Becoming A Butterfly

by Mia Castile

  “Derrick Chandler asked Stacey Gibson out. Can you believe that? She only just broke up with Paul Markel two days ago,” Tasha said as I loaded my locker. I looked at her and pressed my lips together, wondering if I could tell her.

  “What?” the girl knew me like a book. I didn’t say anything; I just fought the smile that was creeping into the corners of my mouth. “Seriously spill,” she urged.

  “I don’t know what it means,” I leaned in conspiratorially, “but I gave Henry a ride this morning.” Her eyes lit up. “And he took my number.” She dropped her books and clasped her hand over her mouth. “So we have a study date tomorrow after school.” She jumped up and down with me holding my hands. Then I told her every detail of my morning.

  “We have to tell Jade,” she sighed as we walked to our classes.

  “Right!” It was shaping into the most perfect day ever.

  I was exhausted, after working for my parents, after doing the dinner dishes, after doing my homework. Exhausted—but when my laptop dinged a message from Henry at eleven thirty, I leapt out of bed and jumped into my chair.

  Henry Emmitt: Hey

  Farrah Leevar: Hey, Fakie what’s up?

  I smiled, still using his favorite move as his nickname.

  Henry Emmitt: Long day, you?

  Farrah Leevar: Same.

  We continued our usual small talk, but then it turned serious.

  Henry Emmitt: So really, when do I get to see you?

  Farrah Leevar: That party you invited me to.

  Henry Emmitt: You’re seriously coming this time?

  Farrah Leevar: Yes, I’m seriously coming this time.

  Henry Emmitt: I can’t see you sooner?

  Farrah Leevar: You want to video chat?

  I wasn’t sure if I could creep to the guest room without waking up my parents; I did not want to explain to them what I was doing video chatting with the boy next door in a wig. It wasn’t the best of situations to be found in.

  Henry Emmitt: I want to see you. For real.

  Farrah Leevar: I know. Me, too.

  Henry Emmitt: Then let’s do it.

  Huh?

  Farrah Leevar: When?

  Henry Emmitt: Now.

  Farrah Leevar: It’s eleven thirty and we’re two hours apart. School tomorrow, it’s not very practical. My heart raced.

  Henry Emmitt: You’re right. I know. This is just so frustrating.

  Farrah Leevar: I talked to Lacey tonight.

  It was dangerous where I was going, but I had to know what was going on between us, the real us.

  Henry Emmitt: Yeah?

  Farrah Leevar: She said you guys are going to study history tomorrow.

  Henry Emmitt: I need all the help I can get.

  Farrah Leevar: Are you guys friends? I didn’t realize you knew each other.

  Terrified, I was staring at the screen.

  Henry Emmitt: I think I’ve told you before she’s cool, and she is. She’s quiet, you know, so it’s hard to get to know her. We used to be friends like in pre-school, but we run in different circles now.

  Look at him using my words against me.

  Farrah Leevar: Oh, well, I guess your friend Byron doesn’t like her very much.

  Henry Emmitt: That’s cause Byron is a douche. I don’t even know why we’re still friends.

  That didn’t sound good.

  Farrah Leevar: What’s going on with you and Byron?

  Henry Emmitt: I don’t know. He’s OK sometimes, but lately, it’s all about appearances and stuff. I’m not sure if I care about that anymore.

  Farrah Leevar: Good for you.

  Henry Emmitt: Good for me? He’s the only friend I have.

  Farrah Leevar: No, he’s not. You have plenty of friends. You seem pretty popular.

  Henry Emmitt: No, he’s my only friend, the only one I’ve trusted with secrets or anything, well besides you. And we’re growing apart. He’s turning out not to be who I thought he was. The worst feeling in the world would be to think all this time that someone is one way and find out they’re another. When that happens, I’m done with that person.

  OUCH. Back pedal, back pedal, back pedal.

  Farrah Leevar: Henry, you should take some time and evaluate things before you make such a rash decision. There are two sides to every story and there is probably a reason for the way he’s acting. Don’t be so quick in your conclusion.

  Henry Emmitt: I have to go. I’m glad we got to chat. I’ll talk to you soon k.

  Farrah Leevar: Yeah, have a good night.

  Chapter 16

  I got a text that woke me up fifteen minutes before my alarm went off. I was annoyed until I saw who it was from.

  Last day I promise, can I bum a ride to school and home since we’re studying today?

