Evelyn nodded and handed her folder over. Miss Kline took it and flipped through the notes. She stopped at the paper with Thatcher’s equation on it. She scanned it for a second then briefly glanced up at Evelyn. She flipped over the paper and her eyes narrowed on Evelyn’s sketch. Evelyn could see her mind spinning, but without looking up, Miss Kline closed the folder abruptly and handed it back to Evelyn.
“You may go now.”
Stunned, Evelyn wasted no time heading to her next class. After a not so epic game of dodgeball in gym, an overly long history lesson of Hannibal’s crossing of the Alps, a lonely lunch, and an outdated film detailing cellular mitosis, the last bell of the school day finally rang.
Evelyn joined the horde of black skirts and cardigan sweaters as they jammed the hallways. As she maneuvered her way through the mass of chattering mouths and lipstick, it seemed everyone had someone to talk to but her. She told herself earlier that she would try to make new friends, but she didn’t know where to begin.
Do I just hold out my hand and say ‘Hi, I’m the tall ginger that caused Miss Kline to make you solve a nearly unsolvable math problem without using a calculator. I know how much you love math.’
Shaking her head, she wedged her way through the crowd. When she was a few feet away from the locker, she ran almost face first into another student. The student kept her head down and hurried by her.
That was rude.
Finally, she reached her locker. She put in the combination and just like always it didn’t unlock. And just like always she hit it with her fist until it finally did. She opened it, unzipped her bag, tossed in her folder, zipped it back up and pulled it off the hook. When she did so, she noticed something strange attached to the back of her locker just below the hook. It was a small white envelope. With an odd feeling of curiosity, she looked around suspiciously then opened the envelope. She unfolded the letter inside and read to herself.
“My Dearest Evelyn,
You are the first of your kind and you will change the world.”
~ N. L.”
She stared at the letter in disbelief. “What?”
Chapter Three
She read the note over and over again until she was one of the last ones standing in the hallway. Finally, she told herself that it must be a joke. But, who would play a joke on her? And who had access to her locker? She got a sick feeling in her stomach. She slammed her locker shut and hurried out of the school.
She couldn’t take her mind off the letter the entire walk home despite the sinking feeling that she was being followed. She sped up to a brisk walk and never went more than a few seconds without looking over her shoulder.
Finally, she made it to her apartment building and rushed to the elevator. When the doors opened, she threw herself inside and pressed the button for the 5th floor repeatedly until the doors closed.
She didn’t get a sense of relief until she was safely inside her living room. She locked the door behind her and took a minute to catch her breath. Her mother was sitting on the couch, her fingers curled around a glass of red wine, watching the UNN’s afternoon broadcast on the TV.
Evelyn was happy to see her mother, since it meant that she wasn’t alone in the apartment, still she didn’t say a word to her mother as she dashed up the stairs to her room. Evelyn shut the door behind her and threw herself onto her bed. Like she was a little kid, she wrapped herself in her covers.
I’m the first of my kind…what does that mean? I know I standout, but I doubt I’m the first tall ginger to ever grace planet earth. And how will I change the world? How can I? How can anyone? She rolled over onto her back and took hold of the locket her father had given her. She opened it and held it out in front of her. Staring at her much younger, carefree self with her smiling parents made her feel better and she drifted off to sleep.
She awoke suddenly in a cold sweat to a knock at the door.
“Evelyn, its dinner time.”
Her mother coming to get her for dinner meant one thing – that her father was working over and would be home late.
Evelyn’s heart was racing. She had been dreaming of him again.
She took a few seconds to allow her beating heart to calm down before answering, “I’ll be down in a second.”
“I made your favorite, spaghetti.”
Evelyn rolled her eyes. She didn’t even like spaghetti. But at least her mother was trying. That was a step up from the morning. Evelyn closed the locket and tucked it back under her blouse.
