In the Middle of Nowhere (3 page)

“Maybe he dropped out …” Gabby had trailed
off as she picked remnants of bright pink polish off her
fingernails.

“Or maybe he’s in the witness protection
program or working as a spy for some secret agency,” Sarah had
suggested.

“Give me a break!” I had snapped. “You guys
should talk. None of you have boyfriends, unless you consider
making out with Pete and getting groped every Saturday night in
your basement a relationship, Sarah.”

This time Sarah was not amused. “Pete and I
are strictly friends with benefits and neither of us is interested
in taking our relationship any further,” she huffed.

I heard my mother’s footsteps coming. I
should have been studying.

“Here comes my mom. Gotta go!” I had said
before slamming my laptop closed.

As my body swayed with the waves that rocked
and rolled the ferry, I reflected on the conversation with my
friends. They were either being rude or jealous. I wasn’t sure
which. After I had signed off with my friends that night and had
finished studying, I checked out Michael’s pics on MyWeb.

He didn’t look like Satan. Granted he only
wore black clothes, from his hoodie to his sneakers and his thick,
long hair reminded me of black licorice, but his dark eyes, which
were piercing at times, also came across as soft and
thoughtful.

He had thick, manly eyebrows and looked far
older than fifteen. There was a subtle hint of mischief in every
one of his smiles, whether he was performing a jump on his BMX bike
or cuddling with the family dog.

Michael was tall and skinny, at least six
feet, and did have somewhat of a Gothic appearance, as his skin was
very pale. But he also had perfectly straight white teeth, full
lips and a nice nose; not too big, not too small and a cute little
cleft right in the middle of his chin.

When I really thought about it, I realized
that Michael Cooper was kinda cute, but his weird note that morning
just pushed me over the edge. It didn’t matter anyway. He still
hadn’t come back to school and it had been almost a month.

I breathed the warm air from inside my jacket
and glanced around the boat. To the left of me I recognized a
classmate from school named Shawna. She was in my homeroom and
seemed nice and kind of nerdy. I thought she might know
something.

I sat up straight and cleared my throat.
“Excuse me,” I said as I turned toward her.

Shawna looked at me and pointed to herself.
“Who, me?”

“Yes, you. Do you by any chance happen to
know what happened to that boy who was in our homeroom in the
beginning of the year?”

As soon as I finished asking her, I regretted
it.

“Which boy?”

“Michael. Michael Cooper.”

Shawna nodded, leaned toward me and
whispered. “I heard that Michael Cooper was very sick and almost
died.”

I was shocked and my face must have showed
it. I was speechless.

Shawna pushed her glasses further up her
pointy nose and continued. “Guess he ended up in the hospital and
had to stay in there for a long time.”

She sat back and shrugged. “That’s all I
know. Haven’t heard much about him since. To tell you the truth, I
don’t even know if he’s alive.”

Shawna looked out the window as if she had
just given me a brief weather report, while I sat there stunned, my
jaw practically hitting the icy ferryboat floor, and not
understanding why when I didn’t know enough about Michael Cooper to
even care.

• • •

As soon as I got home from school, I rushed
to my room and signed on to my computer to look up Michael on
MyWeb. Maybe there was an update about his whereabouts or an
explanation of why he wasn’t in school. I couldn’t believe what
Shawna told me or, more importantly, how she told me. She seemed so
nonchalant about his well-being, didn’t even know whether or not he
was alive. So much for nice and nerdy.

I typed in his name, but because I wasn’t
friends with him, the information I got was very limited. It only
listed his hometown, school, age and other irrelevant facts. It
also showed a quote under his picture, which indicated it was
written by M.E.C. I assumed it was by him. The quote puzzled me. It
read: “Live for today, for tomorrow may never come.”

Despite the fact that I had deleted Michael’s
request to be friends with me a month earlier, I decided to request
him as a friend this time. I steadied my cursor over the friend
button, but hesitated. Do it, I thought to myself. Why not? He
already tried to friend me first and I had absolutely nothing to
lose. I pinched my eyes shut and quickly clicked on the button.

I did it, but figured, what was the point
now? The kid could be holed up in some hospital bed for all I knew
and not have access to a computer. Or, better yet, what if he were
too sick to even use a computer? What was I thinking trying to
friend a guy who, up until Shawna told me he might be dead, I
didn’t even give a damn about?

I closed the top of my computer and climbed
off my bed. I stood in front of my floor length mirror and looked
at myself. What did Michael see in me? Why did he send me that
note? Did he do it to all the girls and what did his poem even
mean? It had said something about me facing my fears.

I studied my reflection and wasn’t too
disappointed. I inherited my mom’s turned up, lightly freckled
Irish nose as well as her olive complexion. My dad always said I
had his mother’s big, expressive eyes, colored dark blue like his.
I already had dark, thick eyelashes and only put on eyeliner and
mascara for special occasions.

My naturally highlighted, chestnut hair had a
subtle wave to it if I let it air dry, but I preferred it to be
straight and would use my flat iron whenever possible. If I were
running late, I’d keep my curls and just throw my hair up on top of
my head in a messy bun.

I was only 5’4” and had to be careful of what
I ate. I had a pretty fast metabolism, but was afraid it would slow
down at any minute and I’d become overweight. I don’t know why I
believed this since no one in my family had a weight problem. I
think I saw it once on some talk show or infomercial and didn’t
want to take the chance. Either way I thought it best to eat
healthy, yet not deny myself junk food once in a while. I was a
teenager, after all.

