What had inspired him to do this, anyway? The curiosity was killing me. He’d intentionally manipulated me into allowing us to walk together, and I just couldn’t believe he’d done that only to stroll beside me in silence.
I wanted to move my fingers that extra inch and grab his hand, to see the vibrant arc of electricity as our fingers touched. I wanted to get lost in those emerald eyes until I was completely submerged and swimming upside down.
My eyes slid onto him quietly. His lips were slightly puckered and I knew he was thinking about something. What I would have given to be inside his head. I knew there was more going on in there than average-all-the-way.
“So.” He sighed, softly shattering the silence.
I took a deep breath. “So,” I agreed with a smile as I exhaled.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t just not talk to you.”
Heat spread through my entire body and I thought I might’ve been glowing.
“I’m glad,” I replied quietly.
Immediately his eyes found mine, and in their mesmerizing depth I saw…longing. He was just as lonely as I was. I wondered if we both realized that simultaneously; I certainly hadn’t known until then.
He forced a quick smile. “It’s nice to have some company for once, isn’t it?”
A soft smirk tugged at my lips. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
Talking to others still wasn’t one of my strong points and I wasn’t really sure what else to say, so I hoped and waited for him to fill the silence.
We diverged and allowed a pothole in the road to separate us for a few steps. When we moved closer together again, he asked, “So what’s the whole story? How do you keep ending up in this tiny little town every time your dad deploys?”
I knew everyone had heard the rumors, but it still surprised me that he knew even that much.
“Well…” I took a deep breath, suddenly ready to unloose every little detail for the simple sake of truly being known by someone. “My father, Jameson, joined the navy straight out of high school, but he was smart, you know? He wasn’t a grunt. So, after boot camp, they put him through specialized training schools for two years.
“After that, he got stationed in Norfolk, Virginia. That’s where he met my mother, Amelia Prett. She was visiting a friend, Philippa Aeris, who was married to a guy my father worked with on the ship. The Aerises held a dinner party one night, and my parents hit it off instantly. They only dated for a handful of months before they got married.”
“That’s pretty fast,” Cade commented, surprise tinting his tone.
I smiled as I thought of how happy my parents had once been. “Some might think it was too fast,” I conceded. “But love manifests in its own time. It doesn’t care about age, race, class, intelligence, or anything. It doesn’t see soft skin, or straight teeth, or shiny hair. It doesn’t see time. It sees souls.”
He looked at me then, his eyes tunneling into the pale blue depths of mine, and I wondered if he was searching for my soul. The buzzing intensity that radiated through the space between us was a little unnerving. I tucked a strand of pale blonde hair behind my ear and quickly continued talking.
“I was born a little over a year later, on October third, just three days before my mother’s own birthday. It snowed that day, I hear.”
I was told I looked just like my mother, and from what I could remember and gather from pictures, it wasn’t an untrue statement. She had been absolutely stunning. I had my mother’s white-blonde hair, my father’s even temperament, my mother’s pale blue eyes, and my father’s tenacious spirit.
“And then, when I was ten…she died.” My brows furrowed as emotion assailed me from out of the blue. I didn’t feel like crying, but there was definitely a harsh twist in my stomach. I had never talked to anyone about that. Those who knew didn’t need to remind me, and those who didn’t, I rarely spoke to in the first place.
Cade looked sympathetic and a little sheepish. “I heard about that. This place is so small, it’s hard to take a piss without someone on the other side of town knowing. But…I never knew the details.” He glanced at me quickly as we continued trekking down the faded gray pavement. “Can I ask how she died?”
“Car accident,” I muttered. “Wintertime.”
He nodded his understanding and dug his hands farther into his pockets. It wasn’t cold that early in autumn, but a sudden chill crept over my skin. I never minded the chill. Even in winter, I barely noticed it. It was the wind that sucked, chaffing your skin, blowing your hair into knots and whipping it in your face.
