SEE ME, SEE ME NOT
by
Elodie Nowodazkij
SEE ME, SEE ME NOT Copyright © 2017 by Elodie Nowodazkij
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information, contact [email protected] or visit: www.elodienowodazkij.com
Photography by Lindee Robinson
Cover models: Kelly Kirstein & Travis Bendall
Book cover by Najla Qamber
First Edition: August 2017
Contents
Chapter One – Mellie
Chapter Two -Tessa
Chapter Three –Luke
Chapter Four - Tessa
Chapter Five - Luke
Chapter Six – Tessa
Chapter Seven - Luke
Chapter Eight – Mellie
Chapter Nine - Luke
Chapter Ten- Tessa
Chapter Eleven – Luke
Chapter Twelve - Tessa
Chapter Thirteen – Mellie
Chapter Fourteen -Luke
Chapter Fifteen - Tessa
Chapter Sixteen – Mellie
Chapter Seventeen – Luke
Chapter Eighteen - Tessa
Chapter Nineteen – Mellie
Chapter Twenty – Luke
Chapter Twenty-one - Tessa
Chapter Twenty-two – Luke
Chapter Twenty-three – Tessa
Chapter Twenty-four – Luke
Chapter Twenty-five – Mellie
Chapter Twenty-six – Tessa
Chapter Twenty-seven – Luke
Chapter Twenty-eight – Mellie
Chapter Twenty-nine – Tessa
Chapter Thirty – Luke
Chapter Thirty-one – Tessa
Chapter Thirty-two – Luke
Chapter Thirty-three – Tessa
Chapter Thirty-four – Mellie
Chapter Thirty-five – Tessa
Chapter Thirty-six – Luke
PART TWO
Chapter Thirty-seven – Tessa
Chapter Thirty-eight – Mellie
Chapter Thirty-nine – Luke
Chapter Forty – Tessa
Chapter Forty-one – Luke
Chapter Forty-two– Tessa
Chapter Forty-three – Luke
Chapter Forty-four – Tessa
Chapter Forty-five – Luke
Chapter Forty-six – Tessa
Chapter Forty-seven - Luke
Chapter Forty-eight – Tessa
Chapter Forty-nine – Mellie
Chapter Fifty – Luke
Three months later – Tessa
THE END
Thank you for reading!
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Sneak Peek
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2 – ERIN
CHAPTER 3 – DIMITRI
MORE BOOKS BY THE AUHOR
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For my sisters…
Miss perfection and the one from another universe from your tête fantomatique.
I love you.
<3
Chapter One – Mellie
“The Circle protects you from evil.”
(The Circle’s Book of Truth – Rule Nine)
“Evil doesn’t sleep, doesn’t rest, doesn’t forget.”
Jeremiah uses his soothing voice despite the threatening reminder that evil surrounds us, ready to pound on us and test us. The Book of Truth—technically the only book I’m allowed to read—reminds us that the Circle will be there for us. We can only rely on one another. The Circle is made of love and understanding. The Circle waits for us. We will join them as soon as Master Abram believes us to be ready. We will be cared for and saved.
Jeremiah is much taller than me and not as skinny, but he’s almost graceful as he slides next to me. So close that our shoulders touch.
“Evil doesn’t sleep, doesn’t rest, doesn’t forget,” he says again and I know what the next step is. I repeat after him. We use those words as a mantra, as a lullaby, as a goodnight prayer.
“Master Abram talked to me. He warned me,” he whispers, as if Master Abram is listening to us, and gently turns my chin to him. His fingers are warm and smell like the basil he’s growing outside. His feverish eyes bore into mine. “They’re close. You know what you need to do.”
I nod and we stand. His eyes dart from the small table standing in the middle of our only room to the door—like he’s expecting people to march through and tear us apart. Or maybe he’s worried Master Abram will storm in and shout at us like he often does. Last time, he yelled at Jeremiah for bringing me an old copy of Anne of Green Gables. I’d confessed to him it used to be my favorite book before being saved. Master Abram saw the book and slammed it on my face until my nose bled—forcing Jeremiah to watch.
“Evil knows.” His hand touches my cheek quickly and then he pulls me closer to him. My head barely reaches his shoulder. His shirt smells clean and fresh, in contrast with the filthy blouse he brought me last week. “Evil finds ways to test us.” His mouth is close to my ear.
He moves the old reddish carpet to the side and pulls the latch in the wooden floor right by the small table, revealing the place I’ve called home for several months.
“I won’t let them kill you.” His promise calms my erratic heart but I still shiver. This place holds my darkest secrets. What I’ve done can never be undone.
“I know,” I whisper back. Inch by inch I slide down, until my feet touch the uneven floor: a mix of dirt and gravel. It’s too small for me to stand. I can barely sit without scraping my head against the ceiling. I lie down. My fingers dig into the dirt. The ground is hard against my back. Panic sends sweat running down my spine. I force myself to pull air in, to push it out.
The musty smell used to make me gag. I’m used to it now.
I can do this.
