The Illusion of Annabella

  Blowing out an exasperated breath, I climb out and limp into the store. The florescent lighting stings at my eyes as I pass the cash register and stroll down the candy aisle. The cashier, a girl who’s around my age, watches me like a hawk, and I avoid eye contact with her, praying to God that I don’t know her.

  Luca strolls up to me as I’m assessing the candy options, my attention bouncing back and forth between M&M’s and Snickers, two of my favorite candies. In fact, I used to eat them together all the time, taking a bite of chocolate and chasing it with a handful of M&Ms.

  “So, what’s your poison?” Luca asks. He has a fountain drink in his hand, and as usual, he’s grinning. “No wait. Never mind. I know what it is.”

  “Are we talking drinks or what? I ask with an arch of my brow.

  “Don’t pretend like you’re a bad girl,” he says. “You’re not, and you knew I was talking about candy.”

  His bluntness makes me lose my footing, and between that and the fact that I’m still a little drunk, I can’t think of a comeback.

  My gaze slides to him. “There’s no way you could know what my favorite candy is.”

  He grins goofily at me. “Yet, somehow, I magically know exactly what you’re about to pick.” He nudges my shoulder. “Guess I’m just super perceptive.”

  I cross my arms and stare him down. “Alight, Mister Perceptive. What was I about to pick?”

  He slurps his soda, staring at me. “What do I win if I get it right?”

  “Anything you want.” I play along since there’s no way he’s going to get it right.

  “Okay, you’re on.” He reaches for my hair and tugs on a strand. “You were about to pick Skittles.” Before I can shake my head, he says, “I’m just kidding.” When I roll my eyes, he adds, “Sorry, but I couldn’t help it. I’m going to be serious now.”

  I widen my eyes and gasp in mock shock. “You know how to do that?”

  “I do actually,” he quips, handing me his soda. He cracks his knuckles then he rubs his hands together as he carefully assesses the candy choices. With a dramatic flair, he lifts his hand and swirls it around in a circle above the candies before scooping up a bag of M&M’s.

  “Dammit.” I don’t mean to say it aloud. “How the heck did you get that right?”

  He holds up a finger. “Just a sec.” He also grabs a Snickers. “I think these were what you wanted, right?” He presents the candies to me in the palms of his hand, like he’s giving me prizes.

  I grunt as I grab them. “Okay. Fess up. How’d you know?”

  A cocky grin spreads across his face as he takes his soda from my hand. “Because I’m a mind reader, obviously.”

  “Well, obviously.” Sarcasm drips from my voice, thick like honey. “No, seriously, how’d you know?”

  He grabs a pack of gum. “No way. I’m not telling you my secret.”

  I lean against the shelf as my leg starts killing me. “That’s not fair.”

  “It’s completely fair. And it’ll drive you just crazy enough that you’ll want to hang out with me to find out how I’m so clever.” He picks up a Twix and turns it over in his hand.

  “I highly doubt you’re that hard up for friends. And if you are, go hang out at the football field during lunchtime. That’s where almost everyone our age hangs out, even during break.”

  “See, that’s why I need you to be my friend.” He snatches up a bag of Skittles, winking at me. “You know all the ins and outs of this town.”

  “They’re not that hard to learn.” I rub my eyes with my free hand as another spurt of dizziness hits me like a bag of bricks. “There’s probably a total of three.”

  He selects a few more snacks. “Yeah, but this place is kind of intimidating.”

  “You lived in L.A. How the hell could Honeyton be intimidating?”

  “Because everyone knows everyone here, which makes it hard to find people wanting new friends.” He glances at the stash of candy in his hand then skims the shelf again.

  I gape at him. “Are you seriously getting more?”

  He gives me an innocent look as he reaches for a bag of chips. “What? I’m a guy. I get hungry.”

  I eyeball all the junk food he’s holding. “Dude, even someone with the worst case of the munchies wouldn’t eat all that crap at once.”

  “Speaking of munchies. Your eyes look super bloodshot right now.”

  “I’m just tired.” I blink a few times to hydrate my eyes.

  He brushes by me and heads for the register. “It’s okay if you are. I’m not judging you. I just thought I’d let you know so you don’t get in trouble when you get home.”

  “I’m not high,” I protest, trailing after him.

  “Okay,” he says simply.

  “I’m being serious.” I feel the need to argue, something that seems to be a growing trait around him. “And how would you even know if I was?”

  He shrugs, growing tense. “It was just a guess.”

  He’s lying, but why? Maybe he gets high? He doesn’t seem like the kind of person that does, though. Then again, six months ago people would’ve said the same thing about me.

  He drops all the candy on the counter then sets his soda down, smiling at the cashier when she gapes at his teeth-rotting collection of sugar. “Half of it’s hers,” he says, nodding his head at me, shooting me a devious grin.

