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Messed Up

Page 15

by Owens, Molly


  When class finally ended I swiftly put my drawings away so as not to attract the scorn or pity of my fellow classmates. We then loitered around the classroom waiting for Mr. Miller to be alone. Conner nudged me when Mr. Miller started shutting the blinds.

  “That was a great class,” I said, attempting to sound casual. Mr. Miller stopped what he was doing and looked at us, smiling.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that Chelsea, I thought you seemed a little distracted.” Crap.

  “Yeah. You know how it is sometimes,” I mumbled, “Hey, Mr. Miller. I was hoping I could ask you a really massive favor.”

  He looked at me thoughtfully, “Sure. What is it?”

  “I’ve been thinking about how helpful it would be for me to have my portfolio from Montecito for this class,” I paused, “Is there any way you could let me into your classroom on your way home tonight?”

  “Sure, I need to get a couple things from my room anyway,” he said pulling down the last of the blinds.

  “Really? Thanks so much! You’re a superstar Mr. M,” I said with way too much enthusiasm.

  “My pleasure. You want to just meet me over there in about fifteen minutes?”

  “Yeah. Great!” Conner pulled me out of the room before I started hugging Mr. Miller out of joyous relief.

  Conner followed me in his truck over to the school. The plan was for him to park on a side street and walk over to the art room. He was going to hide in the A-4 breezeway until he heard me and Mr. Miller enter the classroom. He would then sneak through the supply closet and into the main office. Conner would find the file and hang out there until he heard us leave. He’d count to a hundred and then slip out of the door. We would meet at my house to go through our contraband.

  I sat in my car in the Montecito parking lot waiting for Mr. Miller. I thought about the last time I had been there on the last day of school. Kids had happily streamed out to their cars, exuberant with the promise of three months of freedom. The lot now sat abandoned, dark and lonely, with no sign of life.

  How different my life had been the last time I’d crossed the cracking asphalt to my car. I had been overcome with grief at Hannah’s impending departure. I didn’t know how I would survive without her constant presence. I certainly had never imagined it would be like this. That was before I’d ever laid eyes on Levi, my heart still belonged to me. My decisions were not controlled by the overwhelming need to keep Levi from ever leaving me, to never feel the crushing pain of his rejection.

  The last time I had laid my eyes on the expansive sprawl of my suburban high school, I hadn’t met Conner either. I hadn’t had a clue that such a caring and compassionate soul could live within the skin of an adolescent boy. I could not have imagined that such a deep friendship was even possible with a person of the opposite sex.

  I was certain that if Hannah hadn’t moved away my life would look completely different. I wouldn’t be sitting in my car contemplating doing something that could potentially end in disaster. I wouldn’t be scared out of my mind that my foolish actions may have led to the disappearance, or worse, of Toby Fanning. But would I take any of it back, including Hannah’s move, if it meant not knowing Levi? This was the question that was torturing me when Mr. Miller tapped on my window.

  We walked to his classroom chatting about the weather. It had been so hot, the drought was a real problem, the reservoirs were low, blah blah blah. Why is it that adults are always talking about the weather like it signifies the end times?

  He unlocked his classroom door. I made a unnecessarily loud comment about how clean it looked without students, as a signal to Conner that we were inside. The art portfolios were kept in a large rack against the wall opposite to the supply closet. My heart was beating like a rabbit’s foot scratching a flop ear, as I fumbled through my fellow classmate’s work. Thankfully, Mr. Miller was immersed in something at his desk, his back to the door. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of Conner dashing, soundlessly through the room and to the open closet. I breathed a silent sigh of relief.

  “How do you know Conner?” Mr. Miller asked. My heart jumped to my throat, I’m sure I almost chomped on an artery. Did he see him?

  “We met at a party,” I stammered, too nervous to look up.

  “He seems like a really cool person,” he observed casually. I relaxed a bit; he had just been making conversation.

  “Yes. He’s very cool,” I replied, mimicking Mr. Miller’s attempt at teenage vernacular.

  “Are you guys going steady?” he asked uncomfortably.

  “Oh come on Mr. M, you can’t be old enough to have really used that expression? Going steady?” I exclaimed. Mr. Miller couldn’t be much older than my sister.

  “True,” he laughed, “It just seemed like the adult way to ask the question.”

  I laughed at him for a moment, “Well you sound like an ancient relic. But no, we’re not together. Totally Platonic-ville.” I finally pulled out my portfolio and sat down on a table to wait for Mr. Miller to finish at his desk.

  “How come he’s only a friend?” he asked seriously.

  “Well for starters I’m seeing some else,” I answered indifferently.

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Are teachers aloud to be this nosey?” I joked, “His name is Levi Bennett. He goes to St. Jacobs.”

  “Is he one of the seven sons?”

  “The seventh. How’d you know?”

  “I went to St. Jacobs with the third son, Steven Bennett. Strange family.”

  “So I’ve heard. Were you friends with Steven?” I asked curiously.

  He thought about it for a while, “We hung out, but I can’t say we were friends in the traditional sense.” Mr. Miller looked lost in thought for a moment, “Anyway, I hope his little brother is different, I wouldn’t want to think you were mixed up in anything dangerous,” he grabbed a couple papers off his desk, “Ready?”

