“Sure,” I said, baffled. Was he trying to keep me off guard on purpose?
My next class was my least favorite class – not because of content, but because of location. It was on top of Bacomb Hill, a pretty ambitious climb - especially in the morning when I needed my energy just to stay awake, let alone hike up a hill.
We started up the tree-lined path at almost a trot, much faster than my normal pace. The trees, leaves long gone, waved their bare branches at us. Fat squirrels searched for leftovers while equally robust rabbits scampered about. All the animals that lived on campus were fat and tame – squirrels would perch right next to students on the grassy hill, waiting to be hand-fed. And the ducks – they had long crossed the tameness line and were fairly ravenous: one could lose an arm, eating in front of them.
David continued to smile. “Did you get my gift this morning?”
At least he saved me the trouble of bringing it up. “Yes, I did. We need to talk about that.”
He frowned. “Why? Didn’t you like it?”
I shook my head, my breath starting to wheeze in my throat. “No, that’s not the problem. Can you slow down a bit?”
David’s stride never changed. “Then there’s nothing to talk about. I’d hoped to find you wearing it this morning.”
I began to cough. “David, I can’t accept it. It’s way too expensive for the point we’re at in our relationship. Can you please slow down?”
“What do you mean you can’t accept it? Of course you can. It’s my gift to you.”
Was it my imagination, or was he walking even faster? “But it’s too much. That’s the problem.” I started coughing in earnest, my chest clogging up. I wanted to ask him to slow down again, but I couldn’t catch my breath.
“Look, Kit. I didn’t give you that present to make you uncomfortable. I gave it to you to show you how special I think you are and how much our relationship already means to me. I know we only met last week, but I already feel like I’ve known you much, much longer. I wanted you to know how I felt, and also I wanted to apologize for sending you sixty-five roses.”
“You already apologized for the sixty-five roses. You paid for dinner last night,” I said between coughs. “Can you please slow down?” We had almost reached the top of the hill, which was good because I could feel the mucus rising up my throat. My chest burned.
“Yes, but I didn’t feel like I really let you know how sorry I was for that misunderstanding and how much I already care about you.”
I couldn’t answer him. We had finally arrived at Bacomb Hall, and I hurried to the bathroom, coughing the entire time.
Locking myself in a stall, I prayed nobody would pay any attention to me hacking up the mucus in my lungs. It was terribly embarrassing. Usually I could make it up Bacomb Hill with only a little coughing, I kept myself in pretty good shape, walking and with yoga. But this was too much for me.
“Asthma,” I offered as an explanation to the women gathered in front of the mirrors. The concern in their eyes turned to sympathy. I left the bathroom, chest aching, and found David waiting for me.
“Are you okay?” he asked, deep concern in his eyes.
I grabbed his arm and yanked him to the side, away from the crowd. “Why the hell didn’t you slow down? You know I can’t exert myself that much.”
“I thought you were supposed to exercise more to strengthen your lungs.”
I glared at him. “Yes, you’re supposed to exercise, but not like that. You must know that.”
He held his hands up in supplication. “No, I didn’t. I thought you wanted a good workout.”
“A good workout?” I half-yelled, unable to keep my voice down. “I asked you to slow down three times!”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I didn’t hear you.”
“You heard me cough.”
“I thought that was normal.”
Was he trying to make me crazy? What the hell did he want? I could feel a blood vessel in my head start to pound. “Whatever. I have to get to class.”
He reached out to touch me. “What about tonight? You want to grab something to eat, then do some studying?”
It took every bit of willpower to turn and face him. I just wanted to get away. This situation was becoming entirely too weird for me. I needed to think, to try and figure out what the hell was going on here. “Not tonight,” I lied. “I have plans.”
He looked hurt. “What kind of plans?”
“What business is it of yours?” is what I wanted to say. Instead, politeness reared its proper head and I said, “A study group. I’ll be busy most of the night.”
“Then how about tomorrow?”
I started edging away. “Look, I have to get to class. I’ll call you later.” I ducked into the crowd before he could protest again. Hurrying up the steps to the second floor, I ran into the bathroom, rubbing my sore chest. I needed time to pull myself together – besides, I had this irrational fear he would follow me to class, begging for an answer.
Why the hell did I allow him to drag me up the hill in the first place? I should have just stopped. Too polite for my own good. Maybe I should be asking what was wrong with me.
Along with a place to hide, the bathroom also offered an unexpected benefit – a receptacle to throw out my untouched coffee and croissants. I suddenly had this vision of him pulling the food out of the trash in the hall and running after me yelling, “You forgot to eat this!” Right now that didn’t strike me as the slightest bit far-fetched.
Chapter 9
“So, let me get this straight.” Elena picked at her salad with her fork. “David has given you several dozen roses, an expensive piece of jewelry, taken you out for dinner twice and met you at class with coffee and croissants in hand, and you find this unacceptable behavior.”
We were eating lunch at the student Union, surrounded by the dull roar of conversation, laughter and U2.
