The Year of the Beasts

by Cecil Castellucci

  “What did he say?” Celina asked.

  “He said sorry,” Tessa said. “He won’t stand there again.”

  Then Celina and Lulu changed the subject, but Tessa only heard every sixth word, because her mind was filled with only thoughts of Jasper.

  Tessa began kissing Jasper in secret whenever she had the chance, and not one person said that she looked any different. No one teased her that she was in love. No one cooed and cawed as though her first love was as cute as a passel of puppies. No one sighed around her or smiled.

  But Tessa felt different. She was blooming, too. She could tell it was true when she caught sight of herself in mirrors and windows.

  At first she didn’t think she liked him at all. She just liked the secret of him. Because whenever Tessa was in a room with Charlie and he cozied up to Lulu, Tessa hurt. She couldn’t help but wonder why she wasn’t the one that Charlie wanted to be close to all the time, when she always wanted to sit next to him, stare at him, talk to him. But then sometimes, she felt differently about that; and then when she was with Jasper alone in the woods, she couldn’t imagine any other eyes than his.

  She wasn’t sure what real love felt like, but when she lay in the woods with Jasper and they would stare up at the sunlight pouring down through the trees, she would marvel at the powerful thing she felt. It was dark under those trees, but when there was a breeze, the leaves would rustle and the light—when it managed to break through—would stab her and then disappear. It was the same as what she had begun to feel for Jasper; like she’d been stabbed with a sudden light.

  Sometimes a deer would come close to them, oblivious that they lay there among the leaves. A twig would crack, and the deer would turn and notice them. Both human and beast would stay very still and stare until after a while, the deer would turn at a noise further along and move elegantly away.

  Then they would wrap their arms around each other and pull close. Silence surrounded them. Their breath would fall in time with each other. Their eyes would say everything and their lips would only kiss. Their fingers would find each other and hold fast.

  “There’s a beast in all of us, you know,” Jasper said.

  “No,” Tessa said.

  “Yes, a monster right inside of us all,” Jasper said.

  They wondered what theirs looked like. They faced each other and blinked while making faces to try to capture the phantom.

  Sometimes Jasper and Tessa listened to each other’s heart beat or to the river rambling by or to the traffic from the highway a mile away. The sounds were soft, sometimes loud, sometimes like half-understood words. Tessa would turn to Jasper and be amazed by his eyes. She fell into them, they were her secret watering holes, and she would just swim in them. She liked to imagine that he felt the same way about her eyes. He was mostly quiet, though. So she satisfied herself with the fact that they would hold each other tightly, limbs all wrapped up together until she couldn’t tell where they were different. Tessa thought that Jasper’s skin felt like it was her own skin. And she would cover him in kisses, sometimes confusing her own hand with his.

  When Jasper did speak, he wondered aloud.

  “Who put that sculpture over by the bridge?”

  “What is the purpose of wrapping a string around a ham?”

  “Where does the end of the road end?”

  “When will I know how old is old?

  “How many craters are there on the moon?”

  Tessa never knew the answers, but she always tried with all seriousness to answer.

  “A small man in a blue peacoat who came down from the mountain ten years ago.”

  “That is how a pig is caught.”

  “At the place where the tallest tree and smallest stone meet.”

  “When you forget where your bicycle is chained.”

  “Not more than needles on a pine tree, not less than the licks it takes to finish an ice-cream cone.”

  Jasper would laugh and say that she could be right, but might be wrong. Tessa was sure that it didn’t matter. Sometimes she would play an imaginary game with herself where she would try to imagine what it would be like to grow older and find out the right answers together. But older seemed like something so far away that even a year from now seemed like a forever away.

  * * *

  Initially Tessa hated that Lulu was always tagging along. But soon Tessa began to secretly like the fact that Lulu was with them. Lulu being there gave her a chance to slip away by herself. The girls would lie around in Celina’s cool bedroom and flip through magazines and paint their nails and talk about kissing. And then Tessa would go to the kitchen or to the bathroom or to get something back home or at the store down the street, and could do so and take her time without leaving either of them alone.

