“You know I would kill you if you cut your hair, it’s one of your only assets,” Claire joked, replacing the mirror on her locker door and slamming it shut.
“Thanks!” I linked arms with her and bumped her into the lockers with my hip, causing her tote bag to slip from her shoulder. Grace is my middle name after all. Whoops.
“Watch it now, my Amazonian friend.” Claire hoisted the gigantic bag back up onto her shoulder. “We better haul ass or we’re going to be late.”
Mrs. Gates sat on the edge of her desk and wriggled her bifocals down to the end of her nose. She took attendance the old-fashioned way instead of passing around a sign-in sheet like all of the other teachers did. “Adams?”
Avery raised his hand. He sat in the middle of the front row. “Here.”
I zoned out on him, like I always did, waiting for my name to be called at the end of attendance.
His hair was damp, curling every which way at the nape of his neck. I calculated. It’d been, what, two months since his last haircut? That seemed right. His mom probably cut it at home instead of in the salon where she worked.
I scanned the rest of him, perfection as usual. The shirt he had on today looked nice against his tan skin, a blue soccer jersey from a European team. It clung to his shoulders, riding up just a bit when he bent forward to get a pen out of his backpack. Seeing that sliver of skin gave me goose bumps. If for some crazy reason I ever got to see him with his shirt off, I was sure to hyperventilate and die right there on the spot. Yes, Jesus, I had some lust in my heart.
“Already with the staring?” Claire teased. “You know we have four other classes with him, right?”
I stuck my tongue out at her.
“Erickson?”
“Yo!” Jason said.
I tried looking at him for comparison’s sake. He was decent. Blonde spiky hair. Buddy Holly glasses. Played bass in a band called...Rootie Tooty? No. Fresh and Fruity? Maybe the whole thing? I couldn’t remember. He was more Claire’s type. Avery’s best friend and my best friend? That would be cool. I smiled, seeing Claire and Jason as plain as day engaged in a passionate argument about some indie rock band I had never heard of.
“Vargas?”
“Here.” Claire saluted Mrs. Gates.
“Wells?”
“Present.”
Mrs. Gates went to the blackboard and began writing. “Since we’re nearing the ever so wonderful state sanctioned standardized tests, there are thirty extra vocabulary words this week. Apparently, none of you is to be left behind.”
At lunch Claire chose a sundae cone from the freezer case next to the cash register and paid for it. I followed behind her in line, brownbag lunch in one hand, a thermos in the other.
We walked to our table along the back wall of the cafeteria, in closest proximity to the band and A.V. tables, but only two tables removed from where the popular kids sat. Rosedell Junior/Senior High just wasn’t a big enough school for cliques to be completely separate from one another.
Claire peeled the wrapping from around her ice cream off in one clean motion.
I didn’t even bother looking into my lunch bag. “Do you want any of this stuff? I don’t think I can eat another peanut butter sandwich in this lifetime.”
“Um, what’s in the Thermos?”
“Chicken noodle.”
“Nah, I’ll just stick with my sugar and fat fest, thanks though.” Claire looked over my shoulder. “Here comes your sister.”
I crumpled down the top of my lunch bag and pushed it off to the side. Melody and three of her 7th grade friends approached our table, a whirling cloud of giggles, blonde hair, and glittery lavender nail polish.
“Hey Zel, want me to throw your lunch away too?” Melody reached out her hand, a fountain of gold bangles cascading down her arm and clinking at her wrist.
I handed the bag over. “Uh, sure.” I noticed that Melody didn’t have any lunch with her at all. I’m pretty sure her group of “friends” didn’t eat a whole lot. “What’d you do with your Thermos?”
Melody snorted. “Yeah, like I even leave the house with that!” She glanced over her shoulder to her friends, all of them giggling in unison. “Is Mom trying to make us the lamest people in existence?”
This made me smile. “Hey, Mel, it might be too late for me, but really, save yourself now while you can.”
Melody smiled back. “Duh!” She walked away, the other girls following her, and made a big show of chucking my lunch in the trashcan as she left the cafeteria.
