Dreaming of Antigone

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Dreaming of Antigone Page 8

by Robin Bridges


  I wait for him to get in on his side and take a deep breath. At least it’s warm in the truck. But there’s not a lot of air in here once he’s inside the space with me. And the truck smells like Alex. Like apple-scented shampoo and fresh-baked bread from the Indigo Dragon. “Okay,” I say, trying hard not to panic. “What do we do now?”

  His hands are on the steering wheel. “I have no clue.”

  His honesty makes me want to giggle. And then I embarrass myself by yawning.

  “Tired?”

  I could fall asleep right here, but I can’t let him know that. This is weird. The Alex air that I’m breathing in is just too much. It suffocates me. I need outside air. Normal air. I open the truck door.

  “What’s wrong?” Alex asks.

  “I’m getting claustrophobic,” I say. But as I look out across Rock ’n’ Roll Graveyard, I don’t want to go back there either.

  “I have an idea,” Alex says. “Slide out this way with me so nobody notices us.”

  He pulls a wool stadium blanket from the small space behind his seat and climbs out.

  I slide across the front seat toward his door, about to tell him he’s crazy if he thinks I’m snuggling under a blanket with him.

  But he spreads it out in the bed of the truck. “Get up here,” he whispers, even though the music from someone else’s car stereo drowns him out. Everyone out in the clearing is too busy having fun to notice us.

  He doesn’t hold his hand out to me again, and for half of a heartbeat, I’m disappointed. I put my hands on the tailgate as he jumps down, and suddenly his hands are on my waist, lifting me up.

  I feel dizzy for just a moment. And then he’s letting me go and climbing back up after me.

  He closes the tailgate and sits down on the blanket. “Now, look up. You can lie down flat here and see the stars.”

  I do as he tells me and take a deep breath. Alex is right. The clouds from earlier today are gone. The stars out here, even with the bonfire’s light, are breathtaking. He lies down beside me, with more than a foot’s space between us.

  “I strain my heart, I stretch my hands. And catch at hope,” he whispers.

  That dizzy feeling comes back. The stars are beginning to reel overhead. I close my eyes. His blanket smells like sunshine, like my sheets at home. His moms must use the same laundry detergent as mine does.

  “When did you find out?” I ask, not daring to open my eyes. I don’t want to see his face yet.

  “Yesterday. Before that, I was oblivious. What about you?”

  “Walt Whitman.”

  I don’t know what else to say. And he’s quiet for a long time too. Is he glad it’s me? Was he hoping it was someone else? Or did he just like the idea of writing to someone anonymously?

  “What constellation is that directly above us?” Alex asks finally.

  When I open my eyes again, I see Leo. The moon hasn’t risen yet, and I can see the swath of the Milky Way stretched across the sky. When I tell Alex the name of the constellation, he growls softly, more like a sick lawnmower than a lion. I smile in the darkness, but don’t laugh for fear he’ll think I want to be friends. Or something.

  I point out the brightest stars in the sky to him: Regulus, Arcturus, Castor and Pollux. We see Mars and Jupiter, and I think I see a falling star, but it flits across the sky and disappears before I know for sure if I really saw it or imagined it.

  I make a wish anyway. Just to be safe.

  We are both silent when we hear Trista and Hank approach the truck. “He’s not in the truck—was he with Caleb?” Hank is asking.

  I can see Alex’s face in the firelight. His cheek is smooth, stubble-free. He’s putting his finger on his lips. Fascinated by the shape of his mouth, I can do nothing but nod. I have no desire to join the others just yet either.

  “No, Caleb is over in the Dark Corner with Erin,” Trista’s saying. “Maybe he’s with Scott and Dylan.”

  I watch Alex’s face for any signs that the news about Erin bothers him. And why is Alex hiding out with me if Erin’s here tonight?

  “I’m sorry,” I mouth, and he looks at me, puzzled. I don’t know if he can’t read lips or if he doesn’t know why I’m sorry. “Erin,” I whisper.

  He rolls closer to me, so he can whisper “What about her?” in my ear. His breath is warm and tingly on my cheek. I feel more claustrophobic now than I did inside the truck.

  “PLUTO!!!!” Hank yells across the cemetery.

