She knew that her ability to fulfill her end of the bargain with Marina was the one thing that would either let her stay in the life she was willingly thrust into or thrust right back into her adult life, which she silently remembered had been recently full of events that were stressful, to say the least. She didn’t want to let Marina down, and she obviously didn’t want Marina to suffer in any way. She didn’t want the bookstore that she had called home for all those years to be suddenly gone, and with its disappearance, a piece of her own soul moving away. But no matter how many hours she put into thinking of the clear actions she had to take to make her new life worthy and meet the expectations that Marina so ambiguously laid upon her, she felt resentment grown within her. Had she been set up to fail? How could she live up to and deliver her end of a deal that was so enigmatic that she sometimes had a hard time even remembering what was being asked of her?
Marina had given her a once in a lifetime opportunity, there was no way she could refute that. She was thankful, however, a bit angered that she was expected to deliver something that she had no clue what the tangible result was. Her plan of action was comprised of the one thing she was sure of, and that was trusting her instinct and letting her heart guide her. If she did that, she knew that couldn’t be at fault for failing anyone, and least of all, failing herself.
Chapter 27
She did not care much about the apparent abrupt weather changes that comprised her time in Martin’s Falls. Often switching to a pair of shorts from jeans midday was becoming a normal practice. It was a major understatement hat she and Claire did not see eye to an eye on a lot of things. In fact, they didn’t even seem to have that much in common, other than the school they attended and the friends they had. Otherwise, it was like the two girls couldn’t be any more different. She had tried to find some common ground amongst the two girls to grow and nurture their lengthy friendship, but for every effort she made, there just wasn’t any grounding there. And there was surely no way that Claire was going to give her anything to work with.
She had chided herself for being overly judgmental and perhaps being too hard on her temperamental and unpleasant friend. She even often found herself trying to mentally make a list of things that she could build upon or flesh out to strengthen the relations between them, but every interaction she had with Claire, regardless of how minor or major, was always unpleasant, to put it mildly. Even post-slap. She couldn’t stop thinking about if she had made a mistake in relatively ending that friendship.
With the most recent argument with Claire a few days in the past, she couldn’t shake the feeling that this one was going to take more than a casual catch up or text message conversation to soften, if she decided in fact, to resolve their differences. Claire was mad. She knew that she herself was really upset about Claire’s recent chain of explosions and outbursts, regardless if she was pregnant or not.
She made every attempt to thrust herself into Prom Committee and growing a friendship with Bennett. Unlike with Claire, her and Bennett had so much in common, from their penchant for early 90’s dance music (Bennett had just discovered Technotronic, She had remembered buying the album herself in the local mall), to romantic comedies. She sometimes found herself finding it a bit odd at how much she actually did have in common with her rather new friend, but she went with it anyhow.
On that particular afternoon, she was driving back from the most recent prom committee meeting with Chrissy Barr, Bennett, and the rest of the girls at their local Starbucks. The coffee shop had become their unofficial meeting location for their committee meetings, and the baristas began to get to remember what orders the girls always made, which were often ludicrous concoctions of coffees and creams with levels of sugar that sometimes made her feel like her head was going to pop off at times.
“So, the prom is just a week away, and I’m happy to say I just got off the phone with Lex from Sex Lex Dj’s,” Chrissy began, taking a quick sip from the plastic cup in front of her that matched the size of her head. “And we booked him!”
The girls around the table began to clap and cheer, and Darcy and Bennett found themselves participating in the teen girl frenzy. Sex Lex was the hottest DJ for miles around, and considering the relative seclusion of Martin’s Falls, getting a DJ that was from the capital city was a big deal.
After the squealing had died down, Chrissy continued. “He’s charging us exactly what we thought he would, which is both good and bad. I mean, we got LEX, for God’s sake, but that also means we have to cut something to make up for the added cost.”
How sensible, Darcy thought.
