by Sam Herrera
“I thought he’d fit right in at first,” he continued, “as his aunt’s an instructor. But I guess she weren’t interested.”
Aunt? I frowned.
“Aunt?” Grey asked.
“Yeah, Kristen.”Kristen’s Caleb’s aunt?I thought of the tall, redheaded gym instructor at the fitness center in town with the muscles of a pro. She often, when we had trips there, gave us courses on health and fitness. But I had never associated her with the Kristen Harper from the Wiki article. She and Caleb looked nothing alike and they’d kept apart during the trips, having no contact apart from a curt nod or two.
“Kristen works at the gym?” Grey asked. “I’ve never seen her there.”
“She’s been on holiday for over a month now.”
Grey nodded, gave Phillips, me and the others a withdrawing smile and went back to jogging. Oh, that reminded me.
*
I rang the doorbell hesitantly. I glanced at Father and Eve, and then chewed my lip, wondering if this was really a good idea. David Grey smiled, opening the door.
“Hi,” Father said, returning the smile and a putting hand on Eve’s shoulder. We shook hands. “”Hello, Mr Hale. Hello again...”
“Eve,” she informed him.
“Hello again, Mara. Still murdering that race track?” Father and I smirked.
“She’ll make track champion, this one,” he remarked, mussing my hair. Get off.
“Come on in,” Mr. Grey said, stepping back from the doorway. We all walked through to the garden. Jamie Grey waved at us, looking up from flipping burgers on the barbeque. “My wife, Jamie,” he introduced. “And this is my niece, Abby, and her boyfriend, Trevor.” The two of them left off opening deckchairs long enough to come forward and shake hands. So, this was Abby Harper Grey, the same Abby from the photo-less Wikipedia article. I felt instantly very tongue-tied and awkward. Someone with her past, who had endured what few had and made choices no one should have to… Her boyfriend, Trevor, I noticed, had dark red hair and some serious muscle on him. Shit, I thought as I saw her highness appear behind her father and stop dead, glowering at the sight of me.
“Hello, Summer,” he said, turning around. “Aren’t you going to welcome our guests?” Summer slowly walked forward to shake Father’s hand.
“Summer Grey, I’ve heard of you.”
“And we’ve met,” Eve added. I fought to keep back a smug smile, seeing her stony face was making the Princess really uncomfortable. Eve wouldn’t take any shit, especially if it was aimed at me. We took seats on the deckchairs while Jamie kept on grilling. Father, David and the Trevor guy began discussing the outcome of some such football match while Eve and Abby got acquainted. Summer was sitting in her chair, in her own quiet little corner, texting on her phone and talking to no one. I took a sip of my Coke and then leaned back in my chair, enjoying the bright sunshine.
“Mara,” Caleb stood over me, “I thought you were going to give us some tunes?”
“Aww, sorry, Caleb, I forgot.”
“‘S okay,” he smiled. You always have a dazzling smile. He sat beside me and we enjoyed the twittering birdsong, not needing to talk. I sighed contentedly. I loved sitting with him in companionable silence.
*
I, and a tall, blond kid, stood leaning against the school gates waiting for Caleb. I watched the flash, green Jaguar come around the corner, with Jamie Grey at the wheel, and the twins get out. That they were twins was just weird, I thought again that they looked nothing alike. While Summer went off to her usual girl’s grouping, the three of us went off to our own private corner. This must be Daniel Price, I thought, eyeing Blondie. “I don’t think we’ve met, have we?” I asked.
“Daniel.”
“Mara.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard of you. Cale won’t shut up aboucha.”
“Zip it, Dan.”
“Did you enjoy Redstone?”
“I did, thanks.”
“How are you doing. Since, well…”
“Since Kyle got arrested?”
“Yeah. Do you reckon he did it?”
“Dan, c’mon,” Caleb growled.
“It’s alright. No, I don’t.”
“Because he’s your, like, best friend?”
“Yeah. I believe he’s innocent, but…” I shrugged.
“Sorry, this must have been rough?”
“It was,” I nodded. Caleb cleared his throat and suggested we go to our lessons. I let the teacher’s chatter just wash over me, counting the minutes until I could get out of there.