  We didn’t say anything as we walked out to the parking lot. I thanked Mr. Miller profusely for helping me get my portfolio, and got into my car, feeling thankful to be done with the deception. Mr. Miller waved good-bye with an expression of unease on his face, which I knew was directly related to my connection to the Bennett family. I could have asked for an explanation, but I was beyond curiosity about what made Levi Bennett dangerous, I already I had a pretty good idea. Or at least I thought I did.

  I drove to my house, nearly running two stop signs as I checked my rearview mirror for Conner’s truck. I knew I wouldn’t be able to totally relax until both Conner and I were safely locked away in my room.

  He arrived about five minutes after I did. A huge smile stretched across his face as he bounded up the stairs toward me.

  “I had no idea what a rush a life of crime could produce,” he said as a greeting.

  “Well, just promise me you won’t make a habit of it,” I said snatching the file from his hand.

  We went to my room and I locked the door, just to be safe. I opened the file and a card fell out on to the floor. As I picked it up eleven images of Toby stared up at me. Each school photo, starting in kindergarten and moving straight through to tenth grade was represented on the card. I looked at each carefully, remembering the photos from a similar, if larger, display in his parent’s hallway. My stomach sank as I looked at the two empty squares intended for his junior and senior years. Would they ever be filled?

  Conner thumbed through the report cards, and personal information documents that bulged from the file. He finally stopped and held a sheet of triplicate paper out to me, “Looks like this is the most recent form with information about his father. It’d an emergency contact list from the eighth grade.”

  “That makes sense because Toby’s mom married his step dad the summer after eighth grade, so maybe they were on better terms when she had to fill this out before school started,” I reasoned.

  According to the card, Toby’s father’s name was Raymond Higgins. He had an address at an apartment in San Diego. I studied the
number as Conner passed me my cell phone.

  “Do you think it’s too late to call?” I asked, partially because it was after ten, but mostly because I was afraid to have my worst fears confirmed.

  “It’s Friday night, I’m sure it’s fine,” Conner reassured me, “Plus won’t you sleep better if you know Toby’s alright?” But how will I ever sleep again if he’s not? I thought morosely.

  I dialed the number and listened breathlessly as the phone rang, one, two, three, four times. An answering machine picked up: “Hi, this is Ray. Leave a message,” beep.

  “Hi,” I said into the phone, “My name is Chelsea Mallory. I’m a friend of Toby’s. It’s really important that I talk to him. Can you have him call me? Or if you could just let me know he’s with you,” I quickly recited my number, “Thanks,” I hung up and flopped back on to my bed.

  I turned on the TV and began flipping the channels aimlessly, while Conner looked through my art portfolio. It says a lot about how much I trusted Conner that I would let him look at the soulless work that I had produced last year.

  My mind was spinning with worries. I had stopped my channel surfing on an infomercial about a dog brush that removes buckets full of fur. I didn’t care what I was watching; I was too consumed by the inevitability that I would have to go to the police with the tale of the masked men. So it didn’t even register in my cloudy brain when Conner flipped off the television.

  “Hey Chels,” he said, looking at me seriously, “I heard Mr. Miller ask you about us tonight.”

  I crinkled my eyebrows at him, not sure what he was talking about.

  “He asked if we were…”

  “Going steady,” I quoted in my best Mr. Miller voice, “Yeah, that was funny.”

  “What do you think it would be like between us if Levi wasn’t in your life?” he asked, his eyes carefully measuring my expression.

  I didn’t say anything for a long time. Of course I had thought about this question on many occasions. I loved Conner and I knew that he would make a perfect boyfriend, and to top it off I thought he was very cute, and not only in that boy-next-door kind of way, more, way more. But even with that awareness, it was Levi that I yearned for with every fiber of my being. Levi, whose eyes, when affixed upon me in just the right way, made me feel more alive than I had ever experienced in my sixteen years. He was all I wanted or could imagine wanting. How could I tell Conner this without hurting his feelings, or worse, poisoning our friendship?

  “It’s hard for me to know what I would even be like without Levi,” I finally said quietly, hoping that answered his question and we could move onto lighter subjects.

  Out of nowhere, Conner took my hand in his and looked into my eyes, “Chelsea, I told you from the beginning that your friendship is something I am happy to have. Knowing you has been the best thing about this summer. The only thing actually,” he smiled, “since were together most of the time. But I think it’s only fair that you know that my feelings for you go way beyond friendship. The way I feel about you… I didn’t think I could feel this way about anyone.”

  “Conner…” I started to say, but was interrupted.

  “No wait. I need to get this out. Chelsea, I’m falling in love with you.” Crap, crap, crap! “I realize that isn’t what you want,” he seemed to be reading my mind, “and I don’t want you to worry. I am still in this a hundred and fifty percent as your friend, nothing has to change.”

  “How can it not change Conner?” I pulled my hand away from him in irritation, “You’re my best, no erase that, my closest friend, at least within six thousand miles. How am I going to be able to be honest with you about the most important aspect of my life right now, without assuming your rooting against him?” I could hear my voice becoming shaky as frustrated tears threatened to make their grand entrance.

