Autumn… a season of dying. Her muse never rested: even now, she was composing pathetic poetry. Eyes fluttering softly, she sang to herself, snatches of songs strung together, coherency lost to chemicals as she tumbled down her rabbit hole to safety.
111
Change Of Season
SEVEN
Toronto; October 15, 2010
A squeal behind Autumn’s head caused her to spin around, triggering a neck spasm and making her wince in pain. Scampering down the hall in a black mini-dress was her best friend, Heather Saunders, her backpack slapping lightly with each galloping step. Her pale blue eyes were wide, her smile enormous.
Football captain must have asked her out to the dance tonight, after all, Autumn concluded. So much for all the girls going stag out of spite!
“Autumn!” Heather shrieked, earning a glare from the art students congregated on the floor nearby. “Holy shit! Have you been to your locker yet?”
Autumn frowned. “No. I had Science and Math this morning and the books were with me. Heather, what’s going on? Did you start your day with Pixy Stix again?” The gears slid into place in her brain and she felt her heart stop. “What’s wrong with my locker?”
“Of course you haven’t seen it yet, or you wouldn’t be – well, you!” Heather hugged her tightly, which only compounded Autumn’s concern. “Come! See!”
There was no choice: Heather seized her hand and literally dragged her down the hallway, past several groups of girls who were far too interested in Autumn for her liking, past the music room where the band was rehearsing, and sailing around to the Drama hall, where for reasons unknown, Autumn had her locker assigned. As she rounded the corner, she immediately gasped and felt her head spin.
Her locker was covered in balloons and orchids. Covered. Batting her eyes furiously against the spins, she made out at least five flowers and eight balloons in a variety of colours. A bag of aerodynamic Skittles had vomited on her beige locker door.
“I’m gonna be sick,” Autumn murmured.
“This is so sweet! You know he did this!” Heather enthused.
“My locker is Winnie The Pooh. It’s about to take flight towards the freaking honey tree,” Autumn grumbled. “Is everyone staring?” She couldn’t bear to look herself.
“Of course they are!”
“I’m gonna hurl,” Autumn moaned.
Autumn’s palm pressed to her forehead as a headache blossomed beneath. This was insane. Crazy. Okay sure, she’d finally let Chris take her to a movie – with Heather and her date, as well as Corrina. Maybe she’d chatted with him once or twice on the bleachers. Maybe they’d made out at Greg Desouza’s party last week, after drinking far too much schnapps. But she’d been perfectly clear about tonight’s Homecoming Dance being a girls’ night. Judging from this display, either a clown had moved into her locker, or Chris wasn’t ready to take no for a final answer.
“Help me get rid of it,” Autumn hissed at Heather.
“What? No way! This is so sweet of him. You really should go with him. He likes you,” Heather whispered back.
“I know.”
“And didn’t you say he was an epic kisser?” Heather continued quietly.
“Heather, you know how Homecoming goes! He wants one thing, and I don’t want to give it to him,” Autumn grumbled.
“Maybe, maybe not. You could still go with him, and leave with Corrina and me at the end,” Heather suggested. “Either way, think fast: he’s coming over.”
“What? Shit!”
Loose waves of auburn tumbled over her face as Autumn bowed her head in embarrassment. The whispering girls nearby grew cattier in their cacophony, the dirge dulled only by the erratic pounding of her heart. Heather, in contrast, was glowing in delight, and for a moment, Autumn considered suggesting Chris take her to the dance – and move the kaleidoscope on her door to Heather’s locker while he was at it. Damn it! Now what am I going to do? Oh hell!
“Autumn Brody: just the lovely lady I’ve been looking for all morning!”
Maybe if I pretend not to hear him, he’ll just go away… or get distracted by that model over there.
“Answer him,” Heather growled quietly.
“Do I have to?” Autumn retorted under her breath. Turning around reluctantly, hair protectively draped across her cheeks, she forced a smile. “Chris Miller: the living embodiment of a Rick Astley song. Ever consider giving up?”
His hand came to rest upon the locker beside her as he winked playfully. “Never crossed my mind. Do you like your surprise? Heather told me of your appreciation of orchids.”
