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"I said I was sorry," she finally replied, honestly apologizing for being late, though in all fairness she didn't know she was indeed running late as she had just been thrust into this foreign life. Automatically, she felt like she had the right way to deal with it: refer to your expert knowledge of teen fiction dialogue, she thought to herself while Claire seemed to grow more and more noticeably agitated. How would Jessica Wakefield deal with this?
"God, Claire, who stuck the gigantic stick up your ass this morning?" she finally countered, wishing with all her might that her selected response would do the trick and take Claire's anxiety and obvious anger down a few thousand notches. “Are you PMS’ing and didn’t text me the heads up? You know how I hate to be caught off guard with such pressing matters of our teenage existence.”
Claire slowly turned to face her, momentarily shocked at Darcy's witty response, and hastily threw her cherry-red lip gloss into the enormous purse/backpack/duffle bag that sat atop her lap. Darcy momentarily thought she had really blown it but was swiftly relieved when she heard Claire burst out laughing seconds later. The deep gales of laughter seemed to come from the very core of her friend's teeny-tiny body. She felt the breath she was holding leave her body and laughed, too, as Flint Ridge high came into view before them.
The school seemed to be, rather unsurprisingly on second thought, something right out of a book. It sprawled over many acres that were lined with assorted types of trees and wooden fences. Darcy could see actual groundskeepers trimming the hedges in various spots while students looked on, fully entranced by their conversations with their peers. Situated on a hill that had a stellar view of the small town below, the school towered over the two friends. A lump quickly formed in Darcy's throat.
"Sorry, D – I just promised Luke that I'd meet him before homeroom. Let's go!" Claire giggled. The girl practically propelled herself from the car as soon as they slowed down, leaving Darcy behind to gather her own purse and park the gleaming and new-looking luxury car.
Dodged a bullet there, she thought to herself as she cautiously parked the car into a minute spot by a row of oak trees. The trees lined one of the schools many apparent walk ways that led to the school itself. The parking spot also happened to be just far enough from the school's main entrance so she and Claire could make a grand entrance. Hastily exiting the car, she walked quickly to join her friend who was already waiting by one of the enormous trees that flanked the entry to the parking lot.
She instantly felt all eyes fall upon her and Claire as they causally strolled past the tall, looming trees that led to the main entrance of Flint Ridge High. Most students, and a few teachers, seemed to stop and stare at them as they walked by. Some even nodded at them. Darcy soon noticed that Claire had no reaction or response to any of the kind gestures, giving the impression that she didn’t even see them.
Following Claire's lead, she kept a blank expression upon her wrinkle-free face as they crossed the threshold of the high school. She barely had time to take in the scene, which seemed right out of West Beverly High, when she saw a woman out of the corner of her eye. A woman wearing a long red dress which was blowing in a non-existent breeze. True to form, there sat a meticulously styled red bun atop the woman's head. The woman stared at her intently, there was no mistaking that, from her position by the fountain that was ensconced in the centre of the busy school hallway which gave the school the appearance of a suburban mall rather than a high school.
Marina, Darcy thought to herself, immediately stopping following her friend before her and instead began to follow the older woman down the heavily populated hallway. Claire appeared in visible shock behind her at Darcy's quick change in direction.
As she had earlier that morning, she began to feel her heart beat speed up, threatening to erupt out of her chest. She followed Marina down another hallway, maze like in its floor plan. None of the other students seemed to find it particularly odd that one of their peers was following a strange looking woman who was completely out of place at the luxurious school.
A few braver students stole a quick glance as she walked by, and this time she smiled back at them. Without Claire in tow, she was slowly beginning to get into the swing of the new her - for however much longer she was the new her, that was.
As Marina opened a heavy aluminum door leading to the stairwell at the back of the school, Darcy found herself wondering, That's it. It was nice while it lasted. At least I got to feel popular for a few hours. What does Marina want now?
