Dark Angel (Anak Trilogy) (7 page)

Finally, I drifted off to sleep. It seemed as though I had only been asleep for a few minutes when I awoke suddenly. I thought someone had touched me. My eyes slowly
adjusted to the dark and focused on someone standing in the corner of my bedroom. Frightened, I fumbled for the switch to turn on the lamp beside my bed. As the light flooded the room, I could see that no one was there. I must have been dreaming again. I was probably just imagining everything, but here in my room, in the middle of the night, I was not so sure anymore. Anything seemed possible.  My thoughts immediately went to Zell. Perhaps, he was a not the good guy he seemed to be. There was definitely something off about him just showing up in Dacula, Georgia saying he knew me. Perhaps, he is a psychopath like Ted Bundy, nice on the eyes, but having the heart of a killer. My blood ran cold, and I shivered. Sleep was almost impossible.

I was nervous
the next morning. I washed my hair over and over again to make it shine. I even rolled it on a few electric rollers. The last time I rolled my hair was the previous spring for junior-senior prom. I must be losing my mind, but I could not stop. I was out of control. I was dressing for someone who may not give me the time of day especially since I was someone else’s girlfriend. Nothing I did makes sense to me anymore. I carefully put on make-up so that my complexion was smooth and even. My hands shook as I made toast for breakfast. Even with the elaborate dressing ritual that I had just performed, it was still too early to leave for school.

Dad walked in the kitchen and jumped back startled dropping the paper he had just retrieved from the sidewalk.

“Annie, I didn’t expect you in the kitchen so early. You surprised me,” Dad said adjusting his glasses. “Is it picture day at school?” he added noticing that I was not in jeans and a tee-shirt.

Dad didn’t intrude much in my life. His faith had been his profession and family since my mom died. I th
ink he was afraid of attachment. I think he was fearful that he would lose me too and have his heart shredded once more. The only time I have seen him cry was the day my mother died in the accident. I had been thrown from the car and survived. Sometimes in those early years of her death, I would catch him looking at me strangely. I often thought he must wonder why I didn’t die instead of her. I was almost a mirror image of my mother. My mother wore her hair short, so I wore mine long. She was so beautiful that she never wore make-up, so I did. She was a real Beaver Cleaver’s mom. You know, she vacuumed wearing pearls, so I was the biggest tomboy ever. Not because I didn’t want to look like my mom, but I did it for my dad’s sake. The less I reminded him of her, the happier he seemed to appear. I knew it must rip his heart out every time he looks at me because I could have been her clone.

“You look beautiful, dear,” he complimented me nervously adjusting his glasses again.
My dad had trouble showing emotion. Emotional issues made him a basket case. He wasn’t that way before she died. He had shriveled up emotionally after Mom’s death. 

I missed my mother. I was terrified of forgetting her. I had to keep a picture of her by the bed in my room to remind myself of what she looked like.
I had been only five years old when she died. I still remember her smell and the way she felt when she held me in her arms, but her memory was fading.

“No, it’s not picture day. I just felt like dressing up,” I said reaching up on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “I’m headed out
for school. I want to get there early today. There’s a new guy at school who is in all my classes, and he sits by me without fail. I want to get there early enough to make sure he doesn’t get a seat close to me.”

“This young man is not harassing you, is he?”

“No, he’s just new and very popular, and it’s a big distraction.” I hurried from the kitchen and picked up my book bag from the table beside the door that led to the garage where my car was parked. It had taken a lot of persuasion to convince my dad to let me buy a car and drive. Old fears from my mother’s death crowded our lives and made it difficult for him to accept the fact that I was growing up. Growing up meant that I would leave one day, and he would be alone.

Dad had taken the life insurance money he received from my mother’s death and put it in a trust fund for me. Every
month, a few hundred dollars were put into an account for me to use until my 21
st
birthday when I would receive the rest if I wanted. I appreciated having money of my own. That fact allowed me to play sports and not have to work a part-time job after school or constantly bug my father for money. It was also responsible for the dozens of pairs of shoes in my closet.

