Fractured Light (18 page)

Two.

I looked around frantically for an escape route.

“Llona, I’m so sorry. I thought you said everything was cool. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

One.

The bomb exploded. “You didn’t hurt me. I got to go.” I turned around and hurried off before he could stop me. He called after me several times, but I ducked into the nearest bathroom, which of course happened to be the men’s room. One boy, a freshman who was relieving himself into a filthy urinal, shrieked like a girl while two other boys with dilated pupils whistled. I managed to squeak out a “sorry” before I speedily exited.

Once I was safely inside the girl’s bathroom and behind a locked stall, I slumped upon the toilet, head in hands. What a morning. I went from bad to stupidly worse. I should’ve known Christian would see right through my scheme. Argh!

“What are you doing?” a voice from above asked.

I looked up. Peering over the bathroom stall was May. She was grinning from ear to ear.

“Just having a bad morning,” I grumbled.

“I noticed. But at least you look hot.”

I rolled my eyes.

“You really do look good, but this isn’t you. Has your body been invaded by an alien?”

“I wish. You think that’s what I can tell people?”

“I know a few who would believe you. Serious, why the sudden change?”

I shrugged. “Thought I’d try something new. I know. It was a stupid idea.”

I heard May step off the toilet next to me. “You want to come out?” she asked.

I sighed and unlocked the door.

“It wasn’t stupid. You really do look amazing. Your hair makes your eyes look white. No, not white. More like the color of water in a white sink. There’s a hint of blue.”

“So you’re saying I look like a watery ghost?”

“Not at all.”

“Whatever. I’m going home at lunch to get out of this drag. I’ll catch up with you later.”

I headed straight to first hour, head down, and dropped into a desk at the back of the room. I hoped to go unnoticed, but a boy whom I’d never talked to, leaned over and asked me, “Are you new?”

I stared at him. Really?

A girl sitting in front of me turned around. “She’s not new. That’s Llona. She just looks different.”

“Llona?” he said. “Oh! You’re on the girl’s basketball team, right?”

I nodded. “That’s me.”

“Huh. I didn’t recognize you with your hair down.”

I kept waiting for him to turn around, but he continued to stare.

“Anything else?” I asked.

He blinked. “What? No.”

When he finally faced forward, I slumped my head into my hands. How in the world did my mother do this? I hated the attention.

The rest of the morning was much of the same with me causing a commotion. It wouldn’t have been a big deal if I could’ve embraced my new look instead of being such a spaz about it, but I didn’t know how to act. I felt like an ant in a beehive.

By the time the lunch bell rang, I was more than ready to go home. I headed straight for my car, clenching my keys tightly. I was vaguely aware of someone approaching me from the right. Keep moving, I told myself. I didn’t want anything or anyone stopping me from changing out of my 90210 outfit. I was through with drama.

“Wait up, Llona,” a male voice called.

I kept walking but glanced over. Mike caught up to me.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

Neither of us had spoken to each other since the encounter at Johny’s, and I was just fine with never speaking to him ever again. I kept walking.

“I never had a chance to apologize for what I said to you.”

I grunted. He was as transparent as a jelly fish.

“I mean it. I was very rude.”

When I reached my car, I turned to face him. “What do you want, Mike?”

He folded his arms to his chest, forcing his biceps up. “I want to make it up to you. Can I take you to dinner tonight?”

“Just because I look different doesn’t mean my personality has changed.” I put the key into the lock.

He smiled. “I don’t care about your personality. You’re hot.”

“Well, I do. We will never hang out for any reason, do you understand?”

His arms dropped to his side, and his large beefy hands balled up. “Any girl here would die to date me.”

“Then go find them and leave me alone.” I opened my door, but he shoved it closed, whirled me around, and pressed himself against me. Immediately, I brought my knee up hard enough to make him childless for life. He doubled over and stumbled to the ground.

“Is there a problem?” Christian called. He was jogging toward us.

“Not anymore.” I opened the car door again and hopped in. Christian knocked on my window just as I brought the car’s engine to life. Reluctantly, I rolled it down.

“What happened?” he said.

“Go ask weenis over there.” I nodded my head toward Mike who had managed to get back on his feet and was hobbling across the parking lot.

“Did he hurt you?”

“Do I look like I’m the one who’s hurt?”

Christian leaned his head against the top of my car and closed his eyes. I felt like reaching up and touching his face. He doesn’t like you, I reminded myself. I remained face forward.

He took a deep breath before he said, “Llona, I really am sorry. It was mean of me to lead you on like that. I guess I let myself get caught up in the excitement and didn’t stop to think what it could mean for the future.”

“Not to be rude,” I interrupted, “But I need to go.”

“You really do look beautiful, but I thought that before the dramatic change.” He moved away from the car.

I wanted to speed off in blaze of glory, but I didn’t. I was done playing games. I turned to Christian. “Thanks. And don’t worry about anything. We’re friends. I’m just being insecure.”

“You don’t need to be.”

I shrugged. “See you later, okay?”

“Um,” Christian paused. He looked back toward the school and then back to me. “You mind if I come with you?”

