Shades of Amber

by Morgan Smith

  Having barely made it to the bed, I closed my eyes as my knees gave out.

  “You’re not real. I’m stuck in a nightmare, but once I wake up everything will go back to normal.”

  “Don’t lie to yourself, Jade. I came back here just for you.” His tone turned sweet at the end, but I couldn’t let myself fall for it.

  Pulling my knees to my chest, I rocked back and forth.

  This wasn’t happening.

  “You can’t run from me.”

  “You are not real.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. “Just wait, Jade. I’ll convince you.”

  “Please, just leave me alone.”

  He chuckled. “It’s too late.” His voice caressed my nerves like velvet, and then there was nothing but the dial tone.

  ¤¤¤¤

  Doomed

  The melody to which we dance,

  Reminds me of quicksand.…

  Like a rock,

  I am weighed down by your love

  Because it hits me like the strongest drug.

  It burns in my heart like an eternal flame,

  Making me wish you’d never come back again.

  This harmony,

  This endless tune

  Reminds me that we are forever doomed.

  You are like no other,

  That much is true,

  But you are no longer mortal enough

  For you to be you.

  -Jade

  Chapter 3

  …Troy…

  For a week, I studied her.

  The new Jade was timid, reserved, and reminded me of a small bunny, while my girl had been exuberant, outspoken, and fierce like a tiger.

  I traced a circle on the window, giving it eyes, whiskers, and triangular ears as Jade’s teacher rambled about the Renaissance. At first glance, my sweet angel appeared to be taking notes, but I saw the truth. Her mind was on me and her doodles were a mixture of the words she wanted to say, as well as the things she wouldn’t.

  None of that matters though. Jade had my love whether she wanted it or not.

  I shoved my hands in my pockets, willing her to see me. My body yearned to possess her in every way, but she’d convinced herself that I was a ghost at best. At worst, I was a figment of her imagination. A lesser man might’ve given up, but I was excited by the prospect of convincing her otherwise.

  ¤¤¤¤

  Jade

  It was hard to give a damn about a king who lived in the 1600s with my stalker outside.

  If I couldn’t survive the next hour, no one would stop me from fleeing the room. My forehead was damp with perspiration, my skin lacked its usual glow, and I had mastered the kind of expression that made you think I would upchuck at any moment.

  History had always been my least favorite subject, but seeing that cat on the window didn’t help my concentration. I stared at my hands, trying to suppress the jitters.

  My life was spiraling out of my control, and it was all because of a guy, a class, and a phantom.

  September 28, 2007

  The Centennial Library was a magical place with floor to ceiling shelves and far too many books for my seventeen-year-old brain to absorb. One of the librarians had given me a card with the shelf number and a few spoken directions, but I felt like a mouse in a maze.

  “Finally,” I muttered after twenty minutes. I plucked The Phantom of the Opera from the shelf and read the back.

  “Say you’ll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude,” said a masculine voice.

  Over my shoulder, I found a guy with light brown skin, wavy black hair, and rich hazel eyes.

  I looked away.

  If I had to guess, I’d put him between eighteen and twenty-four, maybe older since there wasn’t a wrinkle to be found on his black polo or jeans.

  I tried to focus on other things, but his image was carved into my mind. I flipped through my book, attempting to collect my thoughts.

  Was he flirting with me?

  He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist when I saw you.”

  “You don’t even know me.”

  He smiled and withdrew a hand from his pocket. “Allow me to introduce myself.”

  I was hesitant, but lifted my hand because no matter how badly I wanted to get away, I couldn’t be rude. He hadn’t done anything, yet; however, he looked like trouble.

  If we ever dated, I could easily choose to spend time with him instead of doing my homework, and then my mother would kill me because school is the most important thing.

  “My name is Troy,” he said as he brought my hand to his lips.

  Troy was a nice name.

  After a moment, I shivered and pulled away. He smiled, but there was more to it than that. My free hand gripped the book as if it was a lifeline.

  I needed to leave.

  “I have to go,” I blurted, not caring how it sounded.

  He chuckled. “So soon? You haven’t even told me your name.”

  I looked at the exit, yearning to be away from the weird feelings he stirred. Fight or flight thoughts roared through me, drowning his words. I shook my head as I turned to face him.

  “What?”

  He came closer, but I moved away. My back brushed the shelf as he stopped in front of me. “How can I find you, if I don’t know who I’m looking for?”

  “Why would you look for me?”

  His gaze bore into mine. “Perhaps only you can save me from my solitude.”

  There was something about the way he said things—his dialect, that made me wish he’d keep talking. However, the situation and his words were getting stranger by the moment, especially if he expected me to believe them.

  “Wow, that’s funny. I bet all the girls love that line, don’t they?” His eyes seemed serious, but he could have perfected that look in the mirror. I stepped to the left. “That was a good pickup line,” I replied as I gave him my back.

  “It’s from The Phantom of the Opera.”

  My hands clenched around the paperback. “Sure it is.”

  “We can discuss it when we meet again,” he assured me.

  Closing my eyes, I tried not to think about his proximity.

