by SC Alban
Shaking my head, I ignored my racing pulse and pulled the car door closed. Sitting in the small cabin, the outside noise shut out, I rested against the seat, closed my eyes, and waited for my heart rate to return to its normal pace.
What was going on with me? Smiling at Jay? Finding his situation amusing? I was losing it. Maybe I was putting too much pressure on myself. That must be what was causing all this heart flipping, butterfly swarming stuff. Not to mention all that cupid nonsense. Like really? Did I actually think Amadeo was at the rally?
I lifted my head and laughed before turning the key in the ignition. My trusty steed started right up, despite the cold outside. I glanced at the time on the radio face. Good, there were still thirty minutes before lunch was over and I had to be back for fifth period. Waiting a minute longer for traffic to clear out of the lot, I zipped out of my space and headed west along the main street. With the rally’s noise still residually pounding in my head, I needed a short drive alone. I just hoped I’d be able to clear out the clutter and be ready for the final two classes of the day before I returned.
Fifth period art flew by, and before I knew it, my mood was much improved. I finished the final touches of my still life and by the time the bell rang, I left with a smile on my face. Too bad sixth period was a joke. Or at least a joke on me.
Like every other class, Home Ec was all about the final project. The one I was supposed to be working on with my partner who happened to be MIA…again. I pulled out my phone and settled into the latest download on my Kindle app, A Separate Peace. I flicked through the pages and wondered if the main character would ever understand he was investing too much emotion into his relationships. Would he ever realize his life could be so much simpler if he just detached?
Hunched over the kitchen counter, I grunted at Jay’s empty chair. I shook my head in judgment. Not a shocker. At least he had the decency to tell me about it today. What a flake. How he even held a passing grade was beyond me, though it wasn’t my concern. The only thing I cared about was his prompt attendance on the day of the final. I opened the school’s app and reviewed my grades. All A’s and a D. Minus. The vein in my neck throbbed. How could I be so close to blowing it? Three and a half years of lunch dates with my textbooks, and endless nights studying would all be in vain if I had to return next semester because of a freaking elective credit.
No need to panic. Just keep to the plan, I reassured myself.
This wasn’t the time to freak out. I was going to do this. It would happen. And I should be proud, not the borderline basket case I’d been in the gym. After all, I was graduating early—no small feat any way you cut it. Strengthened with a new resolve, I flipped through my draft recipe cards once more.
No use complaining about it now, I thought. Just finish the assignment. That’s all that matters.
No more irritating high school crap. No more annoying Jay. My stomach squeezed tight, and I stopped. Something felt different. Could all these internal gymnastics be for a boy? Nope. Nope. Absolutely not. It was the most ridiculous thing I’d thought in a long time. Didn’t matter that he’d been the closest I had to an actual acquaintance in three years, there was no way I was feeling sentimental about him. Not seeing him daily should be a welcome respite. The knot twisted and turned again. I pushed my hands against my middle as I chastised my belly.
Traitor.
As the dismissal bell rang, I shoved my phone into my back pocket and made my way to the front of the class.
“Now, remember,” Ms. O’Dowd began, her tone high and jolly, “you’ll need to turn in the recipes for each course of your meal as part of the assignment. Please take as many cards as you need. Recipes not written on these cards will result in a ten percent deduction.”
I grabbed a stack of cards and shoved them deep in my jacket pocket as I passed her desk and huffed. I’d be doing that part on my own, as well. One slipped from my fingers and fell under a nearby desk. I hunkered down and reached for it.
“Here ya go, kid,” Amadeo said, popping up out of nowhere and handing me the card.
“Thank—holy crap!” I yelled when he winked at me.
I jerked up to stand and hit my head on the desk. Hard. I kneeled on the floor as a ripple of pain radiated out from the crown of my head down my neck.
Laughter erupted around me.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Cooper?” Ms. O’Dowd asked.
