For Always Read online

  “A harem,” he grinned as one of his eyebrows rose, “now that sounds like an idea.”

  We both chuckled and I let out the long breath I’d held while waiting for his reaction.

  “Hey Stephanie,” I loved when he said my name. It sounded so pretty when he said it. “Didn’t you and Jennifer go to the same school?” he asked.

  I nodded, “And Christine,” I added.

  “Do you know if Jennifer has a boyfriend?”

  I couldn’t swallow. He liked her? I wanted to punch him in the ribs. Of all the insensitive things! How dare he ask that? I plastered a smile on my face. I would not let him see how much that hurt.

  “I don’t know,” I replied.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll find out,” he assured me with a pat on the back.

  Like I would toss and turn all night not knowing.

  “See you,” I turned my attention back to my book, doing my best to keep it together.

  He reached out and tugged at me encouragingly, “Come on, sit with us.”

  I looked over at the table. Jennifer and Christine were rolling their eyes, glaring at me.

  “Nah,” I shook my head, “I’ll meet up with you later.”

  Somehow in those few seconds I focused on Jordan and not his fan club, Jennifer decided to come get him. She sashayed over, in her skin tight jeans and even tighter shirt. She kept her focus fixated on Jordan and ignored me, like I didn’t exist at all. Jennifer’s lips extended into a venomous grin, while her eye lashes fluttered flirtatiously. Jordan didn’t resist as she grasped his hand and swung it playfully.

  “We miss you,” she spoke in a phony, saccharine tone.

  Jordan looked back at me apologetically as she pulled him away, making sure to wiggle and shake as much as possible with every movement.

  “Why do you want to hang out with her? She’s so weird,” Jennifer said in a very loud whisper only two feet away from me, for my benefit more than his. I understood her motivation. She was sending me a message: keep away from Jordan.

  I looked down, not wanting anyone to notice my eyes getting watery. I’d grown accustomed to pretending I didn’t hear the whispering and jeering behind my back. High school was supposed to be different. I thought it was a new start with a slew of people I didn’t know. People who didn’t know me.

  I hated my middle school classmates. All of them. Especially those two. They were poison to the soul. Shallow and mean. They needed to take a good long look in the mirror. Jennifer was so skinny she looked like her insides were sucking her outsides in. And let me not forget Nosey Christine. Her honker resembled that of Cyrano De Bergerac. But sill they managed to mock anyone in their line of sight. They did it for years. And what did they have to show for it?

  Jordan’s attention. The only thing in the world I wanted.

  The scoffing behind my back didn’t faze me anymore. The long looks and laughter that broke out when I’d pass them was a fact of life. They loved to talk behind people’s backs, mine especially, because I never fought back. But now they went too far. They did it in front of Jordan. This meant war. I wanted revenge and began to rack my mind immediately of ways to humiliate them.

  And then it hit me. I’d been so completely focused on hating them I didn’t hear Jordan’s response. Perhaps he too, laughed at me. After all, if he wanted to impress Jennifer (I prayed he didn’t), he would naturally join in the taunting. That’s how it went down in Middle School. Boys I was friends with turned on me the second they thought they had a shot with her. I tried to put them out of my head, all of them, telling myself it was for the best. Better to find out his true colors now than make a fool of myself over him.

  A hand reached across my pad and startled me. Jordan picked up my apple and took a bite before sitting next to me once again. I caught him stealing a look at my work, smiling.

  “You’re really good,” he said.

  “Nah.” I turned a little embarrassed, wondering what could have possibly brought him back. “It’s just a silly hobby.” I turned the pages and closed the book so he couldn’t take a closer look and change his mind.

  Jordan snatched my sketch book from me and stood. I sucked in a deep breath, horrified, and jumped up reaching for my pad.

  “You want this?” He asked raising one eyebrow, holding it up just out of my reach.

  “Give it back!” I ordered, rage blazing in my eyes.

  “Come and get it,” he smirked and darted around to the other side of the table.