  Could he hear my pounding heart?

  “Right, are you psychic?” I asked, expecting a witty comeback, but when I looked, he was already gone.

  As I took the stairs, I wondered what drew him to me. Was I special or did I just have peculiar timing?

  This was why I didn’t date. Everything was far too complicated.

  Running through the last few minutes gave me something to do as I hurried toward the checkout desk. I slapped the book on the counter, which made Miss Sorrow shake her head.

  “Did you find everything you were looking for?” she asked as she put the receipt between the pages.

  “Yes, thank you.” I tried to stop there, but I couldn’t hold my tongue. “I think I found a lot more than I bargained for.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Is everything alright, dear? You seem rather anxious.”

  “I’m fine,” I smiled as I grabbed the book and waved good-bye. Once I passed through the exit, I power walked to my car, wondering why I felt like I was running from something. Tossing my stuff in the passenger seat, I struggled to clear my mind.

  “Why am I so freaked out? He was just flirting.”

  I didn’t want to spend my weekend reading The Phantom of the Opera, but I didn’t have a choice. I just hoped a literary overdose wasn’t fatal.

  I tapped the console with my fingertips. “This is good. I’ll be able to forget about that guy, and everything will go back to normal come Monday.”

  After I parked my mom’s old Honda in our empty driveway, my thoughts wandered back to that guy. He was cute and if he hadn’t been so full of himself, I might’ve fantasized about seeing him again.

  “Yeah, right.” I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed for the sidewalk. The sight of the porch light made me smile. It was comf
orting to know my parents didn’t want me stumbling around in the dark. Taking the stairs two at a time, I hurried to my room and closed the door. It was Friday night, and I was stuck reading while everyone else was out.

  Pulling off my coat and boots, I lay on the bed, and read until the words became blackbirds on snow. I made it through a hundred pages and conked out at 3 a.m.

  I spent all of Saturday reading about the Phantom and his “death’s head” until there were fifty pages left. I looked at the clock and blew out a frustrated breath. It was after eleven.

  When I woke up at 9 o’clock, I inhaled a bowl of cereal, and then jumped right into the story. I agonized over what would become of Christine, The Phantom, and Raoul, until I finally reached the last page.

  Yes!

  Showered and dressed, I raced down the stairs, only to find my parents at the bottom.

  “Well, there you are! We thought you’d been lured away by the Phantom, himself!” my dad said as he burst into laughter.

  Mom hugged me, and thumped him on the arm. “Shame on you! At least she was doing homework.” She squeezed my arm. “How was the book, honey?”

  I sighed. “It was darker than I expected, but it was pretty good. Where are you guys going?”

  She ran a hand down her navy dress. “We were hoping you’d want to have some family time, maybe a trip to the museum?”

  “Sure let’s go,” I said even though I was frowning inside.

  My mom beamed at me, and hurried into the living room to collect my four-year-old sister and one-year-old brother. Five minutes later, she had Matthew in her arms and Kimmie at her heels, dancing in a fur coat.

  “Mom, it’s not that cold out.”

  She grabbed Kimmie’s hand as dad opened the door. “You know how kids are; they always wear too much or not enough. You used to wear layers in the summer,” she said with a laugh.

  Before I knew it, it was seven o’clock and we were just getting home. I said goodnight and climbed the stairs, closing my door behind me.

  We’d gone from the Museum to one of the cafés in the Art District to The Aquarium, and then had dinner at The River Rock Cafe. Deciding to take a shower, I grabbed my towel and traipsed down the hall.

  Some of my friends couldn’t wait to get their degree and pursue more exciting lives, but I thought Chattanooga was a great place for family.

  Wearing the Hello Kitty pajamas Shanika gave me on my last birthday, I snuggled under the blankets and eyed the book on my nightstand. My fingers traced the cover’s white mask as I remembered the stranger’s words. I’d combed through it, looking for that phrase, but it wasn’t there. Maybe it was in another version, but then it dawned on me—it was probably in the movie.

  It didn’t matter. We’d be on another book soon.

  2010

  The sound of books slamming brought me out of my thoughts just in time. Class was over. I rubbed my neck as I walked outside. The sky looked so gloomy that even the sun was hiding. I wasn’t surprised; I felt like disappearing too.

  Hugging my backpack to my chest, I set off toward the cafeteria. I used to spend my free hour in the library, but it’s been weeks—not since the night I saw Troy, and I don’t know if I’ll ever have the courage to go back.

  A few months ago, I was cheerful and smiling, but that was before I saw him again. I should be happy, right? My lost love has finally returned, but at what cost? His love was like a drug that scorched my system, and I’m afraid that if I let him, he’ll turn my life inside out again.

  I bought a Cola from the vending machine and claimed an empty table in the corner. Troy may be back, but I’m the one acting like a ghost. I pulled out my dog-eared copy of The Phantom of the Opera and stared at the cover. Three years ago, I never would have thought a single book would play such a large role in my life.

  My fingers traced the white mask.

  Lovely

  From the moment I saw you,

  I knew you’d be mine.