  I scoot enough candy to hold me over until Halloween toward the register. “No. It’s all his. I’m not taking credit for your crazy-ass sugar eating habits.”

  He steals the candy from my hand and adds it to the pile. “Now it is.”

  “I can pay for my own,” I reach to snatch my candy back.

  He swats my hand away. “No way. You’re not paying on our first date.”

  “Aw, it’s your first date.” Cashier Girl swoons with a flutter of her eyelashes and a clasp of her hands.

  “It’s not a date,” I say, glaring at Luca.

  “Ignore her,” he tells Cashier Girl as he retrieves his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. “Anna has this thing with calling the best night of her life a date.”

  He’s gotten way too comfortable, winking at me, teasing me, calling me Anna. ”You know my name’s Annabella, right?”

  “Yeah, but you prefer Anna more,” he says. “Even if you won’t admit it.”

  I scrunch my nose up at him and he smirks.

  “Wait . . . Annabella Baker? Oh, my God.” Cashier Girl stares at me as if I’ve suddenly sprouted a third eye in the center of my forehead. “Jesus, I hardly recognized you. You look so . . . different.”

  It takes me a second to figure out who she is. Charlotte Levingson, Cece’s cousin.

  “That’s an interesting choice of hair color,” she says when I don’t utter a word.

  I touch a strand of my hair. “It’s just purple.”

  “Yeah, but you don’t see a lot of purple hair around here.” She begins ringing up the candy bars. “Not that it’s a bad thing or anything. It’s just a little out of the norm.” The register beeps as she scans the bar codes.

  “Which is why I did it,” I lie, letting my hair go.

  “That’s cool.” She smacks her gum as she discretely checks Luca out.

  Luca has his attention fixed on me and doesn’t seem to notice her. “That’s why you did it? Wow, I’m kind of disappointed.”

  “Why? Isn’t that why everyone does crazy things like dye their hair and pierce their body—to stand out?” I ask, propping my elbow on the countertop, staring back at him.

  He shakes his head. “When I got my tattoo, I got it to represent something major that happened in my life.”

  My brows shoot up in surprise. “You have a tattoo?”

  “It’s not that big a deal. My mom and dad took me to get it done one day for . . . certain reasons,” he explains cryptically as he rolls up his sleeve, showing a tattoo on his forearm.

  It’s small, about the size of a quarter, with a few horizontal lines that connect to form
the bottom of a heart.

  “Wow, that’s so awesome.” Charlotte grazes her finger across his arm. “What does it mean?”

  “Strength,” he replies, tugging his sleeve down.

  “That’s really cool. I’m thinking about getting a tattoo soon.” She scans the last item and presses the tally button. “Probably when I head to college here in a couple of months so my parents can’t get all pissy at me when I do it.”

  He smiles at her as he hands her a twenty. “Just make sure you get something that means something to you, or at least something that you won’t hate in a couple of years.”

  They chat a little bit more about tattoos while I peel open the Snickers and munch on it.

  As Charlotte gives Luca his change, she asks, “So, you’re new around here, right? I’m pretty sure I haven’t seen you around.”

  Luca nods as he puts away his wallet. “I just moved here a week ago.”

  “Cool. There’s a bonfire down at the docks this Friday. You should come.” She glances at me. “You should come, too. Cece should be there.”

  I stuff my mouth full of chocolate. “I already have plans, but thanks.” There’s no way I’m going someplace where I’ll be surrounded by stares and ridicule. Besides, after tonight, I’m not that eager to go to another party.

  But then what the hell am I going to do with myself?

  “Well, think about it,” she says. “I know she’s been worried about you ever since your parents died. It really sucks what happened to them. They were such good people—”

  I walk away before she can finish, push out the door, and step out under the stars. The crisp air burns my dry throat and reminds me that I forgot to get a drink. But I’m not about to go back inside to get one.

  I wrap my arms around myself as my body begins to shiver. I try to convince myself it’s from the cold, but I know that’s not the reason. Charlotte struck a nerve, reminded me of their deaths, that stupid fucking day that ripped by life out from underneath me. Usually I can choke down what I feel, but after such an emotional night, I’m struggling.

  The door dings as it swings open, and Luca steps out. “Are you okay?”

  I stare at the vacant street in front of me. “Yep, perfect. I forgot to get a drink, though.”

  He moves up beside me and offers me his soda. “Drink up.”

  I eye the cup then him. “You really want me to drink from yours?”

  “I promise I don’t have cooties,” he says, urging me to take the soda.

  I take a few long gulps, washing down the bitter taste in my mouth before I hand it back to him. We get into the car without saying anything else, which I’m super thankful for. Although, he’s grinning idiotically about something.