Hitting the remote to open the garage door, I threw my book bag in the passenger side of the car and walked around to the other side of the car. Hoisting myself into the driver’s seat, I crammed my keys in the ignition and put the SUV in reverse. Seconds later a loud crash made me stomp my right foot on the brake. I looked in the
rear-view mirror and groaned. I backed into a silver convertible sports car. Through the rear-view mirror, I couldn’t tell what kind it was, but I could tell it looked very, very expensive. Throwing open the door of my vehicle, I jumped out of the car and walked toward the car that I just backed into. I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw who sat behind the wheel. It was Zell.

“What are you doing in my driveway?” I yelled at him.

“I thought we might ride to school together,” he explained smiling.

“Oh noooo,” I groaned as I walked to the front of his car and noticed the
broken headlight and huge dent in his fender. “Look at your car,” I said spreading my arms imitating the scope of the damage.

“It’s just a car,” Zell replied nonchalantly.

“Just a car,” I squeaked. “It’s a gorgeous car, and it looks incredibly expensive.”

“Expense is relative,” he said shrugging his shoulders.

“Relative to what?” I shouted horrified.

“I guess it’s relative to what you can afford. I can afford to buy a dozen of these and not notice it in my bank account. Would you like this one?” he asked.

“Are you insane?” I screeched. “My dad would never let me drive this car. It’s too fast and too small. Only a Sherman tank is good enough for me according to my dad.”

“Well now,” Zell said lightly as he joined me at the front of his car and surveyed the damage. “I suppose you will have to give me a ride to school.”

“It’s only a broken headlight and a dent, a rather enormous one, but still just a dent. Your car is drivable,” I argued.

“Yes, but will you follow me to the body shop near the school and give me a lift?
I can’t stalk you with only one headlight.” Zell laughed at the expression on my face when he said that.

“
I will leave it there to be repaired, and you can be my chauffeur until I get it back,” he explained grinning at me mischievously.

“Are you a psycho?”

“Yesterday you called me a creep and a stalker. Then today the morning has barely begun, and you call me a psycho. If I wasn’t so incredibly well-adjusted, my self-esteem would be shattered,” Zell said trying to look hurt.

“Just get in the car and cut the crap. I’ll follow you,” I sighed exasperated.

“By the way, you look lovely,” he whispered drawing close to me.

“Yeah, I bet you say that to all the girls who crash into your car at 7:00 o’clock in the morning,” I replied as I turned away from him, climbed in my car, and slammed the door.

I followed Zell to the repair shop and waited while he went inside to talk to the owner of the shop. While he was inside, I took a closer look at his car. OMG, he was driving a Lamborghini. I didn’t know what one cost, but I knew it probably cost him more than my dad paid for our house. I really felt crappy now.

I was all apologies when Zell returned to the car. “I’m so sorry
that I was rude to you yesterday. I’ve been really tired lately, and I guess I took it out on you. I’m rarely rude to anyone. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way, and I want to formally apologize.”

“No worries,” Zell said kindly and smiled at me.

“And I want to apologize about your car. I’m so sorry about wrecking it. I didn’t know you drove such an expensive car. Why
do
you drive such an expensive car anyway?” I asked abruptly getting personal.

“It was for sale,” he answered shrugging his shoulders.

“Are your parents rich?” I asked pursuing the question in my mind of how a high-school senior could afford a Lamborghini.

“Something like that. Annie, could you stop at the deli down from the school?” Zell asked changing the subject.

“Sure,” I said as I put my tank in reverse and slowly pulled out into traffic.

The deli in question was more of a self-service station with a snack bar inside. A few booths and tables filled an addition to the building. In the mornings, they served bagels, biscuits, muffins, coffee, and juice.

I let Zell out and remained in the car looking at my face in the rear-view mirror. I seemed to be getting dark circles around my eyes from my restless nights. He returned a few minutes later with a couple of homemade cinnamon rolls, two bottles of orange juice, and fifteen red roses.

