Resilient

by Patricia Vanasse

  “Who cares, man? Something stupid for all I know. Nothing intelligent comes out of Lindsay’s mouth.” I make my way back to the couch. Matt’s curiosity keeps him glued to the door.

  I really don’t care what they are talking about, but I do care that Lindsay is here. I do not want to deal with her again. Four months ago, I was hoping she would show up everywhere I went. I did care for her—that was, until I saw her for what she truly is. Now, I wish she would fall off the face of the earth.

  Brianna opens the door and they all come inside, laughing. It must have been a good joke, because Bri’s face is red.

  “Are you going to share the joke?” Matt asks her.

  “Oh, it’s not a joke, and I can’t share it.” She’s holding in another laugh.

  “Whatever, Bri.” Matt is clearly not happy with his girlfriend’s secret. “Are you girls staying? We’re going to watch a movie.” Matt sits next to me, and everyone piles in.

  “Actually, I’m leaving.”

  The girls look a little taken aback, but Matt glances at me and presses his lips together. He doesn’t say anything; he knows why I can’t stay.

  I leave the house with a semi-enthusiastic, “I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

  As I’m getting in my Jeep, I hear Lindsay calling for me. I turn around and I see her approaching. “Hey,” she says. “Can we talk?”

  “What do you want?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest.

  “I just wanted to say that I’m sorry for the other day. I’ve thought a lot about us and I’m moving on, for good.” She sounds sincere. “But I thought we should try to be friends. There’s no reason for us to hate each other.”

  I look at her trying to read between the lines. Lindsay is a good liar. She uses her looks to her advantage—her curly blond hair and wide green eyes make her look like an angel. I know better than that; I should.

  “I’m glad you came to your senses.” I look her in the eyes, and to her credit, I don’t see even a trace of anger.

  “Yeah,” she smiles faintly. “Me, too. I’ll see you around, Adam.” I let her give me a light hug and she heads back inside, leaving me to wonder what her true intentions are.

  * * *

  I toss and turn, unable to fall asleep. Finally, I drag myself out of bed to get a glass of milk. I walk in the kitchen, and I hear someone coming down the stairs. By the noise of flip-flops hitting the hard wood, I know it’s Mom. She always lets her shoes flap annoyingly on the stairs.

  “Adam, is that you?” She whispers.

  “Yeah, just getting a glass of milk.”

  “Where were you this evening?” she says, walking into the kitchen. “I expect you to be home tomorrow for dinner. We’re having our neighbors over, and I would like you to meet their daughter. She’ll be going to your school and she doesn’t know anyone in town.”

  “Okay, but I’ll be leaving early. I have a party to go to.”

  I head back to my bedroom. I think Mom mumbled something else, but I don’t feel like sticking around to find out what.

  Tomorrow will be interesting. This girl won’t be happy to see me. I was kind of a jerk to her, and she knows it. In my defense, I was up on the rocks at the lake reading a book when I saw her approaching, walking down on the dock, and taking her clothes off. For a moment, I thought she was going to go skinny-dipping. She stayed in the water for a long time, floating. Hardly moving. At some point, I thought she was dead. I was surprised that she could stay in the water that long, because normally I can’t get my friends to even stick a toe in it.

  When I saw her swimming back to the dock, I made my way over. I wanted to introduce myself, but I ended up being rude instead. Sometimes I can’t help it. It’s my way to warn people to stay away from me. It’s my way of preventing others from seeing right through me.

  When I got close, she was trying to put her shorts on over her wet body and they got stuck midway. It was kind of funny, so I made a joke; a stupid joke, I guess. I felt anger surfacing from her.

  When there is hostility in the air, I feel it. I can control the strength of it, or even make it disappear, if I want to. But today at the lake, I couldn’t get it to work with Livia. I could tell she was mad at me for staring at her. At that point, I tried to control her mood and calm her down, but it didn’t work.

  That’s never happened before.

