“You never blended in,” the Keeper said. “No matter how hard you tried.”
The Keeper’s unexpected foray into Elise’s thoughts ripped the few remaining emotional shields she had left free and shoved her square into uncomfortable territory. “You can hear what I think?”
“You’re Volán. Mine as much as you are the Creator’s. All your thoughts, all your wants, needs and pain move through me the same as they do you. I know your hopes. I know your dreams. And I know the fear that holds you back. Keeps you rooted on the edge of all you want.” She stood and prowled toward Elise with a preternatural gait, stopping only an arm’s length away. “You wanted a second chance, Elise. Tonight, you’ll have it—assuming you’re ready to face your fate.”
“My fate?” She looked to Priest. “I don’t understand. How am I supposed to answer what I’m willing to do if I don’t know what’s being asked?”
Priest leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely between his wide knees. In such a position, his already massive shoulders seemed twice as impressive. Intimidating. And yet, his voice was pure velvet. “She’s asking if you’re willing, nahina. And you answer with no knowledge of the task you’ll be given. Only with the courage and desire to see it through and earn the gifts meant for you.”
Her choice.
Her chance to claim the magic her mother had given up. To step into her heritage and earn her own companion.
If she could just face the task chosen for her—whatever that looked like.
Body humming, she stood on shaking legs and met the Keeper’s steady stare. “I’m ready.”
“I’m glad, Elise. You’ve carried your regrets too long.” With a tender touch that belied obvious strength, the Keeper cupped the side of her face. “Face that which frightens you most and claim your freedom.”
One breath and the room was gone, replaced with one of Butte La Rose’s smaller clothing stores, the pale blue walls and silver racks nowhere near as stylish as those at the mall in Lafayette. For a junior’s area, the styles weren’t bad. Just not as plentiful to choose from.
God, she hadn’t been in this store in years. Not since...
Pieces clicked together. A long-forgotten memory thrust straight to the front of her thoughts and dug icy claws deep in her chest.
Her first bra.
She hadn’t wanted to come. Had dreaded everything about it. Had cried for two days after her coach had pulled her mother aside in front of the other girls and explained that maybe it was time for Elise to have some supportive coverage considering the form fitting nature of her leotard.
The girls behind her had snickered and Elise’s cheeks had burned from the shame so badly they hurt.
She hated that day.
Remembered it as the beginning of all her problems.
“It starts when you do, Elise.”
She spun and found Priest behind her. With the tattoos peeking out from under the sleeves of his black T-shirt, his long dark hair loose and faded jeans, he looked woefully out of place in the environment. “What am I supposed to do?”
“You’ll find the rhythm. The path to walk. That’s how it works.”
“You won’t be with me?”
His stern features softened. “I’ll be there when you need me. But that time isn’t now.” He dipped his head toward the wall of garments hung on the far end of the building. The top of her mother’s head barely peeking over one rack. The color was darker, the rich dark chocolate it had been before time had begun its transition to gray.
“Go,” Priest said. “It’s time.”
Elise stood there, that old clawing urge to escape blossoming through her chest and up her throat. To take whatever measures were necessary to stay safe and disconnected.
Face that which frightens you most and claim your freedom.
Her second chance. The real deal. Or as real as the Otherworld could make it. How many people had such a chance? To truly experience how a changed response would ripple through their life.
The clothes and people around her went by in a haze, her heart doing double time. Everything was exactly as it had been that day, but this time there was more. The knowledge of exactly how reality would play out after this day adding a barbed layer of terror to each step.
“Oh, there you are.” Her mother waved her over the second Elise rounded the rack that had stood between them. “Come see what you think of these.” She held up two different bras, both a neutral beige with thinner straps and different styles of lace lining the tops.
Laughter sounded behind her and the same shame that had pierced her heart all those years ago stabbed deep.
Yvette and her friend Tina.
Somehow, she’d forgotten that detail of the memory. As if her brain had determined the two of them hearing the coach’s gentle guidance to her mother that day had been enough and chosen, out of sheer necessity, to bury the recollection they’d unfortunately visited the store the same day.
As if on some automatic track from the past, Elise found herself pointing to a white one hanging among all the others. No frills. Nothing girly. Just a simple tank style she’d hoped would do a decent job of making her budding breasts go away. “I want one like that.”
Her mom tucked the one she’d picked under one arm and picked the white one off the rack, her gaze narrowed in consideration. “I guess it would be okay for gymnastics, but it won’t do much shape wise.”
Her current self wanted to chime in. Wanted to stop and consider her mom’s words, but her old self pushed ahead, drawing her deeper and deeper into her history. “I don’t want shape. I want flat.”
Giving up all pretense of studying the bra, Jenny faced her. “Why on Earth would you want flat? Most girls like it when they start developing.”
The snickering sounded behind her again and Elise gave serious thought to crawling behind the clothes on the rack beside her. “I’m ten, Mom,” she whisper-scolded and tried to subtly motion to Yvette and Tina behind her with her head. “No one else has boobs.”
