LEMNISCATE (4 page)

A
fter dinner I listlessly ventured upstairs, leaving my mother behind on the couch, the blue glow of the six o’clock news illuminating the living room. We had eaten with minimal conversation and I cleaned up afterward, my unspoken peace offering for this morning.

She was disappointed that I didn’t want to sit with her, but with my usual excuse of homework, I trudged up the stairs with guilt in each step. Really all I wanted was to be alone and brood. I couldn’t help feeling that we were growing apart with each passing day. If only I had the courage to include her in what was going on in my life, instead of keeping her at arm’s length. But if I told her everything, from start to finish, including what happened over the spring and the summer up until now . . . Yeah right.

Flannel pajamas beckoned from my dresser drawer. It was only 6:20 p.m. but the day had been too miserable for words. I needed comfort. Maybe I would make hot chocolate in a little while, or tea. Tea always made me feel better.

I opened my calculus book and within minutes everything on the pages blurred together. My mind kept wandering back to Garreth. Was he okay or was he as miserable as I was? I slammed the book shut and hung my head in my hands.

The urge to call someone hit me hard. But there was no one to call. Garreth didn’t have a phone. He had never needed one. I pushed the button on my computer monitor. It beeped with life. The bright glow greeted me and my fingers flew over the keys. Before I knew it, an email to Claire had been typed. Just seconds before hitting the “send” button I sat staring at the message, feeling utter loss in my bones. A tear trickled down my cheek. What would happen if I sent it? No one would answer it. Her email account was long since closed. Who else would have her email address?
[email protected].

The “My” stood for the first two letters of her last name. Myers. But I always felt it was more personal than that. MyClaire. She would always be “
my Claire
.” My best friend.

My index finger hovered over the send button. I didn’t need to reread the message. There was nothing written in the “subject” box. The message didn’t pertain to anything in particular, just mindless babble . . . my awful day, how I missed her. I even mentioned how I’d been talking to Ryan a bit more. She would have loved his T-shirt today, a monkey with a banana up his nose. Claire loved questionable humor.

The ebb and flow of the content was more like a diary or a journal entry with no real rhyme or reason to it. I was just blowing off steam and admittedly, I felt better. For ten minutes Claire was alive to me again. I closed my eyes, hit the send button, crawled into bed and silently wished to myself that maybe somewhere, Claire would get it.

My alarm clock woke me up. Under the circumstances, I felt remarkably well. A weight of unimaginable proportion had been lifted off my chest with my spur-of-the-moment email to Claire. I smiled, imagining it had reached her on some celestial broadband. I sat up and stared out the window and felt the empty spaces fill once again.

The rain had ended, but it was cloudy and probably would be all day. Oh, well. At least my feet would be dry today. I looked around as if seeing my room for the first time. Something felt different. I heard my mother waking in the next room. If I took the time, I could calculate exactly how many minutes would pass before she was on the other side of my door.

Then it hit me.

Garreth  hadn’t been  here to wake me.

I wrapped my arms around myself, desperately trying to recreate the feeling I had all night, the feeling of being wrapped and cradled in soft, warm arms. I even remembered words floating to me, hushed in my sleep-filled dream . . . words that had said “
I’m sorry . . . I’m here . . . forgive me . .
.” I woke with the strong feeling that Garreth had come to me in the night. That everything would be all right. He had stayed, here in my room with me. I was sure of it. I looked around, expecting him to appear, but no Garreth. No angel wings to hold me tight, yet the skin on my arms tingled as if they had just been touched. They were chilled as if I had been lying against something warm for hours.

My mother’s dresser drawer scraped shut. Her feet were coming closer up the hall. I looked out into the center of my room. Nothing. I squinted my tear-filled eyes, trying to conjure an image of him, willing him to materialize in front of me just to see him disappear and be satisfied.

My jaw clenched. Panic rose in my chest.

Now. Please.

Nothing filled the space in front of my eyes.

Just the usual knock at my door as Mom’s sleepy steps echoed into the bathroom.

