Mayne Attraction: In The Spotlight (14 page)

Oh no. Not the forehead!

I couldn’t deal with that. Now the wave
broke over me and I couldn’t stop the sobs, even as I apologized,
“I’m s-sorry…I’m s-s-s-sorry.”

I retreated from view and into his chest. He
held me tight and patted my back and my head.

“It’s okay. Everything’s fine.
Just…breathe,” he instructed.

And I did—that hitched up spastic breathing
a little kid does after (and during) big cry.

“Hey…hey. It’s all right.”

He spoke calmly, still holding me tight with
one hand and rubbing ovals into my back with the other.

It took several minutes of relaxation
breathing and a visit to my mental happy place before I could talk
again. From the quasi-privacy of his tear soaked chest I finally
said, “Sorry about this. I’m so ridiculous.”

I gave a soft laugh, trying to make light of
myself.

He leaned back so he could look at me.

“I’m the one who should be apologizing. I
shouldn’t have forced you into this, and I definitely shouldn’t
tease you anymore.”

He said that last part with a grin, trying
to lift my mood. It worked. I laughed and sucked in another ragged
breath.

“That will teach you to take advantage of
someone so weak,” I said, weakly.

He laughed and shot back, “You’ve got some
serious self esteem issues, little girl.” Then he added, “And…I
don’t think you’re weak,” though not quite sincerely enough to be
believable.

“Yeah, just mental,” I clarified for
him.

I pulled away and stood up. Reaching down to
grab his hand I pulled him up as well.

“Do you think we’ll make it up the hill
before nightfall?” I asked jokingly, trying to ease the seriousness
from his expression and redirect his thoughts away from my
emotional debacle.

He picked up on that and playfully
responded, “Maybe. Now where’s the lift?”

A lift would have been nice because we were
very far away from where we started, and very downhill. We turned
in the direction we had come and began tracing our way back up the
hillside, following the sled tracks as a guide.

It was quiet as we trudged through the snow.
He didn’t question me any further, being careful not to re-ignite
the waterworks, I guessed. I could sense though, that he was
burning with curiosity.

Well too bad.

Some fifteen minutes later, after crossing
over a frozen Beargrass Creek, we broke through the edge of the
woods at the bottom of Cherokee Hill. Sam and Splash were there to
greet us. Their expressions were a mixture of relief and
irritation. The irritation melted away instantly when Sam got close
enough to see my face.

“What happened? Did you get hurt?”

Oh great. Now I had to confess to her
too?

Trevor spoke up and said, “She had a bit of
an allergy attack, but she’s fine, aren’t you, Ellery?”

His face was turned away from them as he
spoke the last part to me, winking again. Good thing I wasn’t
moving this time—it helped me avoid wiping out again.

I laughed at myself, looking down and
away.

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

He took the rope from Sam’s hand and hauled
both sleds the rest of the way up the hill. Splash kept pace with
him, no doubt jockeying for the next trip down hill with him.

Sam studied me for an uncomfortable moment,
not satisfied with Trevor’s short story version of events.

“Are you all right? Tell me what
happened.”

She was sincerely concerned for me.

Okay, Mom.

But it felt good to have someone other than
my mom caring about me. I repeated what I had said to Trevor. She
seemed to accept this and didn’t ask the obvious follow-up
questions, knowing me well enough to be patient for the rest. As
always, she was cool and collected in her manner, confident that in
time she would have her answers. Sam was more successful at
interrogating me than anyone I knew. So in essence, that made her
better at it than my mom.

When we got to the top I made my way to the
car and settled myself into the front seat so that I could watch
their progress. It was cold in the car, too, but at least it was
out of the wind. Everybody got a turn with Trevor, though nobody, I
noticed, not even Sam, got to take that extended Fairyland ride
that I had been favored with.

