Swift (3 page)

Read Swift Online

Authors: Heather London

“What! You are going to pay for this,” I warned.

“Come on, at least try and have a good time and participate. Please?” He frowned.

“Yeah, can’t wait,” I said sarcastically as I raised my hands up in the air pretending to celebrate.

“What am I going to do without your optimistic, cheerful personality all summer? My world is going to be so dark.” He grinned.

“You are going to miss me, and you know it.”

His smile grew as he pulled me in for one of his infamous bear hugs.

“Okay, too tight … so full … I am about to—”

He let go before I could finish, anticipating what I was about to say.

“Okay, well, go home and take a nap. You need your beauty sleep more than I do,” he said as he began to walk backwards toward his car.

“You are such a jerk,” I snapped and then turned around on my heels, waving as I walked off.

“See you tomorrow night. Be ready to party!” he screamed from a distance, and I looked back to see him crouch down into his shiny, blue ‘69 Mustang.

I never understood why he wanted that car. It must have been horribly uncomfortable for his six-foot-two build. It did make me smile though as I heard the purr of the engine start and grow even louder as he drove away.

Ugh, just thinking of the word
party
made my stomach turn and my skin crawl. As much as it pained me, I couldn’t hate Roger for wanting to try and make me happy. He was the only person who actually got me. The weird, introverted, nonconformist loner. He still loved and accepted me all the same. We probably wouldn’t be as close as we are if he had not lost his father when he was younger. His dad didn’t pass away, like my family; his dad walked out on them, moved to Rockport, and got a new girlfriend when Roger was just seven. I guess we became close because we had the whole parent-abandonment thing in common, even though they were under very different circumstances.

Growing up, I had always envied Roger. He’s what I called a dreamer and achiever. He knew what sport he wanted to play in high school, so we practiced all summer before freshman year so he would make varsity. He knew the exact color, make, and model of the car he wanted when he turned sixteen, so he worked double time to make sure he had enough money to buy it. Now he had been accepted to Harvard and would without doubt graduate with honors and continue on to law school. He knew who he was and what he wanted to do with his life. I, on the other hand, could not even tell you what was on my agenda for tomorrow. Well, other than this party I had just agreed to. It was effortless for him to be normal, to want the typical life and be content. It was not as easy for me. For some reason, I felt like there was more out there for me, and if nothing else, I had to at least try and find it.

As I approached the corner of Main and Sycamore, I pressed the crosswalk button and waited. After a few seconds, I looked right and left and saw the street was deserted. Just as I was about to step off the curb, something caught my eye. Or should I say, someone. There on the opposite corner a guy was standing facing me. It was weird, because I could feel the stare that he held on me. My eyes drifted toward him, and when our eyes met, his stare did not waver in the least. A shiver ran down my spine when I realized that I did not recognize him either. He was tall, maybe six feet or so and had blonde hair. His athletic build reminded me of most of our football players at school. I couldn’t make out much more detail because of the distance separating us. Our eyes were locked together for a few seconds, only interrupted by the beeping of the crosswalk, letting me know it was my turn to cross. I shook my head as if to wake myself up from a dream, and without thinking twice about it, I stepped off the curb and into the street. And that’s when I heard it—the horrible sound of tires screeching, trying their hardest to stop. But by the time I looked to my right, it was too late. I couldn’t have moved out of the path of the car even if my frozen legs could’ve moved—there was just no time. The only thing I could do was shut my eyes tight, hope it would be quick, and pray the pain would be slight. Then everything went totally silent, so silent that I could hear my ears ringing and my heart pounding loud against my chest.

About a second later, a second past when I thought I would be road kill, I slightly opened my right eye and gasped at what I saw. The car was still in front of me, but it was moving in very slow motion. I mean, like molasses coming out of a bottle slow. Everything around me felt weird, different. I looked around, wondering if maybe the car had already hit me and this was just a cruel part of the afterlife or something, making me watch in slow motion how I died.

When I turned and looked to my left, I saw the same guy across the street, still staring right at me. The moment our eyes locked on each other, everything went back to normal. Well somewhat. I looked back in front of me just in time to see the car that I had thought was about to come barreling into me come to a startling halt just inches away from my body. Then I heard someone shouting.

“Meredith! Oh, my god, I’m so sorry. The light turned from green to red in an instant. There was no yellow light or anything. Are you okay?” Mr. Griffin, my old history teacher, hung his head out of his car. He was yelling at me, his voice shaking with each word.

I must have been in shock because I couldn’t speak.

“Meredith! Are you hurt?” Mr. Griffin was beside me now. “Do you want me to call an ambulance or something?”

That woke me up out of the daze I was in. “Um—no. That won’t be necessary,” I said, noticing my voice held the same trembling tone as his.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I’m really sorry. I-I swear the light was green and then it just turned red. I tried to stop, but—”

“Fine. I’m fine,” I interrupted him. I continued my walk across the street, searching desperately for the guy that had been watching me. Maybe he could help explain what the hell just happened back there, or at least confirm that I wasn’t going nuts. But he was nowhere to be found. Something very weird had just happened. The car had been going too fast. It had been going to hit me before something or someone stopped it. It was as if time had stopped or slowed down somehow. I walked home in a daze, trying to convince myself that I was just overreacting. What I thought I saw back there just couldn’t have happened. It just wasn’t possible. When I arrived home, I walked right into the barrage of questions I had so masterfully avoided that morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Three

“Meredith, you had me worried sick. Where did you sneak off to this morning?” Aunt Rose asked impatiently, trying to maintain a serious tone as she held her hands on her hips.

