Guardian (The Guardian Trilogy) (2 page)

Tears
stream down my face too fast for me to keep up with wiping them away.  I just let
them fall and drip off my chin into the sink as I attempt to wash the dishes
from breakfast; the “J” discarded in the trash with the leftover pancake batter
and coffee grounds.

Back in
my room I let the sobs loose into my pillow.  Sleep takes me even though I’ve
already slept away half the morning.  Memories that I try to suppress while I’m
awake keep making appearances in my dreams. This afternoon is no exception.  My
subconscious takes me back in time.

I’m
looking in the mirror and I have to admit for a change, I like what I see.  The
iridescent emerald fabric, which weaves through my black dress, complements my
eyes; usually, they are such a freaky shade of green people think I wear
contacts.  Tonight, my eyes don’t look out of place against my wavy up-do,
formal attire, and made-up face.  I actually went to the salon and had red
highlights put in my brown hair to bring out the light auburn that was already
there.  It was a very girly act for me; normally, I just stick to the wake up,
throw on some jeans, apply a little lip gloss, and go routine.  My reflection
turns in the mirror as I study myself.  I’m impressed that my dress makes me
look like I actually have a waist and a chest, a far cry from my everyday tomboyish
appearance.

James
and I are going to the junior prom.  He couldn’t find a date, which I think was
a lie, and suggested that we go together because we’re best friends and we
shouldn’t miss out on a fun night.  At first I rejected the idea because it
would be too weird.  James and I have been friends since elementary school; he,
Shel, Matt and I have been inseparable since the fifth grade.  But he wouldn’t
let the idea go and I conceded, just as I’m sure he knew I would.  Shel was beyond
ecstatic when I told her.  She’s been trying to convince me that he’s been
interested in me for awhile, but I keep telling her she’s crazy.  He’s James. 
I’m me.  We’re friends.  We hang out.  He’s never said anything or acted any
differently around me.  In the weeks leading up to the dance, I reminded her at
every opportunity that this wasn’t a real date.

I hear
a car pull into the driveway and the door slam.  My stomach leaps into my
throat unexpectedly, my nerves taking me by surprise.  To calm myself, I
rationalize that it’s just another night out with James.  Just like the
countless other times we’ve been to the movies together or done homework or met
up after his hockey games…

Sounds
like dating to me,
my subconscious chimes.  Crap.

“Hey,”
I hear my mom at my bedroom door.  “James is here.”

“O-okay,”
I say nervously.  “I’ll be right down.”  Checking the mirror one last time, I
suddenly feel small despite my 5’6 inch height made two inches taller with
heels.  The full skirt of my dress falls just above my knees making my skinny
legs look like twigs.  I’m feeling a lot of pressure surrounding this night.  Will
my flimsy legs support me?  I play with a few loose strands of hair at my
temple and reassure myself that I can do this.  Everything will be back to
normal tomorrow.

I head
for the stairs and when I make it to the landing before the second set of steps,
I peek around the corner.  Everyone is in the living room, including my
brother.  The boys are in a discussion, probably sports related.  My mom is
playing with the camera.  I’m feeling self-conscious.  I take a deep breath before
heading down and catch a good look at my “date.”

Okay,
wow.

Is it
the tux?  A realization hits me of how good-looking he is.  It’s the same
James.  Sandy brown hair, blue eyes, athletic build.  But he looks
different
somehow.  Have his eyes always been that vivid shade of cerulean blue?  Has his
hair always fallen over his forehead that way?  Have his shoulders broadened in
the last 24 hours?

My mom
catches me peeking at the scene below.  “There she is!” she announces with
excitement.  “Come on down; I need pictures!”

In slow,
careful steps, I make it to the bottom of the stairs.  My dad comes over to me
and smiles, holding me at arm’s length.  “You look beautiful,” he says.

I make
a face.  “You’re just happy I’m not in jeans.”

“Go
stand by the fireplace with James,” my mom tells me.