I choked on the lump growing in my throat and numbly sat on my bed. Like in a trance, I slowly walked over to my closet and chose the first thing my hand touched to wear to school. I combed my hair into a ponytail, going through my motions without thinking or feeling anything. Before my mother even got out of the bathroom, I was downstairs making coffee. I grabbed my backpack and keys and shut the kitchen door as she was mid-sentence, calling to see if I was up yet.

My feet found their way to the alley behind our garage. My hand found its way to the lock on the door of my white Cabrio. My butt found its way to the seat on the driver’s side. I started the car and headed for school, impatient to get there for once. I so desperately needed to be distracted. I needed the noise, the hustle and bustle. The gossip. The rumors. The cliques. The people I hated and didn’t understand. I wanted my ears and my head to be filled with their babble so I didn’t have to think of . . . him.

I parked the car and very zombie-like walked past everyone and into the school. I walked straight to the quad where my locker stood.
If Brynn comes down the hall to pester me again, I won’t even look at her. If Ryan meets me here again, I won’t tell him anything. I won’t tell him about skipping yesterday afternoon. I won’t tell him about Garreth getting suspended and what he did to deserve it. I won’t tell him why my car is parked in the parking lot today instead of a gun-metal gray Jeep Wrangler. I will make it through my day just like everyone else. I hope.

My fingers effortlessly spun the combination, the numbers flying past with experience. Right. Left. Past the zero twice. Right and slowly . . . stop on 32. The lock popped and I slid the metal lever to the right. I pulled the door toward me. A large black suede-looking feather floated out at me. The feather from the puddle. It fell to my feet, zig-zagging in slow motion, as the words from my dream came back to me.

“I’m here . . . forgive me.”

My locker tilted sideways and everything was sliding. I heard buzzing in my ears as the voices of the kids around me began to fade away. They were pointing at the feather . . . wondering, laughing . . . they didn’t know what it meant.

But I did.

One voice came to me. The voice from my dream. The voice that belonged to the arms and wings that held me all night, comforting me.

It didn’t belong to Garreth. I was right about him not coming to my room.

An unbidden name came to my lips and I felt my mouth shaping it, making it real, rushing it out of my lungs with the breath I had been holding tightly inside my chest.

I heard the whisper with my own ears.

“
Hadrian.”

A
mid the laughter ringing in my eardrums, I was caught by a strong pair of arms, which appeared out of nowhere before my head hit the locker. I looked up, dazed, into Ryan’s concerned face.

“Are you okay, Tea?” he asked quietly, ignoring the little circle behind us that had stopped to watch the theatrics.

I nodded quickly, eager to regain my composure.

Behind us a shrill, familiar voice rang out above the muffled audience. Day two of misery had officially begun. Her footsteps clicked closer as she forced her way through the crowd and drew in an exaggerated breath of shock.

“Oh, Teagan, are you okay?” she cooed sarcastically.

“Leave her alone, Brynn,” Ryan answered on my behalf. “This isn’t the time or place.”

“Oh, but it is. Can’t you see? You’re such a hero, Ryan, saving Teagan like you did. Why, did you know she’s practically my step-sister?” She nodded her head as if declaring an utterly juicy tidbit to us all. I cringed at the mere idea of what the future held . . . perhaps someday being “related” to her.

“Break it up, everyone. There’s nothing to see.” Mr. Herman had stepped out of his classroom to break up the nosy little group that was growing in the hallway. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against the cool locker to steady myself.

“Like I said, there’s nothing to see,” Mr. Herman repeated for our benefit. “Be on your way, Miss Hanson.”

Being dismissed was something Brynn loathed. She was supposed to be the “queen” of the senior class. As I turned to face her, she gave me a steely glare and uttered one last comment.

“Another girl falling at your feet, huh Ryan?” She did a little wave with her fingertips and added a mocking smile toward Mr. Herman as he turned his attention back to me and Ryan.

Assuming this was another student ploy to get out of class, he eyed us with suspicion. When he saw my pale, sweaty complexion his expression softened.

“Do you need to go to the nurse, Teagan?”

I shook my head, “I think I’m okay. I . . . I didn’t eat any breakfast this morning.”

“Mr. Jameson, why don’t you escort Miss McNeel to the vending machine in the cafeteria and make sure she fills up on something decent. I’ll inform your homerooms that you’re present and accounted for.”

