Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy)

by Sara Mack

  I can hear Shel pressing the shaving cream out of the cans in between the crunch of fallen leaves beneath my feet. I glance up the drive and see her methodically covering James’ windshield with shaving cream. I laugh to myself. That will serve him right! Two can play at this game.

  Earlier in the day, Shel and I got wind from Zach during school that James and Matt were planning an epic tp-ing event at my house around midnight. We decided that it would be fun to beat them to it and devised a plan: we’d leave earlier and wreak havoc at James’ house first. If the boys still carried out their scheme after seeing what we had done, we’d be waiting in the darkness back at my place ready to bust them before they could do any real damage.

  I’ve finished with about three trees when I run out of paper. “Shel!” I whisper-yell to her.

  She looks my way. She’s finished with James’ Jeep and is busy soaping Matt’s pickup.

  “I’m out! I’m going back to the car for more supplies!”

  I see her nod. I creep back down the driveway to Shel’s car, her grandmother’s old tan Lumina, which we’ve parked a little way down the road from the house. I make it to the car and open the squeaky rear door. I grab as many rolls of toilet paper as I can and try to shut the door as quietly as possible, although I’m not sure who would hear me out here.

  I concentrate on keeping a hold of all the rolls as I creep back up the driveway. I shouldn’t have grabbed so much. Back where I left off, I let the rolls fall to the ground except for one and get ready to heave it into the tree. I take a second and glance over at Shel to see how she’s coming along, but she’s not by Matt’s truck anymore. Confused, I start looking around the yard to find her.

  “Shel!” I whisper as loud as I dare.

  No answer.

  “Shel! Where are you?”

  Again no answer. Where could she have gone? Did I pass her on my way back from the car? Impossible. I start to walk toward where I last saw her. “Shel!”

  SMACK!! Something hits me dead center in the middle of my back. I whip around to see a tall, wiry blonde running away from me, laughing. Matt! I look down and see a cracked egg shell and yolk on the ground. He’s throwing eggs!

  Crap! We’ve been found out! I run around James’ truck to duck down and hide. When I come around the side I get a good look at the front porch and see three cartons of eggs sitting on the ground. I run over to them, grab as many eggs as I can hold, and run back, ducking low. I hear footsteps approaching on the other side. I stand up quickly, turn, and launch an egg. It connects with my target perfectly – except my target is Shel!

  I can’t help but burst out laughing. “I’m so sorry!” I tell her as she stands there dripping with egg. I notice she’s holding a couple of eggs too. She must have found them while soaping.

  She starts laughing. “Come on! I think they ran around back!”

  We pass by the porch and Shel picks up a few more eggs. “Stupid of them to leave them out like this.”

  We head around the back of the house and crouch by the deck.

  “Shhh,” I whisper to Shel.

  We hear the patio door slide open. “They’ve got to be out front,” I hear James whisper. “You head around that way and I’ll go around the other way,” he says.

  Shel and I look at each other. The boys have to come off the deck to go around the house; they will walk right past us. Shel nods at me and mouths “1…2...3!”

  We jump up at the same time and start throwing our eggs.

  “Take that!” Shel yells.

  “Hey! Ahhh!”

  “Split up!”

  James and Matt take off in different directions while trying to block our shots. James leaps over the railing of the deck and takes off toward the side yard; Matt has no choice but to take the steps and run right past us.

  One of my eggs makes perfect contact with his temple. I bust out into hysterical laughter and shout, “Payback!” then take off running in the opposite direction.

  Shel must have followed me because we end up together behind the shed. “Now what?” I ask her. “We’re out of ammo.”

  “Temporarily,” she says. She nods to the left and I see the hose reel connected to the side of the house. “You go and man the hose. I’ll flush them out.” She flashes an evil smile.

  I nod and take off for the side of the house. When I reach the hose, I unroll it a bit so I have some slack to work with. I turn on the faucet, grip the nozzle, and stand pressing my back against the siding. I whisper to Shel, “Ready!”

