Secrets of the Sleeper: True Nature Series: Book One (5 page)

The rest of the day was uneventful. Dad was home when Ruthie dropped me off, and I was happy to see that the scratch on the side of his face was almost gone.

And the best part was that there were no nightmares that night, which is not to say that I didn’t dream. I did remember two sets of eyes flitting through my subconscious, one brown and one blue.

Bobby

The next few days
moved along slowly for me. And the sole reason was that Zander seemed to be avoiding me. I kept seeing him around campus, but he slipped away before I passed him. In class, he sat as far away from me as possible and avoided my gaze. I couldn’t help but assume he had heard about me, the “me” from last year. It was inevitable, I guess, but it hurt me like nothing else. He had been like a knight in shining armor the first time I met him, as stupid as that sounded, and I had hoped he was going to be different than everyone else.

We didn’t see him at lunch, either. All of us wondered where he was, minus Isaac, of course. Phoebe and Isaac were continually bombarded by hopefuls, and Val took up permanent residence next to Ruthie. Isaac kept edging closer to me, making me think perhaps Ruthie had it right and he did like me, but then with all the girls coming by to flirt, well, it was hard to tell. Anyway, my mind kept wandering to Zander, wondering what was up with him.

I also spent a lot of lunch staring around the tables and noticing who was new and how students had changed over the last year. There was the typical jock table, the cheerleader table, the band table, the chess club table, and so on. And then there were the fringe elements, students who didn’t seem to belong to any of the groups. I felt like them. I was pretending here at this table full of beautiful and popular kids. I caught the eye of Bobby, sitting two tables away. His gaze skittered away. I remembered him from middle school. He had been pretty popular back then. I wondered what had happened to change him. His hair was messy and overly long. His clothes fit loosely. And he didn’t seem to be talking to anyone. Then I remembered. His parents had died tragically in some random drive-by up in Oakland, and Bobby and his brother had been split up between relatives. I felt sick to my stomach imagining losing both my parents. But it had been about four years since his tragedy. Why hadn’t I ever reached out to him? Had I ignored him like everyone ignored me last year?

Everyone at my table was busy chatting with someone other than me, so I slipped out and headed over to Bobby. When I sat down across from him, he looked up with wide eyes.

“’sup?” he mumbled.

“Not much. Just bored. Thought you looked bored, too. So…” I started picking at my nail polish. A few tables away, several kids watched us.
Whatever
, I thought.

Bobby looked around as if to see what was really going on. I followed his gaze. He was looking at my lunch table. Isaac was staring at us.

“Looks like your boyfriend can help you with your problem.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” I said defensively. “Hey, I just wanted to talk.”

He raised his eyebrows and smirked. I tried again.

“Um. Well, I just wanted to check on you ’cause…well…I just have this new… Um, I don’t know…I just know how tough losing a parent is now and…”

Two bright spots appeared on his cheeks. “Yeah. Sorry about your mom.” He frowned, crunching up his soda can and looking for a garbage can.

I cleared my throat. “Thanks. I was probably a total jerk when your parents died. Sorry. I know how much that sucks now. But I was just wondering. Well, you’ve been dealing with it longer, and…well…I was just wondering how you do it.”

Understanding dawned on him and his face closed in. “Me? I’m not
dealing
with it.” His lips thinned. “Look at me. Do I seem like I’m
dealing
with it?”

The anger shocked me. What did I do? But then I saw something else in his eyes. Pain. In fact, I felt it. Unbelievable anguish. It happened four years ago and it was still so much a part of him. Tears welled up in my eyes. I recognized his pain. I knew he was probably fielding the blame. And I hurt thinking that he had been feeling this way for so long. No wonder he looked so bad. Was I going to be this messed up four years from now? What was there to hope for? I brushed away a runaway tear.

Bobby noticed and blanched, regret pulling his face down, trying to capture my gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s still fresh for you, but I’m the last person you want to ask for advice.”

He rose to leave, but I grabbed his hand braced on the table, stopping his exit. He sighed and sat back down, glaring at me again. I wanted him to feel happy, like he used to be. No one should feel like this for as long as he had.