  “Come on,” Trista is saying. “Let’s go see if he’s out behind Dylan’s van. That’s where the real party is.”

  Alex’s stare is intense. I hold his gaze, and I’m ready to apologize for assuming he was here to get high with Dylan and the others. I realize how hard it is for him tonight. I’m glad he’s here, hiding out with me instead.

  When we hear Trista’s shriek and Hank’s laughter from the other side of the bonfire, we both take a deep breath. “Now, what about Erin?” Alex asks.

  “You two aren’t dating?” I feel stupid and hope he doesn’t think I am purposely paying attention to his love life. “Natalie and Trista thought so when we saw you together this morning.”

  Alex rolls his eyes. God, I hope he can’t see my blushing cheeks in the dim light. “I was giving her Caleb’s history notes. I’d borrowed them from Caleb the day before and she was going to see him before I did.” His face grows serious. “Why would you assume I’m hooking up with someone else?”

  And here is the discussion I’ve been dying to have, but I also don’t really want to know.

  “Iris never talked to me about you,” I say, playing with my bracelet nervously. “So I never really knew how serious you two were.” I’m admitting to Alex that my twin and I were not as close as twins are expected to be. She kept her secrets. I always wondered if it was because she thought I’d tattle to Mom. But I wouldn’t have. It hurts that she didn’t trust me, because I told her all of my secrets. She laughed at my angsty crushes and hugged me when I thought the world was conspiring against me.

  “Anyway, I didn’t mean to be nosy.” And I find myself unable to ask the question, Are you over Iris? Unwilling to hear his answer.

  Before he can say anything, I push up from the blanket in the truck bed and start to climb out. “I need to go,” I say. But he grabs my arm, and I topple over, on top of him.

  I panic. “Let go!” I whisper, struggling to get away from him.

  “Andria,” he whispers, as his hands settle on my hips. Part of me wants to quit fighting and lean in closer. The other part of me wants to run.

  I’m trapped, and I push up on my hands, trying desperately to stay above him.

  His grasp tightens as he squeezes my waist. Nerve endings all over my body explode like fireworks, and suddenly I feel out of control. It feels wild. Intoxicating.

  Oh God, what if I completely lose control? The fear of having a seizure right here and now is very real. My heart is pounding, both from teen monkey lust and sheer terror.

  He rolls, and suddenly I’m underneath him, his blue eyes staring at me with an intense, haunted gaze. He must see the fear in my eyes, because he begins to pull away. I put a hand up against his chest, then slowly, I move my fingertips to his mouth.

  Alex closes his eyes and rolls back off me and sits up. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I shouldn’t have . . .”

  I scramble away from him, suddenly chilled from his body’s absence. My heart is still pounding, so hard I’m afraid he can hear it.

  He’s still staring at me, sad and confused. “I didn’t mean . . .” He rubs his face with his hands. “Shit.”

  This is not my eloquent desk poet talking right now. This is not Alex Hammond, cool rock god of Athens High. This is a boy who needs a friend. “It’s okay,” I tell him, sitting back with my legs folded under me. “Blame it on the stars. Regulus is a bad influence.”

  He laughs, even though I know he’s not really sure what I’m talking about. I’m babbling. But the intense, haunted look on his
face is gone, and before he can say anything else, Hank spots us and yells across the parking lot. “Pluto! Where have you been?”

  Dammit.

  Alex frowns at me. “Busted.”

  This makes me smile. “Busted for being the only sober ones here?”

  “Something like that.”

  Hank is pulling a drunk Trista by the hand. She has a black jacket over that sleeveless top she insisted on wearing tonight. “Dude,” Hank slurs. His eyes are red. “What are you doing in the back of your truck?”

  “Stargazing.”

  Hank blinks at Alex, and thankfully doesn’t even notice me. He looks up at the sky and squints. “Cool.”

  Trista, however, does see me in the truck bed with Alex. And she is about to say something when Natalie skips over, with Thomas following her. “What are we doing?” she says. “Is it time to go home? I’m freezing!”

  Thomas rolls his eyes. “I thought y’all had a gig tonight in town.”

  Hank shakes his head. “That’s tomorrow.”