Holding her breath, she opened the door to join Marina to see what the woman wanted and what her random visit was hoping to accomplish.
Chapter 11
The stairwell smelled faintly of urine, sweat and candy corn. The odd concoction of scents filled Darcy's nostrils as she briskly followed Marina down the many, many steps. At once, she felt she was entering yet another kind of alternate reality as soon as the heavy thud of the door slam shut behind her. The thundering sound caused her to make a slight scream, its echo reverberating in the stairwell.
Just as she was descending the last few steps of the beige, weirdly-scented steps, she noticed her surroundings seem to completely disappear. At first she thought that perhaps maybe the power had simply gone out, but as her eyes adjusted to the overbearing darkness, the stairwell transformed abruptly into a massive, cavernous white room. Feeling like Carissa in her beloved 'Bright Nightfall' series, she slowly took in the new brightly lit environment that surrounded her. She had a rather difficult time differentiating the ceiling from the ground at her feet, which strengthened the palpable energy of the space around her.
As her eyes began to adjust to the white, lavish and seemingly never-ending room that loomed before her, she soon noticed Marina standing just steps away to her right.
The book store owner was in her typical regaled outfit, this one a beautiful, purple gown that just touched the ground, giving the illusion of her floating instead of standing on the indiscernible ground that they both found themselves upon. The woman’s trademark fiery-red hair stood perfectly cropped in her trademark bun that was tightly wound atop her head. Marina’s complete ensemble stood out in dark contrast to their surroundings, and its blinding whiteness. Darcy found herself instinctively shielding her eyes from the sheer intensity. She had earnestly wished that she had brought her sunglasses with her before leaving the house earlier that morning.
“Marina!” she exclaimed, her voice unintentionally loud. Oddly enough, the high volume of her voice didn’t cause an echo in the all-white Mecca she was standing within.
“What are you doing here? What have you done?"
Out of nowhere, and completely inaudibly, a purple chair suddenly appeared before her. It had a very high back, reaching upwards toward the non-distinguishable ceiling. She mentally noted the chair resembled a prop out of Alice in Wonderland and looked very comfortable in all of its elegant plushness.
“Sit,” Marina instructed, her voice sharp and pointed. Darcy automatically sat down without hesitation or question.
Finally being able to rest her eyes upon the diminutive woman before her, she noticed that Marina seemed to appear somewhat disparate, but she could not say really how specifically. The woman’s appearance was as glamorous and demure as ever, yet something nagged at her that Marina had something noticeably quite offbeat emanating from behind her eyes. She always and only ever noticed warmness and love in the book store owner’s expression, but she felt something colder now, almost callous in its nature. The recognition of this coldness caused a shiver to run to from the base of her spine to her exposed shoulder.
“You must have many questions, my dear,” Marina began, sitting on a stool that, like the purple chair that appeared before Darcy just moments ago, materialized out of virtual thin air. This stool was red and more regular people sized. She chastised herself subconsciously for thinking such irrelevant thoughts at a time of crisis.
That’s an understatement, she thought to herself. For some unexplainable re
ason, she found it unsettling sitting there before Marina. Spending time with the older woman was invariably always a joyous affair, a time in which she would be free of worry and inhibitions and truly be herself without fear of judgment or repercussions. Now, however, she couldn’t help but note that the current situation seemed to be the complete opposite. She not only had the unmistakable feeling as though she was being judged, but she also felt somewhat like a guinea pig in an elaborate and well-coordinated laboratory experiment. She felt as though she was being tested, but for reasons or what end results completely unknown to her.
“In all the years I have known you, Darcy, you have always wanted to live in these worlds of teenagers, yes?” Marina declared, a smile upon her ruby red lips. Her fingers fidgeted. Darcy noticed Marina's nails slowly touching the edges of her stool, making an almost inaudible sound that echoed in the far recesses of the white room.