*
“So how’s Kristen?” I asked as our feet moved lazily, up to the ankles in the water of Windermere.
“She’s fine,” he nodded as he stopped writing in his diary and leaned back, closing his eyes, to catch some sun. I seemed unable to get enough of the way it gleamed in his thick black curls with their red highlights. I wished it was quieter. Dan and the other guys from school, including Andy and Summer’s meathead boyfriend, Steve or Stu or something, were playing catch with a soc— rugby ball in the lake. The sun gleamed on their bare, dripping-wet torsos.
“You two have never even exchanged a word to one another,” I pointed out.
“She and I aren’t exactly chatty,” he sighed. “It’s just we prefer to chill, enjoy the scenery and be quiet. When there’s nothing to say, y’know, we don’t say anything.” I nodded understandingly, knowing this already. I was exactly the same.
“Hey, Caleb.” We both looked up. Dan was wading over, his hair soaked and his face flushed.
“Wanna play?”
Caleb smiled and, standing, took off his shirt. I watched him jump in, for longer than I really should have, then saw he’d just left the diary behind on the bank. I looked from him to the book, then back to him again. Don’t do it, Mara. It’s private. I exhaled through my mouth noisily. Why did I want to know so badly? What was this guy to me? What did it matter that his black hair was thick and shiny and gleamed in the light? What did the merry sparkle in his big, blue eyes matter? What did it also matter that he didn’t have an ounce of excess fat on his lean, powerful body and—?
“God,” I muttered, blushing at my own thoughts. “Shit,” I scowled. I picked up the damn thing and, walking a little way away from the lake, opening it at random.
8/8/16
Dear diary, I have been only on one family get-together with this girl, Mara, but every detail is carved onto my memory: the quiet sunlit garden, the cold beer, the dappled light on the lake, so bright you could hardly bear to look at it, and most of all the girl beside me. In the bright sun, her white skin positively glowed with its own aura. I swear I have never met anyone like her in my life before. She is so beautiful. Unique. Her eyes are the colour of roses and her figure is. To. Die. For. And the best part is she doesn’t know it, has no idea. So, I can talk to her as an equal. And this is the cherry on top of the cake: we share the same interests. Well, some. She’s into rock while I prefer classical. Before she came along, I’d never even heard of Led Zeppelin or the Runaways. But, it doesn’t matter. When I’m with her, I feel…I can’t even describe it.
“Neither can I,” I whispered. I lay back, in the shade of a tree, and held the diary to my chest, over my bursting heart, with a grin wider than the Grand Canyon. Damn. That was how Andy found me, a few minutes later.
“Are you on something?” he frowned down at me, dripping and freaked. Yes. Caleb.
“No, are you?” I countered, sitting up.
“What’s that?” he asked.
“Caleb’s diary.”
“You went through all his private shit?”
“Yes,” I replied defiantly. He shrugged and walked off. I leaned back against the trunk and looked over at Caleb’s bitch sister as she sat in her deckchair, the two-piece showing off her perfect body, surrounded by her even bitchier friends.
Now I knew how Father felt, dating Eve: her family had rejected him utterly, saying he was no good for her. But she had grown a pair, stuck to her guns and was still with him. While I didn’t know her that well, I could respect her for that and for being on my side about the bullying. Summer yawned and stretched out in the bright sunshine, rolling her head around her shoulders. How I’d so often wished a mad axe murderer would show up at our school and lop that head, pouty lips, big, gray, oh-so-innocent eyes and all, off her shoulders. She glared over at me and I looked away. All the rest of her family had welcomed me with open arms, but she’d ever been the bully. Fuck her, I thought, looking back and seeing Caleb come out of the water, dripping, dressed only in his boxer shorts. God, he was beautiful; the exotic, tanned, dark Yang to my pallid, colorless Yin.
“Comin’ in?” he grinned. I looked over ahead of me to see who he was talking to.
“Mara,” he chuckled, “are you coming in?”
“Umm.”
“Playin’ catch ain’t your thing, huh?”
