Chrysoprase

by B. Kristin McMichael

  “I will find her and bring her back,” I told him as he placed his arms around me.

  “I never doubted that,” he said into the top of my head. “But for now, be a kid and live a little. Go out with Amy. She’s been really worried about you. I think she’s stopped by over half a dozen times ‘on accident’ in the past few months, looking for you.”

  He patted my back before letting me go. He went to the door and smiled at me with his sad new smile. After one last look from the doorway he was gone, shuffling down the hallway.

  The party was in full swing by the time we got there. That was typical Amy. She liked to arrive late. She felt that it made her presence even more important. It was still strange to find that nothing had changed. I thought it just made us late. I was used to it by now. It never used to bother me, but now it did. Amy was still Amy, but I felt like I was a completely new person.

  “Did you hear that Logan still hasn’t gotten a new girlfriend after you dumped him last year?” Amy grabbed my arm and pulled me into the house when I hesitated at the door. This was the house of my ex-boyfriend after all.

  I shook my head. I hadn’t heard that, but it didn’t matter. I wasn’t connected to the gossip circle like her. I didn’t care who Logan was dating or cheating on now. He wasn’t my concern. Good luck to whomever he suckered into dating him. They could have the fun time of him running off at any day or time. I didn’t ever want to be back in his presence, but I couldn’t turn Amy down. She wasn’t one for taking no for an answer. Ever observant, Amy noticed my indifference.

  “You did find someone at college,” Amy intuitively guessed. I didn’t want to reply or deny it. I couldn’t lie to her. She was my oldest friend. “Once you say hi to everyone, I’m going to have to get you cornered alone to hear all the details. You can’t date someone new without giving me a chance to assess him. You better show me a picture, and the more skin the better.”

  Amy waved to another one of our friends as we walked down the lavish hallway. I noticed her, but was busy looking around. I was always impressed by the Jones house. In my two years dating Logan, I had been over often. Everything was decorated in a very regal manner, and when most homes had a new/old look to them where the homeowner tried to fake authenticity, the Jones home was old old. Everything from the floors to the ceiling was vintage and authentic. I first didn’t notice it, but my grandfather told me that everything in the house was real, and really old. The antiques around the entry room alone would cost a fortune.

  Logan Jones came from money. I had no clue what his parents did, and in the two years I dated him, I never met his parents. They were always gone on business, but it must have been good business to afford him everything even most adults wanted. Without parents around in the gigantic house, you’d think he’d be alone, but that wasn’t the case either. There were butlers, maids, cooks, and people to do just about anything for him. He could have whatever he wanted, and could do basically anything he wanted. It was amazing what money could buy you. My grandfather had money, but nothing like Logan. I always felt like a commoner around him.

  “Amy, Mari,” Stephanie Miller called out to the both of us.

  Steph ran down the hallway, sliding the last few feet in her socks on the polished floor. We stopped her slide as she threw her arms around us in a big hug.

  “You found our missing sister!” Steph cheered, hanging on tight.

  In high school we were the three musketeers. We did everything together. I don’t even think I took more than half a dozen classes that didn’t have either Steph or Amy in them. They were my everything. I hugged Steph back. How could she be familiar, yet so different now? The people were the same, and just as I remembered them, but something felt different.

  Steph looped her arms through mine and Amy’s, pulling us back to the party room. I had no choice but to reluctantly go with them. In reality, I’d have been happy to sit in the car. It was too weird to be back with everyone. Nothing had changed, and I really didn’t want to see Logan or his friends. This wasn’t my world any more. But Amy would never let me sit out there alone. She was determined to make me have a good time.

  “When did you get home?” Steph asked.

  I didn’t answer as I looked around the house. There was something magical about this place. I always thought that. Too bad it had to be Logan Jones’ house. Amy and Steph stopped, so I stopped along with them. Then I realized Steph was talking to me. Guess it had to be me as I remembered the question. Amy really hadn’t gone anywhere to get home from.

  “A few days ago,” I replied. By this time I wasn’t completely sure. My memory of the past three months was a bit hazy with the change in time without Seth in it. My memories were all a bit mushed together right now.

  “And it took you a few days to call us?” Steph asked accusingly.

  It was true. The old me from high school would have called them before I made it into the driveway, but the new me was a bit more preoccupied. I shrugged to her as my response. There wasn’t anything I could actually say that wouldn’t make it seem like something was up, or like I completely ditched them.

  “She’s got a boyfriend,” Amy replied in hushed tones as we neared the noise of the party in progress.

  “A boyfriend?” Steph squealed. “I need to see.” She grabbed my phone before I could stop her. I normally would have protested, but she would find nothing there. Amy grabbed my phone back and gave it to me before Steph could look through it.

  “Later,” she promised over the noise. Steph led us into the room filled with both students from my old high school, St. Maria’s Preparatory, and Bishop Glenwood, the male school we did everything with.

  Steph wove between the groups of people standing around. I recognized most of them, but was glad we didn’t stop to say hi. I felt disconnected from everyone. What would I say to them? Could I continue to smile and take the ribbing about Minnesota? I actually liked it there. Steph wove her way further into the room and a couch that was miraculously empty. She pulled us down to sit before anyone else could, and was right back to talking with Amy about the latest gossip she had heard.

