by Fuller, Tara
“Well are we going to take her for a ride or not? I want to make sure you can handle her alright before I hand you the reigns.” He smiled, his hand on the chrome door handle. I glanced back down the street one last time before shaking off the feeling.
“Yeah. Let’s go.” I climbed into the driver’s seat and cranked the ignition, feeling invigorated as the car roared to life beneath me
Chapter 4
She is real. God in heaven she’s real! I saw her today. At Aunt Marion’s home no less! And she is more beautiful than I’d ever dreamed. How could my visions do her such an injustice? She saw me and I swear I saw recognition there. She knew me too. I retrieved the medicine for Aunt Marion. I have no need to go back again. I shouldn’t go back again. If I do I know what it will mean. If I go back it means the end. But, God how I need her. To touch her. To hear her voice. To taste her. The thoughts consume me. No amount of magic can save me now
.~ Alexander 1692
***
We hadn’t had a customer in over an hour. And with the shelves stocked and the entire store sparkling like new there wasn’t much for me to do, so I resorted to flipping through a magazine while I waited for Paige to show up. She’d promised to come keep me company as long as I supplied her with free junk food and my nonjudgmental ears while she gossiped about the other girls at school. A small price to pay to ease my boredom.
The doorbell clanged but I didn’t bother to look up. After the first few hours of shouting hello to everyone that walked through the door I was starting to feel like a Wal-Mart greeter, so now I just remained quiet and waited for them to find me.
I was halfway through an article on Top Ten First Date Disasters when I felt a shock of recognition flood through me. I closed my eyes, ready to try and block the unwelcome emotions of another random customer. But when a flood of nerves twisted my stomach into knots, I stopped. These weren’t my feelings. They weren’t a random customers. I looked up and it was him. The boy from the street with the electric blue eyes and satin black hair. I mindlessly let the magazine slip from my fingertips and fall to the floor with a thud. He unloaded a few items onto the counter and I had to remind myself to keep my mouth secure so that it didn’t drop like one of those cartoon wolf characters. It had been two weeks since I had seen him outside my grandparent’s house but I recognized his face immediately. It wasn’t one that I was likely to ever forget. I’d almost convinced myself that he’d been a hallucination; that he couldn’t have been real. But here he was. Alive, breathing, real, and just as perfect as I remembered.
He fidgeted quietly, waiting for me to ring up his items, his nervousness flaring from him in every direction. He looked up a few times, his icy blue eyes peering up at me under his thick, dark lashes. I smiled and nodded politely as I scanned the items one by one and put them into a brown paper sack. A pack of wintermint gum. A bottle of water. I wiped my sweaty palms across my jeans and slid the bag towards him, struggling for the courage to ask his name. It was useless. I’d never been good at talking to boys. My heart was pounding in my throat and I couldn’t find my voice.
I took a deep breath and finally managed to choke out, “That will be three dollars and eleven cents.”
He slipped his hand into his pocket and handed me a twenty without a word. I wished more than anything that he would say something. Say anything. I handed him his change. His fingertips brushed against mine. A searing heat raced up through my wrist ultimately finding my face. His eyes lingered on mine for an immeasurable moment, his hand outstretched, fingers curling around the money I’d handed him. And I knew it. He felt it too. He looked like he wanted to say something. I could feel the words clawing at his throat. But before they could form on his lips he tore his eyes away from my face and grabbed his bag, then headed out the door in almost a sprint.
“Um…have a good day!” I called after him, but I was pretty sure he didn’t hear. I had to catch my breath as the warm sensation ran through me like it had the last time I’d seen him. I closed my eyes trying to hold onto it.
“Rowan, are you okay?” My heart skipped a beat and my eyes flew open. I grabbed my chest.
“Geez Paige! You scared the crap out of me.”
She giggled as she hopped up onto the counter, opening a pack of twizzlers, folding her long legs underneath her like a crane. “What were you doing? You looked like you were hyperventilating.”
“I guess I kind of was.” I felt silly admitting it. How stupid for somebody I had never even spoken to to have this kind of effect on me.
“Why?” she mumbled through a mouth full of candy.
