The Understorey, Book One of The Leaving Series

  “Thank you sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’ll be cheering, no pun intended, for you from our kitchen table at home. Old reliable local channel nineteen.”

  “The kitchen table?” I asked, puzzled.

  “Yeah,” she laughed, “it’s the only room in the house with a television.”

  “Oh my gosh, your mom is hilarious!”

  “I know. Honestly, she seems really harsh around the edges but deep down she is extremely kind and by far is one of the most intelligent women I know.”

  That took me utterly by surprise.

  “I didn’t know that Jules. I really look forward to getting to know her better then. I assumed that you were nothing like her. I guess I assumed wrong. The way you describe her makes me think you’re a lot like her.”

  “Thank you Elliott. I take that as one of the highest compliments.”

  I was surprised by the way Jules viewed her mother. I knew for sure right then, I truly should never judge a book by its cover.

  I pulled into Lot B and the parking lot was packed.

  “You ready for this?” I asked.

  “Ready Freddy. Eventually, they’ll all find out that their starting quarterback’s miss is the last one they would have expected, but that’s okay with me because, the truth of the matter is, I have never felt happier than I do when my hand rests inside yours. I’m happy to be myself and I make no excuses.......but, I’m pretty sure you already knew that about me.”

  “I did,” I said, wrapping my hand over hers. I turned to face her, “It’s what makes you stronger than every girl in this school Jules. You’re an example of examples babe. You pioneer the self esteem cause in this little high school. Who knows how many girls look at you and are influenced. When their minds are ready, whether it will be now or later in life, they’ll be stronger because of your exuberance for life and independence from peer pressure. You’re amazing Jules.”

  “I could kiss you Elliott Gray,” she admitted, a bit starry eyed.

  “What’s stopping you?”

  Her sarcastic stare burrowed through me, “Hypocrisy. Can’t give into the pressures of society, remember? You’re just going to have to wait.”

  “Jules!”

  I got out, collected myself as best I could and coolly strolled to her side of the truck and opened her door for her. By the time the handle had clicked, at least a hundred eyes were staring in our direction and those hundred eyes were grabbing the attention of a hundred more. Great, so much for discrete, I thought. We should have come earlier, less nerve racking.

  I took her hand and helped her out of the truck. I grabbed our bags, never breaking my grip on Jules’ hand and began to walk toward the double doors. This feeling that emanated through me from her forced me to stop about a hundred feet from the doors. I turned to face Jules. I couldn’t take another step without looking into her eyes. I was too hungry for her gaze. She looked at me strangely when I brushed her hair over her shoulders and trailed my finger down her jaw line.

  I placed my arm around Jules’ shoulder to send a clear message to those wondering what was going on between us and started walking once more, a message clear enough that people would accept it immediately and move on. Jules was mine, mine for me to care for, always. And I was hers, for definitely all the same reasons, I hoped.

  “What was that all about Casanova?”

  “Courage. Needed courage,” I lied.

  I let her warmth rush over me and let the beat of my own heart resonate with the extra life she gave to me. It touched the tips of my toes and fingers and swirled through my head. It was a peculiar feeling, something I hadn’t felt on that first day, something new. I was curious to know where it had come from and why. I knew it wasn’t from our shared supernatural current, though it definitely was supernatural, just not associated with our unique gifts. It was something different, something I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  We were a pretty visible distraction, the pair of us. Jules looked like a Barbie doll next to me. Well, a seriously original and unique Barbie doll. Okay, scratch that. The only thing Barbie doll-like about Jules was her insanely long legs and crazy long hair, everything else was Jules’. Her rocker-Victorian style was exclusively hers.

  Everyone looking at Jules gave me the feeling that many, many girls wanted to copy her but were too chicken to do so. I also knew every guy around me was probably wondering how the heck I got her. It was the first time I was happy to be six foot four. It was sort of nice to be slightly feared for my size. I towered over Jules, despite the fact that she was also tall, I guessed about five foot eight. We were both some of the tallest in our class and it just added an extra red circle to the target we were both already carrying.

