Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) (8 page)

“Hopefully that’s the last time I’ll have to,” he said. “Goodnight, Elizabeth.”

I ran towards my house and opened the door, hearing Drew’s car drive away once he made sure I was inside. I knew in my heart that school on Monday would resume the same way it was until that car ride, and I couldn’t help but feel like I was saying good-bye forever.

CHAPTER 12

Drew’s cryptic words in the car made my head spin, and when I got inside I almost forgot to call Hannah and tell her that I would be at her house in about an hour, since I needed to dry off and take a shower first.

“Lizzie?” my mom called my name from her downstairs office as I entered the house. Her hair was wet as well. She was able to take the highway back from town, so she must have gotten back a few minutes before me.

“Hey,” I said, trying to act as normal as possible.

She swiveled in her chair, concern passing over her face the moment she saw me. I shuffled my feet, dripping water onto the carpet and realizing how disastrous I must have looked. My jeans were soaked, my hair was a frizzy disaster, and Drew’s jacket hung loose around me, the largeness of it making me look tiny in comparison. 

“What on Earth is going on?” she asked, looking at me like I was an animal in a zoo. As a psychiatrist it was her job to know when people needed to talk, and I supposed it was obvious from looking at me that something was going on.

I summarized what had happened, telling her everything except the fact that Jeremy didn’t bother making sure I had a ride home and that Chelsea didn’t know about Drew driving me back. She seemed to question the story, but I reminded her that Hannah was expecting me soon. She nodded in understanding, asking me to let her know how it went when I got back later that night.

“Just wondering,” I said before heading upstairs. “Who were you out with at dinner?”

“A friend,” she replied, not looking up from her desk when she answered.

Getting the hint that she didn’t want to discuss it, I trudged up the stairs to my room, hugging Drew’s jacket close around me. The sweet scent of pine still clung to the leather. I wondered if I should bring it back to school for him on Monday, but decided not to, since Chelsea and Jeremy would probably ask how I got it in the first place. I put it on the back of my vanity chair and walked into the hallway towards the bathroom, looking in the mirror to see how awful I looked.

My reflection was worse than I’d expected. The freezing rain turned my cheeks bright pink, the rims of my eyes looked puffy like I had been crying, and my normally bouncy hair matted to my head like a dogs fur after it comes in from the rain. The room filled with steam as the water heated up, fogging the mirror and blurring my features together.

The shower warmed me up instantly, and I scrubbed my body clean, as if doing so could erase everything that had happened over the course of the evening. There was one part of the night, however, that I didn’t want to erase. I still couldn’t believe Drew’s answer to my question in the car. It was like I’d caught him unaware, and his words replayed in my head like a broken record.

Easy. I met you
.

Those four words confirmed that I wasn’t going crazy—the bond I felt with him was mutual. Our connection was like a hidden force pulling us towards one another, and resisting it took a strength that I didn’t know I could keep up for much longer.

Everything would be so much easier if it weren’t for Jeremy and Chelsea. I shivered after the thought, angry at myself for thinking it in the first place. Jeremy wasn’t a bad person, despite the fact that he’d changed in the past few months. He still had a good heart; he was just confused about how to balance spending his time between his teammates and me. Then there was Chelsea. She would be devastated if Drew broke up with her. But it hurt me every time I saw them together, like someone ripped out my heart and left an empty cave in my chest, and I didn’t know how much longer I would be able to handle it.

Then came the stream of tears. It was unexpected, like lava bursting out of a volcano and spilling everywhere, not stopping until it had destroyed everything in its path. I rested my shoulder on the tiled wall and allowed them to flow, not bothering to fight them anymore.

The image of Drew’s dark eyes popped into my head; they were so soft and understanding, yet sad at the same time. Perhaps if I tried harder I could get him to open up to me again and we could be together like I knew we were supposed to be. The thought made me smile, and I envisioned a perfect world where I was happy with Drew and still friends with Chelsea and Jeremy. But that could never happen.

I knew what I had to do. I would go over Hannah’s and sit with her while she cried about Sheldon, doing the best I could to listen and be a friend to her when she needed support. Then tomorrow night I would apologize to Jeremy at dinner and do my best to move forward. He was annoyed earlier, but I knew him well enough to know that he would be happy if we left the fight in the past and talked about other things instead.

Then there was the issue of what to say if asked how I got home. Letting Chelsea and Jeremy know that Drew had been the one to drive me would cause too much drama. But no one would question me if I told them my mom had picked me up from school, so that’s what I would have to say. Most importantly, I had to convince myself to listen to what Drew said in the car. It probably would be better for everyone if we stayed away from each other. And it’s not like there weren’t other things I could do besides sit around and pine over the fact that nothing could ever happen between me and Drew. I wasn’t going to be pathetic like that. Jeremy wanted me to spend more time with his friends, and Keelie mentioned going shopping for dresses next Saturday. Maybe it would be fun.