  She would disappear from Celina’s house and slip into the adjacent woods to meet Jasper. Sometimes they would steal quick kisses, sometimes they would say hello and finish a debate from a topic they had discussed the day before, or they would walk down to Main Street. When they did, they were careful to walk on opposite sides of the street so that they didn’t look like they were together. They would go to the convenience store and buy ice-cream sandwiches. They would pretend to ignore each other, but they would lean into the freezer at the same time to reach for the ice cream and their fingers would touch, and despite the cold and the ice, there was always a definite shock of warmth between them.

  After taking too long lingering for one last moment with Jasper, Tessa would bring the ice cream, now soft, back to Celina’s house. And more often than not, Celina and Lulu hardly even noticed that Tessa had been away for any unusual length of time. They would have decided on some late afternoon or evening plan without her. Sometimes it was boating, sometimes going to the cornfield, sometimes getting one of their parents to drive them to the mall so they could shop or see a movie. Whatever it was, it always involved Charlie and his friends and Tessa always agreed that it was a good plan.

  Sometimes Tessa tried to imagine suggesting inviting Jasper to come with them all. She rolled the idea around in her mind more than once. She even asked him if he’d like her to invite him along. He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head.

  “No, I don’t think so.”

  Jasper told her that he wasn’t interested in laughing stupidly or flinging popcorn or shoplifting chocolate bars from Rite Aid.

  “One day you’ll want to come,” Tessa said.

  “Unlikely.”

  But truthfully, she could never picture it becoming a reality. Jasper seemed so other. Although if she had thought about it in a different way, she probably would have realized that she could have maybe convinced him that it was a good idea. That playing normal meant spending more time with Tessa. Jasper would have been happy to do that.

  Instead, he watched from his house as they all left without him.

  chapter

  eight

  chapter

  nine

  Despite their best intentions, there was a friction between the sisters that was undeniable. You could feel it in the house. They sat with it at breakfast. They passed it between them as though it were something simple, like the salt or the bacon or the coffee.

  Tessa had tried to suppress the grudge she had about Lulu stealing Charlie. She had kept it inside, pushed down to fill all the crushed cracks about it. Tessa knew that she should maybe let it go. But still, it wasn’t fair. Tessa felt strongly that despite the fact that she secretly had Jasper, it didn’t matter.

  And then sometimes, to make things worse, Lulu would rub it in. It might not have been on purpose, but it felt like it. Lulu would come home and swoon around the living room. Sighing heavily. Touching things on the shelves. She did it on purpose. She would pull out a book and put it back or pick up an object and replace it just so. Sometimes, when she sighed she would quietly say the word that Tessa didn’t want to hear.

  “Charlie.”

  Tessa tried to let it go.

  But every time
Tessa looked at Lulu, Tessa’s eyes were not soft or open. They stared out at her sister harder than they should have. They were hurtful. They were harsh.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Lulu said.

  “Like what?”

  “All mean.”

  Tessa couldn’t help herself. Her eyes were accusing. And rightly so. Tessa felt that Lulu had a lot to be sorry for. Lulu had stolen something from Tessa. She wasn’t innocent in the affair. She knew why Tessa looked at her that way.

  “What should I do?” Lulu said.

  “You know,” Tessa said.

  “I do not,” Lulu said. But the look she gave Tessa told her that she did know what would make things right. Lulu could make things better in the house—with a sincere apology.

  After all, hadn’t Lulu heard all about Charlie from Tessa? Hadn’t she even gone with Tessa to football games and cheered him on, never once thinking of him as someone that was for her?

  Lulu always said she could barely keep track of which one he was on the field. She could only remember him by his number: Evans 10. And after the games she used to say that she didn’t think that Charlie was her type. She liked boys who were soft and dreamy looking, like the ones on the posters in her bedroom. The ones whose fan clubs she’d joined. They had longish hair and full lips and didn’t look like they would ever turn into men. They were safe.

