LEMNISCATE (3 page)
Authors: Jennifer Murgia
“Just meet me at the truck, man,” Derek gave Garreth another pounding on his back, and nodded to me, finally acknowledging my presence before bounding away. He stopped short a few lockers down to talk to a couple of freshman cheerleaders who were obviously drinking in his chokingly manly aroma and attention.
“I’m sorry.” Garreth was so sincere it looked painful. “If you don’t want me to go, I’ll just tell the guys…”
“No, go ahead,” I interrupted him. How could I be so selfish? Garreth had chosen to stay behind on earth to be with me, so we’d have the chance to be together longer than the eight days he was originally allowed. It was more than I could have ever dreamed of and here I was, keeping him to myself. Hogging him. If he wanted to look human, he should act human. He should be given more than just me; he should be given a chance to live like the eighteen-year-old boy everyone believed he was.
He looked a little lost to me. Like I had just given him permission to go hang with the wolves. I glanced over at Derek, who was tickling the underside of the chin of an overly bubbly blonde in a very short skirt. I shuddered at the display of affection.
Garreth was so not like the other guys here at Carver, but for his own sake, he had to try.
“It’s okay, really. I need to get a head start on the next calc chapter. If the next test is anything like today’s, I’m screwed.”
“Yeah?” He was apprehensive but I could sense a little relief underneath it all. “I’ll meet you here at dismissal.”
Unlike last year, we only shared two classes together. I wasn’t used to not seeing him during the day. I shut my locker and felt the quick kiss on my cheek. The warm feeling between us sadly disappeared, as I watched him walk away, turning back once. I smiled encouragingly and couldn’t help wonder if Mathur had taught him anything else, like how to blend in with teenage wolves of the twenty-first century.
As he headed for the door at the end of the hall, I reopened my locker and tossed my calculus book and folder in a heap at the bottom. I grabbed my iPod and my keys, slammed the locker shut and headed in the opposite direction.
I started to take notice of all the people walking the halls. The guys. The girls. The Jocks, the Goths, the Bandos . . . all the cliques, all the clubs, the groups . . . the packs. I had gone to school with half these kids since kindergarten and yet I still didn’t
know
them. And although Garreth had been my guardian for eight of my incarnations, I’ve really only known him for about five months . . . but I trusted him with all my heart.
I opened the main door to find the sun shining at last, drying up the puddle-ridden parking lot. I dodged the bigger ones still smattered here and there and made my way to Garreth’s Jeep.
Using the key he had given me, I unlocked the door and slipped inside, sitting for a few moments in silence before putting in my ear buds. I closed my eyes, giving in to the tune, feeling the sun-warmed seat beneath me, smelling the scent that was his. It cleared the horrible after-smell of Derek from my nostrils and I imagined the spicy incense to be Garreth’s breath, trailing down my cheeks, my neck, my arms . . . the lingering presence that constantly accompanied me, the very essence of my guardian. He was here with me.
I tried not to think of where he was, of sharing him, and instead forced myself to be happy for him.
After all, what could possibly happen in forty-five minutes?
I
woke with a start.
“Crap,” I whispered to myself and shook my head to clear it. I looked at the blue numbers on the dashboard and sat straight up in the seat. I had slept through lunch . . . and through gym.
I stared out the window, dazed. The warm sun had only been a tease and the rain had started up again, coming down in buckets against a now blackish sky. I felt trapped in Garreth’s Jeep. There was no way I could make a run for it without getting soaked, and everyone would wonder why I was so wet.
Panic settled in.
I wonder if anyone saw me?
I needed to get inside but something in me wouldn’t allow it. I couldn’t put my finger on it, only there was a strong feeling telling me to stay put. Leaning back against the seat, I tried to recall what I had been dreaming about. It completely escaped me now. But there was something. I grabbed the keys from the ignition and turned around, half crawling over the seat to peer into the back.
Fabulous. No umbrella.
When the tapping came at the window, I nearly jumped out of my skin. My head crashed against the ceiling of the car as I hastily untangled my legs to turn around. I rubbed the top of my head, and cleared the inside of the fogged window with my sleeve to see out. Standing there was Garreth, drenched and expressionless. He jutted his chin, motioning for me to scoot over.
