Lara Jade's Point of View:
After a long, grueling day, school finally ended, but I couldn't bring myself to be thrilled, because Monday would be coming soon enough…
East Carteret High School arranged its schedule where Friday is the first day, to get introductions and rules out of the way before starting a new week with new expectations. The bus ride home was quiet after I boarded. No one sat with me and, even though I tried my best to ignore them, could still see them staring in my peripheral. Even Karen, the bus driver, couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror a few times.
I rested my head on the cool glass, my eyes following the landscape as we passed by, and plugged in my Ipod, listening to Chris Tomlin's version of "Holy is the Lord". It was Mom's favorite…
Mine was the final bus stop, so it wasn't long before I found my mind wandering onto other topics. Only a select few of my thoughts centered on schoolwork; The majority, I soon became conscious of, seemed to revolve around the new and rather notorious Alexander Fortesque.
"Hey," he said, his voice soft and reassuring, as if he didn't want to scare me.
"Um… hi?" I meant that as a statement but it came out as more of a question, unused to someone randomly coming up to speak to me. "You didn't… you weren't standing here the whole time, right?"
"Oh, no, I, uh… No." He smiled, a tight smile that barley showed any of his perfectly straight, white teeth. An attempt to cover the fact displayed right in front of us, no doubt. He had been standing there, but was too ashamed to admit it. He didn't strike me as one interested in gossip, so why would he stand in a corner outside the cafeteria where all the best rumors were told?
"Okay then." I turned and began walking away when his hand started to reach for my arm. He stopped himself short of making skin to skin contact. My pastel blue eyes met his dark orbs - a color that was not a deep brown, as I had originally assumed, but black like obsidian- and a shiver crawled up my spine as if fingers of ice touched my soul. I wanted to look away, but found that I could not. His gaze was magnetic and its pull was too strong for me to fight… which was weird. We stood like that for what seemed like minutes, though it could have only been seconds because I could still hear Katie talking to the others, just staring into each others eyes. When he finally looked away, it felt as if a piece of me just broke away. I longed to look into his eyes again for some inexplicable reason. Trying to shake off the odd sensation, I tried to make a joke of it.
"Well, that was… peculiar." Hey, I never said anything about my profession being related to comedy. In fact, I was kind of leaning towards psychology.
"A bit, yeah," he replied, his voice laced with a light accent unknown to me. Heck, if the rumors were true, then it could be a mix of ten different accents all rolled into one. He rubbed the back of his neck and kept his gaze down at the floor while mine continues to search his face.
I begin to wonder why he stopped me in the first place when he speaks up once more, his eyes on me once more but avoiding my own eyes at all costs. He settled for the small freckle on the side of my nose, something not many people noticed at all.
"I just moved here, so I've been having a little trouble finding all my classes on time. Would you mind showing me the way to my next class?"
"Oh." Now it was my turn to stammer and look like a fool. "I, uh… I don't think that's such a good idea. I mean, the teachers will excuse you cause you've only just moved here, but you see, my next teacher… she's kind of renowned for her 'detention for tardiness rule'. I would, but…" I stopped before sounding too mean and gnawed at my bottom lip, something that was a bit of a nervous habit of mine.
"Oh." His face held a neutral expression, but I could almost sense how displeased he was. Alexander forced a tight smile, as if making the attempt to convince me otherwise. "Quite alright, then. I wouldn't want to get you in trouble with your teachers. But if you could point me in the right direction? It's room 146 with Ms. Quintana and I have no idea where it might be."
"Oh, yeah, sure. It's actually just around the corner. You'll follow that hallway-" I pointed to the branch of hallway that lead away from the main corridor "- and it will curve a bit before breaking off into this wishbone shape, I guess you could call it. Anyway, take the right side and the door should be the first one."
"Brilliant. Thank you for your assistance." Alexander reached for my hand and paused right before touching it, as if he were afraid I was diseased or something. Go figure. Even the new kid could identify a social leper when he saw one.
As I thought this, Alexander took hold of it - and shock rolled through me because his hand felt like an icebox - and gently lifted it up to his lips, placing a small kiss on the back of my hand before moving onward, towards the southern hall, when he turned to face me again. "And good luck with Coach Randolph."
I froze. "How…?" I didn't even know how to complete that question. Even so, he was quickly retreating to his next class, leaving me slightly befuddled.
"Lara, hon?" a gravely, smoker's voice sounded, snapping me out of my recollection. Karen stood over me, her face pulled together in concern, and I realized we were stopped at my house. God only knows how many times she called my name before actually unbuckling to see what the problem was.