  Jules was also breathtakingly beautiful. I looked like a lumberjack in comparison. Her skin was flawless and pale as porcelain. I didn’t have time to shave that morning and was looking pretty scruffy. Jules wore these jeans that made her legs look like they went for miles. I wore a faded pair of jeans that I had put in the dryer the night before and forgot about so they were wrinkled as heck.

  It was a bit chilly that morning so Jules wore an olive green, very feminine light knit beret over her freshly washed curled hair. I wore a wool cap from ten years ago over hair that should have been cut two months before. My hair reached just below my chin now and the cap kept it out of my eyes. Jules wore shin length brown leather moccasins over her jeans and I wore boots that were so heavy even a biker wouldn’t wear them.

  Jules wore a thin, dark red floor length sweater jacket over a white tank. I wore a wrinkled button up sweater over an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt that used to belong to my dad in the seventies. Plus, my contacts were bothering me that morning so I had to wear my black rimmed ‘Buddy Holly’ glasses. We were night and day. I was night and she was day. She was amazing and I was a massive mess. Suddenly, I felt very self-conscious.

  “Stop stressing babe. You look hot,” she said, reading the way I felt through our touch.

  “Thank you sweetheart, but I’m no fool. I know what I look like.”

  “You’re really that clueless? Elliott, every girl here falls over for your casual sexiness. You don’t even try and yet you possess this Johhny Depp ‘I’m a mess yet drool worthy hotness. You kinda’ suck,” she giggled, which made me remove my cap and run my fingers through my hair out of nervousness. “And if you run your fingers through that hair of yours one more time, I think I’m going to hit the wall.” She exhaled sharply then looked at me. “I know you’re stressing about your glasses too because you keep messing with them but your geek magnetism just makes you all the more appealing, not to mention the eyes underneath the glasses! Your eyes are like the brightest blue I’ve ever seen in my life. I swear you could hypnotize with those eyes.”

  “This is a really uncomfortable subject for me. No more please. Let’s change it or I’ll require a bonfire of the vanities or something.”

  “No way, I love my curling iron and makeup.”

  I laughed.

  “I meant for me doofus. You’re the least vain person I know.”

  “Uh, oh,” she said. “Here comes Jesse.”

  I could feel her stomach tighten in anxiety through our shared touch when he approached. I squeezed her hand to relieve some of the tension.

  “Hey Jesse,” I said casually.

  “Hey,” he said with a nod but as he walked by he scoffed a condescending snort.

  What a jerk.

  “I know,” Jules said in response.

  “You felt that?” I asked, totally forgetting Jesse Thomas.

  “Yeah, I’m starting to be able to hone specific feelings to specific thoughts now. It’s kind of awesome.”

  “I’ll say.”

  We reached Jules’ door to Mrs. Hill’s art class and stood just beside it for a few minutes talking. Jules had her back to the wall, her head resting against the tile and I leaned my shoulder on the bit of wall right next to her and folded my arms into each other. I stared at her for a
moment. Her eyes were the most beautiful green I’d ever seen. She stared back. Silence was not uncomfortable for Jules and I. We spoke volumes in that silence.

  “Teach me how to hone down specific feelings Jules,” I said, smiling from our eye contact.

  “Okay.”

  I reached my hand for her face but she shooed it away.

  “Let me be the one to touch. I think you’ll be able to concentrate better on what I’m feeling.”

  She repositioned herself and turned her body towards me leaving a shoulder to rest against the tile wall. She raised her hand and placed it around my throat.

  “There are lots of nerve endings in the neck. I think that would be a good place for us to practice,” she said softly. “Okay, I’m going to think of specific things that I know will trigger certain responses in me but I’ll tell you each thing I’m feeling as it comes to me. That way, you can start to associate. Ready?”

  “‘kay.”

  “Okay, I’m staring at your lips and that makes me feel a need to kiss you.”

  I had an overwhelming want to press my lips to hers and involuntarily leaned forward but she backed away.

