Ripple Effect: A Novel (13 page)

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Authors: Adalynn Rafe

BOOK: Ripple Effect: A Novel
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Chapter 19

 

Fluorescent lighting, as phenomenal as it was, appeared every few feet on the ceiling above the linoleum hallways of the old high school.

Hazel, her arms filled with books, slowly made her way down the hallway as she teetered side to side to keep the books from falling. She wore simple denim and a white print tee with a black rose. Golden hair trailed down her back, just the slightest bit frizzy and kinked.

She was well, glowing, and very much alive. Only in the past was she okay.

Pausing, her face tensed and she looked up before releasing a loud sneeze. Books flew everywhere as her arms jerked. Golden hair crowded her face and she shook her head in shock. Her arms were now empty and the psychology books, lots and lots of them, filled the ground around her.

Stepping back a few feet, I poked my head around Hazel and saw the library in the distance, the glass doors of the entrance across from a wall of lockers. I sighed. Not surprising that Hazel would be found there.

After mumbling a few choice words under her breath, she squatted down and started stacking the books again.

“Are you okay?”

Hazel looked straight into the greasy face of Darien. “Could I be any blonder?” A small smile cracked on her pink lips.

With a swift movement of his hand, Darien swept the golden hair from her face, revealing her green eyes. “I don’t think you’d be Hazel without your blond hair.” His brown eyes, just darker than honey, softened as he watched her, and his hair was not as greasy as usual. Even his t-shirt was different, this one just plain-old blue.

What? Shaking my head, I put my hands over my face and sighed loudly. Darien, the geek, was hitting on Hazel?

Hazel glanced at Darien and he had looked down momentarily to find her exposed cleavage. “I’m sorry, Hazel,” he said quickly and looked away.

She blushed. “I have to go to class.” She pulled her shirt up another two inches. “And, thank you for being so kind to me.”

Darien took the books from her and stood up. “I believe we have the same class,” he mentioned with a sly grin.

She knew that—and didn’t want to admit it. People would judge her.

Hazel smiled back flirtatiously. I rolled my eyes. She didn’t care who saw her with Darien, not anymore. “This is an awful lot of books, Darien, can you handle it?”

“I got it,” he said with a grin. “You know I’m at your beck and call, Queen Hazel.”

I could throw up at any moment! Were they courting each other?  Impossible! It was impossible! Darien and Hazel . . . their innocence made me gag.

“You’re a noble knight.” Instinctively, her hand reached up to her golden hair and she twirled it around her finger as her head tilted to the side. A sparkle in those green eyes of hers showed up, one that I’d never seen before.

Was all that gooey crap supposed to mean that Hazel really liked him? My world was even more changed if it were so.

Darien held Hazel’s arm softly as his face became serious. “Have you told––?”

“No,” Hazel said quickly, her smile disappearing. “Cecily doesn’t know.”

“The Cecily that I knew,” Darien said as he shook his head with disappointment, “would never ever act like this.”

Worried, Hazel’s eyes widened. “Like what?”

“Like Sabrina,” he whispered.

“She’s my best friend, Darien!” Her eyes became teary and she stepped away from him.

Darien reached for Hazel. “I know that.” He cleared his throat. “She’s not stable though, you can’t deny it . . .”

Hazel’s face paled as she looked up at the corkboard ceiling. “I—I know.”

“I care for you, Hazel,” Darien admitted boldly, “more than I should. You know that. I will never change the way I feel about you. I know we aren’t in the same bracket of the food chain, but I don’t care.”

Hazel stared at him in thought as he touched her face ever so softly. Bringing her hand to his, she finally gave him a smile, though she seemed scared. Darien inched closer to her and brought his face to hers, ready to place his lips on her soft, pink pout.

Judging by the look on Hazel’s face, and her red and flustered skin, this was going to be her first kiss.

Cecily came storming down the hall, her face flushed from emotion, and her eyes narrowed in worry. “Hazel, we’re getting out of here!”

I gasped and the two love birds separated like oil and water.

With a beast of an attitude, Cecily stood tall and held her hands on her hips. She stared at Hazel with curiosity and horror mixed together. “What the––?”

“You said you were ditching class today,” Hazel mentioned timidly.

Laughing in mockery, Cecily opened and closed her hand to mimic Hazel. “
Meh-meh-meh . . .
NO!” Her eyes rolled. “Do you ever listen to me?” She adjusted the long sleeves of her sheer black top so that she could slip her thumbs through the fabric. Her hair was in a lazy ponytail and she wore little makeup. Believe it or not, her skirt was replaced with jeans. I had a suspicion it was because of Leison’s assault on her. She seemed to be avoiding anything that would bring
his
attention to her.