She went downstairs and found her mother standing over the stove, stirring a pot of red spaghetti sauce. Evelyn could smell the alcohol despite the overpowering aroma of tomatoes and garlic. Evelyn took a seat at the table. There was an awkward silence before her mother finally broke it.
“How was school?”
Evelyn instantly thought of her math class and Miss Kline and then the mysterious note. Her day was anything but fine.
She lied, “Fine. It was fine.”
Her mother smiled. “Good.”
She retrieved two plates from the cupboard and set them on the counter.
“How are things going since Laura left?”
Evelyn sighed, “Its Lana, mother. Her name is Lana.”
“Oh…” Her mother dropped a large helping of angel hair spaghetti unto each plate. “Well, you didn’t answer my question.”
“Its fine, mother,” Evelyn responded tersely. “Just peachy.”
Mrs. Smoak didn’t catch her daughter’s sarcasm. “That’s good.” She ladled a copious amount of sauce on top of the spaghetti on each plate. “I was starting to worry that you weren’t making friends.”
Despite her mother’s cluelessness, Evelyn began to thaw toward her. Could it be that the alcohol was actually making her a better mother?
Her mother set down one plate in front of Evelyn and then took a seat across from her. The defreeze came to an end because her mother’s attention returned to the window and the traffic passing by. Her eyes narrowed on something down below and for a moment Evelyn thought her mother’s face registered fear. Evelyn looked, but didn’t see anything unusual. Cars lining the streets, joggers and mothers with strollers. She lived on a busy street and it was bustling. Her mother continued her vigilant watch of the streets below and didn’t say a word to Evelyn.
Evelyn ate half of her plate of food and reclined back in the seat. Finally, she couldn’t take it anymore.
She crossed her arms and asked with pleading eyes, “Mom, do you even know what today is?”
Her mother turned slowly from the window. “Yes, dear.”
Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat and she leaned forward. “You do?”
“Off course,” her mother picked up her glass of wine and took a long sip. “It’s Victor’s Day.”
Evelyn shook her head as tears filled her eyes. She stood to her feet. “I can’t believe this.”
With those words, she bolted out of the room and up the stairs and her mother made no attempt to stop her. Evelyn slammed the door behind her and threw herself onto her bed, face down into her pillows.
Eventually, she reached over toward her nightstand and turned on her radio, hoping to hear something she could relate to. When she heard the DJ wishing everyone a happy Victor’s Day, her blood began to boil. She rolled over and grabbed the radio with both hands and squeezed it. Inexplicably, the radio crumbled into pieces in her hands as if it was a cracker. She stared at the broken radio in her hands and the words from the letter floated to the surface of her mind.
You are the first of your kind and you will change the world…
She dropped the broken radio in disgust and fell to a seated position on the bed. She suddenly felt terrified and she wasn’t sure why. She looked at her hands, turning them over as if they were brand new, but they looked the same as always, thin and pale. She eventually fell backward on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Her mind was spinning. What am I?
She pondered that question for a very long time, until it w
as dark outside. At about 9:30 PM, she heard the front door shut downstairs. She heard her Dad call for her mother. Evelyn remembered the hug she owed him and hurried to the door, eager to greet him. She had her hand on the knob and was about to turn it when she heard her mother’s voice. She paused to listen.
“John, we need to talk,” her mother said, sounding like she’d sobered up.
“I know I’m late Helen, do you think that it is too late to do her cake?” Evelyn’s father responded.
Evelyn’s mother’s tone was flat and serious. “About Evelyn.”
Her father sighed, “I know what this is about, Helen, and we agreed already.”
“I know what we agreed to, but—”
“—It’s settled already.”
“Damn it, John!” Her mother raised her voice for the first time Evelyn could remember in a long time. “She needs to know.”
Evelyn’s father was firm. “We agreed we wouldn’t tell her.”
“They will be coming for her soon.”
Finally her father broke. “You think I don’t know that, Helen? I’ve been thinking about that day nonstop since we found out.”
“What are we going to do?”