  I couldn’t fathom Jordan capable of such a treacherous act. Even with his present choice of company, I thought better of him. I believed we were friends, or something close to it. I felt my cheeks get hot from anger and embarrassment. My hands began to tremble.

  I couldn’t help myself, I glanced over at the table he came from, thinking this a prank they put him up to, but they weren’t gloating or smiling. They looked annoyed. I’m certain they hoped he’d throw my things in the trash can, or shred the pad into pieces. Far worse than that would be if he were to riffle through the pages and make fun of how bad the pictures were. I didn’t think I could bear it.

  “What’s this?” Jordan opened to a horse in mid-prance I’d sketched it from a picture I saw in a magazine, and turned it out toward me.

  “I want it now, Jordan!”

  “I bet you do,” he joked. “Did you draw this?”

  I looked behind me. The girls from his table made their way over, all but Jennifer and Christine. Maybe it was the look of admiration I thought I saw in his eyes, or the looks of amazement on the other girls’ faces, but I wanted them all to know. I was proud of my work and I didn’t think they could do any better.

  “Yes.” I stated with more confidence than I actually had, “All of them.”

  “Why didn’t you ever let anyone know you could draw like that?” Christine asked.

  Shocked that she came too, and had something sort of pleasant, at least not mean to say, I shrugged.

  Jordan turned the pages and commented on each of the pictures, allowing the others to see as well. He asked question after question, when did I start? How often do I draw? Then questions came from the others. He sat back with a smile on his face and let me shine.

  He did something I couldn’t. No matter how hard I tried. He drew me into the group, like a normal kid. He introduced me to the girls I didn’t know, and by the end of lunch, I felt like part of their clique.

  I understood it was temporary, that like Cinderella, I had a short window of opportunity to impress myself amongst the masses, especially among the prince. Still it was fun. And a good start.

  Jordan left his safe haven of the cafeteria to walk me to my next class. For an entire period he made me his center of attention. I wondered if he did it to send to Jennifer and Christine a message; he didn’t like shallow, insensitive girls. Or perhaps he really didn’t mind hanging out with someone different from the crowd, someone a little weird even.

  We were outside my classroom, saying goodbye when a large oaf came charging down the hall and collided with me. I lost my balance and felt mortified thinking I was going to stumble into Jordan, taking us both down to the ground. Instead his strong arms caught and steadied me. A warm sensation ran through my body when his hands rested for the briefest of moments on my hips, short-circuiting my brain. I just stood, staring at him.

  “See you later,” he smiled, turned and was gone.

  Six

  The wind whipped at my hair, blowing it in my face. The chill permeated through my coat, into my skin and down to my bones. The type of damp cold you feel for hours no matter how high you crank the heat, or how many layers of clothing you put on. The sky looked overcast and I wondered if I’d make it home before the threatening rain came pelting down.

  I searched through the crowd at the bus stop. I knew he’d been at school with no car. But what he did after walking me to class was a mystery. He could’ve returned to the cafeteria or went home. I found it unlikely he’d go to his last two classes
.

  With my full attention focused on looking for Jordan, I was startled at the tap on my shoulder.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” I recognized the pretty brunette girl from the small group that joined in the morning at the bus stop. “I thought since we see you every day, it might be nice to introduce ourselves.” She smiled. “I’m Lisa.”

  I thought for a minute before responding to her, why now? Why today of all days? I knew the answer: because I was alone. They saw an opportunity and pounced on it. I was no longer invisible to them. Now I was zeroed in on their radar for them to pester and harass.

  “Hi,” I answered none too happy. Looking at Lisa close up, I could see her hair wasn’t a natural brown like I’d originally thought, more like dyed black. “My name’s Stephanie.”

  Lisa smiled and pointed to the three people behind her, “That’s my sister, Lydia. My twin sister,” she said rolling her eyes and sucking her teeth. “But it’s not like you would confuse us. We don’t look very alike right now. George is the one with his arm around her, and that’s Chris. He thinks you’re pretty.”