I forced myself to swallow a bite of cheeseburger. Although losing my appetite wasn’t unusual during stressful times, I had to maintain my current weight so I selected the most fattening thing I could find. Not to mention nibbling more than usual on cheese, trail mix, peanut butter and crackers and nuts throughout the day. I had learned early on the dangers of becoming too thin – sickness.
“You don’t think it’s the slightest bit of creepy that he accessed my school records?”
Elena shrugged. “He’s a computer geek, right?”
“Well, yeah.”
“That’s what computer geeks do. Take it as a sign of love.”
I dipped a fry into some ketchup. Next to us, a couple of girls burst into noisy giggles. “Yes, but what about him not slowing down while we were walking? You know I’m subject to asthma attacks when I exert myself too much.”
Elena speared a piece of lettuce and gazed longingly at my lunch. “Maybe he really didn’t hear you.”
“The coughing should’ve been a big clue.”
“Nobody should ever accuse boys of being observant.”
“Yes, but this goes beyond that. It’s borderline creepy. At least that’s the way it feels to me. It honestly doesn’t strike you as the least bit odd?”
A couple of guys bumped into our table as they lumbered by, making everything shake. Elena steadied her Diet Coke. “All right. It does seem a little weird. He appears to be a bit heavy in the money-spending department and a bit short in the observant department. But maybe he’s trying to impress you and doesn’t know any other way to do it. Are you trying to tell me you don’t find this even the teensiest bit romantic?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered, making myself eat more cheeseburger. When Elena put it like that, my fears sounded almost silly. But only almost. Elena didn’t understand the full implication of the roses, nor had she experienced the altered church dream after the dates. She also hadn’t seen the creepy, shiny light
in his eyes when I asked him to slow down the third time. Almost like he enjoyed seeing me cough. Even now it chilled me. But how could I possibly explain all that to Elena?
“Okay, maybe you’re right. Maybe I am overreacting. But I’m curious; who invited him to that party anyway?”
Elena shrugged and nibbled at her lettuce. “Who knows? Who invites anyone to those parties?”
“How did you meet him?”
Elena thought about it. “You know, I can’t really remember.”
I smothered another fry with ketchup. “Great.”
“I’m sure it was your usual, run-of-the-mill party meeting, nothing too terribly sinister.”
“No, of course not,” I said. Across the room, under the arch that provided the exit and entrance to the dining area, a woman stood talking to a group of people. Long, wavy blond hair drifted down her back, golden against her dark brown coat.
“Look, Kit, this isn’t brain surgery,” Elena continued to speak, although I only had half my attention on her, the other on that oh-so-familiar blond hair. “If what he’s doing bothers you, tell him to stop. No big thing. I’m sure if you told him you didn’t like expensive gifts, he’d stop giving them to you.”
That hair tantalized me. I flashed to the woman at the party who called herself Cat. “Elena, do you remember seeing a girl at the Halloween party wearing a fairy costume?”
“Fairy costume?”
The woman half turned toward me, and I leaned forward to catch a glimpse of her face. “Yeah, fairy costume. You know, something out of a fairy tale, pink fluffy dress, wings, that sort of thing.”
“Nooo, I can’t say I recall anyone wearing a pink fluffy dress and wings. Kit, what are you looking at?”
The woman said goodbye to the people, adjusted her books and tossed her thick curls out of the way. At that moment, I saw her face.
It was definitely the woman at the party. Cat.
And then she was gone, disappearing down the hallway.
I stood up so fast I knocked my chair over. “I’ll be right back,” I said over my shoulder and started weaving through tables and chairs and people, all seeming set at odd angles. I had to backtrack twice before finally reaching the entrance.
She was nowhere in sight.
It must have been the same woman I saw on Halloween. It looked just like her.
Did that mean Cat really had returned? After all these years, could she really still be alive?
After searching the hallways and lobby with no success, I headed back to the table and a confused Elena.
“Uh, Kit,” Elena tapped her fork on the edge of the plate. “What just happened here?”
I straightened my chair and sat down. “I thought I saw that woman again. The one I asked you about.”
“The one in the fairy costume?”
“Yeah, that one.”
Elena stopped tapping her fork and regarded me like one would a cornered wild animal, cautious and unsure what its next move would be. “So, let me get this straight. You sprinted out of here to chase a woman you talked to once at a drunken Halloween party?”
God, did my life sound stupid. “Uh … yeah. But it was a very … odd encounter. That’s why I wanted to talk to her again.”
Elena leaned across the table. “Kit, what’s going on with you?”
I played with my napkin. “What do you mean?”
“I mean, first you break up with Tommy with no explanation to anyone. Then, you start accusing another guy you’re dating of being some kind of nutcase, because he’s showering you with attention. Now you’re chasing some woman through the Union who you talked to once at a party? And I haven’t even touched on how you’ve been all super-distracted and barely pay attention. You’re starting to scare me.”
I slumped in my chair. “It sounds worse than it is.”
Elena wiped her hands off with her napkin. “For your sake, I hope you’re right.” She started piling her dishes, including her half-eaten salad, on her tray.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m cleaning up so I can get to class.”
“But we still have time before classes start.”
Elena paused, one hand poised in mid-air, and stared at me. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on?”
