by Meg Evans
Me: Perfect :-) I’ll see you soon!
With a sigh, I put my phone back in my purse. What I would give to have Dorian, not Matt, on the other side of the phone!
* * *
I meet with Rach the next day at school during our lunch break. We go to the nearby park, which is our favorite place to rest between classes. There are several benches spaced along the graveled path, but we choose to lounge on the grass, under an isolated tree. I watch the clouds lazily drifting in the sky, listening to Rach updating me on the current state of her love life. Our conversation doesn’t resemble a dialogue at all—it’s a ten-minute-long monologue. At times I try to chime in when Rach takes a breath, but she does this so quickly that before I’m able to produce a single sound, she’s talking again.
“…And then he asks me if I feel like going to the movies, and grab a drink after.” She chuckles like a teenage girl. “I obviously said yes.”
“Looks like you have a date with Brandon and I with Matt,” I drawl, more to myself than to her.
“Say what?! With Patterson? Did he respond after all?!” Her mouth opens in an O-shape. “But where did he get your number from? Didn’t you say he never asked you for it?”
“He texted me on Facebook.”
“And you agreed,” she states, as if it’s obvious.
“Yeah…” I grab a random stone and fling it away.
“You don’t seem thrilled, girl.”
We both watch the stone, which bounces off a nearby bench and drops on the ground.
“No, I’m really happy.”
Who am I lying to? Her or myself?
“You’re a terrible liar. I can tell that something’s off.”
“Everything’s fine.”
“Sure it is.” She frowns. “Does it have something to do with that neighbor?”
“Don’t you even mention him, Rach!” This slips from my lips much louder than it was meant to. “I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m just confused.”
“So it is him.” Rach rests against the trunk and stretches out her legs. “Will you ever tell me what’s going on? Why do you even care about him?” She turns her face toward me. “Honestly, I thought at first that he was just a hottie you were into and couldn’t help but watch through the window every day and drool. But your reaction to seeing him with another girl makes me assume that there definitely must be something more on your side. And if so, I don’t get how. He’s never even asked you out or anything, has he?”
“I’m not ready to talk about this,” I say, then wince. I know that Rach is dying to know more. I feel bad about not spilling the beans, but thinking about Dorian is the last thing I want to do on my break. Not after what I saw last night. It’s too painful. “I promise you’ll be the first one to know about everything once I get some clarity. Right now, I have one big mess in my head.”
“Maybe if you opened up a little bit and released some tension, it would help you clarify things in your head? Don’t you think?”
I remain silent.
“You’re impossible,” Rach says, and shakes her head. “I don’t want to be pushy; it’s your business, so if you prefer to bottle it up, that’s your choice. I only hope you’re aware you’ll eventually blow up if you don’t tell someone.” She stops here and lets the subject rest. Instead, she brings up another matter: “Are you up for a double date at the movies? Take Matt and let’s all go! We can relax over a glass of something afterwards.”
“Why not? I’m sure it’s doable.”
“I choose the movie!” Rach says, clapping her hands, happy that she’s come up with such a splendid idea.
“Sure—as an exception, you have the right to choose.” I wink at her. We both know that Rach is always the one who decides what we’re going to watch. Her favorite genres are horror and romantic comedy. The combination doesn’t make any sense to me, but I never complain, because she usually picks good movies.
“Sounds excellent!” she squeals in excitement.
A few weeks back, I would’ve been on cloud nine that I’m going out with Matt. But at the moment I’m indifferent. I try to feel enthusiastic, but all I can summon up is a faint smile.
Will this double date help me forget about Dorian?
* * *
On Friday I need to pay Dorian a visit to pick up my bicycle, or rather its remains. Every fiber in my body has been vibrating in anticipation all day for this moment. When I make it to his front door in the evening, my stomach tightens. I take a deep, ragged breath before knocking on the door. When I finally gain the courage to do so, silence greets me. I press the doorbell twice. Still no answer.
