The Heir

by Eshbaugh Kayla

  “EMMA, I HOPE YOU WILL make more friends this year.”

  “Mom, I have Ryker. Why do I need anyone else?” I asked as I combed through my hair; it was wet from my early morning shower. I sat on the edge of my bed, and she sat behind me. She took the brush and started combing my hair for me, humming a melody that calmed me. She hadn’t often combed my hair since I was young, but I had always enjoyed the feeling of her combing through it. She always had the scent of vanilla and freshly picked roses. I could almost smell her as I pictured her.

  “Emma, I just want you to enjoy your teenage years. Have some fun. I am afraid you are not at all—well, interested in the exciting things that come with being your age. I love you, and I love who you are, but try and have fun this year and make new friends. Don’t grow up too fast; life is too short. Make friends that will last for a lifetime because friendships are very important.”

  “I tried that with Karen, mom, and it was a disaster. Seriously, I am fine with Ryker. I really don’t need a million friends. Did you have a ton of friends in high school or something?”

  “No, my education was a bit different.” She paused in her brushing and cleared her throat. “I just want you to be happy—that is all.”

  “I am happy; I have you, dad, Ryker, and Mary. What more could I want?” My memory of her seemed to engulf me, and as I remembered her kiss on the top of my head, it felt, oh, too real. I remembered watching her walk to the door and smiled at me before she left the room. I wondered what she would have said about Shad. Would she be happy that I was showing interest in someone other than Ryker? Could I have confided in her?

  THE MEMORY LEFT ME almost as quickly as it came. It felt so real. I sat on the edge of my bed and wiped at my face where a tear fell down my cheek. I wasn’t really sad. I was happier, actually, because I had stumbled upon such a happy memory of my mother. I really missed her. I took a few deep breaths, trying to pull myself together, yet again, and get ready for school.

  I stared at my closet. I had asked Mary to take me to the mall the previous week. I was determined, like I said, to not be that sad, pathetic girl who lost her family. It hurt worse to have people feel sorry for me, so I decided that I would take extra care to look my best. The end of the previous year, I was such a disaster. I looked worse than the aftermath of a tornado. Mary thought I had a brilliant idea, and she enjoyed playing dress up, as she called it. I called it operation make-everyone-think-I-am-fine. I took her fashion advice because she always looked amazing. I pulled out a pair of shorts and a black, flowy top. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I decided that it was a little too gloomy for the first day of operation make-everyone-think-I-am-fine. I looked through my clothes and saw a brightly colored, floral shirt. The shirt was made up of orange and yellow flowers with green leaves on a white background. I slipped it on; it felt soft and feminine. I pulled a thin silver chain over my head with a leaf pendant at the end which rested on my chest. I walked into the bathroom and washed my face, applied a little makeup, mainly mascara, then worked on my hair. I had naturally wavy hair, or beach waves, as Mary admiringly called the unruly locks. I showered the night before and let it dry wavy, so all I needed to do was tame the waves with a bit of the hair product Mary swore by, and I was good. I ran the product through my hair, and my hair shined and looked beautiful. I looked at myself in the mirror. I wasn’t the most beautiful thing in the world, but I was cute enough. Smiling, I slipped on my shoes and grabbed my backpack. As I put my backpack on my shoulder, I heard a shout. I turned around in the direction of my window, which faced the street. I dropped my backpack on the bed and moved closer, pushing the curtains out of the way so that I could see below.

  “What are you doing here?” It was Ryker, and he was talking to someone.

  “What do you mean?” I knew that voice. It was his, our new neighbor, Shad’s voice. I tried to steady my heart.

  “So you think you found her,” Ryker spoke, so quietly that it was getting hard to hear.

  “Don’t play games with me Ryker, how long have you known?”

  “Shad, you are making a big deal out of nothing,” Ryker replied, very upset.

  “Nothing? Are you serious? This is not nothing? How you could even say that to me baffles me. How could you not remember what she told us?”

  “Of course, I remember. I know it’s a big deal, okay, I get it,” Ryker answered, raising his voice.