I could pretend as much as I wanted, but deep inside I knew that no matter how hard I tried to let my interest in Drew go and proceed with my life as before, the charade couldn’t continue forever.

CHAPTER 13

The plan to keep everything as close to normal as possible worked for the next week. Jeremy and I had our anniversary dinner at Alfonzo’s, and just as I predicted, he was glad to forget about the fight and me not going to Warren’s party after the game. I called Hannah every night to make sure she was doing okay, and the two of us met in the library after school to work on our sketches for class. It helped keep her mind off Sheldon and mine off Drew, who continued ignoring me in school. At least I didn’t have to worry about returning his jacket—he wore an identical one on Monday. Perhaps he had a collection of them in his closet.

Keelie made an extra effort to be nice to me at lunch, and I was looking forward to joining her on Saturday to look for dresses for the Halloween dance. Chelsea agreed to come with us, and Keelie seemed to welcome the idea of spending more time with her. I invited Hannah to come as well, but she decided not to go to the dance—she still wasn’t up to seeing Sheldon with Shayna, which was perfectly understandable.

* * *

“That one’s perfect!” Keelie gushed as Chelsea spun in a circle in the dressing room, the short green dress swirling behind her. 

Chelsea stood sideways and examined her reflection in the mirror. “Are you sure it doesn’t make me look fat?”

“Nothing can make you look fat.” I assured her.

“I don’t know.” She turned around to look at her reflection from the other side. “This just isn’t the one. It needs to have more sparkle.”

“Alright.” Keelie smiled, opening the door to go back into the department store. “So let’s look at some more.”

I reached down to grab my bag, which was heavy from the sketchbook that I’d shoved inside before leaving the house. “Do you guys mind if I meet up with you later?” I asked. “There’s a store in the mall that makes custom masks, and I want to check it out. It’s getting near their closing time, but you two should keep looking for dresses.”

Chelsea placed her hands on her hips. “But you still haven’t found one.”

“I’ll find one another day,” I promised. “But I’ve got a particular idea in mind for my mask, and I want to show it to them to make sure they can get it done in time.”

She hesitated, and finally said, “Okay. If that’s what you want.” 

“It shouldn’t take long,” I said. “I’ve already drawn it out, so I just have to show it to them.”

We agreed that I would call them when heading back to the department store, and I walked into the mall, referring to a nearby map to point me in the right direction. It wasn’t hard to find.

Alistair’s was an eclectic antique store at the end of the mall, specializing in both new and old costumes, paintings, jewelry, and masks. The inside was small and dark, with items packed together as tightly as possible. It even smelled old, like a fur coat after it’s removed from a storage box full of mothballs. Exquisite masks and paintings lined the walls, elaborate costumes hung on racks in the back, and dark wooden tables displayed small, somewhat kitschy items in the front. I walked up to a table and ran my fingers over a golden horse pulling a coach, the small sculpture smooth to the touch.

“Can I help you?” a gruff voice asked from behind an antique desk in the back of the room. There was a computer on top of it, and it looked foreign amongst the other items in the store—like someone had brought it back in time.

“Do you make custom masks?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer. 

“Sure do. Anything particular you had in mind?”

He didn’t appear to be making an effort to stand, so I walked closer to him until I stood in front of the desk. “I sketched something out,” I said, placing the sketchbook on the table and opening it to the bookmarked page. “But I don’t know if it’s possible to make. It’s for the Halloween dance at my school in three weeks.”

He placed a pair of spectacles over his eyes, leaning forward to take a closer look. “Interesting…” he trailed, bringing his face so close to the drawing that it looked like he was trying to smell the paper.

I played with the shoulder strap on my bag, wondering if that meant he could recreate it or not.

Half a minute passed before he looked up. “Did you copy this from a book?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I just thought it up and drew it. No book.”

He looked at it again, like he was searching for something hidden within the sketch. “It’s remarkably accurate…”

“Accurate of what?”

“The style of mask that English ladies wore to masquerades in the Regency times. But surely you knew that already.”

“I didn’t,” I told him. “It just popped into my mind, and I drew it.”

“Hmm.” He looked conflicted, and he studied me for a moment longer, like he was making sure I was telling the truth. “Okay.”

“So you can make it?” I asked, smiling in excitement.

“All I have to do is weave the gold. It’s like magic.” He winked. “It should be ready in two weeks, so you’ll have it a week before the dance.”

“Great.” I beamed, relieved by how easy that was.

“Now, for the rest of your outfit…”

I tilted my head in question. “What?”

“You need a dress to go with your mask. Unless you’ve already purchased one?”

I shook my head no.

