Disconnected (5 page)

Chapter Eight

The things that have been bothering me over the past few weeks are really starting to weigh heavily on my mind. Everything seems to hit me at once as I drag myself to fifth period English Literature. The only thing keeping me going is Amelia's positive attitude (for once), since this is the time of day she sees Matt.

Her fleeting thoughts of him seem to quell some of the worries I've been having. I still can't find my phone, still don't understand why Amelia and I can't get along. And I hate the fact that she's been blocking so many things from my past. I know she is holding it to use it as ammo to hurt me eventually. I feel defenseless at this point.

But all that thinking I've wasted my brain on is pushed onto the back burner when Amelia sets her eyes on Matt.

He's sitting at the far end of the classroom and is talking to his buddy Lance. They're laughing and joking around about something—hopefully not me. Why I think that is, I have no idea. They aren't even looking my way. Yet when I think that, Matt looks up and right in my direction. He notices I've been staring at him a bit too long. It makes me uncomfortable—like I got caught stealing from the candy shop.
Oh, but he is eye candy, Milly. And it was so worth it.
Amelia's staring, and him looking back at me only makes me even more confused.

I try to remain calm, hoping my heart will stop beating in my chest so hard, and take a seat as class begins. Once everyone gets situated and class starts up, from the corner of my eye I see someone walking by the oak trees outside. As I take a look, I see that it's an older man with salt-and-pepper hair wearing a long dark overcoat.

I force my eyes to stay on him, hoping for a better look before the teacher notices I'm not paying attention. As I watch he walks off the school premises. I'm convinced he's the same man I saw on the bus days ago. But how could that be? Could he be following me? If so, why?

***

“Guess what?” Beth asks as we wait in the damp April weather for my bus to come.

“What?”

“I got us in!” she says in a giddy tone. “Can you believe it?”

“Umm…no I can't,” I say back at her, looking quite puzzled and a bit embarrassed because I don't remember. I can feel my face begin to blush as heat rises from out of nowhere. But luckily she doesn't notice, since the wind is making our cheeks rosy anyway. “So are ya gonna clue me in?”

“I can't believe you don't remember Matt's party coming up. That's all you talked about weeks ago.”

Now I remember; how could I forget? Amelia's been bugging me to figure out how to go, but I keep on blowing her off. But now I can hear her chatter in my mind.
Milly, you better not blow this! You better go, or I will…
“Okay, okay….”

“Okay what?”

“Okay, I'll go, I guess.” I look away before she sees the beet red confusion on my face.

“You guess? Come on, Mill. You were so excited about it before, what happened to you?”

For a minute I think “Who the hell cares?” then it dawns on me: Amelia's crush. I could care less about Matt Barns, but Amelia? God, that's all I hear about sometimes. So I play it off like I'm interested, trying not to show Beth signs of anything different. Fortunately, I haven't told her about Blake yet.

“Nothing happened to me, I'm still me.” I realize how lame that sounds, but I don't want her to be thinking otherwise. I surely don't want her to know it's Amelia that likes Matt, not me.

“Mill? Everything okay? Like I totally know you're going through a rough time with the move and all, but you seem…”

“Don't tell me—different?” I ask her. Lately it's been hard to hold Amelia in. And right now I feel like I'm on the spot. So I try to play it up. “Listen, I am totally interested. So tell me all the details.”

“Okay…so here's the thing. Jenny Stevens said that Matt's party's this Friday.”

“So?”

“So this Friday starts our Spring Break.”

“Yeah, but I still don't get it.”

“Well I guess this time, since his parents will be gone, he has the whole house to himself. Which means he is inviting like the whole senior class. Which means us, Milly. Us. So you wanna? Oh, please. Say you'll go?” She looks at me with begging puppy dog eyes. All Beth's interested in is hooking up with Lance Sunderfield, Matt's best friend. And I know what she's thinking too. If I get Matt to go out with me, then she'd be able to go out with Lance—like a chain effect. Man, now it's becoming all too clear. We would be a foursome and everything will be
happy, happy
. Oh,
please
!

But to keep Amelia from exploding, I comply. “Sure, let's do it.”