  Natalie blinks, her eyes glassy. “Oh no! What are we going to tell our parents when we want to go see you? My mom thinks we’re at the Indigo right now watching you guys play. She won’t believe me if I tell her I want to see you play again tomorrow.”

  “Why not?” Caleb says, joining us. “Calcifer’s groupies are very devoted.”

  Erin giggles as she stumbles up behind him and throws her arms around his waist. “Extremely devoted,” she slurs. “Obsessive, even.”

  Natalie is shivering still. Caleb disentangles himself from Erin in order to take off his jacket and give it to Nat. She blushes as she puts it on. “Thanks,” she whispers.

  “Anything for a fan,” he says, smiling to her.

  “Hey,” Erin pouts.

  “What I want to know is,” Trista says, “why in the hell are Andria and Alex hooking up in the back of his truck?”

  All six pairs of drunken eyes turn toward us.

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Alex mumbles.

  Natalie reaches for my hand and tries to pull me out of the truck. I climb out on my own, and Alex jumps down from the back.

  “Get away from him,” she says. “You need to come home with us so we can talk about him and all these other lovely boys.” She glances from Thomas to Caleb.

  Alex’s face is clouded with worry, but he makes no move to hold on to me. “Wait, no one is in any condition to drive right now except me.”

  “And Andria,” Trista says. “Oh no, that’s right. She can’t drive either.” She pouts and hangs on to Hank. They are barely able to hold each other upright.

  I’m trying to figure out if she’s being malicious or just stupid as Alex runs his fingers through his short hair in exasperation. “All right,” he says. “Trista, where is Selena?”

  Trista shrugs as she glances around the park. “Jack was supposed to meet her when he got off work. But I don’t see his car either.”

  “Perfect,” he says with a sigh. “All right. I can take two people in the front and smuggle the rest of you in the back. But God help us if we get stopped.”

  “Woot!” Hank jumps up into the bed of the truck, with Caleb, Erin, and Thomas trying to climb up after him. Thomas grabs the blanket and covers up the giggling pile of drunk teenagers.

  “I want to be inside where there’s heat,” Natalie says, opening the passenger door.

  Trista hops in right after her. “Me too. Fuck riding out there.”

  Alex grabs my arm, gently pulling me with him. “Get in on my side. We’ll make room.”

  I’m not thrilled at the thought of practically sitting in Alex’s lap, but it’s a much better option than riding in the back with the drunken horde and freezing to death.

  “Turn the heater on!” Trista and Natalie scream as I get in.

  Alex gets in right after me and starts up the engine. I scoot over as far as I can without sitting on top of Natalie, but my thigh is still pressed up against Alex’s. My skin is on fire long before the heater kicks in and thaws out my friends.

  Alex looks straight ahead and is silent as he drives back into town, stopping first at Caleb’s house. Hank pokes his head out from the blanket to yell a “Woot!” at Caleb before Thomas smacks him upside the head.

  Erin’s house is next, in the same neighborhood.

  Thomas and Hank get out together at Thomas’s house, which is the same fancy riverfront neighborhood where Natalie lives. Trista rolls down her window so Hank can lean in and kiss her good-night. “Call me,” he says.

  His beer breath has now infected the whole inside of the truck. Alex rolls down his own window.

  “Jesus!” Trista says, rolling hers up. “We’re going to die of pneumonia.”

  “Fresh air is good for you,” Alex says as he pulls out of Thomas’s driveway. He puts his arm across the top of the seat, and the hairs on the back of my neck come alive.

  I wonder what he would do if I laid my head against his arm. If anyone else would notice.

  When we pull up in front of the Romans’ home, Trista opens her door. “Oops,” she says, tripping as Natalie pushes her out of the way. They both fall onto the dew-filled grass and burst out laughing.

  I don’t look up at Alex. I don’t know what happened between us tonight, but it feels . . . weird. And scary. And maybe a little . . . nice?

  “See you Monday,” he says.

  “Be careful,” is all I can think to say. At least all the drunks are dropped off someplace safe. I hope Natalie’s parents don’t wake up with all the noise these two are making.

  “You too.”

  I shut the passenger door and wonder what he thinks I have to be careful about. The only thing I’m in danger of right now is falling in love with the wrong boy.