“Perfect.” He walked to one of the long racks in the back of the shop and rummaged through the draped clothing falling from the hangers. “Because I’ve got just the right dress for you. It’s somewhere…” he trailed, pushing through the tightly packed clothing. “Ahh. Here it is.”

I gasped upon seeing what he pulled out from the depths of the rack—a modern version of the first dress I’d drawn in my sketchbook, clearly meant to accompany the mask. It was sleeveless, with an empire waist defined by threads of gold, allowing the rest of the material to flow until just above the knee. A few days ago I’d resolved to not try finding something similar to the sketch, because a custom dress was out of my budget and I figured it would be impossible to find one like it. But here it was, like someone copied the one from my drawing and transformed it into a style that was perfect for current day.

“Do you like it?” he asked, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“It’s perfect,” I replied, clasping my hands together and walking closer to further inspect it. It was off-white—not as bright as the one I’d created while drawing, and it came accompanied with a matching hairpiece that was similar to the one in the sketch. I brushed my fingers over the material of the dress, surprised at how light the sheer fabric felt in my hand. It looked like it was the right size as well. “How much is it?”

I yanked my hand away when he told me the price. There was no way my mom would allow me to purchase it, and my heart sunk at the realization that I would be unable to wear it to the dance.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, examining the dress and looking back at me. “I’ll give you a good deal. Fifty percent off.”

“Thanks.” I smiled, taking a step back. “But you really don’t have to…”

“The dress wants to be yours,” he interrupted before I could finish. “I can tell this sort of thing.”

I contemplated the offer. It was tempting. 

“You never did tell me your name.” He posed the question as a statement.

“Right. Sorry.” I stumbled over the words. “It’s Lizzie.”

“Short for Elizabeth?”

I nodded.

He scurried toward the register, laying the dress on the counter before opening a miniature cabinet behind him and removing a small item from the dusty interior. The cabinet looked like it hadn’t been opened in centuries, and the hinge creaked when he closed it. “I’ll even add this in for free,” he tempted, placing the object on top of the dress. “I picked it up in England last year, and it’ll go perfectly with the outfit. It’s a fine piece—you don’t find them like this anymore.” 

Curious, I examined the glittering object on top of the dress. It was a necklace that looked like it would lie perfectly on the collarbones of the wearer. Thin silver strands dropped from the front with three stones lined up with about half an inch between them. The strands were all different lengths, forming a triangle with the longest one dropping straight in the center. The stones were clear and brilliant—they had to be fake diamonds.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, bringing my hand up to my neck in the place where the necklace would fall if I wore it. Even though it was on the table, I could practically feel the cold crystals upon my skin.

He chuckled. “I knew you would like it.”

“I might be done with my shopping for the dance after this.” I laughed.

He bowed like in an old movie, his silver hair shining as it caught in the light. “I’m glad to have been of service,” he said, handing back my credit card and the bags for the outfit. “If you need any more assistance, my name is Alistair.” He pointed to a business card perched on the counter. “Don’t forget to come back in two weeks to pick up the mask.”

“I won’t forget.” I smiled, picking up one of the cards and tossing it into my bag. “Thanks so much for everything.”

* * *

My cell buzzed like crazy when I left the store.

“What’ve you been doing?” Chelsea’s voice called from down the hall. She shut her phone when she saw me and jogged to where I stood, her cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. Keelie trailed close behind, busy texting on her cell phone.

“We’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Chelsea said, tossing her phone in her bag. “Didn’t you get any of my calls?”

“I guess I didn’t have service in the store.” I shrugged. “But I did find a dress for the dance.”

“Let me see!” she squealed, reaching forward to grab the bag from my hand, all irritation about the missed calls forgotten.

I moved it away before she could touch it. “Hold on.” I laughed. “I’ll show it to you later. It’s packed all nicely, and I don’t want to mess it up in the middle of the mall.”

“Fine.” Chelsea pouted.

“Shannon’s having a party at her house tonight,” Keelie piped in, sticking her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “Why don’t the two of you come? Bring Jeremy and Drew.”

“I’ll ask Drew,” Chelsea replied. “But don’t count on it. He’s not a big partier.”

Keelie looked over at me. “You in?”

“I need to study for a French test.” I grimaced, even though I was glad to have the excuse. The double date to the movies had been awkward enough—I didn’t need to go through that again. At least not anytime soon. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re studying on a Saturday night,” Chelsea said in annoyance.

“If I don’t do well on this test, I won’t pass AP,” I explained.

She shrugged. “Then move down to the regular class.”

“I thought about it in the beginning of the year,” I said. “But now it’s too late, so I have to do well.”

“Fine, be lame,” she muttered like a spoiled kindergartener.

“You’re still coming to the Halloween dance though,” Keelie joked. “No staying home to study?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”