I looked across to where Amadeo had appeared just seconds ago. Nothing. I frantically searched the quickly emptying class. I blinked my eyes. No, it couldn’t be. He was a dream. It was just my imagination. My heart thrummed in my chest as I scanned the class again. The only thing I saw was Ms. O’Dowd’s approaching feet.
I sat on my bottom and rubbed my head. That wasn’t real, was it? I reached down and picked up the card from the floor in front of me and stared. It was covered with hundreds of little heart doodles.
“Ms. Cooper, those cards are for the final assignment, not for you to use as a personal scratch pad.” Ms. O’Dowd was now standing over me.
“I didn’t do this,” I said as I stood.
Ms. O’Dowd raised a brow. “You didn’t? Then who did?”
I opened my mouth, but snapped it shut. What could I tell her? That a cupid forged from my overactive imagination drew all over my homework? I shook my head and stuffed the card in my pocket.
“Never mind,” I mumbled.
“I’ll expect the assignment without drawings.”
I nodded and waited as she walked away. Once she was back at her desk, I snatched my backpack and jacket and flew out of class, my heart thundering as my brain tried to reconcile what just happened. I opened my jaw, and it cracked. I blinked in surprise. I hadn’t realized my teeth had been clenched so tight. Was I having a breakdown? Was this what is was like to have a complete intellectual crash? I chewed on my nail as I scurried down the hall. One minute, Amadeo was crouched down under the desk with me. And the next, he was gone. It didn’t make sense. Could dreams appear when you were awake? Ugh. Why was this happening? The universe must hate me.
I made a beeline to the bathroom. It was empty. Thank god. I tossed my backpack to the ground as I stood in front of the sink and turned the faucet on. Bending over, I splashed water on my face and tried to push the panic away.
Be calm. Don’t freak out. You’re not losing your mind.
There had to be a rational explanation. Something I wasn’t thinking of. Something I was missing. I reached over and snatched a paper towel from the holder and patted my face dry.
“Stay cool, Megan,” I whispered to my reflection. “It was just your imagination.”
“What was your imagination?”
My eyes popped out of my head as I gaped into the mirror. There, standing against a stall door behind me, was the cupid from my dream.
“You’re not real. You’re not real,” I repeated over and over, shaking my head.
Amadeo placed his hands on his hips and tilted his head.
“You’ve got to be kidding me, Megan. Are we gonna have to do this every time?”
I squeezed my eyes shut. “It was just a dream. Just a dream.”
“For Venus’s sake! Open your eyes, human. I am not part of your imagination.” He shifted on his hip. “Look at me. I’m here. I’m real. And I’m starting to get a little offended.”
I opened my eyes a tiny crack and peeked into the mirror. Amadeo stood in his maroon coat, his white patent leather shoe tapping on the tile floor. I took a deep breath and turned around. He didn’t disappear. Taking three steps forward, I stretched my hand out before me and pushed against his shoulder.
“Ow!” he cried, bringing his hand up to hold it. “Watch it. It still hurts from when you mowed me over.” He rubbed the injured spot. “Which brings me to the reason I’m here; have you come to a decision?”
“Holy. Crap,” I said running my hands through my hair. “You’re not a dream. You’re real.”
“Seriously? Of all the humans in all t
he world…” He rubbed his temple with his fingers.
“I can’t believe it,” I said to myself. “No, it can’t be real. This doesn’t happen.”
“Well, you better get used to the idea, because I’m not leaving until my quota’s met.”
“Okay, fine. Let’s just say you’re real—”
“I am.”
I shook my head. “Okay, fine. If you’re real, then tell me what my horse’s name is.”
“Cosmo.”
“What’s my dad’s name?
“Steve.”
“What class did I just leave?”
“Home economics.”
“How do I know you’re just giving me all the right answers because you’re part of my imagination and you know everything that I know?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Check your coat pocket?”
