An Autumn Dream (8 page)

Read An Autumn Dream Online

Authors: Melissa Giorgio

Tags: #Coming of Age, #Dark Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Horror, #Science Fiction Romance

BOOK: An Autumn Dream
12.21Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Bernard’s beady eyes lit up. “Yes, yes, you can! And they’re buy one get two free!”

“Really?” I looked at Gabi, wondering if these things were expired and I was going to end up in the bathroom for the next week. She gave me an innocent smile as she slipped off her coat and went behind the register.

After I bought my stuff and Bernard had slinked away to do who knows what, I asked her, “When are you getting off?”

She looked
at the clock and her expression soured. “Two more hours. Kill me, please.”

“I’ll wait for you—”

“Dude, did you forget about me?” Evan asked. “I’m not hanging around in the parking lot with you for the next two hours!” He grabbed one of the bags of chips and opened it, tossing a chip into his mouth. Evan instantly turned the same shade as Gabi’s shirt. “UGH, these are disgusting!”

I looked at Evan retching and then at the chips. “Um.”

Gabi smiled serenely. “No refunds, Rafe. And yes, I’d love a ride home. We can continue where we left off in aisle five.”

My mouth twisted into a lazy smile. “Oh yeah? Then let me go drop Evan and the body off and I’ll be right back—”

“What body?” Evan demanded, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Oh god, is that what the two of you were doing? I thought you had finally done what we were discussing earlier—”

Gabi’s eyes narrowed. “Done what? Rafe, what were you talking about with this idiot?”

“Nothing,” I said. I held up my hands, afraid she was going to launch herself over the counter and attack
me
this time. “I swear, Gabi. Evan was doing all the talking, and I was telling him to shut up. You know how he is!”

She softened slightly. “I do. He’s a pain.”

“Guys, I’m standing right here.”

“A giant pain,” I agreed.

“Can we go?” Evan said loudly. “Before I throw up again? And I still need cigarettes; Bernard wouldn’t sell me any because I left my ID at home.”

“Good,” Gabi said. “It’s a disgusting habit, anyway.”

Evan scowled. “Whatever, GABI. Enjoy your ten gallon hat. Bernard ordered them while you were on break.”

She turned white as milk. “Shut the hell up. You are lying.”

“Nope.” He turned to me. “Won’t she be so cute as a cowgirl?”

“She’s cute as anything,” I said automatically.

Gabi’s face darkened as she shot her trademarked death glare in my direction. I swore the air buzzed with energy when she did that. One day my head was going to explode, I just knew it. “Evan,” she said, speaking to him but still staring at me. “Did you know Rafe is deathly afraid of snakes?”

My eyes widened. “What
are you doing?”

“Is he now?” Evan smiled cruelly.

“Yep. He screams like a girl when he sees one.”

“I do not!” I said, but they weren’t listening to me.

Evan stroked his chin. “That is interesting.
Very
interesting.”

“I thought so too,” she said with a triumphant look in my direction.

“Not fair, Gabi,” I complained.

“I told you not to visit me while I was at work.” She studied her nails. “Now you see what happens when you disobey me.”

“Dude,” Evan laughed, “you are so whipped.”

“Hope you enjoy taking the bus home,” I told him, “because I am not driving your ass back to the apartment.”

“Not fair, Rafe,” he whined, following me as I stalked out of the store. “I need my cigarettes! Come on! You need me!”

“What the hell would I need you for?”

“In case there are any snakes lurking in the car!” He was barely able to say that before bursting into laughter. “Who else will save you, Indiana Jones?”

“I hope a snake eats you,” I muttered. “I’ll just stand to the side and watch. Maybe I’ll take a picture with my phone and make it my new desktop wallpaper.”

“Dude, that’s cruel.” Evan clutched his chest. “I thought we were friends!” He threw an arm over my shoulder when I didn’t respond. “Thanks to me you got to see your girl
and
take out a demon. Your night would have sucked without me!”

“And somehow I think it would have been much less stressful if you weren’t around.”