My date
and I meet in front of her designated picture spot, and our eyes lock for the
first time.  “Hi,” he says with a shy smile.

I find
myself distracted by the perfect curve of his lips, and all I can manage is a
quiet “Hi” in return.  Flashes ensue, lighting up the living room and pulling
my attention away from his mouth.  Is it getting hot in here or is it just me?

“’Kay,
James put the corsage on Em,” my mom directs.

James fumbles
to open the plastic box that contains the flowers, and it slips from his
fingers.  I lunge forward to catch it, and we laugh at the awkwardness of the
moment.  I relax a bit as I hand the box back to him.  This type of interaction
between us is what I’m used to.

Once
James pops the box top he sets it aside and slides the corsage over my hand. 
The flowers are striking.  “What are these?” I ask, lifting my wrist to smell
them.  Three fuchsia blossoms with white centers are complemented by a black
ribbon.  They look exotic, almost tropical.

“Um, I
don’t know.”  He leans in to me and whispers, “My mother picked them out.”  He
looks embarrassed, and I suppress a laugh.

“Look
at me, you two,” my mom says.  “Smile.  Put your arm around...okay good.”

More
flashes.  I think she’s taking more pictures than necessary just in case my
going to a dance never happens again.

As we
stand there posing as a real couple my body becomes hyperaware of his proximity. 
The pressure of his hand feels warm at the small of my back, and I try to
ignore it.  Whatever cologne he’s wearing isn’t helping matters, and I feel the
distinct need to put some distance between us.  My senses have turned against
me.  This is my friend, James.  That’s it.  That’s all.  He hasn’t even told me
I look nice!  I make a mental note to berate Shel later for planting unwelcome
thoughts in my head.

After what
feels like an eternity, we are allowed to leave.  “Have fun!” my parents wave from
the back porch as James helps me into his older model Jeep Wrangler.  It’s cherry
red with a black soft top, and he keeps it in pristine condition.  Every time I
ride in it I’m impressed with how new it looks.

As we
make our way to the high school, free of an audience, I apologize.  “Sorry
about all the pictures back there.”

James
shakes his head.  “Don’t be.  This is a big moment.”

I roll
my eyes.  “How so?  I’m pretty sure dances happen every day.”

“No,”
he smiles.  “You look amazing.”

Whoa. 
He actually complimented me.  Maybe…?  I push the thought aside and shrug off
his words with sarcasm.  “Are you saying I don’t look amazing every day?”

“Basically,”
he winks.

And
regular, non-complimentary, James returns.  Jerk.

I can’t
come up with a witty comeback, so I stare out the window as he drives.  My
nervousness seems to have subsided somewhat since he seems to be acting like
his normal self.  It’s not that long of a ride to the school and we manage to
fill the silence with everyday conversation.  Soon we are headed into the gym
decked out for our “Evening of Elegance.”  Seriously, who comes up with these
cheesy themes?

Once
inside, Shel finds us among the crowd.  “Hey!  You look awesome!” I say.

“Where’s
your man?” James asks, scanning the room for her date.

“He
went to the bathroom.  I swear he’s got some sort of problem; he already went
twice when he picked me up at my house!”

I
laugh.  “He’s probably just nervous.  Besides, I told you it was weird to come
with Zach.  You barely know him.”

Shel
shrugs and smiles.  “I thought ‘why not?’  Even if I don’t have fun at least I
got to buy a new dress.”  She twirls in her most recent purchase, a graceful,
floor-length gray and white sparkly number.

“Ah,
it’s all about the dress, is it?” James asks.  He looks at me, kidding. “Is
that why you agreed to come with me?”

“Of
course!” I smile sarcastically.  “You know what a slave to fashion I am.”

After
some comments from the principal about the fundraising for tonight’s event and
thanking all the staff and students for their hard work, as well as some overly
spastic comments from our overly perky student council president, we are allowed
to enjoy ourselves.  Shel and I leave the boys so we can dance; this is the fun
part that we have been waiting for.  After a few fast songs, at the end of the
forever classic “I Will Survive,” the music changes to something slow.

