by Tara Taylor
“Hey,” he said almost lazily. Then he smirked. “I’m surprised to see you here.”
I shrugged.
“You don’t strike me as the partygoer type.”
“I could say the same about you,” I replied.
He nodded, once. Then he tilted his head and stared at me. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t.
Finally, to break his gaze and the sweltering heat that had invaded me, I pointed to the book snuggled in his sweatshirt. “What are you reading?”
He pulled the paperback from his pouch, and when I saw the cover, I sank my feet in the floorboards and let my arms dangle at my side to maintain a casual look. The blood surged so fast through my veins that I might as well have been on a river raft fighting rapids.
“The Sleeping Prophet,” he said. “It’s about a guy named Edgar Cayce. You ever heard of him?”
I had. Because of my visions, my mom had a million books on different psychics, and we had many books on Edgar Cayce, too many. I knew Cayce was a visionary from the late 1800s who had died sometime in the 1940s, but that’s about all I knew, because I tried not to be interested. My mother liked to tell me that I had what he had, and if I would just accept, blah, blah, blah.
I shook my head. “Nope. Never heard of him.”
“He’s interesting. Fascinating, actually.” He shoved the book in his back pocket. “You want to go outside? Get some air?”
“Sure,” I replied.
I followed John through the maze of bodies, moving steadily behind him, dodging arms, legs, feet, shoulders. Within seconds, we were outside, standing on the back porch. Translucent, silvery-blue light from the full moon lit the porch, and stars winked like gems in a clear ebony sky. A sudden eerie feeling washed over me, almost as if a burglar had crept into my body and stolen my energy. Since I was little, the full moon had had some sort of power over me. It used to stare at me through my bedroom window, and I would hide under my covers to get away from it. I shivered.
“You cold?” John asked.
“Not really,” I replied.
He pulled cigarettes out of his pocket and tapped the pack on the porch railing. Once he had one in his hand, he rolled it around for a few beats before he leaned forward and cupped his hands to the autumn wind that blew around us. The cigarette sparked, and I stared at the tiny red specks. John threw his head back and inhaled, then he blew out a rush of smoke and handed the cigarette to me. I immediately took it and inhaled deeply, my lips touching the exact spot where his had been, tasting his mouth, wondering if this could classify as our first kiss. I let the smoke fill my lungs before I exhaled. When I handed the cigarette back to John, he had his head tilted to the side, and he wore a little smirk on his face, as if he were assessing me somehow, mocking me.
“What?” I asked.
“I didn’t know you smoked.”
I shoved my hands in my back pockets and shifted my stance so my hip jutted out. I didn’t want to tell him I smoked to be part of something, a group perhaps. That as an outsider I needed to belong somewhere. That I practiced in front of a mirror so I could join the smoking crowd outside, and that I used it as a social tool to help my awkwardness.
John put his finger under my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes, his touch sending quivers through my body. Butterflies invaded my throat, flying around as if they wanted to escape but couldn’t.
He touched my hair, running his fingers down its length. When he got to the end of the strand, he rubbed it gently. Then he smiled. Immediately, I stopped shivering, and a rush of warm air spread through my limbs.
“Your eyes are the color of your name.”
I tilted my head so I could feel his hand touch my cheek, unable to speak as he continued to stroke my hair. I couldn’t believe he was touching me. I couldn’t believe he remembered my name.
“Smoking won’t take away your innocence,” he murmured.
The back door flew open, and the moment evaporated. Sarah Sebert stumbled onto the porch. “Indie, I didn’t know you were here,” she slurred.
I stepped back. The cold resurfaced. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I came with Burke.”
Without saying a word to Sarah, John went inside, the back door thudding when it closed. I wanted to follow him, but Sarah grabbed my shoulder. “Is he not the coolest guy you’ve ever seen?” Her wild red hair and freckles glowed in the moonlight.
I didn’t answer.