  She paused, waiting for a response from me. I didn’t know what to say, while flattered, I felt extremely uncomfortable.

  “Diana,” she continued, “she has stage design and is staying after school to finish a project.”

  “Nice to meet you.” I said searching for something else to say. Coming up short and feeling the weight of their stares, I looked down at the cement a moment, self-conscious and embarrassed. The whole scene seemed totally weird. What did they expect me to do?

  “You should come over and say hi. I know Chris is dying to meet you.”

  “I don’t know,” I answered.

  I didn’t mean to be rude, but I didn’t want to meet them. The little I knew of them didn’t entice me. If anything, it made me want to steer clear of their little pack. And if Chris wanted to meet me, why send a messenger? Not wanting to appear completely devoid of social skills, I acknowledged the rest of the group with a small wave.

  “Don’t you go to your locker at the end of the day?” Jordan snuck up behind me.

  I spun around, a giddy sensation stirring inside me. Blinded by him, I forgot Lisa and her friends existed.

  I shook my head. “Not usually.”

  “Now you tell me.” He looked away, rubbing his hands together trying to generate heat to warm them.

  “You didn’t ask.” I smiled, way too happy he’d been looking for me. “So I guess you’re back to slumming it.”

  He smirked at me with a raised eyebrow. “No way in hell I’m getting on the bus with you again.”

  The wave of good feelings I’d been riding came crashing down.

  “What?” I asked offended.

  “Are you kidding? Three years I took the bus and nothing ever happened. I get on with you one time, and it very nearly blows up.”

  My mouth opened, but I couldn’t speak. I felt the blood drain from my face. His words were cutting, and sliced right through my heart. I narrowed my eyes, desperately trying to formulate words, to express a coherent thought.

  I couldn’t.

  He crushed my spirit.

  Thoroughly. Completely.

  “Stephanie?” He asked, not understanding my reaction.

  I turned from him. I needed to get away.

  There was no time to lose. I couldn’t allow him to see the defiant tears, fighting to free themselves from my eyes. He couldn’t know how pulverized I was. Jennifer and Christine must have gotten to him, convinced him I wasn’t worth his time.

  Only through pure determination did I will my feet to move forward. They wanted to remain glued to the sidewalk while my knees buckled and I crumpled to the ground into little more than a shriveling slug. Not in front of him, I told myself.

  “What’s wrong?” I felt his hand on my shoulder and heard what I once would’ve mistaken as concern in his voice.

  I yanked myself away. My brain ordered my feet to go. I moved fast enough to create a small distance to keep him from touching me again. No matter what, I couldn’t let him touch me. That would be a crucial mistake, because I wanted to fall into his arms, and feel him wrap them around me.

  And then I might tell him everything.

  “Stephanie, talk to me!” He shuffled up in front of me and turned so we stood face to face.

  I thought about dodging him and running home. I forced my eyes to meet his, hoping to fake a show of strength.

  “Leave me alone.”

  He shook his head, “No.” He reached for me and pulled me against him in an embrace. “I’m sorry. It was a bad joke that’s all.”

  Replaying his words in my mind made the stinging pain sharper and my need for distance stronger. I pushed him away and walked at a brisk pace. Jordan matched me step for step.

  “I’ll follow you home.” I heard the resolve in his voice. “And I won’t leave until you tell me why you’re so upset.”

  I shook my head bewildered. Wondering if on the most basic level he really did know I ingratiated the people around me with a death curse.

  “How do you know?” I more accused than asked. “I never told anyone.”

  “Stop!” He ordered taking hold of my shoulders, a mask of confusion covered his face. “Know what? You have to help me out here,” he rambled. The words rushed out as his eyebrows kneaded together. His eyes were serious and full of apprehension.

  I swallowed hard and looked away. Debating. If I told him, I’d be vulnerable, defenseless. How could I be sure he wouldn’t tell anyone? If he did, high school would be even harder to endure than middle school. Before they only suspected I was a freak. Did I really want to prove them right?