“Dad did the best he could,” I said, continuing the monologue to avoid the awkward silence that might set in. “You know, given our circumstances: wifeless, motherless, and clueless. But he was in love with the sea, and whenever another deployment came around, I knew he was secretly relieved to have a small escape. I couldn’t blame him.” And I didn’t blame him; I just wished I had an escape route of my own.
“And so, with no one else to keep me during my father’s absence, I always ended up with Aunt Marge, my mother’s sister.”
Cade’s hands moved from his pockets to his sides, fingers fluttering almost nervously. “Do you like her, your Aunt Marge?”
“Yeah. She’s totally quirky and off-the-wall crazy, but she’s sweet and kind, and she’s always been there for me.” In some indefinite way, she reminded me of my mother.
“What’s your favorite flower?” he asked me out of the blue.
“Lilacs. Does that count?” I chuckled as I watched my feet move, one in front of the other.
“Here,” he said, as he handed me a tiny bundle of pale purple flowers. I looked around, trying to spot the bush they would’ve come from, but I didn’t remember passing any.
“Back there,” he said, as if reading my mind. Sure enough, a single lilac bush rested just a few feet behind us. I swore it had come out of nowhere.
A curious smile touched my lips. “Thank you.”
Suddenly, I realized we had stopped walking. Aunt Marge’s driveway sat to our right, leading down to her tiny cottage. We were out of time.
“I’ll see you tomorrow?” he asked, his voice hopeful.
I frowned. “But I didn’t get to ask you any questions…”
“Tomorrow,” he assured me with a grin. “Tomorrow, you can ask all the questions, if you want. Just…” Concern flitted in his eyes. “Just, save them for the walk home, okay?”
He didn’t want to carry this into school. He didn’t want anyone to know that we were friends. Sadness leached into my bones, but I did my best to hide it.
Whatever. I had other friends to make during school. There was still that newly planted seed of determination growing in my mind that insisted I prove myself. For my entire life, I’d shied away from friendship; it was too hard, I wasn’t good at it, it wouldn’t last, or one of us would move away—but that didn’t seem to matter anymore. I wanted to prove to them that I wasn’t the bitch they all thought I was. I wanted to prove to myself that I could actually do this.
“Okay,” I agreed with an outward smile.
Cade waved and continued walking down the curving road until he disappeared from sight. I lifted the lilacs to my nose and inhaled deeply. Sweetness swirled through my lungs, touching that place in my heart where my favorite things lived. Lilacs made me happy.
I started down the drive just as a faint buzzing sound drifted from my bag to my ears. My cellphone. Before I even swiped the lock screen, I saw it on the notification bar: an email, but it wasn’t from my dad like I assumed it would be.
It was from Sienna.
Chapter Four
The stone stairs that led to Aunt Marge’s front door were shaded by flowering bushes, towering trees, and a weatherworn porch roof. My feet were sore from the sandals rubbing, so I unstrapped them quickly and sat down on the cold stone steps. The tingling relief that seeped into my feet from beneath was divine, and I couldn’t help stretching my toes in an almost cat-like movement.
&nbs
p; Blue flashed as my phone reminded me, once again, that I had an email waiting. I swiped the screen, tapped on the proper icon, and quickly began reading.
Valerie –
Hey! Guess who?? Haha, it’s me, Sienna! I’ve got some mega-awesome news that’s going to completely rock your world! Are you ready? I feel like I should drag this out a bit longer…because, yeah, it’s totally THAT big of a deal! All right, drumroll…
I’M MOVING TO PENNSYLVANIA! My dad got a recruiting job there, and I convinced him to lengthen his commute and let us move near you!
You’re still staying with your Aunt Marge, right? Oh shit. I should’ve asked you that first. Shit!
Well…HOPEFULLY you’re still living in Center Allegheny, because that’s where we’re going! Lol! We’re moving in this weekend. Will you be around? We could totally use the help, and I’m freaking DYING to see you!!! Write me back ASAP!
– Sienna
I definitely couldn’t believe it.