Then she whispered in my ear. “Come on, let’s go back inside. I’ll get you a drink,” she said. “My big sis got it for me.” Sarah was known as fun with a capital F. She always had booze, and she loved to laugh and dance, and she was nice to everyone. I’d never met anyone who liked to laugh as much as Sarah.
I allowed Sarah to lead me to the far corner of the room, where she picked up a stashed backpack. As I waited for her to retrieve her goods, I scanned the kitchen for John.
“Get a cup,” she whispered.
Pretending to find a cup, any cup, I searched every room for him. But he was nowhere. Had he left? Had I said something to drive him away?
Finally, I headed back to Sarah, my hands shaking. Had I done something to make him leave without saying good-bye? With her back turned to the crowd, Sarah discreetly poured something into the red cup. I listened to the glub, glub, glub.
She handed me the cup, then quickly returned everything to her backpack. She stood and held up her cup. “To the funniest person I know.”
“I’m not funny,” I said.
“Oh my god. Yes, you are. When you slid into class yesterday, singing that Beatles song, I thought I would pee my pants.”
“It wasn’t that funny. And I honestly thought the room was empty. I would have never done it otherwise. I thought only Lacey was in the room.” I kind of liked that Sarah thought I was funny; it made me feel good. Did John think I was funny, too? Probably not. Maybe he didn’t like funny girls. Maybe I wasn’t serious enough for him. Maybe he went for the bad-girl type.
Sarah interrupted my thoughts about John and, slurring her words, said, “We need to get our band going again, if nothing else but for fun. Remember how awesome we were last year?”
I laughed. Our all-girl band had been a blast, and rehearsals were something I’d really looked forward to, even if we weren’t great. “We managed to get one song sounding decent,” I said.
She held up her fist, and I fisted her back. “Let’s do it,” she said. “Let’s play some rock and roll.”
“Yeah, let’s,” I said with true enthusiasm. “What have we got to lose? It was fun.”
I toasted her cup and tried to sound perky when I said, “Cheers.”
“Indie, you’re so great.” She smiled a drunken smile. “And you’re so pretty.”
Sarah suddenly shifted her gaze from me to across the room. “Hey, there’s Burke. I have to talk to him.” As she moved to go around me, she slopped her drink all over my arm.
“Darn,” she said. “Only one way to solve spillage problems.” She lifted her glass and downed her entire drink. After grimacing and shaking her head, she slurred, “Come on, Indie. You do the same.”
“I can’t chug this. It’s full,” I said.
Suddenly I remembered my mission. I was at this party to keep Amber and Burke apart. My heart sank. What kind of friend was I?
Burke was standing extremely close to Amber—too close. I eyed them and immediately noticed her hand discreetly placed behind his back, her fingers hooking his belt like talons holding prey. She wore the same short skirt and T-shirt I’d seen in my vision. Hoop earrings much bigger than mine and high strappy heels finished the outfit. The middle of my forehead started to pulse, making me clammy and hot.
“Indie! Indie!” Sarah started to chant my name.
Within seconds, everyone in the kitchen was chanting, too. The voices saying my name reverberated through my head like bouncing balls. I felt dizzy, sick, as if the room were spinning around me. I didn’t want to do this.
Would the booze lighten my heart?
Had John left because he thought I was too innocent?
I put the cup to my lips and tipped my head back. The liquid burned, my eyes watered, my stomach convulsed, but I drank every drop. Sarah pulled my arm and dragged me to the living room, where the music blared through the walls and ceiling, and the pounding bass pulsed into my feet from the floorboards.
After one song, I said, “I need water.” What I needed was to find Burke and Amber. To make sure they weren’t together.
I weaved my way to the kitchen, bouncing off a few walls on the way. I had never been drunk before, ever. My body just felt so strange and unearthly, like I was cruising on air. Once I was in the kitchen, I didn’t see Burke or Amber.
“Have you seen Burke?” I asked a guy I barely knew. I had trouble forming the words.
“Whoa, girl, you’re hammered.”
I shook my head. The back and forth movement suddenly made my sensitive stomach convulse. Then I did the ultimate. I threw up.
