Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) (4 page)

So what if he was doing that, but with me instead of Chelsea?

CHAPTER 5

Drew would be arriving in the library soon, and I debated bringing up the double date planned for tomorrow night. I leaned back in the beanbag and took a deep breath, telling myself not to worry. There was no need to make this complicated. When Jeremy got out of soccer practice, I would just let him know about the plans. We’d gone on double dates with Chelsea and whatever guy she was seeing at the time many times before. The big difference this time was that she would be there with Drew, who I couldn’t seem to get out of my mind.

Glancing out the large window, I attempted to refocus by taking in the colors of fall. The late September leaves looked like a pointillist painting with the various colors of reds, oranges, and yellows, and I took out my sketchbook and colored pencils and began drawing the scene outside, concentrating on the trees as I tried to represent them to the best of my ability.

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Drew’s now familiar voice caught me by surprise. I must have been so involved in drawing that I didn’t hear him enter.

Placing my pencil down in the crease of the book, I turned to look at him as he clicked the door shut. The temperature had dropped enough in the past few weeks that his leather jacket no longer looked out of place, and his dark eyes focused on me, the same way they had when we spoke in the hallway the day before.

“I like to sketch things sometimes,” I said, shrugging and looking down at the drawing. “I’m not that good.”

“Would you mind if I look?” he asked, remaining in place as he waited for me to respond.

“Sure,” I said without a second thought. “It’s just for class though. Nothing too elaborate.”

Instead of waiting for me to get up and hand him the book, he moved to sit next to me on the beanbag, leaving only a few inches between us. It was impossible to think straight with him sitting so close, and I tried to stay calm, not wanting him to know the effect his presence had on me. Reminding myself that he’d asked to see my sketches, I pushed the book in his direction.

“It looks good,” he said, comparing it to the scene outside. I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not, but there seemed to be a trace of disappointment in his tone.

Maybe he didn’t like scenery drawings.

“I have some other stuff, too,” I said, flipping through the pages to show him the sketch from the first day of school—the one of the girl in the flowing dress. 

He was quiet as he pulled the book towards him. My heart thumped in my chest as I watched him study it, wondering if he was silent because he loved it, or if he didn’t like it and was trying to figure out what to say so it sounded like he did.

He grazed the paper with his thumb, taking in every line with his touch. “This is beautiful,” he finally said, lifting his eyes to meet mine.

My cheeks flushed, and I looked back down at the drawing. “Thanks,” I said softly, taking the sketchbook back and placing it on my lap. “Jeremy hated it. I’m glad to know it isn’t completely awful.”

“Jeremy’s wrong,” he said, his eyes becoming darker than their normal shade of chocolate. “He must be completely blind.”

I shrugged. “He just likes my sketches of scenery better. And when I draw him playing soccer.”

He glanced at the sketch again. “This is more interesting than Jeremy playing soccer.”

“I have a few more like it,” I said, surprised at my willingness to share the drawings.

“Can I see?” he asked, waiting for my response instead of grabbing it like Jeremy had on the first day of school.  

He made an effort to not brush against my hand again when I handed it back over, and I lowered my eyes, trying not to show my disappointment.

My palms became clammy as he examined each drawing, surprised by how he appeared to appreciate each one of them. I viewed each one along with him—the first being the girl who resembled myself in what I’d discovered was a white morning dress from the early nineteenth century. She ate breakfast on a wooden porch overlooking a grassy yard that disappeared into a forest. In the next she laid on a felt-cushioned sofa, reading a novel by a lit fireplace while the setting sun cast shadows on her face through the rectangular window in the back of the room. Many sketches came after this, consisting of letter writing, playing cards, and riding horses. Drew leafed through them wordlessly, studying each page with the same intensity as the last. I was afraid to breathe, scared that the slightest sound would break the spell of silence. 

He reached the end and lifted his gaze from the book for the first time in several minutes. “Where did you get the ideas for these?” he asked.

“We’re reading
Pride and Prejudice
in my English class,” I explained. “I guess it inspired me.”

He nodded in agreement. “It’s a good book.”

“Something about it seems so familiar,” I said, trying to figure out how to explain. “I have such clear images of what everything must have looked like back then, and I can draw them so easily. It’s like the scenes are right in front of me instead of only in my mind.”

His gaze never wavered from mine as I spoke. The room was silent except for the soft cry of the wind outside, and I could feel electricity crackling in the air.

He looked at me in question, like he was seeing something he hadn’t before and was trying to figure out what it meant. “That’s the sign of a great artist,” he said after a few long seconds.