  CHAPTER 16

  Seven Days

  It’s after eleven on Saturday morning, and I’m the first one awake. I sneak downstairs to the kitchen to find something to take my pills with. I have this morning’s doses in a blue old-lady pill container.

  Natalie’s mom is frosting cupcakes. It smells like coconut and cherries and something else. “The first creature emerges from the lair!” she says. “Coffee?” she asks, nodding toward their Keurig. “Mugs are in the cabinet above.”

  I smile. I love Natalie’s mom. “What kind of cupcakes are you making?” I ask as I poke through her basket of K-cups. I pick out a mocha.

  “Amaretto. These are for a friend’s baby shower this afternoon. But there are chocolate donuts in the oven for you girls.”

  “Smells heavenly.” I’m dumping my third spoonful of sugar into my mug when Natalie drags herself into the kitchen and plops herself on a barstool.

  She puts her head down on the bar. “I need sugar.” Her voice is muffled by her crossed arms. “I’m dying of low blood sugar.”

  I grin at Mrs. Roman as she pulls the donuts out of the oven. She arranges them on a pretty china plate and sets it on the bar. “Voilà. Sugar.”

  “It’s like magic!” Natalie says, lifting her head back up. “Thank you, Mommy.”

  Mrs. Roman rolls her eyes. “Okay, girls. Don’t make yourselves sick. I have to get these cupcakes over to Bethany’s house. Andria, is your mom picking you up or do you need a ride home?”

  Not having a license sucks. “My stepdad can get me. Mom’s got an open house in Dogwood Trace.”

  Mrs. Roman nods as she finishes packing up her cupcakes. “Pretty houses out there. See you girls later.”

  As soon as her mom leaves, Natalie puts her donut down. “So, was I imagining things or were you hanging out with Alex Hammond last night?”

  “We were the only two sober people there.”

  “So you weren’t, like, hooking up?” I can’t tell for sure, but it looks like there’s a glimmer of hope in her eyes. Or possibly worry.

  “Are you kidding me? Why would I be interested in him? And why the hell would he be interested in me?”

  She shrugs with a sad smile. “I guess it would be weird, r
ight?”

  “What would be weird?” Trista says, yawning in the doorway. “Ooh, caffeine.” She rummages through the basket of coffee.

  “If Andria and Alex started going out.”

  Trista lets the Extra Bold Mountain Blend cup fall out of her hand as she stares at me. “Beyond weird. Alternate-universe weird. Andria, are you alternate-universe Andria? Have you come in peace?”

  I roll my eyes. “Don’t worry. All is still right with this universe. Alex and I are not going out.” I glance at Natalie as I grab a donut. “And we never will.”

  She sighs. “I still think he’s a little unstable. But you would look cute together.”

  Trista goes back to brewing her coffee. “Because he looked cute with her twin sister. That’s messed up, Nat. Besides, didn’t we see him with Erin yesterday?”

  Natalie licks chocolate glaze off her fingers. God, why can’t my mom make homemade donuts instead of quinoa and flaxseed muffins? “But then Erin was with Caleb last night.”

  “Anyway, I think you were right when you said Alex was still not over Iris,” I say. “And I’m not into drug addicts.”

  Trista hmmphs as she brings her mug of coffee to the bar and grabs a donut. “Even if he’s not an addict anymore, and even if he wasn’t still hung up on Iris, you can do much better. Pluto Alex has a billion issues. And I don’t think you can fix that.”

  Natalie shrugs. “Well, he is a . . . complicated person.”

  I huddle over my coffee and frown. “What I want to know is, why are you with Thomas when Caleb is your knight in shining armor? You wore his jacket home last night.”

  Natalie blushes. “He chose to hang out with Erin. And Thomas would have given me his jacket if I’d asked him.”

  “But you didn’t have to ask Caleb,” I point out, taking my pills out of my baggie. I line them up on the counter. Pink circle, blue oval, pink oval. My coffee is cool enough to swallow the pills without burning my throat.

  I hate taking medicine in front of my friends. It reminds them that I’m not like them. And so very different from Iris.

  “Seven days!!!” Natalie squeals.

  “Are we still going to Six Flags?” Trista asks.

 

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