  Shel takes off around the front of the house. It’s not long before I hear “There she is! Get her!” Running and laughter ensue, headed my direction. Shel runs past me and shouts, “Now!”

  I step away from the house and squeeze the nozzle of the hose as far as it will go. A concentrated stream of water sprays out and nails James right in the face as he runs up on me.

  “Arrggh!”

  “Gotcha!” I yell as he sputters and tries to block my shot. I drop the hose and take off running. I catch a glimpse of Matt chasing Shel around the side of the house again, so I decide to take off deeper into the back yard. I hear footsteps behind me, chasing me. I can’t see any good place to hide and I’m started to get winded. He’s going to catch me! I have no idea how far behind he is, so I make a wide turn and attempt to head back near the house when I feel a hand brush against my shoulder trying to grab my shirt. “AHH!” I scream.

  “Come here!” James shouts, laughing.

  I keep running toward the house. Maybe I can make it around the front and hide by the porch to grab more eggs. I can’t hear James behind me anymore, but it’s highly unlikely that he’s given up. I’m almost there. I round the corner of the house to the front yard when, out of nowhere, I’m met with a handful of shaving cream to my face.

  “Ahhh!” I yell as I’m knocked off balance. I recover nicely though and wipe away enough of the foam to see Matt standing there, covered nearly head to toe with the stuff. Shel’s standing next to him, just as covered. Both of them are laughing hysterically, gripping their sides. They must have had one heck of a shaving cream fight with the cream Shel used on James’ windshield.

  “Gotcha!” James runs up and surprises me from behind. He swoops me up with one arm around my waist. I struggle against him. “Now what are you going to do?” he laughs.

  “Get you with the hose again!”

  “Oh no you’re not!”

  “Once I get out of here, you’re done!” I tease.

  “Not gonna happen!”

  I continue to push against his arm, trying to break free. “Put me down!”

  He laughs.

  “Hey guys,” Shel calls to us. “I’m sticky. And hungry.”

  “Same here,” Matt says, shaking shaving cream off his fingers. “Let’s clean up and get something to eat.”

  “Will you behave if I put you down?” James asks me.

  “Of course,” I say sweetly. “But I win.”

  “What? You so did not win.”

  “I did too. You have to admit that was an excellent shot with the hose.”

  “I will give you that,” he says as he releases me. “But you fell right into my trap. Who do you think told us you’d be coming here tonight?”

  “Zach!”

  He grins. “Matt and I were prepared for you all along. You should have just waited to jump us at your house later.”

  “Ugh!” I punch him in the arm.

  He looks up at my handiwork with the toilet paper in the trees. “What a waste of perfectly good toilet paper,” he snickers.

  I pull a glop of egg off his shirt. “What a waste of perfectly good eggs,” I mimic him and smash the yolk on his cheek, dragging my hand down the side of his face and rubbing it in.

  “You are going to pay for that!” he says angrily but his eyes light up.

  I start to giggle as I back away from him with my hands held out in front of me. “What are you going to do?”

  “You’d better run,” he
threatens.

  “I’m not scared of you,” I boast.

  In one quick movement he charges at me, grabs the top of my legs, and throws me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “I warned you!”

  “Shelby! Matt! Help!” I yell at the ground and kick my legs as he starts to carry me behind the house. I look over near the porch where they had been standing, but they are gone. They must have gone inside while we debated who the winner was.

  “Where are you taking me?”

  “You’ll see.”

  We’re coming up on the hose. “Oh no! Not the hose! I’m already enough of a mess as it is!” I yelp.

  With me still hoisted over his shoulder, he bends down to make sure the hose is still turned on. He grabs the nozzle. “I think you have something on your face,” he laughs. “Looks like shaving cream. Let me get that for you.”

  “No! No! Okay! You win!” I protest.

  “Um, I think it’s too late for that.” He reaches behind his back with the hand that holds the hose and it points directly at my inverted head.

  “Please don’t!” I shield my face with my hands. This is going to be cold! I let out a small “eeek!”