A strange, uncomfortable quiet fell between us as he climbed in and silently stared straight ahead. I couldn’t read him at all. He didn’t even ask why I was sitting in his car instead of at my desk in American history.
“Are you okay?” I couldn’t stand it anymore. Something wasn’t right.
He nodded his head up and down once, “Fine.”
He didn’t say anything else.
“What are you doing here?”
“What are
you
doing here?” he asked, turning to face me.
Shock and misunderstanding ran through me. I sat stunned for a moment, not sure what to say in response.
And then I smelled it.
Garreth’s jacket reeked of Derek’s awful cologne. The Jeep was quickly becoming saturated in the scent. The beautiful incense that had lulled me to sleep in the first place had become overpowered and replaced.
Underneath the cologne was something else. Something I realized was meant to be covered up. Each lingering moment brought it closer to the surface, each breath . . . the unmistakable smell of . . . beer.
“Were you
drinking? At lunch?
” I couldn’t believe it! “Garreth?”
The look he gave me was unbearable. It was neither guilty, nor apologetic. A strange feeling came over me and I sat in silence wondering who the heck this strange boy was.
He began staring out the window and then cleared his throat, “You need to find another ride home.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t take you.”
“Why not?”
“Just go in, Teagan,” he said, impatience building in his voice. “If you don’t, they’ll think you were with us and they’ll give you one of these.”
He held up a crumpled pink slip, then threw it on the floor at my feet. I leaned over slowly and picked it up, regarding him closely as I carefully uncurled the paper. Nervously, I read the statement printed across the center of the slip.
Conduct Referral
Reason for referral:
failure to attend class. Improper behavior off and on campus.
Action: 5-day suspension.
Parent/guardian signature required.
I looked up at Garreth.
“You’re suspended?”
He didn’t answer me.
I reread the line that stated ‘Parent/Guardian signature required’ and shuddered. Garreth was
my
guardian. My angelic guardian. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Who would take responsibility for him?
I hesitated, “Who’s going to sign your slip?”
He reached over and took the paper from my hands, crumpling it back up. “That’s my problem.”
I opened my mouth, then let it snap shut.
Garreth started up the Jeep. The engine roiled, intrusive to our pained conversation. He sat looking at me impatiently, giving me my cue to leave. I studied his face, trying to find a solution to this mind-boggling predicament. Oddly, his eyes no longer sparkled. They looked more grey than blue, resembling the dampness outside the window. I reluctantly opened the passenger door and closed it behind me, standing in the rain and watching as he pulled away without so much as a glance in my direction.
When I realized how drenched my clothes were becoming I turned the other way and started across the parking lot. My legs felt heavy when I tried to step over the puddles. As I looked down to maneuver myself around them, a large black feather floated in front of me. The only witness to our argument.
It triggered something in my subconscious, but I shoved it away, braced myself against the damp chill spreading down my arms, and walked inside.
M
y hands were trembling as I dialed.
“Hopewell Public Library; this is Diane speaking,” the gentle voice came through the phone and my heart lurched. Immediate regret for my attitude at breakfast surfaced.
“Mom?” I asked into the receiver. I hated bothering her at work.
“Teagan? Is everything alright?”
Thank God she didn’t still sound mad at me. There was no grudge in her voice and almost instantly my trembling hands steadied. It was my mom. The one I was missing so much these last few weeks. She would make everything better again.
“Teagan?”
“I’m here. Would you mind picking me up from school today? I don’t have a ride home.”
“Why isn’t Garreth taking you?”
I closed my eyes at the sound of his name and swallowed hard.
“He’s um . . . he went home early. Sick.”
“Okay, sure. Let me get one of the volunteers to cover for me. I might be a little late, okay?”
“Okay. I’ll wait in the office.” I let out a huge sigh.
“I’ll be there as close to 2:30 as I can get. Are
you
okay? You sound wiped out.”
“Yeah, just tired. I think it’s the weather.” Which was true. I was sick and tired of the gloomy rain.