“Any thoughts of what to cut? I was thinking of maybe downsizing the flower arrangements that we were planning on putting on each of the tables?” Chrissy said, looking around at each of the girls, about 10 in all.
Temporary silence surrounded the table. The girls had all had serious difficulty in whittling down the costs that would accompany the prom, and right when they thought they just couldn’t cut anything more, they found out the news of Lex Sex’s costs.
“I guess we can cut the flower arrangements, but that means the tables are pretty much going to be the plates, some cutlery and the tablecloth”, a girl named Mary spoke up. Darcy couldn’t remember seeing her before, but was sure she wasn’t new.
“Well, then what’s your idea?” Chrissy nastily said, starting at Mary, who quietly shrunk against the wall behind her until Darcy thought that the girl was going to disappear.
“I think we might have to make the Prom King and Queen’s tiara’s a bit lower grade,” she spoke up. It was like the wind was knocked out of Chrissy’s frame, and for a split second, it looked like she was going to pass out in shock for her even bringing up such a crazy thought.
“You have got to be kidding, Platt,” Chrissy finally said, taking a sip from the plastic cup before her and dabbing her forehead with a napkin. She really, really wanted to do a major eye roll but she decided to hold off.
“Nope, I’m totally not,” she quickly replied. “There’s not really a need to have the Prom Queen and King to get something that is Swarovski encrusted. The tiaras will be just as effective with something cheaper.”
“No! No! No!” Christy dramatically yelled. The girls around the table moved their eyes from girl to girl, as though watching a tennis game. “The tiara is, like, super important for the prom queen. It’s something she’s going to have for the rest of her life and look back on and smile about.”
“So you’d rather have everyone sit at tables for a few hours eating dinner without any decorative vases and flowers just so one girl can get something at the end of the night? Seems a bit unfair to me,” she replied. Feeling that she made her case and that the other girls would support her, she took a swig of her iced tea.
“Just because you have no chance of becoming Prom Queen doesn’t mean the winner should suffer,” Chrissy spat back, rather venomously at that. The girls that formed the committee began to look visually uncomfortable, sipping and quietness abound.
“Chrissy, all I’m saying is that Mary’s right, the flowers are the only feasible thing that could be cut because of Lex, and we all just talked about it last week.”
“Fine, Darcy. Fine. Let’s take a vote on it, shall we? Let’s see if these other sane girls think that taking away the little token of the celebration of a perfect teenaged existence is the right thing to do,” Chrissy replied, her eyes squinting as though having just trapped an animal.
“Ok girls,” Chrissy went on. “Hands up if you think making an ugly tiara is the way to go instead of cutting the flowers.”
For a split second, there was no activity around the table. She held up her own hand to start, and was relieved to see Bennett raise hers a moment later. Chrissy looked at her meanly as though to say “Hah! Told you so,” until all of the other girls began to raise their hands, led by Mary.
She thought Chrissy was going to explode upon seeing the raised hands that surrounded the table. Her face turned red an
d splotchy, and weird red marks began to color her neck. Understanding that she was clearly outnumbered, all she could barely do was make a humph sound and the meeting went on.
About half an hour later, Bennett and Claire were walking in the parking lot to their respective cars which were parking right beside one another. They felt exhausted at the wrath of Chrissy Barr, but they had won. It was clearly the only real option to explore, and in the end, the prom committee agreed.
“I feel like I need a nap,” Bennett said as they neared the cars. “Do you think Chrissy is exhausted, like all of the time, because of the way she acts? I mean, it must take a lot of energy to be so high-strung and high pitched all of the time.”
Darcy smiled and used her fob to unlock her car. “I think she might just not know how to be otherwise. It’s probably normal to her to see things so black and white.”
“That’s a wise answer, Darcy,” Bennett smiled, unlocking her own car. A cold wind suddenly blew at both girls, their hair moving every direction. “What the…”
“I will call you later. I’m too cold!” she laughed and got in the car. She had been wearing just a t-shirt as it had been rather warm when she left the house just a little while earlier, but with the wind that had just blown against her; she wished she had brought a cardigan or sweater with her.