  I discovered that I could control people’s anger when I was in fourth grade, at my first school fight. A boy named Mason got pissed off at me when he tripped over my foot and dropped his lunch tray on the floor. Everyone laughed at him and he quickly grew embarrassed. His face got red, I could feel his anger growing, and he looked at me as if it were my fault. He was about to jump at my throat. I was nervous because he was way bigger than I was, so I kept on wishing he’d calm down.

  I thought that again and again, and suddenly, he just sat down and forgot all about me. Ever since then, I’ve practiced harnessing the skill, and now I even use it to calm my parents down when they are having an argument.

  Controlling anger is one of the strange abilities I have. I say strange because I have no clue how I’m capable of these things. Kyle is the only person that knows about them. I told him about the mood control when we were kids and he thought it was super cool and promised to keep it a secret. After that, every three or four years, close to my birthday, I develop a new ability and I tell Kyle about it.

  He has done some research online, and the best he could do was say that I’m a mutant or an alien. We laughed about that for weeks. But since Lindsay messed everything up, there hasn’t been any of that between us. I haven’t talked to him for the past two months, and it sucks not having him around.

  Since I can’t sleep, I open my laptop and check for anything new on Facebook. I can’t hold back the nagging curiosity in the back of my head, so I type Livia Berwick in the search tab. She is here; I open her page, which she didn’t bother to make private. Her profile still says she lives in Manhattan, goes to Loyola High School, and likes hiking, swimming, riding, and running. One thing catches my attention—her birthday is the same as mine: November fifteenth of the same year. I wonder what time was she born.

  I browse her pictures, she’s beautiful. I’ve never seen such bright blue eyes before. It’s a unique shade that stands out beneath her eyelashes and long black hair.

  There are some pictures of her and a guy named John Sullivan. He tagged the pictures on her page. He could be the boyfriend she left behind. He’s kissing her cheek, not her lips, but it looks intimate. At least that should keep me from fantasizing about a girl who is totally out of my league.

  I close my laptop, turn the lights off, and stuff my head in my pillow. I feel my body drifting off to sleep, the memory of those big blue eyes stuck in my head.

  5 Livia

  I wake up with the sun shining on my face. I didn’t close the curtains, and I didn’t take a shower before falling asleep last night. I get up to go to the bathroom, grabbing my phone off my nightstand. No missed calls. I thought Uncle Henry would have called me back. Maybe Dad didn’t tell him about our conversation last night. I take a second look on my phone: it reads five o’clock in the morning, and yet the sun is well up and bright. Sunrise here must come really early during the summer; after all, it doesn’t get dark before ten.

  I shower and put on a tank top and jeans. I promised Dad I would take care of the horses and I don’t want to give him any additional reasons not to trust me. I take one last look in the mirror, pull my hair into a high ponytail, and head downstairs.

  I brew a pot of coffee and set the breakfast table. Mom will appreciate a little help and fresh coffee when she gets up. After last night, I would say I owe it to her.

  I walk outside to the barn and I feel the strong wind hitting my face. I close my eyes, breathing in the early morning smell. It’s going to be another sunny day, windy, but pleasant. When I reach the front of the barn, I notice the door is slightly open. The wind must have blown it open. I step in
side and I hear a husky voice, the same voice from the lake yesterday, and I freeze—Adam. What is he doing here?

  I try to pay attention to what he is saying, but he has stopped talking. I hope he hasn’t noticed me yet. My mind quickly begins to reconsider, and I’m thinking I should just leave.

  As I turn around to make my way out, I trip over a horse’s saddle that is lying on the floor. I reach for the wall to steady myself, but I accidentally grab a metal broom. I land on my butt on the ground, taking the broom down with me with a massive bang.

  “Dammit!” I slowly try to pull myself back up, knowing it’s worthless to sneak out now. He knows I am here—sure enough, he is walking out of the stall and fixing those big brown eyes on me.

  “Eavesdropping, I see,” he says.

  “I have the right to be here. You, on the other hand, are on private property!”

  My inability to read him makes me unreasonable and immediately angry with him. I hold his gaze, expecting him to look away, but he just stands there, continuing to stare with curiosity.