“Thanks,” I said, looking down at the book between us. “You can have one if you want.” I moved my hand across the paper, grazing his in the process. The small bit of contact sent a rush of heat up my arm. I paused, pulling my hand back towards myself a moment later.

“I probably shouldn’t take your homework,” he said pulling his hand to his side as well. “Anyway, we should start going over French since the test is coming up in three weeks. From what I saw in class today, we’ve got a lot to cover.”

“Right,” I said, trying to ignore the heat lingering on my hand from where it had touched his seconds before. “Although like I warned you earlier, I’m pretty hopeless.”

He got up from the beanbag that we shared and moved to the one next to me, pulling his French textbook out of his bag. “And like I said earlier, I doubt that’s true.”

I didn’t refute his comment, but the chance of my doing decently on the upcoming test was as likely as winning the lottery. However, since he seemed determined to help, I decided to at least put forth the effort.

* * *

Focusing proved impossible, and my French didn’t seem to improve in the slightest, despite Drew’s words of encouragement. While I tried concentrating, all I could think about was the upcoming double date, and whether or not I should mention it.

“So,” I said, looking up from my book. “Chelsea told me you were coming to the movies with us tomorrow night?” The statement came out as a question, and I cringed at what an airhead I must have sounded like.

“That’s the plan,” he said. “Unless you don’t want me to come?”

“No,” I stammered. “I do. I mean, Chelsea does.”

“I would hope so.” He laughed. “Since she asked me.”

I couldn’t think of a response, and not wanting Jeremy to walk in during the study session, I looked at my watch to see how much longer there was until soccer practice got out. We had fifteen minutes, but I wanted to play it safe. Jeremy wouldn’t react well if he walked in the library and discovered Drew and I sitting close together on beanbags in the back room speaking in French to each other.

“Jeremy will be here soon,” I said, disappointed that the study session had to end.

“I would stay until he got here, but we wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea.” Drew winked, leaning back in the beanbag.

I stared at him, shocked at the implication. “He wouldn’t care,” I lied.

“Sure.” He smirked, not sounding convinced.

“Are you jealous?” I asked, amused by his reaction.

“Of Jeremy?” Drew laughed. “Never.”

His response surprised me, and I had no idea how to reply. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said, closing my French book and packing it into my bag. 

“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” he said, grabbing his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I said bye and watched him walk out of the room, finally able to think clearly once he was gone.
Drew isn’t interested in me
, I reminded myself.
He’s interested in Chelsea
.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was wrong. It would have made sense for him to say something to get me to talk about Chelsea if he was interested in her, but he didn’t mention her at all.

Looked like I would just have to wait and see how he acted with her on the double date tomorrow night.

CHAPTER 6

“Should I wear blue or pink?” Chelsea’s voice sounded distant over the phone, and I assumed she put it on speaker so she could walk over to her closet to figure out what to wear to the movies.

I rolled over on my bed and looked at the ceiling, putting the light blue princess phone I’d had since I was six back up to my ear. “Whichever you’re in the mood for,” I replied, stifling a yawn. “But pink always looks good on you.”

I winced after my suggestion. Blue was Chelsea’s best color.

“I think I’ll go with black,” she decided, even though it wasn’t one of the original options. “Drew seems like the type to like black. He’s always wearing it.”

Wrong
, I thought.
He likes when girls wear white
. I tilted my head a moment later, wondering why I’d thought that. It was just an assumption—he’d never mentioned it to me.

So why did it feel like the truth?

Chelsea must have finished changing, because the line became clearer, meaning it was off speakerphone. “I’m so nervous,” she said, lowering her voice even though no one else could overhear. “Drew’s so different from other guys I’ve dated. I might actually like him. More than I’ve ever liked anyone.”

“Don’t be nervous,” I reassured her, despite the guilt that washed over me at her comment. Even though nothing happened between Drew and me in the library during the tutoring session yesterday, I couldn’t help but feel like I was lying to Chelsea by not mentioning it. “He seems like he’s really into you.”

“Yeah,” she said. “Otherwise he wouldn’t have agreed to come to the movies.”

“Right,” I said, sitting up and leaning against the wall. “But I have to finish getting ready. I’ll see you soon.”

She said bye, and I placed the phone back in its blue cradle, standing up and looking at myself in the mirror. I debated changing out of my favorite faded jeans, since Chelsea told me she was wearing a short skirt tonight, but I decided to stick with them. They complimented the white spaghetti strap top that showed off the remainder of my summer tan, and the shimmery eyeliner I’d applied earlier enhanced what Jeremy called my “natural good looks.” Happy with my outfit, I ran my straightener through my hair again—the brisk September air stopped my hair from frizzing, and it now stayed in place when straight.