I hadn’t seen Sienna in seven years. Even with email and text, I hadn’t talked to her in over six months. She hadn’t mentioned that her father was almost up for new orders the last time we’d spoken, and I’d never really pegged them as northerners. The Aerises had never even seen snow, as far as I knew.
My legs jumped anxiously as I thought of my reply. I was actually incredibly nervous about seeing her again. Obviously, we’d both grown up, and changed somehow. I could only hope that we were still walking similar paths in life.
Sienna –
You’re in luck! I AM still staying with Aunt Marge during deployments lol I can’t believe you’re actually moving here!! That’s SO awesome!
I don’t have any plans for this weekend, so I will most definitely come help you and your family move into the new place! I don’t have a car, so if it’s close enough, I’ll just walk; if not, I’m sure Aunt Marge won’t mind dropping me off. Can you send me the address? Lol
Have a safe trip up north! I can’t wait to see you, either!
– Valerie
I chewed on my lip for a few seconds before resolutely stabbing the send button with my thumb. There. Done. I rose, grabbed my things, and pushed through the front door
Marge’s house was dimly lit, warm, welcoming, and tidy despite the clutter. I placed my bag on a free area of countertop and wandered through the house.
Pictures of my mother and Aunt Marge from their childhood hung in crowded groups on all four living room walls. Their parents were oddly absent from the photos, though really, it wasn’t that surprising considering they had been absent for most of the girls’ lives. They’d been workaholics from what I’d gathered; I didn’t know anything else.
“Aunt Marge?” I called curiously as I wandered from the living room into the den.
There was a fireplace to my right, littered with sweet-smelling oils in vials of various shapes and sizes that rested on the mantelpiece like a glass garden. Little trinkets hung around the bottles like necklaces. A yellow-gold dragonfly here, a pink-gold flower there, a tiny brass key on the tallest vial, a silver leaf on the squattest. It was charming… I grinned stupidly and shook my head.
A dark green, velvety sofa sat to the left. The cushions were permanently sunken from years of use, but the decorative pillows still sparkled and were clearly new. The far wall was not exactly a wall at all, but actually a long row of bookshelves. The leather-bound tomes near the far end looked ancient and dusty, but the shiny paperbacks near the front were very new. It appeared Marge didn’t actually read any of the books on the shelves—the old looked too old, the new looked too new.
“Marge,” I sort of sang as I padded from the den into the hallway. The interior of the house was circular, each room leading into another space, and then another, until it looped back at the front door. Along the hall were three bedrooms, one Marge’s, one Elise’s old room, and one that was dedicated to me. They were all empty.
Elise Prett was Aunt Marge’s only child. She was four years older than me and had moved out before the last time I’d stayed there. I really didn’t know where she’d gone or what she was doing, but I guessed she checked in from time to time.
I quickly ended up back at the kitchen, but this time I saw a note I’d evidently missed the first time around. Smiling to myself, I shook my head. Aunt Marge was out back tending to her luxurious garden. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure how some of those flowers actually grew. Pennsylvania was a temperate zone, and I was almost certain some of those flowers were tropical and polar in origin. Even so, there they were, planted outside with absolutely zero climate control, thriving in the coal-mined, gas-fracked, mineral-depleted soil.
I grabbed my bag and a soda and headed to my room. The feathery bed easily gave way as I flopped down and reached for the ear buds laying like spaghetti on my night stand. With a soft twist I jammed the little orbs into place and hit play. The volume was still pretty mild from the other night’s plane ride, when I’d left Virginia for the last time and headed up to Pennsylvania. I immediately jacked the sound up, willing the enchanting indie beats to wash through my mind until there were no dry corners. This music was my soul, and listening to it made me feel raw and whole and real, at peace with myself and the world and the universe. Yeah, it really was that intense.
Pencil in hand, I flipped through my books and dutifully began my homework.
I had always been a good student. For starters, I was naturally smart, and I could certainly thank good genetics for that one: my father was a Master Chief in the nuclear department of the U. S. Navy, and my mother had been a talented painter who also happened to be a science teacher.
