Wanderlove

by Malory, Belle

  Annika broke down again in a choked sob.

  I couldn’t listen to any more of this conversation. A nonsensical flood of relief rushed through to the very core of me. I was disgusted with myself. What was wrong with me? Why was I relieved to hear Annika’s news of her tragic broken engagement?

  The poor girl. I felt awful, and at the same time, I felt comforted. Someone seriously needed to lock me away- and then throw away the key! I had to be the most deranged person in the world.

  What was worse was that even though I was having trouble sleeping before, this time around I was able to fall straight to sleep as soon as my head touched the pillow, with no concerns over the heat.

  SEVEN

  Breakfast was dreadfully awkward. Annika and I sat around the large island in the kitchen while Miriam chopped up an assortment of colorful fruits and scrambled egg whites on the stove. Besides the noises Miriam was making from cooking, the room was quiet.

  Trying to lighten the mood, I teased Miriam. “Don’t you have any bacon?” I asked.

  “Bacon causes wrinkles,” was her surly reply.

  After rolling my eyes, I took a moment to steal a glance at Annika. Surprisingly, she appeared well rested. There were no fatigued circles under her eyes. Her cheeks looked rosy, her hair polished and her clothes wrinkle-free. She held her head high, the same persona of the banal detective I'd come to know. It was almost as if last night never happened.

  Almost.

  She was unusually anxious. She only sipped at her coffee, drumming her fingers against the porcelain mug and not saying a word. I could tell she was ready for breakfast to be over. Suddenly, I really wished Dakota were here. I was positive that Dakota’s carefree nature could ease any tension.

  I cleared my throat, trying my best to break the ice. “So Annika, how’s your case going?”

  My question broke her silent trance, cutting into her thoughts.

  “It’s going well,” she replied after clearing her throat. “I had a dream last night about an important detail, which I believe might lead me to some vital evidence.”

  “Oh?” I tried to keep the obvious amazement out of my voice. “Could you tell me about it? I mean, if you’re allowed to discuss the details?”

  I was in awe over both Annika and Dakota’s abilities. When it came to the special sight other gypsies were blessed with, I was continually astounded. And I supposed I was a little envious, as well. I hated how television depicted most psychics to altering degrees of craziness. Because in real life, they are such amazing and brave souls.

  “Yeah, I mean, sure. I don’t mind.” The tone of her voice demonstrated she was relaxing to some extent. I believe she welcomed the conversation. Annika seemed to truly enjoy her job and liked to talk about it. Not to mention she would probably discuss anything rather than to be left alone to dwell on her broken heart.

  “A few weeks ago, the Frightwell and Black’s Academy was broken into. It was a very strange and curious robbery.”

  “Wait a second,” I interrupted. “Is this the same private school Miriam has enrolled me for the fall semester?”

  Annika nodded. “Yes, I believe so. It’s the same high school Dakota and I attended.”

  I raised an eyebrow at Miriam, who was listening from the stove. “Grams, do you hear what kinds of things are happening at this school to whom you’re giving all your money?”

  Miriam snorted. “Frightwell and Black’s happens to be the best school in this county. You just hush up and appreciate the higher education I have privileged you with. Or would you rather attend a public school? You do realize that academically, Florida is one of the lowest-performing schools in this country, don’t you? You should be thanking your lucky stars. Now you won’t have to learn mathematics by the counting cockroaches along the walls.”

  “That’s very snobbish of you, Grams.”

  “I find it considerate,” she replied.

  “Annika just mentioned that Frightwell was broken into recently.”

  “I heard her, Lo. But thank you for reiterating.”

  I ignored Miriam’s quip and motioned for Annika to continue her story. “She obviously has no real concern for my well-being, as I long as I learn something in the process.”

  Annika chuckled; the look of desolation seemed to be retreating from her eyes. “So anyway,” she continued. “The theft was curious because the thieves had taken some very random things. They stole mostly documents from the main offices at the school. And the students’ records were trifled with. There were papers scattered all over the room. The poor secretary, I thought she was going to choke with horror at when she saw the mess she would have to re-organize.”