The honking of a horn blared from outside, and I walked into the hall to look out the front window, seeing Jeremy’s Jeep parked next to my house. The rap music blasting from his car was so loud that I could hear it from inside, and I hoped he would turn it down—or off—when I got in the car. I ran back into my room to pick up my lightweight white jacket from its resting spot on the back of my vanity chair and did one last mirror check before grabbing my bag and heading out of the house.

“What took you so long?” Jeremy asked when I opened the door, turning the volume down as I hopped inside the car.

“I was finishing getting ready,” I told him, trying not to get annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t bothered to say hi.

He was silent for a moment. “You look beautiful,” he finally said, leaning his elbow on the steering wheel.

“Thanks.” I brought my hair over my shoulder and looked up at him, surprised by the compliment.

“I miss hanging out just us,” he whispered, leaning forward so his breath was hot in my ear. “How about we ditch the movie and stay in tonight?”

“I promised Chelsea we would go,” I insisted, the lack of electricity between us obvious compared to how I felt around Drew. “It won’t be that bad. We used to go on double dates with her all the time.”

“Fine,” he glowered, like a child whose mom told him he couldn’t have any dessert after dinner. He pulled away, putting the car into drive and slamming his foot on the pedal. The engine revved into high gear, and the tires of the Jeep squealed as they fought with the pavement for more speed. A car heading in our direction flashed its brights, signaling him to slow down, but Jeremy ignored it and went even faster.

“Jere,” I said, gripping the armrest for support. “Slow down. You’ll get us killed.”

He accelerated the car more. “Relax, Liz. It’s time you got over your little fear of speed.”

I held the armrest tighter and glanced at the speedometer, watching the needle go past seventy. “Seriously, Jeremy. Stop,” I said, breathing slowly to keep my voice steady. My heart started pounding in my chest, the sound filling my head and blurring my vision. I closed my eyes and tried to block the sights of the houses flying by so quickly that they blended together in a stream of grey. The wind whistling through the windows made it impossible to forget how fast we were moving, sending my stomach swirling with nausea.

“Geez, Liz.” Jeremy snickered, slowing down so he was now going the speed limit. “You need to lighten up. What’s wrong with driving fast?”

I leaned back on the headrest, not in the mood to have the conversation again. “I just don’t want to get in an accident,” I repeated the same thing I’d always told him.

He took his focus off the road for a moment to look at me. The deep blue of his eyes were the type that would render most girls speechless—as they used to do to me—but lately I’d noticed that I was completely unaffected. “You don’t trust my driving?” he asked, offended. “Come on, you know I wouldn’t risk wrecking the Jeep.”

“I know. Just not when I’m in the car, okay?”

“Fine,” he said, pulling up to the movie theater. I breathed a sigh of relief that we had arrived alive.

He draped his arm around my shoulders as we walked through the parking lot, but his feet fell into a different rhythm than mine, making it difficult to walk. “You owe me for this one,” he joked in my ear. “You should give some of the girlfriends of the guys on the team more of a chance. Like Shannon and her friends. They’re not as bad as they seem.”

“Okay,” I agreed. “I’ll try, but I don’t see Shannon and I becoming close anytime soon. I don’t know if you listen to her at lunch, but she always talks about her supposed ‘friends’ when they’re not there.”

“She’s a little judgmental,” he said, “but it’s not in a mean way. Just because you take everything so personally doesn’t mean everyone else does.”

“So Shannon says nasty things about people and
I’m
the one with a problem?” I asked, not bothering to hide my irritation.

He shrugged it off. “I never said you had a problem.”

“You said I take everything too personally.”

He laughed. “Yeah, and you’re doing it now.”

I tried to calm down, not wanting to ruin the night before it even started. “Let’s just drop this, okay?”

“There’s nothing to drop,” he said. “But whatever you say.”

He opened the door to the movie theater and I walked through, spotting Chelsea and Drew standing near the concession stand. Chelsea laughed at something Drew said, and she leaned into him, taking a sip of what I assumed was a diet soda. To any outsider they would have looked like a couple that had been together for a while, and they were so involved in their conversation that they didn’t notice us in line as Jeremy bought our tickets. I made sure not to meet Drew’s eyes when we reached them.

“Hey guys,” Chelsea greeted us. “Thanks for agreeing to see the horror movie. It looks really good—and totally scary.”

Drew looked at Chelsea. “I was surprised you wanted to see it,” he said with a smirk. “You didn’t strike me as a horror movie type of girl.”

“Liz just loves horror movies,” Jeremy joked, giving my shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll never forget when you called me at midnight after that one we saw in middle school because you were convinced there were invisible ghosts in your room.”