Second reason I was a good student? I had almost nothing else to do. Sure, I could read or write for fun, but I didn’t think very many others would think that counted. ‘Fun’ generally consisted of games or activities, socialization, and money. Yes, fun will typically cost you a quick swipe of the plastic. Though I had the means, I still never bothered to engage.
Third of all, sometimes I just wanted to work. Strange, I know.
It didn’t take me long to finish the assignments that were due the next day, so I moved ahead. There was only one teacher that divvied out homework more in accordance to a syllabus: my creative writing teacher, Mr. Berwyn, who also taught my poetry class. The battle between Thank god for him and How pathetic are you? Stalemated in my head. It didn’t matter if I was pathetic because I genuinely enjoyed busywork…did it?
I smiled at the ridiculousness.
I thought maybe I should join a sports team, or an extracurricular club, or even get a damn job. Any of those things would help with my need for busyness while simultaneously aiding in my quest to prove my decency—to make friends, I should say.
But Sienna was coming! Hopefully that would guarantee me one friend for free. And there was Cade, too—a secret friend, but it still counted in my mind. I’d crept out of my shell for him, and that was a huge deal. That made Cade eternally special to me.
So, I’d successfully made two friends. Two. I wasn’t even sure it was worth mentioning how pathetic that was.
There were a few more days’ worth of lyrics left for Poetry, but no assignments whatsoever. We would both learn and apply our skills in class. Any poetry written outside of class, assuming it held any merit, would be considered extra credit—nice, but unnecessary.
Our first big writing project had been introduced that day. I tapped the pencil’s eraser on my bottom lip. I’d have to start researching soon, even though Mr. Berwyn had an adequate amount of time already prescheduled.
I flipped through the poets that were listed alphabetically in the syllabus, but I really didn’t have a theme in mind, so I wasn’t even remotely sure where to start. Maybe one of the books in Aunt Marge’s study would spark an idea? I removed my ear buds and crawled out of bed.
The bathroom at the end of the hall was the only room with a window overlooking the back of the house. For some reason, I got the wild notion that snooping through Aunt Mar
ge’s books was somehow forbidden, and I wanted to make sure she was still outside. Fortunately, she was hunkered down in a tall row of tomatoes, but I wasn’t sure how much time I had, so I darted from the bathroom and padded quietly into the den.
It was very still. The only noise was the ticking of a broken cuckoo clock with a bird that no longer popped out and cooed. Soft light filtered in through the windows, illuminating the dust motes that hovered almost stagnantly in the stale air. I glanced at the shiny new titles, but slid past them to the tattered leather-bound volumes instead. They caught my attention like a knock at the door.
Alchemy and Gardening, Alchemist’s Guide to Earth, All About Botany, Botanist’s Bane: Poisonous Plants, Botanophilia and You, Carving Earth: A History of Influence… The list continued on and on from A to Z, and one stood out, successfully creating that spark I had hoped for: The Elemental Basics: Wind, Water, Fire, and Earth.
Anxiety curled up my spine and tingled through my hair. Would Aunt Marge notice if I borrowed this book? Of course not, I reminded myself sternly. The books had clearly been untouched for quite some time, but the anxiety remained as I touched a finger to the top of the spine and slowly slid the old tome to the edge of the shelf. They were untouched, but were they unmonitored? For goodness sake, it didn’t matter! They were books about plants for crying out loud, not confidential government materials! I pulled it the rest of the way from the shelf, then spaced the other books precisely to hide the gap. There.
I had the book, but there was a tiny brass lock sealing the pages shut. Shit. I tucked it under my arm and tried another volume, but it was locked, too. I replaced it and reached for another. Locked.
“Valerie!” my aunt called merrily as she came in from outside. Panic flooded my veins and I dashed violently into my room, still clutching The Elemental Basics at my side. “They must hunger in frost, those who will not work in heat!”
The Essential Elements: Boxed Set Page 3
