“Nightmares can be exhausting,” he said with
his eyes lost into an invisible pain.
I knew that pain. My mom’s death was still
really hard for him to handle. I remembered hearing him screaming
in the dark, shouting my mother’s name. It was excruciating to hear
his suffering. I was too small to fully comprehend why he was
feeling like this, why he wasn’t happy that my mom had become a
beautiful angel. And I still couldn’t even imagine that level of
pain. Losing the person you love must be like losing your heart,
your life. But my dad pursued living, enduring the soreness
tormenting him inside while trying to give me all he could. His
emotional strength was awe-inspiring.
“So, you never told me what kind of pizza
you’re learning to cook,” I added smiling. Talking about these
things always cheered him up.
“It’s not a pizza, honey. Don’t you see the
difference? This is a lot better.” He bent to write something down
on one of the sheets that were sprawled on the table. “Mrs.
Goodwill is going to love this recipe.” She was one of the main
characters in the new play he was writing. I still didn’t know what
it was about. He was really secretive with his projects.
“The difference? Sure…” I said, looking at
what seemed to be a pizza with a bunch of holes. “Oh yeah…the sauce
is missing. Is that what makes it more special?”
He laughed, making me feel like a total
moron. “You know, Dad, I'm trying hard here, so your mocking is not
encouraging at all.” I hated everything related to cooking. There
were too many things, timings and measurements. It seemed like math
or chemistry.
He smiled. “It’s Focaccia.”
“Focussa?”
“
No, Fo-ca-ccia.”
He corrected, articulating slowly as if I was mentally impaired.
“It’s Italian bread usually seasoned with olive oil and herbs. The
dough is indeed similar in style and texture to the pizza
dough.”
“See! I wasn’t that far off. You can’t expect
everyone to know everything.”
“But I do expect you to know basic things
like cooking pasta.”
I narrowed my eyes. “That was a tiny mistake
and it happened a long time ago.”
“Tiny? You added pasta to the saucepan
without water.”
“You said you wanted spaghetti
carbonara.”
“Carbonara, not carbonized.”
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, I get it. I learned
the lesson. Drop it please.” Just one tiny mistake and I’d already
been condemned for life.
On our way to Government the next day,
Valerie gave me a quick update of their canceled trip to
Alamogordo. Apparently, Owen had caught stomach flu on Friday and
had spent the entire Saturday with abdominal cramps and headaches.
I was glad he was back in perfect shape today. Too perfect, in
fact. It wouldn't have surprised me if they'd planned this all
along.
Around noon, I was starving. Skipping dinner
and breakfast was something I'd promised to myself to never do
again. I looked around the cafeteria for Tristan—it was almost
automatic now—and what a blow, he wasn’t there. Elan and Mingan
were seated in their usual corner, though, eating pizza with two
flirty girls. But the twin’s eyes were focused on the greasy
cheese, not on the blondes. I held back a smile and started
walking, and then stopped as a hand landed softly on my shoulder.
My stomach filled with butterflies.
I turned.
“Eating alone today?” Tristan asked with that
half smile of his.
It took me long seconds to answer. “No, um,
Valerie and Owen are about to come.” I said, looking down.
Concentrate on the floor, just look at the
floor
.
“You had me worried the other day,” he said
in a low voice.
I looked at him wide-eyed. His face was
surprisingly honest. “Why?” I wondered, confused. The idea of him
being concerned over me was unreal.
“Hey, precious.” A pretty brunette slid to
Tristan’s side out of the blue.
Precious? Who does she think she is?
Gollum?
“Eat with me?” She stepped closer to him,
almost snuggling.
“My friends are waiting.” He gave her a small
smile and stepped away from her.
“I could go with you.” She closed the
distance again.
“That wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said as
politely as he could and stepped away once more.
I stared at the scene, motionless.
She dropped her hands to her hips with a sad
pout. “Even if you keep on turning me down, I won’t give up on you.
You know that, right?”
He gave her another polite smile.
“That’s what I thought.” She blew him a kiss
and left, giving me an ugly onceover on the way.
I looked down feeling uncomfortable
and…angry.
“Sorry about that,” Tristan said.
“What, um, why were you worried?” I asked,
picturing that brunette, Gollum wannabe slipping on a banana peel.
Actually, on a lot of banana peels, with a full crowd of monkeys
watching her.
“Hmm?”