There was a bit of silence. Evelyn could picture her father, pacing the floor, palms on his crinkled forehead, racking his mind.
“Today,” he said finally and with a bit of sadness, “we celebrate our daughter’s birthday.”
Evelyn’s mother spoke gravely, “She needs to know, John.”
“Not today.” He answered simply.
There was silence downstairs. Evelyn sat with her back against the door, eyes wide open. What do I need to know? She was overcome with a sense of terrible dread that made it her voice quiver, “Who’s coming for me?”
More questions to go along with the rest. She felt as if her room was going to collapse in on her. She would have to ask her father. When she heard his heavy footsteps coming up the stairs, she rushed to her bed and wrapped herself up in the covers, pretending to be asleep. She heard the door knob turn and the door open.
“Evelyn, are you awake?” whispered her father.
Evelyn rolled over to face him. She rubbed her eyes. Her father’s top- heavy form was standing in the doorway.
“Dad,” she said.
He smiled easily. “Do you mind if I turn the light on?”
She shook her head and he flipped the switch. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she saw her father’s worn face, too weathered for his years. He was still in his usual work attire – white button up shirt, black tie – but, but his collar was unbuttoned, his tie loosened, and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbows. He was balancing a round cake in one hand, and two plates in the other.
He carefully approached the bed.
“Sorry, I’m late Bear Cub, it’s that monorail…”
“I know, Dad,” she offered. “You don’t have to explain.”
He stepped on a piece of the broken radio and glanced down. “Okay?...You know you can just turn it off if it plays a song you don’t like.”
“I know, Dad.”
“Just saying.” He set the cake and plates on her nightstand and took a seat on the bed beside her. “So, the big 1-7. Do you feel any different?”
“Actually—”
He interrupted her. “Wait!” He pointed to her cheek. “Is that a wrinkle?”
He pinched a few strands of her hair. “And gray hair?”
He grabbed her with both arms and began to shake her playfully. “Oh no! You’ve aged terribly.”
Evelyn laughed and for a moment she forgot about all the questions. He had that effect on her. Eventually their laughter eased to a stop.
He ran the back of his hand through her soft red hair. “I’m just playing. You look more beautiful than ever.”
“You’re supposed to say that.”
He was genuine. “I’d say it anyway, Bear Cub.”
She blushed. “Thanks, Dad.”
He smiled his warm smile, then rubbed his belly. “I’m starving. Let’s celebrate.”
He reached over and sliced off two pieces of cake and placed them on plates. He handed Evelyn one of the plates and a fork. “To Victor’s Day—”
Evelyn punched him on the arm and he flinched.
“Just kidding,” he stabbed a piece of cake with his fork and raised it up. “To my beautiful daughter on her seventeenth birthday.”
They each took a bite of the cake in unison. It was double chocolate, her favorite. Evelyn spoke with a mouthful. “Hmm. It’s delicious, Dad.”
“Thanks, I slaved for hours over a hot oven baking it.”
She flashed him a skeptical look.
He lifted his hands has if he was surrendering. “Alright. Alright. I got it from Nelson’s Bakery down the road. How did you know? Did you have one of those government drones follow me?”
“Yes. Haven’t you heard?” She puffed her chest out in a military posture. “I was appointed the new First General.”
“Great,” he said sarcastically, “now the Senate is going to be filled with boys.”
“Funny, Dad.” She responded quickly. “But you know that once a Senator is chosen, that it is for life.”
A sly look appeared on his face as he whispered, “As First General, you have the power to ‘remove them‘ so to speak.”
He was making a joke, but this joke was based in truth. There had been ‘unfortunate accidents’ and ‘surprise illnesses’ that abruptly ended the careers of quite a few Senators under the current First General Octavian Thatcher. It was a sobering reality.
When they both finished their cake, he glanced at the locket adorning her neck. “I see you found your present.”
“Oh yeah!” She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly. “Thanks Dad. I love it.”
