Surfacing (Spark Saga) (13 page)

Tess

             
The next week at school is spirit week, and Cricket talks me into all sorts of crazy stuff like wearing pajamas to school and painting school colors on my arms.  That wasn’t the original plan, but wearing school colors was.  On Friday morning when I discovered I didn’t have anything black and gold in my closet, I found some body paint from last Halloween and painted stripes on my forearms and called it good.

             
“Impressive,” Cricket says as I walk into homeroom. 

             
“Please, I look like a stinkin’ bumblebee.”

             
She laughs heartily.  “You DO.  OMG.  That’s too funny.  At least you’ll look cool for the game tonight.”

             
“Oh, were we planning to go to the game?”

             
“Um, yeah.  Why wouldn’t we?”

             
“Because I don’t get football.”

             
“We’re going.  I’ll pick you up at 6:00.  And leave the bumblebee stripes intact.”

             
“All right, but you better hope this comes off before Saturday.”

             
“No doubt.  What time do you want to come over and start getting ready?”

             
“Whenever.  We just have to swing back by my house before so my parents can take pictures.”

             
“No prob—where are we meeting Alex?”

             
“At my house, I think.”

             
Cricket starts arranging her papers and books, with just a few minutes left before class officially starts.  “Hey, I’ve been thinking about that whole geocaching thing.”

             
“What about it?  Did you finish your paper?”

             
“Not exactly.  I feel like I need more…to finish it.”

             
“Wasn’t it due this week?”

             
“Monday.  She gave us an extension because of Homecoming.”

             
“Ok, so what were you thinking?”

             
“I was thinking we should split the dance early tomorrow and take Alex on a mission.”

             
“What kind of mission?”  I ask.  “What about the dance?”

             
“Oh, we’ll stick around for the main part of it.  I was just thinking…”

             
“Cricket…” I say with uncertainty.  “What do you have in mind?  It better not involve wandering through graveyards.  Remember, we’re wearing expensive dresses and heels.”

             
“Soooo…we bring stuff to change into.”

             
“And do what?”

             
“We take Alex to the geocaches and see if he has any ideas.  I mean, you have to admit, he’s a brain.”

             
“No way, Cricket.  It was just a prank, remember?  It doesn’t mean anything.”

             
“But maybe it does….it will be fun.  A chilly autumn night, permission to stay out till midnight.  If nothing else, we get away from Snob Central for the evening.  I mean come on...do you really think the dance is going to be all that fun?”

             
“Yeah, actually.  I thought that was the point—the three of us going together.  And Alex is actually excited about it.  He thinks he has
two
dates for the night.”  I chuckle.

             
Cricket sighs and cocks an eyebrow.  “Seriously?”  She gives me a pouty smile. 

             
“Ok, maybe we will leave
slightly
early…as long as Alex is game.”

             
“Awesome!  I’m so excited.  Bring some jeans and a sweatshirt and put it in my car.  Ok, 6:00 tonight.  Be ready, ok?  I’m driving.”

              On my way out of school, Cricket is nowhere to be found.  I run by her locker and send her a text, but she doesn’t answer.  We normally hang out right after school.  On my way to the parking lot, she finally responds to my text to tell me that she had a dentist appointment right after school and that she’ll see me tonight.

             
I nearly run right into Zach Webb on my way to the car, and for some strange reason, he actually stops to talk to me.  He asks me if I’m going to the game and I tell him, truthfully, that I don’t really like football.  He seems amused by this, and then starts talking about his parents and my parents hanging out together back in the day.  I’m thinking the whole time,
where is he going with this?  Why?
And then my heart almost stops when he mentions seeing me and Cricket at the graveyard on Saturday.  I mutter the first response I can think of—basically that it was Cricket’s English assignment—and then hope the conversation ends quickly, which it does, but not until I admit I’m clueless when it comes to football, and that I have random memory loss. 
Wonderful.  Now my freakiness is confirmed with the hottest guy in school.  Why can’t I just learn to keep my mouth shut?

             
Even stranger than the fact that he stops to talk to me is that he doesn’t look at me like I’m crazy.  He actually
looks
at me, like I’m a normal person—but there’s something else I can’t quite describe.  It’s like there’s something else he wants to say to me, but can’t quite figure out how to say it, a sort of reflection in his eyes, something familiar, and perfectly comfortable.  I really feel like I can talk to him, but the fact that we’re standing in the school parking lot on the afternoon of the biggest game of the year, where everyone can see us, makes me want to disappear.  It just seems awkward talking to Dani’s boyfriend.  And yet, I am drawn to those eyes…
Why on earth am I here?  Why me?

             
After a few moments of silence that seem to take forever, he finally tells me he will see me at the game, and believe me, I am all too ready to get in my car and drive away.  I tell him,

“Sure, I’ll see you there,” not really expecting that I will, but it sounds good, and it gets me away from the situation.

              All the way home, I am obsessing about my memory.  Apparently Zach and I have a history—one that I have no clue about.  Zach Webb knows things about me that I don’t even know myself.  How disturbing is that?  I am dying to call Cricket, but she’s probably still at the dentist.  Zach Webb…of all people.  How is it possible that we used to hang out together and I don’t even remember it?  I wonder what else I don’t remember, and I’m starting to get seriously depressed.  I try not to think too much about what happened to me, but there are times like this when it just bugs the heck out of me. 