“These are all the roses they had,” he apologized handing them to me. I knew that the store kept them in a vase by the register and charged about five dollars each for them. 

“Why did you buy me roses?” I asked shocked.

“Take it as an apology for being in the wrong driveway at the wrong time,” he quipped handing me a bottle of juice and a cinnamon roll.

“But we’re on the way to school. They will die in the car during the day,” I moaned suddenly sad that Zell’s gift would be short-lived.

“We have plenty of time before school starts. Let’s run back by your house and put them in a vase,” he offered.

I looked at my cell phone. We still had forty-two minutes before the bell rang. Forty-two minutes would be plenty of time to make a quick trip back home and still get to school on time. I handed the roses back to Zell and put the car in reverse. When I pulled into our driveway, Dad was just backing out into the street. He stopped alongside my car and rolled down the window.

“Is something wrong?” he asked confused as to why I had come back home.

“No, nothing’s wrong. It’s a long story. I’ll tell you about it tonight,” I explained.

“Ok, if you’re sure nothing is wrong,” he said concerned.

“Everything’s fine. I just need to run in the house a minute,” I assured him.

“Bye then,” he answered rolling up his window and pulling down the street.

I leaned over to retrieve the roses from Zell. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

I ran for the house being careful not to jostle the roses. Inside, I rummaged through the cupboards looking for a vase. I had never received flowers from anyone, but I thought that my mother had a crystal vase somewhere. I moved to the formal dining room and spied the vase inside my mother’s
China cabinet. I was filling the vase with water when I felt someone behind me. I turned to see Zell close behind me watching me. I didn’t know if it was fear or excitement at being alone in the house with him, but I began shaking.

“You could’ve stayed in the car. I’ll only be a minute,” I told him.

“I like watching you,” he replied.

When he said that, I didn’t know whether to be frightened or delighted.
My thoughts went back to last night and all the terrible suspicions that I had about Zell. Now, here I was all alone with him in my home. My heart started beating frantically. To hide my feelings, I busied myself arranging the roses in the vase. I carried them to the table in the entry foyer. A big mirror hung from the wall behind the table. The roses looked beautiful on the table, and their beauty was reflected in the mirror. Not bad for convenience store roses, and they were my first ever bouquet. I could tell by the reflection in the mirror that Zell was again standing behind me. I stood for several seconds looking in the mirror watching Zell watch me. I turned around to face him.

“Thank you. They are lovely,” I said softly looking up into his
face trying not to reveal this strange mixture of fear and gratitude that washed through me. “No one has ever given me roses before.”

“I thought you would have received dozens of roses by now
. Still, no rose has ever been as lovely as you,” he replied moving close and looking into my eyes. Gently, he lifted my hand and pressed my palm to his cheek. For a brief moment, he closed his eyes and smiled.  I felt as though my legs were melting. He moved my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. Still holding my hand, he slowly pulled me to him and held me tight against him for several minutes.

“Don’t be afraid, Annie. I only came by this morning because I want to get to know you. I want us to be good friends.
I thought I would offer you a ride to school. I don’t guess my plan worked very well.”  Then, as abruptly as this little romantic interlude began, it stopped.

Still holding my hand, he pulled me to the door. “Biology calls,” was all he said.
I breathed a sigh of relief and locked the door. I stood quietly for a moment facing the door trying to still my racing heart. When I turned around, he stood holding open the passenger-side door for me. When I looked puzzled, “If you don’t mind, I’ll drive. I can afford the ticket,” he laughed. He was right. If the police could have seen the blur that was my car, he would have received a ticket. I have never seen anyone drive so fast in my life. I felt as though I were a passenger in a car at the Daytona 500. He smoothly and deftly passed every car between us and Mill Creek High School. We actually pulled into the parking lot with ten minutes to spare. My heart felt as though it had sunk to the pit of my stomach though not from the drive back to school. I wouldn’t admit it to Zell, but that ride was exhilarating. It had sunk because there in the parking lot stood Jon.