  What were they talking about? How did they know each other? Ryker was from here. How could they have met? Maybe on one of their family trips? Maybe the camping trip he went on earlier that summer?

  “You have changed; back home, they would not even know you. Do you not understand how important this is?”

  “You cannot just come here and boss me around, Shad. Seriously—this isn’t the second—”

  “Ryker, I can come here and do what I wish, and you know that I have just as much of a right as you. I have been all over this country, and you knew the entire time. I asked you about this place, and you told me—”

  “Just stay away,” Ryker pleaded. “She doesn’t know anything.”

  “You think after all these years I’ll just walk away? You have no right to that wish—or warning—especially after what you have done. It was tasked to us both. sixteen years, Ryker, for sixteen years you have had your time.”

  “Shad, you do not understand. I couldn’t—things have happened. She is in danger.”

  I gasped. Who were they talking about? But as I asked myself that question, I had this gut feeling that they were talking about me. Why?

  “I thought you were a guard. What have you been doing? Do you even remember who you are?”

  “You know I am not a seeker, and I am not an ancient; I am not invincible. I need help finding him. I don’t have any more connections, and someone is after her.”

  “I will help. Keil and I have resources at our disposal, and you have had your chance, so now it is my turn.”

  “Well—okay, fine.” Ryker backed down a bit. “I would appreciate any Intel Keil can give on this guy I found. He has been almost impossible to track.”

  “I will update you.”

  “I guess we have to work together again,” Ryker gave in, seeming upset about the idea.

  “Seems so, but you need to give me space. You have had plenty.”

  There was silence. I sat down on my bed and wondered what exactly I had just overheard.

  I knew Mary would be waiting for me downstairs, so I collected my thoughts, and decided that I would ask Ryker about it at school. I made my way down the hall and down the stairs into the kitchen.

  “Oh, Emma,” Mary said, running up to me. She had an apron on, her hair in a messy bun with just a touch of mascara, on her lashes, and she was flawless. I giggled at her excitement. Giggled? That was new.

  “Your work,” I said, spinning around.

  “I love your hair; seriously, I wish I had your hair—so long and pretty, and man, I can’t believe that’s natural. Although your dad did have wavy hair, so—” She stopped. I looked up at her from the table. As she was talking, I took a seat, looking at the egg and bacon breakfast she had made for me.

  “Really, Mary, I feel much better these days. We should be able to talk about them without it making me upset.” I stabbed my fork into the eggs. “Can I have ketchup?”

  “Well, that is most definitely your father in you.” She walked to the fridge and retrieved a bottle.

  “Thanks.” I took the bottle and poured it on my food.

  “I hope you have a good day today,” she said as she sat down beside me to eat her own breakfast.

  “I am sure it will be fine,” I responded, stuffing a piece of bacon in my mouth. “As long as people don’t think I am some gothic, emo-chick,” I added, setting my fork down. Mary laughed at that, bringing her glass of milk to her lips.

  “Well, no way with that look.” She smiled at me. I stood up and walked to my backpack on the counter.

  “Then opera
tion make-everyone-think-I-am-fine is a go!”

  Mary laughed.

  “Well, I am meeting Ryker—“

  She walked over to me and gave me a hug.

  “I am so proud of you, Emma. Have a good day, and tell Ryker I say hello.” She smiled again.

  I nodded in return.

  First Day

  I STEPPED OUT OF THE office and looked at my schedule to find a classroom number. Period one was science in D-8. I walked down several hallways to the “D” hall and counted each room that I passed. “Eight,” I said, pointing at the window on the old door, and then, I looked inside. The teacher was standing, monitoring the class. Great, I thought. Just perfect. I didn’t need any extra attention. I had been on time for school, but I had to pick up my schedule. I did not think it would be as difficult as it seemed to be. The line was out the office door. I wished I would have picked it up a week earlier like most people did. I could not get myself to go early, though. I still needed a bit more time, and then quickly, the week got away from me. I stood tall, squared my shoulders, and decided it was a great time to make my first public operation make-everyone-think-I-am-fine appearance. I reluctantly grabbed the door handle, wishing I wasn’t there, and walked in. All twenty-five or so people in the classroom looked over at me—the teacher, too. I took a deep breath and walked up to the teacher to show him my schedule.