“Did you see that guy leaving here when you came in?” I dodged her question. “Black hair, blue eyes, real cute.”
She stuck out her bottom lip in a pout. “No, but I wish I had.” She leaned forward trying to look out the door.
“I wonder if he goes to school with us.”
“In case you haven’t noticed Rowan, Ipswich isn’t the biggest place. If you haven’t seen him at school yet, chances are he doesn’t. I’ll bet he’s in college.”
I nodded my head absently. “Yeah, maybe.”
“Rowan? Do you have a crush?”
My cheeks flushed with warmth. “No. Don’t be stupid Paige. I don’t even know his name.” God I wished I were a better liar.
“Rowan and new guy sitting in a tree…” She trailed off in a peal of laughter.
“Seriously?”
“Tyler’s not gonna like this.”
“I don’t like Tyler like that.” I picked my magazine back up so I would have somewhere else to avert my gaze.
“Well that doesn’t change the fact that he likes you. You should give him a break. He’s a nice guy.” She slid the pack of twizzlers over to me. I plucked one out of the package and stared at it.
“I know he is. I just don’t want a boyfriend right now.” I prayed that she would drop it. But of course she didn’t. She was too much like Bevin.
“What’s with you Rowan? You’re a perfectly gorgeous seventeen-year-old girl whose parents are halfway across the country. Explain to me why exactly you wouldn’t want a boyfriend.”
I took a deep breath. I didn’t want to say it out loud. Saying it out loud made it real. But I knew now that it was necessary. If we were really going to be friends I couldn’t hide it forever.
“My Mom died a couple of months ago. That’s why I’m here,” I admitted, immediately regretting it as the pity set into her eyes. I fiddled with the leather bands on my wrists considering spilling it all to her. No, I wasn’t ready for her to see me like that yet.
“Oh my God, Rowan. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because of that.” I poked the twizzler at her accusingly, motioning to her sympathetic stare. “I don’t want to be that girl. I want to forget it. I want to move on. And I don’t want to talk about it.” I slammed my magazine down onto the counter and stared at her, watching the layers of shock dissolve across her face.
“Okay then. We won’t talk about it.”
“Thanks.” I bit my twizzler in half and stared at the door, wishing the mysteriously silent boy would come back in and prove that what I felt before was just a fluke and that I really wasn’t capable of those kinds of feelings anymore. But mainly because I felt stupid. Stupid and embarrassed. He hadn’t even thought enough of me to utter a greeting, and here I was obsessing over the way the mere sight of him made my heart race and my knees go weak.
“So do you think he’ll come back?” she asked, following my gaze.
“I hope so,” I said, feeling a little surprised at how easily the words spilled past my lips and even more surprised at how true they really were.
I had several issues with my new room, besides the obvious; like the fact that it was like three hundred years old and apparently haunted. Still no evidence of the latter though. First of all, the floorboards creaked and groaned if I so much as breathed on them. The rest of the floors in the house had been redone so it left me wondering why th
ey’d left mine this way. Possibly a precautionary measure to keep me from sneaking out at night. Maybe Grams was craftier than I gave her credit for. Second was the smell. It smelled like an attic, or a storage room. It was steadily getting better but the musty stench still lingered. I pushed a window open in hopes that the fresh night air would replace the odor. The window stuck at first but with the second shove it slid open without protest. A gust of briny air immediately spilled into the room. It was so cool against my face I stuck my whole head out into the night. It was such a pleasant contrast to the burning inside of me. You couldn’t hear or see the ocean from here, but sometimes you could smell it. The faintest traces of salt water mingled with the fragrance of the forest that stood just across the street. I leaned out the window to fully immerse myself in the unusual aroma. It felt like it might rain.
