Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1) (2 page)

BOOK: Chaos (The Realmwalker Chronicles Book 1)
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CHAPTER 2

I pull into
my usual parking space in the south lot on campus. It’s one of the farthest spots from the buildings but it’s also under a large tree. Parking in the shade at this time of year can mean the difference between getting into a 120-degree car at the end of the day and getting into a 150-degree car.

It’s still pretty early and there are only one or two other students around, so I find a bench next to the lockers and begin studying for the umpteenth time. Submerged in my notes, campus buzzes with the chatter of students before I know it. I look up and scan the crowd for familiar faces. Everyone seems more upbeat than normal. The school year is almost over and the anticipation for lazy summer days is palpable. It doesn’t hurt either that tomorrow is Friday, and for most of the students here, the last day of finals.

I see Kevin about ten yards off and heading in my direction. It’s no coincidence I’m sitting on the bench closest to his locker. His adorable, floppy brown hair bounces in his eyes as he walks. He brushes it away and looks up.

All right, Addy, smile. Just smile at him. It isn’t hard
. His eyes travel toward where I’m sitting and my heart does a quick double-beat. There’s a funny fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach. As I’m deciding how big my smile should be, and what type of smile I should give, and how long I should maintain eye contact, Kevin’s best friend Josh runs up to him and puts his arm across his shoulders, commanding all his attention.

Darn
.

A shrill voice pierces through the crowd noise. “What … in the hell … are you wearing?”

I clench my jaw and sigh inwardly. Tori. My best friend. As she stomps over to where I’m sitting, her stilettos clack-clack-clack angrily on the concrete and her earrings and wrist bangles jingle frantically.

“Good morning, Tor!” I smile up at her, hoping to dispel the coming rebuke, but to no avail.

“My gosh, Addy. Why do you do this to me?” She gestures somewhat hysterically at my clothing. “I know you own nice clothes! I bought them for you!” Her voice gets louder and higher in pitch as she goes on. “You’ve had that shirt since the fifth grade, for crying out loud!”

People are beginning to stare. I glance toward Kevin’s locker and find to my horror that he and Josh are watching the scene. I look down into my physics notes on my lap to avoid seeing Kevin’s face. I can’t bear to see if he’s laughing. My cheeks are hot and I know I’m blushing.

“It isn’t that bad, Tor.” I say defensively as I examine my clothing. I’m in a pair of slightly torn and faded jeans and my old black
Felix the Cat
shirt. They’re both worn thin and as a result have become soft and light and are the most comfortable clothing I own.

“I wanted to be comfy for finals,” I explain.

She rolls her eyes and heaves a sigh as she plops down next to me. As she begins rummaging through her oversized designer purse, she says, “Whatever, Addy. You need to keep in mind you’re almost done with your high school career and you’re going to have to grow up sometime.”

Tori and I have a bizarre relationship. We have absolutely nothing in common and I don’t believe that either of us particularly likes the other. But we continue to call each other friends. We met in third grade and were instantly best friends. We spent every weekend through the school year together playing, and every day in the summertime. Then in the seventh grade, her estranged grandfather died quite suddenly and left an obscene amount of money to her father. It might sound like something straight out of the movies, but it really happened.

At first, I was ecstatic for Tori. They immediately sold their old double-wide trailer and moved into a sprawling, three-story mansion surrounded by acres of horse property. Her parents bought nicer cars for themselves and a thoroughbred for Tori.

They started traveling a lot and went on cruises to exotic places every other month. I hardly saw her anymore. When we were together, we were either bored out of our minds because we couldn’t find a shared interest, or we were at each other’s throats arguing. Suddenly, we couldn’t relate to each other anymore. I couldn’t compete with her expensive toys and exciting new lifestyle. We were on the verge of going our separate ways. Then came that awful day in August and I found myself fatherless and in desperate need of comfort and friendship.

Tori had been my best friend for years, and even though we drifted apart, she knew me better than anyone. I really needed her during that difficult time and she was there for me. Even though we would probably both be happier apart, I believe we’re still friends because of a mutual sense of guilt: She would feel guilty ditching me because my dad died, and I would feel guilty ditching her because she was there for me through the hardest time of my life.