  “Here, let me help you up,” he says, extending his hand. I wave it off.

  “I don’t need a hand. I need you not to leave things lying around in the middle of the floor.”

  “It was not in the middle of the floor. It was leaning against the wall.” There is a grin on his face, his hand still extended.

  I pull myself up, brushing my clothes off with my hands. “Whatever,” I mutter, letting a breath out and shaking my head. “What are you doing here?”

  He rakes his fingers through his hair and turns to walk back into the stall. “Alo asked me to come and check on Aphrodite.”

  I follow him into the stall. “He was going to come, but he got an emergency call over one of his horses.” He’s currying Aphrodite; I run my hand over her soft coat as he asks, “Do you have any experience riding?”

  “Since I was nine; not on an everyday basis, but often enough.”

  “Good! I’ll be the one training Aphrodite and helping you with lessons. She’s almost done with her training, so if you actually know what you’re doing, it shouldn’t take long.”

  I pretend I didn’t understand his insult and I get closer to Aphrodite. She is a beautiful horse; she seems so delicate and serene. I pet her between her eyes and down to her nose. I can feel Adam’s gaze on me, watching my affection for his—now my—horse. It doesn’t take much to understand his love for the animal.

  “I’ll take good care of her,” I say. “You don’t have to worry.”

  “Aphrodite has the power to make anyone fall in love with her. I assume it won’t be any different with you.”

  “You just might be right.”

  The corner of his mouth curves into a smile and it looks genuine. I wish I could read him—just this once, just to know.

  “So, are you excited to start school next week?”

  Is he trying to make small talk? “Not really.” I say and he chuckles. “How big is the high school here?”

  “Not big; only about seven hundred kids.”

  “Does it offer many sports?”

  “There’s something for everyone, I guess. I play football and I’m on the wrestling team.”

  That explains his muscle tone. Even now his sweater finds some flattering contour of his body to hug.

  “Well, Aphrodite is good and cleaned up. I gotta go before I’m late for work.” He heads out of the stall and out of the barn.

  “When are you coming back?” I call after him, and Adam looks at me, a smile tugging at the side of his lips.

  “Missing me already?”

  I chuckle and decide to add conceited to his personality traits. “No, I just don’t want to depend on you to be able to ride.”

  “You do have a saddle and a horse.”

  “I thought she wasn’t ready—”

  “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he cuts me off, “if that’s okay with you.”

  “That’s fine.” I say, a little irritated. I walk past him on my way back to the house, leaving out the usual parting pleasantries.

  “Hey, Livia!” He calls out. I don’t remember telling him my name. I turn around to face him.

  “Yeah?”

  He puts one hand in his pocket and scratches his eyebrow with the other. He looks at me for a moment too long without saying anything, and his gaze makes me feel self-conscious, so I look away. I run my hands over my ponytail just to make sure it’s still in place.

  “What are you doing tonight?” he finally says.

  “Uh, we’re coming over to your parents’ house for dinner.”

  “After that?”

  I think of the party Kyle told me about. I’m leaning toward staying with my parents and brothers for family movie night. They always watch some funny movie on Saturdays before bed. I usually stayed until the popcorn is gone and then head out with John and Alyssa; this time, I might just stay for the whole movie.

  “Family movie night,” I say.

  Adam messes with his hair and then shrugs his shoulders. “I guess I’ll see you later, then.” He walks behind the barn and, a moment later, reappears on top of a horse and heads into the woods. Even from a distance I can see he has a natural comfort with being in a saddle.

  Back in the house, Mom is in the kitchen. “Did I just see the Cooper boy talking to you outside?”

  “Adam.”

  “Did you have lessons today?” Mom feels like I shouldn’t be allowed to do something I enjoy today, as punishment for our argument last night, but she would never bring herself to punish me. She feels that life has already been punishing me enough.

  “Nope, tomorrow.”

  “About Adam, were you able to…?” Mom trails off.

