Anywhere But Here (9 page)

***

“So, how was your week?” Roberta asked as we each settled into a cushy chair.

“Better, I guess,” I said with a shrug.  “I talked to my brother and we’re going to try to get together one weekend.”

“Good,” Roberta said, bobbing her head.  “Have you talked to your parents?”

“No,” I admitted with a pang.  They hadn’t tried to contact me, either.  “Not since I moved here.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Why should it?” I asked.  “They probably don’t even know I’m gone.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”

“Not much,” I said as I picked at a hangnail.  “Honestly.”

She nibbled her bottom lip, studying me as if I were a strange new strain of flu under a microscope.  “What do you want to talk about today?  Any new friends?  How about your new job?”

“My job is okay – a little boring.”  A slight grin appeared on my face.  “I made a new friend.  He’s a hockey player and we sort of bonded over maple syrup.”

Confusion flushed Roberta’s face and I quickly explained everything to her – surprising even myself as I hadn’t told Aunt Franki.  But then, Roberta was sworn to secrecy.

“Wow,” she said when I finished.  “What are you going to do?”

“Keep hanging out with Fin,” I said simply.

Her eyes narrowed
in on my face, analyzing my intentions.  “Are you only friends with Fin because you know it will anger Gina more?”

I pieced my answer together carefully in my head before sharing it with her.  “In a way, I guess.  But in a way, not.”  I sighed, dropping my hands to my lap.  “He’s okay.  I was a little rude to him at first but he’
s been nothing but nice so I decided to apologize.  He gets on my nerves a bit but he’s not a bad person.”

Roberta speculated my answer.  “I’m not sure if I approve of this…friendship…but we’ll monitor it.  Maybe it will blossom into something real.”

“It’s not a flower,” I said with an eye roll.

She laughed and patted my hand.  “So, tell me what else is going on.”

I described my classes, went over my job again, and told her about Fin, Grant, Damon, and the others.  The hour zoomed by and when our session ended, I was relieved that she hadn’t even mentioned Camille.

“I’ll see you next week, Rena,” R
oberta said as she walked me to the lobby.  I nodded, my heart a bit lighter.

Despite the Gina situation, things weren’t as bad as they’d first seemed when I’d decided to move to Dunewood.  Maybe, just maybe, I’d get my act together and actually figure out some kind of life.

For the first time in about six months, a little optimism touched my heart.  I smiled as I drove home.

A good night’s sleep
had pretty much swept away my positive feelings and I had second thoughts about hanging out with Fin and his friends that night.  As I parked my car and headed inside the school, I wondered how I could get out of it.

I trudged through the halls to my locker, noticing more looks thrown my way than usual, and hurried my pace, thinking maybe the horrid syrup incident had been repeated only ten times worse. But when I reached my locker, all was well, except for the lingering scent of maple syrup and industrial cleaning spray.  I sighed in relief and exchanged books for my first class.

“No surprises today?” Damon asked as he fell against the neighboring locker.  He adjusted the beanie on his head and grinned.

I couldn’t resist smiling back.  “Nothing – no pancakes either.”

“Bummer.  I’m hungry.”

I laughed and glanced around us, a tiny frown pulling at my lips.  Although I’d only been attending the small school for two weeks, I’d thought I was past the ‘staring at the new kid’ p
hase.  Apparently not.  Each group that passed by gawked at me like it was my first day all over again.

“Hey,” I said as I closed my locker.  “What’s the deal with everyone staring at me?”

Damon’s brows pulled together as he studied the other students who were no longer walking past my locker but lingering.  “I don’t know.  Maybe they were expecting another prank.”

“Move along,” I growled at a horde of freshmen whispering together as they eyed me suspiciously.  One of the more courageous ones glared and flipped me the bird before grabbing her friend’s arm and hustling toward a classroom.