  K

  Something was definitely happening. I wasn’t sure what; were we developing a friendship? Most great relationships begin with simple friendships. Look at my parents. They were friends for years before they ever hooked up. They had the strongest relationship that I knew of. Whatever this was, I was in too deep. I hated to sound like a soap opera, but I had to find a way to get rid of Farrah; she needed to disappear. I would lose Henry forever if he found out what I’d done. He met me out front as he had the day before. Small talk again filled the ride to school, but it wasn’t as nerve racking as the day before. I floated through my day. I hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Chase had made himself scarce, and I missed him. I still saw him in class, but he didn’t text me, or even acknowledge me. It was almost as if he had gotten what he wanted from me and now had no purpose for me. I had thought we were becoming friends, but it looked like I’d judged that book wrong—or right because that had been my original opinion of him. So what—I had something with Henry. I focused on that and tried to put the Chase situation out of my mind. When did my life become so much drama? Oh yeah, when we created Farrah. Stupid Farrah!

  “I don’t understand you,” Jade said. Tasha and I had finally told her what was going on with Henry.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, taking a bite of my sandwich.

  “He is obviously crazy about you as Farrah. Now what’s going on with you and him as you? It’s like you’re playing mind games with him.”

  I laughed. “I don’t even know how to play mind games.”

  “Who’s she playing mind games with?” Chase asked, as he sat his tray down beside me. Well, so much for my theory about him. This kid sure did keep me guessing.

  “Henry,” Jade said matter-of-factly. That was a major betrayal of trust. I narrowed my eyes at her. She just glared at me. Chase looked at me sideways, and then back at Jade.

  “She has no idea what she’s doing. Miss Innocent over here couldn’t play a mind game on a jellyfish.” Tasha giggled, and Jade smirked. I scowled.

  “You act like I’m some pumpkin bumpkin’,” I said angrily, and under my breath, “I hate you Chase Livingston.” He flashed a smile to Jade. I wondered what that was about. Were they into each other? Oh, who even cared what was going on between them? I hated him, and right now I wasn’t too crazy about Jade. They deserved each other.

  “Those are strong words,” Jade countered.

  “Truer words were never spoken,” Chase said, as he cut into his mystery meat.

  “Old Man,” I continued to scowl, but I had lost my venom.

  He threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me toward him. He leaned into my ear, and his breath tickled my skin as his lips grazed my ear. He gave me goose bumps from my ear to my toes as he said, “In order to hate, you must love first.” I shoved him away from me, and he laughed, looking at me sideways again as he took another bite of his lunch.

  When I packed up my locker at the end of the day, two shoulders slammed against the lockers beside mine simultaneously. On my left was Bea; on my right was Byron.

  “This is the last day you’re taking Henry anywhere,” he said. I let out a deep sigh.

  “It’s a free country; he can ri
de with whoever he wants.”

  “He’s not exhibiting the best judgment right now, obviously,” Bea said, as she looked at her nails.

  “What is your problem with me?” I asked sharply.

  “We know a poser when we see one, and you may think your little makeover here is making a difference, but it’s not. You’re still Lacey-bracey-four-eyed-facey, the nerd who can’t keep her feet under her or her skirt down, so back off,” she replied.

  “B’s out,” Bryce said, as they both leaned away from the lockers and he threw up a sideways peace sign.

  “What does that even mean?” I called after them, but they ignored me and strutted down the hall. Jade, Tasha, and Henry were waiting by my car when I finally made it there. I was a little rattled the more I thought about it, but obviously I couldn’t share with them. Jade was still mad at me for whatever reason, and though Tasha I felt would be sympathetic, I didn’t see a way to confide in her without Jade and Henry hearing, plus Henry—no way I could tell him anything. So, on the ride home I was quiet. The role of your chauffer will be played by Lacey Baxter. After we dropped off Tasha, Henry watched me for a long time.

  “You’re awfully quiet,” he finally said.

  “I can’t always be on,” I sighed, defeated.

  “What’s going on?” I pulled into the driveway.

  “Nothing, let’s go.” I got out of the car and went up to the front door. He followed me all the way to the kitchen.

  “Do you want a snack? My mom and dad went to the orchard last week; we have some really good apples.” They were in a display bowl in the middle of the counter.

  “Sure.” I got out the apple slicer and a cutting board. I grabbed three apples and rinsed them and got a bowl from the cabinet. I tried to push the slicer through the apple, but after three tries, it wouldn’t budge.

  “Move aside, weakling,” he laughed and scooted me out of the way. He pushed it through, coring it with one fluid motion. He took the six chunks and set them aside. He cored the other two apples, and I cut them in half to form more bite size chunks. I led the way to the couch, and we both took out flash cards. We laughed at our synchronicity. I quizzed him first.

  “When did the Revolutionary War begin?”

  He put his palms in his eyes as he tried to remember; then he said, “1765?” I frowned.

  “1775, that was the stamp act. When did it end?” I willed the answer to him. He looked into my eyes, trying to take it from me.