  I ended up pretending that I cared about their conversation, too. I was really too removed to even know what they were complaining about now. Someone named Ned got in a fight with someone else named Jim at some club because they were from different colleges. I didn’t really get it. So I looked around the room instead. There were many people I hadn’t seen in months, yet I recognized most. People were still staggered around the room where you would expect them. Most people hung out with the same groups. Group A was glaring at Group B, while Group C was checking out Group D. Nothing was any different than when we were in high school. I looked down at the clothes Amy insisted I wear as my usual jeans and sweatshirt were not ‘Amy party approved.’ I was wearing the same kind of clothes I did in high school, and I was sitting with my same two best friends. From the outside, nothing had changed here either.

  Unfortunately, from our seat, and in my distraction of looking around the room, I found Logan Jones. He was one person I never wanted to see again. We didn’t exactly have a nice break up. In fact, I had yet to talk to him since the day I said I was finished with him.

  Logan was at the pool table with Becca Chance. I had known Becca since we were in grade school. She was the princess type that did whatever she wanted and got whatever she wanted from Daddy. He would move the world if she asked. She wasn’t accustomed to being told no. I had no doubt that she had been aggressively pursuing Logan since before we broke up. Becca was needy and demanding, which made such a nice combination. I almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

  Becca was leaning down to the table to hit a ball, obviously doing her best to show off her only asset—ones Daddy bought for her sixteenth birthday.

  “And did you hear about Sara and Sam?” Steph asked me, trying to get me to join the conversation going on beside me. I shook my head no. I really hadn’t heard about anyone, and didn’t really care. I wasn’t into
the high school gossip circle anymore.

  “How could you not hear about them?” Amy replied, surprised.

  “Umm, you know, eight hours away in the cold snow. She walks up hill both ways to get to class,” Steph teased.

  I smiled along with them as they laughed, but it still stung. I remember how much they teased me before I had left. I joked right along with them. I was too scared to be able to tell them I was really excited to go so far away. They wouldn’t have understood. I really felt like I was moving off to the middle of nowhere, and I was scared completely. It would have been nice to have them support me and tell me that I would do great. It wasn’t the same now. I had lived there for three and a half months. It was more like home than this place was. I didn’t need their support. I actually did do just fine moving away. That one little step made me feel like I could do anything.

  “I’m kind of busy with classes,” I replied, answering Amy’s question about hearing gossip before they could continue teasing me.

  “Or with boys.” Amy winked at me. That part was very much true. Seth had spent all semester, thus far, trying to get me to go out with him. A large part of my extra time did have to do with boys, or one boy in particular.

  Amy still didn’t get her chance to corner me alone, and she knew I wasn’t going to say anything with everyone sitting around us. I mean, my ex-boyfriend was only feet away, and he wouldn’t like to hear about my new dates. I wasn’t looking forward to that grilling. What was I going to tell her? My imaginary boyfriend, who doesn’t exist in our time, but who I plan to bring back, went to my school before he disappeared. That would be believable. Luckily for me, someone shouted from the wet bar, and I was saved from talking further.

  “Come and get it,” some guy from Bishop Glenwood shouted a second time.

  I followed Amy and Steph as they stood and joined everyone heading over to the bar and the games that were sure to follow. I took a glass of whatever Amy shoved into my hand. I looked down at the drink and didn’t even have to consider drinking it. Normally I was all for fun with my friends, but now I wasn’t sure I should ever have a drink. What would happen if I got drunk? Could I end up time traveling somewhere I didn’t know? Could I get stuck in the past, or maybe the future? It was scary enough to chase after Seth into the unknown when I was going straight to him, but now it was even scarier, thinking that I could end up anywhere in any time.

  Fortunately, Amy and Steph didn’t see my hesitation as we made it back to some empty seats. This time it wasn’t with a view of the pool table in case Logan and Becca were still there. I still didn’t have feelings for Logan, and really my opinion of him wasn’t that high, but even he didn’t deserve to end up with Becca. She had been chasing Logan since before I met him my sophomore year, and even us being together didn’t stop her. He had made it very clear to me that he didn’t appreciate anything about Becca, but now he seemed to not mind. That was guys for you.

  Amy and Steph took a few sips, and I pretended to as well. There was no way I could tell them about my new lack of interest in drinking. It would be one more thing for them to tease me about in regards to Morton. It wasn’t even college that did it to me, but they would blame it on my school again. And I surely couldn’t tell them the truth. They would send me to a shrink; probably someone’s father right here in the room, or it was likely that someone here had one on speed dial.

  It didn’t take long before the party was in full swing. Amy’s words were a bit slurred as she and Steph stood to go join the game of beer pong. Amy was always a lightweight. She kind of reminded me of Sim. I missed my roomie a bit more now. At least she wouldn’t take every opportunity to throw in a jab about Morton like my two friends had all evening.

  “I’m going to go to the bathroom,” I told Steph, the more sober of the two. I was planning to walk by the bathroom at least, so I technically wasn’t lying to my half-sober friend. Not that it would matter anyway.