She waved to Bennett as she reversed out of the spot and sped away. The car was also really cold, and she even thought to turn up the heat to high to warm up the small space. However, it felt like it was getting colder instead of warmer.
She groaned out loud and put on her seatbelt and then suddenly remembered that Mason had given her a scarf a little while ago before another one of her Prom Committee meetings. She reached into the back seat for her brother’s wise provision and grabbed the heavy scarf that sat in the seat right behind her.
She quickly unfolded it and wrapped it around her shoulders and instantly felt the warmth. The scarf was wool, and she felt the relief instantly. She looked quickly in the rear view mirror to adjust the scarf and began to back out of her spot, when suddenly she nearly crashed into the concrete wall right beside her.
The scarf that was bringing her such warmth was red. Bloody red. So red that she instantly remembered the diary entry she had found written by the old Darcy. Claire had mentioned in that entry that she was missing her red scarf. Surely there were many red scarf’s floating around, but why would Mason have a red scarf that was so obviously made for a woman, with its ruffles and label which was from a popular woman’s clothing store.
Her heart beat quickened, making the connection. Why did Mason have Claire’s scarf? It then abruptly all fell into place. The journal entry. The uncomfortable interactions between Mason and Claire. Mason’s always asking about her friend. Mason WAS who Claire was cheating on Luke with. And based on what Luke had confided to her, the fat her of her unborn baby.
She stopped the car because she thought she was going to be sick. And as she suspected, sick was what she became.
Chapter 28
“Well, I never thought she was really into him to begin with,” Bennett squealed beside Darcy on the latter’s living room sofa. Both girls were knee deep in a bout of giggles after having watched a marathon of one of those Housewives of Wherever shows. This week’s cliffhanger included one of the housewives’ leaving her plaything after a dramatic confrontation in a castle in Abu Dhabi, colored silk drapes and fabrics blowing around them in the wind.
“His contract must have ended!” Darcy replied, which only made Bennett laugh even more hysterically hard. “At least he can put it on his actor’s resume!”
They had just finished the sixth episode of the series and decided to take a breather. It was a cool, May afternoon. Uncharacteristically cool according to most inhabitants of Martin’s Falls, though she didn’t have anything to compare the temperate weather changes too. She took everyone else’s word for it. Both girls, now good friends, decided to blow off their last period history class and catch up on her mom's PVR, which she noted was very similar, if not exactly the same, of her ‘adult’ life. She attributed this similarity to good taste, though she knew on a deeper level there was a tinge of desperation to it, especially since the characters on the show were very similar to her own teenaged mother.
“I guess. But how could Stefania have take Jina’s word over Mikayla’s? After all they’ve been through together?” Bennett asked honestly, looking at her with genuine concern. She stifled back a laugh at her friends' genuine expression of concern.
“These aren’t real people, Ben. They’re actors, I’m sure of it,” Darcy replied, sitting up from the couch and stretching her legs. They had been sitting in various positions atop the sofa for about 4 hours and she was beginning to feel her calf muscles stiffen.
“Yeah, I know, but they should be depicting ‘real’ relationships and real problems, don’t you think? I mean, it is reality TV after all,” her friend answered, also getting up from the sofa and stretching out her arms behind her neck. “Like honestly, would you have thought Jina was telling you the truth. Remember – this is the same woman who slipped cocaine in your wine at your father’s 80th birthday…and Mika….”
She had to stop Bennett from continuing on her tirade into the credence of reality TV genre and its intent over the today’s modern television viewer. She had experienced first hand Bennett getting heated over certain things which always ended in her practically having a panic attack after working herself up into such a frenzy. She blamed it on hormones. And a slight tinge of craziness. Maybe.