His hand touches my forehead. “You trust me.” It’s not a question. He hands me a knife that I set beside me. My fingers touch the scar on my right wrist. A reminder that fighting Master Abram was stupid.
Jeremiah saved me from the world, from Master Abram and from myself.
The first days and my fear of him are long gone.
“What about her?” I croak. My mind fills with images of my sister dying. She needs to be saved too…before it’s too late. Like it is for my parents. Master Abram told me over and over again they are beyond redemption. Even though they don’t care about me like I thought did, I still sometimes miss them too.
“I promised you. I always keep my promises.” He smiles his usual reassuring smile—even though Master Abram told him he needed to be harder on me—and gives me an encouraging nod. His eyes linger on me for a few seconds, as if he’s burning every feature of my face into his memory.
And then he lowers the door. The latch clicks.
Darkness surrounds me.
I inhale deeply and then do the one thing that almost always calms me down. I sing the song he taught me years ago, the song we sometimes sing together, the song that reminds me I’m part of something so much bigger.
We were lost
But then the Circle found us
We were lost
But then the Circle saved us.
Chapter Two -Tessa
My sister Melanie disappeared six years, two weeks and thr
ee days ago.
Last week was her nineteenth birthday and our mobile home is still decorated with purple and pink balloons. Mom had gotten carrot cake at the store and we sang “Happy Birthday” to an empty chair. Mom hasn’t given up hope that we’re going to find her alive. Her hope propels her forward. Every breath she takes is for Melanie.
That’s what she told Dad, right before he left three years ago. “You need to get help,” he replied then hugged me tightly, whispering in my ear, “You can come with me.”
“I can’t,” I whispered back, tears tracking down my face. He cleared his throat several times, as if he was fighting to keep control of his own emotions. I’ll always remember the look on his face. Stricken and resigned.
Mom pops her head into my tiny bedroom. “Tessa, I’m going to work.” Her voice has the raspy tone of too many cigarettes. She’s quit ten times in the past six years.
I’ve never smoked—it would be bad for my vocal chords and I need them to perform as well as possible.
“How late are you working today?” I ask. Her shifts change often. Sometimes because she decides at the last minute she needs to go home. Sometimes, she realizes we really need more money.
“I’m scheduled until two but I’m going to try to grab a late evening shift.” She runs her fingers through her ponytail. Her hair—red, like mine—is curly and still a bit wet from her shower. The circles under her light brown, sometimes almost green, eyes seem deeper than yesterday. She probably spent another night talking to Miss Irma—the psychic of the stars, and overall scam artist. The dark blue jeans that used to hug her curves hang on her. Her green shirt is wrinkled, but no one will see it under her uniform.
The grocery store is the only job she’s managed to keep, and only because they’re flexible with her hours. Her eyes dart to the other side of the room, but they don’t linger. If she gets lost in looking at Mellie’s pictures, she’ll never get to work. “I’ll grab breakfast on my way out.”
She doesn’t ask what I’ll eat.
She doesn’t ask me about my important rehearsal today. Instead, she twists her hands like she’s in need of a cigarette and attempt a smile. “Don’t forget to take Buster out before you go to school.” Our beagle mix struts into my bedroom and jumps on my bed, wagging his brown and white tail. I bring him closer to me for a cuddle, but he has other ideas and tries to slobber all over my face. I giggle at the way he tilts his head to the side when I push him away. It’s his I-don’t-understand-I’m-so-cute tilt.
“Look.” I turn, knowing Buster can get a smile out of her, but she’s already gone.
I should be used to it.
But like her, I’m a sucker for hope.
Buster stretches and I rub his belly before standing and crossing the three steps to the other side of my room. Our mobile home is so much smaller than our old house. Dad chips in as much as he can, but psychics and charlatans are expensive.
I inhale deeply, get a pair of boyfriend jeans and a black tank top from the small, overcrowded closet that holds both my and Melanie’s clothes: her old ones and the few outfits Mom buys for her every year in case she comes back. The room smells like her too, her bubblegum perfume. Mom keeps a supply of it in the bathroom closet and sprays it on Melanie’s pillow every day.
Like every morning, I plop myself on her bed. Buster jumps next to me and lays his head on my lap. His big brown eyes are full of sorrows. Do they mimic mine?
I run my hand over the bright purple comforter Melanie convinced my parents she had to have.
“Luke and I studied until late at the library last night.” I imagine Mellie smiling, teasing me about him being my first kiss ever. “Luke’s starting work at The Flying Pig tomorrow. I have to train him, show him how everything works. That means spending even more time with him.”
My eyes find the pictures from that summer on her wall. Luke and I grin at each other. It was his first summer at his uncle’s and we became fast friends. We were ten years old and we were always thinking about ways to annoy our sisters. That day, we were about to put a frog in his sister’s shirt. When he left without saying goodbye, I cried for hours. He had promised to send letters and I never got any. I sent three to the address I had but they all came back. Almost seven years later, he’s back in Gavert City, back in my life, back in my heart.