“Aw
man,” Shel whines as we leave the dance floor.  “I guess I’ll have to dance
with Zach.”

“And
you thought you wouldn’t have to?” I ask, surprised.

“I
don’t see you running to find James,” she accuses.

“I told
you!  We’re just friends.”

“Emma,”
she says, stopping half way back to the table.  “I’m just going to say it.  You’re
delusional.”

“What? 
That’s a mean thing to say!  I am not,” I defend myself.

“Whatever,”
she says in her snarky tone and rolls her eyes at me.

I
follow her over to the table where she grabs Zach for a dance.  Across the
room, I notice James hanging out with Matt and some other friends.  Left alone,
I decide to sit and wait until the music changes.  I think to myself about Shel
and how wrong she is about James being interested in me.  Apparently he doesn’t
want to dance or hang out with me.  As I play with the decorations on the
table, I admit to myself the thought makes me sad even though it shouldn’t.  Eventually,
a couple of friends make their way over and their arrival interrupts my
confetti art.

“Can we
sit with you?” Olivia asks.

“Of
course,” I smile.  “You guys having fun?”

“We
were except now our dates have disappeared.  Where’s yours?” Taylor asks me.

I nod
over my shoulder.  “Over there somewhere.”

“Ours
are probably too,” Olivia sighs then frowns.  “I don’t get it.  What’s the
point of coming to a dance if you’re not going to dance?”

“The hope
that they’ll get lucky on the way home,” Taylor laughs.

We all
smirk and exchange knowing glances.  Somehow the topic of our biology test comes
up, so the conversation turns to a speculative debate about which essay option
will be the easiest.  In the middle of the discussion, Shel and Zach return to
the table.

“What’d
I miss?” Shel asks.

“A
riveting discussion about the biology test.”

“That’s
boring.  C’mon!” she grabs my arm and tows me to the dance floor.

I spend
half of the night dancing with Shel, Olivia, and Taylor.  Olivia and Taylor’s
dates eventually reappear, but the girls are so mad at their abandonment that
they mostly hang out with Shel and me, and take turns dancing with Zach during
the slow songs.  Shel doesn’t mind sharing.

“It’s
your turn,” Shel says to me.

“My
turn for what?”

“To
dance with my date.”

I laugh
nervously.  “I don’t want to dance with your date.”

“Why
not?  He’s enjoying it and it saves me.  Besides, you haven’t danced with
anyone tonight other than me
.
”

“It’s
okay, really.”

“No,
it’s not okay.  I’m starting to get a little pissed at your
friend
,” her
snarky tone returns.

I know
that tone and reassure her.  “Don’t worry about it.  I’m fine.  I’m having
fun.  Really!”

She
makes a face.  “I’m going to get Zach.”

“No, don’t!”

“You
are going to dance at the
prom
with a
boy
,” she states defiantly.

“Ugh. 
You’re impossible.”

Shel
leaves me in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by couples.  I feel
uncomfortable and out of place.  After a minute, Zach appears from the sea of well-dressed
horny teenagers.

“I’m
sorry,” I say as he puts his hands around my waist and I put my hands on his
shoulders.

“It’s
not a problem,” he smiles.  “This night is turning out to be pretty good for
me.”

“I
bet.”  We laugh.

“James
isn’t going to be mad, is he?” he asks.

“For
dancing with me?  Doubtful.”

“He
looks a little upset,” Zach nods over my shoulder.

As we
turn I catch a glimpse of James standing to the side of the dance floor.  Yeah,
his eyes are burning a hole straight through us.  Great.

We
spend the rest of the song in silence looking everywhere but at each other. 
It’s incredibly uncomfortable.  Shel is going to get it for putting me in this
situation.

“Thanks,”
I say to Zach when the song ends.