Deep Blue Secret

by Christie Anderson

  He stood upright with a frustrated expression. “No matter how much you care for someone, you can’t force them to return the feelings.” The next thing I knew he was out the door. He didn’t even finish his tests.

  My mouth gaped at the closed door. Clearly this was a sore subject for the doctor. His interest in my mother was obvious. Why did she continue to turn him down? Was she holding back because of me? No, I’d always made it known I encouraged her to date.

  My thoughts were dispersed when a stocky nurse entered the room. “Your mom’s filling out some paperwork to check you out. Go ahead and get dressed, dear, she’ll be here in a few minutes to help you with your things.”

  Finally…time to go home.

  My mom insisted on gathering the last of my personal items in the room while I sat on the couch and watched. I twirled the stem of Rayne’s vibrant, orange daisy between my fingers while I waited; the one he brought to life with his Healing Water just four days ago.

  I pictured his brilliant smile in my mind and daydreamed, remembering his secret visit to my room. I kept the orange flower aside from the other floral arrangements. Most of them were wilted now, not worth bringing home. I didn’t even keep the orange daisy in water but it still looked perfect.

  When we finally left the hospital I hoped there wouldn’t be a reason to return anytime soon. I walked out the glass doors with a gleam in my eye, breathing in large sighs of fresh sunshine and coastal breeze as it waved around my cheeks.

  It was a different feeling from the dark air of the rooftop the night before, mysterious and exhilarating. Last night my legs floated forward without me knowing how they landed. The air today felt familiar, ordinary even. My feet moved with grounded, level steps towards the dolphin pattern on the wall of the parking structure I’d seen so many times before.

  Mom took me out to lunch before dropping me off at home and heading back to the hospital for her shift. As usual, we talked about obvious topics while we ate; my plans with Heather to go shopping and the dance on Saturday, the pile of homework left on the desk for me at home brought by several classmates, our plans for girl’s night tomorrow since it was her night off at the hospital.

  It was strange to have so much hidden information at the tip of my tongue without being able to share it with her. She was always there for me when I had questions about life—on the rare occasions they came up—but now I had secrets, things I knew but just couldn’t tell her.

  I didn’t like it. It felt wrong, like I was being dishonest. Yet it would feel just as wrong to tell her too. Keeping secrets was stressful.

  Mom pulled the car up our driveway. I was glad Heather would be over in less than an hour. Keeping my day full of distractions was working fairly well to keep my mind off of him. Of course that didn’t keep me from glancing in my bag every few minutes at my diary in hopes the purple rhinestone would be lit.

  “There’s a little surprise for you in the living room,” Mom said as the car idled. “It’s a welcome home gift.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” I said with pleasant surprise.

  “You’re gonna love it.” She looked at the clock and sighed. “I wish I could come watch your face when you see it, but I’m already running late.”

  “I can wait until you’re home to open it if you want.”

  She made a pouty gesture with her lip. “Oh, it will just take a minute,” she said eagerly, changing her mind. She leapt out of the car.

  I followed behind as she pranced up the sidewalk and unlocked the door. I pictured a brightly wrapped box on the coffee table filled with a new blouse or a cute pair of shoes. The door swung open and I realized I was way off.

  It didn’t even look like our house. My jaw fell as I glanced back and forth around the remodeled space; there was new furniture, new paint, even a new wood floor.

  I looked at her with wide eyes. “Whoa, what did you do?”

  She grinned. “What do you think? Do you like it?”

  “I love it!” I said.

  I wasn’t even here to help her this time.

  “When did you have time to do all this?” I wondered.

  She’d spent a lot of extra time at the hospital with me this week. It was hard to believe there was time left over to do all this work.

  “Well, I wasn’t sleeping much at first…” She saw the disapproval in my glare and changed direction. “Actually, Mark did most of it. I picked everything out, but he did the hard part.”

