then restarts. “You had your chance. Now you get to choose from all the parasites, losers, and players that are around here. I bet you’ll be going after the new guy now, too. I know his type. Just look at him.” He points to Henry. “All those girls think he’s perfect, but he wouldn’t know how to treat a girl unless she was wrapped in pig skin. Go on sweetheart, beg me. I’ll save you the heartache and you can sit with me.” He finishes his speech with a look, like he actually expects me to drop to my knees and beg.

  Looking around, we now have an audience, so whatever I say won’t go unnoticed.

  I fake smile. “Derik, you’re not God, and I really do feel bad for anyone who chooses to listen to the verbal diarrhea you spout off. You know nothing about me or the ‘new player.’ The only begging that will be heard will be from you, if you ever choose to touch me again. Are we clear?”

  I can hear a few gasps and snickers as I turn to leave, but slam right into Henry’s chest. Seeing the anger on his face, I’d guess he heard me.

  This should be interesting.

  “Is there a problem here, Jazzy?” Henry asks me as he stares Derik down.

  “Don’t think so anymore. I may have taken care of this one on my own, but you’re more than welcome to check for yourself.” I smile, as he gives Derik a glare that would make the devil duck for cover. Derik backs away and goes into the cafeteria.

  “Come on, let’s go get lunch.” Henry puts his arm over my shoulder and leads me out to his car. On the way out, I notice his little ‘fan club’ giving me the stink eye.

  We get out to the car, and Henry grabs my arm and starts inspecting it.

  “Henry, I’m fine. He was just being a jerk.” I pull my arm away.

  “If he touches you again Jazzy, let me know. I’m talking a bump in the hall, a tap on the shoulder, I don’t care. I don’t like him. Stay away from him.”

  “No worries, brother dear. I only have one class with him so far, so outside of that I can’t imagine spending any real time with him.” I smile. “Oh, I do know something that will make you happy, though,” I say, as he drives down the road to the McDonald’s.

  He laughs a little. “What’s that look all about? You’re not going ‘Evil Twin’ on me, are ya?”

  “I just happen to know that Derik is on the football team. That’s all,” I say around a fake yawn.

  “I hope he goes to the early training camp.” He’s grinning like a hyena. I wish I could see what he does to him.

  At least this school is closer to civilization than our old school. The break there wasn’t long enough to try and get food outside of the cafeteria.

  We finish our lunch from McDonald’s and head back inside for our last two classes. The whole way to my math class, I feel the strange sensation that I’m being stalked. I shake off the feeling. It’s probably just Derik following me, anyway.

  Skeeter smiles and waggles her eyebrows at me when I take the empty seat behind her. I shrug, causing her to roll her eyes.

  “You’re hopeless, Jaz.” She rolls her eyes, dramatically. “Who’s the hottie that you left with at lunch?”

  “Oh, you mean my brother? His name is Henry.”

  Her eyes nearly pop out of her head. Am I really that bad looking that my brother being ‘hot’ is so strange and shocking? I mean, I know I didn’t apply much make-up today or do anything special with my hair. But I thought I was at least pretty.

  “Can I hang out at your place before school? I’d love to see that, freshly showered,” she says, while fanning herself.

  “Oh wow, gross.” I scrunch my face, but then I laugh because Skeeter wants to be one of the ‘fan club’ girls.

  A few minutes into class, the door swings wide open with a bang. I slowly look over and talk about a “hottie,” standing there is an extremely handsome boy, if you can even classify him as a “boy.” He has short, curly, dark brown hair, eyes as green as grass, a strong chiseled jaw, and the body of an NFL football player.

  The kind of guy that makes your eyes bug out, your mouth water, your heart beat out of your chest, and your brain turn to mush. And I have all of those symptoms.

  I look down at my desk as my cheeks heat. I wish I’d taken the time to dress to impress instead of comfort. It’s my sister’s favorite band t-shirt. I wanted to feel close to her. I missed our traditional first day of school breakfast, chocolate chip pancakes and preparatory first-day insults.

  I ignore those thoughts and try focusing on the next problem.

  “Making an entrance, Mr. Neill? Take your seat and begin with the problems on the board,” Mr. Wolfe says.

  Mr. Neill makes his way towards my side of the room silently and sits in the empty seat behind me. I stiffen, and might even be holding my breath.

  I wonder if he’s looking at the back of my head instead of working on the problems Mr. Wolfe listed. I wonder if my hair is sticking up all demented looking or with a French fry sticking out of my hair. I fidget throughout the class, run my hands through my hair, straighten my shirt, and shift in my seat.

