Ripples (DROPLETS Trilogy Book 2) (5 page)

     “What was his name?” Laura asked as soon as Jonathan finished talking.

     All eyes turned to me and it was as though a wave swept through my mind; I knew how I should answer. I wasn’t the same girl that had worked here last fall, I’d changed and they would have to deal with that. There was a burning anger, coupled by tragedy, inside of me that I wanted to quench. I wanted to lash out at them and make them understand what I’d been through, but I couldn’t do that.

     “You know what?” I said, surprised by how steady my voice was, even though I was raging inside. “I would prefer it if we changed the subject.” It went quiet and everyone either looked at me or down at their hands.

     “Why?” Laura asked, she had never been one to pick up on social cues, or she didn’t care.

     “Let’s just say there’s a reason why I left here so suddenly.” I smiled solemnly, and placed my hands on the table. It took some effort to make my hands unclench. “I’m tired, still not used to the time difference, so I’ll see you guys later.”

     My chair whined against the floor as I pushed back and rose to my feet with as a chorus of goodbyes reaching my ears. I half smiled and strode to the kitchen where I didn’t even bother to put on my coat, hat, and gloves. I just grabbed them and walked straight out the door. My hands were shaking with so much fury that I hardly knew what to do with myself.

     I was half way home surrounded by the total darkness when I dropped my coat, reached under my t-shirt, and pulled the dagger from its strap. With a cry of frustration, I threw the knife with all my might at a tree. It wedged into the wood perfectly and I knew it was the exact height of Morven’s chest. If he had been standing there it would have been a fatal throw. How I wished he was here to face me. I didn’t care if I died trying to kill him, I wanted him to pay for what he’d done.

     My anger slightly abated as I walked over to the poor tree and pulled out the knife. It was wedged in farther than I thought and with a giant tug and grunt, I slipped and fell to the ground. I laid there for a while and looked up at the barely visible sky through the tree branches where dark clouds hinted at an oncoming snowfall.

     The sound of pounding feet crunching over the frozen ground reached my ears, and I pounced to my feet. I had been chased too many times to not take this seriously and I held my dagger slightly behind my back for an element of surprise.

     “Who’s there?” I called out into the dark night, annoyed that my voice shook. I saw a flashlight come into view and all my muscles relaxed. No Hyven soldier would carry a flashlight. Thinking quickly, I put the hunting knife back in its sheath and strapped it against my belly. I had just enough time to throw on my thick jacket when the flashlight reached my face.

     “Hey!” I said in pain; the light was pointed directly in my eyes.

     “Sorry,” Trey said and I internally cringed.
Of all people, why him?

     “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern and I tried to stem my anger.  It was a nice gesture by him, but it had to stop there.

     “Yeah, I’m fine. Thanks for checking though, I really shouldn’t be walking around at night all by myself. Guess I just got used to it in Norway.” I rambled, hoping it was an acceptable response. I had no idea if teen girls walked around by themselves in Oslo, but I assumed Trey wouldn’t know that either.

     “Oh ok,” Trey replied.

     “Bye,” I said before he could say anything else. I could tell he wanted to say something more but I didn’t want to hear it. Not right now, not when my head was filled with Patrick’s memory.

     “Wait Lissie,” Trey called and stepped toward me. “There’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a while.”

    
Here we go
, I thought. I was going to stop him but thought better of it. It would maybe be more embarrassing if I told him that I knew he liked me and that I didn’t return his feelings.

     “I like you,” he said quickly, his breath clouded the air. “I’ve tried to get you to like me too, but then you left for so long. Would you consider going and getting, like, a cup of coffee or something with me tomorrow?”

     It was my turn to sigh, “Look Trey,” I put my hand to my head. “Thanks, and I like you too, but only as a friend. See—”

     He butted in, “Once you get to know me better you’ll like me. I know you will.” I could see in his eyes he wouldn’t take no for an answer. The frustration I had felt before was coming back quickly.