  “Because,” he sighed, “you should trust by now that I would never root against you. And as much as I hate the fact, I know he is what you want. As long as that’s true, I will support Levi in your life,” Conner looked at me with eyes so filled with misery that I nearly went over and kissed him, just so he would feel better. Thankfully, just then the phone rang.

  “Hello?”

  “Is Chelsea Mallory there?” asked a deep voice.

  “This is,” my heart thudded to attention.

  “Hi, this is Ray Higgins, Toby’s dad.”

  “Oh! Mr. Higgins, thank you so much for returning my call. I have been so worried about Toby and I was hoping you would know how I could get in touch with him?”

  “Toby’s here with me, in San Diego,” Mr. Higgins said.

  “That’s such a relief!” I looked over at Conner and gave him a big smiling thumbs up, “Could I speak with him?”

  “Toby is not taking phone calls at the moment,” he took a breath, “To tell you the truth, he had a falling out with his mother. He is of the mind to start his life over here in San Diego. I’m sure he’ll come around and want to talk to his old friends, but for the time being he’d rather not.”

  “Oh. I understand,” I said, a little dejected, “Thanks for letting me know he’s okay.”

  “Well, it’s good to know he has such nice friends. Good night then.”

  “Bye,” I hung up the phone and did a little dance around my room. It felt like a one ton weight had been lifted off my shoulders and chucked out the window. My joy lasted for exactly two seconds before I remembered the new dilemma I was facing with Conner.

  Conner left a half an hour later after watching the first three sketches of SNL. Neither of us brought up the subject of Conner’s recent confession, but when he hugged me good-bye it felt different, awkward and somehow forced. As I lay in bed that night I pledged to myself that I would not allow things to be uncomfortable between us ever again. If Conner said he could handle just being my friend then I would hold him to that. There was no way I was going to be able to make it through the remainder of high school without him.

  I smiled to myself as I thought about Levi. What a total freak I had been. It was actually quite embarrassing to consider. Thankfully I had trusted my instincts and had not gone running to the police. Levi can never know that I considered him as potential murder suspect, I thought. That would definitely put a damper on our relationship.

  It made sense to me now that Toby would need to get away from his mom. She was obviously overprotective, driving him to the concert and enforcing a humiliating earplug rule. I mean, she seemed nice enough to me, but then again, I didn’t have to live with her. I could practically hear my mom saying, Things are always different behind closed doors.

  It was one-thirty in the morning and I was still wide awake. I decided to call Levi, doubting he would be asleep. Honestly, did that boy ever sleep?

  He picked up on the first ring, “Let me guess. Your window is open and you’re sure you closed it.”

  “Nope. I just had a terrible nightmare that my boyfriend left me while my parents were out of town,” I hoped I sounded flirty rather than whinny.

  “That does sound like a nightmare,” I could hear him smile, “How was your night, Punky?”

  “Interesting. We had a nude model in my art class.”

  “How can I sign up for this class?” he joked.

  “I don’t think she would be your type,” I went on to describe in extensive detail each roll of flab on the model. Levi laughed hardily and it made me feel good to hear him sound happy and relaxed, so good in fact that I asked a question I had been afraid to hear the answer to, “Hey, the other day when you said no more slumber parties with my girlfriend, were you talking about Conner?”

  “Your deductive powers are staggering, Chelsea,” he answered lightly.

  “How did you know he’d spent the night?” I asked hoping to sound nonchalant.

  “The truck in your driveway. My deductive powers are pretty good too,” he explained, an edge creeping into his silky tone.

  “But how did you see his truck in my driveway?” I asked, knowing I was pushing t
he subject.

  He was silent for a second, and then lowered his voice, “I’ve got eyes everywhere, Chelsea. Everywhere, and all the time.”

  “You’re creepy,” I laughed stiffly, “Then what am I doing right now?”

  “You’re in bed, your TV is on, and you locked your door and window,” he said seriously, and then added, “And your girlfriend left exactly forty-five minutes ago.”

  19

  I had another bad dream that night. It started out as they always did, with me trying to run up a seemingly eternal mountain. Oozing and maggot infested garbage spilled from the holes my feet made in the surface of the mountain as I clawed my way toward the top. I could sense that I was being chased. When I looked back I couldn’t see anyone, but I could hear his breathing, I could almost feel his hot breath on my ear. Toby stood at the top of the mountain, staring at me with a horrified expression.

  The dream changed instantly. I was now following Toby down a long twisted hallway. I had been there before in my dreams. I was running as fast as my legs could manage, but I couldn’t seem to keep up with Toby. Suddenly, I lost sight of him and I was alone; everything was silent. I found myself entering a tiny room, with stark white walls. In the corner was a bed, barren aside from a single white calla lily that lay on the pillow. I walked over to it and picked it up. A loud crash boomed as the door behind me slammed shut. Then the pain began, dully at first and intensifying as each muscle of my low back seemed to be ripped to pieces; like I was a toothpick and somebody was bending me in half, the wood cracking as they folded back and forth until all that was left were splinters.

 

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