“Am I done yet?” I called from the back of the pantry.
Grandma had forced me to spend the rest of the afternoon taking inventory of the herbs, dried seaweed, and other strange and wonderful goodies she kept stored in the bottom, dusty section of the kitchen pantry.
“Name five herbs we store,” she demanded. “You'll need to learn them all before the year is up.”
I could smell my supper cooking on the stove—spaghetti Bolognese. The spice was making my mouth water. “Um, buckbean... awlwort... water smartweed... watershield and... uh, perennial kelp.”
“Good enough. Next time I'll expect you to know them without reading the labels. I’ll be leaving for the welcoming dinner shortly. I expect you to spend your free time wisely.”
Next time? I cringed, mentally making a list of excuses I could use to get out of dusting the pantry again. I stood, dusted off my knees, and stretched.
I headed for my room, memories of my late night rendezvous with Caesar popping to mind. Since I'd woken up, all I'd seen were his pale grey eyes, chiselled cheekbones, and defined muscles. But I was also thinking about how nice he'd been. How he'd wanted to talk to me and listen. I was also thinking of him telling me I was beautiful.
He thought I was a jewel worth waiting for; as cheesy as the words were, they made me smile.
Maybe life on this island wasn’t going to be as bad as I thought it was. Again, the story Colleen had told me came back to mind and I wondered if Caesar was really a good guy. Was he the kind you could rely on to never forget Valentine’s and to always listen? Caesar seemed sincere when I talked to him last night, but did that mean I could trust him?
Sighing, I made my way to the desk and dug out the blank journal Mom had handed me the day I’d left Surrey. It was a deep purple book—the colour of squashed blackberries. I took it and sat on my bed with my legs crossed, my blanket pulled up around my shoulders. I’d never had a journal before. I didn’t know if I wanted to start keeping one, but at this moment I didn’t have many other options. Marnie couldn’t know anything about my new life. Colleen hated the pirates and wouldn’t even want to listen to me talk about Caesar. And Caesar… he was what I wanted to talk about. I held the book in my hands and looked out the window. I waited until I finally found some words, and then I opened the journal and wrote.
I don't know who I am.
I sat and stared at the words. I thought of Caesar and our rendezvous last night and I added a few more.
I used to be a good daughter. I used to have a dad that I loved. I used to have two parents that I saw every morning before I left for school. Now I’m this girl with red hair and magical powers and feelings that I don’t know what to do with. I feel like I’m going to burst. But then, when I think about losing Dad, about losing my old life, I think I have already burst. But now there’s Caesar. He makes me feel the best I’ve felt since the accident. But Colleen says I can’t trust him. What am I supposed to do?
Grandma yelled up the stairs that my dinner was on the table. I heard hear leave as I put my journal away. I didn’t have an answer to my question, but just writing it down had helped me feel a little bit better. A question was a place to start. Tomorrow morning was the beginning of a new year—a new me. Everything would be different. I could only hope it would be tolerable.