I bit my lip and hesitantly slipped my hand into my coat’s front pocket. When I pulled it out, my mouth dropped, and I gasped. The crumpled up pink paper bag from last night sat in my palm.
“Oh, my God,” I whispered, my eyes meeting his gaze. “I’m not having a breakdown. This is actually real.”
His cheeks turned a bold hue of pink as he pointed his finger at me. “Exactly. That’s what I’ve been saying this whole time. And since you are the cause of this mess, you’ll be fixing it. So be ready. I’ll come find you when it’s time.”
I opened my mouth to reply but didn’t get the chance. A quick popping sound echoed all around me and then, in an instant, he was gone. I sucked in a short breath and stood there alone in the girls’ restroom once more.
“I thought you said it was my decision…”
Hmph.
I sat in the driveway in front of my house and waited. The drive home could’ve been fifteen minutes or fifty; I couldn’t have told the difference. All I kept thinking about was Amadeo. And our deal.
It was real. All of it. What even was my life? I was still contemplating it all when Dad pulled up next to me ten minutes later. Giving myself a once-over in the rearview mirror, I steeled myself and got out of the car. Act natural.
“How was school today?” he asked. His voice sounded tight and uncomfortable as we walked up the porch steps and entered the house.
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Fine.”
“Anything exciting happen?”
The drumming in my chest picked up double time. Did he know? No. How could he? “No, nothing. What do you mean? Why would anything exciting happen?”
He looked at me through tired eyes and sighed. “I don’t know. I just thought I’d ask.”
“Why?”
His jaw clenched. “Because I thought that’s what I was supposed to do. Ask about my kid’s day.”
My ears buzzed and grew hot. Thoughts of a certain cupid melted away under the heat. Of course. He didn’t care. “Well, no need. I’d hate for you to have to do anything you didn’t want to do.” I gripped my backpack strap tight and hiked it further up on my shoulder.
“Megan, that’s not what I meant, and you know it,” he said, his voice rising.
“Know what? That you’d rather not ask about my day? That you’re only doing it because that’s what someone told you parents should do? Well, don’t worry, I’m not holding my breath.”
His shoulders slumped. When he spoke, his voice was drained of all emotion. “Look, I’m trying, here.”
Tears stung my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “Yeah, well that’s the problem,” I said, letting the anger drain. “You shouldn’t have to try so hard just to see how my day was.”
He opened his mouth, and for a moment, I thought he’d say something. But he didn’t. After a few seconds, he closed it again and turned away.
“There’s leftover casserole in the fridge for dinner. I’ll be at the Pattersons’ tonight. Their barn roof has a leak,” he said, picking up his phone from off the counter. “I just stopped by to grab my phone. Guess I left it here this morning. Anyway, I won’t be too long. Should be home by eight.” He stuffed the device in his pocket and headed out.
I stood in the kitchen, my hand still death-gripping my backpack strap. When the screen door slammed against the door frame, I jumped and let the tears slip down my cheeks. I threw my backpack on the nearest chair and ran the back of my hand across my face. No good crying now. Better to keep moving forward.
I snatched a bagel from the breadbox and sat down at the table to think. Not only did I have to figure out what I was going to do with Amadeo and pass a final while not murdering my partner before our project was due, but now I had the added layer of Dad problems—not that that was anything new.
I took a huge bite of the bread and chewed slowly. Of course everything in my life would decide to implode all at once. It was so on-brand for me. I let my head fall onto the table’s surface and closed my eyes.
Everything will work out just fine, I told myself. You’ll see, it’ll all be great.
Yeah, just great.
Chapter Six
A tree branch rapped on the glass pane. Winter was approaching, and the weather was showing its inclement side—the winds always picked up before a big storm. So naturally, as mid-December settled in, the early morning breeze was just enough to jostle the tree branch, creating a light but consistent knock on my window.
I squeezed my eyes tighter, willing myself to ignore the irritant in exchange for five more minutes of sleep. Too late. My mind was already stretching its arms and legs like a cat waking up from a long nap in front of the fire. I grunted in disapproval and turned over.