Hazel shot her a blank look and folded her arms.

“I had to come to class and turn in that stupid drawing, or Iles will hash my grade,” Cecily explained, as if as bothersome to her as taking daggers from her eyes. “What are
you
doing here?” She glared coldly at Darien.

Darien wasn’t scared of the monster that Cecily had become, and stood tall before her. “I was helping Hazel carry her books to class. We are sort of in the middle of AP Psych,” he informed her.

She smirked at Hazel, and then looked back at Darien. “Shut up.”

“Do you ever think about her grades?” Darien asked snidely. “Or are you too busy thinking about yourself?”

That struck a nerve with Cecily and it was abundantly clear by the look on her face. After cursing him out, mainly pointing out that he’s a creep and what not, she flipped him the bird and stormed off.

“Hazel, hurry up!” she screamed as she headed down the hall. “Freaking sore throat,” she mumbled to herself, touching her neck—the place with a bite mark— softly. “I’m only dying here. Take your time!”

What a sarcastic brat! I didn’t know her and I couldn’t recognize the monstrosity, so it must’ve been a demon imposter in my body. A shiver coursed through me, a terrible one too.

“The party tomorrow,” Hazel spit out quietly. “I told her I’d go with her. It’s at the mansion.”

Darien looked confused. “I’ll be killed if I showed up.” A plea filled Hazel’s eyes and she pouted. “Just go. I’ll tell the teach you had a family emergency, so you had to leave class, and I’ll see you later,” Darien said, trying be brave, but clearly scared.

She kissed him softly on the cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Mother of Bieber, get your hind quarters down here!” Cecily yelled. “In fact, I feel sorry for his mother . . .”

“Coming!” Hazel ran toward her demented friend.

 

*              *              *

 

“Are you going to school tomorrow?” Hazel wondered.

She sat on the couch by the fire in her dim living room. The couches curved slightly, one on each side of a small coffee table, and they held a print with beige lace flowers over red and white fabric.

Cecily lay lazily on the other couch, drink in hand, propped up on silky pillows. “Nope.” She glanced down at the coffee cup and twirled it.

The room was ornate and very fancy, with china closets with priceless crystal animal scalpers, white paneled walls, crown molding, and expensive flower arrangements. Of course, the girls felt even fancier when their drinks contained spirits. I could smell it, the alcohol. Or was that just Cecily’s breath?

Hazel took a swig of her drink. She wore a pair of black shorts and a pink tank top with her golden hair twirled up into a high bun on her head.

“My mom called me and I never called back.” Cecily shrugged it off.

Hazel was hesitant, but asked the question she had in her mind regardless. “It’s like something snapped and you all the sudden decided that you hated school and life. What’s wrong?”

At that moment, Cecily decided to chug the rest of her drink down. When she was through, she got to feet and held her cup out. “I need another!” The slinky red dress she wore hugged her curves a little more than she thought and had a slit going up the thigh, which showed a spot of bruised flesh from her incident with Leison. It was Hazel’s mothers.

She ran into the kitchen, with overly large cherry wood cabinets and gray granite countertops, and went straight for the liquor cabinet. “Bailey’s and hot chocolate. Who would have thought you’d be so delicious,” she said to the bottle, holding it in her arms as if it were a baby.

Hazel leaned onto the countertop and poked with a wicker basket that held fruit. “You know, I really miss how Daphne used to call me Queen Hazel.” She laughed at the memory. “We had so much fun.”

Cecily took a deep breath, clearly upset. Her robe fell from her shoulder and she quickly caught it. She seemed well aware of the bruises that Leison had left and the questions that Hazel would ask if she saw them.

“And Jema and Adie were so alike in ways, just happy with where they were. Daphne is definitely a diva, like me.”

“What are you getting at?” Cecily stared coldly at her best friend. “Because you know how annoyed I get when people play guilt trips on me.”

Hazel stood up now. “It’s your own conscience.”

Cecily glared at Hazel. “What does it matter?” she asked, becoming completely calm. “As of tomorrow night, it won’t even matter.”

As she tried to pass Hazel to return to the couch, Hazel grabbed her arm firmly. “What are you talking about? You do matter, Ces!”

“You don’t understand,” Cecily whispered. Hazel dropped her arm, confused. “You’re all I have,” she said. “Thank you, for your friendship.”