***

The bus ride is long and boring and something foul smells in the backseat area. It's packed with people of all different types. There's a black woman and her two little children sitting across from me and a white older lady in the front of the bus, standing waiting for her stop. When that is, I don't know. She's been standing ever since I got on, which is about twenty minutes now.
She's probably a pickpocket, Milly. If she's still there when you get off, she'll get you. Watch your back
, Amelia says.

I try to relax her thoughts and mine as I have another ten to fifteen minutes before I reach my stop. I think again of all the things that have been happening. It bothers me that I don't know how the fire at Grandpa George's house started. And it bothers me that I can't find my phone.
You're never gonna find it, ha ha, too bad for you.

Amelia taunts me with her childish ways. I don't know whether to believe her or not. She is so often wrong. Again I try to remember when I had my phone last. Images of seeing it in a shoebox come to mind, I don't know why. Somewhere dark. A closet maybe? Or a darkened room? Was this before or after the fire? God only knows what messages could be on it by now—that's if Amelia's using it. But that seems so far-fetched to me. Why would she be hiding it in the first place? And who in the world would she be calling that she wouldn't want me to know?

We come to a stop and my eyes catch sight of the girl with the black hair with blue flecks in it. When the door opens, she gets on and looks straight at me. I'm sitting in the middle and off to the side, but she takes a seat right behind the bus driver. She's dressed in plain clothes with shoes on this time, little flip-flops actually. She continues to stare, and I glance down at the floor. Amelia suddenly freaks out and wants off the bus. Instantly I get up and tug the wire for the bus driver to stop at the next stop.
Milly, just get off the bus now! She's staring at you. She wants to hurt you. She knows all about you.

Amelia's really making my heart flutter. Quickly, when the bus stops, I hop off and start walking down the street. The bus drives away and I try to calm Amelia and myself. I am about fifteen minutes away from Aunt Rachel's—about a half an hour if I walk, which I decide to do—but I am not quite sure how to get there.

You really did it now, Milly! Now we're lost and someone will grab us and cut us to pieces.
“Please, Amelia,” I say out loud as I walk in the brisk air. “When will you ever stop?”

While I torment myself with her worries, a black car pulls up.

“Hey! Milly, right? You need a ride?”

It's Blake. He slows the car and comes to a stop just as I do.
Milly, don't do it, he will carve you to death and eat you for dinner, then dump the rest of your dead body in the lake.

“Umm…yeah, but I don't think I should.” The words stumble out. “I mean, I don't even really know you, ya know?”

“Oh, come on. We're not that far, just thought you might want one since I'm headed that way too.”

He looks sincere, confident, and yes he looks amazingly hot too. The whole scenario is dangerously inviting. Especially in that cool black car of his.
Milly, don't, I'm warning you.
When Amelia says that, I decide to go against her wishes. What does she know anyway? She's always usually wrong. She is going to get her way with the Matt party; why can't I have a little fun?

“Okay then, thanks!” I open the passenger door and slide along the vinyl seat. But after I get in the car, I start to feel uncomfortable, like maybe it was a bad idea. Maybe this time Amelia is right. But for once I don't really care.

Chapter Nine

Things are silent for a while. Then I try to make small conversation as he drives.

“So do you go to school then?” I say to him as I shift in the seat a little, placing my book bag down beside my legs. I think he told me when we talked before, the first time, but I can't really remember, and I can't think of anything else to ask.

“I'm a senior at Willard's High.”

For a split second I am taken aback. It's surprising to hear that since he looks a bit older.

“It's just a couple of blocks away from here,” he continues. “Ever heard of it?”

“Yeah, I have.” I say in response as my gaze drifts out the passenger window. Monee is pretty scenic in through here. In this part of the area, none of the houses look the same. There's everything from small ranch-style homes to huge Cape Cods. It's strange to see such vastly different houses.

We're silent for a while again, and it feels like an eternity of awkwardness. He asks me if I want the radio on. I of course nod my head “yes” and smile back, a forced smile. My nerves are getting the better of me, but I try to act cool about it. “So what kind of music are you into?” I ask him as he's turning the channels.