  “How bizarre,” I commented. “So what was your dream about?”

  “Well, I dreamed that whoever this thief was dropped something while he or she was there. I believe this clue will lead me to find the identity of the thief. And from the tone of my dream, I’d bet there is more to this than meets the eye.”

  “Where did you see this item being dropped?” I asked curiously.

  Annika shrugged. “That, I am not sure about. I need to go down to the school today and check out the offices. In my dream, I saw something wedged in between a large machine, like a printer or fax machine.”

  “Wow, well, I hope you find it,” I told her sincerely. “Whatever the strange clue may be.”

  She smiled. “Thanks. Me too.”

  “Breakfast is ready,” Miriam informed us and then stockpiled our plates full of fruit and egg whites. “Nutritious and low calorie. Another year I don’t have to retire the swimsuit, eh, Anni?”

  “Of course, Grams. And you still look fantastic in it,” Annika praised. As an aside to me, she said, “She has only recently retired her bikini. She was devastated all last summer about it.”

  “I’m sure she was,” I said, laughing. “Can you tell me where she hides the peanut butter, at least?”

  “In the pantry. Third shelf.”

  “Awesome!”

  Miriam clicked her tongue as I opened the pantry door.

  “I am going to have to take small steps, Grams, before completely jumping on board to your health-crazed life style.”

  “In all seriousness, you probably shouldn’t. You look like you have slimmed down quite a bit in the short time you’ve been here.”

  I looked down at my body. “Really?” I asked excitedly. I lay my hands across my hips. They did seem slightly smaller.

  “Lo, I don’t think I’m doing you any favors. Your curves are a part of your heritage.”

  I groaned at her comment. And she knew exactly why.

  “One day you will appreciate all the attention much more than you do now,” she said.

  I wasn’t ashamed of my body. I loved my curves, especially when I danced with Lina. My curves made me feel feminine. But at the same time, I hated all the attention that came with it. I’d never been viewed as the typical teenager I was supposed to be viewed as, and that was due to the fact that I didn’t look like one.

  If I had any will power, I would simply put the jar back into the pantry and enjoy my egg whites. Instead, I picked up a piece of wheat toast and slathered it with the peanut butter. The creamy deliciousness won out over any reservations I might have had.

  After breakfast, I decided to go shopping with Miriam. I had a few hours to kill before I started my second day of community service. And Miriam liked to shop, no matter the reason.

  The quaint beach town didn’t offer many clothing stores nearby. A few charming boutiques were our only options for the day.

  Oddly enough, my lack of clothing reminded me of the many times my troupe would perform in public. Lina had performed for every type of audience, from diplomats to celebrities. We would often end up staying overnight in exclusive, overpriced hotels. Whenever this was the case, we’d sneak into the hotel room suites and steal any designer clothing or shoes we came across. If we found something we liked and that fit, we would take it. If we found je
welry we adored, we would take it, as well.

  I guess I didn’t realize how awful it was at the time. I only remembered thinking that the wealthy, posh ladies who owned the exorbitant amounts of clothes and bling would hardly notice a few things missing from their wardrobes.

  And now I have no clothes, I thought to myself. It was probably justice in the making. Or karma, maybe.

  For the first hour, it seemed like I would continue to have no clothes because the shops in town were only either selling beachwear or souvenirs. Thankfully, we found a small boutique, which carried more essential clothing for women. While we were there, I bought heaps of bras and underwear, a few sundresses and a pair of denim shorts. Miriam and I searched for more shops that sold regular clothing, but without any luck. I gave up and decided to buy a few tank tops from a touristy store, and then we called it a day.

  “No worries,” Miriam told me. “You’ll be wearing your school uniform most of the time, anyway. I ordered a shipment the same day you enrolled.”

