Resilient (15 page)

“You’re a tease!” I yell, meeting up with her as she takes her first breath, and pushing her back down in the water again. She comes back up for air and splashes water on me. 

“It’s called flirting!” She starts to swim away but I catch her just in time, pulling her closer. She puts her arms around my neck and touches her forehead to mine, my heart pounding faster by the second. When she touches me, it sets off something inside, an explosion of feelings, mine mixed with hers. I tangle my hand in her hair, bringing her lips to mine. 

I can’t seem to let go of her, and she, too, kisses me with a thirst, as if there’s nothing else she desires more.

Livia is the one to let go first. “Let’s get out of the water,” she says, swimming back to the dock. 

“So you are not going to do that thing you do when you are in the water?” I ask. She narrows her eyes at me. 

“You mean floating?”

“Yeah, what you were doing the first time I saw you here.”

“Were you watching me?” she asks, amused.

“I was here before you were. How could you float in that cold water for so long?” Again, I’m hoping in vain. 

She avoids my gaze, turning around and pulling herself up to the dock. “The same way you can. My body gets use to it after a while. Isn’t that how it works?”

I swim my way back and climb up to sit next to her on the hot wooden planks. “Yeah, it doesn’t feel that cold after a while,” I lie.

“Were you just watching me?” she laughs. “That’s creepy!”

  “I couldn’t take my eyes off you, like I can’t keep my hands off you.” I lean in for another kiss, and we lie on the wood next to each other. 

“Let me see your phone,” she says.

“What for? It doesn’t have service here.”

“I just want to see it.” She’s grinning.

“It’s in the right pocket of my shorts, next to you.” 

She takes the phone and types something on it. “What are you doing?” 

She moves closer to me, leaning her head toward mine. “On the count of three, smile.” She counts to two and takes a picture. “From now on, when I call you, that’s what you’ll see.” She shows me the picture she just took. 

“Oh, come on! My eyes aren’t even open.” 

“Want to try another one? Maybe you can keep your eyes open this time.” 

“Fine, but I’ll take it.” I take the phone, and, while I’m stealing a kiss, I snap the shot.

“Let me see it!” She reaches over, taking the phone back.

“Yeah, yeah. I think we need one that is not so compromising.” 

She kisses my cheek and takes another shot. 

“Okay! Enough of this paparazzi stuff,” I say, stealing the phone. “Where is your phone? If I am carrying your picture around, you have to carry mine.” 

“No problem.” She gets up and walks down to where her clothes are. I follow her with my eyes, and I can’t stop staring, even as she pulls her shirt back on to cover her body. 

We take some more pictures of us and I add one to her phone. “Hey, we both have FaceTime on our phones,” she says. “We can see each other while we talk.” She’s all excited now, like a little kid with a new toy.

“Sure, especially when you’re taking a shower,” I wink at her. 

She gives me a gentle push. “You wish!” She shakes her head in disapproval, but she can’t resist when I close the distance between us. She wraps her hand around the back of my neck and kisses me.

A moment before she pulls away again, I feel her thoughts beginning to leave me, this moment, and growing anxious. “I have to go back. My parents are probably wondering where I am, and I still have to get ready for school tomorrow.” 

I look at my phone, and it’s almost dinnertime. “Time flies when you’re having fun. I’ll see you tomorrow at school?”

“Yeah!” she says, hopping down from the dock. I pull her back by the hand. 

“Not so fast.” I kiss her softly but intensely—give her something to think about.

After she is out of sight, I turn to head toward my own house. Suddenly, now that I am alone, I have the feeling that I’m being watched. I spin around, thinking that Livia must have come back, but no, I don’t see her or anyone else. I slowly walk back home, turning around every couple minutes, half-expecting to find someone right behind me.

*                            *                              *

Amanda, my little sister, is sitting on the couch watching TV when I get home. I jump on the couch next to her and give her a big hug. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” I say, messing up her hair. 

“What’s wrong with you?” She scowls and combs her hair back in place. 

“What? Can’t I say I love my little sister?” 

