The Storms That Fated Us

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The Storms That Fated Us Page 3

by JP Summers


  “Don’t you fucking get me started on sticking up for people. Evan didn’t deserve shit! Of course, you never saw it that way.”

  I refused to stand here and deal with any of this. I had always hated when he talked about Evan, my high school ex-boyfriend, and that bitch, Erin, his longtime girlfriend and soon-to-be ex-wife. It’s like she was so fucking perfect, while I was the one who wasn’t good enough to shine his shoes. If Erin sneezed, Carson went running. He was so goddamned blinded by the way she had her claws into him, it sickened me.

  Trying not to lose my temper any more than I already had, I turned and stormed away from him and made my way into my room. Apparently, I needed more space than what the living room allotted us. I was in desperate need of a breather before doing something drastic, like dumping the dinner I made all over the smug bastard. There was a time he used to bring out the best in me. Now he was doing a marvelous job of bringing out the worst.

  I flung the clothes from my bag all over the room as I frantically searched for my cigarettes. I had picked up smoking right after graduation. Now I just smoke when I’m shitfaced or stressed.

  I searched everywhere for my lighter only to realize it was back home on the kitchen counter. If I didn’t get a nicotine fix within the next five minutes, things were going to get even uglier around here.

  I quickly ran two doors down to Mira’s room to search her bags for a lighter. Next to the smutty lingerie were some scented candles and four yearbooks. I placed them on the bed while sifting through the bag until I found a lighter. I decided to keep the yearbooks out. I knew we wanted to discuss some of the details for our reunion, but didn’t realize she had actually brought these along.

  After tucking the yearbooks under my arm, I walked back into my room to put on a sweater before heading out to the deck to enjoy this bad boy dangling between my lips. There were French doors leading from my room to a deck which overlooked the area we planned on skiing tomorrow morning. I gripped onto the handles, then found myself unable to turn them. A few profanities later, I was able to open the doors and finally walk outside.

  The scenery was amazing. Beyond the gigantic trees were the magnificent mountains surrounding us. Snow sat on every tree limb and glistened like glitter from the sunlight peeking above us. It truly felt like I had stepped into a painting.

  My teeth started chattering almost immediately. My body shivered against the cold, considering how underdressed I was with only a sweater to keep me warm. The wind blew steadily so I puffed hard on my cigarette trying to keep it lit.

  When I couldn’t stand the wind anymore, I put the cigarette out, tossed the butt over the side of the deck, then ran back inside where it was warm and toasty. Thank God Cruz had been thoughtful enough to set the thermostat before Mira and I arrived. I don’t even want to imagine what it would be like inside this cottage if we didn’t have the heat going.

  My stomach growled, reminding me that I had only eaten half my enchiladas. The other half was on the kitchen counter. Part of me wanted to stay locked away in my room until everyone got here, but why should I be the one to hide from Carson? This was my birthday weekend and I had been looking forward to it for a long time. Mira and I had talked for months about how epic it would be. Well, at least we were partly right. This was definitely shaping up to be a weekend I would never forget.

  I’ll be damned before I let him ruin it for me.

  I grabbed the yearbooks and took them into the kitchen with me. I made no attempt to pay any attention to Carson as I walked past him. I reheated my food, made myself another strong cocktail, then pulled out the yearbook from our freshman year and opened it. I vividly recalled every detail of high school once I looked at the pages and was transported back there.

  I placed my hand to my mouth and tried to contain my laughter when I saw myself with my super-small 98 Degrees t-shirt and my embroidered jeans. Oh. My. God. Was that a thong peeking out? I don’t know which was funnier, how cool I thought it looked then or how cringe worthy it felt today. Who in their right mind wears clothes like that? The hairstyles were a different story. What was I thinking?

  Glancing over the first few pages was very entertaining. There was a collage of pictures from all the classes followed by the faculty pages. I finally came across our class pictures. I turned page after page until I found a familiar face. Funny, he had once looked so full of life and the promise of endless possibilities.

