Anywhere But Here (5 page)

Friday morning dawned cloudy and dreary – exactly mirroring my mood when I woke after an hour or two of sleep – and I dressed in a haze, not thinking of anything but the next step I had to take in order to prepare for school.  I swallowed some juice and headed out, not noticing Aunt Franki’s worried looks.

The clouds in the sky followed me as I made my way to my locker, not even able to muster a smile for Damon and his friends.  I gathered my books and dragged my exhausted body through the morning, blinking stupidly when the lunch bell rang.

I piled food on my tray and sat at the usual table, staring absently at my lunch.

“Dude, you okay?” Damon asked as he slid next to me.  “You seem sort of out of it.  You’re not on drugs are you?”

I shook my head, my weary eyes meeting his.  “No.  Just didn’t sleep well.”

“Why did you come here?” he asked, point blank.  “Franki never said.”

“Long story I’d rather not talk about if you don’t mind,” I said as I opened a bottle of juice.

“Hey, no skin off my nose, dude,” he said, though concern lingered in his eyes.  “But I’m really good at keeping secrets, just so you know.”

“Thanks,” I said with a feeble, groggy smile.  “I’ll try to remember that.”

He didn’t say anything else about it as Shane and Reg joined us.  Shane immediately started in with stories about their snowboarding adventures
from the previous night and I listened with half an ear.

When lunch ended, I contemplated skipping Creative Writing but since I wasn’t all that familiar with the school or how easy it was to cut class, I didn’t want to chance it.  I didn’t want to get in trouble my first week – Aunt Franki’s disappointment would be more than I could bear.

I slumped in my chair, studiously ignoring the other students as they filtered into the room.  When Fin entered, he eyed me briefly and sat without a word.

Good,
I thought.  I didn’t need any slack from him.  My anger-demon was poised on my shoulder, waiting for the opportune moment to strike.

The bell rang and Mr. Ellis called the class to order.  I did the best I could to follow along with the lecture, scribbling an occasional note, but his voice was like a bee on a hot, summer day when one was dozing i
n the sun.  I fought fatigue with a disguised yawn in my hand, desperate to keep my heavy eyelids from closing.

I stared at the paper on my desk, the chicken scratch barely legible, and my eyes blurred as a slideshow played in my head.  Pictures of Camille’s dimpled face blew up like bubbles and popped just as another would form.  Images of her in Halloween costumes, Easter dresses
, and Mom’s heels were the most prominent.  How she used to love to dress up.

And then there was my cousin Joanie’s wedding when Camille had been flower girl.  She’d smiled the entire day and well into the night as she’d paraded around in the long, flowing yellow dress, ever vigilant of dirt and wrinkles.

I didn’t realize I was crying until a tear fell to my notes, smearing the ink.  I discreetly ran a thumb under each eye, slumping further in my seat, praying the bell would ring and no one would notice.  Mercifully, it did and I bolted upright, hastily gathering my things.

“I want that assignment turned in Monday – no excuses,” Mr. Ellis barked as the class filed out the door.

My heart clenched.  What assignment? I hadn’t been paying attention and I couldn’t bring myself to ask.

“He wants us to write at least three paragraphs describing our bedrooms.  He wants us to use details – he’s a freak about that,” Fin said as he stood over my desk, watching me shove my notebook in
to my backpack.

“Um, thanks,” I said.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I insisted as I shouldered my bag and headed for the door.  “Just tired.”

He nodded and, much to my dismay, followed me.  He walked beside me down the hall but I held in my exasperation since he’d bailed me out only seconds earlier.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing my arm, stopping my progress.  “Look, I know you don’t want to go to the movies with everyone tonight so how about if you and I do something?  Like, we could grab something to eat…or something.”

Gina and three of her friends passed us, shooting curious looks - Gina’s a little darker than the others.  I glanced at my arm which still had Fin’s hand curled around it.  I swallowed, ignoring the little flutter in my stomach, before lifting my face back to his.