“The rainbow and unicorn squad has left the building,” Claire snarked. “I don’t know how you put up with that nonsense.”
“Whatever do you mean?” I asked. I was used to it. That’s how Mel had always been. “Don’t you know that Melody’s going to be the first popular person in our family since...well, since my mom!”
“You’re right, how stupid of me to even ask.”
Principal Landry came into the cafeteria and walked over to the table where Avery was sitting with Jason, a few seniors from the baseball team, and several girls on the student council and in cheerleading.
“Avery, your mom is on the phone asking to speak with you immediately. Would you come to my office please?”
A chorus of “ooh’s” and “what did you do now’s” erupted from the table. A blush like wildfire covered Avery’s face. He shrugged his shoulders as if to say “how do I know?” and followed principal Landry.
“What do you think that was about?” I asked. I felt really cruddy that Avery was so embarrassed. I knew it totally sucked to have everyone staring at you.
Claire leaned towards me and lowered her voice. “Well...I don’t know for certain, but my mom has told me about Avery’s mom getting drunk in one of the bars at the lodge a couple of times. The bartenders have had to call him to come pick her up. I guess it could be that.”
Claire’s parents owned and operated the largest ski resort in the area. It housed a grand lodge, several fine dining restaurants, and three bars. Half the people in Rosedell worked there. She was privy to a lot of the gossip in town because of it.
“But why would she call Avery?” I asked. “He doesn’t even have his license yet. Why wouldn’t Mr. Adams pick her up?”
“Probably because Mr. Adams is a tool.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Huh. That totally sucks for Avery though.” I lowered my voice too. “Y’know, Mr. Adams was at his office window again yesterday when we were driving home. He’s been there every Sunday for the past few months.”
“Ick. Do you think he’s stalking your mom or something?”
“Nah. I mean, they’re friends. She did say that he worked so much because he had an ‘unpleasant home life,’ whatever that means. Maybe she was talking about Avery’s mom?” I opened the Thermos, yup, chicken noodle, just as I suspected. I poured some soup into the lid and drank it.
“Didn’t they used to be friends too? His mom and yours? Wish you knew what happened there.” Claire helped herself to the next cup of soup that I poured.
“Mom never wants to talk about it. All she’ll say is that Avery and I were so cute when we used to play together. Then he went to kindergarten and she wanted to try home-schooling me--”
“Thank God that didn’t last!”
“Seriously? It’s not bad enough that I’m a pastor’s daughter and live in a small town surrounded by mountains?”
Claire nodded. “How would I have ever survived 5th grade without you? The second we moved to Rose-hell I was ready to go back to boarding school.” She reached across the table and took my hands in hers. “Then I saw you on the playground, wearing those high-water orange corduroys and I knew that dorkiness would be our bond.”
“I loved those pants!” I said, slapping her hands away.
I chugged the rest of the soup straight from the Thermos and then screwed the lid back on. Soup dribbled down the sides.
Claire handed me a napkin. “C’mon, I gotta pee and fix my face before French. I’
ll get the lowdown on what happened from my mom tonight. See if Mrs. Adams was even at the lodge.”
Avery nodded at the bartender as he hurried over to the stage in the corner of the lounge. His mom stood stock still in the middle, microphone in hand, belting out “Memories” from CATS. She liked to get loaded and re-live her high school theater geek days. The few other tipsy people in the place cheered her on.
He reached out a hand to her. “Mom, I’m here to pick you up. Let’s go!”
She stopped singing and stumbled forward, bracing herself on her son’s shoulders. “Avery! Honey! What are you doing here?”
“You called me to come get you. Out of school?” He sighed, exasperated. “You called me out of school to come and pick you up. Don’t you remember? It was like, half an hour ago.”
She pulled away from him. “But I’m just getting started, honey! I’m having so much fun! Let me do one more, please? You know my Evita is so good.”
Avery stepped up onto the stage and took the microphone from her hand. An audience member booed him. “No, Mom, c’mon, I gotta get back to school. I have to get Jason’s truck back to him.”