  I wasn’t exactly a fan of uniforms, but I didn’t tell Miriam how I felt. She seemed enthusiastic about it. I suppose it was a gaje thing.

  Admittedly, I enjoyed fashion. I liked the clothing Auntie Zetta used to make for me. Even though she sewed either coins or some sort of jewels into almost everything she made, it didn’t look garish. It always felt as if I were wearing a piece of artwork; the end result was ornate, beautiful and one of a kind.

  It would be difficult conforming to the norm and wearing a uniform every day. Almost as bad as living in the same town every day. But if nothing else, I was grateful to have something to wear.

  On the way back to the car, we passed a stand where the peddler sold her own handcrafted jewelry. Miriam and I purchased from her stand. Miriam bought a pearl necklace with a matching ring. I bought numerous different bracelets, each with intricate weaving and jewels inlayed into the fabric. I thought I might offset my future life in uniforms with pretty bracelets.

  “You’re going to wear them all?” Miriam asked me as I fastened each of my new bracelets to my wrists.

  “I can’t choose only one.”

  Miriam raised a brow at this. “Come along, then. I’m starving. What do you say we grab a bite to eat before you start your community service?”

  “Sounds great.”

  I followed as she headed into another direction. “I know a great place that sells the most amazing spinach salads. . .”

  EIGHT

  I was under the impression that my first few days of school were supposed to be dreadful. I wasn’t exactly sure why. Maybe from movies and television. So it was a nice surprise to realize that it wasn’t as horrible as I was expecting. The whole experience was actually kind of fascinating. There were so many complexities to high school life.

  I especially loved the element of mixing different subjects all in one day. On the road we had an appointed professor, Katzi. But Professor Katzi would only teach one subject at a time. And even though we roamed the planet, the setting always felt the same. There were only so many topics one professor could bring to the table; therefore, learning sometimes became boring and mundane.

  When I found out I would be taking six subjects all in one day- and from six different professors, I was afraid I might be overwhelmed. But now I was starting to think that learning a small portion of a subject each day would help me to retain everything.

  Biology class was my favorite, though I enjoyed music class as well. The only awkward time of the day for me was eating lunch. The patios were filled with students conversing. Everyone seemed to already know each other, had already made friends. And I didn’t know where to go or who to fit in with.

  I was positive there wasn’t a single student who didn’t know who I was. Although it was the beginning of the school year, it was a still small school and news traveled fast. I was labeled as the new girl here. Well, technically I was one of four new students in the junior class, though still the only girl.

  I heard the whispers, saw the stares. The other students gossiped about me left and right, wondering where I had transferred from, why I wore so many bracelets, if my boobs were fake, how much money my family was worth (apparently every student at this school came from a wealthy family), if my butt was fake, how big my house was, why I didn’t drive my own car, if my lips were injected and so on, and so on. I heard most of these topics come up in the girl’s bathroom. I was surprised that everyone was so vocal about their curiosity, but then again, it was a small school.

  I waited until all the girls had left the bathroom before I came out of my stall, causing me to be late for my second period class. I lied to the teacher, telling her I ended up getting lost on the campus. The teacher believed my lie without even questioning me. It was probably because the majority of the gaje became lost on a regular basis. It amazed me how hard it was for some people to find their way around. Even though I pretty much sucked at being a gypsy, I could at least claim an incredible sense of direction. I knew how to quickly scan a map and learn a location within seconds. But most times, I didn’t even need a one. I just seemed to find my own way. I knew it wasn’t much, but since I couldn’t see into the future and I had no recollection of my past lives, I figured at least it’s something.

  When lunchtime came, I ate alone on a cement bench in the courtyard, out of sight from the rest of the students. It felt nice to have a moment of peace in the busy day. I searched around in my satchel until I found my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. I had specifically made this sandwich for myself because I felt like it was the epitome of the American school lunch. Something I had never experienced until now.

  “It’s Lola, right?”