  Not explaining my erratic behavior would be problematic too. He might slink back to Jennifer, agreeing that I was indeed out of my mind. He may even make it worse, saying I have some sort of personality disorder.

  Maybe even schizophrenia.

  “I just want to go home.” I had to try one last time. I wanted to project strength and confidence, instead, my cracking voice showed how easily he could break me.

  “We’ll walk and talk.”

  Okay. I had to confess something. But not everything. It would sort of be like testing the water in a pool. You walk in slowly, feet first until you get used to the water and are comfortable enough to submerge yourself further. Or if it’s too cold, you just pull out. No harm, no foul. I was counting on the no harm part.

  My teeth chattered.

  I tried to shock him into ending this foolish conversation. Consciously, I wanted him to back off. Subconsciously, I wanted him to fight like hell to drag it out of me.

  “I’m cursed,” I warned. “Bad things happen to people around me.”

  “What?” his eyes softened. A playful spark lit in them. “This is what has you all in a huff?”

  “It’s not funny!” I snapped, and picked up my pace again.

  Seeing I had no humorous intent, Jordan tried to persuade me. “Stephanie, bad things happen to everyone.”

  I smirked, a cynical, sarcastic type of amusement. “Not like this.” I paused searching for the right words. Not finding a practical way to sugarcoat it, I decided to just say it blunt and simply put. “I’m a death magnet.”

  I dug my fingernails into my palms as I watched him deliberate. I didn’t know which way he would go. I could see schizophrenia as a real possibility.

  I watched the different emotions wash over his face as he worked to choose his words.

  Skepticism. He didn’t believe me. Of course who would? His eyes narrowed as he sized me up.

  Confusion. He pressed his lips together. His eyes darted everywhere but on me. He wanted to believe me although he started to understand why people thought I was weird.

  Resolve. His features softened. His eyes were soft and gentle. It looked like he took a breath and stood taller, his shoulders broader.

  “You really believe this?” he asked, doubt heavy in his tone.
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br />   I gave a slight nod. “I know it sounds crazy.” I needed a few seconds to compose myself, before I could get up the courage to look into his eyes again. “But it’s true.”

  “I don’t believe it.” He snickered. “I can see you’re serious, that’s not what I mean.” He hesitated, working to phrase things in a non-offensive manner. “I just don’t believe someone as nice as you, could harm anyone.”

  “I killed my dog.”

  He froze. A look of horror crossed his face.

  “Not on purpose.” I clarified annoyed at his reaction. “I started a fire. Accidentally of course.” I spit out as quick as I could, “I’m not a pyromaniac.”

  “I didn’t think you were,” he said, his voice soothing.

  “Anyhow, Lucky died of smoke inhalation,” I continued.

  “The dog’s name was Lucky?” The eyebrow went up. I could see him fighting to hold back an inappropriate remark and a smile. “How old were you?”

  “Six.” I kept my eyes down afraid to face his reaction.

  Feeling unnerved, I searched for something to calm my anxiety. I picked a few leaves off a nearby shrub and ripped them into shreds.

  “And I’m the reason my gerbil, Frisky, died.”

  “Steph, pets die. It sucks, but it happens to all of us. It’s a part of life.”

  Tears were brimming in my eyes, but not falling. “Not just pets.” I swallowed hard. “My grandmother died holding me.”

  “Grandparents are usually old and not in the best of health,” he tried to rationalize.

  I appreciated his attempts to dismiss my theory. As if it were just that, only academic with no evidence to back it up. I knew better. I could easily prove to him how solid my facts were.

  Not yet.

  Feeling defeated I offered a feeble smile. “She wasn’t old. And she wasn’t sick.”

  “You’re convinced?” His brow furrowed and he looked worried.

  “And so are you,” I couldn’t let him off the hook that easy. After all, his words started the twisting winds of this funnel storm. “What happened on the bus yesterday, it’s because of me.”