Trevor and Sam eventually found their way
back to the car. Neither one would let me past to retreat to the
backseat. Instead, they both huddled up on either side of me, ice
cream sandwich style. When I finally got my arms free, I broke into
the second thermos of hot chocolate for them. It was still
wonderfully warm and I was pleased and thankful for my own
forethought. So was everyone else. Apparently, the bottle of Godiva
had been completely emptied while Trevor and I were away. I laughed
to myself, enjoying my private joke.

To my extreme surprise, no one else ever
came to sled down the hill while we were there. And the businessman
never left, either, which I thought was weird.

Wouldn’t a latte and booth at Panera be a
better option?

But then, with dawning comprehension, I
realized, he wasn’t a businessman at all. Oh, he was working all
right…he was on duty, of course.

Because of the extreme cold, we were done by
lunchtime. As we pulled away, the girls were sounding off
restaurant options. I wondered if Trevor’s lost wager included
purchasing my lunch no matter the location, or if it was restricted
to school property. I hoped it was location non-specific. That
would help offset the complications inherent to forgetting to bring
money along.

Since it had just crossed my mind, I
suggested Panera. There had been as many suggestions as there were
girls in the car, but no specific resolution or consensus. Trevor
was busy driving and added little to the conversation, but I was
secretly pleased when the car pulled to a stop and we all got out
for lunch. I was going to get a cup of soup…and that latte, after
all! And if the cosmos happened to be perfectly aligned, perhaps I
might also get a glimpse of the face of my favorite guardian
angel—something I now actively sought out since my stint as a
pretend Goth. The thought of that sort of treat trumped any promise
of comfort food and warmed me up just like it was July.

Chapter 13
–
Classified

It was a Friday night and I was really
looking forward to the evening. I would be spending the night at
the home of Serena and Sean Evans. Serena was Sam’s much older
sister, with whom she now lived. Sam had a super-sweet set-up in
the finished basement of the Evans’ luxury condominium. Everything
was cream and tan, elegant but understated. It was a walkout to the
lake in the middle of the development with huge windows that let in
lots of light, and a really nice view of the water. It didn’t look
like the lair of an underworld Goth creature at all. I liked it,
especially with the fireplace going, all warm and inviting.

We were going to watch the three Bourne
Identity movies in sequence. I had seen parts of the first
installment on cable, a long time ago, but now we would see all
three, including the two movies I’d never seen, in a marathon.

I never told Samantha this, but one of the
reasons I was interested in watching the show was because the actor
who played the main character looked very much like someone I used
to know. Although in truth, the real life person I knew was more
handsome than the hero of the story, at least in my opinion. I had
seen this actor in a couple of other things, but in this show his
unfailingly calm demeanor during disasters and the ticked off way
he looked most of the time was eerily familiar to me. It was like
watching someone I know get trashed and do some trashing in return.
I knew it was silly, but it made feel slightly anxious, and yet
still drawn to watching it. And then one of the bad guys, played by
another actor that I liked, had also been in another series that I
loved, The Lord of the Rings. So it was enjoyable watching him as
well, though weird to see him being bad as a Russian hit man
instead of being heroic as a leader of the Rohirrim.

What turned out to be not so enjoyable was
the realization that I was being far too expressive in my reactions
to the stressful scenes that kept rolling past. To my chagrin I
noticed that Trevor was watching me more than he was watching the
TV and that was terribly embarrassing. When we took a bathroom and
snack break between the first and second movies I planned to set up
a new position on the floor directly in front of Sam, with my back
pressing against the couch. That way they could have the space on
top of the couch to themselves and then I wouldn’t be subjected to
being able to see Trevor laughing at me. Not that it would stop,
just that I wouldn’t have to pretend not to notice.

Trevor’s presence in my life was a
double-edged sword. I was flattered and pleased to be the unlikely
recipient of his attention—even if most of the time it was
uncomfortable for me. But he made my dear friend happy—happier than
I’d ever seen her—so he was a hero in my estimation, no matter how
he made me feel personally. And with the exception of his
observation antics this evening, it seemed like he had backed down
on the teasing somewhat, especially since our sledding episode
where he thought his teasing had made me psychotic. Every once in a
while being crazy did have its advantages. I’d rather be happy than
crazy, though. Just like I’d rather be clean than hungry, I
guess.