  “No, no. Try not to share the feeling.” She laughed. “I know it’s hard but just try to figure out the way it tastes and feels first. Here, let me try an easier one.”

  She placed her hand back onto my throat and closed her eyes.

  “Okay, I’m thinking about my little art studio at the house and that makes me feel....”

  “Happy,” I said. “You’re feeling very happy and inspired.”

  “Right! What did it taste like?

  “Like chocolate and wine?”

  We both laughed.

  “Is that what it tastes like to you?” I asked.

  “No, your happiness tastes like pumpkin pie.” She smiled.

  “This is so weird. I don’t even know how I know that it was happiness. I went with my instincts.”

  “Okay, let’s try another.”

  Just then Taylor Williams, who shared first period with Jules, walked past us with a look of disgust on her face before going into the classroom.

  “You’re feeling smug........with a twinge of guilt?” I said, almost laughing.

  Jules let her hand drop to her side and her cheeks burned a bright red.

  “That was embarrassing.”

  “Oh Jules, don’t be silly. It was a gut reaction and you immediately corrected yourself. I felt it. Now, let’s do another.”

  I picked up her hand and placed it back around my throat.

  “I like this game,” I said.

  She smiled, stared at me for a moment, then let her hand slide to the back of my neck.

  “Okay, now I’m thinking....”

  She pulled her hand away at lightning speed.

  “Wait,” I said, confused. “What was that?”

  She turned her head away and clenched her hands into fists. I pushed her back into the tiled wall and pinned both of my arms beside her to keep her from fleeing.

  “You know,” she said, breathing deeply, “I think that’s enough for one day. You’ve been an excellent student. The bell is about to ring. See you next period.”

  She ducked underneath my arm, too quick to catch. I waved at her inside the classroom and went to History with Coach Miles. It was a game day and he usually just played a movie. I loved that because it was going to give me time to think about the emotion Jules was trying to hide from me. I was still racking my brain trying to figure it out when I sat at my desk next to Jesse.

  “Hey,” I said, distracted.

  “Hey,” he said sarcastically. “Care to explain why your arm was around Julia Jacobs back there in the hallway?”

  “Huh?”

  He crossed his arms smugly around his torso.

  “Please tell me she’s nothing more than a tiny distraction right now, a bug to get out of your system.”

  “What? Why would you say that? Do I look like the ‘tiny distraction’ type to you? Where in my past behavior have I ever given you reason to think that about me?”

  “I don’t know Gray. I guess I’m just hoping is all. You have no idea what you’re doing do you? I mean, jeez Gray! She’s freakin’ Julia Jacobs. She should be a stepping stone on your way to Taylor Williams.”

  My blood was beginning to boil.

  “Jesse, I find it so hilarious that you’re suddenly so interested in my dating. It’s also fascinating that you are equally as interested in who I date. Your opinions are comical because, last time I checked, you aren’t even this picky for yourself. Why are you so hell bent on my dating Taylor Williams anyway? If you like her so much why don’t you date her?:”

  “She’s too yippy for me,” he amended and waved me off.

  “Oh, and I enjoy yippy so much, right? Give me a break. I’ve never said a word about the girls you date and I’d appreciate the same courtesy dude.”

  “Fine,” he said through clenched teeth. “You’ll see though. It won’t last.”

  “Yeah, yeah. So, are you excited about the game tonight?” I asked, desperate to change the subject.

  The fuming seemed to subside and he leaned back in his desk.

  “Yeah, coach said he won’t be putting Farley in after all. Can you believe it? Doc says his knee doesn’t look one hundred percent. Farley said he could play with no problem but coach doesn’t want to risk it the first game.”

  Whew, I thought, barely listening. So annoying. Too bad he’s so loyal.

