A Season of Eden (16 page)

“Have a crush do we?” I asked.

“He’s gorgeous.”

“He probably has a girlfriend, Leesa.”

She shrugged. “I can dream, can’t I?”

I didn’t even want her dreaming. Common sense told me James wouldn’t be interested in Leesa as anything more than a student. Still, I had just extended my feelings to him—in a small, protected way—so I was insecure about us.
There is no us, you retard. You’re getting way ahead of
yourself.
I lifted my chin and navigated my way through the bodies coming toward us down the hall. Not surprisingly, Leesa trailed at my elbow.

“You going to your locker?” she asked.

Just because she’d said more than two words to me about James did not mean that I was open to a full discussion. I shook my head. “No. Gotta run. See you later, Leesa.” Without looking at her again, I went on my way.

“See ya,” she called.

The rest of the day hovered like the thick, wet fog that had crept in that morning. I couldn’t stop feeling jealous. I scanned the halls between classes, as if I might see him. But I’d never seen him walking down the halls. I wasn’t sure he even left his room until school was over.

When lunch came, I waited for Brielle at her car, but she never showed. Something clawed in my stomach. I hadn’t heard from her for a few days, and my disassociation from Matt left me out of the loop.

I walked to the plaza to check things out.

Josh, Tanner, Matt and Brielle sat at our table, laughing and talking, the hole that my absence made apparently not significant enough for anyone to notice or care about. A few other students occupied the half-dozen other tables, and the scent of bread and coffee hung in the foggy air. I almost didn’t go over, but that would have seemed like I cared more than I should, so I did. A smile plastered on my face. “Hey.”

They looked up at me with surprise, their laughter dying.

I sat in the empty chair as if nothing was wrong, ignoring the prickly silence. “Bree, what’s up?”

“Uh… nothing.”

“Didn’t look like that when I walked over. Come on, we’re not going to be all weird because you and Matt have hooked up, are we? You have hooked up, haven’t you?”

Matt’s brown eyes narrowed. “Why do you care?”

“She’s my friend. I don’t want you hurting her because you’re on the rebound from me.”

“News flash, Eden, you weren’t worth a rebound.”

I stared at him. Cold fog drifted behind Matt, nearly veiling the plaza. A chill raced through me. “Just weeks ago you were at my door, begging.” I shook my head, held his gaze tight unable to keep from jabbing back. “You weren’t worth a rebound either.” I looked at Bree then. “Don’t say you weren’t warned.”

Matt shot up from his chair and stormed to me. He stood over me with fire in his eyes. “Shut up!”

I lifted a shoulder. “You were being honest. That means I can’t be? It’s a double standard with Matt, Bree. Be careful.”

Matt pulled me to my feet. The raw strength in his grip terrified me. My mouth fell open. I knew he had a temper, he’d grabbed me once before, but never in front of people.

“Let go of me!”

Before I knew it, he was dragging me away from the table. My whole body shook with fear. I’d never been handled before. I tried to stop, batting at him, but he wrapped his arms around me.

“People are watching us,” I hissed.

“Good for them.” He stopped a good forty feet away from any ears, though plenty of eyes were still watching.

His arms fell away from me. “Look, I don’t want you screwing things up because you’re getting back at me.”

“I could care less that you like Bree. Haven’t I made that clear about a hundred times now?”

“Then what are you doing here?”

“Having lunch with my friends.”

“We’re not your friends anymore. Forget it, Eden.

Nobody wants you around so screw off.” He stormed back to the table.

Stunned, I couldn’t move, wondering if I had just had some freakish nightmare. I’d hung with these kids for four years, and now they were telling me it was over?

I walked back to school feeling skinned and hollowed.

I couldn’t believe that Brielle hadn’t even tried to come after me. I couldn’t believe she’d chosen Matt over me. The water through which I now saw my reflection was painfully shallow. I didn’t want to think about the past four years and the ease with which I had leapt from stone to stone, boy to boy, kicking aside the last without care. Though I felt empty, I didn’t cry. The impossibility of what had just happened kept me in a daze.

I spun my locker dial, staring at the flesh-colored paint covering the metal closet. A hideous color. I wondered who’d been so color blind to have chosen it. Graffiti and scratches looked like scars etched into skin.

“You okay?”

To my left, Leesa glanced at me from her open locker. I hadn’t even heard or seen her.

“Yeah.”

“You look sad.”

With her I was happy or sad. So basic. There was something to living your life that simply. “It’s nothing.” I shut my locker.

“Oh. Okay.” Leesa waited, her worried gaze on me. I felt a gush of need to talk to her, unload. Purge. She’d listen.

She’d never judge. She wasn’t like my friends. I smiled at her, easing the concern in her eyes, then turned and left.

I walked toward my last period class dead inside. Not even the image of James’ face lifted my spirits. Wretched abandonment resurfaced inside of me like water ready to drown me. My knees buckled. Tears pounded for release behind my eyes.

I decided to ditch last period.

I found a moving truck in our driveway, its fat rear end butting up to our front door. Stacey was in her fawn-colored
Juicy
velour sweats barking out orders to two bulbous movers making trips in and out of our house with chairs and paintings.

Stacey’s brown eyes widened when she saw me. “What are you doing home?”

“What are you doing?” I demanded. One of the movers had just hoisted an old painting from the living room. Dad and I had had the painting long before Stacey had come into the picture. “That’s Dad’s!”