“Underclassmen,” Damon grumbled as we ambled toward our respective classes.  “So, they’re all staring at you now.  Hm.  Maybe because you are sort of a hottie.”

“Yeah, sure,” I said to cover my embarrassment.  “No, sorry to shoot your theory down but I think it’s something else.”

“I’ll talk to Reg next period – she usually finds this sort of thing out.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, faking indifference.  I didn’t need anyone at this school thinking I was concerned about my social standing or any other insignificant thing like that.  “I need to get to class.  Talk to you later.”

The weird looks continued in my Calculus class and every class after and by the time lunch rolled around, I was completely paranoid.  I hurried to my table, not even bothering with food, and waited anxiously for Reg to join us.  Even though I tried to maintain an air of indifference, I was still curious to figure out what all the hoopla was about.  I mean, I’d been here for two weeks – why the attention now?

“Not eating?” asked Fin as he slipped into a seat next to me.

“Not hungry,” I said as I searched through the throng of students for Reg’s beanie covered head.

“Hey, Gina talked to me earlier and she swears she’s not the
one who sabotaged your locker.”

That caught my attention for the moment and I turned completely in my chair to face him.  “What?  And you believe her?”

He shoveled a spoonful of mashed potatoes into his mouth as he lifted a shoulder.  “Yeah, I think so.”

My eyes narrowed as
my heart cracked.  How could he turn his back on me now?  Especially after he'd instigated this stupid friendship to begin with?

“So, you’re taking her side, huh?”

“No,” he said, his spoon clattering to the table.  “Not at all.  But I really think she is telling the truth.”  He reached for my hand but I snatched it away, tucking it into my lap.  “Rena, Gina’s not the type to do stuff like that, honestly.”

“Whatever,” I said
, not believing him in the least.  “What did she do – flash a seductive smile?  Bat her eyelashes at you?  Did she finally get to you?  Did you realize that she’s wanted to date you forever and you can resist no longer?”

“No, Rena,” he said, his eyes beseeching me.  “No, not at all.  I just know…”

“And I know how girls like her work,” I said as I pushed my chair back and stormed out of the cafeteria, fuming so hard I was sure smoke was chugging out of my ears.  Damn him.  Damn me for believing he wasn’t like the other sheep in this stupid, insipid school.

People stared but it didn’t concern me in the least
.  They already thought I was a raving, rude lunatic, why not add a little kindling to the fire?

I heard footsteps behind me but didn’t dare glance over my shoulder.  Instead, I started to jog, intent only on getting to my car and getting the hell out of Dodge.

Tears burned my eyes and threatened to fall to my cheeks but I fought them valiantly as I fled to my car.  Detention, suspension be damned!  I wasn’t staying here another second!

I peeled out of the parking lot, still not entirely sure why I was mad, but it didn’t matter. 
Lately my emotions had been surfing waves that would make any Californian jealous and I had no control over them – couldn’t leash them like I could the anger-demon.

And my anger-demon was leaping for joy on my
shoulder so I gave him free rein.  I drove recklessly through town and headed for the interstate.  Once I crossed the Indiana state line, I jumped on I-94, taking the Chicago exit.  I didn’t worry if Aunt Franki would be mad.  I didn’t wonder if my parents would notice that I was home or not.  I just didn’t care.

I pounded on the steering wheel, the tears finally free to fall.  They doused the hottest flames of anger and allowed me to calm enough to drop to the posted speed limit and let the miles eat at the rest of my heightened emotions.

I turned into the peaceful subdivision two hours later and wondered, for the first time, what I thought I was doing.

All the drives and sidewalks were clear of snow and the houses free from lingering Christmas decorations.  Each house was nestled comfortably on large lots and children, just off their school bus, were skipping happily toward home.  It painted a sweet picture of a close knit community – except for the last house on the corner -the dull house with packed snow still in the drive and the blinds drawn tight.

Home sweet home.