“Rafe, you would be so bored if I wasn’t here.”

“Is that a promise?”

An Autumn Dream

 

I dreamt about Mom again last night.

That meant today was going to suck. Don’t believe me? Well, first of all, it was gorgeous out, one of those crisp, fall days where the sky is a deep blue filled with fluffy, white clouds that look like giant marshmallows. It was the perfect day to spend outdoors, raking and weeding and simply enjoying the beautiful garden you worked so hard on. Except, you know, you couldn’t because you had to go to school.

Stupid school.

It was Friday, which meant tests in three of my classes, gym class (how I despised gym), and no best friend to complain to
because she had woken up “sick”. How convenient that Penny’s boyfriend Harrison was also sick on the very same day. Wish my dad would let me be sick more than once every ten years (and I had already used my precious and rare sick day last month, helping Rafe kill Fishface and rescue Bo the kitten).

I bombed my tests. All of them. I don’t even know what they were on. Dreaming about Mom, and then waking up in the middle of the night, unable to fall back asleep, had distracted me to the point wh
ere the lines on the paper just floated around in undecipherable black blobs. It sucked because I had tried to be a good student last night (Rafe was rubbing off on me) and actually wasted my time studying, only to flunk them anyway. Grr…

Speaking of Rafe, that was another bad thing about today. Not Rafe himself, he was never bad, no way. It was the fact that I couldn’t see him because he had some afterschool program involving volunteering and I don’t know, probably building a house from scratch in one day or something equally ridiculous. The boy was nuts, especially considering he was sacrificing Very Important Gabi Time to fill up an already bloated college resume. Honestly, all the schools needed to do were watch him play baseball and they’d fall on their knees and
beg
him to come to their school. But he didn’t listen, although he did feel guilty about not seeing me, especially when I didn’t have to go to work.

Not having to spend a shift at the Corral staring at the clock and glaring at customers was about
the only good thing about the day.

At least school is over
, I thought glumly as I dragged my feet through piles of brown and orange leaves. Chloe had detention (what else was new?), so I was stuck walking home by myself. Normally I’d welcome the solitude, but today my head was filled with Mom, and I wished I had someone next to me, distracting me from thinking about her.

There was a slight breeze, and I shivered, tucking my colorful scarf more securely around my throat before shoving my hands in my pockets. My schoolbag, mostly empty because I wasn’t in the mood to do homework this weekend, hung at my side, bumping into my back each time I took a step. The block I was walking on was deserted, but a car passed by occasionally, totally oblivious of me and the dark thoughts in my head.

Mom. I could go weeks, months without thinking about her too much, but all it took was one stupid dream that I couldn’t even fully remember upon waking, and suddenly I was nine again, my excitement over visiting Disney World for the first time quickly souring when I walked in on a red-eyed Dad and instantly knew something was horribly wrong. I hated that my dreams had such a choking hold over me. How they could take my normal (okay, relatively normal) life and throw it all out of whack. Like, “Haha, you had a nice day with Rafe, now let’s make you remember how much Mom leaving hurt you!”

Yeah, it hurt. It hurt a lot. It was like she had suddenly woken up one morning and decided she hadn’t wanted to be part of the family anymore. Who does that? Who just up and leaves, grabbing one small bag and scribbling out a quick note to her husband? Did we really mean that little to her? I thought things had been good, more than good even, but I was only nine. What did I know? I was more concerned with dressing up my Barbie dolls and watching my favorite cartoon shows on TV. Maybe my parents were having a hard time getting along, and I hadn’t even noticed. It wasn’t like I could ask. I had tried, when she had first left, but even as a child it was impossible to miss the hurt reflecting in Dad’s eyes. Scared, I gave up. I had already lost one parent; what if my questions pushed him away, too?

Another car drove by, startling me out of my thoughts. If the driver had noticed me, he or she must have thought I was deranged. I was standing in the middle of the sidewalk, totally spacing out as I remembered my childhood. But I was in no mood to return to my empty house just to sit around, feeling sorry for myself. The house I was standing in front of had a brick wall; I walked over and leaned against it, sighing deeply.