  He nodded and pointed to a chair at the front. A boy with brown-blond hair and brown eyes was sitting in the seat next to mine. After I sat down, I realized that it was Sam, one of Ryker’s friends from football. He turned to me.

  “Hey, Emma. Did you have a good summer?”

  I betrayed a slight smile. “Hey, Sam. Yeah, I did—thanks,” I managed to say.

  He nodded an accepting nod before putting his head down on his desk.

  I looked at him, thinking he was pretty cute, and if I had met him freshman year, I would have liked attention from him. That is a weird thing for you to be thinking. I mean, really. In all reality, I knew that I wanted to date, but I never really looked at boys and classified them as cute or whatever. I never pursued anyone before. I mean, I have Ryker. Other guys had liked me, like that horrible junior high dance fiasco. I was even a cheerleader once. I groaned, just thinking about that. My mom wanted me to involve myself at school, and my friend, Karen, my only friend other than Ryker at the time, was trying out, so I just went along with it. Most of the time, looking back at that part of my life, I felt like some sort of zombie, walking through it all. There were times when I remembered awesome moments that Ryker and I had experienced, but most of it was such a blur, a strange blur that was very confusing because the cheer squad was so not me. Why had I tried out? Oh right, because of my Mother. She tried to get me more involved at school, wanted me to try new things, and so I tried cheerleading—which was a big mistake.

  I entertained the possibility that maybe I never really had known who I was. I mean, I seemed to be a total follower, and even though that was what I had done for my entire life, it didn’t seem like something I would do. Great—now you sound like a crazy person in your head, Emma. But seriously, after my parent’s death, I had felt such pain and sorrow. Hadn’t it flooded through me like a bursting dam? I had never experienced emotions like that before. I had thought at first, of course, I had not because I had never lost my parents before, but when had I ever cried? Ever screamed? Yelled? I remembered laughing sometimes with my dad and hugging my mom, but after the car crash, things changed. It was a rush, so many feelings, feelings I could not cope with. Then, I met Shad, and he seemed to re-start whatever lifeless existence I was living. Once so numb, once too intense—and suddenly? I felt alive in the best of ways, like I could be myself, even if I didn’t know who I really was. And why was that? How could someone at sixteen not know who they were at least just a little bit?

  I looked to Sam and his frown as he listened to the lecture that our teacher just started. I wondered again why he, or any others never asked me out. I hadn’t been asked out on a date in a while. Maybe, it was due to my past go-with-the-flow nature? Maybe, I was not appealing? Maybe, he and others thought I was dating Ryker? Ugh, why on Earth do I even care about this stuff? My mom would be oh, so proud right now. I tried not to dwell on the fact that she was gone. I didn’t need to break out into tears in the middle of class.

  Some people had assumed over the years that Ryker and I were a couple. Nope. That was never the case. He had never made a single move on me, even though there were times over the years when I thought it would be easier for us to just be together.

  He just thought of me as a friend, and I accepted that. It hadn’t even hurt. That is strange, isn’t it? I asked myself. Because, when you love someone, and they don’t feel the same way about you, it should hurt, right? I mean, I knew Ryker loved me, but he isn’t romantically in love with me, right? I assured myself. It would have been so convenient for us to date, seeing as we were always together, but that wasn’t why people dated. I still held him in such high regard. I did love him and needed him in my life; I couldn’t imagine my life without him. Is that romantic love? I wondered.

  Before I knew it, class was over, and I was on my way to second period. That wasn’t so bad, I told myself; one period down, and three more to go! I found the classroom for my second period at the back of the campus; unfortunately, it was a very long walk.

  In class, our math teacher had all of us students line up to direct us to our assigned tables. I folded up my schedule and headed in the direction her finger indicated. At the table, sat a boy and a girl. I walked to the table, ready for stupid conversations, and I honestly wanted to cry: Okay—I really need to figure out these feelings and emotions. Why do I always want to cry? No one is dying; this is just math class, Emma. I remembered my determination: I had to make that year different. I would give no one any reason to believe that anything was wrong with me.