Dazed and tipsy, Cecily wobbled away from Hazel to sit on the couch. Once Hazel entered the room and saw the glow of the fire on Cecily’s blank face, she panicked.

“Why do you act like you’re dying or something?” Hazel asked. “You’re scaring me.”

“Facts of life, baby.” Cecily glanced at Hazel without expression. “Mom was always in charge of Adie, Papa was always in charge of me. Papa’s dead and there is no one to protect me now.” She stared back at the fire. “I would rather die,” she whispered darkly.

“What?” Hazel became even more confused. “Protect you from what?”

She sat forward and rested her arms on her knees. “Monsters,” she whispered.

Hazel looked down at Cecily’s exposed skin and saw the bruise that lingered there. “The monster that gave you that?” she asked, pointing a shaky finger at the mark.

It was clearly apparent that Hazel knew nothing about Mr. Leison assaulting Cecily.

Cecily’s eyes filled with tears and she took another drink. “I miss my sister, Hazel, I really do,” she confessed, staring toward the fire. “But I have to leave.”

Hazel shook her head with apprehension. “No, you don’t have to go anywhere!”

“I’m a burden here,” Cecily whispered. “Just a bag of rocks.”

Sitting beside Cecily, she touched her arm softly. “You’re not alone. I’ll protect you,” Hazel promised, just as a best friend would. “And you’re not a bag of rocks. Your mom loves you, even though
you
think she’s abandoned you and hates you.”

“What would you do if I died in your arms?”

Fear glazed Hazel’s eyes. “I would hold you close . . . ?”

“I would hold you in my arms. I would sing you a song,” Cecily promised.

Hazel nodded and patted Cecily’s leg, noticing another bruise on her thigh. “Are you sure about this party tomorrow night? Won’t the
monster
be there?”

Her eyes became dark. “He’ll never have me,” she whispered.

Hazel grasped Cecily’s arm. “Tell me what’s happened?”

“Life did.” Cecily smiled and her body swayed to the side a little. “Are you sure you’re not in love with someone?” She was so drunk.

“You know Darien,” Hazel started slowly.

“Swine! What, has he decided to court you?” Cecily laughed, almost mocked.

Biting her lip, Hazel turned her face toward the fire to hide the tears that were rising in her eyes. “I guess you’re right,” she whispered, clearly heartbroken.

It seemed that they both had huge secrets that they were hiding from each other.

Chapter 20

 

Standing in my house had never felt so awkward. Telling time had never seemed so impossible. Was I in the past or the present of Cecily’s life––or worse, the future again?

Laughter echoed from the living room, a sound that was as rich as a red velvet cupcake. If I was correct, I could even hear my mother laughing. Naturally, I migrated toward the room to spot my mother, Adie, Daphne, and Jema sitting on the couches and floor, laughing at an old black and white movie. Pillows and blankets were strewn everywhere.

Adie looked deathly sick. When I said deathly, I meant deathly. In a short amount of time she would be joining me. That fact alone made me want to run and scream and hide. My big sister was not supposed to die––that was the goal of my entire existence! This ripple was not a fair one and Adie didn’t deserve the brunt of my actions!

Regardless, they sat around talking, drinking root beer, and eating popcorn. At least they could enjoy what little time Adie had left.

I looked out the kitchen windows behind the living room and saw snow falling from the sky, glistening like magic specks as it floated past the window. What I wouldn’t give for a cup of Papa’s hot chocolate.

I sat down by my sister and leaned my head on her bony shoulder. Wrapped around her was a blanket that I used to have on my bed. It was purple and green striped with big white flowers. Papa bought it for me one time after a surgery. Adie’s was pink and red.

“Usually we’d switch blankets the night before an operation. Cecily’s blanket was always softer than mine,” Adie remembered as she held the blanket close to her.

“Cecily always said the same about your blanket,” Mom reminded her.

Jema and Daphne laughed at something on the old cathode-ray television that jutted out three feet. A black and white vampire had made them giggly.

“I
vant
to suck your cornstarch and red-food-dye-number-forty blood,” Daphne said to Jema in a false accent. She exposed her teeth and reached for her neck.

Adie began laughing. “Sounds like Twizzlers licorice.”

“Maybe Red Vines . . . ,” said Jema.

“Cecily loved Red Vines, especially the grape flavored ones.” Adie smiled.

“If you were any monster, what would it be?” Mom asked.