“I just felt bad for the ghosts in the movie,” I said, embarrassed that he’d brought it up. “Their lives ended so badly, but they were trapped in between worlds and couldn’t fix what happened when they were alive.”

Jeremy laughed. “Sounds like they needed to get a life and move on.”

“Maybe.” I fidgeted with the strap of my bag. “But it would have been nice if they had the opportunity to change things. Or if they had a second chance.”

“Who’s to say that the second time wouldn’t end up just like the first?” Drew said, surprising me by jumping into the conversation. His voice was sharp, and his eyes focused on me. “Maybe it would be best if they moved on so they wouldn’t have to experience that pain all over again.”

“But they could never find out unless they tried,” I pointed out. “Otherwise, what’s the point of having a second chance?”

“You guys totally lost me,” Chelsea said, looking back and forth between Drew and me. “Let’s go in, or we’ll be stuck with awful seats.”

She started walking towards the entrance to the horror movie and slipped her hand inside of Drew’s, pulling him closer towards her. The top of her head reached the height of his shoulders, and I grimaced at how good they looked together, especially when he whispered something in her ear and she laughed in response. Combined with the stately way they both walked, her deep red hair against his dark brown resembled how I imagined Mr. Darcy looked when he was with Caroline in the beginning of
Pride and
Prejudice
. Maybe Drew felt the same way towards Chelsea that Mr. Darcy felt towards Caroline—completely disinterested. However, I doubted that was the case.

“Scared for the movie?” Jeremy asked as we walked up the steps inside. The previews had just started, but the theater was mostly empty. So much for being stuck with awful seats.

“Not really.” I looked at him in question. “Why?”

“You seem tense. But don’t worry; I’ll protect you from your imaginary ghosts.”

“I don’t mind the ghosts anymore,” I said, shifting away from him as we walked. “Now it’s the jump scenes that get me.” 

He swung his arm around me and pulled me closer. “Then feel free to jump on me.”

He meant it to be protective, but it felt like he was invading my space. I tried to not let my irritation show.

Chelsea approached a row she liked in the middle and walked to the seat in the center. Drew sat down next to her, leaning back and placing his feet on top of the unoccupied seat in front of him.

Jeremy motioned for me to enter the row and take the seat next to Drew. “After you,” he said, holding out his hand so I could pass. “I’m going back out to get popcorn. Do you want anything?”

I shook my head no and sat next to Drew as casually as possible, making sure that my eyes looked in every direction except where he sat on my left. I hoped I didn’t look awkward, and I tried to ignore the warm tingling in my left arm from being so close to him.

Jeremy returned when the previews ended with a large tub of popcorn. He offered some to me, but I wasn’t hungry. The movie started, and while it was interesting, trying to ignore Drew sitting next to me proved harder than expected. My body remained alert for every small movement he made, warming when he was closer and cooling when he moved away. Bringing my hair over my shoulder, I attempted to create a barrier between us like that first day in class, since it made a good shield for stopping my eyes from wandering in his direction.

Once involved in the plot, I concentrated on doing my best to prepare for the jump scenes so I wouldn’t embarrass myself by screaming in the theater. Thumping background music clued viewers into the fact that someone—or something—would jump out of the shadows at any moment. I wrapped my arms around myself and tried not to anticipate the scene too much, since it would only lead to a more intense reaction when whatever lurked in the shadows finally popped out.

Then an ear-piercing scream rattled from the sound system, accompanied with the flash of some sort of pale, deformed human-monster creature. My hands flew away from each other and into the air, grasping for something solid to hold onto. The first thing my hand went for was Drew’s, which lay on top of the armrest like he barely registered the jump scene at all.

I was about to pull my hand back towards me when he rotated his around mine, connecting our palms and tracing the side of my index finger with his thumb. His hand wrapped around mine so perfectly; it was like he’d held it many times before, triggering a familiarity I couldn’t place. It was the same feeling as when I first saw him in history class, and all I could focus on was Drew’s hand in mine, surprised when he made no effort to move it away.

I glanced over at him, freezing in place with what I saw. He didn’t look at me at all—his eyes still faced forward, leading anyone else in the theater to believe that he was deeply involved in the plot. He sat as still as a statue, yet his hand remained soft and warm, continuing to brush against mine.

Jeremy crunched on a handful of popcorn, bringing me back into reality. I pulled my hand away from Drew’s, cursing myself for thinking that Chelsea and Jeremy wouldn’t notice, at the same time grateful that neither of them did. I crossed my arms to prevent my hands from falling into Drew’s again and leaned to the right, reminding myself that I was there with Jeremy. Chelsea wanted to spend time with Drew, and that didn’t include him holding my hand in the movie theater, regardless of how short the moment lasted.