I tap my feet impatiently against the sidewalk, following the rhythm of the song blaring through my headphones. Ooga-chaka ooga ooga ooga-chaka ooga ooga ooga-chaka ooga ooga ooga-chaka…I can't stop this feeling…
Anna leans out of the front door and pokes me. "So is he on his way?"
I shrug and pluck one of my earbuds out. "I guess. He said 2 o'clock."
She nods quickly and peers down the street, then looks the other way. "Well, let me know when he gets here. I want to watch you guys interact."
"Because that's not creepy or anything."
"It's not! I'm like a scientist. I'm observing my subjects in their natural habitat."
"So now I'm being treated like a lab rat. Thanks, Anna."
"Anytime!" she calls cheerily as she retreats back inside. It's pretty hot out here, but I'm tired of sitting inside and waiting for something to happen. So here I am, sitting on our front porch step, listening to the Guardians of the Galaxy Awesome Mix Volume 1 and trying not to check my phone every ten seconds. He did say two o'clock, right?
Just as I'm reaching for my phone again, a dark blue car pulls up to the curb in front of my house. The window unrolls and Jack waves at me, a gesture that I return. "I'm just gonna let them know I'm leaving," I call to him before running back inside. Now I feel like a moron for waiting on the porch, but there's nothing I can do about that now.
"Anna, he's here," I yell into the kitchen, "but don't be weird or anything. I'm going now, don't follow me."
She doesn't respond except to rush to the window, wave at Jack, then launches into her new favorite song: "Jack and Clara sitting in a tree…" I roll my eyes and slam the door as I leave, then wince. Mom's gonna make me pay for that later. There is no door slamming or foot pounding allowed in our house.
It only takes a few seconds to cross the lawn to Jack's car, and I open the passenger side door and swing into the vehicle quickly. I have a theory that being decisive in my actions makes me a less awkward person altogether, and I'm testing that today in small ways, like not hesitating to get into Jack's car.
"Hey," I say. That was lame.
"Long time no see," he responds while pulling back out into the street.
"Sorry about that, by the way."
He looks at me with an incredulous look on his face. "Sorry?"
Now I'm confused. "Yeah?"
"You're apologizing to me?"
" I guess…?" I feel like this pattern of answering each other with questions isn't really getting us anywhere, but I honestly don't know where he's going with this.
"Clara, why are you apologizing? You had a tragedy, you had to deal with it. There's nothing to apologize for."
"Oh." I sit in silence for a moment. "But I left you high and dry at the camp, and I felt bad about it. So just let me apologize, okay?"
He grins at the windshield, but doesn't take his eyes off the road. "I accept your unnecessary apology. Happy now?"
"Yes I am."
"I am really sorry about your aunt and uncle, though. If there's anything I can do…" Before he can continue, I put up my hand to stop him. I have never liked the "if there's anything I can do" speech, partly because it's so generic and over-used, and partly because usually the people who are saying it really have no intention of "doing" anything. I've also heard it so often lately that I'm just plain sick of it.
"I'm fine, Jack, but thank you. I don't want to stay moping around forever. That's not what Kevin and Angie would have wanted for me. If I ever need a moment, I'll just go to the bathroom for a few minutes or something, okay?"
He shrugs. "Okay." But something about the look on his face and the set of his shoulders makes me worried. To avoid silence, I try a new approach. "So…how have you been? It's been a while since we talked."
"Busy," he says. "Football two-a-days start next week, and my mom's been going crazy trying to get me and Soph – that's my sister – all ready for school, and…can I ask you a question?"
Uh oh. "Sure."
"Have you – " he starts, but is cut off by his phone ringing. He fumbles for it, trying to keep his eyes on the road while fishing the device out of his pocket, and it takes him a few seconds. I recognize his ringtone as the song I was listening to earlier on the porch. "I'm hooked on a feeling…"
"Hello? Hi mom…yeah, I'm on my way back home right now…of course I remembered the list, you only told me fifteen times…mmmhmm, she's with me…a few hours maybe, but I don't exactly know…Mom? I'm literally right outside. Okay, bye." As he hangs up, we pull up to a house that I remember as vividly as if I lived there myself. Two floors, red brick exterior, hilariously small shrubs in the front yard that were meant to grow to twice their size, but for some reason never did. At least there's one thing that never changed.
As we walk up the sidewalk to the door, Jack turns back to me and whispers, "Prepare yourself. My mom and sister know you're coming, and may or may not ambush you."
I nod. "Roger that."
He grins at me and swings the front door open. "Welcome to my humble abode."
I look around for the familiar brown couch and the red welcome mat that I remember, but they're gone. The inside of the house is entirely different. Different furniture, different decoration, even the walls aren't the colors that I remember them. Well, I guess it has changed. Darnit. Before I can take a closer look at anything, though, movement from the kitchen distracts me.
"Hello!" Mrs. Overland – Mrs. Frost – beams at me. She even looks different. Happier, and maybe a little thinner. "You must be Clara. Jack's told us all about you."
"He has?" I ask. How could he tell about me? He doesn't know me anymore.
She nods, gives Jack a sneaky look, and holds out her hand to me. I take it and we shake firmly. I like people who give solid handshakes, they seem more trustworthy. "It's very nice to meet you Mrs. Frost," I say. Be cool, Elsa. She doesn't hate you. I can't help it, though, I start to sweat.
"Is this her? Your partner?" I hear a young voice call from behind me, and I turn to see Sophie peering at me from the bottom of the staircase. She has definitely changed. She's taller, for one, and her hair is longer. I smile. "You must be Sophie."
Her look of hesitation turns to a beaming smile at my words. "Clara, right?" I nod at her. Maybe I should never tell them who I am. We seem to all get along better when I'm Clara.
Jack rolls his eyes. "Okay, well if the welcoming committee is finished, can we get to work now?"
"Oh! Of course you can, wouldn't want to keep you from your work," Mrs. Frost says, and I can't really tell if she's joking or being serious.
"Kay, well then, let's just head up to my room then, Clara." With that, he bounds up the staircase, taking two steps at a time, and I follow after a last smile at my "welcoming committee". I could find my way to his room blindfolded if I had to, but I remind myself that Clara's never set foot in this house before, so I stay behind Jack and pretend to be looking around at things.
His room is at the end of the hallway, the second door on the right, and I stop in the entrance to take it in. Jack's room is cluttered, just as I knew it would be, and it doesn't look like he's gotten new furniture in the three years I was gone. His desk is covered with papers and scattered pencils, and the walls are covered with posters of musicians, professional athletes, and a few stills of movies. A guitar leans against the bed, which is the only neat thing in the room. There's also a portable piano keyboard in the far corner by the window. Jack has achieved what I would call "organized chaos" in his room; there's a lot going on, but it looks very controlled all the same.
While I've been surveying the room, Jack has been swiping up old shirts and socks from the floor and stuffing them into the closet. "Welcome to my room!" he announces with a flourish once the closet doors are closed.
I take a step inside and look around again. "I love what you haven't done with the place," I say, but I smile just to let him know that I'm kidding.
He just laughs. "It's not usually this bad, I didn't have time to clean it properly this morning."
"Excuses will get you nowhere."
"Eh, it was worth a shot."
"But if you think that was dirty, you should see my room right now. It's a pit of despair."
He looks thoughtful for a moment. "So back to my question from earlier in the car…" he starts, and I can feel my face turning to stone. Poker face.
"Huh?" I say. Trying to be nonchalant is hard.
"Have you ever heard of a girl named Elsa Winters?"