Landlocked (A water witch novel) (21 page)

“Between the Magnolia blossoms and Jazz band, this is going to be a total Louisiana party… Earth to Maribel.”

I turned toward her. “Sorry, what were you saying?”

“Oh never mind, you have boy on the brain, quite a terrible condition,” she said. “Didn’t you get your fix when he drove you here this morning?”

“Oh!” That reminded me. “Why didn’t you tell me that you told Jaron where my painting was hanging?”

“I didn’t plan on bringing it up because it was kind of weird.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I went home to grab something and was kind of late getting back to school. When I got out of my car, I saw that someone else was as late as me. I caught up and saw it was Jaron, only…”

“Only… What?” I asked.

“Well he was totally checked out, and his eyes were all red… he looked terrible.” She glanced at her watch. “We should get going.”

I picked up my tray. “So what does this have to do with you telling him about the painting?”

“Well he looked so bad, I asked him what was wrong and he ignored my question and asked where your painting was to change the subject or something.”

Walking to the first class after lunch, I tried not to be annoyed at Clarissa, who was still talking about how strange Jaron seemed when she bumped into him after lunch the day before. “He was out of it, girl. Barely even noticed me. I don’t know what was up, but something was for sure.”

I sighed, tired of the conversation already. “I don’t know what was up either, but he seems fine today,” I said as we rounded a corner almost bumping into someone that was hurrying into the building. “Sorry—” I paused when I realized it was Jaron.

His mouth fell open for a moment then he tried to compose himself. I could see the redness in his eyes. His face was so distant and blank. “Oh, I didn’t see you.”

“Can you see anything at all, if not, I could have the skate boarders loan you some Clear Eyes,” Clarissa said.

I wasn’t sure what skate boarders had to do with clear eyes, or how either of them related to Jaron. I looked at Clarissa and moved my eyes forward, she took the clue and walked away.

“Is everything all right?” I asked.

He rolled his head around his shoulders. “Everything is fine. Hey, listen…” He gave me a look of longing. His eyes were full of despair. “I got to run.” He walked away, pausing for a moment then pressing on.

Clarissa was right. Something was weird with him. But he had been fine before lunch. What had happened? I huffed, once again reminded of how little he let me into his world. I was glad to be anywhere in it at all, but it would have been a lot easier to get by if he informed me a little better. Right now I thought I would probably need to invest in a neck brace from the whiplash of his mood swings. I mean, I had lost my parents too, but I didn’t go up and down like a flipping yo-yo. I remembered what he had said while looking at my painting, something about being in shark-infested waters… crazy and tired from fighting. What was he fighting, and who were the sharks?

11

“If you don’t hold still, I will turn off your tunes,” Sylvia said around a mouthful of pins.

Clarissa stopped swaying to Rihanna’s We found love, a pop song that I actually liked, and was begging to understand a little too well.

“Wow, good threat. I would have gone with, ‘or I’ll stick you with a pin.’ You’re well equipped for that one,” I said.

“What, you don’t think I’ll turn down the radio?” Sylvia asked.

“No,” both Clarissa and I said in unison. I looked over at her and we both busted up laughing.

“Oh, I guess I really am an old soft serve, I wouldn’t turn off your radio. But I will stick you with a pin if you don’t stop dancing, accidentally of course.”

“I will do my best not to move,” Clarissa promised. However much she told me she didn’t want to do the debutant thing at the start, she was beaming with excitement now. It was sure to be the bash of the year. “Aren’t you getting fitted for anything?” she asked.

“No, I’ve got a little something in my closet that will work.”

“Is it new?” she asked.

“No.”

“Is it one of Sylvia’s one of a kind designs?”

“Nope, I think I got it at the Mall last year.”

“Old and off the rack? Sylvia, I’ve never seen you let Maribel do a formal function like this.”

“I’d never make her do such a thing. It’s of her choosing,” Sylvia said as she fumbled with the deep blue fabric.

Clarissa narrowed her eyes. “Let me guess, you have a gorgeous gown waiting in the wings for her, but she chose not to wear it so that I stood out on my day.”

“Pretty accurate,” Sylvia said as she stuck a pin in the hem.

“You are so predictable, Maribel. Wear what you like, but you are more than welcome to rock everybody’s socks off with a banging dress. You’re like the debutant of honor or whatever,” she said, standing straighter as Sylvia tugged the skirt down so it laid flat.

“Wouldn’t I need to be a debutant to be a debutant of honor, if that in fact is a real thing.” I didn’t know much about the crazy tradition but I wasn’t sure that it was entirely possible to hold that title.

“Well you’re a debutant by association. All of this is just as fake as all of the other rich people titles. And besides, Jaron’s coming. I know you want to look extra good for him… of course you would look extra good in a potato sack.” She shook her head. “Have you seen the dress yet?”

“No,” I said. I really did want to look good for Jaron. “Sylvia, can we see it?” I asked quickly.

“Hold on,” she said, standing up. “I’ll run and get it.” She grinned and clapped her hands.

Clarissa admired herself in the full-length mirror.

“You really do look amazing,” I said.