  He laughs and drops the hose, then puts me down so I’m standing in front of him. “Do you really think I’d shoot you in the face with a hose?”

  I look up at him and shrug. “Why not? I shot you in the face with it.”

  He grins. “I can take it.”

  “You’re not so tough,” I wrap my arms around his waist. “All talk and no action.”

  “No action, eh?” he raises his eyebrows. He leans down and plants a kiss on me that makes my head spin, then pulls away. “You taste like shaving cream. It’s gross.”

  “Oh, well thank you. You have egg all over your face and it’s gross,” I laugh.

  Shel’s voice comes from behind us. “You’re both gross. Would you get your hands off each other for a second? What do you want on your pizza?”

  Chapter 5

  When the sedative wears off enough for me to open my eyes again, it is late afternoon the next day. I stretch out my body and my muscles protest. I must have stayed in the same position the whole time. Ouch.

  As I wait for the blood to return to my limbs, I replay the Davis’ visit and how angry they are with me. My heart hurts. I wish I was strong enough to have talked to them, to apologize for temporarily losing my sanity. I didn’t plan for it to happen; I was doing pretty well until I lost my concentration on that blasted plant. The orchid. I realize now why I was drawn to it. The same fuchsia flowers were in my prom corsage.

  I get out of bed and shuffle my way to the bathroom.

  “Em? Is that you?” I hear my mom shout up the stairs.

  “Yes!”

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yes! I’ll be down in a sec.” I look in the bathroom mirror. Yikes. I brush my teeth and then try to comb through the snarls in my hair. It’s not working very well. I then realize I’m in the same clothes I wore yesterday and decide a shower is in order.

  The hot water feels amazing. I soap up my hair, pile it on top of my head and let the water pound on the back of my neck. It relaxes my muscles and reminds me of when James would rub my shoulders when I was stressed. I could sure use a massage right now. I try to remove the tension from my shoulders myself, but it’s a lame attempt and does nothing.

  “I wish I could do that for you.”

  My head snaps up and I jump as if I’ve been electrocuted. James’ voice is clear as day.

  Startled, I glance around the shower. I swear it sounded like he was right here. My heart starts to beat faster as I push aside the floral shower curtain, expecting to see him standing there. I look around the bathroom. He’s not here, of course. I pull the curtain back and wrap my arms around myself. In my drug induced state my mind is playing tricks on me.

  Deciding that human interaction is what I need right now, I quickly finish the shower, throw on some cut-off jean shorts and an old WMU tee, and head downstairs. As I do, I twist my wet hair into a low knot.

  I find my mom curled on our suede beige couch reading. She looks up from The Flint Journal. “Feeling better?”

  “I think I’m still a little groggy,” I tell her. And I’m hearing voices, my mind adds.

  She frowns. “Apparently you needed some extra rest.”

  I shrug. “Maybe. I’m going to get something to eat. That will probably help.”

  “There’s Chinese in the refrigerator. Your dad got take out.”

  I nod and head to the kitchen. Inside the fridge I find a carton of almond chicken and a carton of fried rice. I set about plating it then place it in the microwave.

  My mom enters the kitchen. “So…”

  I look at her. “So?”

  “We need to talk.” She takes a seat on a stool at the island.

  I return my attention to the microwave, enter the time, and press start. “About?”

  “Well, for starters, I talked to Shel.”

  I turn around and lean against the stove.

  “Your dad and I think you need someone around who you can talk to, a friend to hang out with,” she says. “It might make you feel better.”

  “Haven’t I released enough emotion?” I ask sarcastically, referring to my recent meltdown. I never thought I was capable of screaming the way I did at the funeral home.

  She shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not.”

  I take in her pensive expression. “Listen, I’m sorry. I’m sorry for breaking down at the funeral and for yelling at you the other night. I didn’t mean it.”

  “You don’t have to apologize,” she leans one arm against the granite countertop. “I can’t tell you how angry I am with that witch Carol Davis for making you feel like you should be ashamed. What she said was uncalled for. You can erupt anyway you please.”