Even though the Bentley is gone, all the lights upstairs are on, which implies that somebody must be inside.
Third time lucky, I think to myself, and ring again. Finally, my waiting pays off: footsteps on the other side reach my ears. Somebody’s running down the stairs. I swallow hard. The door opens before me and Dorian stands in the doorframe. I can’t control a sudden trembling.
“Hi,” I greet him hoarsely, blinking rapidly. “I came to grab my bicycle, remember? I hope I’m not bothering you.”
“Zara—” He hesitates momentarily. “I’m sorry, but can we put it off until tomorrow?”
What did he just say?!
“Tomorrow… Umm… Sure… Tomorrow. Tomorrow works fine,” I stutter. “No—it won’t work, actually, because we’re going to the movies with my friend.” I try to collect my thoughts, standing no further than three feet from him, which effectively influences my ability to think logically. “But didn’t you say that…” I don’t finish. I don’t want to finish. I can’t acknowledge that he forgot.
An awkward silence fills the air.
“Dorian? Who is that?” A female voice comes to my ears; it doesn’t belong to Rita.
It hits me all at once. There’s a girl upstairs waiting for him. I’ve interrupted his romantic tryst with a new girlfriend. A pang of mortification pierces me.
He forgot all about me. I’ve been impatiently waiting for this moment all day, but Dorian was so busy taking care of his ‘new intense adventure’ that it slipped his mind that I was supposed to drop by.
I drop my gaze down to hide my disappointment. “I’ll come over another time,” I mumble. I don’t want to see his face. I need to leave now.
I wheel around, ready to descend the stairs, but before I take the first step, Dorian grabs my wrist and makes me face him.
“I’m sorry.” There’s almost an imperceptible note of regret in his eyes.
I don’t respond. I don’t buy that he’s sorry even for a second. Why would he be? I’m nobody to him.
I free my hand of his grip and trail down the path. Even though I have my back to him, I know his eyes are on me all the way to the gate. I look over my shoulder and see him disappear inside. The door closes. He’s with her again.
For a second I stand still; my eyes narrow. All the excitement that gathered in me throughout the day has drained within moments. I don’t know what to think, what to feel, or what to do.
The thought of going home is out of the question. It’s too close to them. I break into a run. I simply run straight ahead, aimlessly, as far as my legs can carry me. I don’t care about the distance, time, or weather. Everything that’s going on around me has lost its meaning. I wish I could pass out from exhaustion, be unable to catch my breath, maybe even suffocate. I feel defeated and humiliated. How could I have been so naïve as to think he cared about me at all?
Clear your mind, Zara. That’s what you need.
I reach the woods, where I finally jerk to a halt. Facing a wall of trees, I break into uncontrollable tears. I’ve never been anything special to anyone, and I never will be. I’m so ordinary, worthless and incapable. I don’t even want to stop weeping; these tears have a cleansing power. I need to purge these pent-up emotions.
When I eventually run out of tears and regain my willingness to care about what’s going on around me, I realize that
the sun has sunk behind the horizon. Though it’s still light overhead, the sky will soon darken. The woods aren’t the safest place at night. Thirty minutes ago, I was eager to stop feeling anything, but now I don’t exactly feel like being stabbed by someone. I scope the area out, and it dawns on me that I’ve never made it this far on foot before. I need to turn back right now.
With every passing minute my speed increases. I’d like to make it home before it gets pitch black. My feet hurt from the brisk pace, and my forehead becomes beaded with sweat, but I don’t slow down. The silence around me, along with the empty streets, is more than enough encouragement to keep going.
All of a sudden, I clearly sense someone’s presence behind. At first, I think it’s just my brain playing tricks on me, but after a while I’m almost certain that someone’s looking at me. Adrenaline begins flooding my system. I dare to peek over my shoulder, and I see a figure around fifty feet back. How long has he been walking behind me? Icy fear twists around my heart. Am I in danger?