     I shook my head, “No, it wouldn’t be that way because—”

     “Yes, it could.” His eyes were lit from the light of the flashlight. That was twice he had cut me off. “You know we would be—”

     “Trey,” I said softly but sharp enough to cut him off; I was past feeling bad for him after he hadn’t taken the hint twice. “I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.”

     Finally, he stayed quiet. I turned, leaving him to stand there all alone, and although I felt bad I decided not to worry about it. He was the one who had pushed it too far, even when I was willing to be kind.

     Maybe it was because I was so mad at the world. Or more accurately, mad at Morven for what he did, and Patrick for telling me to run instead of being with him. A lump formed in my throat but I shoved it back. I would wait until I was in bed to cry, just like every night. My pillow was never dry before I fell asleep and I knew it would be a long, long time before it ever was again.

     I picked up my pace and ran up the pathway toward the house.

Warm steam rose around my face in little patterns of delicate swirls from the rim of my coffee mug. It was a brisk morning and the clouds outside threatened a coming snow fall. I inhaled deeply, letting the warm smell of the roasted beans fill my nostrils. Pressing the mug between my hands, I stared out the window and into the lightening sky. Sunrise was coming, but there was nothing but gray clouds within sight.

     I didn’t know how long I had been staring out the window, but my mind had run its course far away from where I stood. After a sleepless night, I often found myself staring off into the abyss, where logical thought gave way to tangents and streams of consciousness. It was the same problem I had when trying to fall asleep. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get my mind to calm down.

    
If it’s not crying it’s thinking
, I thought and took a sip of my coffee.

     The sound of approaching footsteps reached my ears and I snapped my body to attention, trying desperately to bring some life to my eyes. For a long time I had wondered if it was possible to look alive when I felt dead on the inside. Every time I worked at the restaurant, I tried my best to remind myself of who I had been, and I was always trying here at home. But not matter what I did or how I acted there was a distance between the people I used to know so well. Two weeks had passed by since my return and I still felt as though I had lost a part of myself. The girl I used to be was lost, but so was the one I had become when I was on the island. What was left of my heart tried desperately to breathe life into my lungs, but only enough to keep me breathing.

     “You’re up early,” Dad said as he exited the bedroom he shared with Jillian.

     “Yeah,” I agreed and turned away from the window. My overly large sweatshirt was toasty and comfortable and I sat down at the kitchen table with my legs crossed on the seat to keep my toes warm. It didn’t matter that my body was always regulated with the temperature now, I still acted on instinct. Some human things were easier to come back to than others.

     I watched as Dad moved about the kitchen pouring a cup of coffee and grabbing a cold piece of pizza from the fridge. He looked over at me before he took a bite, “Don’t tell Jillian,” he said and winked.

     A smile threatened to cross my lips and I shook my head. “I thought you were supposed to only eat clean food,” I said raising my hands to put up quotations around the word clean.

     “A man’s got to eat sometimes,” he laughed and came to sit down across from me. “What about you?”

     “Hmm,” I said and snapped back to reality. Even in the smallest spans of time my mind wandered.

     “Have you had anything to eat?” he asked holding up his half-eaten piece of pizza.

     “No,” I made a face, “I wasn’t very hungry. At least not for pizza.”

     “Ahh,” he nodded and continued to eat the cold bread and cheese concoction. He looked older somehow, but in a way that was agreeable. His eyes crinkled more around the edges as though he was so used to smiling, it had left its permanent trace. His once dirty blonde hair was now streaked with highlights of gray that I hadn’t noticed before; somehow in the amount of time I was gone, he had changed. Or maybe it was that he was subtly changing while I was here but it wasn’t until I was gone that I could notice the difference upon my return.

     His familiar crystal blue eyes reached mine and he took another bite.  “You need to eat something,” he said around the food in his mouth and scratched his chin, the sound of sharp whiskers made me cringe. Many a time I had been the receiver of whisker burns from the pale stubble on that weathered chin, but the memories of those days were filled with laughter.