  You are the most beautiful,

  Most lovely girl I could find.

  And though,

  You don’t know it,

  I’m sure we’ll be…

  Together for the rest

  Of eternity.

  -Troy

  Chapter 4

  September 31, 2007

  I got to school just in time for my 10 o’clock Lit class, and I mean that literally. I stepped over the threshold right as the bell rang.

  Ms. Mitts waved me in before closing the door. “Good morning, Jade.”

  “Good morning,” I replied as I caught sight of the only available desk. There’d be more soon. People always dropped after they received their money.

  I walked down the middle aisle, heading for the seat on the back row. To the left, a girl played with her phone, and to the right sat a guy with his nose buried in a book. Neither of them stirred as I grabbed my notebook, which made me nervous. I didn’t want to get partnered up with a slacker.

  Ms. Mitts cleared her throat and began writing on the whiteboard with a green marker: Phantom of the Opera Discussion. She put the lid on and turned. “Today, we’re going to break into pairs and discuss what we liked and disliked about the book, as well as what we didn’t understand.”

  Ten minutes later, she called my name and told me to make friends with the person on my right. I was curious to know what he looked like minus the book. Maybe he’d be the cute distraction to my boring semester.

  To my surprise, I found the same hazel eyes from the library. I gripped the edge of the desk so hard that I would have damaged it, if I were more than the average girl.

  His lips curled up, revealing his nice, white teeth.

  I wanted to say that he was in the wrong class when Ms. Mitts gasped. “I’m sorry! I almost forgot to introduce our new student: Troy Montague. Jade, be a dear and help Troy catch up.”

  The finality in her voice made me shudder. I felt like pulling my hair out even though he was watching me.

  “Okay class, get started.” She tapped the marker against her desk. “And play nice, you’ll also be partners for the mid-term project. Exchange names, phone numbers, and emails!”

  I put my head in my hands, wondering if I’d look down and see myself naked. Surely, I wasn’t really sitting next to the handsome guy I’d been thinking about since Friday night.

  Desks screeched across the linoleum as people paired off. I held my breath as my desk shifted to the right. I tried to move back, but I wasn’t strong enough to do it without drawing attention.

  “You intrigue me.” His words were quiet and accompanied by a smirk.

  “Excuse me?”

  He shrugged and tapped a pen against his black notebook. “You don’t introduce yourself when we meet, and then you pretend we don’t know each other. Do you do that with everyone?”

  “No, I didn’t introduce myself because I never thought I’d see you again!” I hissed.

  Why was I so frazzled? I didn’t have time to get caught up in drama, I had to keep my grades up and make the Dean’s List.

  He smirked. “Ah, so I’m special.”

  “Yes. I mean, no.” I shook my head. “You are a stranger.”

  He touched one of my hands before I hid them beneath the desk. “That’s alright.”

  I raised my eyebrow.

  “We’ll be seeing a lot of each other.” He traced the line that separated our desks. “You have to get me caught up, remember?”

  “How could I forget?” Taking a deep breath, I opened my notebook until I found a clean sheet of paper, and then I looked him square in the eye. “Hi, I’m Jade Nightingale.”

  “Jade,” he whispered. “That’s a beautiful name.” He leaned so close that I could smell his cologne. It was spicy and unique. “That wasn’t so hard now, was it?”

  I rolled my eyes. The guy was infuriating, but his cursive turned my name into a work of art. “You have really nice handwriting,” I said as I scribbled his in my cursive-print.

  “Tha
nks.” He smiled. “Beautiful penmanship for your beautiful name.”

  Perhaps, I mistook his friendliness for flirting.

  His easygoing demeanor made it hard not to smile… until he asked the next question.

  “What’s your phone number?” He sat quietly, watching me.

  I rubbed my throat. “I prefer email,” I said as I leaned over to get the water from my bag.

  “You don’t have a phone number?”

  I tried to look him straight in the eye, but settled on the space just to the left of his head. “Nope, just an email address.”

  From the way his eyes sparked, I knew he was laughing on the inside. “Okay, I guess we’ll just have to meet up every day, so you can help me get caught up.”

  “Excuse me?” I put down the water and crossed my arms.

  “Well.” He exhaled. “If you had a phone I could call, and you could tell me what I’ve missed over the last two weeks, but you don’t. So we’ll have to meet up.”

  I waved my hands. “Let’s worry about contact info later. What did you like about the book?” I paused, remembering the quote I couldn’t find. “Or did you just watch the movie?”

  He chuckled and tapped my desk with his pen. “Why would you think that?”

  I shrugged. “I didn’t find your words in there.”

  His hand rose, and for a second, I thought he might touch my hair. “I read the book, and watched the movie. The quote is from Andrew Lloyd Webber’s song: ‘All I Ask of You’.”

  “So did you like the book or not?”

  He leaned close. “I like that it kept the reader on his or her toes, but it was also predictable.”

  I wrote his response. “How so?”

  “The good guy always gets the girl. People would never expect Christine and the Phantom to end up together.”

  “So are you the good guy or the bad boy?” I bit my lip, but the words were already out.