Dream Smashers

by Angela Carlie

  “Are you going to introduce her to your mom?” Caleb smirks. “If you do, you should probably warn Autumn about her.” He laughs. “Remember your last girlfriend? Your mom had her near tears.”

  “Thanks for reminding me.”

  “Hey, that’s what cousins are for.”

  “Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll warn her.” Evan won’t let his mother near Autumn before he explains how picky and sometimes rude his mother can be. He doesn’t want to scare her off. Not this one.

  A thin layer of sweat beads on Evan’s forehead and nips his skin against the air. Two hawks soar in the sky, circling ahead of them, above the open field. They run in silence.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Sunday, October 4th

  I’m primed and ready to spend my entire Sunday planning at the kitchen table, designing my new life. Rainy texted me that she’s being shipped to rehab, which totally sucks, and Grams left for church already, so I have the house to myself to make my fresh start.

  Pen in hand, paper on table, I write:

  NEW LIFE RULES TO LIVE BY TO BECOMING CAREFREE AND SUCCESSFUL

  1. Wear a smile every day.

  No. That’s lame. I don’t want to smile every single day.

  1. Wear a smile every day.

  When I first saw Ms. Lightheart, I don’t think she was smiling. Of course she was all by herself. She seemed like the type of person who would smile whenever people were around though. So, maybe smiling every day is a good rule.

  1. Smile and be pleasant. This will create a feeling of well being. People like others who are pleasant. (I think)

  Carefree people most likely work hard at it. Ms. Lightheart must have worked hard because she has a nice car, a symbol of her hard work.

  2. Work hard in school and in everything I do. This will give me a sense of accomplishment.

  3. Help others in need. See number two.

  4. Eat well balanced meals. This will keep me healthy and my complexion will glow.

  5. Exercise regularly. See number four.

  6. Make new friends. Popular ones. Or just better ones that don’t drink, do drugs or whine and complain. People who do well in school and also want to improve their lives. Or friends that are already carefree and successful.

  7. Read these rules daily. Practice these rules hourly.

  Now, if only I can stick with these rules…

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Monday, October 5th

  I’m a free spirit without a worry in the horizon. A road, smooth as glass, lies before me for miles and miles.

  “Good morning Grams,” I announce in the kitchen. Rule Number One: check.

  Grams sits at the table with her scissors and newspaper sprawled out in front of her. “Clipping coupons this morning?”

  “I didn’t get to them yesterday.” She looks up from her clippings. “Well, well, well. Don’t you look nice.” The expression on her face warrants an explanation, but she asks before I can say anything. “What’s the occasion?”

  “No occasion. I’m trying something new.” I shrug, a little embarrassed. “Aren’t you going to Matt’s this morning?”

  “I’m waiting for you.”

  “Oh, I’m not going. I thought I would have some fruit and oatmeal before going to school early this morning.” Rule Number Four.

  “Come here.” Grams points to the side of her newspaper.

  I step forward. “What?”

  She presses her hand against my forehead. “Nope. You don’t feel warm. Were you smoking that wacky weed with Rainy the other night?”

  “Ha! Very funny.” I walk to the cupboard and pull out the necessities to make oatmeal. “No. I just don’t want to end up like her, or like Mom. I’m being proactive and carefree.”

  “Carefree? Huh. I’d say you’re anything but.” She folds up the newspaper.

  “Well, in order to be carefree, I have to get organized first. Like, a structured plan and stuff.” I place a bowl of oatmeal mixed with water into the microwave. “I’m not sure exactly how to get there, but I dunno, with a few guidelines to live by, I’ll figure it out.”

  “So tell me again why you can’t go to the diner for breakfast. I think I missed that point.”

  “Matt’s doesn’t have healthy food. There’s only, like, fried food and stuff. Besides, the entire place is filled with smoke. You don’t want me to get lung cancer do you? How can I be carefree when I’m worried about getting lung cancer and eating unhealthy food?”