So now we’re “besties” who are nearly complete opposites. She’s a blonde (from a bottle), who has blue eyes (thanks to colored contacts), a figure to die for (yes, she paid for that too), and wears expensive designer clothes and accessories.

I, on the other hand, value comfort over couture, practicality over pretty. And I still have only my natural God-given body parts to work with. I decide not to let the minor public humiliation of her critique on my appearance ruin my day.

“So are you ready for third hour?” I ask, as she perfects her lip gloss in her compact mirror’s reflection.

“I think so. My tutor gave me a practice test yesterday and I aced it. I’m feeling pretty good.”

“This is your last final, isn’t it?” I ask.

She nods her head as she puts her makeup back into her purse. She gets a devious grin on her face and says, “Daddy says if I ace all my finals I can trade in Trixie for next year’s model!”

Trixie is Tori’s cute little red convertible.

“I thought that was going to be your graduation present.”

Her expression gets even more devious, if that’s at all possible. “Nope! My mom finally convinced him to let me go to Paris!” She grabs my shoulders and shakes me. “Avec Jordan!” she squeaks.

“Whoa,” is all I can manage. Jordan is Tori’s older boyfriend. He’s twenty-two and attends the local community college. He doesn’t have a job, or any motivation to get one. Why would he? He still lives at home and his parents pay for his car and schooling and endless partying. He is frequently drunk and reeks of cigarette smoke. Tori’s father hates him.

“I know! I can’t believe it! My mom is an angel!”

I’m thinking to myself how I’m not certain what kind of angel would send their teenage daughter on a trip halfway around the world with someone like Jordan. Since their increase in wealth, Tori’s mother Candice has done everything in her power to regain her youth, which includes being the “cool” mom and allowing her daughter to do basically whatever she wants. I do a mental eye roll as I wonder how “Candi” thinks this couldn’t possibly come back to haunt her.

Tori glows, however, looking rather like the cat that caught the canary. Before I get a chance to discuss the matter more with her, the first bell rings. I cram my notes into my bag and glance up in the direction of my first-hour AP government class, which happens to be located across the hall from Kevin Ludlow’s first-hour Spanish 3 class. I see him ahead of me talking with Josh and watch the back of his head as Tori and I walk. While she rambles on about her plan of attack on the tourist attractions in and around Paris, Kevin looks back over his shoulder and our eyes lock.

He is looking right at me. Blatantly and openly. He smiles. I smile. We hold eye contact for a second before he turns around and disappears through his classroom doorway.

Did that just happen? I’m light-headed and giddy and not even hearing Tori anymore. Her chatter is a distant buzz in the background. Did Kevin really turn and look at me? I can’t stop my smile from turning into a huge grin that spreads across my whole face.

He is so adorable with his sweet brown eyes and crooked smile. But why would he smile at me? I’ve never even talked to him, except to lend him a pencil one time in class. Was my infatuation with him so obvious that he had caught on? That would be so embarrassing! But still, if he didn’t like me, why smile at me?

Then it hits me like a runaway train and my smile disappears. Of course he wasn’t looking at me. I’m walking with Tori, one of the prettiest girls in school. It’s nearly impossible to get noticed in her company. How could I have thought that smile was meant for me? I try not to resent Tori for this. I already have enough of that to fight off.

“So, I was hoping I could get them to let me stay two weeks instead of one but that is going to take some serious charming on my part,” Tori’s still talking away, oblivious to the fact that I’ve not listened to a word she’s said.

“Well, good luck. Knowing your dad, he’ll probably cave in,” I say as we reach my class door. “Hey, have a good morning, Tor. I’ll see you third hour.”

“Yeah, see ya,” she says as she waves over her shoulder and heads off to AP chem.

I duck into class before the warning bell can ring. Today’s an easy day in government. We took the written part of our final on Monday; every day since we’ve spent giving and listening to the oral presentations that make up the other half of our final. Mine isn’t scheduled until tomorrow, so today I sit back and listen. I take notes and try to focus on what the other kids are saying so my mind doesn’t wander back to Kevin and his smile.

Second hour is intermediate art—my favorite class. We’ve been meeting in the library this week trying to set up for the end-of-the-year art exhibit. Each year three students are chosen throughout the art departments (performing and applied) to be showcased as “Tomorrow’s Stars.” They get an entire section of the exhibit for their work. My art teacher, Mrs. McCowen, nominated me this year and I found out last week that I was chosen!