  “1789?”

  I frowned. “No, it was 1783.”

  “Maybe I should quiz you,” he said, unsure of himself. I took a bite of apple and shrugged. He looked at his cards and inhaled, smirking at me.

  “When was the Declaration of Independence signed?” He rolled his eyes. I assumed he knew this one, too.

  “July fourth, 1776.” I smiled. He picked another card.

  “Oh wow, name the thirteen original colonies.” I took a deep breath and cleared my head.

  “Connecticut, Delaware, Georgia, Massachusetts, Maryland, North Carolina, New Jersey, New York, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Rhode Island, South Carolina, and Virginia.” I looked at my fingers. I had been counting as I named; I was missing one. Pressing and rolling his lips in anticipation, Henry watched me. I could tell he was willing me the answer. It really was too bad that we didn’t have this telepathy thing mastered. “I know this; I know this,” I said, beginning to bounce in my seat. I whispered all of the colonies again; which one was I missing? “Give me a hint,” I said.

  “No way, you didn’t give me a hint.” He shook his head, his sandy brown hair cascading around his face. I just wanted to touch it. We both went for the apples, and our fingers grazed each other. My heart skipped. That did not help my concentration.

  “Come on,” I groaned, as I named the ones I had again. This time I only came up with eleven. “Seriously.” I reached for the card, but he jerked it above his head out of my reach. I named them again, still only coming up with eleven.

  “Do you want me to tell you?” He smirked.

  “No, because I know this; just give me a hint,” I pleaded. He looked up at the card, and I thought he was going to tell me, but he just smiled at me. He popped another piece of apple in his mouth, and I gave him my best angry face, which was pretty pathetic because let’s face it, I was head-over-heels for this kid. He lowered the card again and looked at me with his bright green eyes. I lunged for it, knocking over our books, the other cards, and the apples. He laughed and pulled it out of my reach again. How a person can lose her balance sitting I’ll never know, but if it can be done, I’d be the one to do it. When I lunged for him, I toppled and fell on him. He still laughed as I struggled to get up. I pushed off the couch, but my hand slid, and my face was suddenly inches from his. He stopped laughing and looked directly into my eyes. Instead of pushing me off him, he put his hand on the small of my back, holding me to him. I wondered if this was really happening. I was practically lying on Henry, and he was looking at me in a way he had never looked at me before.

  “It was New Hampshire.” He leaned into me. My heart began to crash against my chest. As it thundered in my ears, I closed my eyes, my breath shallow; I felt his fingers soft against my cheek. His sweet apple breath was warm against my lips. Then the doorbell rang. We both stiffened. I opened my eyes and his eyes, watching me, were steely. It rang again. I pushed away from him. “I’ll be right back,” I whispered breathily. Silently cursing whoever was at the front door, I looked back at him as he straightened himself. I made my way to the entryway, taking slow, deep breaths. I smoothed my shirt, jerked the door open, and there, leaning against the post was Chase. Of course, it was Chase. I crossed my arms and glared at him. His mellow demeanor instantly hardened.

  “Am I interrupting something?” he asked, as he removed his flash drive from his front jeans pocket.

  “No, yes, nevermind. What?” I said.

  “I just wanted you to add this song to the list before we upload it next week.” He handed me the flash. “Can I come in?”

  “Whatever,” I said, as I turned and went back to the kitchen. Henry was gathering his books and stuffing them into his bag.

  “I see,” Chase said under his breath as he took in the scene. I threw him a look that told him to keep his opinions to himself.

  “I’ve gotta go, Lacey. Thanks for all the help.” Henry avoided eye contact with both of us.

  “No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow,” I said, as I followed him toward the door.

  “Hey, how’s Farrah doing, Henry?” Chase called as he opened the refrigerator, asserting his comfort level in my house and some sort of male dominance. Henry flinched a little and turned to stare at him. Chase looked up, no overt expression on his face, even though I saw his eyes spark anger, but only for a second. What was his problem!

  “OK, I guess,” Henry said and turned to me. “See you.” I didn’t follow him; I only glared at Chase. He found what he was looking for in a coffee drink, and walked past me toward the stairs. I followed him up the stairs to my room. He lay across my bed, placing his drink on the night stand, as I went to my computer.

  “Do I need to mix this?” I asked curtly.

  “No, it’s acoustic.”

  I loaded it and added it to the playlist. “Laced with Lies” was the title. Without asking, I hit play. It was just guitar at first, soft and slow. Then I heard his voice.

  She thinks

  She’s invisible

  When she hides

  Behind her makeup.

  She doesn’t know

  That I see her

  When she disappears

  In the crowd.

  But that’s

  The way she likes it,