     I shook my head to discharge the thoughts. Making myself fall back into this life wasn’t going to work if I continued to sit around and mope. Sure, there would be days when I would struggle more than others, but I was going to do it because
he
sacrificed his life for me. If it wasn’t for him, I wouldn’t even have this chance to get back to my family.

     “You need to shave,” I said coming back to the present.

     “Nah,” he rubbed his chin again. “Rugged is the only way for me.” The side of my mouth lifted at his attempt at a joke. At least he was trying.

     “Do you have any plans for today?” I asked and took another sip of my coffee.

     “Nope, just paperwork,” he said and it was his turn to grimace. I knew there were days when he wished he was out on the open sea, setting lobster traps, instead of running the business side of things. Twice this week I had caught him sitting in his work office, at the back of the house, staring out the window with a desire that bordered on obsession. He wasn’t meant to be kept indoors for work, but for now that’s what the job demanded of him.

     “Besides,” he continued, “it looks like we might have a snow storm headed our way. His eyes searched over my head and I turned to look out the smeared glass to the cloudy skies once more.

     “That’s what I thought too,” I acknowledged and turned back around. I caught him looking at me but he averted his eyes quickly. It was the same thing that had happened numerous times since I had returned. Every now and again I would catch the twins, Dad, or Jillian looking at me in a weird way. Sometimes it made me feel as though they expected me to sprout fins immediately and flop around on the ground, which was easier than when I saw them look at me with pity. Curiosity I could take, but pity was something I held at bay.

     “Do you have anything planned for today?” Dad turned my own question back on me. I shook my head.

     “No, well, I don’t know,” I shrugged. “I hadn’t thought about it yet. I don’t work today, so there isn’t much else to do.” I thought about the book that rested on my bedside table in my bedroom but knew I wouldn’t pick it up today. For some reason I couldn’t sympathize with the characters and when I had last tried to read, there was a hint of a romance that made me slam the book shut with more force than necessary.

     Dad nodded and for the first time I realized my mannerisms mirrored his. So often I nodded my head or shook it in response to a question rather than speaking the words. For some reason the thought gave me a bit of warmth, as though I belonged here.

     “You know what?” I said suddenly the idea hitting me. Dad looked up from his coffee mug to meet my gaze. “I think I’ll go for a walk, you know, get some fresh air.”

     Dad nodded and a small smile tugged at my mouth. Leaving my mug on the table, I darted to the stairs and up into my room to change. With black workout leggings, running shoes and a warm fleece jacket thrown on, I made my way back down the stairs and to the side door of the house. Dad was still sitting at the table, his hands around his own coffee cup, but the daily paper stretched out across the surface of the wood.

     Just seeing him brought emotions I had buried down deep within my soul to the surface. Without thinking, I approached him from behind and wrapped my arms around his strong shoulders.  He startled in surprise, but relaxed and patted my arms with his worn, work-roughened hands.

     “You’re not going somewhere are you?” he asked, and I noticed how he tried to keep his voice calm.

     “No,” I said and released my arms from around him and kissed him on the head. “That was for the last time.”

     He patted my arm again and I knew I was forgiven. It felt as though a weight had been lifted from my shoulders as I turned and left the house, stepping into the brisk morning Maine-air.

     My breath puffed in front of me, in little clouds that dissipated with the chilling breeze, as I made my way down the driveway and onto the road. This time I was taking the long way to town, wanting to avoid as many people as possible. There were hardly any cars along the almost private drive; I had little to fear of oncoming traffic.

     Scrunching my toes, I tried to walk comfortably in the tight athletic shoes. After months of going barefoot, shoes were one thing I was having a hard time adjusting too.  Each step on the asphalt sent a soft shock up my legs and I began to feel more aware of everything around me than I had in a long time. Taking a deep breath, I filled my lungs for what seemed like the first time in ages. The sounds of crackling branches and far off crashing waves reached my ears and there was a feeling of excitement in the air; a quiet shrouded form of anticipation for the looming snow fall. The energy of my surroundings filled me with the need to move. Like the thrum of a drum beat, I could feel the rhythm of energy pounding in my veins and before I knew what was happening, I was running.

