Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection (21 page)

BOOK: Eternal Spring A Young Adult Short Story Collection
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“Oh.” I just got fired. My face probably looked like it had
slid off my skull.

“You’re not fired. You just have the night off.” He smiled.

“Really, I don’t mind working. I have nothing else to do.”

Just then, the bells clanged on the door. Ed and Gabrielle
walked in. Gabrielle was dressed in a long ruby red dress, her hair up in a
bun. She looked gorgeous.

“Hi, Timmy,” she said.

“Hey.” Obviously, she was wearing a prom dress and not going
with me. Did she come here to gloat? “You’re all dressed up. Are you going to
prom?”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe?” My heart sank.

“I’m so sorry about the other day. I’m sorry about lying,
about everything.” She reached over the display case and touched my face.

“Me too. I was a jerk. I just thought you didn’t trust me.”
Seeing her again made chills run up and down my spine like an electric current.
“Why did you lie to me?”

“I was embarrassed.”

“You don’t have to be. I mean, there are a lot of people in
your shoes.”

“Size seven and a half red stilettos?” She smiled.

“Except me. I have brown loafers.” I grinned at her.

“We’ll have to fix that.”

“My shoes?”

“Yeah I think you need shiny black patent leather shoes,
size eleven right?”

“Huh?”

“Come over here.”

She grabbed me, and we embraced in a long hug. Our mouths met
in a passionate kiss.

All the while Stanley was behind the counter serving a
customer. Ed walked over to Stanley and shook his hand. Stanley handed Ed an
apron and a paper hat.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“When Mr. Leonardo came over to give us your reward money,
my dad and he talked. Dad has a job, plus we’ll get to live in the two bedroom
apartment above the store.”

“Wow. That’s great.”

A white limo pulled up right outside of Leonardo’s.

“Timmy, will you go to prom with me?” Gabriele asked as she
squeezed my hand.

My mom and dad got out of the limo. My dad was holding a
garment bag. My mom carried a boutonniere in a clear container.

“What’s going on?” I felt confused.

“This is all for you, for us.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

“No lies. It’s
all true
. We’re
going to prom. That is, if you’ll go with me.”

For a moment or two I couldn’t speak then I said, “Of
course.”

My mom and dad grinned from ear to ear.

“We’re proud of you, son. You did the right thing. You
helped a family in need. Stanley called us and told us everything.” My dad
handed me the garment bag and a pair of shiny black shoes. “You earned this.”

My mom gave Gabrielle the flower.

Ed and Stanley stopped working long enough to give me a
thumbs up.

Gabrielle grabbed my hand, “Are you ready?”

“I was born ready.”

“Then you should take this off,” she pulled the paper hat
from my head. She grabbed a crayon and wrote, “Cute boyfriend” on it. “Now it’s
perfect.”

I took another paper hat and wrote 'Hot chick' on it, and
then gave it to her.

We laughed as we made our way to the limo while my parents,
Ed and Stanley looked on.

Oddly, our paper hats were the envy of every person at prom.
Sometimes, the worst things turn out to be the best.

 

***

 

Lois Lavrisa writes “mystery with a twist.” Her first novel,
Liquid Lies
,
asks the question “Would you tell the truth, even if it meant losing
everything?” The main character, Cecilia “CiCi” Coe, has to answer that
question, before anyone else is killed. Lois is now working on her cozy mystery
series,
The
Chubby Chicks Club
, about sassy southern sleuths who are neither all chubby
nor all chicks, set in Savannah, Georgia. They’re a rag tag group of friends
who find
themselves
investigating a friend’s
mysterious death, with time running out for them to find the killer before the
killer finds them. Book One in
The
Chubby
Chicks Club
should be available in Summer 2012. For more information, visit
www.loislavrisa.com
.

Back to Table of Contents

 
 
 

Potionate Love

By

P.R. Mason

 
 

"There's only one way I'm going to get him," I
whispered to my friend Gracella as the math teacher droned on. "A love
potion."