“Well I like all kinds really, 'cept country. Can't stand it. What about you?”

I can see he gets a kick out of bouncing it back to me. Yet I hesitate. I begin to wonder why he is being so nice to me. What's the interest?

“So?” he asks.

“So what?”

“So what about you?” he says again. “Do you like country or no?”

Instantly I feel a flushing on my cheeks. I hope they're not too red. I'm embarrassed I let my mind wander a bit too much, so I quickly answer. “Yeah, me? Nah…I can't stand it either.”

I feel oddly at ease with him now. He sounds genuinely interested in what I have to say, even if it's mindless chatter. But it's inviting enough to want to continue the music conversation. “It really isn't my kind of taste. You're right. It does kinda suck, actually, if you think about it. But everything else I can listen to. It's cool.” I stop, thinking I've been rambling on a bit.

“Yeah, I'm going to an August Januarys concert soon with my brother and a few friends of mine. Like them?” he asks, pulling up in Aunt Rachel's driveway.

“Oh, yeah. I love them too.”
Great! So you and mister mysterious have something in common, how good for you two.
Amelia's sarcastic comments weasel into my thoughts. I can tell she's getting jealous.

He puts the car into park, gets out and walks around to open my door.

“Oh, uh, you don't have to do that,” I tell him through the glass window as I wave my hands “no.”

“No problem, I want to.” He opens the door. I'm impressed with his gentleman-like demeanor. Blake doesn't look like that type of guy, the courteous type I mean. He seems more like a bad boy. Or at least that's how he presents himself—a little dark, a little edgy. But a lot of what I like. Amelia must be ticked right now, since I disobeyed her orders not to get into Blake's car. But she was wrong again, for the umpteenth time.

I pull out my book bag. It seems to be caught on something, so I tug even harder and finally jerk it off of whatever it was snagged on.

“So you got plans for the weekend?” Blake asks as we both walk up the driveway.

“Umm…kinda, there's this party. I don't really want to go but Am…I mean my friend Beth wants to. The guy's having like the whole senior class there. You wanna go? I mean, no one will even notice you're from another school. It's Friday night. He lives on Lawler and 105th Street. Know where that is?” Again I am rambling way too much, yet he doesn't stop me.

“Yeah, my company works around there, too.” He gives me another smile, looking confident that he knows the area.

“So you'll go?” It just comes out of nowhere. I have so surprised myself by being so direct that I can actually see the goose bumps rising on my arms.

“Nah, I wouldn't know anyone.”

Instantly I feel stupid for asking. Even though he does have a point, I keep nudging anyway.

“Well, you'd know me.” I still can't believe I am being so forward with him. It feels incredibly good and natural, though, so I run with it.
He's not interested in you, Milly. Get over yourself.
It's the second time I've heard Amelia since I've been with Blake. And as I do, I start to feel uncomfortable again. “Well, I gotta go, see ya later.” I start to walk up the steps of the porch.

“Oh, wait! Can I call you then?” Blake asks, standing there at the bottom.

“Oh, umm…I don't have my phone. I lost it actually.”

“Wait here,” he says, running to his car and coming back with a paper and pen. And as he writes it down, he asks, “Call me, okay?”

“Sure.” I'm so excited at this point, I can't think straight. It's the first time I've gotten this close to a boy. Here I'm going to be eighteen in a few days and I haven't even dated. Not even close.

I wave to him as he goes into the garden across the way, and he waves back. My heart is foaming with joy and happiness (which I haven't felt in a very long time) and I am glad to hear Amelia isn't saying anything either.

I unlock the door and head inside.

***

I get in my room, I close the door and lock it. I then open my book bag and search inside for my journal, but as I'm fishing around for it I don't see it there. I start to panic, dumping all the contents onto the floor. Out fly some loose sheets of paper, my English book, a few pens, but no journal. I examine the book bag further and realize there is a big rip in it, probably from when I caught it on something in Blake's car.

Milly, you are such a dope. Now Blake's got your journal. Now he's gonna know you're all screwed up in the head. And now he isn't gonna like you anymore. I told you not to take that ride. See now?