  My mother had taught me when I was younger that “sometimes when you are afraid, the only thing you can do is take a deep breath, close your eyes, and just jump.” I, of course, had received that advice from her when I was seven and being urged to jump from the high dive at my swimming lesson when my mom thought that I was not going to jump from the ten foot high dive. I had not been afraid then, but the same method then applied because, for the first time, I truly understood the lesson. Back then, I thought it strange that she thought I would mind jumping. Finally—I got it: people have fears. Maybe I never had fears before, which, let’s be honest, is starting to really weird-me-out, but I can handle this; even if I was a zombie before, it doesn’t mean that I am now, I argued for myself.

  I was not only afraid to jump, I was afraid to interact with my classmates as a nearly grown young woman. I was afraid of conversations that would lead into opening up my dark life and my deep despair to them. I took a deep breath, letting oxygen fill me up as if I were a cup of water under a pitcher that was empty, and all of its contents were already mine. I decided that I would just jump—or in that case, keep my eyes open and have a seat.

  The girl to the left was of an average size and height. She had dark brown, wavy hair that just hit her shoulders. She wore a cheerleader uniform in Columbia blue, white, and navy blue. I wanted to scream as the realization struck me: it was Karen. The boy sitting across from Karen was tan with light brown hair. His eyes were a light grey. His features, though arranged well, were harsh, and he looked rather upset as I sat down.

  I pulled out a notebook and a pencil. The door opened, and in walked Shad. I felt my heart beating so quickly; I could not get enough oxygen. I thought I was drowning. Was it possible that I would not be able to reach the pool’s surface even after my courageous jump from the high dive? I regained my senses; I wished and I prayed that my astonishment at seeing him walk through the door would not be too obvious. I brushed a strand of hair from my face. I did not know that I could feel so alive ever, that this is what living feels like.

  I watched as the teacher looked down a
t her seating chart, and I lost my breath as she pointed to the table where I sat. I tried, really hard, not stare—but failed miserably.

  He smiled at me as he pulled out his chair and took a seat. Before I could try and say something like, “hi,” the teacher started talking. I am sitting across from Shad, I thought with a gleeful inner squeal. I tried to tame my racing heart. It was no small task to accomplish. His hair was a night sky with no stars. His eyes were bright and warm like the sun. I was mesmerized by his face as if I had never seen him before. How handsome he looked just sitting there, his face relaxed, attentive to the teacher. His strong jaw and defined cheekbones added to his beauty. As the teacher continued lecturing, I wished that I were no longer alive. How could I sit across from him? Feelings rushed through me and made me feel too many emotions all at once. I pulled out my notebook and took another peek at his face to find out that he was suddenly looking at me, and in a very strange, confused, but happy way? Maybe? I tried to avert my gaze quickly. I was sure my obvious awe of him was apparent on my face. I turned to look at Karen and was thankful that she ignored me. I looked at the math book in front of me and realized, again in horror, that I was in advanced math. There was nothing advanced about my math skills. I couldn’t stop my mind from freaking out. I am going to flunk this class for certain, and will I humiliate myself in the process? Yes. In front of the intoxicating, gorgeous boy? Oh, Great. I felt a hard jab to my side and turned to Karen.

  “Um, are you going to drool?” Thankfully, she whispered the question to me. I very stealthily stepped on her foot, and she winced in pain and grunted.

  “Shut up,” I said back, glaring at her. I wasn’t afraid of her: hello Karen, I am not an emotionless zombie anymore!

  “Hey, you’re new, right?” I shrunk back into my chair as Karen’s voice rose in volume so that everyone could hear it at our table, and possibly at every table in the class. I looked at Shad, and he looked directly into my eyes. I was a little self-conscious. What was he doing? It was his gaze that was lighting up my soul. A song played in my head just for him, and I could not stop the crazy emotions that bubbled up inside of me, wanting to escape, yet again. His lips lifted into a smile. Finally, after the faraway look left his eyes, he spoke to me as he answered Karen’s question.