“It’s mine now. Just take it,” she ordered the mover when he stopped. He looked at me.

“It’s not yours.” My voice raised an octave.

“Shut up, Eden.” She swung her ample hips around and stayed on the heels of the movers.

Irate, I went out the front door and marched up the ramp and into the moving van to see what she had taken. I gasped, pulling out my cell phone. I dialed Dad. The phone rang and rang. Then I got his voice mail. He never picked up when I called.

Traipsing back into the house, I dodged a mover with a set of lamps. “You can’t take whatever you want,” I told her.

“Oh, yes I can.” She cocked one of her hips. “Your father and I came to an agreement. Now go plug into your iPod and shut up.”

Dad may not have wanted that old painting or even the fancy lamps, but my mother had wanted them at one point and seeing them carried out ripped open old scabs deep inside. “I don’t want you taking anything!”

“Tough!”

“You take what you bought and leave what was my mom’s!”

She angled her head as she slowly came toward me. Her eyes lit with spite. “I’m taking my crap and your mother’s crap, Eden. How do you like that?”

I slapped her.

The movers froze. Rage turned her brown eyes black.

She slapped me. The sting sunk through my cheek to my jaw, rattling my teeth. Tears sprung from my eyes. A sob choked my throat. I was ready to beg. I had so little of my mother, to see any of her possessions being taken from me pierced deep in that hollow, abandoned place inside of me.

“I’m calling Dad,” I managed to say.

“You do that.”

I turned, my fingers frantically pressing his number.

Again, he didn’t answer. I pressed speed dial over and over again and continued to get his voice mail.

Stacey went back to ordering the men. I crumpled on the bottom step of the stairway, tears streaming out of control down my face. Each time something of my mother’s passed me, more tender scabs were ripped away.

I endured an hour of the infliction before I went to my bedroom. I slammed the door to show my displeasure and so I wouldn’t hear her flirting with the movers.

I fell onto my bed as if a flood was ready to burst me open, my insides ready to explode. Through tears I looked at my watch. School let out ten minutes ago. I quickly raced down the stairs, pretending not to notice the holes Stacey’s greed had left in our home.

She didn’t say anything. I doubt she even saw me leave.

I got in my car, screeched down the drive, and headed to school.

I parked in the red, as near to the music room as I could. I ran to the closed door and yanked. It was locked.

Frantically I pounded on the cold steel surface, the dam of emotions inside of me pressing against my will, threatening to burst.

When the door opened, tears streamed from my eyes.

“Eden?”

I almost dove into him, so anxious to bury myself somewhere. He moved aside so I could enter.

When I passed him, I took in a deep breath, searching for his scent because it would calm me.

“What happened?” Then his hands were on my shoulders and he turned me to face him. “Eden?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t… I had to talk to someone.”

“Okay. You want to sit down?”

I wanted him touching me. I didn’t want to move. I shook my head, staring up into his face as if it was a rope and I was lost at sea.

He tentatively skimmed his fingers from my shoulders to my elbows, sending rockets of heat up my arm and through my now trembling body. Immobile, I stood with my teary gaze locked with his. “Just a minute.” He went over and locked the door, then came back, standing so close, the spicy orange scent of him soothed me. “What happened?”

I took a deep breath. “Today… was a very bad day for me.” Though tears balanced on my lashes, I fought letting them fall. “Things just… they got out of control. My dad and my stepmom were arguing this morning. They’ve been arguing a lot lately, so, you know, it’s no big deal. When I got home, she was moving her stuff out. But not just that, she was taking some of my mom’s stuff.
My mom.
It’s so wrong.” My chest buckled, and I knew another sob was coming. His eyes were so caring, I couldn’t stop crying.

I wept openly, hunching over in an effort to cover how deeply this tore at me.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was a soft whisper, and I continued to weep uncontrollably. Finally, I looked at him.

His face was twisted in discomfort. I wasn’t sure if it was for me or for him.

More than anything, I wanted him to do something.

What, I wasn’t sure. I knew he couldn’t go to my house and straighten out Stacey. I felt like I had the day they’d lowered my mom’s casket into that deep hole. Part of me had wanted to fall down in there with her. Another part of me had held onto my dad’s hand like a life line. But he’d let me go.

With tender hesitation, James wrapped his arms around me. Heat wound around my grief. I was drawn to the flame as helplessly as a moth, and my arms slid around him. His gentle hand soothed my head in soft strokes. The comforting sensations were so strong, my weeping began to subside.

The first moment of silence between us steamed hot as an August day. I went still. My head pressed against the firm contours of his chest. I heard his heart thudding. Felt him swallow. Felt his comforting caress slow and finally stop. He held me for what seemed like minutes of thick, heavy quiet. Then his hands slipped up to my shoulders and he eased me back. His gaze was like tightrope strung between us and we each held an end.

“I’m sorry I unloaded on you.” I was mortified. I’d gone into his arms like a baby. I had the horrible realization that he now saw me as a child. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sure my problems are the last thing you wanted to know.”

“I’m glad you told me.”

“Just what you needed, right?”

“It’s scary when things happen at home.”

I nodded, another rush of pressure building in my chest. “And my friends bailed on me. All of them.”

“All?”

“The ones I hang with—my core group. At the beginning of the semester I decided I didn’t want to be attached, you know? So Matt and I broke things off. He’s been a total retard about it since. Now, my best friend Brielle, has moved in on him. That doesn’t bother me. The thing is I know he’s just using her.”