Dark and Twisted

by Heidi Acosta

  This is why I refuse to participate in forced physical education. It’s my silent protest against the unjustness that plagues today’s youth.

  A red ball pelts Eddie in the face, the spot turns an angry shade of red instantly. “You’re out.” Coach yells at Eddie, “Go get ice and sit down.” Eddie gets a pack from the cooler and lumbers over to me. A drop of his sweat lands on my cheek. Ewww. He looks at me and grunts something incoherent.

  I wipe the sweat off my cheek, and go back to working on my novel, but I don’t get far because the deep-throated sobs coming from Eddie is making it hard to concentrate. Releasing a long sigh, I blow my bangs off my forehead.

  “Are you okay Eddie?” I set my notebook and pen down next to me.

  Eddie stares straight ahead, his large bottom lip quivering. For someone so big, he sure is a baby.

  “It’s okay, Eddie. No one cares that you suck at dodge ball.” Lie. The elite of this school is known for picking apart the weak, perhaps because it’s such a small school and they have nothing better to do with their time.

  Eddie’s face is starting to turn purple.

  “Here, give me that. You’re doing it wrong.” I hold out my hand, and Eddie deposits the wet plastic bag into my palm. I snap the inside contents and shake it until it starts to grow cold. “Now keep it here.” I press the cold pack on his bruising cheek. A big, fat tears fall down his round cheeks. “Don’t cry. Come on, they will see you.” I nod over my shoulder, and sure enough, a little rat is straining to see what is happening in our direction.

  “Eden nice,” Eddie mumbles. “Eddie like Eden.” He smiles, but the tears still fall, mixing with the snot that is running down his nose.

  I cringe. “Eddie, you really shouldn’t be crying. Does it really hurt that bad?”

  He nods his head yes. I try to keep my body in front of him so that he will not be seen. Thank goodness he is sitting down, or it would be impossible. Luckily, the only thing that can be seen is his messy brown hair. Not cute messy hair like Cardelian’s, but more on the side of ‘I just woke up and really didn’t brush my hair, so one side is a big rat nest’ messy.

  “Oh, Eddie.” What am I going to do with him? I look over my shoulder at the pack of rats that have formed behind us, and they are starting to get closer. Crap. “Eddie, right now there’s a group of kids behind us that would love nothing more than to paint the halls with your pain, so please stop crying,” I beg. Unfortunately, this does not help. My words make him cry harder and the snot to come out faster. To top it off, he’s sniffling loudly.

  Great, why can’t I just mind my own business and worry about myself? It really doesn’t matter if the creep runs back and tells the whole school about the sniveling mess Eddie is. It’s not as if he is going to win the popularity contests any time soon, but I can’t stand the thought of anyone hurting this gentle beast.

  “Eddie wants his mommy,” he wails.

  It’s always the big ones that want their mommies. I peel off my sweatshirt, exposing my pink T-shirt with the cat in a straw hat on it and a bouquet of roses in its paws. Just my luck that today is laundry day, I wasn’t planning to take my sweatshirt off.

  “Nice shirt,” Juliet cackles as she passes by us.

  I ignore the fits of giggles from her and her hordes of followers and start to clean Eddie’s face with my sweatshirt. I can’t very well leave him here, exposed to the rats, while I go to get tissues. I start with his damp forehead and move to his eyes, then yes, to his nose, which takes a few wipes to clean up all the boogers he’s producing.

  Gross.

  “Momma sings to Eddie when Eddie is sad. Sing to Eddie.” He sucks a long trail of snot back into his nose.

  Thank goodness for my strong gag reflexes. “No, Eddie, I don’t think so.”

  “Sing. Sing. Sing,” Eddie chants, clapping his hands together.

  “Shhh. Okay, fine, just be quiet.” I clear my voice and sing very softly, attempting to not draw any more attention than we already have.

  “Hush little bird, dry your tears, everything will be okay,” I sing like my mother used to sing when I was younger.

  “Eddie can’t hear. Louder,” he shouts.

  Thanks, Eddie. So much for trying to keep us from being noticed. I listen to his demand and sing louder.