“No, I just…”
“Cool. Fine.” With a shrug, he dove back in. I sighed and thought for a while. Why the hell not?
“Hey, Caleb.” Under his stunned gaze, with a boldness that surprised me too, I whipped off my tank, stepped out of my jeans and jumped in after him. Shaking myself like a dog, I took up position next to Caleb’s tall, pony-tailed friend.
“Hi.”
“Hey.”
I think I did pretty well. I caught the soccer ball every time it came my way anyhow. At one point, I slipped on a patch of mud underneath the water. Quick as lightning, Caleb was there. I fell right into his arms and our eyes met. Clichéd as it was, when he straightened up and let me go I hated to be out of them. I let out the long breath I hadn’t even realized I’d been holding, watching him go. What the hell? My entire body was tingling, especially where he’d held me. I waded out of the water but not out of dreamland until there she stood with her arms akimbo.
“I said stay away from my brother.”
I gazed into her hard, mean eyes and the boldness returned. “And I said no.”
“Look, bitch—”
“Fuck off,” I snapped, narrowing my eyes. White-lipped with rage, she stomped off. I grinned a stunned grin. I’d so often dreamed of saying that to her, but had never dared before now. Ever.
“Bravo,” the tall guy who’d been on my team smiled.
“Huh?”
“I ‘spect you’re gonna be the envy of the whole place when we get back.”
“Really?”
“Oh, yeah. I. Can. Not. Stand that stuck-up bitch, I really can’t. I just don’t get how a cool guy like Caleb and she are even related.”
“You don’t like her?”
“Uhhh, no,” he smiled. “So I hear you’re a guitar player?”
“Yeah,” I smiled. “Well, I’m learning.”
“Ever been in a band?”
“Nnno,” I admitted, wondering where this was going.
“Me and a few others are thinking of forming one, but…we suck,” he shrugged.
“Aww.”
“It’s true. We could use some fresh talent.”
“Okay, I’m up for that. Where do you practice?”
“Here.”
“Here?”
“Well, not here, here. I think it’s somewhere on the opposite shore. Somewhere over there.” He pointed to a distant spot on the treeline.
“How do you get all the way over there?” I wondered aloud.
“We row over in the boats.”
“Oh, okay. Sure, I’ll come along. See if you’re as bad as you claim.”
“Hi, Fred.”
“Hi, Cale, wassup?”
“Nothing. Wassup with you?” Caleb replied, unsmiling.
“Nothin’,” the Fred guy frowned, wondering at the sharp tone.
“Alright then.” I wondered if I should step in here, but my eyes were drawn to my clothes lying on the bank. I was getting cold standing in just my underwear.
“Thanks, Fred, I’ll be sure to take you up on that.”
“No problem…?”
“Mara.”
“Mara. Cool, catch ya later.” With a last, confused look at Caleb, he walked off, throwing a towel over his shoulder.
“You’ll take him up on what?”
“He wanted to introduce me to his band, see if I was any good on the guitar.”
“Okay,” he nodded stiffly. Sheesh, get a grip.
“You’re getting a little overprotective, aren’t ya?” I pointed out as I dressed.
“Yes,” he smiled ruefully, “I suppose I am.” He put an arm around my shoulder and I inhaled the smell of him as we walked back: fresh natural water mixed with his own unique scent. My God, I thought, I’m falling and falling hard.
SARAH
I felt pretty shitty as I served the drinks. People seemed tired of giving me grief for a change. I was still getting some attention from them though; goggling eyes followed me everywhere and gossip buzzed. I made some smalltalk with Jack and Dave, skillfully avoiding all questions about her. But that didn’t stop them coming. I was glad when I was called to do rounds. Any more wide-eyed looks and I’d have lost it with them. I saw her at the bar and smirked. She was the top topic on everyone’s lips and yet here she was, undetected and unnoticed.
“Hi,” I smiled. She just looked at me with an expression that clearly said “fuck off”. She meant business, I saw as I looked at the two empty glasses on the bar beside her. I watched worriedly as she poured herself another shot, and another, and another. Shit, I thought, looking away as I saw that we were fast becoming the center of attention.