Her mom noted the girls behind Elise, cleared her throat and firmly raised her chin as she faced the bras once more. When she spoke, her voice was much softer, but loaded with emphasis. “You’re not supposed to be like everyone else, Elise. You’re supposed to be like you.”
The same words her mom had spoken that day, but this time their message hit a different part of her. Ricocheted off the experience she’d brought to the past with her and resonated with a truth she’d missed the first time around.
Dr. Nilson had essentially said the same thing in countless sessions in the time she’d visited, and Elise had worked hard to learn and grow in that area in the years since, but the information she’d needed had been there from the get-go. A lesson missed.
She wasn’t like anyone else.
No one was. Not really. No matter how hard they all tried to conform for the sake of acceptance. Now was her chance to show she understood with the simplest of choices.
Her younger self started to balk, but somehow her older half pushed through. “Okay.” The answer came out a little loud, making more than one head turn their direction, but Elise didn’t care. Just grabbed the bras her mom had selected and forced her feet toward the dressing room. No way was she repeating the mistakes of her past again, including going one or two sizes too small for the sake of hiding her body.
Her mom tight on her heels, Elise wound through the racks, knocked on one door to make sure the room was empty and opened it wide.
The change in scenery was so drastic, she nearly face planted. Not onto the dressing room floor she’d expected to find, but into the high school library behind a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf. The industrial-grade gold carpet was a little frayed and faded, and the size of the space was nowhere near as impressive as what other, bigger school systems boasted, but was redolent with the scent o
f old books. Hushed voices hung on the air around her, most coming from the long study tables she remembered all too well on the other side. Held tight against her chest were two books and a spiral notebook.
“You know, I saw her last weekend with a few guys who graduated last year. Not one, but two.”
One sentence, but the content and the haughty tenor of Yvette’s voice at the table directly opposite the bookshelf rooted Elise on the exact spot she’d been sent to. She’d stood in this same spot before. Overheard and wept silently as she listened to two other girls she’d thought were her friends pile on their own fictional sightings.
“Elise?” Tracey said. “You’re out of your mind. She’s too focused on gymnastics right now to bother with going out with one guy. Let alone two.”
June chimed in right behind it. “But you’ve got to admit, she’s gorgeous enough for an older guy like that to ask her out.”
“You mean built,” Yvette said. “Too bad she has to rely on her body to get their attention. She probably puts out, too.”
“No,” June said. “I mean she’s gorgeous. And if you think for a second Elise would put out for any guy, you’re nuts. I don’t even think I’ve seen her pay attention to the guys at school. Let alone kiss one.”
More words were spoken. An active back-and-forth debate where the two friends who’d so quickly knifed her heart with rumors in real life now stood as staunch defenders between Yvette and her tales. But Elise couldn’t really process the context. Couldn’t shake herself out of the sheer shock and amazement at how things were changing.
Was it possible? Could the one simple decision she’d made to not hide her developing body bring such a drastic change?
She blinked her eyes over and over, as if her brain needed the extra action to clear the muddled thoughts running through her head. She’d bought those bras when she was ten. She’d overheard the rumors her sophomore year.
Six years.
If that much changed, what else had?
She hustled on quiet feet to the window along the far edge of the aisle. The old oaks that lined one side of the high school parking lot outside were thick and green and the sky was a glorious blue, but what stole her breath the most was the woman reflected in the glass.
Cute jeans that hugged her curves in place of loose cargo pants. A simple, but fitted white V-neck T-shirt in lieu of her standard oversized shirts. But the most surprising thing was her hair and her face. Gone was the ponytail she’d worn every single day, replaced with stylish bangs and loose curls that hung easy around her face. She even had on makeup. And jewelry.
One act of faith—of courage—and look what she’d become. And if she’d wrought this much change, what else could she do?
Facing the long empty aisle behind her, Elise started forward. Slow at first, then picking up steam as her confidence built. Years ago, she’d waited, listened to every malicious word spoken, then crept out the far library door to the parking lot, the early spring air cold against her tear-streaked face.
But not today.
Not this time.
She paused at the end of the bookshelf, one hand braced on the solid wood as she sucked in a deep breath, then stepped out into the main area. A boy seated at the table closest to her looked up from the book in front of him, met her gaze and smiled. Behind and to one side of him two girls she remembered from the track-and-field team glanced up, waved and went back to their work.
Perfectly normal. No judgment. No sideways looks. No whispered asides.
Emboldened by the response, she aimed straight for Yvette, making absolutely sure her shoulders were back and her chin held high. She stopped less than an arm’s length away. “I am built. It’s who I am and there’s nothing wrong with it. What’s wrong is when someone spreads lies about someone else simply because they’re different.” She paused long enough to meet June’s and Tracey’s eyes. “For what it’s worth, thank you for what you said. It meant a lot.”
With that, she turned and strode toward the main library entrance. The weight of several stares pressed at her back and sides, and her palms were so damp it was a wonder she didn’t drop her books on the long trek to leave, but she kept going. Clung to the fresh surge of empowerment with everything she had and acknowledged every person she passed along the way who met her gaze with either a smile or a simple nod.