It’s a huge honor and one that I’m sure will look good on my college application – if and when I decide to apply. With money being tight, and mom already paying for Jana’s tuition, I haven’t decided if I’ll even make it to college.

When class starts, I still haven’t made up my mind on which works to display, but by the end of the hour, and with the help of Mrs. McCowen, I’ve finally decided on a lineup for my section of the exhibit.

My third-hour physics final takes almost the whole hour, but when I’m finished I know I’ll earn at least a “B” on it. When class ends, Tori and I walk to our lockers together to drop our stuff off before we go to lunch.

“How do you think you did?” I ask.

“How, you say? Magnifique!” she says in a flawless French accent. She throws her head back and her hands up and shouts, “OH, no more finals! Paris, here I come!”

The rest of the school day goes pretty well. I don’t get up the nerve to speak to Kevin in my fifth-hour class and he doesn’t flash his smile at me, which only confirms my previous suspicions—he’d been smiling at Tori.

I meet her at the lockers when school’s out. She’s talking with some of the other “high-maintenance” girls, so I hang back and wait for her. The sun’s beating down and there’s no breeze today. I’m dreading getting into my truck. The air conditioning usually doesn’t start to kick in until I’m pulling into my driveway. Tori looks like she has news to share when she makes it over my way.

“I got a text from Jordan last hour. He says he’s throwing a party tomorrow night. I was just telling Emily to invite everyone she knows. You should come by. There will be a ton of college boys there!” She smiles and winks at me. I have a moment of complete panic as I search for some valid-sounding excuse not to be there. Then with relief, I remember Jana’s in town and we’re supposed to have a girls’ night out tomorrow, just the two of us.

“Oh shoot. I can’t.” I put on my best bummed-out look. “Jana’s here this weekend and I promised to go shopping with her.” As we walk out to the parking lot, I realize I’m actually looking forward to spending time with Jana.

I say good-bye to Tori and head home. Sure enough, I’m sweating buckets by the time I get there so I take a quick shower. When I’m finished and getting dressed in my room, I hear dishes clinking in the kitchen. Mom must be home from her part-time job at the post office. I head to the kitchen to help her unload the dishwasher.

“Hey!” she greets me with a smile. “Sooooo? How did you do?”

I laugh because I know she’s been wondering all day how my test went. “Great, I think. There were only a few questions I wasn’t positive about. It was multiple-choice answers, though, so I still have a decent chance of getting those right.” I can tell she’s relieved. We talk about her day and she tells me a funny story about a friend of hers at work. As she laughs, her blue eyes sparkle and the lines at the corners of her eyes crinkle up. I can’t help but be so grateful I have her in my life.

Losing a parent can put life into perspective, forcing you to view everything so differently. You cherish and love the ones that remain with you. You recognize moments like this as precious. You study every detail and commit it to your memory so you have it with you always. Hopefully, someday I’ll have enough of these types of memories to fill up the empty space inside.

Jana gets home from visiting a friend and Mom orders delivery pizza. We all sit around the television and watch the news as we eat. Stories about Hurricane Ilsa and all the devastation it’s left behind are everywhere. Rich Bennet, the lead anchor from Channel 5 news, is on site and stands in front of a pile of rubble that used to be a church. He wears a solemn expression as he tells how the estimated death toll has climbed to over three hundred.

I look out our back window and see the sun glaring in the sky. I can almost feel it sucking all the moisture from the dirt and plants and air, and I marvel at the thought that a handful of states east of here, entire towns have been torn apart by storms and floods.

After dinner, I practice my presentation for government a few times with Mom and Jana as my audience. My topic is on creating stricter laws and punishments for repeat domestic abuse offenders. I take their suggestions and tweak a few things until I’m satisfied with it. By the time I finish, it’s only early evening, but last night’s lack of sleep is really kicking in. I get ready for bed, kiss Mom good night, stick my tongue out at Jana, and head to my room. I climb into my queen-sized bed and stare at the shapes that the fading light from my window makes on my ceiling. I put a slow song on my iPhone on repeat. Before it can play through even once, I’m asleep.

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