She just stares at me until I give up and walk away. 

“I hope it’s not contagious!” she calls out, and I can tell she is laughing through her words. 

Alone in my bedroom, I download to my computer the pictures Livia and I took at the lake. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as she. When she smiles, her whole face lights up. Her eyes are so clear, it’s almost like I can see her soul. Her pitch-black hair contrasts with her fair skin making her look like Snow White. She has a body that any guy would love to put their hands on—just the thought of it makes me crazy. I don’t want anyone’s hands on her but mine. 

I shake my head, trying to dismiss my possessive thoughts. What am I getting myself into? Could this be what being in love feels like? Am I falling for her? It scares me to think about it. I’ve never been in love, and honestly, right now, I’m afraid of it. Love means commitment, no lies, and no secrets. Could I do that?

The smell of food lingers in the air; Mom must be cooking breakfast. I wear jeans despite the warm weather so no one can question my lack of bruises. I add a white off-the-shoulder shirt and my black and white Vans. I leave my hair wavy and pin my bangs back. When I look in the mirror, I notice my eyes are a brighter blue today—probably thanks to yesterday. I can’t stop thinking about Adam at the lake, and when I think of him, everything else loses its importance for a moment. 

Downstairs, Mom is sitting at the table with the boys.

“Ready or your first day at your new school?” Gabe asks.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

“Is everything okay?” Mom’s eyes narrow.

“I’m just not that excited about going to school, but I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Her eyes soften in understanding. “Don’t be nervous, Livia. You’ll be fine. Now sit down and eat some breakfast before you leave.” 

*                            *                              *

I get to school and the parking lot is packed. I park all the way in the back, near the tennis court. A lot of people are just hanging out by the campus entrance. I wonder how Adam is going to react when we meet. Will he kiss me in front of everyone? 

I take a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. It’s not fun to be the new kid in school. I can start fresh—I can be whatever I want, but what do I want to be? “Be as you wish to seem”, Socrates would say. I want to seem normal, not a freak.

Someone knocks on the passenger window. I look up and Brianna is standing there. When I get out of the car, she skips over to my side.

“Hey! I’m glad I found you before you got in. Are you nervous?”

“Nervous? No, not at all!” I smile and head across the parking lot with her. 

“I talked to Adam last night. I’m glad you weren’t as hurt as the doctors thought.” 

“Yeah, it seems that way.” I wonder what else Adam told her.

“Well, now that you’re better, you have to try out for the cheer squad!”

“Cheer squad?” I laugh. “No way, Brianna, I’m not cut out for that.” She laughs with me as we walk into the school.

“What do you have for your first period?” she asks.

I get my schedule out of my backpack; before I can open it, she takes it from my hand. “Let me see if we have any classes together—hey!” She points at the list of class times. “We have two classes together today, Algebra in second period and PE last period. Mrs. Perez teaches Algebra and she is nice most of the time. Your first period is Literature—it’s a new teacher, so I can’t help you there.” Brianna shrugs and finally surrenders my schedule back to me. 

We walk down on the hall together, trying to find free lockers. She stops when she finds two next to each other. I take my binder out and put the rest of my stuff in the locker. I look over at Brianna, and she is already busy taping pictures and a mirror to the inside of her door. 

After getting directions from her, I venture off toward my Literature class. The school is a two-story building, and the walls are blue and white with matching blue lockers—home of the falcon. A long banner overhead reads, “We bleed blue.”

Auburn and yellow were the colors of Loyola, my private Catholic school in New York. My friend John played basketball and Alyssa and I used to watch every single one of his games. I wish they were here with me—those old friendships would make this day so much less nerve-wracking.

No one seems to be staring at the new girl, but I haven’t been paying much attention either. The less I concentrate on the people around me, the better I can block their emotions. Water is a constant image in my mind.  Everyone seems happy to be back at school—I’m sure it’ll all die off soon. As I enter the classroom, something calls my attention right away. Generally speaking, nothing is wrong, but I can feel someone shielding their emotions. 