  With each page I turned, more of the same faces appeared. I was brought back to the day I showed up as a new student.

  *****

  Of course it had to be raining on my first day at New Holston High. Despite the hour I had spent constructing perfect corkscrew curls, my drenched hair was completely flat. And my make-up was a nightmare! I looked like Alice Cooper had given me a makeover! My eye shadow ran down my face with the eyeliner and mascara playing catch-up in the race to my chin. What a way to make a first impression. I’d be known as the official class clown, but not because of my stellar sense of humor.

  I was clueless as to where I was supposed to go. My hands were filled with books for each of my classes. But a boy wearing low-riding pants with his boxers hanging out and untied shoes stopped to ask if I needed help. Instead of asking him if he was using his shoelaces as a belt, which I was dying to know, I asked for directions to room 1215. He led me to my building, then kindly opened the door for me since I couldn’t. As he walked away, I thanked him and asked his name.

  “John Torres,” he said.

  I gazed out over the sea of unfamiliar faces, unsure of where I should sit until the teacher pointed out a desk with a seat next to a boy immersed in reading some kind of sports magazine. He didn’t look up from his magazine as my squelching shoes and I approached him. As I placed my books and backpack on the desk, a set of honey-colored eyes met mine and we both smiled. For the first time that day, I felt like I actually belonged at this new school. I settled into my seat, pulling out the binder with the map to locate my other classes.

  Pulling my drenched hair into a ponytail, I shivered as the cold, wet drops traveled down the back of my t-shirt. I pulled a highlighter out of my backpack, placing it on my desk. Then I reached back into my backpack to search for my class schedule. My highlighter had other plans and rolled off the desk. Like a cat, my desk buddy caught it with ninja-like reflexes before it landed on the floor.

  Thanking him, I turned my attention toward highlighting the room numbers when a whispering voice commented, “You know, there’s an easier way to get from this class to your next one.”

  Questioning his shortcut, I whispered back, “Are you sure? Because this class is next to the cafeteria and it appears there’s two alternate ways.”

  Looking at the front of the class to make sure the teacher was busy paying attention to the other students, he continued, “Actually there’s three. If you go outside and then walk around the building, you’ll avoid all the hallway traffic and get to that room much quicker.”

  Thankful for his navigational skills, I inquired, “Are there other shortcuts around here I should know about?”

  “For the right price, I can tell you every shortcut and which teachers will let you get away with anything in their class,” he commented, laughing. His laugh was infectious.

  Curious, I responded, “So what price does this kind of information go for around here?”

  “Well, as you can see, one can pay quite a bit of money for this kind of valuable information, but I’ll give you the new student discount which is... buying me lunch.” He stared straight ahead as he talked through the side of his mouth. I realized I had yet to catch his name.

  I couldn’t help but laugh as I whispered back “All I have to do is buy you lunch? That seems pretty reasonable. Of course, I don’t usually buy lunch for people without getting their name first.”

  My new acquaintance flashed a huge smile and answered, “Carson Rodriguez.”

  I extended my hand, shaking his and replied softly, “Hello, Carson,
my name is Matia Deltoro, but I go by Tia.”

  “Okay, Tia. We better stop talking before you have to learn where the room for detention is.”

  The teacher droned on about what he expected for the first semester. I zoned out. I had been so nervous about starting a new school. For the first time in a long time, life started to feel normal. I realized starting a new school wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be. I had already met two very nice people and I’d only been here for an hour. If I could make it through one day in this place, then I’d be just fine. At least, that’s what I hoped for.

  When there were only five minutes left in class, everyone started to put away their books and wait for the bell. I stood next to my desk studying the school map once more, looking for the lockers, when Carson playfully bumped my elbow.

  I joked, “I hope your directions are better than your balance.”

  “Oh, I see—you’re the smart-ass kind.”

  “It takes one to know one.”