             
First of all, the fact that I was in a coma for four years is crazy enough, but landing myself in the hospital just months after I wake up is beyond insane.  Not to mention the fact that both incidents involved my getting a bit too close to a lightning strike.  What’s up with that?   I’m beginning to think that there is really something wrong with me.  I mean, why on earth would I go wandering around in the park during a storm?  And why is my memory all messed up?  I make a note to bring these questions up with my doctor next time I visit.  Maybe I’m just crazy, but it all seems a bit too coincidental.  Plus the fact that my best friend’s boyfriend stops me at school with some nutty ideas about our personal history.  And now that I think about it, I have to question my friendship with Dani.  I mean, she’s been fairly distant for the past couple of weeks…and those comments she made about Cricket just make me mad.  Maybe she’s pre-occupied with Homecoming, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that we’ve been best friends since third grade.  Maybe Zach sees something up with Dani too…maybe that’s why he stopped to talk to me.  Who knows?  Not me, apparently.  I’m walking around with big holes in my brain, technically speaking.  I’m a walking program error, a corrupted file, just trying to figure out how to get through the next interface.

              On my nightstand at home is a photo of me when I was about five years old.  I look at it every night before I go to bed.  When I get home, as I’m getting ready to go to the game, I pick it up and look at it for a long time.  It’s me, but I feel disconnected from it—and rightly so.  Four years of my life were basically erased, non-existent.  What happened during those four years, inside my brain?  And how did I get from there, to where I am now—a girl with an incomplete past, and a future that seems almost as uncertain?  Those missing memories must be in my brain somewhere, right?  Memories don’t just disappear.  I mean, they
happened. 
The only thing preventing me from knowing how or where is me—and whatever physical limitations resulted from my accidents.  Pretty messed up, to be both protagonist and antagonist in the story that is my own screwed up life. 

             
I decide the only answer is to move forward.  My past isn’t the only thing that determines who I am.  Some people might even say that forgetting the past and living in the present is a good way to go.  I have all the basic information I need to function.  I remember the important stuff—like vacations with my parents when I was little, Christmases, birthdays…for the most part.  I still have my friends.  I’m doing pretty good in school.  It’s not like the rest of my life is going to be based on what happens in high school.  My dad once asked me, when I was upset about not being invited to a friend’s party in fifth grade: 
Is this going to matter in five years?  Ten years? 
That made me think, about how the things that happen to me as a kid aren’t as big and scary as they seem.  If I can deal with the small stuff, he said, I will breeze through the big stuff. 

             
As it stands right now, the biggest thing that’s happened to me is laying in a hospital bed for four years.  I’ve already cleared the biggest hurdle—the physical consequences of that injury.  I’ve recovered, for the most part, with some partial memory loss, which doesn’t affect my ability to function on a daily basis.  I remember one time in school, a teacher telling us a story about a friend of his who got shot in a random drive-by shooting, and lived to tell about it.  His conclusion was that the worst thing in life had already happened to him, so he might as well enjoy and make the best of his life from there on out.  I remember that, because it made sense to me.  Why dwell on something bad that’s happened, when it’s over?  It makes no sense to live in the past.  Living in the past lands people in therapy.  Living in the past makes people miss the good stuff in life. 

             
And I for one, don’t want to miss that.  Tess Turner’s future begins, right here and now.  I can’t help but smile to myself with this new outlook.  It almost feels empowering enough to make me actually
want
to go to a football game and a dance, two things I probably wouldn’t even have considered before.  Maybe I
have
changed.  And maybe, it’s a good thing.

Zach

After a fitful couple nights of sleep, I wake up Monday morning halfheartedly ready for Homecoming week.  There will be spirit events, socializing, practices
, and more practices, a dinner with the team the night before the game…Plus Dani and the dance on Saturday night.  I am in for a busy week, so I must stay focused.  With some reluctance, I push my father and Project Zero to the back of my mind, knowing full well that every time I see Tess Turner, I will be reminded again.  Hopefully, I will have the strength to take this whole thing one step at a time.  I could really mess things up by saying the wrong thing to the wrong person, or getting so worked up that everything else in my life starts going haywire.  If it truly is my father, and I truly do have a role to play in this continuing adventure, time will reveal it.  Caution seems to be the best route at this point.

By Friday, I am calm and focused, ready for the game.  My mom sends me off with a pancake breakfast and a hug, and wishes me well at practice after school.  I drive to school with the windows down and music loud to keep my mind off analyzing anything—like the connection between the human brain and electrical currents, and Tess Turner’s peculiar relationship with lightning.  I stop for a coffee on the way to school, and by the time I pull into the lot, I am feeling somewhat energized and positive. 
Now I just need to keep this game face on, no matter what.

Dani is standing at the entrance to the school, waiting for me.  She runs up and jumps on me, wrapping her legs around me. 

“Whoa, slow down!  I’m the one that’s supposed to be working on my tackling.”

Dani giggles and kisses my cheek.  “I missed you.”

“You too,” I smile and kiss her back.  “You look cute.”  She is dressed in her cheerleader uniform, with black and gold striped socks, and a matching ribbon in her hair.

“You like the socks?  They’re new.”  She stretches out a leg and twirls her foot.

“Awesomely adorable,” I agree, kissing her again.

That morning, the whole school gathers in the gymnasium for a spirit assembly.  I sit near the floor with my team members and the cheerleading squad.  As the school song blares on the stereo, I glance over at Dani, and she winks at me.  Then Alex, student body president, gets up to deliver a rallying speech.  At the end, black and gold confetti streams from the ceiling, as the cheerleaders gather on the floor to do a dance routine.