It’s a flat space in the crowd—someone’s emotions are artificially steady and have no depth. I can usually find loopholes in the veneer when my uncle puts up his front, but not right now. Whoever is shielding their emotions knows exactly what they are doing. 

I find a seat in the back of the classroom. I put my notebook on the desk and I look around, trying to find the person who has the shield up. I’ve never felt such a good defense before. That this person feels the need to cover their emotions is intriguing—it could mean they are aware of people like me. It could mean a lot of things.

The second bell rings and everyone goes silent. The teacher stands up from her desk to greet the class. As she looks out over the room, her eyes drill straight into me and chills run up my spine. I have no idea what cold feels like, but I imagine it feels something like her gaze, sharp as a razor. Just looking at the woman gives me the creeps.

The door bangs open, making her turn to look at who is coming in. My heart skips a beat as I see Adam in the doorway. He clears his throat and looks at the teacher.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to do that, and sorry for being late.” 

The teacher raises her chin. “Don’t let it happen again Mister…?”

“Cooper. Adam Cooper, ma’am.”

“Find a seat, Adam. Class is starting now.”

Adam takes one look around and heads to the back of the room. He looks at me but he doesn’t say anything. He walks right past, sitting on the vacant desk to my left. I take a deep breath, doing my best to pay attention to the teacher and not to him. 

“Please call me Ms. Johnson,” she says. “I’m your new Literature teacher. Open your books to page nineteen, read the text, and write a summary on it. Bring it to me when you’re done.” 

She looks way too young to be a teacher. If I had seen her someplace else I would have thought she was twenty at most. She looks pretty and I don’t think I’m the only one to notice—most of the boys seem mesmerized by her. She has straight brown hair that comes to the middle of her back, and she is wearing a sleeveless shirt that exposes her tanned skin and well-toned arms. She must hit the gym every day to have arms like that. But there is something about her that makes me shift in my seat—something about her that feels older and more calculating. 

I force myself to read the text and, when I’m done with the summary, I bring it to her. As I’m walking towards the front of the room, she fixes her eyes on me and smiles a happy smile, but her eyes don’t say the same. The closer I get, the more uneasy I feel, and by the time I reach her, I have goosebumps all over my body.

“I’m finished. Is there anything else you would like me to do?” I ask while searching out the emotional filter in the room, trying to see if it is hers.

“And you are?” she inquires.

“Livia Berwick.”

“Well, Livia, you can start studying Chapter Two. I’ll be giving a quiz on it next Friday.” 

I nod and I hand my paper over to her. As she reaches for it, her skin brushes mine, and at that moment I know for sure—it’s her. I immediately pull my hand back and she stares at me, her gaze dark and icy. 

I walk back to my seat, fighting the urge to run out of the classroom. What I just felt was sinister, something I can’t comprehend. I sit down and I see a folded white paper lying on my desk. My heart melts as I read it: “Good morning! I hope you have a good first day!” 

When I look over to Adam, he is smiling at me, but I see something else behind his smile—there’s a trace of worry in his eyes.

“Thank you,” I mouth. 

“Adam and Livia!” Ms. Johnson shouts. “There’s absolutely no talking allowed in my class!”

What the heck? She must be paying close attention to be able to see us barely move our lips. Because there’s no way she heard me from where she sits. From the corner of my eye I see Adam staring at her with his lips parted, he shakes his head and goes back to reading his assignment. I cradle my head on my arms, resting on the table. I feel the need to shelter my mind from so many mixed emotions flying around the room. I would do anything not to be trapped in a cramped, crowded prison like this. If I could just let myself relax, the hum of the emotions would fade a little, like some loud techno song pounding in the background—meaningless, but unavoidable. 

I look up as I sense Adam getting out of his chair. I watch as he walks past me to the front of the classroom. He puts his paper on Ms. Johnson’s table and the bell rings. He says something to her but I can’t hear—everyone is on their feet and talking over the commotion. I get up to leave, and Adam is already out of the room.

I stop by my locker to get my book for the next class, and when I shut it, Adam is standing next to me. 

“Hey,” I say.