During our break Sam got a call from her
mom, who was re-married and living in Hawaii on a resort with her
new husband, the resort owner, with whom Sam did not get along.
Conversations with her mom sometimes became unpleasant to overhear,
so I went upstairs to investigate a more appealing prospect: the
promising smell of chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven. Since
they weren’t quite ready, I took the opportunity to visit with
Sam’s perpetually good-humored older sister, Serena, and her
daughter, Kailee, an adorable toddler who looked like a mini-me of
her mother. I commented on that while I was sitting on the floor
with Kailee, who was demonstrating for me the features and benefits
of her family heirloom ‘Tickle Me Elmo’ doll.

Serena was sitting on the floor in front of
a coffee table. She had an elaborate setup of beads and jewelry
making paraphernalia spread across the top. It seemed like a bold
move or an invitation for disaster with Kailee so close, but
apparently the two had worked that out between themselves. As she
maneuvered a bead onto a metal string she replied, “You know who
she really looks like is her Aunt Sammie. Don’t you Kay-Kay?”

I couldn’t be sure of that because Kailee
wasn’t dressed in the Goth style at the moment. Serena rose and
went over to the bookshelf to retrieve something. She made a show
of sneaking over to look down the stairs before coming back to
where we were on the floor. She opened up what I could see now was
a photo album and turned to a page near the front. It appeared to
be a portrait of Kailee—from the early 90’s, according to the gold
inscription in the corner of the photo.

Wow.

The resemblance to Sam at the same age was
uncanny.

Was Kailee a clone?

Serena got the reaction she was looking for
from me and smiled hugely with satisfaction.

“See? Sam Junior, huh?”

“Wow. That’s amazing. Is that weird for you?
I mean, you remember when Sam was a baby, right?” I asked.

“Yes and yes. But it’s nice, too. It feels
like home, in a way. I thought my parents had Sam just for me…she
was my baby…still is.”

She turned pensive as she looked at the
pictures with me.

“I was born at the beginning of their
relationship, and she was born at the end,” she said with a
sigh.

I continued turning the pages slowly, eager
to soak up historical images of my friend. She looked so
different…so natural. The Suns were beautiful people, and well off,
apparently. There were pictures of the girls playing in the
driveway with a Porsche and palm trees in the background and what
looked like a mansion for a house in the background of other shots.
There were pictures of them with either one or the other parent
atop the Eiffel Tower (the real one in Paris, not the replica at
King’s Island) and with Cinderella at Disneyland, and Shamu at
SeaWorld.

Their mom looked just like them, except her
skin was darker. Their dad was dark haired, but of a much fairer
complexion. The four of them were never in any pictures together,
though, and that gave everything a sad undertone.

As I turned the pages and took in the
fascinating collection of images documenting my friend’s past, I
came across a section that I had to scrutinize very carefully,
because at first I thought it might be some kind of photo-shop
joke.

It looked like Sam might have been eleven or
twelve, and she was smiling beautifully holding three bouquets
while surrounded by three identical boys. Significantly, this was
not a portrait from a studio, or a print-off from the computer—it
was the carefully clipped cover of a celebrity magazine!

‘Me Three’ was a program that I had watched
faithfully when I was eleven or twelve. It came on at seven o’clock
on weeknights. It was my favorite show on my favorite network,
‘Nickelodeon’.

Each week over the next few years millions
of other tweens and I had tuned in to watch the crazy hijinx of
identical triplets pretending to be identical twins, so that
someone could always have the day off. All three boys had a crush
on the same beautiful girl next door…Kristy Elliott, played by
Sarah Sun, or Sarah Samantha Sun, according to her birth
announcement in the front of the album.

That explained a lot.

Serena smiled big at the shock and awe
playing across my face. That was definitely the response she was
hoping for. Then she got down to explanations.