I ran my tongue along my bottom lip to taste the moisture that hung heavily in the air. My hair was getting damp and sticking to my forehead. I started to pull back in but stopped when a flash of white caught my eye, flickering between the trees, and then disappeared before I could locate it again. I squeezed my eyes shut. Opened them again. My heart thudded in my chest. My pulse raced. It couldn’t have been him. It was probably just an animal or something. That or my wacked out imagination. And if it was, what the hell was he doing outside my house in the middle of the night? In the rain? I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The sound of my phone buzzing with a Lady Gaga song shattered my already fragmented thoughts. Bevin. The ring tone had been her choice, not mine. I pulled my head back into the room a little too quickly, grazing it on the frame. Rubbing the throbbing spot, holding back a few choice words bubbling in my throat, I scrambled for my phone that was half buried in my blankets and flipped it open. Bevin’s voice was frantic on the other end.
“Rowan? Are you there?”
“Yeah, I’m here. Hey Bevin.” I walked back over to the window. It was drizzling rain now and a light fog had moved in. I peered through the haze trying to find the white color from before but as far as I could tell it was gone.
“Oh my God. It’s been like forever since I’ve talked to you!”
“Bev it’s only been two days.”
“And you promised you’d call every day. Every day Rowan,” she said.
“Are you done?”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry Bevin. Things have just been weird. It’s been hard adjusting. Especially since Grams put me to work at the Briar.” The rain was coming down at a slant now leaving tiny puddles pooling along the window seal. I hurried over to shove the window shut, but the second the glass clicked into place I saw it. I saw him. Standing along the tree line, his eyes fixed on me. I froze, barely hearing Bevin ramble in the background.
“Rowan? Are you even listening to me?”
I didn’t answer right away. Squinting through the curtain of rain at the boy who was squinting back at me, I hovered motionless at the window. He was soaked, his dark hair dripping into his eyes. The same white t-shirt clinging to his body, soaked to the point that it was nearly translucent. He had to know that I was watching too, but he didn’t make an effort to move.
“Bevin. I’ll call you right back I swear!” I flipped the phone shut cutting off her angry voice, then stumbled down the stairs, ignoring the confused looks on my grandparent’s faces, and launched myself out into the rain. I sprinted to the edge of the driveway, tripping and twisting over my own feet, but when I stopped I was alone. He should have been here. Heart pounding, I glanced around searching for the flicker of white among the shadows, but my eyes only found the dark tree line. I had to know who he was. It was beyond curiosity now. It was beyond a schoolgirl crush. The weight of it was crushing me and I had to know why he had been watching me. But more than anything I needed the way he infused my body with peace with just a glance and doused the flaming memories that never seemed to fade. I needed to feel alive. Gram’s worried voice called from behind me.
“Rowan! What are you doing out here? Get out of the rain!” Her feeble shouts sounded faint and distant against the way the rain beat down through the trees. Massive swaying shadows against the grey night sky stared down on me, beckoning me. I had to grind my heels into the street to keep from slipping quietly between the shelter of their limbs.
Taking a deep breath I stumbled forward a few more steps to the same spot he had stood. “Is anybody there?” I called weakly to the swaying trees. “Hello?” I shouted louder, but it was useless. The rustling of the leaves as the rain filtered down between them was the only sound to answer me. I was alone. My mother was still dead. My world was still broken. I still didn’t fit. And no matter how badly I wanted it to be true, no boy would ever be able to fix any of that. No one could. The air felt trapped in my lungs. I was buried in so much I didn’t want to feel. I wanted to curl up into myself and disappear, to swirl away with the rain into the forest floor. The walls inside me were collapsing in on one another. I wasn’t sure that they could ever be repaired. I wanted my Mom. I wanted my dad. I wanted my perfectly annoying little brother Cam. I wanted to go home and curl up in Bevin’s arms and cry until there were no more tears left to cry. I wanted too many things that I couldn’t have. I pushed back my sopping hair and pulled it over one of my shoulders, shivering as the cold on the outside of my body slowly began to match the bitter chill within. I turned to go back into the house unable to breathe. The only thing I could think was at least the rain would mask my tears.
Chapter 5
She came to me. I said the words, whispered the magic into the night, and she came. I can see a sadness in her that breaks my heart. I wanted to hold her and give her comfort. I wanted to wash her pain away with magic. I wanted so badly to stay, to touch her. But I’m a coward. I fled. For fear of persecution. Of death. But most of all, for fear that the instant I touch her I’ll never be able to turn away again.