  Mark? Wow, she actually used Dr. Jensen’s first name. She didn’t even flinch or correct herself. That seemed like a good sign. I almost mentioned my conversation with the handsome doctor to her, but it wasn’t the time. She had to run to work and this was a topic that would take time to discuss.

  “That was so nice of him,” I said. “It looks amazing.”

  “I’m glad you like it,” Mom said. “It’s so good to have you home.”

  A little moisture pooled in her eyes. She looked away to conceal her emotions.

  I threw my arm around her. “Thanks, Mom. It’s great to be home.”

  She smiled at me for a moment then threw up her hands in realization. “I have to go. I’m late for work.” She gave me a kiss on the cheek and ran out the door.

  The living room looked great but it was all different and new to me. I took a few minutes to walk around the rest of the house and take in the familiarities. It started to feel like home again. I saved my room for last. I threw my bag to the ground and landed myself face first on the bed to give it a big hug.

  I turned on some cheerful music to welcome myself officially home and unpacked all the things that accumulated at the hospital. When I hung up my jacket in the closet, I noticed the large black hoodie hanging out of place in the corner. Rayne’s sweater; I forgot it was here. I yanked it down and held it close to my face. It didn’t smell right. The scent was too floral and breezy. My mom must have washed it while I was away.

  I pulled on the sweatshirt immediately and wore it around my room. Even without Rayne’s scent, it still gave me a measure of comfort, like part of him was wrapped around me. I tried to enjoy the sweater while I could; I would have to take it off when Heather arrived. She wouldn’t approve of being seen in public with me dressed in a ragged boy-sweater; especially at the mall.

  I peeled off the small Band-Aid concealing the birthmark on my wrist and tossed it in the trash. There was so much on my mind I’d almost forgotten about it. The color had changed again. It was still blue, but now it was darker like a sapphire. I wondered if it would stay blue or return to its usual pitch blackness.

  I examined my eyes in the mirror at my Grandmother’s vanity. They were darker too, maybe even darker than they were normally. There had to be some connection there with my birthmark, but I didn’t get to ask Rayne any of my questions last night.

  Maybe there would be a better chance when he returned later today. I took my watch from my jewelry box and secured it on my wrist.

  I continued to clean up around the room, glancing several times at the face of my diary, even though it wouldn’t light up for several hours. I decided to buy a new diary while shopping with Heather today. I certainly couldn’t write anything private in my old one. It had an even better purpose now.

  My cell phone chimed with the sound of an incoming text message and wishful thinking popped to the surface. I ran across the room. It could be a message from Rayne. My fingers fumbled with the phone buttons, revealing a message from Heather. Of course it was Heather. Logically this made a lot more sense; I just seemed to be forgetting logic lately.

  Heather showed up a few minutes later to drive us to the outdoor mall at Fashion Island. Although my car had been towed back to my house by Heather’s dad, it still sat with a flat tire parked at the curb. Heather usually drove when we went out anyway. Her car was much newer than mine, with a working radio and air conditioning.

  She was in a cheerful mood and hardly stopped between her excited chattering to breathe.

&nbs
p; “Everyone’s been talking about the dance around school today,” she said. “It’s going to be a blast. Julie just asked Connor to be her date, since she broke up with Darrin last week. She says they’re just going as friends, but I think they’ve secretly liked each other for a while now.”

  I wanted to be excited with her, but I was disinterested in the usual talk about friends and school. I had this weird, blah feeling. Maybe because I’d been away from everything at school for so long, or I was tired from having so many secrets bottled inside—or maybe it was just too hard to act happy when I knew Rayne didn’t have feelings for me.

  Heather and I barely made amends and I didn’t want to jeopardize that. I made an extra effort to disguise my mellow mood so she wouldn’t think I didn’t care.

  “Julie and Connor seem like they’d be cute together,” I said optimistically.