She wasn’t a victim. Not now. Not ever again. So high was her confidence and certainty she’d learned her lesson, she pressed open the library door expecting to find herself back in the visage of Dr. Nilson’s office and the Keeper and Priest waiting for her.
Instead, she found herself in the girls’ locker room. Dressed the way she always had been at the end of a practice in light workout pants and a school T-shirt. Her hair was wet and loose around her shoulders and her duffel sat packed and waiting on the wooden bench in front of her. Per usual, everyone else had already cleared out, only a few random echoed shouts from masculine voices from the basketball court beyond.
That day.
Yes, her clothes were different. She was different. But there was no question the Keeper had sent her back to the time when those damned pictures were taken. The day when her life had unknowingly taken a drastic turn.
Dread closed around her as thick and humid as the lingering warmth from the showers, the remembered pain and humiliation that had cut so deep the following day surfacing so fast she nearly choked on its power.
Face that which frightens you most and claim your freedom.
Twice now she’d done it, the emotional muscle memory still shaky beneath the uncomfortable memories, but less hesitant to respond. She hefted her duffel bag onto her shoulder and forced her feet into motion. Whatever changes she found this time, she’d deal with it. Would hold the positive manifestations of her courage close and battle to win one more.
Outside the gym, the student parking lot was nearly empty. Habit insisted she turn left and circle the back of the gym to the faculty parking lot where her mother always picked her up. But a stirring inside her urged her to do something different. To upset the apple cart once more and walk straight through the after-school crowd that always lingered in the halls and in front of the main entrance. To face those who might judge her tomorrow before the photos even surfaced.
Opening the door at the far end of the main hall, she entered the place that had been hell on Earth for nearly two years. The scent was just as she remembered it, cleaning materials, books and good old-fashioned time. The crowd at the opposite end wasn’t nearly as full as she’d expected, but a decent number of people were visible on the landing outside the glass double doors and in the front drive beyond.
Her tennis shoes barely made a sound against the green, white and black marble floors, but her heart hammered so hard behind her sternum she half expected it to echo against the white painted walls.
“Oh, come on. It’s just a little prank.”
Elise slowed at the sound of Yvette’s voice, the direction of it coming from the hallway ahead she hadn’t yet reached.
A masculine voice that seemed vaguely familiar answered. “Man, I don’t know what your problem is with her, but you need to let it go. Elise is a nice girl.”
“Are you kidding me?” Yvette said. “You said yourself you’re pissed at her.”
“I said I was disappointed. I asked her out and she turned me down. That’s not a reason to fake a bunch of pictures that’ll hurt her. What’d she ever do to you, anyway?” Footsteps sounded a second before the boy she’d always believed was responsible for the doctored images stalked around the corner, headed for the double doors. So focused from his conversation with Yvette, he didn’t even see Elise. Just punched the bar latch on the door with an impact that sent a shotgun echo down the hallway and jogged down the school’s front steps.
Elise stood rooted in place, the simple realization that it had been Yvette who’d taken the
pictures to begin with unraveling what was left of her bitterness.
One woman with a long-standing grudge. One she’d enabled over and over again by refusing to accept who she was. By running and taking the easier, softer approach. By letting her past linger and taint her future.
At the end of the day, respect for herself had earned respect from those around her. Maybe not from Yvette, but standing in her newfound perspective, Elise wondered if Yvette’s need to tear someone else down wasn’t grounded in the same need for self-love.
Such complex thoughts. And yet, in the wake of them came a lightness that was staggering. That left her feeling a foot taller and flooded with a newfound inner strength. Sunlight slanted through the double doors, calling her to step forward. To finally surrender the tether to her past and step into the warmth of today.
One step.
Then another.
She sensed Yvette’s appearance at her right, just walking out of the hallway, but Elise didn’t look. Didn’t care. The things that had kept her life in such an excruciating grip before weren’t there anymore. Replaced by acceptance. Understanding. Peace.
Outside the sun’s rays grew so bold and bright, the teens gathered grew hazy. Blurred shapes in a reality that didn’t matter anymore. The door’s bar latch was cold against her palm, but the weight as she pushed the door open was nonexistent. Pure white light consumed her. Wrapped her in its sweet embrace, then unwound its arms and delivered her somewhere utterly unexpected.
To her left a river meandered with water so still the sky’s azure blue reflected back a mystic turquoise color. Aspens and pines lined either side of it and majestic mountains striated with every color from the palest sand to rich plum reached to the heavens. But what surprised her most was Priest. He stood beside what once had been a sizable bonfire, the barest wisps of smoke lifting upward in lazy spirals. His torso and feet were bare, and his dark hair was loose down his back, but the pants he wore were unlike anything she’d ever seen on him before. A style that looked a lot like blue jeans would, only looser and a light tan in color. He stared at the charred wood and ashes, seemingly unaware of her presence or the chilled air despite his exposed skin.
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