The room started to spin. I grabbed my stomach and threw up again.
“Gross!” I didn’t recognize the voice.
“I’ll take her outside,” said Sarah.
Sarah put her hand on my elbow and guided me through the kitchen, and once again I was on the back porch, only this time without John. She sat me down, and I put my head between my legs to stop the spinning.
“I have to go home,” I mumbled.
“Who’d you come with?”
“Burke.”
“Oh, that’s right. You told me that already.”
“Yeah, Lacey made him pick me up.”
“Okay, I’ll get him.” Sarah left me on the porch by myself, and I lay down on my back and stared up at the sky and the stars and the big full moon. Like always, it just stared back at me as if it were alive or something. So freaky. Minutes clicked by. My stomach didn’t settle and the spinning didn’t stop and the full moon wouldn’t stop laughing at me and nothing about this was funny. I had thrown up on someone. How embarrassing. I wondered who had to clean it up.
Why did John leave? Doesn’t he like me? I wanted to cry.
Where was Sarah? I had to get home. Then Sarah flung open the door and, laughing, stumbled out on the porch.
“I found Burke. He was with Amber. They were up in one of the bedrooms.”
I put my hands to my ears. “Lalala.”
“Stop that,” said Sarah, laughing. She sat down beside me and helped me sit up. I kept my hands over my ears. Just then, the door swung open again, and when I saw the familiar face, I dropped my hands.
“Hey, Indie, you okay?” Burke asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
I tried to stand up and almost fell, but he jumped forward and grabbed me.
“I’m so sorry.” I could hardly talk.
“Hey, no worries. I’ll take you home. I was leaving soon anyway.”
“Business finished,” chortled Sarah. She slapped Burke on the back.
“Can you drive?” I slurred.
“Yeah. I’m okay.”
Burke guided me through the bodies at the party and helped me into his car, giving me a bag just in case I threw up on the way home. I rested my head against the headrest, and my world began spinning again, as if I were caught in one of those revolving doors at a big department store. I wanted this all to go away; I didn’t want to be drunk anymore.
Why did John leave?
We didn’t talk for the entire drive, mostly because I was too nauseous and my tongue wouldn’t work. I had my head tilted back and my eyes closed as I tried to keep from barfing all over the dash of his car.
Why did he go without saying good-bye? Tears loomed under my eyelids.
When Burke pulled into my driveway, I tried to open the car door, but finding the handle became an issue. But Burke hustled around to the passenger-side door. When he opened it for me, he said, “What Sarah said isn’t true.”
I maneuvered my body so I could put my feet on the ground. I couldn’t talk about this now. Burke held my forearm and helped me stand. Then he walked me to the front door, found my key in my purse, and opened the door for me. As I stumbled into the hallway, Brian walked out of the kitchen.
“Whoa,” he said.
“Hi, Bri,” I slurred. Then I crashed into the wall.
He immediately grabbed my arm to keep me upright. “Shh,” he whispered. “Don’t let Mom catch you like this. Keep quiet, and I’ll walk you down the hall.”
“I’m so sorry,” I mumbled.
“Shh.”
“But I really am sorry. John left without saying good-bye to me. Why did he do that?”
“Forget about the guy. Don’t talk, okay? You’ll wake Mom.”
But I kept mumbling about John. We were halfway down the hall when Mom came out of her room in her pajamas.
“Indie,” she said, “what’s wrong?”
“What?” I put my hand on the wall. “Nothing’s wrong.”
“Are you drunk?”
“Nope.”
“She’s okay,” said Brian.
“How many drinks did you have?”
“Onnnne.” I held my pointer finger up in front of my nose, and it instantly turned into two fingers.
“Did you take her to a party?” Mom accused Brian.
“She only had one drink, Mom. She’s a lightweight. What can I say?”
As I crashed toward the wall, Mom grabbed me by the back of my shirt. “I’ll take over from here,” she said as she guided me toward my bedroom. “We will talk about this in the morning.”