Dropping my backpack and purse at the foot of the stairs, I tried to snap myself out of the daze I was still in. The last thing I wanted was to make Aunt Rose worry about me more than she already did. When I looked at her face, I had to press my lips together, trying to make an effort to not smile. I knew how hard it was for her to play the strict guardian role. She was more like an older sister to me than anything.

But to please her, I decided to play along and act like the disobedient child taking her punishment. “Sorry, I should have told you that I was headed out.” I exhaled, hanging my head low. “I went to the cemetery.” Even though it was a low blow, I knew mentioning it would quiet her. I was just not in the mood for talking or playing that part for very long.

“Oh—well, I just wish you would have told me. I would have gone with you. All you had to do was ask,” she said, immediately changing her stance and attitude.

I smiled timidly. “Don’t worry about it. I already got the lecture from Roger on going there by myself. But like I told him: I just wanted some time alone with them.”

When she smiled back at me, I knew that was the end of that conversation. Then guilt washed over me, and I started to feel bad for throwing out the cemetery card so early on. It was tough looking at her face, seeing her sympathetic eyes staring back at me. Maybe I should’ve played the disobedient child part a little longer.

Aunt Rose was my guardian, my adult supervision, my answer whenever I was asked who I lived with, but she was not my real aunt. She was actually my mom’s best friend; they had grown up together in Marblehead.  Since I had had no other family around when my parents passed away, she was the lucky one that got stuck with me. The only name I ever called her growing up was Aunt Rose. She had given up everything for me and never thought twice about it. She had left her apartment and nursing job in Boston and moved into my house, not wanting me to have any more change than I had had already.

“To change the subject, how about we talk about your plans for this summer? You know, just so I can get an idea of your schedule and stuff.” She bit her lip, knowing that was a bit of a touchy subject between us.

“Okay, but I already told you most of it. Get a job, save up some money, and then travel a bit when the summer ends. What else do you need to know?” I questioned, hoping she didn’t want specifics because I had none.

“Oh, nothing, that’s perfect. I just wanted to make sure those plans had not changed. You are so wishy-washy lately.” I was not wishy-washy, but before I could defend myself, she began  again. “Which brings me to tell you that I have the perfect job for you.” Her eyes lit up in excitement.

“Oh, no, please not the hospital. You know I can’t stand sick people, blood, or the smell of that place,” I complained.  My throat went dry with fear and I made my way into the kitchen for a glass of water.

She laughed, following me persistently. “Relax, it’s not the hospital. Although I think that would be nice, you know, so we could spend some extra time together. But I wouldn’t do that to you.”

Aunt Rose was a nurse at our small, local hospital. Even though the town rarely ever saw any action, there were the occasional deep cuts with a kitchen knife, kids jumping on their bed, falling off, and busting their heads open, and lots of gross sick people.

I listened to her as I drank some water, quenching the dryness in my throat.

“Well.” She hesitated for a moment. “I kinda ran into Ms. Donaldson today, and she asked about you. I mentioned that you were going to be here this summer, and she said that there was an opening for an assistant.”

“Kinda ran into Ms. Donaldson? She asked about me?” I questioned suspiciously. Ms. Donaldson was our town librarian; she must have been close to eighty years old. I had a hard time believing she even remembered her own name.

“She was just trying to make conversation. I thought it was nice. Besides, it sounds like the perfect job for you,” she insisted.

I can’t lie; it was a little weird that Ms. Donaldson had asked about me. It was weird because I don’t think she even knew who I was. She had never acknowledged me by name the few times I had gone to the library. And truth be told, I tried to avoid that place whenever I could. During school, I did most of my research projects online just so I would not have to go down there. The place gave me the creeps. But as the idea resonated, it didn’t sound half bad. It would probably be quiet since it was summer and school was out. I had to admit, it sounded a lot better than working as a waitress or a grocery store clerk.

“Uh, thanks for the heads up, Aunt Rose. I will go down there and apply this week,” I promised.

“Great! Well, that was easy.” She smiled and patted me on the back. “I’m off to work. Someone called in sick, so I will be pulling a double shift, which will leave you on your own for dinner tonight. Call the hospital if you need anything,” she shouted while on her way out the door.

“Will do!” I shouted back as I heard the door slam.

On my own for dinner
tonight
? I was on my own for dinner almost every night. When Aunt Rose wasn’t working or sleeping, she was usually with her boyfriend Jack. But it was cool because I actually liked being alone, and I liked Jack. By the looks of it, he and Aunt Rose made a strange couple. Aunt Rose was a petite woman with short, blonde hair while Jack towered over her and wore a pony tail down his back. But I guess in their situation, opposites do attract. Jack and Aunt Rose had been dating for a few years now, and he owned a car detail shop in town. The kind of shop that you bring your car in to if you want to turn it into a flashy one. The kind of car that would draw attention in a crowd. That’s why I respectfully declined each time he offered to fix mine up if I ever got one. It’s not that Aunt Rose didn’t try her hardest to buy me a car for my sweet sixteen; it’s just that I never wanted one. I lived three blocks from school, six blocks from the town center, and a couple miles from the cemetery. Why would I need a car when I could just walk? But just because I didn’t get a car doesn’t mean I didn’t get my driver’s license. It was necessary for emergency’s sake and the occasional grocery trip I made.

I headed upstairs, peeled off my clothes, and threw my pajamas from earlier that morning back on. I curled back up in bed, hoping that drowsiness would consume me, but no such luck. So much for beauty sleep, I thought to myself. As I lay there, the thought of the party slowly crept into my head and then panic set in as to what I would wear to the dreadful event. The thought turned me into a crazy person. I got up out of bed and began to tear through my closet to find anything appropriate for the Hawaiian theme—something, anything that would allow me to blend in. Go unseen if at all possible.

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