The object of my adoration, Ronny Tallsman, sat in his first
row, corner seat, blissfully unaware of my feelings or the plot. From my
position in the second row, on the opposite side of the classroom, I had a
perfect view of his profile. A faint wave curled his chin-length blond hair.
His eyes—which I knew were a shade of vivid azure—darted between
the board and his note pad as he scribbled with his pencil. He frowned and bit
his full bottom lip before scrubbing at the paper to erase a line of writing.
Then he shook his head, sending the curls swaying.

"You gotta take me to see your great aunt, the voodoo
priestess," I continued to Gracella.

"Root doctor, Tina." She shot the correction under
her breath from the seat beside mine without her head turning. If I didn't know
better, I'd believe she was concentrating on what Mrs. Blake was writing on the
chalkboard.

"Root doctor. Voodoo. Same thing."

"Not really," she said.

"But she can do a love potion, can't she?" I
pleaded. "You told me she did one for your cousin and now your cousin's
married."

"Yes but...Oh, I wish I'd never told you that."

"Constantina Dimas," the math teacher called on
me.

My attention snapped forward.

"Here, Mrs. Blake." I thrust my hand in the air.

"Can you answer the equation?" She tapped the
stick of chalk against the board three times while glaring at me. She obviously
knew I hadn't been listening to a word she'd been saying.

I glanced at the foot-long problem and threw out the answer.
"u/c = 9.352."

"Correct," Mrs. Blake said between grinding teeth,
her eyes narrowing to slits. "Thank you, Constantina."

My being a math prodigy came in handy to cover for my lack
of attention in class. My parents insisted that next year I enroll in Senior
honors math. I had to take advantage of this year to coast. Only trouble was,
my attitude irritated Mrs. Blake and she relentlessly tried to catch me out.

"There's something unethical about this," Gracella
whispered.

"Ronny's not going out with anybody, so it's all
right."

"Why do you want to go out with him?" My friend
Nathan asked from the chair behind mine. "He's a stupid jock. He plays
football."

"Yes but he also plays lacrosse," I hissed back.

"So what?" Nathan argued.

"That means he's cultured," I said.

Nathan gave a disgusted huff. "This is dumb. You can't
make someone want you with a love potion. I thought you were going to be a
scientist. This is totally a contradiction to anything scientific or
logical."

"It fits perfectly." I spoke under my breath and
over my shoulder. "I want Ronny to take me to the Spring Science Fair
Fiesta Dance this Friday."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Nathan's
breath was hot on my ear.

"That makes it science-related." I waved at my ear
as if swatting a fly.

"Constantina Dimas," the teacher demanded, making
me cringe. She was really trying to get me today.

Not hesitating, I answered,"10x minus 3."

The teacher stared at me silently for a moment and then
nodded before turning back to the board for more scribbling. "Does
everyone else see how Ms. Dimas reached her solution?"

"Besides," I continued to Nathan. "The
Chinese part of me may be good at math and science, but the Greek part is
superstitious."

"What Greek part?" Nathan asked. "You're
adopted. You're
all
Chinese."

"Constantina Dimas," the teacher demanded.
"Can you give us the answer to the next problem?"

"Y equals x squared over 3x minus 2," I said
almost immediately.

Her mouth pursed so tightly I could count the twenty-three
lines wringing her mouth. "Correct," she finally said.

I raised my hand again and the teacher fixed her gaze on me
before nodding to give me permission to speak again. "Yes? What is it?"

"Mrs. Blake. I'm not calling myself Constantina
anymore."

"What?" She gaped at me.

"Right." Nathan inserted himself into the
conversation. "Now it's Istanbul, not Constantina."

His comments produced a few snickers quickly quelled by the
furious glare of Mrs. Blake. "Do you both realize this is a serious
class?"

"My point is serious, Mrs. Blake." I ignored an
unrepentant Nathan chuckling behind me. "I want to be called Tina. Just
Tina."

"Just Tina doesn't have the same ring as
Istanbul," Nathan inserted to the whole class. "Besides, calling
yourself
Just
seems like you're bragging."

This time the chuckles bounced loudly around the room until
Mrs. Blake pounded the chalk to pulp on the board.