“Bennett – it’s not real life. Those people are just robots. Come on, let’s get something to eat,” she interrupted, forcing her friend to immediately stop talking. Both girls laughed again and walked into the kitchen which literally gleamed brightly in the mid afternoon light.
“I know, I know,” Bennett continued as she peered into the monstrous fridge that nearly took up an entire wall. “It just makes me mad sometimes. People clearly watch these shows expecting some portrayal of reality but they’re so scripted that who knows what’s genuinely authentically real and what isn’t.”
“Very well stated, Madame Bennett,” a deep voice countered. Both girls jumped in their spot of looking into the fridge and turned around quickly, both clearly startled.
As both girls turned around, Mason smiled widely at Bennett. She noticed Bennett’s cheeks begin to redden and then turn into a deep maroon. It would have been sweet if her brother wasn't such a mega-jerk.
“Oh hi, Mason,” Darcy said, her voice monotonous and dry. She wasn’t going to let her brother’s morose demeanor bring down her pleasant afternoon with her new friend. It was one of the few afternoons that have actually been relatively drama-free since ‘the switch’ and she was treasuring every single moment of it.
“Don’t sound too overjoyed to see me, sister,” Mason continued, not taking his eyes, or smile, off of Bennett.
“You now I’m shy about my outward expression of joy and affection towards my loving sibling,” she retorted quickly, happy with her quick response. Bennett looked at the both of them awkwardly.
She took out two water bottles and two tubs of Greek yogurt out of the fridge and closed the door quickly behind her. She didn’t want to extend the discomfort that was clear amongst the three of them, nor make Bennett feel caught in the middle.
“Thanks, Mason,” Bennett replied, surprising her. Bennett typically was mute around Mason, which she thought was because her friend secretly had a crush on him but would never, ever vocalize it. Give me time and I’ll get it out of you, she thought to herself. She handed Bennett a bottle and her friend slowly opened it and took a sip.
“You’re welcome, Bennett. So what piece of seminal episode of the pop culture canon have the two of you been watching anyway?” Mason asked as he helped himself to a bottle of water from the fridge as well. He deliberately took his time walking around Bennett and Darcy noticed a new shade of maroon that she hadn’t yet seen shadowed h
er friends face.
She rolled her eyes and motioned Bennett to walk back to the living room and leave her brother alone. Apparently becoming momentarily mute, Bennett, either intentionally or not, didn’t acknowledge the effort she was making. She even resorted to miming rather crudely but Bennett was just not having it. In fact, as she stepped ever so closer to the living room that was adjacent to the kitchen, she noticed Bennett actually step closer to her Mason and chat.
Suddenly annoyed and not able to bear the weird comfortable interaction that was unfolding before her, she stormed into the hallway, desperately wanting to step outside and get some air. As she walked towards the front door, she made sure to grab her keys off of the side table that sat beneath the large mirror that sat in the foyer and opened the door quickly.
As she opened the door, she pushed her way determinedly towards outside when she smacked right dab into Charlie.
“Oh, Charlie – I’m so sorry,” she whispered, seeing the look of surprise and startle in Charlie’s big brown eyes.
“It’s ok. You are allowed to leave your house once in a while, you know, he quickly replied, his voice deep and safe-sounding. His yellow t-shirt complimented the olive skin tone that seemed to cover every inch of his body.
“I really should be aware of my surroundings. I’m going to walk right into a moving vehicle one of these days,” she replied, blushing and feeling stupid at her silly response. She found it easier to reply the way her 30-year old type would, not the life of an aloof teenager.
“That wouldn’t be a good scene. Unless I was there to save you, of course. Being a hero is on my bucket list,” Charlie said, a smile creeping up upon his face. The dimple on his right cheek made her heart flutter ever so little.
She smiled back, the redness in her cheeks slowly abating. A cool wind entered the house through the front door, and she felt tresses of her hair bob silently upon her shoulder. She absent-mindedly pulled the orange cardigan she had around her shoulders a bit tighter, and slipped her house keys into her jeans pocket.