“I’m not a kid anymore,” I replied.
We entered my room, and I saw two Jim Morrisons on my wall. I stumbled and grabbed hold of my mom. Then I saw two black cats sitting on my bed and started to laugh. “Hey, Cedar has a twin.” Cedar meowed at me like I was from another planet.
“Let’s get you undressed,” said Mom.
I allowed her to help me, but when I was down to my bra, I started laughing and whipped it off, hitting her in the face. Then I giggled as she put me in my pajamas.
“Indie, this isn’t funny.”
“I think it is. Do you know that kids at school think I’m funny? Me. Indie Russell. Funny.” Then I started singing my dad’s favorite Beach Boys song with my own lyrics. “I wish we all could be Ottawa girls.”
I stopped singing. “Do you think Dad can hear me? He likes the Beach Boys. Not me. They’re old farts.”
“Let’s hope he can’t hear you.” My mom’s voice was stern. “He would not be happy about this. Now, get into bed.”
Once I was in bed and under the covers, my laughter was taken over by bed spins and an incredible heaviness. As if Cedar understood, she curled into the crook of my legs. I mumbled to my mom, “I want John to like me. But I’m so weird.”
“You’re not weird,” she answered.
“But I see things. It’s dumb.”
“That’s just who you are.”
“It soooo sucks.”
“Shh. Indie, go to sleep.” Mom spoke firmly. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
“Sometimes I wish I were a kid again.” I hiccupped. “When I didn’t know something was wrong with me.” I sat up and almost fell off my bed. “Remember when Papa died? Remember how I saw him?”
“Indie. Enough.”
“I was only seven.”
Shaking her head, Mom left the room.
“I still see things!” I yelled after her. Then I flopped back on my bed, and the bed spins started again.
Chapter Four
I woke up to my phone painfully shrilling. It kept ringing and ringing—the two distinct rings that meant it was for me. I yanked my covers off my head and glanced at the clock. Then I groaned. It was only 10:30. The sun streamed through my curtains, dappling my floor. My head throbbed and my stomach … ohhh … it didn’t feel so good. I knocked over a framed photo of me with Sheena, Sasha, and Cedar as I picked up the phone.
“Hello.
” The word scratched my throat.
“I heard you had quite the night last night,” Lacey said, laughing.
“Not funny.”
“Burke said you got totally wasted.”
I groaned, thinking of the high school rumor mill. Thankfully, today was Sunday, and by tomorrow, my sorry story might be forgotten.
“At least you didn’t puke in his car. He said it was funny, since you’re so straightlaced.”
“Did you talk to anyone else?” I asked. Sometimes high school reputations were ruined by just one party.
There was silence on the phone for a few seconds, and I wondered if I had done something really stupid, but I more or less remembered the entire night and most certainly hadn’t blacked out. I waited for an answer, holding my breath.
Finally, Lacey spoke, and her voice was quieter, much more subdued. “I’ve got something serious to ask you.”
“Sure.” I needed water, a huge glass of ice-cold water.
“Did you see Burke and Amber together at the party?”
The question felt like a hard punch in the gut. I had been thinking only of my hangover and my own reputation, not of Lacey and Burke. Some friend I was.
Before I could answer, Lacey continued, “That bitch Adriana phoned me this morning and said she walked into a bedroom and they were making out. Burke called last night and this morning and told me how much he misses and loves me. He didn’t sound as if anything unusual had happened. He just sounded like Burke. I mean, what guy would make that kind of call if he was just with someone else?” She paused. “Indie, did you see anything?”
“No,” I replied. It wasn’t really a lie. I had seen them together at the party, but they weren’t making out.
Lacey sighed in relief. “Thanks. You’re a doll.”
“I was kind of drunk.”
“Yeah, but you probably still would have heard something or seen something. I mean you do have that freaky ability to sense things. Anyway, I’m sure Adriana is lying. She’s just trying to get to Burke because she wants him for herself. And anyway, there is no way he would hook up with Amber. She’s not his type.”