“Yes. We’ve gone over this already before you thrust me into small town USA where all of my favorite books are usually set,” Darcy snapped back, unsure why she was being so defensive. She just couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being interrogated. There was definitely something askew with the whole current environment - time-travel and new life notwithstanding.
“Might I remind you," Marina replied, "That you agreed to this thrusting, as you say.”
Maintaining her ever-cool composure, the woman continued. “You said yes when I asked you if you wanted me to make this wish of yours come true. You are not completely innocent in all of this, Darcy.”
“I didn’t think it would actually happen, Marina,” Darcy quickly retorted, her voice subtly quivering.
Are you going to bust out a Delorean now, Is Marty McFly going to take me to the prom?, she thought silently.
“I know this is a lot for you to process,” the mysterious woman continued, oblivious to her fairly obvious cynicism. She slowly stood up from her perch atop the red, silk stool and began to slowly stroll towards Darcy, her deliberately exaggerated pace unnerving her more and more.
“But I thought that I should explain a few things to you before you got too immersed in the life of the 17 year old Darcy Platt,” Marina went. She seemed to change her mind randomly and decided to sit down once more. She then focused her gaze squarely upon the girl before her.
“Well, don’t you think that maybe you should have explained these things to me before I woke up this morning in the body of a teenaged girl!” Darcy yelled, not intending to do so. “I mean, I didn’t honestly think that all of this could really happen.”
“I understand that you are upset but are you not enjoying yourself?” Marina smiled. At that moment, Darcy caught a glimpse of the Marina she knew so well, the kind Marina, but she just could not shake off the steeliness that glinted within the woman’s eye just moments ago.
With all that was going on – the smelly stairwell, her new life, the white room – she hadn't even had a single moment to truly reflect on this question, which self-admittedly was extremely unlike her. The internal monologue that was on an endless loop within her head normally beat everything to death.
She supposed she was enjoying herself in a way, but she was still really confused and shocked that Marina was able to make all of these seemingly actual real-life things occur. Sure, she agreed to enter the world of the books she read so religiously and she couldn’t blame anyone else for making that decision for her. But did she think it could actually happen? A big, resounding no was the only word that filled her head.
She felt the teen books she read were always there for her, more than any person in her life ever was. The fictitious pages had acted as a way for her to unwind and put the real world’s issues and worries at bay. The characters within these sensationalized, fictional worlds acted like her friends more than her actual human friends did in recent times. But she also rationally knew that these types of life events didn’t happen, least of all to the single, thirty something, and lonely Darcy Platt. The girl voted most likely to be average forever. The girl who never dyed her hair. The girl who always pined for something more.
“You have to stop thinking this way,” Marina said, interrupting her self-reflective daydream. “You were chosen, Darcy. From the very first day I met you, I knew you were the one,” Marina declared, eyes unmoving from her face, confrontationally staring into her soul.
“Were you reading my mind just now?" Darcy asked, her voice small and scared. The words slipped out of her mouth before she even realized it.
“I was reading your heart,” Marina retorted, standing up and turning her back to face her.
The words felt like a ton of bricks were thrown upon her chest. At once, she felt speechless but also felt the overbearing yearning to scream out at the top her lungs. While she didn’t know why the last words Marina uttered affected her so primal like, she knew that the woman was indeed right.
“The one?” she finally managed to squeak out. She felt her heartbeat quicken, her throat suddenly dry and parched. She leaned back upon the back of the purple chair, the softness of the upholstery feeling like a giant hug. A glass full of iced water suddenly and inexplicably appeared on a microscopic white marble table beside her. She noticed a large pink straw beckoning to her thirst. She hastily grabbed the glass and drank greedily, as though she were in the Nairobi dessert and hadn’t drunk water for days.
“Yes, the one,” Marina replied, standing up from her perch once more. Her dress had now turned a vivid emerald green, full of what appeared to be encrusted diamonds that shone brightly. A barrage of invisible fans blew air towards Marina’s gown, causing it to flap around every which way. Darcy felt the cool breeze upon her forehead, welcoming its refreshing briskness.