“Thank you, sir,” Ryan spoke for both of us.

With a nod and a concerned smile for me, Mr. Herman turned around and walked back to his own homeroom class, which by the sound of it was getting a little too comfortable without his supervision. His voice boomed, restoring order to the chaos I felt responsible for and he shut the door behind himself.

“Are you dizzy?” Ryan was still holding my elbow, afraid to let me stand on my own.

I shook my head to answer “no” and began searching the floor for the black feather. It was nowhere to be found. Who knows how many feet trampled it? But still, I looked for it, unable to take my eyes off the floor. I was so sure it still had to be here, somewhere.

“What are you looking for? Did you lose something?” We were walking toward the cafeteria for my “breakfast.”

“Yeah, my mind.”

I felt foolish wasting time staring at the floor, knowing we would only be excused from the short ten minutes it took to take attendance. Asking Mr. Herman to give me a hall pass to look for a lost feather from yesterday’s rainstorm was not only pushing it, it was insane.

We entered the empty cafeteria, or “food court” as we sometimes liked to call it. The five vending machines standing side by side on the one wall were all we had to give variety to the masterpieces like creamed corn and Hamburger Helper. The student body liked to consider it a secret addition to the food pyramid.

Ryan deposited a dollar bill and punched the buttons A5 and E9, dispensing a chocolate chip granola bar and a yellow mini package of Lorna Doone cookies into the metal bin below. He reached in and handed them both to me.

“Here,” I began fumbling with the zipper on my purse to pay him back.

“It’s on me,” he smiled.

“Thanks.”

We walked over to one of the white laminated benches and parked ourselves as I gently tore open the package of cookies, offering one to Ryan. He shook his head no.

“So, do you want to tell me what happened back there? What did you mean by you ‘lost your mind’?”

I chewed slowly, not eager to tell him
anything
. In fact, if I remembered correctly, I had just given myself a pep talk about keeping my problems to myself. That was before that stupid feather had to fall out of my locker and ruin everything. I looked at him closely, trying to read him, anticipating how he was going to react.

“You’re going to think this is crazy,” I warned him.

Ryan sighed and cocked his head to the side like I was stating the impossible.

“Don’t you think you and I have seen enough to know nothing’s crazy?” he asked.

I bit my bottom lip, wiped my mouth on the back of my hand and delved into the story I swore to myself I wouldn’t tell. Before I knew it, Ryan had been given a short-but-sweet account of the dream feather coming back to haunt me, the spilling-my-guts email to his ex-now-deceased girlfriend, the too-real dream I had last night, Garreth’s no-show this morning and unfortunately the whole escapade that happened yesterday; including the disgusting cologne worn by Derek Arnold, which I made Ryan swear under oath to never wear. I also spilled the beans about Garreth’s strange behavior, his drinking, his suspension and my hiding out in the library for the rest of the day.

By the time I had finished, we still had three minutes left to high-tail our butts to first period and Ryan was staring at me with his jaw hanging open.

“Gee, is that all?”

I waited for the shock to wear off.

“I mean, crap, Teagan! It all makes sense now. Wait, never mind. I don’t want to go there. I can’t go there right now.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not getting you into this,” which was the absolute truth. I didn’t want Ryan involved. “This is my problem.” But with those words a strange trembling came over me and I felt like I had been punched in the heart. Those were Garreth’s words yesterday when I asked him who was going to sign his suspension slip. It was surprisingly easy to recount every detail for Ryan. How, by talking about it, I had become strangely detached from it. But hearing those words again was like reliving it and I could hear Garreth’s voice echoing in my head.

We began walking quickly back to our first period hallway when something occurred to me.

“Ryan, what did Brynn mean back there, at my locker?”

Ryan seemed to stiffen the moment I asked that seemingly innocent question. He stared straight ahead and I had to be careful to not run into any open lockers, as I kept stealing glances at his unreadable face. I followed him into the stairwell. He still hadn’t answered me. Then, he pulled my arm when we reached the bottom of the steps, yanking me back to where the storage door stood locked. He kept swallowing and looking away, either to avoid my eyes or to make sure no one was eavesdropping.