  “Nope.” I grab an apple and I escape to my bedroom before the conversation can unfold. I need to check my e-mail, anyway.

  As predicted, I got a bunch of junk, and some from Alyssa. I open my Facebook page, and I find myself typing Adam’s name on the search tab. His profile comes up. It’s private and I can’t see his wall unless I add him as a friend. I browse through his pictures, which are public. Most are from wrestling, football, and time with friends. I see Kyle in lots of the pictures—they must be close. I see a blond girl, too, on top of Aphrodite with Adam.

  The girl has her arms wrapped around his waist and her face is leaning on his shoulders. She must be his girlfriend. My jaw immediately clenches. So other girls are allowed to ride her, but for me, she isn’t ready? I get off of his page and shut my computer down.

  I head downstairs; when I enter the kitchen, my brothers are licking cake batter off the mixer. “I want some of that!” I say.

  “There’s nothing left,” says Ian.

  “There are only two beaters,” Mom says. “You’ll have to wait for the cake, and I have a feeling that it will be a good one.”

  “Is that Annette’s recipe for the gooey chocolate cake?” I stick my finger inside the dirty bowl.

  “It is! I’m taking it to the Coopers’ tonight.” Mom smiles. “Maybe you can help me and wash the dishes?”

  “So you want me to wash the dishes but you don’t save me any chocolate batter?” I joke. “I see how it works.”

  “Next time, I’ll save you some.”

  I wash all the dishes by hand and put them up. The beeping of my phone startles me—a text from Kyle.

  Address is 1005 Crestwood Cove Ct., Freeland. Passcode to gate is ‘sidekick’. Text and I can meet you at the gate. Hope to see you.

  Maybe I should go. It would be nice to make some friends; otherwise I might end up staying home for movie nights every Saturday for the rest of my life. But the thought of being around so many people weighs heavily in the “cons”.

  “Was that Alyssa?” Mom asks.

  “No, it was Kyle. I met him yesterday at the market. He goes to the same high school. He invited me to a party tonight—he said all the seniors are going and I could meet everyone before school starts.”

  “Did he seem to be
a nice person?”

  “Nice enough.”

  “Then you should go, make new friends.” She gives me an encouraging nod. “You’ll be happier here if you have some.”

  “We’ll see.”

  Mom walks up to me and holds my chin so I’ll look at her. Sometimes I swear she can read my mind. “You have been doing great lately,” she says. “You’ve been spending less time in your room, you’ve traveled with friends, and I’m proud of you for putting yourself out there. Go make some friends and enjoy your last year in school; you’ll miss it when it’s over.”

  When I’m done in the kitchen, I head to my closet to try on some clothes for tonight. Mom has a point and I do need to meet some people, but all the while, I’m telling myself that there is absolutely nothing wrong with movie night at home.

  6 Adam

  I arrive late to Coupeville General Hospital. I’ve been volunteering here during the summer. My position here is to “reach out and read.” In other words, I read books to patients, mostly the elderly. I enjoy it because every time I walk into a room, someone’s face lights up. It’s rewarding and humbling. I’ve also learned a lot from them, because they like to share their experiences with me and give me advice on what I should or shouldn’t do with my life. I don’t mind listening to their suggestions. They remind me of Grandpa.

  Today I’m reading to Mrs. Owens. She is seventy-five years old and suffering from lung cancer. She told me she has been smoking since she was seventeen and she wishes she could go back in time and change the bad choices she made in life. Now, she is in her final days and she won’t be able to see her grandkids graduate from high school.

  As I walk into her room, a huge smile overtakes her face, but her smile is not wide enough to hide her pain; every time I come in here, her skin looks grayer and more like waxed paper than before. She presses a button on her bed to bring her to a sitting position. Her room is decorated with flowers and family pictures.

  “Hello, Adam! I’ve been waiting for you all morning. I can’t wait for us to finish the book. I’ve been thinking nonstop about Noah and Allie, I need to know if they’ll stay together.” Her voice travels across the room like a cracked melody.