  “We can come with,” Steph offered, spilling her latest filled drink a little.

  “Nah, I’ll be right back,” I replied, and hurried away from them before either could follow.

  It took a little maneuvering to make it out of the party without anyone stopping me, but soon I was in the quieter hallway. People were still coming and going, but no one would pay attention to me turning further into the house. Mostly everyone had a little, if not a lot, to drink by now. The Jones house was huge, but at least I knew my way around. I figured I had at least an hour or two to waste before Amy would be too drunk to protest us leaving early. That much hadn’t seemed to change. Lucky for me Amy was still Amy.

  I wandered down the hallway to the library. No one from the party was bound to walk this way. I could wait until everyone was really drunk before I returned, and no one would notice that I hadn’t been drinking while I was whisking Amy away. I opened the door slowly. Just because I didn’t see anyone else in the house, that didn’t mean they weren’t there. The Jones family had people working everywhere in the house. I poked my head in and smiled. The library was lit dimly, but no one was inside. It was quiet and empty, just how I wanted to find it.

  I closed the door behind me and let the silence settle. I’ve always liked libraries, and the Jones library was no exception. It was as beautiful as the rest of the house, with books that lined the walls two stories high in beautiful wooden bookcases that were always polished, though I rarely found anyone working in the room in the two years I dated Logan. The books were not modern books, and I had yet to find something published in the last three or four decades. It was a magical room, just like the rest of the house. Everything in the room was ancient. The books were of dark hues of red, blue, and green with ornate gold and silver writing on the spines that lined the walls from floor to ceiling. The antique ladders that dotted the walls let you get the upper books, but I never went up that far. It was enough for me to peruse the selections at ground level.

  As I strolled back further I looked at what was in the reading boxes. Some of the books were so old they were kept in clear display boxes. They were the books that had to be handled with the utmost care, and those the Jones deemed truly display worthy. I peered into the closest box and looked at the ancient writing. The gold strokes had always been illegible to me, but fun to look at none-the-less. These old pages made history real for me before I had the ability to travel through time. Someone hundreds of years ago had sat somewhere by candlelight, writing the pages I glanced at. They had spent long hours making what would last through the ages. It truly made you appreciate time, not that that was an issue now. My new ability to travel through time made me understand that even better. But there was still something to be said about these old texts.

  I looked up. It felt like someone was watching me. I glanced around the room. The door was still closed, and no one was around. I hadn’t heard anyone enter. Their maids were silent, but not that silent. I looked back around the room. The feeling was still there, but I was alone.

  My focus went back to the documents scattered around the room in glass cases. One toward the far window caught my attention. The carnelian lines around my hand pulsated as if to tell me I was going in the right direction. The tingles in my arm felt much like they did when I was around Seth. I missed him so much, and I was nowhere near knowing how to get him back. It was like Seth was sending me a sign even though we were far apart. I moved slowly down the line of books. Something was calling to the stone that was now imprinted into my arm. I stopped at each book as I passed. Why was one calling to me and all the others not? As I got close to the one I really wanted to see, I paused again. I still felt like someone was watching me. I looked down at the words on the page in the box in front of me. They weren’t the ones calling to me, yet were pretty all the same.

  “Figured this would be where you ran off to,” Logan said quietly from somewhere in the room.

  I was sure I didn’t hear him enter, and I had no clue how long he had been there. He stepped out of the shadow he was hidden i
n and slowly slunk across the room. Logan had always puzzled me. Around everyone else, you would think he was just another very friendly jock, but alone, he was completely different. His movements were always perfect and graceful, but he kept that hidden from everyone else. I remember the first time I was alone with him. Logan was exciting, and he made me feel like I was the one he had spent his life hunting. I still felt that vibe from him, but now it was just confusing. I didn’t have feelings for him anymore, beyond the annoyance I still felt about our last date. That would probably last forever. The reason I didn’t trust guys in general, and rightfully so, was standing in front of me now. Having him slowly analyzing me was strange. I still got butterflies in my stomach—anyone would get that when someone as hot as him was looking at you. But I didn’t have the loving feelings that once went with those butterflies.

  I didn’t answer, but kept slowly walking, glancing down at each box I passed. As I neared the one I really wanted to see, I only glanced down at it like I had the others. I didn’t need Logan wanting to know more than I could possibly explain, nor did I especially want to talk to him about anything at this point. The box still called to me, and I wanted to stare at it more. The writing, while illegible to me, looked familiar. It almost felt like if I reached in and touched the old paper I would see what it had to say. I clasped my hands behind my back and kept walking. Logan followed behind. I finally stopped at the last box and studied it.

  “Nothing changes, does it?” Logan said.

  I wanted to ignore him more, but it was getting harder to do so. I was in his house in any case. And I was walking around, uninvited, in his house library.

  “What doesn’t change?” I asked, humoring him, though my gut told me to just slap him and walk away. That was the least he deserved for ditching me at my junior prom, forcing me to call my mother to give me a ride home after everyone left and I was still there alone. Sure, Logan. You’ll be right back. That was the last time I believed that lie.