     My legs pumped harder and harder as I streaked down the roadway and into town. My hair rippled in slow motion beside my face and I quickly pulled up the hood of the jacket, to keep unknowing eyes from seeing the odd movement.

     The feeling of my blood running through my body, my heart having to pump oxygen through my veins, only made me push forward faster. The need to feel alive thrummed through my entire being and I ran with a speed I never knew I had.

     Running across Main Street, I dodged around people but I hardly noticed their presence. I wanted and needed to get away from anyone nearby, and I surged forward into the outskirts of town where I kept on running. My pounding limbs kept me moving and when the snow began to fall I turned back toward town. It was almost midday when I reached Main Street once more and the shops and restaurants were crowded with bundled up tourists, who scuttled from one warm doorway to the next like crabs moving from meal to meal. I jogged past them without making eye contact, while my hood bounced up and down around my eyes.

     More than once, I heard someone call my name but ignored it, trying to pretend I was listening to music. I smiled internally, thinking about how ridiculous I was, but the need to keep going and feel something was enough to have kept me running for the past two hours.

     With a large exhalation, that blew the snowflakes off my lips, I saw the pier up ahead and ran for the wooden planks. Only before I stepped onto the solid beams, did I have the intelligence to slow my pace and stop running. My legs strained upon stopping and threatened to give way, but I kept walking through the newly fallen snow and onto the slick boards of the pier. The exhaustion in my legs and the pounding in my heart brought a heat to my face that I hadn’t felt in so long.

     Reaching the end of the pier, I looked down into the dark foaming waters that formed the mouth of the sea. With each slap-slap of the waves against the wooden poles, I felt my body ache for my fins, but I shook the thought from my mind. Resting against the railing, I looked out over the water at the passing boats entering the harbor. Through the falling snow I could make out the many fishermen covering their boats in the harbor, while those who entered were preparing their decks for the unloading of half a day’s catch. Others would continue to arrive throughout the day, but those stuck at the sea would soon have to fight the storm that was threatening on the horizon. From where I stood, I could see the white caps of the waves outside the harbor.

     I shivered and noticed a familiar boat docking at the harbor. The two pale heads were bent over their work as they prepared the boat for the oncoming storm. As if feeling my gaze, one of them looked up and saw me standing on the pier. He smacked his brother and pointed, from where I stood I could see the fear in their eyes. I shook my head and waved to them, working hard to smile.

    
I won’t leave like that ever again
, I thought. It would take them a long time to trust me again, even though I had made headway with my father.

     As the twins covered the boat with routine ease, I made my way along the pier and down the dock to their boat. Sliding my hands in my pockets, I could feel the coldness of my fingers but still felt warm all throughout my body.

     “Hey,” I said coming up on them.

     “Hey,” they both grunted as they pulled the cover tight over the boat, and flashed me identical grins. How I had missed seeing those dimples.

     “Need a hand?” I asked and moved to help before they answered. The motions all came back quickly, my muscles remembering better than my brain, instinctively tying the knots just right.

     The job done, the boys grabbed their cargo and began to carry it to the awaiting truck. I snatched a heavy tool box before following them.

     “I see you didn’t catch anything today,” I said and shoved the tool box into the bed of the truck.

     “Yeah, we just took her out for a routine maintenance check.” Derek said and helped me push my box in farther. “We thought it was a good day for it.”

     I nodded and looked up at the falling snow flakes as my hood fell backward and allowed the cool air to shroud my ears.

     I jumped up into the bed of the truck, without their asking, and grabbed the cover for the bed. Already flecks of snow were falling on the black vinyl, little specks contrasting the darkness with a sharp white. Handing the cover to Sean, I saw the approval in his eyes as he watched me move. I guess I had been right earlier, I had been cooped up for too long.

     “What are you doing out so early?” Sean asked as he pulled the cover on tight, his twin holding the other side so I could snap it into place.

     “Just went for a run,” I said and caught his curious look from the corner of my eye. “Great weather for it, huh?” I asked, feeling my sense of humor rising.