“Bobby. I remember you in Mrs. Frost’s history class way back in seventh grade. You were hilarious and happy and really, really fun. I wish you could be that person again.” I said it so fervently, Bobby’s eyes shifted off to one side and then back to mine. They were angry and sorrowful. But now I saw hope in them, too. I squeezed his fingers, thinking that he deserved to get over this, that his parents would have wanted him to be happy, that his brother needed him to be better.

“Bobby,” I insisted. “It will get better.” My hand felt warm, but I continued, gripping his fingers tighter. “You have to be better. Daniel is your younger brother, right?”

He nodded, blankly. I remembered that Daniel had been a couple years younger. I wondered where he was.

“He needs you,” I said, not knowing where that came from, but feeling that it was true. “You
will
be better.” Bobby’s eyes seemed to glow. I hoped I hadn’t made him cry.

I pulled my hand away, suddenly feeling tired, but Bobby grabbed it back and leaned in closely. I could definitely see the moisture in his eyes now.

“You’re right, Tru. I’ll do it. I’ll call him tonight.” He smiled. “Hey, are you all right?”

I smiled back, too weary to reply. I was feeling so tired, I thought about resting my head on the table. I felt like I might fall over, actually. No. I didn’t want to pass out in front of all these people. I gripped the edge of the table just as an arm curled around my shoulders. I turned to see blue eyes. Zander. And then I felt that wonderful hum.

“Sorry, Bobby. I feel a little weird. I-I just need to get out of here.” I tried to stand up. Zander supported me and the dizziness passed.

“Wow. Weird head rush, I guess. I should have eaten more for lunch.” I laughed at myself. Zander still hadn’t said anything, but he scowled at Bobby.

“Hey, man, I didn’t do anything.”

Zander walked me toward the closest building, sheltering me from student eyes with an arm around my shoulder. By the time we got to the girls’ restroom, I felt almost normal.

I pushed away from Zander, laughing hollowly. “Sorry about that. Thanks for keeping me upright.”

“What just happened?” he asked point blank.

My eyebrows leaped. He acted like I had done something wrong. “I don’t know. Maybe I ate something bad. Maybe I didn’t eat enough?”

“Tru!” a voice called down the hall. It was Isaac. Great. By the time he caught up to me, Zander had slipped away. Strange. I tried to shrug off the feeling of disappointment.

Isaac growled during my explanation, and I felt like laughing at him. Seriously, he could be really funny sometimes. I felt tired but for some reason giddy, despite the whole Isaac/Zander weirdfest. I saw Bobby in the hall later that day, and he gave me a smile and a wave, which made me smile hugely back at him. I hoped that I had made a new friend.

Tight Places

After school, I waited
for Ruthie to do her flirty good-bye thing with Val before we took off. Isaac walked up to us flashing his commercial smile.

“Hey, Ruthie,” said Isaac, “can you give Phoebe and me a lift to our mom’s shop?” His mom ran a jewelry counter inside a clothing store that was kind of on the way home for Ruthie.

“Sure, but it’ll be tight because I’ve got Tru, too.”

“No prob,” replied Isaac. “And here’s Phoebe, right on time.”

Phoebe was looking angrily at Isaac, who just stared back. It was like they were having a silent conversation.

Ruthie leaned over to me and whispered, “It’s a twin thing, I think. They do that all the time. Used to freak me out.”

Whatever the problem was, they snapped out of it. We looked at them expectantly, but Isaac just smiled and herded us down the hall, saying, “Come on, ladies, let’s go!”

As we got close to the car, Phoebe yelled, “Shotgun,” unenthusiastically.

“Oh, come on! I don’t think Isaac is going to fit in the back of a mini by himself, let alone with me!” I snickered.

Phoebe just raised an eyebrow. “You’d be surprised what he can do when motiva—” Isaac coughed awkwardly. “And since I’m taking the front, he has no choice,” she continued in a monotone voice.

“Hmmm,” mused Ruthie, looking between the two.

“What?” I said.

“Later,” she promised.