  I turned, facing the bench to the left of me, pushing my lenses closer to my eyes. Surprised, I found a boy I’d heard called “Cam” sitting there. I recognized him because Professor Larson had kicked him out of history class earlier. They had gotten into an argument about one of the World Wars. Cam had informed the professor that he was teaching his class the wrong information. He told the professor (with a completely straight face) that our history books were filled with a bunch of bullshit. It was rather amusing. Many of the students had chuckled in the background of their argument.

  “Yes, that’s me,” I answered him. He was wearing his polo shirt with the collar popped up and his iPod was attached to his ears in the trendy, delinquent fashion I noticed seem to be all the rage among members of this school. It seemed the students here found small ways to stand out against the crowd.

  “Well, it’s nice to finally meet you,” he said. “We happen to be neighbors.”

  “We are?” I asked, surprised. There were only two houses near the area where Miriam lived. One had been abandoned and the other was the. . .

  “Wait a second, you live in that huge mansion in front of the pier?”

  Cam took a bite of his bread roll and nodded. Between bites, he stated, “Yup. That’s me.”

  His personality made somewhat more sense to me now. He walked around like he was superior to everyone and everything. Almost as if he were wasting time going to school when he had better things to do, more important places he needed to be. I supposed it would have been a completely horrible trait for most people, but Cam carried a sort of conviction about him, which slightly redeemed him for his snobbishness.

  “So, Lola, where did you come from? The student body has come up with all kinds of rumors.”

  I rolled my eyes, annoyed with the endless gossip. I was used to most people taking notice of me, though not for much longer than a glance since I never stuck around in one place long enough for anyone to start talking. It was weird, being the central focus of conversation. And I really didn’t like it.

  “Which ones have you heard?” I asked.

  “Oh, you know, the usual. You’re a rich heiress that lost her parents in a tragic accident. There is another one about how you were kicked out of your last school. Oh, and some believe you’re a European model.”

&nbs
p; I could feel him scrutinizing my expression. I suspected he was trying to shock me. “My favorite one is your parents were drug lords who were caught and sentenced to life in prison.”

  Cam smirked at this. I sat up straight and stiffened, widening my eyes until they were rotund saucers. “How do they know?”

  Cam’s expression paled and his jaw dropped. But when he saw the grin tugging at my lips, he broke into laughter and I couldn’t help but laugh, too.

  “Nice one,” he said. “I like you already.”

  “Well, that’s awesome,” I remarked happily. “Because I don’t have any friends yet. Do you mind if I enlist you for the position?”

  “Not at all. We are fellow Roms, are we not?”

  My body went entirely still. I had completely forgotten. He was a Constantin, obviously. He was Gabe’s brother. But Cam didn’t really look much like Gabe, which is probably why it hadn’t even occurred to me that they were brothers- or that Cam was of gypsy descent. Cam’s hair was shaggy and blonde, whereas Gabe’s was dark and thick. The structure of their faces seemed different, but now that I was looking for it, I noticed their eyes bore the same shade of dark gray. The only difference was that Cam seemed to possess a lively sparkle in his. There was no sparkle in Gabe’s eyes. They were just dark and penetrating. . .

  “Lola, are you alright? It’s just that you’re Miriam’s granddaughter and so I assumed that that’s what you are. . .I didn’t know for sure. Are you a Rom? I won’t tell anyone, you know. It’s my secret, too.”

  I shrugged, a little dazed from thoughts of Gabe. “Yeah, I’m a Rom. And it’s no big deal,” I said. “I knew you and your brothers were-- I mean Miriam told me about you and how you are--”

  “Abandoners?” he finished for me.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, sheepishly. Abandoners were frowned upon in gypsy society and were usually never again welcomed amongst the tribes. Strangely enough, I was relieved to hear Cam say it. It meant we had something in common. Though I hadn’t intended to leave the gypsy world behind, there would be many who would consider me a disgrace to have left my father’s troupe.