“Amadeo?” I grumbled, opening one eye to the incessant noise. I inhaled steadily when I noticed the branch. “Ugh.” I pulled the blankets over my head.
I wasn’t a morning person regularly, but this morning was worse than most. Especially after how I’d left things with Dad a few days ago. It still grappled at the back of my neck and tightened my throat. As the tap-tapping continued to tease me awake, I became more aware of the enormity of the day’s situation.
Today was the day. The last day of finals. I was nervous as all hell, and to make matters more irritating, I hadn’t seen any glimmer of Amadeo since his surprise visit at school. I mean, who does that? First, he was all ‘You have to help me; the fate of the world and all love depends on you,’ and then...poof! Totally disappeared for two days. If it weren’t for the crumpled pink bag I kept within reach at all times, I’d have thought he really was a figment of my overactive imagination. He hadn’t struck me as the kind of cupid not to call when he said he would. But then again, what did I know? I was probably the only person in history to be stood up by a mythical creature. Getting flaked on seemed to be par for the course, cupids and basketball players alike. Super.
I gripped the sheets in my fists. No, I couldn’t let my mood get the best of me. I should be excited, dammit. Excited to move on. Excited to leave my non-existent friends. Excited to leave Jay and all his petty little annoyances behind.
My belly clenched. I placed my hand over my middle, trying to untangle the knots bunching up. What the hell? One thought of him lately, and my stomach turned on me. Typical. It’d been performing gymnastics more frequently, and I didn’t appreciate it one bit. I furrowed my brow and took a few deep breaths to rally the missing excitement.
The irony of my situation did not fall flat.
“Figures,” I mumbled.
I’d been planning for this morning for the past three years, and now that the day had actually arrived, I felt…sick. My stomach heaved again. I groaned at the thought of having to crawl out of bed. It was all so anticlimactic.
But I should’ve been used to it. And I was sure this was what being an adult was about. One let down after the next. As much as my father did his best to make sure I wasn’t entirely forgotten—to remind me I still existed with obligatory holiday presents and queries into my day—his heart wasn’t in it. The magic was gone. Besides, what fun are presents when there’s no one to share in the excitement? When the cake
is only eaten by one person? I didn’t know why I’d expected anything else, cupid or no.
“Well, Megan,” I whispered. “Let’s get this over with.”
I tossed the covers off and sat up. The chill of the morning air had crept into my room, leaving goosebumps on my skin. Swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress, I dangled them for a moment.
Looking out the window, I glared at the offending branch as it swung back and forth in the breeze. It hadn’t snowed yet, but it was getting close. The sky was steel grey. The clouds lingered, heavy and low. Nothing against snow, but the last thing I needed was a delay in my goals, and a possible snowstorm meant a possible snow day, which could lead to a possible postponement on my final semester grades.
No, thank you.
I had a plan to follow, and nothing was going to stop me. Jay’s face flashed through my mind, his hazel eyes twinkling. Well, maybe one thing... if he didn’t pull through.
“Ugh.” My voice was low with disgust. He’d better not mess things up. I sucked in a breath and held it a second before letting it out, my mind set. I could only control my actions. Jay would either show up, or he wouldn’t. And Amadeo would come when he was ready.
“Let’s do this.”
I glanced outside once more and stood and stretched. The minute my feet touched the floorboards, my entire body woke up; shivers shot from my feet straight through to my head. Not surprising. That usually happened when it was fifty degrees inside the house. Dad never had liked to run the heater much.
Before another shiver took control, I grabbed my favorite pair of jeans, the ones which made my butt look great—though I didn’t know who’d be looking—a long-sleeve thermal, my lucky flannel shirt, and some knee-high socks with an all-over hedgehog print. Running into the bathroom, an overall feeling of unease spurring me on, I hurried and dressed for the day.