"Students. Come to order," she yelled, clapping.
She wiped both hands against each other trying to get rid of the white dust.
"As to the comedy team of Nathan Whitefield and Constantina Dimas, both of
you report to the principal's office immediately."

Fantastic. I glanced at Gracella and grimaced. She shot me a
sympathetic smile in return. Slipping from the seat I gathered up my textbook
and other things to slink out of class in humiliation. Nathan, on the other
hand, seemed to take a bow.

The hall was silent and empty of everything except the aroma
of dirty gym clothes. The classroom door had barely closed behind Nathan when I
scream-whispered at him, "How could you get me thrown out of class? We'll
probably get detention."

"If you're serving detention, maybe you'll give up this
stupid idea about going to a voodoo priestess."

"Root doctor."

"Same difference."

"Aghhhhhh." I whirled on one heel and marched down
the hall.

Nathan followed on my heels, chuckling. "I'm
sorry."

I didn't answer.

"What can I do to make it up to you?"

My silence left his question hanging.

"Okay," he said, as we rounded the corner to the
administration offices. "No more jokes about Istanbul."

My disgusted harrumph should have warned him not to
continue.

"But it's funny," he went on. "You know that
song? It's Istanbul, not Constantinople."

Stopping mid-hall, I turned on him, giving him my best evil
eye. "Nobody but a nerd like you would know that old song."

"I'll have you know there was an excellent cover
version in 2006." When he continued he sang, "Been long time gone,
Constantinople."

"It's not funny. My name is the bane of my
existence," I said.

"Turkish delight, on moonlit night."

I had to smile at that despite myself. "Why do I hang
out with you?"

"Because you're secretly in love with me and you want
my hot bod?"

"Right," I said with sarcasm. Not that Nathan was
ugly or anything. In fact, he was kind of cute. But in that brown shirt, with
his shaggy hair dyed green, he could pass for a palm tree. The glasses did
spoil the tree effect somewhat. Besides, Nathan was smart and funny. When he
wasn't teasing me about my name, I usually considered him my best friend,
although I wouldn't have admitted that tidbit to Nathan.

"I'm true to my love for Ronny," I added.

"Ronny's never
even spoken
to
you."

"That's immaterial to the equation."

"What equation?"

"Me plus love potion plus Ronny equals date to the
dance."

With Nathan's laughter ringing in my ears, I opened the
office door and went inside.

 
 

The tire of Gracella's 1987 Buick LaSabre hit a rut in the
dirt road, and my head hit the inside of the car roof.

"Ow," I yelled. "What the heck was that? A
landmine?"

In the backseat Nathan shouted, "Doesn't this thing
have any shocks?"

"Quit bitching. I can barely see. It's so dark. And
we're only out here so late because you two had to serve detention."
Gracella clutched the wheel. In the dim glowing light of the dashboard
speedometer, her knuckles appeared white despite her cocoa color.

She was right about the darkness. With no street lamps and barely
a sliver of a moon, the headlights of this old beater hardly made a dent in the
inkiness of the night. The rotten egg smell told me this marshy area must have
a lot of sulfur in the soil.

"We're only here because Miss Istanbul wants a love
potion," Nathan remarked.

Gritting my teeth, I didn't answer him. If I stopped
reacting to that nickname, maybe he'd drop it.

"Good point," Gracella exclaimed.

"Let's go back to Savannah," Nathan said.

"No." I braced against the dashboard with one hand
and the door with the other to keep from bouncing wildly again. The seatbelt
could only do so much. "We're almost there."

"Maybe," Gracella said. "It's been a while
since I was out here."

"Great. Now we're lost," Nathan whined.

"We aren't lost," Gracella snapped. "At least
I don't think so."

Nathan unbuckled himself and leaned up between the front
seats.

"Are you crazy? You could fly through the windshield.
Buckle yourself back in," I yelled.

"Come on," Nathan said. "If we head back now
we can make it to Buddy Burgers before they close. I'm buying."

Gracella slammed on the brakes, and I threw out one arm like
a railroad crossing gate to hold Nathan back.

"There it is." Gracella pointed down an offshoot
from the road.

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