I rubbed my temples, swinging my hair so it concealed my face. “I thought I did,” I said weakly.
Elena went back to cleaning up. “Yeah, well, I have to get to class.”
I reached over to clasp her arm. “Elena, stop. I’m not trying to be difficult. It’s just hard to explain.”
Elena looked directly into my eyes. “Try me.”
I sucked in my breath, trying to form the words, but they eluded me. I wanted to tell her, but I couldn’t see myself blurting out the secrets of my life between classes at the Union. “I will,” I said finally. “But not here, not now. Just give me a little time to sort things out. Okay?”
Elena sighed and stared down at her tray, her partially eaten salad staring back at her. “All right,” she said, meeting my eyes and smiling a little. “I can do that. We’ll talk soon, okay?”
I nodded. She picked up her tray and left. I studied the remains of my lunch and suddenly remembered Elena had mentioned she had something to talk to me about. Some friend I was. I had never gotten around to asking her about it.
***
I left the Union and went home, skipping all of my afternoon classes. Why bother? I knew I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.
I closed the off-white drapes and lay on the lumpy couch with a wet cloth draped over my eyes. Horrible headache.
After a while, Jezzy settled herself purring on my stomach.
My muddled thoughts whirled through my head, scattering the old comforting ideas of how my life worked. Was that woman at the party really Cat, my sister Cat, returned from the fairies or whoever had kidnapped her? Was that who I saw today at the Union? But how did she know the things she did? How did she know about my dreams? And why did she warn me of danger?
And what about David? Was it coincidence I met him after the warning or was he the danger? And what about this Jeckyl-and-Hyde inconsistent bullshit? One minute, Dr. Charming and the next Mr. Asshole?
To top it all off, none of my friends took me seriously. Well, to be fair, maybe they would if I told them the truth. But I had built my life behind a wall of secrets and misdirection. While I kept outright lies to a minimum, I had become a master at evasion. How could I tell people the truth now? How would I even start? Would they take me seriously then? Would they believe me? Maybe I didn’t believe me. This whole past week was starting to take on an unreal, dreamlike quality, like reality had simply gotten off at the last bus stop, before the Halloween party, and left me with a leering monster masquerading as my new boyfriend, a fairy sister granting me nightmares instead of wishes, and the faint but unmistakable sound of wolves’ howling.
The click of a key unlocking the deadbolt jolted me out of my thoughts. I held my breath, hoping it was Martha. I willed her to clump down to her bedroom without disturbing me. No such luck – Brandi’s distinctly lighter tread tripped up the stairs.
First a pause, then Brandi’s disembodied voice floated across the room. “You’ve taken up performance art I see. Let me guess, this is your rendition of Life. I bet you call it ‘In the Dark.’”
Jezzy leaped off my stomach. “You’re funny.”
I heard another click and the darkness under my lids lightened to a maroon color. I caught of whiff of her musky perfume. “So, what is this?” she asked.
“Performance art. You already guessed.”
“Your creativity certainly knows no limits. Are you sick or something?”
Sighing, I rolled over and removed the washcloth from my eyes. “I wish. It’d be simpler if I were.”
Brandi swung her book bag off her shoulder and knelt to pet Jezzy. “Did you talk to David?”
“Sort of.” I sat up. “He showed up after my psych class and walked me to English.”
“How romantic.”
I flung the washcloth on the floor. “That’s what Elena said. It’s not romantic. It’s creepy. He looked up my schedule on the computer and found me.”
Brandi raised her eyebrows. “Really. So what did he say about the jewelry?”
“Just that he wanted show me how special I was.”
“Hmmm.” Jezzy sauntered away and Brandi sat down in the orange-brown chair, crossing her legs. When we had first moved in, Brandi had spent the better part of an hour pacing around the living room with its mud brown paneled walls, industrial brown carpet and hideous furniture, trying to decide if it was worth it to redecorate. Eventually she decided it wasn’t. “I swear that cat likes you more than me. So, Elena thinks this is romantic.”
“Actually, she thinks I’m overreacting.”
Brandi nodded. The vee-neck of her black sweater set off the delicate diamond and gold necklace “Yeah, I can see that.”
“So, you think I’m overreacting as well? What about this morning when you said he could be an obsessive stalker?”
Brandi scooped up the mail and began thumbing through it. “Obsessive stalker is still a possibility. Another one is that you’re overreacting. And a third possibility is that you’re blowing this whole David thing way out of proportion because you want a reason to get back together with Tommy.”
“Stop anytime you want with the Tommy references. The sooner the better, I might add. I swear, you and Elena have been worse about this breakup than Tommy has.”
Brandi sighed, separating one envelope from the rest. “Probably because we both want to see true love win in the end.”
I twisted my hair in a ponytail and snorted. “You? Right. Maybe Elena, but the only reason you’d be kissing frogs is because of the prince’s money.”
Brandi clucked her tongue. “That’s harsh, Kit. And entirely untrue. Haven’t you heard? It’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor one.” She hurled an envelope at me. “Your Sugar Daddy has graduated to love letters. Maybe it really is true love.”
The Stolen Twin Page 6