  “I guess I’ve finally met my match.”

  “Yes, you have.”

  “Can I ask you something, Tia?”

  “Sure. Ask away.”

  “What brings you to—?”

  Before he had a chance to finish asking his question, the bell interrupted. Everyone filed out of the classroom while I stayed back, frantically trying to stuff all my books into my backpack, which was impossible. Carson noticed my backpack wouldn't cooperate with me. I finally got it zipped, but as I struggled with the straps, he came to my rescue by slipping them over my shoulders and offering to carry some of my things. I thanked him for his friendly gesture as we made our way down the hall to find my locker.

  We were almost to the freshman hallway when I looked over at Carson, asking, “What were you going to say before the bell interrupted us?”

  Everyone was saying hi to Carson as we walked together, but he focused all of his attention on me. “Why did you move to New Holston?”

  I knew this topic would probably come up several times today. But as much as I hated talking about myself, I figured I might as well let it all out and fill Carson in. I took a deep breath.

  “My parents divorced, and my mom wanted to move closer to her family since she grew up around here. I decided to come along with her instead of staying with my dad and his...” I couldn't even say it. The word “girlfriend” made my stomach churn. My dad’s cheating had broken our family apart.

  “I’d rather be with my mom. She’s really cool and more like a friend than a parent.” Carson paused for a moment. He must have realized we were embarking on a complicated topic just by the subtle change of tone in my voice.

  In an apologetic way, Carson stated, “I’m sorry about your parents.”

  Shrugging my shoulders, I honestly replied, “It’s okay. I’m actually looking forward to starting all over like my mom. Besides, New Holston is a pretty nice little town with some pretty friendly people.” I was trying so hard to put that part of my life behind me. I didn’t want to dwell on it. I may have talked a big game, but I was still mourning the disintegration of my family and the life I had known.

  Once we arrived at the lockers, we were pleased to discover that my assigned locker was located across the hall from his. Before we parted ways, he said to look out for him during lunch so I would have somewhere to sit. I’d only known Carson for one class period, but he’d already eased my transition into the new school. To think I’d spent the last few nights unable to sleep, worrying about not making any friends.

  My other morning classes went by fast and before I knew it, lunch arrived. I walked into the cafeteria looking for Carson, but I didn’t see him. After a few minutes of scouting out potential places to sit, a set of warm hands touched my arm, making me jump a little. I turned around to see Carson with the same welcoming smile from earlier.

  Relieved I had at least one person to eat lunch with, I made my way with him toward a table already occupied by a group of people. A girl with a mischievous look on her face and the longest blond hair I’d ever seen was the first to run over before we could even set our backpacks down and excitedly say, “Hi, I’m Mira Harris.” She was a bubbly, very petite, and very well endowed for a teenage girl. Her bleach blonde hair, baby blue eyes, and perfect, tanned skin made me slightly jealous of her.

  After meeting Mira, everyone went around the table introducing themselves. I had previously met John Torres on my way to my first class, but it was rather intriguing to learn he was the ringleader of the group since grade school. Cruz Garcia was the All-American in football for the past two years. He had to be at least 200 pounds of pure muscle and built to sustain any athlete who was brave enough to tackle him on the field.

  Audrey De Leon stood a few inches over my 5’4” frame. Her wavy, dark brown hair came to her shoulders just like mine. She was equally as friendly as Mira, but not as energetic. Hell, I don’t think anyone could have been any more enthusiastic about meeting someone new as that girl was.

  The last guy to shake my hand was Logan Price, one of the tallest teenagers I’d ever met. I was surprised I didn’t get a neck cramp from staring up at this auburn-haired giant of New Holston High.

  The brief introductions left us with only twenty minutes to get our lunch and eat. By the way everyone quieted down and kept their full attention toward me, I knew they were waiting to learn everything there was to know about me including why I moved from Minnesota to this little town in Michigan. If I wanted to eat before the bell rang for my next class, I had to bring up my parents’ split. The second I said the word “divorce” they quickly changed the conversation to the upcoming football game, where Cruz started strategizing about crushing the unsuspecting opponent.