Across the street, a pretty blue colonial home had already been decorated for Christmas. I said
already
, but it
was
the last day of November. The Corral was already bursting with tinsel and tiny blinking multi-colored lights, and holiday music was pumping over the loudspeakers. At home, we were a little slower when it came to decorating. And we didn’t go crazy, either. No inflatable reindeer decorated our lawn, nor did we put a tree in every room. No, just one live tree in the living room, a couple of wreaths on the windows, and that was it. When Mom was still here, we went all out.

Mom again.
I guess there’s no escaping her today.
I slid down the wall and sat down, right there on the cold concrete and piles of leaves. Usually I’d be freaking out about getting my jeans dirty, but I couldn’t bring myself to care at the moment.

Mom loved Christmas. She started decorating the house the moment Halloween was over, sometimes starting Halloween night, in between Trick-or-Treaters. She had boxes and boxes of stuff, and it took her over a week just to get everything up. When she had finally finished decorating, and I wandered from room to room, pointing out my favorite decorations from years past and gaping at the new additions, I imagined that was what Santa’s workshop looked like. No, it was probably better than Santa’s workshop. I
had been convinced he would take one look at everything while delivering our presents and decide he wanted to stay. I was always disappointed when I woke up Christmas morning and Santa was nowhere to be seen, but then I saw the huge pile of presents and was immediately distracted.

As if the heavily decorated interior, with a million little figurines and blinking lights and trees galore, wasn’t enough, Mom went crazy with the outside of the house, too. She made Dad help her; he was the one who climbed the ladder and stood on the roof, placing the lights exactly where she told him to as she observed from the ground,
her hands on her hips. It was always bitterly cold, and Dad would complain profusely, but he always had a huge grin plastered on his face as he wrapped the lights around the chimney and asked her opinion. Chloe and I were allowed to decorate the porch, which usually consisted of wrapping garland around the railings and placing light-up figures on the steps. When we were done, we would all stand in front of the house in the dark, each of us with a cup of hot chocolate, and Mom would count down as Dad plugged the extension cord in. Our house would blink on in a flash of light, complete with music, and Mom was always the one who cheered the loudest. I remember watching her, thinking her sparkling eyes and wide grin were even brighter than the lights on our house.

I had been so happy then! If only I had known we would only get a limited number of Christmases together. I would have seized every single moment, committing them to memory instead of focusing on whatever stupid presents I hoped Santa would bring. As a kid, you spent
your time wishing the days would fly by; I wished someone had warned me not to do that. I wish I had been told the happiness wouldn’t last. There was so much I would have done differently.

My cell phone began vibrating and I reached into my pocket, digging it out. Rafe’s cute face was on the screen, and, despite my heavy mood, my heart still skipped a beat. “Hey you,” I said. “Aren’t you supposed to be curing the world’s hunger problem or helping old ladies cross the street? You know, doing things that you, for some bizarre reason, figure are more important than seeing your girlfriend?”

“Haha,” Rafe replied dryly. “See, that’s really funny that you would say something like that since I’m sitting in front of your house and you’re not home. And here I was thinking you’d be moping around, pining after your boyfriend…”

I sat up straighter. “Wait—what? You’re sitting outside my house? Like a stalker? Why? You finished your unnecessary extra-credit assignment already?” He probably
had
built a house, too, using only one hand and no nails or something like that.

“No, it was canceled. And since I knew you missed me so much, I came to see you. Aren’t I the best boyfriend ever?”

“Only if you brought dessert with you.”

“Gabi,” he said in a scolding tone of voice. “Please. I know you. You would slam the door in my face if I arrived empty-handed.”

Other books

No Immunity by Susan Dunlap
The Virgin's Spy by Laura Andersen
Ghost Cave by Barbara Steiner
Esas mujeres rubias by García-Siñeriz, Ana
The Deserter's Tale by Joshua Key
The Good Old Stuff by John D. MacDonald