I wasn’t stick thin like some of the girls in
my grade or perfectly curvy in all the right places like Tessa
Anderson. I had average-sized breasts, a smaller waist, regular
hips and an ample behind. I turned to review my rear. I was
definitely built like a young woman and relatively attractive
compared to a lot of other girls in my school. Wholesome. That’s
what my grandmother always said about me. I looked wholesome. It
didn’t sound cool to be considered wholesome. It sounded more like
a curse.

Just then my computer dinged, alerting me
that I had a new e-mail message. I hopped on my bed, twirled my
laptop around and searched. I had over twenty unread e-mail
messages from before and figured that I must have gotten a new one.
From what I could tell, all of them were spam. I was ready to
delete all the junk mail when one at the very bottom caught my eye.
The subject line read:
“Thought you’d never
ask,”
and was attached to a friendship acceptance from one
Michael E. Cooper.

CHAPTER
FIVE

The autumn colors that became the landscape
of the island were warm and soothing, but the loneliness I
sometimes felt from living there still resided deep within me.
Golden yellows, burnt reds and bright oranges were just a few of
the hues that adorned the giant oaks and maples. As I walked back
home from the dock, the towering trees bent with the chilly
November winds as their colorful leaves fell effortlessly to the
ground and danced all around me.

Most days I had to walk the half a mile home
after the ferryboat dropped me and the other kids off at the pier.
Some days, though, when my mom didn’t have to work at my brother’s
school, she’d wait in her car and give me a ride home.

It seemed as though my family was getting
into a routine and settling into our new home, into our new lives.
My brother James said he was happy at his new school and quickly
made a handful of energetic buddies just like him. Luckily, most of
these boys lived in nearby neighborhoods, so he could ring their
doorbells after school, run outside and play until dusk.

My mother seemed more content with her new
job and once in a while, I’d catch glimpses of my old mom, the one
I missed, the one I remembered from before my father’s death. Her
only wish was that she could start working full-time so she’d be
able to save some money for the three of us.

It seemed as if all I did was go to school,
come home, study, eat dinner, study some more, go to bed and repeat
the same routine the next day. As settled as I may have begun to
feel, it wasn’t turning out to be a whole lot of fun.

Whenever I had free time I would try to
reconnect with Becca, Sarah and Gabby via the Internet or chat on
the phone with one or, if possible, all of them. Lately, though, I
felt as if my best friends were distancing themselves from me. They
all promised they would come for a visit and stay with me over a
long weekend, but it had been almost two months and not one of them
had made any attempt. The “Fab Four” seemed to be fizzling
fast.

I wasn’t sure if it was purposeful or simply
because they were continuing with their lives and other friendships
so many miles away. I, too, really had no choice but to carry on
with mine, even if I had to do it alone in the middle of the
Atlantic.

A few times, during school, I hung out with
two girls who were in both my study hall and my lunch wave. Erica
and Taylor were best friends and had grown up together on Pike’s
Island. Erica was Italian and had a head full of tight, black curls
and a pretty, dark complexion. Taylor had shocking red hair and
white, almost translucent skin. Erica was short, while Taylor was
tall. Even though they looked like complete opposites, Erica and
Taylor were as close as two friends could be.

Every now and then, the two of them would
fill me in on little tidbits of gossip that occurred in school or
back home on the island. I tried to act like I wasn’t interested,
but my ears perked up whenever I found myself around the two of
them.

“Did you hear about Tessa Anderson and Connor
Finch?” Erica asked one day in the cafeteria, as she slid her lunch
tray toward Taylor and me.

Taylor looked around nervously. “Shhh,” she
said. “You’re so loud.”

Erica plopped down across from us, leaned
forward and whispered. “Sorry.”

Dying from curiosity, Taylor flung her upper
body on top of the lunch table. “So … what happened?”

Erica spoke so softly that I had no choice
but to lean in, too. “I guess they got caught having sexual
relations in the back of Connor’s car during lunch yesterday.”

I slowly nodded. “Really?”

Taylor added, “Very interesting.”

Erica sat back and smiled like the Cheshire
cat. “Guess he didn’t like the food choices in the cafeteria and
wanted to eat his own special version of take-out instead.”

A visual of Connor and Tessa in the back seat
of his Beemer popped into my head and I cringed. “Ewwww.”

“I second that,” Taylor said as she took a
big bite of her pizza. “Although, he really is hot.”

Erica scanned the room. “I guess Michael
Cooper is back to school again, for how long? Who knows?”

I shot up. “He is? Where?”

Erica looked at me suspiciously. “Why do you
care?”

“Just wondered,” I said, trying to sound
casual as I sipped my iced tea.

“You got the hots for him or something,
Willow?” Taylor teased.

“Not at all,” I lied.

I suddenly felt nervous and could tell my
face was turning red. Abruptly, I stood and grabbed my empty lunch
tray. “Gotta go! Gonna head to the library and finish up my history
paper.”

Without any further explanation, I quickly
turned and fled and could distinctly feel both of them staring
after me as I did.

• • •

I walked through the halls toward the library
in a state of confusion. Why did Erica say Michael was back in
school? I knew for certain that he wasn’t in homeroom this morning
and why wouldn’t he have told me on MyWeb that he was coming
back?

Once he graciously accepted me as he friend
back in October, we communicated regularly a couple of times a
week. He told me he was too sick to come to school, but wouldn’t
say why. I tried not to make a big deal about it since he
didn’t.

His MyWeb page gave no hint as to his type of
illness. I was tempted many times to ask either Taylor or Erica,
but I didn’t want to bring up his name out of the blue. And now,
when I had just had the perfect opportunity to ask, after Erica’s
comment about his being back in school, I acted all giddy, got
embarrassed and basically ran away.