“Oh, all right,” she took a bow and then gestured toward Avery, “my son, ladies and gentlemen!” The same guy booed again.
He put his arm around her waist and helped her down from the stage. On the way out, he grabbed a to-go cup of coffee the bartender handed him. “Thanks again, Tom.”
Out in the parking lot his mom squinted her eyes in the early afternoon sun. “Jesus, it’s bright out here! What time did you say it was again?”
“It’s one in the afternoon, Mom. You called while I was at lunch.”
She giggled. “And how embarrassing was that for you?”
“Pretty freaking embarrassing.”
Avery opened the passenger side door to Jason’s pickup and helped his mom in, buckling her seat belt. “I thought we agreed that you were only going to do this sort of thing after work with co-workers who can legally drive you home.”
Tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, honey! I’m so sorry! I don’t know what I was thinking. What an idiot I am.”
He got into the truck and wiped the tears from his mom’s face with his shirtsleeve. “It’s okay. You’ve just gotta be more careful. If Dad finds out about this...well you know that won’t be good.”
They sat in silence on the way home. His mom dozed off. He pulled into the driveway, getting as close to the garage as he could and hopped out, punching in the code for the door. As soon as it started opening he went around to his mom’s side and helped her out of the truck. He got her into the garage as quickly as possible. He didn’t think any of the neighbors had seen them, this time anyway.
After he got his mom out of her shoes and into bed, and a large glass of water on the bedside table, he jogged out to the truck and headed back to school.
What had Zellie thought of him, leaving school in the middle of the day? He was sure that Claire had filled her in on why his mom needed him. She was wasted in Claire’s parents’ place of business, after all.
To distract himself, Avery thought of Zellie in church the day before, knocking that big hat off of Mrs. Hobby’s head. Hilarious. Classic Zellie. She was always acting like a goof and looking beautiful doing it. He’d tried to get in on the joke with her, smile at her during communion, but she had just made the weirdest face and turned away from him. Then, during the sermon she was leaning forward and it seemed like she was looking his way, but she must have been looking past him.
She was so confusing, more so than any other girl he knew. Not that he had vast experience to draw on or anything. For the most part, he’d just been on group outings to the movies, stuff like that. No other girl made him as nervous or as unsure of himself as Zellie did.
Many things came easily for him. Grades, sports, friendships, and he probably could’ve had his pick of a few really cool girls, but none of them...shook him up like her. When they were younger and he had more of a grip on his feelings, Avery had been able to push down whatever it was about Zellie that mesmerized him. The past couple of years, though, he could not keep his eyes off of her. Could not keep himself from wondering what it would take to make her happy. Could not stop himself from imagining and staring and being so into her. It was probably going to kill him.
After parking Jason’s pickup where it was that morning, Avery jogged into the school, careful to avoid the office. He hadn’t exactly told Mr. Landry that he was going to pick up his mom.
Chapter Three
“Zellie, I was thinking about taking a trip over to Bend on Saturday to get some decorations for your party. Do you want to come with me or do you trust me to pick them out myself?” Dad said, as he scooped a large helping of green beans onto his plate already piled high with fried chicken and rice.
I took the green bean bowl from him and flicked a few onto my plate. “I’d like to go. Can Claire come too?”
“And Melody?” Melody chimed in.
“It would be fine if Claire came with us. Melody, I seem to remember you have math tutoring with Mrs. Kent.”
“Dad! That is so not fair. I’m totally getting a C- in math and do not need help. Please, I really wanna go.”
Dad stabbed a forkful of beans. “Perhaps you could see if Mrs. Kent would move tutoring to Friday evening? Then you could come with us.”
Melody kicked the table leg. “Well, that won’t work either because I’m supposed to go to Britney’s slumber party on Friday. Can’t I skip tutoring just this one time?”
“Not the first time, sweetie,” Mom said.
Melody pushed back from the table and ran into the bedroom that we shared.
