“Thanks for waiting for us,” Emily yelled, which got a raised middle finger in response. “Sometimes I wonder why I bother.”
“You bother because she has meat cleavers at her disposal,” I joked.
Emily’s eyed widened as if it just dawned on her. “Oh my God. You’re right.”
Lucy stopped at the entrance, waiting for us to catch up with her. Even from this distance, the annoyance written on her face was visible. Obviously, patience wasn’t one of her virtues.
“We’d better hurry or else she might use one of them on us,” I said.
Emily and I quickened our pace while the sky behind us exploded into a mural of color as the sun dipped away. When we stepped inside, it was packed to the gills with teenagers, old people, and moms pushing strollers. So this was where everybody hung out. We convened around the fountain and tried to figure out our game plan. Since Emily was aware of my phobia with shopping, she suggested three retail shops, then a pretzel break.
Lucy shook her head in disagreement. “We should do pretzels first because then Sky can eat while she walks and pretend as if she isn’t bored.”
My mom and dad had divorced when I was only six months old but this was probably what their discussions would have sounded like if they shared custody.
“Hello, I’m right here.” I waved my hands in the air. When their eyeballs were on me, I cleared my throat. “Thank you. I won’t get bored shopping but I am hungry. And when I’m hungry, I get cranky.”
Lucy understood what I was implying. “Pretzels, then shopping it is.”
The three of us walked over to the food court, which also wasn’t accurately named. There was a pretzel bar, a farm to table soul food restaurant, a French bakery, and couple of other venues. Bistro tables, decorated with mason jars and white table clothes, surrounded a long communal table in the middle of the room. A double-paned skylight gave everybody a glimpse at the starry sky above. This town was constantly throwing me curve balls.
Emily was practically jumping out of her skin. “You can get so many crazy awesome flavors at The Pretzel Bar, like strawberry balsamic.” She clapped her hands together. “OR! Parmesan chocolate chip.”
I scrunched my nose in disgust. “Please tell me they have fake cheese. That’s all I want.”
Lucy chimed in. “They don’t, but trust me you will love it.”
Unease churned my stomach. Nothing beats fake cheese except fake cheese. It was a gross thing to love but damn it, that neon yellow goop tugged at my heartstrings. My feet reluctantly trailed after them. Ten minutes later I saw nirvana.
“Holy shit,” I moaned. “This sauce is the bomb with a capital B.”
When Lucy had first placed the pretzel in front of me, my mind was already made up. The pretzel would taste too gourmet but it was love at first bite. In the middle of stuffing my face, my senses started to tingle. I paused and glanced around the packed eating area. Nothing was out of the ordinary except a young girl wearing a Pokémon shirt. Hadn’t that fad been dead for years? Another sweep confirmed my paranoia. I dunked another piece of pretzel into the sauce and shrugged it off.
“Was I right or was I right?” Emily gloated. “Don’t answer that because I was totally right.”
Emily and Lucy were right about the cheese sauce; however, the other pretzel combinations were too weird for my taste.
“You were right…” Emily opened her mouth to speak but I cut her off with my look of disgust. “That though….” I pointed to her pretzel covered in chocolate and Parmesan. “That is wrong.”
She held eye contact with me as she took a huge bite. I gagged. “So wrong,” I repeated.
“Don’t knock it until you try it.” Emily chirped.
“I’m good.”
My head jerked over my shoulder as the feeling of being watched crept up my spine again. What the hell? I searched the perimeter but everybody was involved in his or her own lives. Nobody’s attention was focused on me. A persistent itch burned between my shoulder blades, telling a different story. I had to leave and now. My chair scraped against the floor as I stood abruptly.
“Can we go shopping?”
Emily and Lucy stared up at me, taken aback by my sudden mood swing. A two-second lull passed, then another. They continued to gape, as the itch grew stronger.
“Please?” I said desperately. “I saw a pair of pants in one of the window displays and I need them.”
Lucy’s eyebrows rose. “Now?”
I sounded like a junky itching for a fix. “Yes, now. They’re a spectacular pair of pants.”
“They’d better be,” Emily grumbled miserably.
They rose from their seats and dumped their half eaten pretzels in the trash. I felt bad but it was either that or stay, where danger potentially lurked.
“Lead the way,” Lucy said.
I headed straight down an escalator, took a right, and then a left until we arrived at a random store that had cute clothes on display. The itch disappeared. I let out a sigh of relief.
Lucy shot me a suspicious glance. “How did you see these pants? We didn’t pass by this store on the way in.”
“I saw them last week when my mom and I were here.” Man, the lies were getting easier to spout by the minute.
She seemed to buy it and walked into the clothing store without any further questions. I browsed the racks, looking for these so-called spectacular pair of pants. Unfortunately, white washed denim was back in with a vengeance.
Emily held a black maxi dress against her body. “What do you think about this?”
“It’s too plain for you.” An orange sweater caught my eye and I yanked it off the hanger. “But this would look nice against your skin color.”
She cooed in admiration. “Pretty. I’ll try it on.”