I parked behind my mother’s car and stepped out, my eyes drinking in the dead leaves poking out b
eneath the snow in the gutters and the sloppy, slushy walkway to the door.  I was an idiot for coming home – nothing had changed.

As soon as the door closed behind me,
Mom rushed into the entry way, her aging face full of hope, but her eyes landed on me and the disappointment took over as her shoulders slumped.

“Rena, honey, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Of course not.  She still thought Camille would stroll through the door at any given moment.

“Sorry, Mom,” was my automatic reply.  What was I doing here?  Did I expect comfort because life was hard?  If I did, it wouldn’t get it here.

She drew me into her arms for a brief, cold embrace. “Um, how are things with Franki?” she asked as if I was a mere acquaintance she hadn’t seen in ages.

“Fine,” I said.  “I missed you and Dad so I thought I’d come home for the weekend,” I lied.  “Is that okay?”

“Of course,” Mom said, absently hugging me, her mind obviously moving on to something else.  “Oh, do you want to see the new posters?  I think they’ll bring in some fresh information.”

“Sure,” I mumbled as I followed her into what used to be our den.

My sister’s dimpled smile greeted me as her face covered every inch of the walls on posters with information about her under the bold heading of “Have You Seen This Child?”  It was enough to sink me even further into despair and I again questioned my reasoning for coming home.

“What do you think?” Mom asked, unrolling a poster that I hadn’t seen before.  It contained a different picture – a full bodied shot of Camille that had been taken a week or so before she’d gone missing.  My heart ached for the little girl that had once wanted to be like me and I fought tears, knowing I had no right to cry.  How dare I feel sorry for myself when my sister had suffered or was still suffering things I could never imagine and never wanted to imagine?  Suddenly, my struggles and roller coaster emotions paled.

“They’re great, Mom,” I choked as I turned and made for the staircase. “I’m just going to go freshen up and stuff,” I called over my shoulder as I took the stairs two at a time.  I found my room and fell on my bed, staring at the ceiling.  My thoughts strayed to Fin and what he must be thinking now.  A twinge of guilt crawled up my throat but I swallowed it quickly.  If he wanted to be my friend so badly then he should have my back and not take the word of some jealous, spiteful little wench.

I dozed off, still unfairly angry at Fin, and didn’t wake until something shook my shoulders.

“Rena?”

I opened my eyes and found my father’s brown ones peering at me in concern.

“Daddy,” I said as a smile found its way to my face.  I sat up and threw my arms around his neck.  His answering embrace wasn’t as warm as I would have liked but I would take whatever he was willing to give.  “I missed you.”

“Why are you home, Rena?” he asked as he drew back.  “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, I just wanted to see you and Mom.”

“You should have called, honey,” he said as he perched on the edge of my bed.  “Not that I don’t want you here because I miss you, too, but your mother is all in a tizzy because we’re supposed to attend a dinner tonight to raise money for the Missing Children Foundation.  We didn’t know you’d be here this weekend.”

“Dad
,” I said as the familiar blanket of guilt wrapped around my shoulders.  “I am fine being here alone.  Don’t worry about me.”

“I know, honey,” he said.  “But I hate to leave you when you’re here for the weekend.”

Studying him seriously, I noticed how much older he appeared.  He was only in his mid-forties but he looked as if he’d aged a decade.  His once tidy hair was messy and thinner and lines had popped out all over his face.  His eyes were dull and his lips seemed to be permanently turned down into a frown.  And the struggles in those eyes were only apparent to me.  I knew he didn’t want to blame me and I also knew that I deserved it.  My returning home only brought more pain on those that I loved.  What had I been thinking?

“Maybe I should just go ho….um, back to Aunt Franki’s,” I mumbled, dropping my gaze.  “I should have called or something.”

“No,” Dad objected.  “Franki called while you were resting and I told her you were here and that you’d be back Sunday night.”  He tried to smile as he squeezed my arm.  “Stay, honey, please.”