Autumn glared angrily at her purported best friend, who winced and mouthed an apology. “I don’t care for surprises, and my best friend knows it.”
Chris dialed up his perpetual smile to a celebrity stunner, and Autumn swore someone’s panties literally dropped behind her. “You don’t respond to the direct approach, Autumn. You pose a challenge. A guy’s gotta pull out all the stops with you, it seems.”
“Consider them pulled. Please stop yanking on them?”
He leaned in, his bright blue eyes focused upon hers as he whispered in her ear. “The dance. Go with me.”
“I d-don’t want you to get the wrong idea,” Autumn murmured, pinching her thigh in a desperate attempt to remain calm. Those lips… God, they’re soft – NO!
“What idea would that be?” His voice was husky, his breath warm upon her ear. “We go, we dance. Or are things different in Toronto?”
She summoned what little snark remained in the puddle of girl she was fast becoming. “Oh it’s like She’s All That: choreographed group numbers, bets about geeky art girls. Have you learned the steps?”
“Teach me, then.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Heather fawning over their exchange as if it were the chick flick of the week on Lifetime. I am going to strangle her. I am not her Barbie doll, and he is not Ken, and this is not Degrassi. Her heart raced wildly as she ran her hand through her hair to buy time to steel her resolve.
“I meet you there,” Autumn cautioned.
“Okay.”
“I’m taking the TTC home with Heather,” she added firmly.
Chris shrugged. “Okay.”
“And you make this shit disappear off my locker door, like now.” Her eyes met his, pleading for mercy. “I’m serious. Go give them to a hospital ICU or something.”
Heather gasped. “No way! They’re so pretty! And these are primo orchids – definitely not grocery store.”
“Heather?” Autumn cooed, glancing to her friend. “Shut up.”
“You have to keep the orchids,” Chris insisted, edging closer.
“And do what with them all day? I have class, remember?”
“Keep three of them. A small bouquet.”
Autumn rolled her eyes. “One orchid. Final offer, Miller.”
Without warning, his lips crashed into hers, and Autumn melted into the locker behind her back with a sigh. His lips were as soft as she remembered, his scent as intoxicating as the night they’d tangled together on Greg’s couch. I’m so screwed, Autumn realized as her hand toyed with his waves. As he pulled away, he thrust the largest bloom towards her right hand with a wink.
“Done. See you tonight, Ms. Brody.”
She drew shuddering breaths as he plucked the balloons and flowers free, inwardly cursing his nonchalance. It was unfair, the effect he had upon her. He was magnetic, mesmerizing with just a smile. Someone called her a bitch across the hall, but she couldn’t care enough to reply. Chris must really want me as a person, she mused. Why would he go to so much trouble just to dance and make out? He could have any girl in the school – hell, a whole entourage across the hall lay in waiting. The gentle kiss on her cheek as he departed, oblivious to staring eyes, said everything she needed to hear.
“Oh my god!” Heather shrieked, hugging her tightly. “He is so romantic! Isn’t he romantic?”
“He is,” Autumn sighed happily. “And persist
ent.”
“Good thing he is! You are going to be the envy of our entire grade tonight!”
Autumn jabbed her friend’s arm hard. “I’m still pissed at you for helping him Hallmark-bomb my locker.”
Heather grinned. “You’ll get over it. Ooh! We’ll have to do your hair. I’ll come over right after I drop my books at home. You need to be a princess!”
“Heather-”
“Shut up! I’m living vicariously through you. Now, let’s go grab lunch and plan out your look!”
With a sigh, Autumn acquiesced, following Heather absently down the hall with her orchid still in hand. So much to do before tonight… She would never understand his fascination with her, but she was grateful he’d looked her way – and continued to stare. If this was some strange, complex dream, she hoped to never awaken from it.