  “Well.” She pauses, in thought. “Okay then.” She collects the coupons scattered on the table and puts them into one pile. “Fine. I’ll just tell the ladies you aren’t feeling well today. But if you get lonely eating all by yourself, you can come on down to Matt’s.”

  “Thanks, but you can tell them that I need to get to school early, because that’s the truth.” Rule number two. “It’s not like I’m avoiding you and your friends or anything. I just want to try this for awhile.”

  Grams stands, walks over to me, and kisses the back of my head. “You silly girl, don’t you worry about hurting their feelings. You go on and have a carefree day.” She looks at me longer than usual as if she wants to say something important, but doesn’t, then turns to walk out of the kitchen. “I’ll see you after school then.”

  “Okay.” I brush the weirdness off and pick a perfect banana from the bunch in the fruit bowl. “Oh, I forgot to tell you that I’ll be helping Evan out with some stuff after school today.”

  Grams steps back into the kitchen. “Is Evan the date from Friday? The one you didn’t want to go on with Rainy?”

  “Yeah. He’s nice.” I peel the banana. “You can meet him if you want.”

  “I’ll be here when you get home. Have a good day, dear.”

  “’Kay. You too.”

  I sit at the table and eat my breakfast. Today’s going to be a strange day. No Rainy. Her parents shipped her to rehab for a few weeks. She’ll get counseling and stuff so that she will be more responsible. Whatever. That’s what they said when they shipped James off to rehab. Except he truly needed it. Rainy doesn’t take any hardcore drugs. It’s not like she’s an addict or anything.

  On the positive side, at least this gives me a fresh start. Without Rainy around maybe I’ll have the courage to meet new people. In order to be carefree, I should have more friends. Today is day one of my new life, a life full of carefree bliss.

  ***

  The first half of the day didn’t go as planned. Not once did I get the courage to talk to anybody. A few steps toward Sandy (a girl I knew in kindergarten who is now too popular for words) and I panicked. I shouldn’t have tried the big fish first. The bottom feeders should be easier to approach.

  So much for Rule Number Six.

  It’s been forever since I’ve been in the cafeteria and when I did go, Rainy was always with me. I stand in the doorway, awkward, with lunch sack in hand, searching for a place. Okay, the popular tables are to the left. I need to avoid those at all costs. Maybe I should try the nerd table. I mean, they’re nerds, right? They like everyone, don’t they?

  Nerd table here I come. I smile (Rule Number One). My cheeks ache already from smiling all morning. They’re in my sight. Confidence, a swing of the hair and a destination at hand. They’ve got to like me—there’s no reason why they shouldn’t. I’m nice and stuff.

  Just make a beeline for the table without looking anywhere else. Concentrate. My ears are hot, my face is hot, my hands are hot and wet. Go away anxiety. Leave town, you’re not wanted here. This is the new me and I’m going to make friends today.

  What if they don’t like me? What if they laugh when I ask to sit? Maybe there is some kind of rules to doing this sort of thing. Are new people allowed to sit wherever they want? I don’t know. But I’m not new so those rules won’t apply anyway. Closer and closer I get without a single idea of what I’m going to say.

  The girl with the glasses makes eye contact with me. Oh no. She’s whispering to the other girl whose name has
left me—Abby! I think she’s in one of my classes, algebra. Now they look at the table, the floor, each other, anything but me. They know my plan. They must.

  I stop in front of the nerd table. Abby, the girl with the glasses and a greasy boy look up at me. Silence. Oh my God. No words come to me. My face is red. I know it is; I can feel my cheeks burning.

  Abby giggles. The boy’s mouth gapes.

  Sweat stings my upper lip. Just say something already.

  “Hi,” I say.

  “Uh, hi,” Abby says. Her nose crinkles. “Is there something wrong with your mouth? It’s frozen in a crazy smile.”

  Oh gosh. I pivot and walk away, not looking back for a second.

  “That was weird,” Glasses-girl whispers before I bolt from the cafeteria.