As Amelia rants on and on about what a mistake I made by taking that ride, I start to feel totally regretful. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did leave it in Blake's car. Great! I can forget him ever liking me now.

Feverishly, I look around my room to see if I might have left it at home. I run to the nightstand where I usually keep it, opening one drawer, then the next, but no damn journal. I decide to look in every other drawer after that, first my desk, and then my dresser, pulling out all the clothes and books and papers. When my tirade ends, I look around the room with disgust that I made such a mess.

Now, you've done it, Milly
, Amelia says.

“Just shut up! Shut up!” I spit out to her. “You are no help whatsoever.”

As my panic heightens, I suddenly think of checking Blake's car, which is still parked in the driveway. Maybe I can just check inside and see for myself. Maybe it isn't too late. I'll just sneak a peek and see if it's there.
Go, Milly! Go now!

I unlock my door, swinging it open, race downstairs and head out the back way. I look around to see if Blake is anywhere, but I don't see him, so I go straight to his car. Standing beside the passenger side door, I peek inside the glass and see nothing but the black car mats on the floor. Quickly, I try to open the door to see if it's under the seat. Damn! It's locked.

Okay don't panic, I'll just simply ask him. Now where is he?
In the garden, behind the gate,
Amelia says to me.

I go to the backyard and through the orchard of trees to the ivy-covered wall where the gate is. I haven't been this far from the house before. I take a look again to see if anyone's around. No one. I'm really upset with myself and I can't even repeat the swear words that Amelia's saying in my head right now. She's ballistic at this point. And I can't calm her down. It's all my fault too. I can't believe I was so careless.

As I open the gate, I am surprised at what I see. Huge cement statues are everywhere, so that it almost looks like a graveyard—who knows, maybe it is. It gives me an eerie feeling, like I shouldn't be here. But I am intrigued by all the beautiful greenery. There's lime-green ivy dripping on the six-foot concrete walls and a fountain in the middle with a statue of a small child spouting out water through a fingertip. Magnolia petals float on the surface of the foot-deep water.

I look around, charmed by the thick wildflowers growing around a marble woman with huge wings that practically cover her from head to toe. She stands under the blooming magnolia tree. Her eyes are staring down into the ground as if she's praying to something under the soft bed of moss at her feet. I take a closer look and see that it's a flat headstone she's looking at, embedded in the grass.

I bend down to uncover the wording, tearing away some of the dry weeds.
To my beloved
…it reads. I can't make out the rest.

I pull aside the remaining leaves and debris.
To my beloved A. Livingstone.

It must stand for my grandmother, Adeline. For a moment I envision her body all rotted in the ground. I just wish I'd had the chance to meet her when she was alive.

I stand there for several minutes, reminiscing about my own mother again, until I see a green flickering light coming from the other side of the garden. It's coming from inside the fountain, so I walk over to see what it is.

Underneath the rippling water, I see all kinds of coins. And I see something green reflecting the bright afternoon sunlight.

I look around for Blake but I don't see him anywhere. I'm screwed if I can't get the journal.

My frustration rises as I hear Amelia whispering,
Milly I need it again, the release, I can't take this anymore.
I know what she wants. But I don't want to do it for her.

I take a seat on the edge of the fountain, looking again at the flickering green. What is it?
Take it, Milly. Take it for me,
she says.

Even though I've tried to resist Amelia's obsessive compulsions, I give in, dipping my hand in the water and touching whatever is causing the green flickering. Ouch! Instantly, I take my hand out, looking at the prick on my finger. It's a piece of glass. Without hesitation, I dive my hand back in and fish it out of the water. I then hold the shard up to the sun and watch the light dance on the ground like a green butterfly. Again, without a thought in my mind, I open the palm of my right hand and slice the shard across it with my left. I watch the blood trickle down and into the fountain. The drops explode in the water as if creating red puffs of smoke in mid-air. I watch the red rings ripple wider and wider and soon disappear. It's as if I've released something growing inside of me and now it's growing inside the water, escaping me—my way to be free. To just disappear for a while.

I am calm in this moment—calm enough not to worry about all the things that have been bothering me so deeply. I opened up that deep wound within me. I have so longed to escape from Amelia.