***
Heather and Corrina squealed in delight as Britney Spears called out for a girl named Amy, her two friends pulling Autumn to her feet to dance beneath the shimmering blue lights. Autumn laughed, slightly tipsy from the spiked punch she’d downed unwittingly an hour ago. The gym was pulsing with the damp bodies around them, the teacher chaperones turning a blind eye to kissing couples in the shadows. Her black silk dress clung to her bare thighs as she and Heather began to grind, earning hoots from the footballers nearby – one of whom was Heather’s crush. Corrina twirled and swayed around them, her wrist lit by a glow bracelet that matched her fuschia gown perfectly.
“This is the best dance ever!” Heather exclaimed, giggling as her white strapless dress slid down, revealing a little more cleavage.
“It’s pretty damn wonderful,” Autumn agreed, swaying her head side to side and giggling as her curls flew in each direction.
To her right she saw Chris returning and felt her lips curl into a grin. True to their agreement, he’d met up with them at eight, an orchid corsage in hand to match the purple tie he wore with what Heather had sworn was “a genuine Armani suit, in the flesh!” and he’d been a perfect gentlemen – except when she’d wanted him to not be. A flush spread across her cheeks as he spun her away from Heather, pulling her tight against his hips, swaying with her to the beat.
“I missed you,” he murmured in her ear.
“You were gone five minutes,” Autumn countered breathlessly.
“Five minutes too long,” Chris insisted, dipping her backwards and pulling her back up to meet his lips.
Feeling bold, she coyly replied, “I’ll make it up to you.”
Spinning around, she pressed her back against him, her hips grinding against his groin as she sang along with the music. She heard him groan, his hands drifting to grip her hips as his arousal become undeniable. Tease? Maybe she was, but he’d been no better, ghosting his lips over her neck in the way he knew made her knees buckle at every opportunity. Corrina whistled and Autumn laughed, nearly falling forward, saved by Chris’ grip upon her body.
God, she loved the feel of his hands on her!
“You’ll be the death of me, Autumn,” Chris moaned in her ear.
“You asked me to be your date, Miller,” Autumn teased. “You play with a fiery redhead and you get burned.” She had no idea what had come over her, but with him, she felt empowered, bold and brash.
“Moth to the flame,” Chris replied, his tongue drifting lightly over her earlobe. “I need air before I combust.”
She needed air, too; it was harder to breathe with his body melded to hers. And those lips… With a whispered explanation to Heather, Autumn led Chris through the main corridor, ducking quickly through a side hallway that spilled into a small courtyard. It was technically off limits for the dance, but Autumn knew the supposedly secure latch was anything but. Chris grinned as she edged towards the bench in the corner, inhaling the crisp air deep into her lungs.
“A personal hideaway?”
She shook her head. “Nah, most of the football team knows this place is never locked up right. But for now, it looks deserted.” Sitting down anxiously on the bench, she flipped her hair back over her shoulder, eyes averted. “Still combusting?”
“Always, when you’re near,” Chris growled, pulling her half onto his lap as he kissed her hard.
She melted into him, her arms tightly wound around his neck, fingers fisting in his hair as she met his fevered his kiss with her own heat. It was Greg DeSouza’s party all over again, only this time, she was wearing something far more flimsy and the surface beneath her was cold and unyielding. His hands cupped her rear, squeezing gently, and she heard herself groan into his mouth. In a fleeting thought, she knew that if she wanted to, she could go home with him. They wouldn’t have sex – she was firm on that, no matter how erratically her pulse ran in his presence – but they could kiss more, touch, taste…
Too soon, her sensible self intervened. This is enough for now.
Distantly, she could hear an old Def Leppard song playing, and she almost laughed at what a movie cliché this was becoming. Her sensible self irritated her; she wanted – needed – more. She wanted to be held, wanted his kisses everywhere. She was a raging ball of hormones in desperate need of a cold shower. As Chris cupped her breast, she gasped. Shower. An ice bath. Shit, I’ve gotta stop this. She pushed against his chest, coming up for air.
“Chris-” It was a weak protest, but it was a start.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, sucking on her neck roughly. “I can’t believe you’re with me.”
“Chris, please…”
He paused, his eyes lusty as they met hers. “What’s wrong?”
Autumn sighed, feeling conflicted. Why can’t I just enjoy this? What is wrong with me? But she couldn’t – not without telling him… well, that this movie was staying PG-13 tonight.