  Coach started the movie and Jesse finally shut his blubber mouth. I wrapped my ankles around the legs of my desk and tipped my chair back. I wrapped my fingers around the back of my head and stared at the ceiling, just thinking. What in the world was that? She was so quick to pull away. Let’s see. I definitely felt distraction. Then she slid her hand to the back of my neck. That was awesome. Must have her do that again. It was a warm feeling that turned blazing hot. Tasted like what I would think my mom’s Egyptian Cotton candle would taste like. If I didn’t know any better I..........I let my chair fall hard back to the ground in sudden realization. I swallowed hard. She loves me. She’s in love with me. I haven’t even taken her on a proper date yet! Haven’t even kissed her! Yet, she loves me!

  My breath trapped in my throat and I almost began to hyperventilate. I planted my hands on the desk in front of me to anchor myself from falling over from the sheer shock of it. Shock. Shock and happiness? Why doesn’t this scare me? Shouldn’t I feel like running the opposite direction from her or something? I mean, yeah, so I’ve known her my whole life and all but do I really know know her? I thought about it for a moment. Yes, I do.

  She’s the Julia Jacobs who forced me to suffer my mother’s wrath by arriving late to dinner one summer night of our fifth grade year because I had to help her rescue the feral kittens underneath Mr. Westburg’s wood porch. She’s the Julia Jacobs who helped me fix the flat in my bike’s tire so I wouldn’t get in trouble for riding near the construction site I was forbidden to go near off Main. She’s the Julia Jacobs who used to sing ‘American Pie’ at the top of her lungs with me at the pool in seventh grade and made me laugh so hard grape soda went up my nose. She’s the Julia Jacobs who would weave fantastic tales of adventure over a gleaming flashlight when we used to camp by the creek.

  That girl was colorfully, gorgeously, brilliantly, and astonishingly in love with me. I felt it. That’s exactly what it was. The taste of it was remarkably similar to greatness. No, it beat greatness, to a bloody pulp. My heart inflated like a balloon, doubling, tripling in size with each beat when she revealed it to me, like a massive kick drum. Thump, thump, thump. It sang to me and was the sweetest melody that had ever touched my ears. It was beyond words, impossible to put into words. It was something that needed to be touched, heard, smelled, tasted to grasp its full meaning and I knew. I knew that it was mine only. It was a flavor only I could taste and smell, a feeling only my fingers could touch, and a song only I was meant to hear.

  Un
expectedly, a choir of angels sounded. It dawned on me. It was a feeling I sincerely shared. She probably knew it too. I know she must have felt it as well. Now that I knew what the love she held for me tasted like it was suddenly easy to recognize my own distinct flavor I had for her and boy was it ever the dominant current. I had sent it streaming through my fingers to hers every single time I’d touched her. She must have gotten a private kick out of my revealing more than I had intended. I was a fool, an unbelievably happy fool.

  “Hey Jules,” I said calmly, when I finally sat next to her in English.

  I couldn’t let her touch me or look into my eyes or I’d give it away. I suppressed the feeling as much as possible so she couldn’t read any radiations of it either.

  “Hi darlin’.”

  She tried to act as casual as possible but even without our gift I could see through her cool facade.

  “Hey Jules?” I said seriously, turning my body toward hers, resting my elbows on the desk and chair.

  “Yes Elliott?” She said, her head buried in ‘Nineteen Eighty-Four’.

  “I think I figured it out,” I said, and paused for a really long time, letting her sweat it out.

  She kept her nose buried but her eyes began to look for mine. She was worried.

  “Hmm?” Her voice cracked, her eyes resettling on the wrong page.

  “I said, I think I figured out the theme I am going to write about for Mrs. Kitt’s book report due next month.”

  “Oh,” she swallowed hard. “I think I’ve got a theme too. What are you going to write about?”

  “Oh no. I can’t say. I wouldn’t feel right showing it to you. It’s too soon to reveal such intimate things to one another. Don’t you think?”

  “Okay?” She said, furrowing her eyebrows. “You don’t have to. I guess.”

  She raised her beautiful nose from George Orwell and turned her body toward mine.

  “Why are you acting so weird?” She asked, suspicious.

  Mrs. Kitt saved me from revealing too much when she began class.

  As we walked to lunch, I grabbed Jules’ hand and revealed a little secret of my own but didn’t let on that I knew that she knew.