I make a left and turn into the street that is parallel to the one that leads to my home. To my surprise and displeasure, the stranger behind me does the same thing. My feet scream at me to slow down, but my brain is in full survival mode; it doesn’t even consider stopping.
I make another left, praying that my tail will finally leave me alone, but I couldn’t be more wrong: the person keeps a steady pace behind me anyway. A shiver of panic runs through me. I keep glancing behind me. It’s already dark, but as far as I can see, the stranger is a big, strapping man, limping on one leg. I start imagining the worst. I have to lose him.
I start running again; I don’t need to look back to realize that the man has picked up his pace, too. I hear his footsteps moving faster. I have no doubt now that he’s following me, not merely taking the same route by coincidence.
My only hope for rescue is to scream for help, but there’s nobody in sight who might hear me and come to my aid. Everyone is hidden in their houses, probably watching TV shows too loud to hear someone’s voice coming from outside. Never in my life have I thought I’d be so thrilled about reaching the street where I live. I take a quick glance over my shoulder one more time, but the man has vanished without a trace. I gradually slow down, eventually getting back to marching. My heart is still throbbing in my chest. I’m gasping for air. I’m done with running for this month for sure. I spot movement two houses away; someone is trotting down the street toward me. A flicker of apprehension courses through me.
No, not again! I groan to myself, getting ready to break into a run again. But wait—there’s something familiar about this guy. I recognize his way of walking; he’s trudging with no grace at all, taking familiar heavy and firm steps. It’s Charlie. His presence makes me feel safe, though my initial desire to throw myself at him for a hug is restrained by the memory of the last incident; after all, we haven’t exchanged a word since.
“Zara?” He also recognizes me from afar.
“Hi, Charlie.”
“Please, forgive me,” Charlie gabbles as soon as we stand only a couple of feet from each other. “You have no idea how stupid I feel right now. What I did is beyond any justification. I’ve wanted to visit you at least a hundred times, but I never made it to your house. I always gave up halfway there. I acted like a complete idiot… I was totally loaded… I hope that one day…”
I see a scarlet flush creeping into his face. Under usual circumstances, I wouldn’t let it go this quickly, but at the moment I’m so relieved by the fact that the stranger didn’t get me and instead vanished as if by magic that I pocket my pride and say a brief, “It’s okay, we’re good.”
I even invite him in for a cup of tea, which is a big deal given that the last time he came over was during high school. At least I’m not torturing myself with thinking about Dorian. However, it gets to me anyway right before going to bed. There are two questions rolling around in my mind: Who’s the mysterious man who was following me? Is he connected to my neighbors somehow?
I can’t know for certain, but my gut is telling me that there might be a link between them.
CHAPTER twelve
Saturday has flown by. It might help that I woke up only at two in the afternoon after having some sleep aid. In no time, the wall kitchen clock indicates five p.m., which means that in about an hour and a half Matt is coming to pick me up for a movie in Salem.
Shortly after five-thirty, when I’m getting out of the steamy shower wrapped in a towel, somebody knocks on my door.
“Come in.”
“Hi, Zara.” It’s Cynthia—the first time I’ve seen her today. “Do you have a second?”
“I’m leaving in fifty minutes or so, but sure, what’s up?”
“It won’t take too long.” She closes the door and sits on the edge of the bed. “We haven’t been talking lately. I just wanted to make sure that you’re doing okay.”
“Yeah… Same old, same old. Why?” I unwrap the towel that covers my wet hair and brush it out.
“I just feel like you’ve been a bit withdrawn lately. You you’re absent-minded all the time. Is something bothering you? Is there something you’d like to talk about? You know that you can trust me, right?”