“I’m not coming home with you,” she blurted out quickly.
Chris tilted his head in confusion. “I never asked you to-”
“This is getting… I can’t go home. With you, I mean. Of course I can go home, but not your home. Shit!”
Chris chuckled, his hand grazing her cheek. “Autumn, you told me this already, remember?” He kissed her gently and she swooned inwardly. “I have more respect for you than that. I know I’m older, but cut me some slack. I do have a right hand and a strong wrist.”
“Eww!” Autumn laughed, nearly falling backwards. “Visual unnecessary!”
He pulled her back into his lap, cradling her to his chest. “You get the point. I’m just happy to be with you.”
Autumn blushed, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re unbelievable.”
“No, I’m patient,” he countered. “There will be other dates.”
“Oh will there? What makes you so sure?”
“Because…” He sighed, tracing a finger along her jaw line. “I always get what I want, eventually.”
“And I’m what you want?” Her heart skipped and stopped, breath hitched in her throat.
“Isn’t it obvious?”
A crackling of electricity – no, just dead leaves, swirling wildly along the cement beneath them. Autumn’s namesake was mocking her now. How fitting. She’d only just leaned in for another taste of Chris when a door in dire need of WD-40 slid across the courtyard. Cursing under her breath, Autumn settled innocently on the bench beside her date, smoothing her dress over her knees.
“Alright kids, you know the courtyard’s off limits,” a burly teacher bellowed at them from inside. “Back to the gym, or else.”
Before Autumn could speak, Chris rose and moved forward, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, sir. It was my idea to sit out here. I had no idea.”
“Yeah, yeah, just head back in.”
Autumn was able to make out the teacher’s face now: it was the jerk from the Science department who’d tried to force her to do a dissection. Keeping her head bowed low, she followed Chris back towards the gym, her hand in his. Mercifully, she went unrecognized. The bastard enjoyed taunting her in class on a daily basis. The last thing she needed was a call home to he
r parents.
The dance was winding down: half the crowd had departed, and there was a finality to the DJ spinning Florence + The Machine’s "Dog Days Are Over". Heather, to her delight, was dancing with Mike Duffie, starting running back on the football team and the latest apple of her eye. Corrina had disappeared, but she always left early. With a grin, Chris lifted her into the air, spinning her around before setting her dizzy feet upon the slick tiles and dancing to the upbeat melody. The lights were blurring into each other, but in a good way: coherence, unity of a kind.
Were she and Chris a union now?
Autumn dismissed the thought. That’s crazy! It’s just one date! Okay, maybe it’s number two, kind of, but still! Heather swayed closer, hip checking her best friend and returning to the inviting arms of Mike. There would be a lengthy conversation on the subway tonight, no doubt. Heather would want every invasive detail, right down to the precise taste of Chris’ mouth. She was a typical gossiping teen in that way, but she also had a good heart. She’d never abandoned Autumn, in spite of her popularity and social networks.
“And this is our last song of the night!” the DJ announced as the song wound down. “Happy Homecoming, Jarvis Collegiate, and get home safe.”
Her eyes rolled as the music began, slow and acoustic, prompting Chris to eye her quizzically.
“Twilight. A song from freaking Twilight,” she explained. “And yeah, it’s nice, but painfully predictable.”
They swayed slowly, her head leaning against his chest wearily. Iron & Wine played on softly as a scattering of other couples kept them company on the floor. Her shoe was sticky from spilled punch, her back damp from the claustrophobic heat. Her toes ached from the narrow heels she wore – borrowed from Corrina’s endless collection of shoes.
She couldn’t stop smiling.
Her smile lingered through softly-spoken goodbyes, through promises to call tomorrow. It highlighted the details shared with Heather on the way home, her friend gushing so loudly that the driver of their bus actually shushed her. It met her mother, telling her the dance was wonderful, that she was off to bed now. And in her dreams, she smiled, walking along Woodbine Beach with Chris, sharing quiet jokes and enjoying the boats dotting the horizon.
Change Of Season Page 11