  One night in their shared bathroom, Tessa caught Lulu rubbing cream on her chin.

  “What’s wrong with your face?” Tessa said.

  Lulu nearly burst into tears.

  “Is it awful? Do I look awful?” Lulu cried.

  “Yes,” Tessa said. And that made her feel a little bit better.

  “It’s just that Charlie is like, a man!” Lulu said. “He has the beginnings of a mustache and beard and I can feel it sometimes when he’s forgotten to shave. It’s so stubbly!”

  “That’s gross,” Tessa said. She looked at her own face in the mirror as she washed it with soap and put her hair band in to keep her curls and their oil off her forehead while she slept. She had no rawness despite having kissed Jasper for an hour that day. Jasper was made up of soft. Soft skin. Soft eyes. Soft lips. Soft mustache.

  “It’s a prickly little thing, and it makes my mouth and chin raw when we kiss,” Lulu said.

  Tessa noticed that her sister’s lips were shiny with too much Chapstick.

  “Tell him to shave,” Tessa said.

  Lulu threw her hands up in the air.

  “I do! And he always promises that he will! But then he forgets, because he doesn’t really have that much hair. It’s just so pointy! Even after three days he looks clean shaven, but I know he’s not because then this happens!”

  Tessa felt sorry for her sister and for a moment she softened. She turned to Lulu and listened. Lulu blabbered on. Confiding in Tessa; sharing. It was almost like old times. Except that Tessa didn’t say anything back that was helpful or comforting. She was as unyielding as a stone wall.

  And it was strange, because they had always shared—always. It was only since the carnival that things had started to change. Sometimes Tessa even wanted to share. Who better to share secrets with than your sister?

  It pinched Tessa deep down that she was hurting Lulu. But it couldn’t be helped.

  * * *

  One day, after almost enough kisses from Jasper in the woods, Tessa could tell that Lulu knew that something was up. She came around the house and found Lulu and Celina on the front porch sitting on the porch swing. They looked upset.

  “Where were you?” Lulu asked.

  “Nowhere,” Tessa responded. She handed them the melted ice cream.

  Lulu put her hands on her hips and pursed her lips in an I-know-better way.

  “What?” Tessa challenged.

  Then Lulu stood up and plucked a pine needle caught in Tessa’s hair. Presented it as evidence.

  “I went down to the river,” Tessa said. “I went walking in the woods on the way back. It’s none of your business.”

  “We’ve been waiting for forever,” Celina said.

  “I hardly thought you noticed,” Tessa said.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” Celina asked.

  Tessa slid a look over at Lulu, and without words, Celina softened. She knew, the way that a good friend clues in, sometimes late, but eventually, that she had been paying too much attention to Lulu.

  “We’re late,” Lulu said. “Now the stores will be closed.”

  Tessa didn’t care about the stores.

  “We can go tomorrow, Lulu.” Celina said.

  Lulu was still fingering the pine needle, looking at it with eyes that remembered the stories they used to tell each other about those woods.

  Tessa knew that her sister would ask no more questions about it, even if Celina did. After all, didn’t Lulu like to walk by herself in those very woods? Didn’t she like to imagine that she was the only girl alive on the whole planet? Didn’t she, on occasion, sit with her back to a tree and read a book, or do some other thing, like dream, or think. It was quiet in the woods. And day-to-day life was always so noisy: their parents asking all kinds of questions, teachers making demands that facts and numbers be remembered, and friends and social obligations that required immediate attention through IMs, texts, emails, and phone calls. Sometimes, a walk in the woods was the only way to escape.

  It was the quiet.

  It took Lulu a couple of more days to muster up the courage to do it. But it was as though the fact that Tessa was keeping things from her had made her see things differently. One night, after a day of the silent treatment from Tessa, she took a deep breath and said it aloud.