  “Hush little bird, dry your tears, everything will be okay. Your wings are brand new and you are just learning to fly,” I sing off key.

  “Louder. Louder. Eddie like,” Eddie chants, clapping his hands together.

  The gym falls silent, and I can feel all eyes are on my back, burning holes into me. “Your wings are new, and you are just learning to fly,” I belt as loud and off key as possible.

  Eddie claps and kicks his feet out from under him slamming them on to the gym floor.

  “Hey! Hey! This is not freaking Glee. This is the fine art of Physical Education, and if you’re not going to take it seriously, then you’re to sit on that bench, and no singing!” Coach bellows.

  I don’t have time to respond because I’m swept up into Eddie’s enormous arms. He squeezes me, and my ribs feel like they might crack in his grip. He dances us in a circle, singing his own version of the song. A cold sweat drips down my back and an uneasy feeling settles over me. Then I see him as we go around. Pale blue eyes in the corner of the gym watching us. No, watching me.

  Jaxson.

  Chapter Four

  We spin around again, and this time around, Jaxson is gone. When Eddie eventually puts me down, I gather up my belongings and go after Jaxson. I push open the side doors, a wall of icy air hits me in the face. It gets cold in Copake Falls, but it’s unusually cold this year. Ever since the foster brothers showed up, the threat of snow has been looming over us.

  I rub my arms and power walk in the direction I think he went. If he is cutting class, there is only one place to go to stay out of the view of teachers: the wall next to the football field.

  My mind spins with the information I learned from Cardelian. He said things with Jaxson are complicated. He was so vague, my I mind jumps between conclusions, and it wouldn’t be the first time. I just know there is more to Jaxson than the typical, anguished teenage boy. There is a story behind him, and who better to find out his story than me.

  I jog to the wall, and the closer I get, the colder it seems to become. When I round the corner, I almost smack right into Jaxson. The hood of his jacket casts his face in shadows, making him seem dangerous. I slowly drag my eyes to his face until I’m looking into the palest blue eyes I have ever seen. The color makes him seem other worldly, they pierce me to core. Ice runs though me, and I want to look away, but his gaze holds mine. My heart clashes against my ribs and fear grips me in a warning.

  “Oh, sorry.” I suck in a sharp breath and take a few steps backwards.

  He looks like he is ready to pounce.

  “I didn’t know anyone would be out here.” I give him my best innocent smile. “I always come out here to … to …”

  I take in Jaxson one more time. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. The only color in his wardrobe comes from a silver chain draped around his neck that is clasped together with a padlock and several other chains hanging from his pockets. He brings his long fingers to his lips, taking a drag from a cigarette. His black gloves are cut crooked and the yarn is frayed on the ends.

  He brings his long fingers to his lips, taking a drag from a cigarette. His black gloves are cut crooked and the yarn is frayed on the ends.

  “I came out here to smoke,” I blurt out.

  He cocks one perfect brow at me as if seeing right through my facade.

  “Nothing like some fresh air and a good smoke to get the morning going.” I swing my arms, making large hand gestures, and bring my fingers to my lips pretending to smoke. “You know how it is …. Sometimes, the stress of being in high school, I’m just like ‘gosh its stressful I just need to smoke.’ Yep, every time I get a chance, I get my smoke on.”

  I rock back and
forth on my heels, and he gives me a look that says he’s not buying it, but he’s not leaving, and that’s a good sign. “Yeah, I smoke all the time. I’m a two pack a day kind of girl.” I dig around in my bag, pretending to look for cigarettes. “Where did those little sticks of relief go?”

  Why did I come out here? Curiosity I guess. Curse my author nature. I’m totally doing a character study on him. Yep, that’s the only reason I came out here.

  “I can’t seem to find my pack. Can I get one of those?” I ask.

  He pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and lights one before handing it over. I stare at the menacing, glowing stick of cancer in his fingers. Every lecture from health class, poster, and commercial I have ever seen runs through my head, but I take it from him anyway. His cold eyes stare at me, waiting to see what I’m going to do. Daring me.