~ Alexander 1692
***
The next morning I ached. Inside and out. It was a familiar feeling. The way that every part of me from my eyelids to my stomach throbbed from the relentless sobs that eventually put me to sleep. Like so many nights before, I lay on my pillow pretending it was my Mom’s lap, running my fingers through my hair, fooling myself into believing they were hers, and letting the memory of her voice drown out the gut-wrenching sobs that I couldn’t seem to control until finally drifting away. But this morning as I lay there alone, empty, and sore there was no more lying to myself.
After my odd behavior the night before, Grams insisted that I take the day off. I didn’t argue. It was Sunday and the store was only open half a day anyway. When I heard the neighbors zip off in their Honda for morning mass I willed myself to get up and start my day, mechanically trudging through the motions. Hot shower. A bowl of cereal that I didn’t bother to taste. I cleaned my room and made my bed. I tried calling Dad. Home. No answer. Cell. No answer. By the time the second voicemail picked up I was shaking. I probably should have left a message, but I couldn’t force myself to say what I was feeling. I just wanted to hear his voice. And I wanted him to hear mine, and not my mother’s. I swiped the back of my wrist across my eyes and scowled at the tears.
“Jerk,” I muttered and tossed the phone down.
I wrote Bevin a letter by hand instead of sending her an email. She’d get a real kick out of that. By lunch time I found myself wishing that I hadn’t agreed to let Grams take my shift. I needed something to do. The house was empty with the exception of me and my thoughts. It was too quiet and the memories were too loud. I finally decided to call Bevin back. I picked up my phone again and groaned when I saw the eleven missed calls. She was going to be so pissed. It barley rang once before she answered.
“What the hell is going on with you Rowan?”
“Look I’m really sorry about last night. But you have my undivided attention now. I swear,” I said, hoping she’d just let it go.
She was silent for a moment before she asked, “Who is he?”
“Wha
t are you talking about?”
“The guy, Rowan. Who’s the guy that’s got you all screwed up?”
I rolled my eyes even though I knew that she couldn’t see. She knew me to well. “You know there are plenty of other things going on in my life right now that could have me all screwed up.”
“Yeah I know that, but that’s not what this is about. I can tell,” she insisted. “So who is he?”
I paused wondering how much I should tell her and exactly how crazy I would sound.
“I don’t know his name. I’ve never even spoken to him. Isn’t that stupid?”
“Well, that depends. Elaborate.”
“I’ve caught him watching me twice now. First a couple of weeks ago and then again last night when I was on the phone with you. That’s why I let you go. I saw him outside, but when I ran down to talk to him he was gone.”
“So let me get this straight. Some weird guy is stalking you and instead of calling the cops you run down to meet him? He better be a cute stalker.” She laughed.
“It’s not like that. He came into the store yesterday. He wasn’t weird.”
“Wait, I thought you never talked to him?”
“I didn’t. It seems like he wants to talk to me, but he doesn’t for some reason.”
“Rowan honey. Are you all right?” I knew her concern was valid. I knew I sounded crazy. To be obsessing over a guy I had never even spoken too. It didn’t just sound crazy, it was crazy. If I wasn’t careful they were going to confiscate my razor again.
“I’m fine. I guess this is just going to take some time.” I paused, biting down on my lip to hold back the tears. “I miss you Bev.”
“I miss you too.”
After she assured me that I was not crazy and told me about her whirlwind love affair with Landon Briggs, which as expected was already over, I hung up feeling a little better. I hopped up from the bed to toss my phone on the dresser. Stumbled. Twisted. Annnd whack. Pain radiated up through my toe, nerves throbbing all the way to the top of my foot. I glared at the floorboard that had conveniently decided to rise away from the rest of its companions. Stupid floors! At that moment I swore that if Grams didn’t replace these freaking floors then I’d save up and do it myself. I was thinking a nice plush carpet, the kind that was easy on clumsy girls like me. I grabbed my foot and bit my lip to hold back the curse word that was bubbling up through my throat. Nobody was around to hear, but still, sometimes I wondered if Mom was listening. Once the pain in my foot had begun to fade I knelt down to push the board back into place.