  Am I a volcano? I could be Mt. Vesuvius. I think of my bloody dream and fighting off my mother. Nothing like that has ever happened before.

  “You need to release your feelings; it’s not healthy to keep them trapped inside,” my mom says. “I’ve only seen you cry twice since this happened.”

  I study the floor next to the stove and direct my words to the wood instead of her compassionate face. “I’ve cried more than you know.”

  My mom sighs. “Your father and I don’t want you to feel like you can’t express your feelings. You don’t have to hide them. That might be why you had that nightmare. Shel agrees with me.”

  “So Shel is a psychologist now?” I smirk. “What happened to becoming an M.D.?”

  “Look,” my mother sets her palms against the counter. “Your father and I are worried. We know things will get better with time, but recent events…” she trails off. “We’re concerned as any parents would be. You sleep all the time. You haven’t left the house. You haven’t talked to your friends. You’re not eating…”

  I point toward the microwave. “I’m eating.”

  Her eyes soften. “Not regularly.” She hesitates. “You haven’t unpacked anything we brought home from school except your computer. Em, when’s the last time you said James’ name?”

  Where is she going with this? “It’s only been two weeks,” I whisper.

  “Honey, it’s been a month.”

  The realization startles me. The microwave beeps, but I don’t move to collect my food. What little appetite I had is gone. Has that much time really passed?

  “You’re becoming a shell of yourself,” she says and stands. She walks around the island and stops in front of me. “That’s why Shel is coming to stay for a few weeks. Longer if necessary.”

  I snap to. “No! Mom. I think she’s taking spring classes. I don’t want to inconvenience her.”

  “It’s been worked out,” she says and rubs my arm. “There is no inconvenience. Besides, Shel wants to help.”

  I stare at her. The last thing I want to do is expose Shel to my depression, if that’s what this is. Am I depressed? Or going nuts? A month of my lif
e has disappeared, and I just heard James’ voice in the shower.

  My mother places her hands on my shoulders. “I want you to know this is the first step. If we don’t see some of the old Emma back by the end of the summer, your dad and I will look into therapy.”

  It’s one thing to question my own sanity. It’s quite another to have my parents and best friend do so behind my back. “Why?” My expression twists. “I’m not losing it! I’m not crazy!”

  I think.

  “I didn’t say you were,” my mom remains calm. “But, we need to find a way to cope with this. James was part of our family. He’s been hanging around this house since you two were ten. It would help us all…your dad, me, even Mike, to talk about him.”

  “So what’s stopping you? Reminisce all you want.” I need to check my harsh tone. I know my parents only want what’s best for me.

  “The last time anyone mentioned James, other than right now in this moment, you went into some sort of trance,” her kind eyes narrow. “Do you remember what happened after the Davis’ left?”

  I look away from her as I think back. Things are blurry, probably due to the pill she gave me after my nightmare. “You found me on the stairs. Then I went to bed.”

  Her voice wavers. “Dad had to carry you to bed. You wouldn’t move; it was like your muscles were locked. Sweetie, you kept saying the accident was your fault. Why would you say that? How could you think that? You cried yourself to sleep.”

  My eyes sting and I slam them shut to prevent the tears from falling. It doesn’t work and a few drops tumble down my cheek. I can’t tell her why I’m the reason James is no longer with us. It’s too painful.

  Her fingers leave my shoulders, brush beneath my eyes, and smear my tears. There’s no way she can catch them all and they continue to fall and roll down my face. She gives up and wraps me in a warm hug instead.

  “James fell asleep at the wheel,” she says softly, yet holds me tight. “There’s nothing you could have done.”

  That’s not true. There’s one thing I could have done. One thing I should have done.

  My mom allows me to cry against her. She doesn’t ask questions. She doesn’t press the therapy issue or talk about Shel’s upcoming stay. She just holds me and strokes my hair like I’m a little girl again.