“Yes.”

He nodded. “Right. See you when you get back then.”

I drove home, changed into practical clothing, and tied my hair back, but I couldn’t bring myself to go back to school. After the way my day had gone, I felt I deserved a break.

I made lunch and then sat on my bed, eating and listening to music. My eyes wandered around the room, looking at nothing particular until I saw a yellow daisy painted onto an old shoebox sitting on a shelf in my closet. It had been months since I’d looked at it.

I pulled it off the shelf and set it on my bed. Everything I had left of my mother was in it and in a way it made me sad. She’d had such a huge personality, so to have her whole life confined to an old shoebox was depressing.

I took off the lid and thumbed through several pictures and letters my mother had written to my father. There was only one letter written to me. Very carefully, I unfolded it and remembered the day I’d found it.

It was the day of my mother’s funeral. I remembered it clearly because it was the first letter I had ever received. I discovered it resting in the arms of my stuffed teddy bear, which usually sat at the foot of my bed, but that day the bear had oddly been sitting on top of my pillow. The over-stuffed animal normally held a red heart pillow in its paws, but the heart was gone and in its place was the letter. I never stopped to think about the missing heart; I only wanted to know what the letter said.

Secretly, I hoped the envelope was left by my mother. Maybe she knew she was going to die and had written me a farewell note, but even as I tore into the perfectly sealed envelope, I knew my hopes were in vain. My mother never thought of the future. She lived every day to the fullest, enjoying life as if it were a rollercoaster—except her ride never came down. But it had come down—crashing down—destroying herself and all those around her.

As I read the words, a new (foolish) hope entered my head. The fancy calligraphy words read:

Little one,

You are so lovely, despite your fitful sleep as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders. But all this is about to change. I wish I could take you now, but you are too young and the time is not yet ripe. But I promise, I will come back and you will fear no longer!

Forever,

Your Angel

At first I thought the letter was from my mother who loved anything dramatic. I’d convinced myself that this was just the sort of thing she’d do: fake her own death only to follow it up with the biggest surprise she could ever give. I tried to logically, as logical as my little brain could reason, think of a way my mother could still be alive despite the fact I’d seen her dead body only hours before. Perhaps it was her evil identical twin we’d buried. Or maybe my mother had pretended to be dead in the polished, wood casket and the strange way her head looked as if it had been pieced together had only been a really good makeup job. My mother did have the most interesting friends. They could’ve fixed anything with makeup.

But even the best Hollywood makeup job couldn’t have fooled my father. No, my mother had died, and no matter how many fantastic stories I came up with, none of them seriously convinced me that she had survived.

So if my mother hadn’t written the letter, then who? I never once thought it could be my father. It just didn’t make sense. He was still alive and taking care of me. There was no reason for him to say he would come for me when he already had me.

I never showed him the letter. He had enough to worry about, but as I grew older, I wondered if that had been a mistake. Regardless, it was too late now. My father was dead too, no doubt spending an eternity with my mother in some heavenly tropical paradise.

When my father died, I had pulled out the letter again and read it several more times, even though I already had it memorized. I then slipped it into my wallet where it remained up until a few months ago. It had become so worn that I wasn’t able to read a few of the faded words. Afraid it would get damaged even more, I’d returned the letter to the shoebox with the rest of my mother’s things. It was one of my most cherished belongings as it gave me hope. For I knew one day someone was going to come for me, and I’d never be frightened again.

M
AY FOUND ME EATING LUNCH WITH
M
ATT AND
T
RACEY IN
the cafeteria. “Tonight a bunch of us are going to a corn maze. Do you guys want to go?” she asked.

“What’s a corn maze?” I still wasn’t accustomed to “western” talk and activities. Like when I’d first moved here last winter, everyone kept talking about how well they could “spin doughnuts” in the parking lot. I had the funniest image in my mind of what they were doing until I learned that spinning doughnuts was the same as spinning cookies on ice with your car.

“A corn maze is just what it says it is. Some guy has taken a tractor to a corn field and made a maze. People go through it,” May explained.

“Really? Sounds kind of fun.” I finished the last of my milk.

“It does sound interesting,” Matt said.

“Isn’t this beneath you, Matt?” Tracey asked.

May and I stifled a laugh.

Matt narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Good. We’re meeting there at eight. It’s the one in Centerville.”

“I know where it’s at,” Tracey said. “Do you want me to pick you up, Llona?”

“Why don’t you pick us all up?” May suggested. “That way we can go together.”

“I’ll actually drive separately. I live a ways out, but I’ll meet you there,” Matt told us.

A few minutes after eight, we pulled up next to Matt’s car. He jumped out to join us.

“Anyone else coming?” I asked May.

“Um, Adam, Christian, and whoever else they invited,” she said, averting her eyes.

“Oh.” I thought it strange Christian hadn’t said anything.

We walked toward the entrance and as soon as we rounded the small, wood pay booth, I realized why Christian hadn’t said anything. He was standing next to a girl I didn’t recognize, but was later introduced as Haley. Adam stood on the other side of him with a date of his own.