Nodding, I grabbed my backpack, slung it over my shoulder and trotted towards the bus steps, staring at the floor as I did so. Only Karen's troubled tone stopped me. She only said my name, but I could see in her eyes how she wanted to comfort me in my time of grief.
"Thank you, Karen," I mumbled, letting her know I understood her silent condolence, "God be with you."
Before heading inside, I peeked over at the manor. A black Porche replaced the hideous U-Haul from this morning and gleamed in the sunlight. The expensive car alone made our house look like something out of a scrap yard. Pathetic how some people needed worldly goods to make them content in life. But who was I to say so? Nothing, but a lowly preacher's daughter in the minds of the majority.
Something flickered to my right. I looked to a small rectangular window to see the white lace fall back into place.
The noisy diesel bus pulled away as I quietly shut the front door.
"Hello?" I called, my voice echoing down the empty halls.
It was so quiet, so abnormally quiet. The passing of the first week did little to help me adapt to the eerie stillness that permeated this house.
Mom used to always greet me when I came home. Even if one of us had a particularly rough day, we could always turn it around, either by sharing a funny story or concoct new recipes and make a mess of the kitchen. Her harmonious laugh could always turn bad days to good, even if she was laughing at me. These walls would never hear her laughter again.
The silence reminded me of her final days, when she was hospitalized, but even then Dad was here to make sure I got home safely. Rarely would he go to the hospital without me, which meant he would be here waiting. Now, Mom would never come back home and Dad… he would probably spend half the night at the church, just trying to avoid the sheer silence that engulfed me now.
I was on my own.
An abrupt feeling of abandonment overcame me, and it was impossible to ignore.
I threw my bag to the side and slid to the floor, my shoulders shaking with grief. The sobs I held back this day and days before struck me, and I could no longer hold them back. My body folded in on itself, legs coming up to my chest, my head resting in my hands. Tears soon flowed over the brim, blurring my vision. A piece of my heart felt as if someone just ripped it out, leaving a bloody hole in my chest.
'How long until I no longer feel this way? Please, God, please... Make it stop,' I silently pleaded.
I could stay that way for no more than a couple minutes before rationality won out over melancholy. There were things I needed to get done. Dinner had to be cooked. Homework must be finished.
So I busied myself with this, keeping my mind solely on the task at hand so I wouldn't fall apart a second time. In midst of my sandwich making and soup stirring, the phone rang, reverberating through the vacant walls… 'Best not to think of that,' I mentally reprimanded myself.
"Hello?" I asked, balancing the phone between my ear and shoulder so my hands could remain busy on dinner.
"Good you answered," Kate's voice sounded on the other end, "You aren't busy are you? I was going to catch up with you before school ended, but your bus came early. I just wanted to know if you were okay. You looked kind of haunted and its only been two weeks since… well, you know. You looked even more upset after you and Mr. Hottie Fortesque spoke, and I just wanted to make sure I didn't have to go whoop some butt for making my friend cry."
So she did notice after all. And why wouldn't she? Katie was the eyes and ears of the school and always seemed aware of everything going on around her. I only wished she wasn't as observant today. "I'm fine, Kate. Thanks. I just, yeah," I muttered, hoping she'd buy it. I didn't lie often, especially to her of all people, so there really was no reason for her not to.
Too bad she didn't.
"Lara, you never have been a great liar, let alone a good one, so don't try it on "the master". What happened? I mean at first you were kinda shocked, but then you guys started ogling, and after he left - I saw him kiss you by the way! Anyway, after he left, you just seemed gloomy. "
In the back of my mind, I could hear the front door open and close.
"Look. We weren't ogling, okay? Something weird happened and I can't explain it, but Dad's home. I'll talk to you at school on Monday, okay? Our usual spot?"
She seemed reluctant, but agreed and gave her goodbyes anyway. Dad arrived in the kitchen shortly after I hung up.
"Katie?" he stated simply, "As if I even had to ask. It's like a tradition you guys have set up." He made an attempt at laughter, but it fell short. I didn't respond.
"Look, Lara, I was thinking. I know we're both still recovering from Mom's passing, but I… I feel silly for asking this… Do you remember those back-to-school camping trips we used to make? The ones at Hammocks Beach? Now, I know you might be a bit old for this kind of thing, but I was wondering-"
"I'd love to," I interrupted, looking up to meet his puffy red eyes. I didn't agree for me; I hadn't been camping in years, but I needed to remind myself that Dad was just as affected by Mom's passing and did not want to stay in this house anymore than I did.
Maybe on our way, we could regain something we'd both lost the night we received that awful phone call.
'If only life were that easy,' the voice in my mind whispered as I got back to stirring the thick red soup, reminding me too much of… I sighed. Tomato probably wasn't the best choice, after all.