Well, this will be interesting
, I thought. We dumped our backpacks in the trunk and Isaac proceeded to squeeze in the backseat—it was like Cirque du Soleil. I heard a chuckle in the distance and saw Zander walking toward a green truck and watching Isaac. Behind the wheel sat the man I thought I’d seen through our classroom window the first day of school. G.I. Joe guy. Guess I didn’t imagine him. Strange, though. He was glaring at Zander. What was up with him? He looked too young to be Zander’s father, maybe twenty-something. He didn’t look anything like him, so I doubted he was a sibling. He sure did not seem to appreciate the humor of our situation like Zander did.

“Okay. You next, Tru,” said Isaac. I looked in and thought that my jeans alone would have trouble fitting in there. I didn’t know how I was going to manage all of me.

“Uh...” I said doubtfully.

“Come on, you can fit,” he urged, holding out his hand.

I braced one hand on the doorframe and gave him my other. I landed in his lap.

“Oh!” I gasped. I looked up at him and then out the window behind him. The green truck was passing us and now Zander had a scowl on his face. Maybe the two
could
be brothers, I thought, amending my earlier observation.

I scrambled into my seat. “I don’t think I can get my seat belt on,” I squeaked.

Eventually, I was secured and squished up next to Isaac, the two of us as close as two stalks of celery. I could have sworn there was space on the other side of him, but I guess he needed room for his giant muscle arms.

Isaac had his arm around the back of my seat. As uncomfortable as I was, smashed into the backseat, I tried not to laugh at how much worse he looked. Ruthie had put the top down so his head wouldn’t wrench a hole through it, but his legs were folded awkwardly to the side and took up half of my leg room. I tried to put some space between us. The breeze was blowing my hair all over the place, so I reached up with both hands to try and confine it.

“Allow me,” said Isaac chivalrously as he pulled his arm over the head rest and trapped my hair under it. It worked to keep my hair from flying out of the car, but it pulled me closer to him and I became nestled up against his side. It was more cozy than I wanted but comfortable, so I just went with it.

I caught Ruthie’s eyes in the mirror. She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. I giggled.

“What’s so funny?” asked Isaac, leaning down to my ear, his breath tickling me.

Couldn’t he see the humor is this? “Duh! Us in this backseat!” I replied bluntly.

“Are you uncomfortable?” he asked.

“Not really, but
you
have to be!” I smacked his knee, which wasn’t that far from my face. “How can you stand this?” I laughed.

He let loose a snort and grinned. “I’m okay.”

Phoebe turned back to us and smirked. “Yeah, don’t worry about him.”

Isaac glared back.

Whatever
, I thought. We were almost to the store. Ruthie whipped into the parking lot and came to a snappy stop that would have thrown me into her seat if I weren’t wedged tightly under Isaac’s arm.

“All giants out of my car,” announced Ruthie. Phoebe threw her a dirty look.

“Well, seriously, girl!” defended Ruthie. “I go away for two months and you’re suddenly colossal big. I swear, all my friends are supermodel height while I’m shortness defined.”

“Drama much?” replied Phoebe. “Besides, I’ve reduced my dating pool by 80 percent. Plus, you get to wear whatever heels you want and no worries.
So
not feeling sorry for you.”

“Huh. You’re right!” agreed Ruthie, pacified now that she thought she had one up on Phoebe. “Now move your mammoth butts out of here, folks. I’m not kidding, I’ve got to get home!” Luckily, Phoebe didn’t take offense and stepped out of the car.

“Harsh, Ruthie,” I said as I tried to extricate myself from Isaac.

As soon as Phoebe was out, Isaac pushed up her seat and started wiggling free himself. As he stood up, he grabbed me around the waist and lifted me out. His fingers dug into my sides, and I couldn’t help it when I literally convulsed, my body twisting away from him.

“Errr…aahhh…stop!” I would have dropped to the pavement if he hadn’t been quick enough to catch me.

He pulled me up close and whispered, “Ticklish, eh?”

I shoved him away with a “No!” I hated it when people found out how ticklish I was and thought, “Oh, wouldn’t it be fun to tickle her!” It wasn’t fun for me, it was torture!

Isaac backed away, hands up. “Okay, okay! No tickling.” He still smirked.

Ruthie revved the car. “Going. Now!”