  “Julie wants to join our dinner group,” Heather said. “I told her I’d have to check with the restaurant, but I just called and they said it would be fine. That makes twelve of us now. Hopefully it won’t be too crazy with such a big group.”

  “I think a big group will be fun,” I said.

  “You’re right,” she agreed. “I can’t wait. So do you know what kind of shirts you want to look for?”

  “I haven’t really had a chance to think about it. Any suggestions?”

  “Well Nicole bought surf t-shirts for her and Brandon,” she said. “And Lindsey already bought hoodies for her and Zach. But I was thinking of doing something a little classier, you know, something both me and Nick will look really hot in.”

  “I’m sure you’ll look hot together no matter what you end up wearing,” I promised. “The hard part will be finding something that matches, that’s in both guys’ and girls’ sizes.”

  I was right; it was hard to find matching clothes for both us and our dates, especially with how picky Heather was being. She dragged me from store to store all afternoon in search of the perfect ensemble but never found what she was hoping for. I tried to pick out numerous possibilities, but there was always something she found wrong. The colors don’t match close enough, this one looks good on me but it won’t look right on a guy, that style’s too outdated.

  I was getting tired and it wasn’t an easy charade to disguise my gloom for Heather’s benefit. I stopped in front of a bench along the outdoor walkway.

  “Sit down for a minute,” I said. “Let’s take a break.”

  Heather plopped down frustrated on the bench next to me. “Maybe I should just give up,” she said overdramatically. Once she had her heart set on something, it was hard to bring her expectations down to reality. It was usually my job to remind her.

  “We still have a few stores left to look at,” I said. “And if you don’t find what you want there, we can always go back to those yellow sweaters we saw earlier. I thought you looked really cute in yours.”

  After the short break, we continued on to the next store on Heather’s list, not giving up on her quest. Luckily, at the second store we went to she found a pair of red sweaters she seemed excited about. I sighed with relief when I realized her clothing crisis was finally resolved.

  Now that her own situation was taken care of she focused all her attention on me.

  I wasn’t sure what type of clothes Rayne liked, but as far as I could tell it wasn’t out of the ordinary. The night we’d met at the beach he wore typical beach attire, cargo shorts and a t-shirt—along with his black sweatshirt I’d claimed as my own. And the other night at the hospital he wore jeans and a long sleeve, crew neck shirt—kind of a nicer, casual look.

  Sometimes I imagined him in a sleek, black suit, pointing a gun stealthily around corners like a government spy. It was a good look for him, but it was just my daydreams getting carried away.

  With Heather’s help I decided on a pair of light blue, button-up shirts, his in a slim-fit, men’s style and mine in a flattering feminine cut. Heather had the rest of my outfit planned before the shirts were even paid for; dark indigo jeans, white camisole, and black heeled boots. I didn’t mind. I wasn’t in the mood to worry about clothes so she was doing me a favor.

  Heather wanted to look at jewelry to add to our outfits. I wasn’t sure how much longer I could last and I really wanted to buy a new diary at the bookstore. She wasn’t exactly thrilled with that idea so we agreed to split up and meet afterward.

  The selection of diaries was limited, but I couldn’t expect any of them to live up to my old one. I checked in my bag for the hundredth time, hoping the stone would be lit on the purple book, signaling a new message from Rayne, but there was still no word from him.

  I flipped through the blank pages of a boring black journal on display. My feelings of melancholy seemed to be growing. I stared at the different journals and diaries on the shelf not caring which one I bought. I grabbed one without thought and carried it to a lounge chair in the back corner of the maze of bookshelves.

  As I sat blankly in the large chair, I found myself quietly singing to the song the store had playing over the speakers in the background. Worry lines creased my face as sadness crept in my heart. Was I going to have an emotional outburst right here in the large-chain bookstore?

  The feelings weren’t too overwhelming at first, at least not as bad or sudden as some of the crazy spells in the past. It was more of a gradual onset. Maybe I could avoid becoming overwhelmed if I thought of something uplifting.