  I look at the cigarette in my hand like I can get sick from just the touch. I have never smoked a cigarette in my life, but today seems like a good time to start. I smile and pull the death cloud into my cheeks, carefully trying not to inhale it.

  Yuck, how can anyone do this? It tastes like I’m smoking dirty socks.

  “Mmm. Just what I needed.” I smile and blow out the smoke. Gross, gross, gross. “Have you been smoking long, or is this a new hobby of yours?” I ask. I can feel the poison already soaking into my lungs.

  Will I become an addict instantly, or will it take some time? How soon will it be before I’m swindling my aunt’s life savings away just to get a pack of cigarettes?

  He gives me another pointed look and takes a deep drag. I follow suit and almost cough up a lung. Now I know how a cat feels when they get a fur ball. Taking a deep drag, he holds it before exhaling slowly. Smoke curls up around him before disappearing into the atmosphere.

  “So, I have been puffing on the ol’ cancer stick since I was a kid.” Oh, my god what is wrong with me? “Lung cancer is all the rage these days.”

  I can’t seem to stop myself, and he is clearly not amused at all. Nothing, not even a smirk from Mr. Moody. I take another drag and try to think about all of those undercover reporters that do all sorts of things like sleep with the enemy or dress in drag. Anything for the story.

  Smoking is not that dangerous, right? Why am I trying to dig for a story anyway … so that I have an excuse to talk to him? I’m walking a dangerous line. What am I saying? I’m already out in the middle, dangling from the wire. He doesn’t want to talk to me, obviously, but I can’t seem to stop myself. What is it about a bad boy that good girls like me find irresistible? Maybe that can be my new pitch for my next story. I can hear Ralph shooting it down already. “So how do you like Copake Falls?” I try to break the ice and get him talking.

  “Fine.”

  Okay, Mister Chatty McChatterson is the silent type.

  Can you get cheek cancer from cigarettes? “So … are you making a lot of friends?”

  He raises his brows again and disdain practically drips off him. We both know that he has no desire to make friends, and the feeling is mutual between him and the student body.

  “I bet you had a lot of friends back … where exactly is it you are from? Man, its cold out here.” I change my tactics from rocking back and forth to hopping from one foot to the other to keep warm.

  “Tons,” he says sarcastically. He drops the cigarette and grinds it into the ground with the tip of his sneaker and starts to walk away without a word.

  I need to stall him, to make him realize he wants to be my friend. “This was fun … Smoking. Will I see you the next smoke break?” Smoke break? What was that? Are we working in an office? I inhale another cloud of black smoke, and it chokes off all of my oxygen. I start to cough—the hacking, gagging, about to lose my Lucky Charms kind of cough. Not at all cute, but then again, is smoking really ever cute? I really need to work on my undercover skills if I’m ever going to make it in the reporter world.

  “See you, Ace,” he mumbles before hurrying off towards the school. The air instantly seems too warm with his absence.

  ###

  “How many cigarettes do you need to smoke before you start to see signs of lung cancer?” I ask Liv as we shuffle down the lunch line. I reach for a chicken sandwich but put it back when Liv gives me the “eat it and die” look. I grab a wilted cheese sandwich instead.

  “I don’t know, why? Oh, my god, Eden, did you smoke a cigarette?” She leans forward, sniffing the air around me.

  “No.” I wave her back with my hands. “Okay, maybe, but it was just one,” I confess.

  “Eden, cigarettes kill. Just one can kill you! Do you know how long it takes to reverse the effects of smoking? Not to mention the countless animals who are killed every day from the testing that goes on inside the tobacco companies.”

  I shrug, my stomach turning, not only from the poison lurking in my body but from the thought of what a smoker’s lungs look like on the posters that hang in the girls’ locker room.

  “Why did you do it?” she scolds me as we shuffle a little farther down the line.

  “Did what?” Jamie comes up behind Liv and wraps his arms around her waist.

  “Our dear friend, Eden, is trying to kill herself by smoking. I’m just wondering why?”

  Jamie glances at me, and we share a look. He and I both know that we are not friends. The only reason he lowers himself to being seen with me is for Liv’s sake.