I ended the call, wondering what to do with myself. Maybe I could go hang out in the bathroom until study hall or hole up in one of the cubicles in the back of the library until it was time to go to the office. I did have a report coming up for English. Miss Troxell was always easy on me. Perhaps she would vouch for my absence this afternoon. My feet started walking in the direction of the library as if my mind was already made up.
I tried not to think of Garreth, but that was nearly impossible. All my thoughts were centered around him, so to
not
think of him took some serious effort, even if the voice I heard in my head now was tinged with anger. Even if the warm blue of his eyes were cloudy and hostile. I just couldn’t believe he would drink on his lunch break with those idiots. My instincts were right on. They were wolves. More than anyone else, Garreth understood the power of influence. He understood temptation and being swayed in the wrong direction.
At least, I thought he did.
Was he so eager to fit in with those guys? Was he pressured? I was starting to feel guilty. He would have stayed and eaten lunch with me if I hadn’t encouraged him to go with them. I shook my head, wondering how Garreth was handling this sudden turn of events.
My stomach growled and I realized that my own lunch break was sadly overdue.
I settled myself in one of the wooden cubbies in the back of the library, hoping no one would notice me. I unwrapped the now smushed granola bar and took a bite, feeling it fall like lead to the bottom of my stomach. Holding my soda can underneath the folded layers of my sweatshirt, I popped the tab, hoping the sound wasn’t too obvious. It could be worse. I could’ve smuggled a bag of McDonald’s french fries in, attracting anyone within a two-block radius.
All I wanted was to be alone.
I tried to make myself comfortable on the wooden chair and found myself wishing for the comfortable seat I had been exiled from.
I can’t believe I fell asleep in the parking lot.
Despite what happened after I woke up, there was something strange about the dream I had slipped into. The details were cloudy, but there was a balance of comfort and terror all jumbled up in it. And there was something bizarre about that feather in the parking lot.
Thirty-three minutes came and went and all I did was ponder my dream and play with the scrolled mark on my right palm. I was mesmerized, zoning in and out, making it disappear and reappear, timing how long it took. Now my hand ached from clenching it over and over and I still had a dull ache in my stomach.
After the final bell, I waited for my mother in the office, my butt numb from the library chair. I found a softer seat and stared blankly into space, chewing my bottom lip, trying to thwart off the thoughts of Garreth that played over and over in my mind. Two secretaries busied themselves behind the long formica counter, casting curious glances in my direction at regular intervals. I recognized one from last year when Garreth and I basically dismissed ourselves after my disruptive dream in history class. Garreth feared that Hadrian was closing in on us and that’s when the mark on my hand came into existence.
I shut my eyes and leaned my head back against the wall, trying desperately not to think of them. Two Guardians, so alike, yet so different. But attempting to push them both to the back of my mind was futile as I tried to make sense of what just happened. And the funny thing now was that they no longer seemed so different anymore. Just unbalanced. It was adding up to something that subconsciously I didn’t want to face or believe possible—that in the blink of an eye, Garreth could change.
A familiar figure strode into the office pulling me from my thoughts. My mother reached out, touched my forehead in concern and then said, “Ready?”
As we pulled away from the school, she turned up the heat in the car and eyed my damp clothing.
“What’s with the wet?” she asked, returning her gaze to the street.
Without thinking it through I answered, “We had gym outside today.”
“In the rain?” her forehead got all scrunchy in the middle.
“It actually stopped for a while.”
Which it did.
She didn’t answer.
“We started running track today.”
Which we didn’t.
My mom inhaled deeply and dropped the subject. Why was I lying? What was wrong with me? But I couldn’t bring myself to tell her the truth about Garreth. Not yet. Maybe never.
I stared out the window, thinking how today turned out so miserably. This morning was the only nice part. The part when I woke up to find him there in my room. Now all I could recall was the far off look in his eyes in the car.
My day was crap.
And now my whole week would be equally crappy. No Garreth for the rest of the week, and Friday loomed on the horizon. Ugh. Pizza with mom’s boyfriend . . . and Brynn. I could see it now, my mother playing the gracious hostess, the smiling doctor nodding in approval at her overly eager display of hospitality and Brynn . . . who would set foot in my house and butter everyone up. Probably by offering to set up a pizza topping bar or something just as equally witty, while, with each passing torturous minute, planning my demise.