  When Mr. Wolfe announces the end of the lesson, Skeeter turns in her seat to face me. “So, Jaz, I’m curious. How do you know Leland Jefferies?”

  That’s one question I’m not ready to answer, maybe not ever.

  Leland’s a local celebrity and was active in the community with my mom, well, before the accident. If Skeeter figures out he’s my uncle, she’ll know exactly who I am and what happened to my family.

  “Skeeter, it’s Jasmine’s first day. Can’t you wait for her second or third day to get her life story?” It’s the distractingly hot guy behind me who says it.

  I turn in my seat and openly stare at him.

  He knows my name.

  Oh God, he knows my freaking name.

  He smiles, “I didn’t mean to startle you. My name is Seth. I’ve been hearing your name a lot today.” Crap. It’s probably my runaway act or because of the argument with Derik before lunch.

  He has a gorgeous smile, and I find myself smiling back at him.

  What else am I supposed to do?

  The green of his eyes is so beautiful, incredible even. It’s like I’m hypnotized by them. I can’t seem to look away. I just hope I remember to breathe.

  “What class do you have next?” he asks me.

  “Uhh . . . ” Damn! Why didn’t I take the time to memorize my schedule?

  “She’s got study hall with Mrs. Kling,” Skeeter answers for me and breaks the spell. I look at her with surprise written all over my face. “Sweetie, your schedule is in your hand, and close your mouth. You don’t wanna drool,” she whispers before walking over to the group of kids standing by the door, leaving me with Mr. Brain-Freeze-Inducer, himself.

  “Could I walk you to class? I have study hall with Mrs. Kling too.”

  Think Jazzy . . . work your puddle-brain and your mouth to form a sentence already!

  “Yeah, su-su-sure.” Oh my God! I can’t believe I actually stuttered.

  When the bell rings, he points me in the correct direction to get to our class.

  “So, how do you like it here so far?”

  “It’s um . . . great?” That really came out sounding like a question.

  I’m pretty sure my cheeks are going to be stained red for eternity.

  He laughs at my answer. “That good, huh? Well I have to say, Derik Little isn’t the best person to bring out the welcome wagon. Good thing you stopped his advances.”

  He heard about that. My face is probably plaid by now.

  My foot catches on something and I lose my balance and start falling. I close my eyes just as my arm starts tingling.

  “Woah, there,” Seth says.

  He caught my arm and stopped me from falling.

  “Thank you.” I smile to him.

  I didn’t think it was possible, but I feel my cheeks get redder.

  I turn to see what I tripped on and a short little redhead is glaring at me. I recognize h
er from the volleyball team. Pretty sure she was the one that tried to use her face to block my spike.

  I smile at the memory and to her. She huffs and walks away.

  Seth removes his hand from my arm.

  My smile falls and my mood plummets again.

  Weird. I feel just like I have been feeling all day.

  I shiver and cross my arms over my chest. I was just truly happy. Something I haven’t actually felt in months now.

  Henry suddenly storms over to us. He takes in my stance and I’m sure, the confused look on my face, and glares at Seth.

  Seth holds out his hand to shake. “Hey man, I’m Seth.”

  Henry glances at his hand, then looks back up to his face. “I’m Henry, and I’m getting sick of punks messin’ with my sister.” I stare at him horrified, and he grabs my arm and starts pulling me towards my class. “Let’s get you to class Jazzy.”

  “Henry, I’m fine, just embarrassed.” I try shaking him off me. “Some girl tripped me and Seth caught me,” I whisper harshly. I wish he could read my mind so he can see that Seth isn’t being rude.

  “Just lookin’ out for ya, Jazzy. I’m a little on edge since lunch.” He shrugs one shoulder. I know he thinks he’s being a good big brother, but he’s really embarrassing me.

  “I know,” I sigh.

  “Okay.” He grins. “See ya at the car, Jazzy!” He calls over his shoulder as he walks away again.

  I smile apologetically at Seth and he returns a smile of his own.

  “I have a question for you,” Seth asks as we head to the door. “Do you prefer Jasmine or Jazzy?”

  Oh thank God! This I can answer! “I prefer Jaz, actually.”

  I go talk to the teacher and she tells me there’s no set seating chart so I can sit wherever I’d like.

  I choose the seat next to Seth, and he smiles at me.

  All I can seem to think about is that smile of his and those lips. What would it feel like to have those lips on . . . Stop it Jaz!

  I pull out my English book and force myself to think of anything else besides the strange, gorgeous boy sitting next to me.

  Chapter 2

  The Giants

 

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