“Thanks, but, um, I can’t.  Sorry,” I lied.  I could, sure – Aunt Franki would probably wet her pants in joy- but I just didn’t want to do it.  I just wanted to sit in my room with my new laptop and forget about the rest of the world.

“Oh,” he said as his eyes narrowed.  “Maybe some other time.”

“Yeah, maybe,” I muttered as I slipped my arm out of his grasp.  “I need to get to class.”

I scurried away before I promised to attend prom with him or something equally horrifying and made it to my free period as the bell rang.  Gina and her group were already there, congregating around Gina’s desk and speaking in hushed voices.  They glanced at me as I dropped my backpack to the floor and huddled their heads together to continue whatever conversation they’d been having. I suspected it was about me.

I endured their whispers and conspiratorial looks as I attempted to write the stupid Creative Writing paper.  Details about my orange brick walls and sparsely decorated bedroom weren’t coming easily but I scribbled out a rough draft that satisfied me for the time being.  I could always refine it later that night as I’d no intention of doing anything more than sitting in my room.

A shadow fell over my desk and I heaved a heavy sigh before raising my head.  Gina hovered over me, arms crossed and an empty look on her immaculately made-up face.

“Yes?” I asked in the politest tone I could muster.

“I saw Fin talking to you in the hall,” she said.

“So?”

She rolled her eyes as her arms fell to her sides.  “So…what did he want?  Did he invite you to go with us tonight?”

I fought a smirk, finally understanding her.  She wasn’t so much angry that I’d snubbed her as much as she was that Fin had shown me a bit of attention.  Obviously, she didn’t care for that in the least.

The anger-demon jumped up and down jubilantly, tugging at the leash and foaming at the mouth.  How could I not placate the little darling? 

I gave her a slight shrug and allowed a hint of a smile to play with my lips.  “Something like that.”

“Really?” she said, desperately digging her nails into her cool façade to keep it from slipping away. But I could see the cracks and I grabbed a shovel – eager to widen them.

“Yeah.”  I leaned back in my chair, all cocky-like, and grinned.  “Really.”

“So,” she said as her aloof coolness slid further off her face.  “Are you going?”

I pinched the middle of my pencil and gave it a spin as my own face contorted into false contemplation.  “Well, I told him I couldn’t go – I have plans, you see – but I think I might be able to move some things around.  I just don’t know yet.”

“Maybe we’ll see you tonight, then,” she said as she jammed her arms together over her bust and returned to her friends in a huff. 

My grin grew even as my stomach took a tiny roll.  She hadn’t really done anything to me to warrant my rude behavior but I just didn’t like her.  Perhaps she reminded me too much of my former self.  I really didn’t know and I wasn’t much into self-analysis so I let the matter drop.

***

I did hang out in my room Friday night but Aunt Franki wouldn’t allow it two evenings in a row.

“We’re going to do something tonight,” she declared Saturday as I ducked over my plate and forced her delicious meatloaf down my throat.

“Like what?” I asked with high hopes that she wasn’t planning any sort of bonding.  I wasn’t in the mood.

“Well, the only thing to do around here in the winter, really, is to check out the hockey games.  Both teams are playing tonight.”

“Hockey?” I said as I choked on a piece of meat.  “Really?  I know nothing about it.”  That was the truth but in all actuality, I didn’t want to see Fin.  Or, I didn’t want him thinking I was there to see him.  I could already picture the smug, arrogant grin on his face Monday at school.

“I don’t know much about it either, but Rita at the drug store said both teams are good and the entire town goes to the games,” she said, her eyes begging me to agree.  She lifted her fork and her shoulder at the same time.  “I just thought it might be fun.”

The majority of my being was urging me to get out of it somehow while a tiny smidgen of me was far too curious for my liking.  I sort of wanted to see Fin in action.  And if the whole town was there, chances were he wouldn’t even see me.