“Uhhh,” she groaned, suddenly getting up and stumbling. “I don’t think I can stand much longer.”
I sighed as I steered the truly wasted girl to the car, my arm the only thing holding her up. “Dave, I need some help here,” I called.
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, gaping at her, as he followed us out.
“Shhh,” I told him. Never mind. I sighed, seeing the crowd at the window. “Look,” I snapped, letting her fall to the floor.
“There’s a puddlllle,” she whined, trying to get up. I glared at the mobiles pressed against the inside of the glass.
“Fuck’s sake. Look, she’s drunk, and she’s miserable, and if I let her drive in this condition, she’ll kill herself. Now would you mind helping me?” We both looked down at the semi-conscious kid, watching as a strand of black hair waved gently in the small, oil-slicked lake. She, groaning, tried to rise and just fell flat on her face again. I could only imagine what the asswipes would be screaming tomorrow. She suddenly threw up all over the sidewalk.
“Goddamnit!” I muttered as I picked her up in my arms. “Okay?”
“Fine,” he sighed.
“I pissed myself,” she whined as I scooped her up in my arms.
“Oh, my Gooooddd,” I gasped. I bundled her into the back seat, trying not to stare at her soaked, dirty face. She looked like shit run over twice. We set off in awkward silence. At some point, she began to cry.
“Bastard, he’s my family,” she moaned. “He’s all I have. Did he ever think of that? Did he give any shred of a shit—?”
“Sssshut up,” I hissed, indicating Dave with jerks of my head while trying to ignore his pointed, what the fuck’s going on glares. I sighed, realizing I was again being a bitch here and then offered a hand to her. In it was a hankie. I shook my head helplessly as she dabbed her eyes and face, again, not having a clue what to say. You bastard, how could ya?
*
I laid her gently on the couch, pulled her boots off, covered her with a comforter then turned to face the firing squad. Dave watched me from the doorway, arms folded, his face the picture of disapproval.
“So, are you g
oing to start a shelter, take in any drunk off the street?”
“There was a time, if memory serves,” I frowned, “when I was just some drunk. She’s a friend of mine.”
“You know what they’re saying about you two, right?”
“No, and I don’t give a shit,” I stated, shaking my head, my patience wearing thin, “and I don’t have to justify myself to you. Good. Night. Goodnight, Daaaave. Dave, put your phone away and get outta here.”
I watched her on my way to bed. I did care for her, but not in the way they meant. I watched as she slowly turned on her back, moaning softly in her sleep. I thought her beautiful, inside and out.
*
I walked downstairs, dressed in gym gear and ready to go. I’d forgotten about my “guest” until I saw her curled up on the couch. She stirred and groaned, throwing an arm across her eyes and I derived some small, catty triumph from seeing her mouth and shirt-hem were rimmed in puke and her hair was muddy and matted. Not exactly a beauty queen right now, are you?
“Sleep alright?” I asked. She looked up at me through bleary eyes and shrugged.
“Where am I?” she squinted. She groaned as she tried to get up, her dark hair spilling over her face. “Uhh, God. I don’t feel well.”
“Well, lie back and chill. I’m going jogging.”
*
“Hi,” I blinked, seeing her catch up with me as I was doing the third lap of the next morning’s jog. The endorphin rush was, I was finding, addictive.
“Mind if I join you?”
“Not at all.” When she came downstairs, I smiled to see her borrowed workout gear fitted her fine: a black hood over a thin gray tank and matching joggers. We raced at a steady pace. She looked, incredibly, a lot better now than she had last night. She’d washed her face, combed her hair, and had some stamina on her as well. I saw this as she kept an easy pace with me during our jog, her long legs pumping like pistons.
“Is his face the pavement?”
“Who said anything about his face?” she grinned. Her smile faded as horrific memories, similar to mine no doubt, began doing laps around her mind. When we were done, we took the stairs to the apartment, neither of us saying a word. I felt Mike stirring inside me and decided to ease off in future. When she reached the door opposite, she turned to me, lowering her hood and blowing a sweaty black strand out of her eyes, giving a wave. I suspected that, though it hung between us, she hadn’t wanted to talk about that, just workout.