  “Oh, that’s because she was smoking with the new foster,” Jamie says, and leans in for a kiss, but Liv blocks him with a hand in the air.

  “Eden, you didn’t!”

  I give her an innocent look.

  “But why? You know that the fosters are nothing but trouble. Besides, he gives me the creeps.” She looks over to where Jaxson sits by himself, his head buried in a sketch book and pencil moving feverishly across the paper.

  What is he working on? I shiver and turn back to Liv.

  “How do you know it was Jaxson? Maybe I was with Cardelian. He’s a foster and doesn’t give you the creeps. You said he was hot,” I say.

  Jamie’s face falls. “You think Cardelian is hot?”

  Liv shoots me a death glare before placing her arms through Jamie’s. “Not as hot as you, babe.” She leans over and kisses him on the cheek, which seems to satisfy him.

  “It was Jaxson. Brett and Derrick saw you going out back with him. They also told me about the thing you got going on with Sweaty Eddie.” Jamie wiggles his eyebrows and reaches for the chicken sandwich. Liv slaps his hand, and he lets go of the chicken sandwich and takes a salad instead.

  “Eddie? What happened with Eddie?” Liv turns to me.

  “Wait, Derrick and Brett told you about Eddie today?” I ask, ignoring Liv.

  Jamie just shrugs like it’s no big deal, but it is. I’m okay with them talking about me. I can defend myself, but poor Eddie. That’s just low.

  “They are soulless creatures,” I grumble and grab a chocolate pudding cup.

  “They are desperate to be in the in-crowd, and they’ll do just about anything for a way in.” Jamie pops a cherry tomato in his mouth and shrugs again. “Even giving up dirt on you.”

  I frown at him, “but that doesn’t make it right,” I argue as I pay for my lunch.

  “He does have a point, Eden. I don’t agree with it, but that’s the way things work here in Copake Falls,” Liv chimes in.

  We sit down at our table, and I immediately go for my pudding cup, peeling off the lid and licking the chocolaty goodness. It helps a little with my bad mood.

  “You can’t get mad about it. That is just how cliques work, no matter where you’re from.”

  Liv begins to school me on what I already know, but I sit there like a good student and listen anyway.

  “Eden this is a small school, and when you add in the aspect of living in a small farm town in the middle of nowhere, with the high school body a whopping one hundred and ninety-two …” Liv trails off and glances around the room. “Then you have to start addin
g in bloodlines, and whose grandpapa is who? What family works for whose family,” Jamie picks up where Liv left off. “You see, Eden, it doesn’t necessarily matter how pretty your clothes are or who you’re friends with. If you’ve got a tainted family tree, well, then you will always be an outcast. Bad blood just doesn’t sit well with folks around here.” Jamie takes a huge bite out of his salad, Liv’s mouth drops open at Jamie’s comment.

  “I already knew all of this.” I can only begin to imagine what a social outcast my father was when he attended school here. Even my grandmother is not exempt from the shunning, and she is one of the wealthiest women in town. She practically disowned us and lives clear across town, yet she still gets looks and whispers behind her back. Why would anyone want to stay in a place where they’re not wanted and are mocked on a daily basis? It was like they were stuck by some sort of magical pull that kept my family from moving on. No longer hungry, I push my lunch tray away.

  Liv mouth snaps shut, and her words cut through my morbid thoughts. “Jamie, I can’t believe you would say that,” she gasps.

  “What? Babe, com’on. I’m just telling her the truth. Don’t be mad at me. It’s just how things are done around here. You can’t change them.”

  Liv folds her arms over her chest and glares at Jamie, but he doesn’t seem to notice because the football team is a few tables down, having a milk chugging contest.

  “Babe I gotta go.” Jumping up, he plants a kiss on the top of her head and goes to join in the fun.

  Liv stares after him as he jogs down the aisle. I watch, too, but not Jamie. I watch Derrick and Brett, who’re watching him with desperate looks. I can see the hunger that is never satisfied, no matter how many people they step on with their never-ending climb to a top they’ll never reach. I wonder if Jamie, or one of the other popular kids, told them that they’ll never be accepted. No matter what they did, it wouldn’t change how they treated people.