“Sure,” I said without much luster.  “I guess.”

“Great,” Aunt Franki beamed.  “As soon as we load the dishwasher, we can go.”

I curbed my sarcastic retort and nodded instead.  I lingered over my meal despite Aunt Franki’s haste to finish up and get out of the door.

The Community Center was packed, tons of bodies pressed together making it nearly warm enough to melt the ice.  I stayed close to Aunt Franki, afraid I’d lose her in the crowd and be forced into conversation with someone I didn’t know.

We found seats five rows from the protective glass and directly across from the players’ bench.  Several guys in navy blue jerseys and heavy padding floated around the ice effortlessly.  The helmets and face shields prevented me from identifying which one was Fin.

“So, you really don’t know anything about hockey?” Aunt Franki asked as she munched on popcorn.

“Not a thing,” I muttered, leaning around a heavyset man that had squeezed in front of me, smelling of sweat and cheeseburgers.

“As I recall,” she said, flashing me a smile, “you were a cheerleader.”

I rolled my eyes as the sweaty man settled in a seat on the end of the row.  “My old school didn’t have a hockey team and besides, I don’t think there are cheerleaders at hockey matches.”

She pulled a frown as her hand paused halfway to her mouth.  “Hm, I guess you’re right.”

I squinted at the logo embroidered on the chest of the jerseys.  It was some sort of scruffy canine with a hockey stick clutched between its bared teeth.  A wolf?  I couldn’t be sure so I concentrated on the names above the numbers on the players’ backs instead.

My heart gave a sudden lurch when number thirty-four skated past, ‘Finley’ plastered across the shoulders in bold letters.  I did the best I could to keep my eye on him but it was like trying to keep an eye on the shells to figure out which one had the little ball hidden beneath it.

If I thought that was difficult, it was nothing compared to trying to keep track of the puck once the game started.  Hockey sticks clattered against one another as players smashed opposing team members against the walls while others battled to bat the little black disk from one end of the rink to the other.  It was all very dizzying but sort of exciting as the massive crowd wailed and cheered around me.  Aunt Franki hadn’t been exaggerating – it did indeed look as if the entire town had crawled out of their homes to watch the game.

When the first period ended and the teams escaped to their respective locker rooms, Aunt Franki left me to retrieve more snacks and drinks.  I took the time to browse the crowd and wasn’t surprised in the least to see several classmates.  A loud sigh escaped my lips when my eyes met the dark, angry ones of Gina Moore.  She, along with three of her friends, was seated directly behind the players’ bench – no surprise there.

I laughed, making her gaze angrier, as I realized why she felt so threatened by me – she had the hots for Fin.  I was sorely tempted to make my way over to her and tell her that she needn’t be worried – I didn’t want the hockey player at all.  But something stopped me.  I wasn’t quite sure what that was, either, and it bothered me.

Did I want Fin?  Was I interested?

I shook my head, ignoring the confused and amused looks Gina continued to throw at me.  I wasn’t particularly fussed about what she thought.

“The second period is about to start,” Aunt Franki wheezed as she squeezed into
the seat next to me, handing over a large soda.

Sure enough, the players emptied out onto the ice and began skating around carelessly until the refe
ree blew a whistle.  They got into position and waited for the ref to drop the puck between two players.  I watched with bated breath, silently hoping for Dunewood’s player to win what Aunt Franki said was a face-off.

I relaxed in my seat as the hockey players battered the puck – and each other – until finally, the puck shot into the net and Dunewood’s players celebrated, hugging each other, jumping around, and smacking each other on the back.  The entire building went crazy – except for a couple scattered groups that had obviously come in from out of town to root for the other team.

“Great shot, huh?” a familiar voice called from behind.

I turned and smiled at Damon as he hopped over the seats and fell beside me.  “I think someone is sitting there.”

“I’ll move,” he said as his eyes remained trained on the ice.  “Isaiah Carter is awesome, huh?”