  Carson motioned for me to join him in the lunch line once it had died down to only a few students. I went to grab my tray, but he took it for me. I thanked him while reaching for my money to pay for our lunches.

  “Oh no, my treat,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

  I would have elbowed him, but the macaroni and cheese looked too good to end up on the floor. Once I got back to the table and sat down, Cruz and John scraped their chairs across the floor, moving in closer to me. I placed the piece of what appeared to be Salisbury steak in my mouth as Logan questioned, “What is the weather in Minnesota like during this time of year?”

  I quickly chewed, then swallowed the remainder of the tasteful meat before responding,

  “I didn’t have to put on any extra layers of clothes when I dressed in the morning. It’s rather cold this time of year.”

  “So does it snow in September?” Cruz curiously asked.

  I took a sip of my chocolate milk, then answered, “I honestly don’t remember it snowing in September, but October is a different story. I remember trick-or-treating as a kid while walking through snow.”

  “WOW! That’s crazy!” John injected.

  “Hey guys… let's allow Tia to finish eating since she only has a few minutes left until the bell rings,” Carson thankfully interjected on my behalf.

  “Well it was nice meeting you, Tia, but I have to run to the office to pick up my revised schedule. I hope we can hang out sometime after school,” Mira commented while holding her tray in one hand and bag pack in the other.

  “I would love to hang out, too.”

  “Great. Just make sure Audrey gets your phone number and I’ll get it from her.”

  Mira began walking towards the trash bin when Cruz excused himself to follow her outside. By the way they were smiling at one another and playfully touching I assumed there was something going on between them.

  As I swallowed the last of my mashed potatoes while studying the hands on the clock above the food line, Audrey slightly nudged my elbow, stating, “Cruz and Mira just got back together after breaking up for the tenth time this week. You’ll get use to the drama they create. Well, at least we all have.”

  “Oh. I see. They are one of ‘those’ couples.”

  “Yeah. Cruz uses the
fact he’s a jock to his advantage and is such a major tease. He knows the girls will flock to him like sheep with just a wink or snap of his fingers. Mira is his weakness, though. He’s chased after her since the fifth grade. Now that she’s taken notice of his crush, she hates when any other girl besides herself gets any of Cruz’s attention.”

  After finishing my lunch, Carson didn’t even give me a chance to throw away anything. He took the tray for me. John joined him as they acted like a bunch of juveniles, joking around and hitting each other.

  Audrey turned toward Logan with me in the middle and commented, “Wow! It’s been a long time since Carson has smiled like that.” Logan nodded in agreement when she continued. “It’s like his mood miraculously shifted from being a sulking mess to happy-go-lucky.”

  Logan grinned at me and asked, “What did you do to get him to be all cheerful? We’ve all tried to get him to smile since his girlfriend dumped him this summer.”

  I wasn’t sure what to make of our conversation. Here were two people who were obviously pretty close to Carson telling me his behavior had changed, possibly because of me. I highly doubted I was the reason for Carson’s recent behavior. We only spent one class, a little time in the hallway, and a lunch period together.

  Audrey noticed the time on the clock over the cafeteria door indicating that the bell was about to ring and gave me her cell number and Mira’s before leaving for class while Carson offered to walk with me to my next one. While Carson and I walked down the hallway, he noticed the brightly colored afterschool soccer tryouts flyer.

  Carson looked at me, boasting, “You know, I am one of the best players on the boys' varsity soccer team. I only try out so it doesn’t look like I get special treatment.”

  “Really? Is that what you think?”

  “Of course! You should see some of my moves sometime.”

  “Oh, I bet you have all kinds of moves,” I jokingly commented. “You know, I probably could teach you a thing or two on the field. I’ve played soccer since I was five.”

 

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