  “What’re you smiling about?” I ask as he slides the key in the ignition.

  “It’s nothing.” His grin widens as he backs out of the parking space. “I just find you amusing. That’s all.” He twists a knob on the stereo, surfing for a station, still amused by something.

  “But I didn’t do anything.”

  “That’s not true.” Clearly he thinks I’m entertaining, and it’s starting to drive me crazy that he won’t share why.

  After he selects the same station he started out on, he places his hands back on the steering wheel and drums his fingers to the beat of the song. The sleeve of his shirt has ridden up and the bottom of his tattoo peeks out.

  “You don’t seem like someone who would have a tattoo,” I say as I tear open the bag of M&Ms.

  “That doesn’t really seem like a fair statement,” he replies, giving me a curious sidelong glance. “That’d be like me saying that you seem like the kind of person who should have a tattoo.”

  “Maybe I do have one.”

  “Do you?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  He smiles, but it’s a mask with sadness hidden behind it. I want to ask him why he looks sad, but since he didn’t push me to talk at the gas station, I return the favor to him and remain quiet.

  About halfway home, though, all that chocolate suddenly wants to come back up.

  “Shit. Pull over,” I sputter, covering my mouth to fight back the vomit.

  Luca slams on the brakes, and I fall out of the car before it even comes to a complete stop. When I land on my hands and knees, the gravel scrapes at my skin through my clothes. I puke my guts out on the side of the road. My eyes water and my stomach feels like its tearing open with each gag. Somewhere in the midst of my gagging and moaning, Luca crouches down beside me and holds my hair out of my face. I want to tell him to go away, that he shouldn’t be have to witness what I deserve, but I’m too exhausted to get the words out.

  By the time I’ve emptied my stomach, my legs are too weak to budge. I lie down in the dirt, fully prepared to go to sleep.

  “No, don’t go to sleep. You need to get up.” Luca slips his hands under my arms.

  “I’m fine. Just go home,” I mutter, resting my cheek against the rocks.

  Ignoring me, he pulls me to my feet and steadies me as I sway. “Don’t be silly. I’m not leaving you on the side of the road.” He guides me to the car with his hand around my back, supporting most of my wait.

  I bury my face into his chest, murmuring. “You smell so good. So much better than I do.”

  He chuckles, his chest vibrating as he smoothes his hand over the back of my head. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”

  He practically has to lift me in the seat, and instead of protesting like I usually do when someone helps me, I let him and feel the smallest bit of gratitude when he draws the seatbelt over my shoulder and buckles me in.

  He gets into the car and I focus on the stars in the sky to keep my stomach under control. Before I know it, we’re pulling up in his driveway. The lights are on upstairs in his house, but my home is dark. My bet is that my family is out looking for me and that all the missed calls and texts I have are from Loki trying to track me down.

  “Thanks for the ride.” I unfasten my seatbelt. And holding my hair back while I hurled.

  He offers me a soft, but concerned smile. “Anytime.”

  Holding onto the door, I gradually lower my feet to the ground.

  “Anna, I can help you out,” he says, rushing to get out.

  “I’m good. I swear, I’m feeling a ton better.” As I put weight onto my legs, the muscles clench up. One side of my jeans feels super tight, probably from inflammation, which means not only will I have to spend the next few days lying around with my leg elevated, but Loki’s going to be riding my case even more about going to physical therapy.

  He meets me around the side of the car. “You want me to walk you to the door.”

  “Luca, it’s right next door. I swear I’m fine now.”

  He peers warily at my dark house. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay being alone?”

  “Positive.” I move around him, wanting nothing more than to be in my bed. Maybe sleep will help me forget this night ever happened.

  “Hey, Anna,” Luca says as I limp down the driveway.

  I pause at the fence line, tensing. After everything that happened tonight, and everything I told him, I have no idea what he’s about to say and that makes me uneasy.

  “I was thinking, as a favor for picking you up tonight and winning our little candy bet, you could show me around town.” His voice is surprisingly light, and if I wasn’t already feeling grateful toward him, I definitely would be now. “It sucks moving here during break. I’ve seriously spent the last week binging on Xbox and episodes of Ridiculousness. It’s starting to drive me crazy.”

  “What about Charlotte?” I say without looking at him. “I’m sure she’d be happy to show you around.”

  “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were jealous.”

  “Don’t be weird. I don’t even know you well enough to be jealous.” Am I, though? It’s hard to tell anymore what I am or aren’t.

  “Yeah, but if you hang out with me, that’ll change. And mayb
e we can get past this awkward friends phase,” he teases.

  I resist a smile. “Is that what we are?”

  “Yeah, and considering I just saw you puke your guts out on the side of the road, I think our friends status might have been bumped up to the sharing-embarrassing-moments phase.”