  Oh gosh, oh damn, oh fuck. What a disaster. It’s not like I can just waltz back in there. I can stand in the hallway for a minute though. Take a deep breath, calm down. I’m supposed to be carefree. Who cares what those nerds think? Is that a rule?

  Who am I kidding?

  My footsteps echo through the empty locker bays as I pass them down the hall to the doors at the end. No destination in mind, just an exit to the outside world where the air will set me free of my bindings. My stomach grumbles. Lucky for me I have a healthy lunch ready to be devoured. It consists of five carrot sticks, two pieces of broccoli, a peach yogurt and a Diet Dr. Pepper. Not really that lucky. A cheeseburger and fries sounds more my style.

  On bike, the Burgerville down the street is only five minutes away. This will help me feel better. Who can deny a Burgerville cheeseburger with extra spread? Maybe I’ll even order a double cheeseburger. And the fries are to die for.

  But that’s totally against rule number, eh, two. No, I mean three. What number is it? I reach into my back pack to pull out my rules list. Rule Number Four: eat well balanced meals.

  You know, these rules are a little irritating and it’s still the first day.

  I get on my bike, pedal off toward Burgerville, and remember Rule Number Five. Exercise Regularly. Nice. At least I got one right today.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “May I help you?” asks the girl behind the counter with tattooed arms and flesh tunnels in her ears.

  “Yeah,” a pretty red-headed girl says, “can I get a double cheeseburger in a basket with a Coke?”

  When the red-head finishes her order and receives her basket and soda, she sits down next to me on a bar stool in the dining room, turns to me and says, “Hey.”

  That’s when I recognize her. “Hi,” I say, a little unsure I should be saying anything to the enemy. The girl who turned James into a tweaker, according to Rainy.

  “Don’t you just love Burgerville’s burgers?” Angelica twirls copper curls around her finger.

  “Yeah.” They truly are the best. I’d eat here every day if I had the cash.

  Even though Rainy will kill me, I attempt to follow Rule Number One—smile—but the ache reminds me how retarded my rules are, so I nix the smile for a more neutral facial expression.

  James, Rainy’s older brother, walks through the door. I haven’t seen him in months and he’s hotter than ever. His face is fuller and his body has more mass. He no longer looks like the tweaker as I remember him. Rehab must have done him good. He pushes his shaggy brown hair out of his hazel eyes before stepping behind Angelica Cox and nuzzling his face into the soft curls along her neck. She turns to catch his lips with her own and then they begin sucking faces right in front of me. James’ tongue is practically down her throat within two seconds.

  I swivel the bar stool away from the vacuums and concentrate on scooting down to the next stool without being noticed. Slurping and wet skin smacking noises ignite my legs to get away just as a guy from nowhere sits on the other side of me. I’m trapped.

  I have mixed emotions about this predicament. The disgusting display of PG-13 sitting right next to me gives me the heebie-jeebies and could possibly cause me to barf my cheeseburger all over the counter. This could also be an opportunity to use my new friend making skills by approaching the guy who sat next to me with conversation. He’s not very attractive, and a total stranger, but these characteristics could be beneficial because they will make my failure less painful. The negative of this situation is not only the failure part but also the fact that it most likely will happen in front of Angelica and James. Knowing my luck, their fishy-lips will cease just prior to my total humiliation. Not that I care about what Angelica thinks, but James on the other hand, has always been my best friend’s hot older brother. Of course I care what he thinks. That’s why I’ve never really had the nerve to have an actual conversation with him. That and he don’t talk much.

  “Hey, Autumn,” James says with a deep voice, saving me from my dumb idea to follow Rule Number Six.

  I turn the bar stool around to face the two love birds again. “Hi.”

  Angelica crosses her pale, smooth legs and tugs her too-short skirt down so it at least covers half her thighs. She pulls a small mirror from her purse, wipes her lips and fluffs her hair as if kissing messed it up.

  “Thanks for ratting out Rainy.” He smiles and then laughs under his breath. “That didn’t sound right. I mean, thanks for saving her from Ace. When I see him again I’m gonna kick the crap out of him. He’s a real ass-head.”