“Debutants are supposed to wear white. My mom strayed a bit from tradition and wore a muted pink dress. Dark blue is something you don’t do for a debutant ball,” she said absentmindedly.

“Well, the dress is beautiful and you look perfect in it. Why does the color matter?”

“I don’t know, it’s just tradition. That is what the whole debutant thing is all about. I don’t mind breaking tradition though, especially one that is so stupid and meaningless… I’ll wear a white dress at my wedding, unlike you if you and Jaron keep up the way you‘re going,” she said with a grin.

“Shut up!” I laughed looking at the door to make sure Sylvia was still out of earshot.

“Oh!” She mimed locking her mouth and throwing away the key.

“Right, how long can that possibly last?” I asked as Sylvia came in with a long white plastic bag.

Clarissa’s eyes got wide. “Normally I’d try to go like two or three minutes without talking just to prove a point, but I have to be able to say, ‘Eeeee!’ when I see your dress, or I can no longer call myself a woman.” Her phone on the side table vibrated and she grinned when she looked at the screen. “It’s a text from my dad, maybe he’ll make it tomorrow after all!” She read the text and frowned. “He just wanted to know where I was and if I was having a good time getting everything read for the party. But he still isn’t coming.” She sent a quick reply and remained sullen. “Cheer me up, Sylvia. Let me see your creation.”

Sylvia hung the dress on a hook and unzipped it dramatically. The breath came out of me in a rush. It was the most beautiful dress I had ever seen. The materiel was a silk chiffon that was the exact green blue color of my eyes and it was fitted down to the knee where it flared out. The skirt was covered in large iridescent gold sequins that overlapped each other like chinks of armor. Sylvia pulled the dress out of the bag.

“Try it on!” She helped me into the dress and smiled at me. “Turn around, look at the back.”

I looked over my shoulder in the mirror. The back was cut in an extremely low V that stopped at my lower back, and the sequins from the skirt climbed up in an arching peak to meet the deep V. It was gorgeous and sexy. Much more so than any other dress Sylvia had ever made for me.

“Wow, Sylvia, it’s amazing.”

“Va-va-voom, that’s like a Jessica Rabbit dress. Dang girl, Jaron’s eyes will pop out of his head when he sees you,” Clarissa said.

“You look beautiful, so grown up,” Sylvia said from behind me.

“Well, you don’t need to tailor this one. It fits perfectly.”

The silky fabric clung to my skin nicely and highlighted curves that I'd never noticed I had. I wondered if Jaron would notice or think I was beautiful in it. Or if something would happen to keep him from the ball. The way he was so out of it after lunch, maybe he wouldn’t even show up tomorrow. I looked out the window as I slipped out of my gown. It was still raining. Jaron had been so sweet keeping the umbrella over me while the rain pelted him. But when I bumped into him in the hall, looking awful, he chose to bail instead of talking to me about whatever was going on with him. The doorbell rang, pulling my out of my thoughts.

Sylvia’s eyebrows pulled together, apparently not expecting anyone. “Hold on I’ll be right back…” she said, setting down her scissors.

“Were you guys expecting someone?” Clarissa asked, still trying to stand still in her gown.

“Not that I know of.”

“Your gown is amazing, by the way. It’s crazy, the dress doesn’t wear you and you don’t wear it, it’s like it you wear each other. No one else could rock that like you,” she said smiling down at me.

Her eyes were soft and I could see that she really did look at me like a little sister. I imagined that her sweet loving gaze was how a big sister would look at her younger sibling.

“Same goes for you. You will be the bell of the ball.” I crossed the room and took both of her hands in mine. More than once I had wished that we could adopt Clarissa and make her my sister for real. Her family didn’t deserve her.

“Um, Maribel?” Sylvia said from the doorway.

I looked over and couldn’t see her behind the giant floral arrangement she was carrying. “Oh my gosh,” I said running over to help her set the huge white vase on the side table.

The poor vase didn’t look its true size beneath the large array of lilies and orchids. I drew a blank for a moment, and then realized that Sylvia and Dylan must have gotten them for Clarissa’s birthday. I pursed my lips in annoyance. Why hadn’t they talked to me about it? Lilies and orchids were my favorite. Clarissa liked daisies and roses. Oh well, she’d still be happy.

“Why didn’t you have this sent to Clarissa’s house? How is she supposed to get this home?” I laughed.

“This isn’t from me and Dylan, and it isn’t for Clarissa… you think I‘d forget that she likes daisies?” Sylvia said, winking at Clarissa who beamed at my aunt’s remembrance of her favorite flower.

“So who are they for?”

“Oh, Mari, you are so ridiculous sometimes… They're for you,” she added. I shifted my eyes to the gorgeous array of flowers and then back to her. “There’s a card, but I’m sure you already know who they're from.”

Jaron? He wouldn’t send me flowers. It was the last thing I was expecting after he wouldn’t even tell me what was wrong. He'd just walked away, leaving me worried and wondering. He seemed to be good at doing that.

After a moment of searching, I found a card on a long plastic stem hidden in the blossoms. I tugged it opened and read it.

Maribel,

Don’t let the showers get you down, after all this is what they bring.