Handing the sweater over to Emily, she walked back to the dressing rooms. I proceeded with my mission but my heart wasn’t in it. My tiny closet at home was already stuffed to the brim with clothes I would never wear again. The Los Angeles climate was the polar opposite of Louisiana’s. I had found that out this summer when my shortest shorts weren’t a match against the heat. Lucy was at the counter flirting with a male sales clerk so I wandered over to where the shoes were. I picked up a pair of six-inch stilettos and grimaced. Anybody who could walk in those was a miracle worker.
“Can you say painful?”
I jumped, dropping the shoe on the ground. My heart pounded in my ears. A man dressed in an expensive suit came into view as he bent to pick up the stiletto.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
When he straightened, unease rippled through me. Although his voice dripped in honey, his dark eyes held the promise of nightmares. I widened our distance from each other.
“No problem,” I croaked out.
“My name is Parker.” A tinge of southern accent tainted his words.
I looked over my shoulder to get Lucy’s attention but she was too absorbed in her conversation with Mr. Sales Clerk. Guess I was on my own.
“Nice to meet you.”
A wolfish grin tugged at his lips. “And you.”
Parker held out his hand to give me back the shoe. As I went to retrieve it, our fingers brushed. Ice wove through my veins. Shivering, I wrapped my arms around my waist. His freakily cold body temperature confirmed my hunch. Parker was a zombie.
“What do you want?” I asked, getting to the point.
“You know what I want.”
I pushed away the fear and settled for anger instead. I was having a good time with my friends, eating pretzels, and enjoying life as a normal teenager when Parker had to come along. Besides, how could he drain my blood with thousands of people surrounding us? Frankly, it seemed like this whole intimidation tactic could have waited.
“Fuck off,” I snarled.
A glimmer of surprise registered on his face, which quickly morphed into pure delight. “You are a little spitfire, aren’t you?” Parker chuckled. “How thrilling.”
Dread turned in my stomach. This was obviously a game to him with a pint of my blood as the grand prize. I took another step backwards, bumping into a rack of clothes.
Faster than you could count to three, Parker closed the distance and bent his lips towards my ear. “You can’t run, Sky. Your knight in shining armor might have saved you last time but mark my words, we’ll get you and when we do, you’ll be begging for death.”
After Parker had reminded me of my fate, he vanished into the throngs of people. The moment was over as quickly as it had happened. Feigning an illness, I asked to be dropped off at home. Since I was pale as a ghost, Lucy and Emily had no qualms about doing so. A string of goodbyes later, I opened the front door and nearly wept at the smell of my mom’s perfume lingering in the entryway. She used to say that without me, she wouldn’t have found the life she was meant to live. Back in the olden days, my mom had been a wild child; rebelling against her strict southern mother drove her to party, drink, and dance on bar counters until 2:00 a.m. Until she met my dad, who was her stillness in the rockiest of seas. The details on why they got divorced were hazy but he had left my mom broke and with a 6 month old baby to take care of. After answering a random ad in the newspaper, she became a beauty mortician and as they say, the rest was history.
Frank head-butted my legs and I bent down. “Hey buddy, you will take good care of mama if anything happens to me, right?” He licked my cheek. Burying my face in his coat, tears flooded my eyes. “I knew I could count on you,” I whispered.
Frank patiently let me hold him until the sadness dissipated and a new resolve kicked in. My mom wouldn’t walk this earth without her daughter. That was a promise.
“Sky, what are you doing on the floor with Frank? You’re getting dog hair all over your clothes.”
I pushed myself to my feet and flung my arms around my mom’s neck. “I love you.”
She smoothed down my hair. “I love you too, sweetheart. Is everything ok?”
“Fine.”
She held me by the shoulders as she gently separated us. The worried look in her eyes broke my heart. “You’re sure you’re being safe?”
“Yes. Don’t fret. It’s not good for your wrinkles,” I said, repeating a line my grandmother was famous for.
My mom smiled, ridding the anxiety from her expression. “You are a pain in my butt, you know that?”
“I know but you can’t say my presence doesn’t add a little flare into your life.” I pecked her on the cheek and strolled into the kitchen.
Laura was standing over a huge pot on the stove. Wooden spoon in hand, she stirred and took a taste. The smell of garlic lingered in the air. I really hoped it wasn’t pasta. My mom had served spaghetti the past three nights in a row.
“What are you making?” I inquired.
Laura wiped her hands on an apron and turned around. “My ex-boyfriend’s mom’s recipe for cholent. It’s a Jewish beef stew, but without meat for your mom.”
This mysterious ex-boyfriend seemed different than others. Usually, Laura had no problem moving on. I used to think she was incapable of love, but looking at her now I recognized the signs of heartache. Her shoulders were hunched as if the weight of what she had lost was too much to bear.
“You guys seem serious. What happened?” I asked
Laura’s eyes flashed with remorse as she went back to stirring the stew. A heavy silence fell over us.
I was about to apologize when she spoke. “He wanted us to move in together.”