  I pulled my old diary from my purse and flipped through the pages, searching for Rayne’s handwriting. I read through each of his messages again. It helped a little—at least I thought.

  A new song hummed over the speakers that sent an unnerving shiver up my spine.

  I wasn’t sure why the song bothered me. I didn’t know the name or who sang it, but it was strangely familiar; and I knew the lyrics for some reason. I sang a few whispered words without realizing I was doing it right away. The words rolled off my tongue in sync with the melody.

  My body became still and rigid, as if caught in a metal vice. It felt like I recalled a memory, only I couldn’t remember what it was. It wasn’t a pleasant memory though, it was something sad. Suddenly I felt sick, my stomach turning into knots. I didn’t want to feel the sadness. I fought the feeling, pushed it away. I covered my ears and hummed inside my head to drown out the emotions.

  It dragged on forever, but finally the song was over. To anyone else it would’ve been a perfectly nice song, but to me it felt like a punishment. I stayed in the chair, trying to pull myself together and bridle my emotions. It would be embarrassing to leave the store in tears. I focused on the new song that was playing—luckily, one that didn’t have negative sentiments attached—and took in deep calming breaths.

  Once I had control of myself, I decided to buy the new diary and leave the store as quickly as possible.

  I cleared my mind as best I could, sat upright in the cushy chair and unclenched my arms that hugged my old diary to my chest. I moved the book down to my lap and gazed at the center of the butterfly pattern. I’d waited all day for the light to shine and finally, when I needed it most, the purple glow appeared.

  17. RENDEZVOUS

  Contradicting emotions surged through my chest, both joy and pain. My mind was relieved, finally hearing from Rayne, yet my body continued to ache with sadness. Normally I would’ve flipped through the pages of my diary at lightning speed to see his message but my fingers moved apathetically through the book.

  Tears glistened in the corners of my eyes when I finally reached his words on the page:

  IS SOMETHING WRONG? ARE YOU ALL RIGHT?

  The phrase sent a new flood of emotions clenching through me. Knowing he was there brought comfort, but also triggered a release of the feelings I was trying hard to suppress. The wetness that had only hovered on the surface of my eyes now ran in small streams down my face.

  It felt like he’d read my mind. For a second I thought he knew how I was feeling, was somehow aware of my distress. But he cou
ldn’t have known—could he? I wanted to poor out every thought in my heart to him but instead tried to hold it in, to brush it off as nothing. I quickly wrote:

  I’m okay. I’m at the mall. I might go home soon though, I’m not feeling well.

  That sounded casual, right? Like it was just a stomach ache or something.

  I barely moved, aside from wiping my wet cheeks with my hand. I was glad there weren’t any shoppers nearby to witness my lack of self-control. Rayne’s response surprised me a little as a new message appeared on the page:

  NOT FEELING WELL PHYSICALLY OR EMOTIONALLY?

  He saw right through me. I should’ve known. It was embarrassing enough that he read my past diary entries, I wasn’t about to tell him any new embarrassing moments too. I didn’t want him to think I was some sort of needy, emotional basket case.

  Although, now that I thought about it, I was surprised he even needed to ask for clarification. For all I knew he was spying on me right now. It was hard to hide anything from him.

  Even when I tried, he always figured things out in one way or another. He needed to know because it was his job. He didn’t care if I was a total head case; he just cared about doing his duty. There wasn’t much point in fighting it. I replied with the truth and wrote:

  Mostly emotional I think.

  I barely lifted my pen off the page before his writing appeared below mine:

  I NEED TO SEE YOU. I’M NOT FAR.

  I inhaled a happy breath. He needed to see me. I was probably reading into his words more than he meant, but it was hard not to feel hope. How was it possible to need someone as much as I needed him right now? I hated to admit it, but reading his words only multiplied my longing to be with him. I couldn’t get over how illogical it was to have such strong feelings for him so fast, but I was far past logic.