  “I’m sorry,” Lulu said. Putting her hand across the dinner table and squeezing her sister’s hand. “I’m so sorry for everything.”

  Immediately Tessa felt lighter. Like the sorriness inside of her had changed its state from a heavy element to a light one. She was not experienced at accepting apologies and was afraid that she would do it clumsily.

  “You should be,” Tessa said. As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she knew for sure that she had accepted it wrong.

  Lulu left the room and slammed the door.

  The apology hadn’t changed anything.

  chapter

  ten

  chapter

  eleven

  Right after Lulu kissed Charlie at the carnival, it was discovered that her feet had grown two sizes. Lulu’s mother took them shopping and Lulu got four new pairs of shoes—all of them beautiful. Tessa begged for a new pair, too. But their mother pointed out that now that Tessa had all of Lulu’s shoes as well as her own, she had many more shoes than her sister. Tessa would have to settle for the hand-me-downs. Lulu brought all her old shoes and dumped them into Tessa’s closet.

  Even though they were a little over a year apart, Tessa and Lulu always had been almost the same size. Sometimes one of them had a little spurt and then the other caught up. And then it was the younger sister’s turn to grow. But one thing that had always remained the same size was their feet. In the past, they had always been able to share shoes.

  “Here,” Lulu said. “I don’t need these anymore.”

  This was the beginning of the end. Lulu’s feet were bigger than Tessa’s, and somehow, in Lulu’s size, the shoes were always cuter.

  When Lulu grew another two inches, it became clear that Lulu had sprouted and Tessa had leveled off. Lulu gave her older sister all of her cast-off sweaters, skirts, and dresses. Tessa was a smoldering coal ready to light up at any moment. It was confusing to look up at her younger sister. It made her angry sometimes.

  Their mother would tell them to go shopping.

  “Girls, why don’t I drop you off at the mall today and get Lulu some new things?” she’d said. When they got there she’d give Lulu some cash and tell her to spend it wisely.

  Tessa would put out her hand for her cash, and her mother would look at her as though she should know better.

&nb
sp; “I need new things, too.”

  “Tessa, we’re not made of money,” their mother said. “You’ll have to make do with what you have. Besides, you’ll have all of Lulu’s old clothes.”

  At the mall, Lulu would skip from store to store, trying on everything aided by Celina, who acted as stylist, pulling things that made her look chic.

  “You’re going to be the best dressed freshman this year,” Celina said. “Everyone is going to want to be your friend.”

  Tessa would finger the things she wanted but couldn’t buy. She’d act impatiently and hurry them out of the store. She’d pretend she couldn’t find what they were looking for when Lulu and Celina called upon her from the dressing room to find a different size. She’d go to the food court and sit with all the bags while they went to just one more store.

  Tessa believed that Lulu was stealing her place. Now Lulu was tall. Now she was close with Celina. Now she had Charlie. Tessa thought that Lulu was stealing everything that was rightfully hers. Especially the new shoes.

  Once, they got to Celina’s house before Charlie and the boys came over, and Tessa faked a headache. She didn’t want them to see her in her same old clothes. Not while Lulu and Celina were changing into their fresh new outfits and looking like they were closer than ever. How could she enjoy burgers and a movie in her same old clothes? She couldn’t.

  “Feel better,” Celina said.

  “See you at home,” Lulu said.

  If there were such a thing as a dark cloud over someone’s head, Tessa had one. It was a stormy little thing. With hail and lightning and thunder. And no silver lining.

  Tessa stood in the hallway of Celina’s house. It was filled with bookcases and knickknack holders made of modern wood that curved. It looked both old and futuristic at the same time. She felt further away from her best friend and her sister than ever. She thought she would go straight home. But instead, she found herself in the woods on the path to Jasper’s house. She imagined that he’d invite her in and she would see his room. Maybe they would watch a movie. Or play his video games. Then before the movie let out, she’d go home and say she’d decided to get some peppermint tea on Main Street.