“You’re welcome, Bear Cub,” he said as he hugged her back. She pulled away and examined the locket for the hundredth time. “Do you remember when this picture was taken?” he asked.
“Sometime around my third birthday.”
“Exactly.” He sounded surprised. “You are sharp. You’re going to make a man very lucky someday.”
She frowned. “Dad, I go to an all-girls school and the guys I do know don’t really seem that interested.”
“What about that boy you are always drawing?”
She was flushed with embarrassment. He wasn’t supposed to know that. “Umm.”
He didn’t even give Evelyn a chance to deny it.
He wrapped his arm around her and said, “You’re a kind, smart, beautiful young woman, there isn’t a young man out there good enough for you, in my opinion. But, whatever happens, Bear Cub, you will always have me.”
“Dad,” Evelyn’s voice was quivering, “Is there something you need to tell me?”
Suddenly his eyes became glossy with sadness. He reached over and closed the locket.
“Evelyn,” he said gravely, “I want you to do me a favor. I want you to wear this locket at all times. Will you do that?” The sadness in his eyes and his serious tone put her on the verge of tears.
She nodded.
He forced a smile. “It’s getting late and you have school in the morning.” He leaned over and kissed her gently on the forehead. “Good night, Bear Cub.”
He grabbed the rest of the cake and the dishes and disappeared downstairs.
As her father left, Evelyn thought about all the questions that needed answers, but she knew if her father had the answers, they were too painful for him to tell. She lay back in bed and twirled the locket in her fingers. If she couldn’t get answers out of her father, she would have to try another source. She had to find out who broke into her locker, she had to find out who left the note. Finding the source wouldn’t be easy, but she had an idea how she just might just pull it off.
Chapter Four
I can’t believe I’m going to do this Evelyn poured the brownish Ipecac syrup into a small, plastic bottle. Just the smell of it made her gag, so
she wasn’t looking forward to drinking it, and she definitely was not looking forward to what was going to follow. Come to think of it, she remembered only throwing up once in her life. She rarely got sick, rarely had a cough or head cold and she considered herself lucky.
But the time she woke up in the middle of the night with an overwhelming urge to vomit, turned into one of the most terrible experiences of her life. She vividly remembered the spinning feeling and the anxious churn of her stomach as it couldn’t quite decide whether to hold on to or expel its contents. And finally, when it did come, she’d felt like she was dying and slunk onto the bathroom floor exhausted, with the horrid taste of stomach acid filling her mouth.
With that memory fresh in her mind she screwed the lid onto the small plastic bottle and slipped it into the pocket of her sweater. Her mother was at the kitchen table, nursing a hangover, taking long slow sips of her coffee. If she saw what Evelyn was doing, she made no mention of it. Evelyn placed the oil back in the cupboard and exited the kitchen. She grabbed her bag off the couch and headed off to school. When Evelyn exited the front doors of the apartment complex, she looked back at her apartment’s kitchen window. Her mother’s aged, but beautiful face was watching her through the glass. Evelyn didn’t wave and neither did her mother.
It was a lonely walk to school now that Lana had moved. As she approached the corner of Lincoln and Cherry, she thought of her former best friend and half-expected to see her leaning against the utility pole, waiting to give Evelyn some attitude for being late. She wasn’t of course.
People say that opposites attract, well it was true for Evelyn and Lana. Lana was slightly shorter than average with ebony skin and short dark hair. She was clever, confident and outgoing. She was the popular girl who wasn’t ‘popular,’ well liked by her fellow students and teachers alike. She and Evelyn had been friends since the first day of kindergarten. It was a little corny, but they even had matching gold friendship bracelets inscribed with their initials.
Evelyn paused at the corner and felt the empty spot on her left wrist where the bracelet used to be. She sighed as the bitter sting of Lana’s absence struck her again and continued on with her lonely walk to school.
Ill-Fated (Ill-Fated Series Book 1) Page 2