Dad chuckled. “That’s about how I thought that would go.”
“Yup,” I answered, grinning.
“Be nice you two. You know she doesn’t like it when you all do things without her.” Mom went to the bedroom to comfort her.
“What do you think Zel, leave around 10? Tell Claire we’ll pick her up.”
“Sounds good. Could I maybe also look for a dress to wear?” I really didn’t want to spend my sweet sixteen birthday wearing hand-me-downs or churchy clothes. If I was ever going to have any chance of getting Avery to talk to me, I had to a least attempt to look hot. “I’m sure I can find something good on sale,” I added.
Dad gave me a wink. “I don’t see why not. You’re only sixteen once!”
After Claire had agreed to go to Bend, the rest of the school week raced by and for once I had something to look forward to on the weekend besides church.
On Friday afternoon I stood out in front of the school waiting for Mom to pick me up and take me to my dentist appointment like I was an 8-year-old. I couldn’t wait to take Driver’s Ed in the summer, driving was going to be, well, freedom.
It was a windy spring day and my hair was blowing all over the place, creating a whirlwind around my head. Annoyed, I grabbed my unruly mass of hair in both hands and slicked it back, rolling a ponytail holder from my wrist onto the loose, messy twist I’d made at the base of my skull.
“You missed a chunk.” Avery reached over and tucked the hair behind my ear.
I froze, paralyzed. Avery had just touched me. I felt myself go tomato red and shiver at the same time. Was I awake? I traced the path of his fingers across my cheekbone, re-tucking the hair behind my ear, stalling. “Oh,” I said brilliantly.
He stood next to me, straddling his bike; like it was something we did everyday. Like he had spoken to me once in the past five years. Like he acknowledged my presence. His beautiful long fingers had a firm grip on the handle bars.
“So that practice test in English totally sucked, don’t you think?” he said.
A hundred images flashed through my mind. His full lips, his hair curling over his ears, the sliver of skin that had given me goose bumps. I had to pull myself together! I had to speak. I had to not go catatonic. “Yeah,” I managed to say. “It completely sucked. Way sucked. Can’t imagine how
much the real test is going to totally...suck.” I completely, way, and totally needed to cease talking for the rest of my miserable existence.
“Totally,” he agreed, giving me a crinkly-eyed smile.
We loitered in awkward silence for what seemed like forever. I finally turned towards him to espouse some more of my wisdom, when a strong gust of wind blew past us, unleashing my crazy hair from my ponytail, and blowing it right into his face. I rushed to smooth it back again, but Avery grasped my wrist.
“It’s cool. It’s not bothering me.” He rubbed his thumb up along the inside my palm. “Your hair is really soft. It’s nice.”
“Oh!” I said brilliantly again. “Uh, thanks. Yours is too.” Shut up. Shut up now. Pray like you’ve never prayed before that an angel seamstress will come down from heaven and sew your mouth shut!
He let go of my wrist, but the warmth from his hand lingered. I resisted putting my arm to my nose, curious if I could smell him on my skin.
He ran his hands through his hair. “So, your party is next week. That’s cool.”
“Yeah,” I said, attempting to be nonchalant. As if. “Claire and I are going to Bend with my dad to get decorations and stuff tomorrow.”
“Sweet, Bend’s cool.”
“Yeah!” I. Am. So. Super. Excited! Holy Christ on a cracker why couldn’t I say one intelligent thing?
“Well, uh, all righty.” He looked at the watch he had hooked to his backpack. “Um, I gotta get over to my dad’s office. Have fun in Bend. I’ll see you in church...and then y’know in school on Monday.”
“Yeah! I’ll see you on Sunday and Monday!” The embarrassment was becoming debilitating.
I watched as he rode away, not sure of what just happened or of anything that I had said. Was I already at the dentist, because I sure as hell felt like I was on laughing gas? This would’ve been another opportune moment to have a cell phone. I had to call Claire as soon as I got home. There was so much to analyze. There was something to analyze!
Glimpse (Zellie Wells Book 1) Page 2