“K!” I said. A quick farewell wave, and we were off.

Ruthie was a little desperate to get home, so we got to my house in record time, her ranting about her parents’ stupid rules most of the way. I barely had time to get the scoop on her and Val. She’d still been crushing on him for years. I had no idea. She was a little defensive, probably because she had talked smack about him for years. And I’d believed it this whole time. Then she complained about most of her teachers and how little time she had that night to finish the mountain of homework that should never be allowed on the first week of school.

When she got like this, it was better to just let her vent. It was a Ruthie bubble that just got bigger and bigger until it popped and then she could see everyone else again. But it didn’t bother me today.

Dad’s car was in the driveway and I could smell a roast in the Crockpot as soon as I opened the front door. We’d starve to death without a Crockpot.

“I’m home!” I yelled.

Dad’s head popped out of his office. “Hey, how was school, honey?” He had a hopeful, yet veiled look on his face. Probably expecting the worst. He had been giving me some space since school started.

“Not bad, really.”

A smile spread across his face, relief pulling it wide. “That’s wonderful! Come on in and tell me all about it.”

My breath hitched. Again, I didn’t want to rehash the last few days; they had been bizarre and wonderful and normal all at the same time. What did he expect me to say? It was
school
! How could I get out of this? My heavy backpack gave me an idea. I let it pull me over a little as if it were filled with rocks.

“Actually, I don’t have time. The principal is shooting for a higher API score again. And the teachers all dumped on us already. I’ve gotta get started on it now, or I’ll never finish tonight.”

“Oh, okay, honey. We’ll catch up later. Besides, I’m a little overloaded with work right now. Our project fell way behind and the bosses are screaming for miracles.” He sighed. “I may be in the office a lot tomorrow and next week.”

“That’s okay, Dad. I’m going to be buried anyway, if the next week is anything like this one.” Not true, because frankly, my classes this year just weren’t that hard. But it got me out of talking about my day like kindergarten sharing time. Besides, I was glad Dad’s work was busy. Dad loved his job, which is why he wasn’t retired completely yet. And he was way good at it, too. That’s what Mom used to say. She would have seen right through me. I missed her right now. Dad must have noticed something in my face because he pulled me into a hug.

“Love you, Tru Lee and always,” he whispered. He always said that as a little joke. My middle name is Lee. Yep, pretty lame.

“Not breathing.” That was my little hint that I was ready for the hug to be over. He laughed and sent me off.

Hours later, I jumped with a strangled gasp as Dad popped his head in and said “Good Night, Honey!”

“Geez! You almost gave me a heart attack!”

He chuckled. “Sorry, I thought you were studying.”

“I was!” I gestured to the messy assortment of textbooks and paper across my desk.

I ran my hands over my face, trying to shake off the sleep. One second I was sitting at my desk with my pre-calculus book cracked open, staring out my bedroom window at the wild tomato plants that had started by themselves from my mom’s old garden, and next I was almost falling out of my chair in fright.

“Oh, pardon me!” he said gallantly. “That osmosis thing never worked for me. But better luck to you. And, sweet dreams!” Dad ducked out before I could toss a pillow his way.

“Goodnight, Dad!” I yelled before turning back to my untidy desk.

Bits of a dream swam around my mind. It hadn’t been scary. It was mostly a memory, I think. When I was a little girl, Mom and I planted a garden from seeds. I checked on the rounded rows of dirt almost hourly, impatiently waiting for them to sprout. Mom finally told me to leave them alone so they could sleep. So I decided to take a nap out there in the garden. I bedded down on some patio chair cushions with my fluffy toy dog and a blanket.

When Dad picked me up to carry me into the house, he asked, “How’s my little gardener?”

I said, “I said I’m no gardener, I’m a sleeper. I’m not sprouted yet.”

Dad had laughed at that back then, just like he’d been laughing at me now. It was so surreal.

Why had I remembered that? Had it really happened? The phrase “I’m a sleeper” kept repeating in my head, distracting me. Finally, I resorted to my headphones, the music blocking out annoying thoughts and allowing me to focus on homework. If luck was on my side, I’d get to sleep for real by midnight.