“You have been chosen, Darcy. You are special. You are different from the rest.”
Drinking the last few drops of water from the enormous straw, Darcy dabbed the corners of her mouth with her sleeve. “The one? The chosen one to do what?”
“The one who will change things forever. You have been granted the one wish you have always wanted. However, this wish does not come without something you must do for me,” Marina whispered. Once again, she sat down atop the stool which changed to a bright, sun-like yellow.
“How will I change things forever? I don’t understand,” she replied, feeling more confused than ever.
“You have been put into this life of a teenage girl who you will soon find out isn’t as innocent as you, or those around her, thinks she is. You will have to make some difficult decisions,” Marina instructed.
“I’m sure I can handle it,” she responded. She suddenly felt anger build within her chest. “Am I going to go to the prom with the good guy or the bad guy? Am I going to get a makeover or make-under? Am I going to be the mean girl or nerdy girl? I get it, Marina. I’ve read every book where these decisions are made by a protagonist who has body issues and who may or may not come from a broken home. It’s not that really that difficult or complicated.”
Marina laughed a loud, shrill laugh. Darcy felt the sound reverberate within her very core, causing her to wince lightly.
“Wake up, Darcy!” Marina screamed. “I have granted your wish. You will live in this world for a time. But only you can decide if you get to stay.”
“I don’t understand!” Darcy answered, standing up from her chair and accidentally knocking over the glass to the floor in the process of her hasty action. She noticed that it didn’t break or make any sound. If she hadn’t seen it fall with her very own eyes, she wouldn’t have known it wasn’t atop the table any longer. Suddenly, the glass disappeared entirely.
“Stop speaking in riddles and clichés, Marina,” she continued. “Tell me why I’m here and why you have granted me my wish. What have I been chosen to do? Tell me!”
The small woman took a moment before answering.
“You will live the life of the teenage girl you have always wanted to be. You will get to stay in this world if you get everyone to like you, for you to be abl
e to make them think that you are good, that you are trying. If you do not, then, well, this is where the bad lies…”
“What do you mean? What is ‘the bad’?" Darcy replied.
“The bad is my shop. My store will disappear – I will disappear – if you do not accomplish this task. You are special, and I know you saw Clifton that day in my shop”, Marina declared.
“Clifton?” Darcy questioned. Marina’s totally losing it, she thought.
“Yes, that night when I first told you about my offer. I had been arguing with him in my office. He was coming to collect what I owe him. I had told him you were ready to have your wish granted but he thought I was being too hopeful, too expectant of you. Did you not notice that Griffin did not seem to notice the doors slamming? Or our loud screams? Griffin can hear a pin drop on a loud downtown street. Did you not find it odd that he did not even look up?!” Marina yelled.
Darcy shuddered. In retrospect, she did find it extremely bizarre that only she could hear the argument in the shop, but she just thought it was perhaps because Griffin’s hearing may have not been what it used to be.
“Coming to collect what?” she then asked, afraid of the answer. “What was Clifton coming to collect?”
Marina’s expression quickly changed to one of pain. She looked like she was about to cry, or yell, or scream out in pain. Darcy didn’t know which, but she knew it was going to be intense regardless.
“He was coming to collect me. You see, Darcy, you hold all the power. You can live in this world if you choose to, but you will have to make things right,” Marina quietly said.
“Make things right? Make what things right?” she quickly replied.
“Only you will be able to know,” Marina answered.
“Marina, I don’t know if I want all of this responsibility. I don’t understand. What will happen if I fail to ‘make things right?’
Suddenly, the room that had been a blinding white turned into a composite sea of reds and oranges. The two women were at once on the edge of the horizon at dawn where no one else, no matter how big or small, existed. A giant wind flared up, causing both women to shield away from its strength.