  “You can say that again.” Angelica glides cherry lipstick over her full lips and then pries her emerald eyes away from the mirror to look at me. “What’s your name again?”

  “Autumn Winters.”

  “Are you serious?”

  I nod.

  She grins. “Ha! That’s cool.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not the full of it. My middle name is Spring.” I roll my eyes.

  “Was your mom high or something? That’s crazy cool!”

  Probably. “My mom loves those seasons I guess. I’m told she hates summer.” Umm, I have no idea why I’m being nice to her.

  “That’s real cool. I just have a simple lame name. I’m Angelica Cox.” She holds her hand out for me to shake. “Why haven’t I met you before?”

  I hesitate before returning the official-like handshake. “I know who you are. We’ve gone to the same schools since, like, elementary school.”

  Angelica shrugs and goes back to admiring herself in the mirror.

  James grins or maybe it’s a smirk. I don’t think I’ve ever been around him when he’s smiling so I can’t tell if it’s real or not.

  I grab the bottle of ketchup and squeeze it all over my fries, turning them into a pile of bloody fingers. “So, James. You know Ace?”

  James reaches over and steals a few fries. How rude. “Yeah. We hang with the same people.” He stuffs them in his mouth. “You do realize you just met a new friend, don’t you?” A crazy grin stretches his face so that ketchup stained teeth taunt me.

  “Who?” I ask.

  Angelica waves. “Uh, hello.” She bats her eyelashes.

  “It’s about time,” James says. “You can’t have only one friend your entire life.” He grabs Angelica’s untouched cheeseburger and chomps half of it in one bite. Like sister like brother. “I love my sister and all, but you’re gonna need someone to hang out with until she gets back.”

  “So, uh, have you talked to Rainy?” I ask. “She isn’t returning my texts.”

  “They took her phone away. Don’t worry. She’ll be back quicker than you think.” He winks at me and stuffs the remainder of the burger in his mouth.

  Angelica seems cool enough. Nicer than her reputation led me to believe and not as evil as Rainy always said. He’s right, though. I haven’t met a new friend since I met Rainy forever ago.

  ***

  Our meeting was just one of those things that happened. On the first day of kindergarten Gramps stood next to me at the corner, waiting for the bus. He held my lunch box and backpack for me until the bus squeaked and then psshed to a stop. It seemed like a giant banana until the doors opened, and then it seemed like
a jungle. All kinds of noise escaped from those opened doors, none of it sounding the least bit safe. Screeches, giddy laughter, yelling, crying, sneezing, coughing, all struck me as terrifying and crazy.

  Gramps nudged me toward the gaping mouth of the bus. I tried to stay brave while he threaded my arms through the backpack straps and handed me my lunch box. “Chin up, kiddo. You’re going to meet some of the best friends of your life on this bus.” He winked at me, giving me superhero strength.

  I climbed up the stairs, turning at the top to wave at him before the doors slammed shut. I found a seat next to a window and held the fire behind my eyes and down my throat from escaping. The bus moved forward.

  Two houses down, a girl my age with a sprinkler of hair plopped on top of her head, scurried from a house. Her arms flapped in the air, signaling the bus to stop.

  Air somehow forced itself over my vocal chords and out my mouth. “Stop!”

  The driver jerked the bus to a stop and opened the doors for the girl.

  The girl, out of breath, slapped her body down next to me. “That was close!” She opened her lunch box, the very same lunch box that I held on my lap—a pink plastic Barbie box. Her box didn’t hold items of nourishment though. Instead it held glittery lip-balms of every flavor imaginable. Grams never had the extra money to buy me lip balms when I asked each week at the grocery store. And the girl had an entire lunch box full. We’ve been friends forever since that day.

  ***

  “You can call me Angel for short,” Angelica says and pops a piece of pink gum into her mouth.

  “You want to hang out sometime?” I ask before thinking. It seems the natural thing to ask. After all, she is pretty nice and talkative and stuff.