“Myself,” I replied seriously. It was only the truth. Relentless and cold, I had pushed my mom and sister away from me after Papa died, until one day we hardly even talked to each other. I guess it was like this: She had Mom at her beck and call; I had Papa, to pick me up when I scraped my knee. So, after Papa died, I guess I became jealous of Adie for having my mother’s affection.

Jema started laughing, but obviously not at me. “The Loch Ness Monster.” Her smile was beautiful and her blue eyes twinkled when she laughed.


Mmmrr
. . . Bigfoot,” Daphne said. “I haven’t shaved for a while.”

“Red headed big foot?” Jema wondered, thinking of the possibilities. “Must be Irish.”

Adie laughed. “Ugly!”

Daphne slapped her dangling foot. “Oh, shush! What about you, then?”

“Dracula. That way I could just suck some blood and live eternally,” Adie said, before laughing. “That would be sweet.”

People weren’t sure if they should laugh or console. They chose to laugh.

“More like metallic. Blood is nasty!” Jema winked.

“You wouldn’t last,” Daphne accused.

“Would too!” argued Adie.

Jema shook her head. “You hate blood and you hate Red Vines.”

“Very true,” Adie admitted. She held a happy smile. Her friends never took pity on her and she loved it that way. They treated her like a normal human being.

“What about you, Mom?” Jema asked.

My mom smiled. “I’d say . . . Frankenstein’s wife.”

Adie and I both laughed. “Are you saying that Papa is Frankenstein?” Adie wondered.

Mom grinned. It felt like the warmth of sunshine on the coldest of days. “Yes, in some ways. When I met your father he was so nervous and in love that he kind of just moaned when he spoke to me. If it were up to him, he would have bopped me over the head and dragged me off to a cave.”

The room roared with laughter. Jema laughed so hard that she was rolling on the floor which made Daphne laugh harder and snort, and then Adie laughed harder, but began to cough from being overly worked up. The room quieted down.

“Shoot,” Adie said, still laughing and coughing. “That’s funny.”

My mom kissed the side of her head tenderly.

“What would you do if it was your last day on earth?” Adie asked after a few moments.

Now some monster was attacking the village in the movie. Monster movies were routine for us, especially old black and white ones.

“I would . . . kiss Jessie Erkhart!” Jema said before swooning into Daphne.

“Get off, you love sick mongrel!” Daphne laughed, pushing her away.

“What about you, Daphne? Who would you kiss?” Jema asked, puckering her lips toward her.

Adie kicked Jema’s back lightly. “Not all of us are love sick mongrels!”

“Yeah, twenty and virgin lips!” Daphne teased Jema.

“Whatevs! Adie is virgin lips, too!” Jema defended.

“What would you do, Daphne?” my mother asked.

Daphne thought for a minute. “I would whoop it up like Cecily did! You gotta admit . . . the girl knew how to party.”

My mother laughed. “She was always the life of the party, wasn’t she?”

Adie smiled. “I miss that little bucket-of-drama.”

“What would you do, Adie?” Jema asked her.

“I would spend one last day with my baby sister. Tell her thank you for granting me my life, thank you for being my sister, and thank you for being my best friend.” Adie smiled softly. I expected her to cry—because I was!

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I stared at her fragile face. I was so wrong to turn my back on them, to treat them like they were nothing to me when they were everything! My hand reached over Adie’s shoulders for my mother, but of course she couldn’t feel me. If only I could see them once more, say I’m sorry and that I loved them.

My mother held Adie tightly in her arms and kissed the side of her head again. “I would kiss Papa one last time, take the family to Germany, and even pet that mangy mongrel. But I tell you girls, I have no regrets. Things happen for reasons.”

Adie yawned loudly. “I agree, Mom.”

“Time for bed, sweet Adie. You have to wake up early tomorrow for transplant surgery,” my mother reminded her.

Adie nodded once. After saying goodbye to her friends, just like on any other night, Adie headed upstairs. We sat next to each other on her bed.

Adie bowed her head in a prayer, something that I hadn’t really seen her do before. I guess everyone in the Wolf family had something to say to the Almighty Dude above.

After a few minutes she said, “Amen.” She rested in bed and stared up at the ceiling.

I settled next to her. Glow in the dark stickers of the stars and moon were perma-stuck on her ceiling from when she was a teenager. I always thought they were the bomb because she had arranged them to resemble constellations.

That’s where my stars came from in my world. That was my little slice of Adie’s room.

I closed my eyes and wrapped my arms around my big sister. It didn’t matter if I was dead or not, because right then, everything was okay.

“I’ll see you soon, Cecily,” Adie whispered.

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