“I’m fine, Auntie.” I’m such a pathetic liar. “I mean…” I take a deep breath. “I want to apologize for my behavior that night when you and Maddie came back from Portland. I was such a jerk, not to mention that I didn’t tell you the truth when you asked me about the reason behind it.” I decide to be smart about it. I want to clear up the heavy atmosphere that’s been in the air for a while by now. I’m reluctant to reveal the real reasons for my withdrawal, though. “I didn’t want to tell you the truth so as not to bother you, but you’re right. You’ve been taking care of me in place of my parents and I should’ve included you from the very beginning.” I want to give her something—anything—that will draw her attention away from Dorian. “Well, that evening I met up with Charlie, and he was acting weird. I mean, everything seemed normal at first; we went for a walk, chit-chatted a bit, laughed and so on, but on the way home he started to be… aggressive.”
“What do you mean, aggressive?” She frowns.
“He told me how he’s felt about me for a long time and…” I bite my lips. “He tried to kiss me.”
Her jaw almost drops to the floor. “I beg your pardon?!”
“You heard me.” I flop onto the bed next to her.
Her features contort with anger. “He can’t get away with that! I’ll call his mother and tell her—”
“Cynthia, seriously?” I don’t let her finish. “I’m not ten years old; you don’t have to call the parents of the person I have issues with. I’m an adult, and I can handle the situation.”
My aunt blinks fast a couple of times, bewildered. “It’s not just issues! He tried to harass you!”
“I wouldn’t go so far as to call an attempt to kiss me harassment.”
“That’s exactly what it is!” she cries out in fury. “That kid has crossed all possible boundaries!”
“I knew you’d react like this! This is exactly why I didn’t tell you!”
I feel slightly guilty for using Charlie as my scapegoat, but it’s not exactly like it’s a lie; it did happen, just not when I’ve told her.
“Zara, honey, I apologize for my reaction, but I’m truly disgusted. But… hold on.” She raises her index finger. “Didn’t I see him yesterday in the house? I could swear that you brought him here, didn’t you?” A confused expression is etched on her face.
“Yeah… I met him on the way home. He wanted to apologize, and he even told me that he wasn’t a hundred percent sober when it happened. We’re good again. I won’t hold a grudge against the person who’s been my friend for so many years.”
Now my aunt grasps her head with both hands. “Say what? Not a hundred percent sober?!” She’s lost her cool again. “You mean he met you while under the influence of alcohol? That’s insane!” Her face blazes with resentment. �
�I would’ve never suspected that Charlie would allow himself to behave in such an ill-mannered fashion. He always seemed to be a man of such good manners. Zara,” she looks me deep in the eye, “you should reconsider being friends with him.”
“Don’t exaggerate. You can’t cut somebody off because they did something wrong once, which they regret later.” I push myself off the bed; this conversation has gone on for too long. I need to finish getting ready. “I’ve known Charlie for years, and this is the first time something like this has happened. So, I’m begging you, let’s keep this a secret, just between you and me. I don’t want that one-time thing to color your opinion about Charlie. I’m over it now.” I walk across the room. “He got carried away by his emotions a bit, that’s all.”
“Honey…” She gets up from the bed and comes over to me to give me a big hug. Her warm embrace feels nice. I’ve been craving someone’s closeness, a comforting touch, for quite a while. “Now I understand why you’ve been so quiet recently; you must’ve been very upset.” She strokes my hair like she used to do when I was a child. “I’m not going to lie and say that I’m not disappointed, but if everything’s been clarified and we’re on good terms with Charlie again, you’re right; there’s no reason for you to stop liking him.”
Cynthia pulls away, and I notice her eyes glistening with tears. It’s so easy to move her to tears; she’s very sensitive. “Just… next time don’t hide anything like that from me. I’m here to take care of you instead of your mom. I’ll never replace her, I know, but I would like to give you the support that she would if she was alive. You should come to me every time you have an issue with anything. You know you can confide in me, don’t you?”
“I’m know, but as I said, I wouldn’t want that little incident to influence your opinion of Charlie.”
“I’ll try to treat him as usual. I have a request, though: please, don’t bring him here for at least a couple of weeks. Is that okay?”
“Sure, don’t worry about it.” I’m willing to agree on any terms, so happy am I that I’ve managed to get away with everything. She won’t touch on this subject again. She won’t find out the truth.