On the next picture, Mellie’s smile is bright and she has her arm around me. Both of our shirts are pink with the words Sisters forever.
My throat tightens but I keep on talking. “I wonder if we’ll ever be more than friends. Or even true friends again. We both hold back. When we were ten, he wanted to be a magician. Now he wants to be a social worker, but when I asked him why, he closed up. As always.” I stare at another picture of Mellie: singing with a concentrated frown on her face. “I miss you,” I whisper. My heart squeezes and I blink rapidly. I stand and roll my head from one side to the other, calming down.
I always miss Mellie, but sometimes it’s like that wave you don’t expect at the beach. It rolls around you and brings you down, making it impossible to breathe.
Buster whines and bumps his nose into my legs. I bring my fingers to my lips and touch Melanie’s pillow. “I have to go. I’m rehearsing and then meeting with Mrs. Reymer. She’s going to tell me if I made it to the final three for the junior scholarship.” I close my eyes, trying to remember my sister’s voice. We used to sing together. Mom plays old videos of us putting up shows for her and Dad every week. Mellie’s singing was even better than mine but she wanted to be an astronaut. She wanted to swim with the stars. Some nights, we’d go on a roof and sing to the stars.
I take a deep breath, forcing myself to get up. I can’t be late. Not today. “I love you.”
One of the pink balloons from Mellie’s birthday party limps on the floor. I pick it up but instead of throwing it in the trash, I open one of our messy drawers in the kitchen and gently put it inside. Buster’s wagging his tail. I grab the leash and his harness and together, we head outside. It’s not even six on Friday. The sun isn’t out yet. The air smells like a mix of coffee and grass. I walk faster, not wanting to remember the day Mellie disappeared. The air smelled the same.
Luckily, Buster is pretty quick in the morning.
“Do you want a treat?”
He can barely sit long enough for me to take a treat out of the ziplock bag I always take with me. I hurry back inside, grateful Mom left me some coffee, and grab an oatmeal bar and pack the turkey sandwich I made last night with a pouch of apple juice.
In front of the mirror, I hesitate for a second: my mascara is a must, but should I add a touch of eyeliner?
There’s no point.
Dating isn’t part of the plan. The one guy I could fall for isn’t looking at me in that way, and my track record has been shitty to say the least.
My one and only steady boyfriend—Connor—left me when Mom asked him if he would participate in a séance with one of her psychics, right after we moved into the trailer. That was one hell of a shitty week. And then there’s Kenneth. Kenneth and his lies. Kenneth and his stupid bet with his stupid friends. I’m not sure why he’s so keen on bringing me down. I beat him at a spelling bee contest his dad had told everyone he would win years ago, and Connor beat his swimming record while we were dating. In his mind, that must have meant he needed to get back at me, making me believe in a fairy-tale evening.
Asshole. And definitely not worth getting angry over. I take a deep breath, give a snuggle to Buster and triple check I’ve locked every window and every door before heading out.
The heat is already heavy for early spring, even for Texas.
“On your way to school, Tessita?” Mrs. Fernandéz calls from her trailer across from ours. Her gray hair is up in a chignon and she’s wearing a long blue dress with a light robe on top of it. She’s always up at the crack of dawn. Her back’s been bothering her and the next chiropractor is over an hour away. She’s got an appointment next week.
“Yes. My former c
hoir teacher has been helping with a song I can present for a scholarship.”’
“Oh, that’s right. The junior scholarship, right?”
She remembers more than Mom.
“That’s the one.”
Mrs. Fernandéz’s been one of my best friends since we moved in this trailer park. She’s in her eighties and has no family of her own. She’s the adopted grandmother of Diego—a friend from school who works with me at The Flying Pig too. She used to watch him when his mom was working late. They go to the same church and his mom’s been begging her to move in with them.
“I’m working tonight at the gas station but if you need anything, I can bring it to you after school.”
“I’m okay. Thank you. But you have a good day. And don’t worry about Buster—I’ll go get him so he’s not alone all day.”
“Thank you so much!” I reply with a smile I don’t have to force. She always takes care of Buster, knowing we can’t afford to have someone walk him during the day.
“He keeps me company too. Say hi to Diego and tell him to stop worrying. And you be young for me, okay?” Mrs. Fernandéz asks like she always does.
I nod and wave as I hop into my old Honda. My eyes scan the fields behind our trailer. It’s not far from our old home, but if Mellie were alive, would she know where to find us? Would she be mad at me? Would she forgive me for hiding when she got dragged into the car?
I shake my head in a failed attempt to clear my overcrowded mind.
I can’t go down that path. I need to work, save more money, get that scholarship. Without it, I’m not sure my college fund will be enough for school.
I can’t stand there wondering what could have been.
I can’t change the past.
If I could, I’d turn back time and save my sister.
Chapter Three –Luke
Sweat trickles down my forehead. I punch the bag harder and harder but I’m still way too keyed up.
I woke up screaming from nightmares. Nightmares I thought were long gone. Nightmares I want to forget. Nightmares that resemble memories.
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