“You said you were worried the other day.” I
looked at him. “What, are you so distracted you forgot?”
He frowned, contorting his face in
confusion.
“You know what? It’s okay. I don’t care. I'm
starving, and you’re stepping out of your boundaries, so let’s
leave it at that.”He opened his mouth to speak but I cut in first.
“And you should know that I don’t like liars. Good bye.” I walked
away.
Several girls were gawking, waves of surprise
and bewilderment sweeping over them—jealousy clearly thickening
those feelings. And it seemed one particular person was sucking
those feelings in. Dean.
“Kal, come sit over here!” he called out.
The table was full of Warriors and babbling
girls, leaving just three seats at the end. I sat next to Dean and
without blinking once, grabbed his pizza and sank my teeth into it.
He was a little surprised by my fierce action, but let it go with a
smile. And I was grateful for that. I wasn’t in the mood to wait in
the line.
One of the girls aimed her eyes on me. A
Barbie type blonde. She looked like the typical cruel, popular girl
that liked to scoff at everyone. “Hey, are you friends with
Tristan?” she asked. Two other girls stared, waiting for my
answer.
“No.”
“It seemed like it. He never chats with
anyone unless someone talks with him first,” she said scornfully.
“Except for you, apparently—and our girl Chloe, of course. But
that’s understandable.”
Something told me I’d gained more female
enemies. “Well, I'm not part of those exceptions, believe me,” I
told her.
“That’s what I thought.” She raised one thin
eyebrow and turned to the other girls.
“They’re just jealous,” Dean whispered next
to my ear.
“That’s really stupid.”
“Not so much,” he said, glaring
crosswise.
I followed his gaze and saw Tristan looking
at me from his table. He was ignoring the same girls that’d been
flirting with Elan and Mingan—who were now directing all their
female glamour on him—and the twins seemed amused by the switch of
attention. Me? Not so much. I felt…I don’t know how I felt.
“What’s up guys?” Owen suddenly said,
settling down in front of me. He bit a slice of pizza.
“You-ook-seous.” He chewed his words along with his food.
“We’re fine,” I said before Dean would start
giving out his judgments. “What were you up to?” I looked at
Valerie.
“Planning Dean’s farewell party with Heidi,
remember?” She accused me with her eyes.
Farewell?
“Yeah, of course I
remember,” I lied, taking a sip of pink lemonade.
“This Friday at Heidi’s house. Her parents
will be gone for the weekend,” she said, laying a red flyer on the
table.
“I can’t believe I'm leaving,” Dean said with
a shake of his head. “I’ll miss this place. And all of you.” He
turned to look at me. That odd spark in his eyes glistening
wistfully.
I lowered my eyes. I felt awful. How could I
have forgotten Dean’s leaving? What kind of person was I? He’d told
us first thing in the morning about his dad’s transfer to Houston.
Mr. Connor’s bosses needed him in Texas as soon as possible. They
were leaving in one week. It’d been a shock to everybody—including
me. I hadn’t forgotten about it because I didn’t care. I did care
for Dean. A lot. But my head had been so full of buzzing thoughts
that I’d gotten lost in them.
It made me sad to watch him go that fast.
Half of the fire between Chloe and me was going to be plunged in
water, but it wasn’t worth the price. I was going to miss Dean.
“Hey, there’s always a bright side to
everything, right?” Owen said to all of us when the mood plummeted.
“It’s been a long time since we had a party—and my forecasting
abilities tell me this one is a party nobody would want to miss.
It’s going to be freaking awesome, man.”
Dean looked at him with a smile. “Yeah, at
least something good came out of this.”
“Oh, yeah. We were in great need of a party,”
Valerie said, clasping her hands together.
I understood their excitement. I didn’t share
it, but I understood it. I wasn’t a party girl. All the drinking
and blasting music and flirting wasn’t for me. Reading books and
watching movies were. There was nothing that excited me more than
that. I’d never understood why some people liked to throw parties
whenever their parents left the house. Doing that wouldn’t even
cross my mind for the slightest second. But then again, I had the
mind of an eighty year old.
I was only going because of Dean. Though the
day they’d chosen didn’t quite suit me—it was actually my birthday,
but there was no need to tell them that—I was going to drag my feet
to that house and try to enjoy the torture.
Yeah. Sometimes having friends was a royal
pain in the neck.
“Oh, by the way, didn’t you hear about
Laura?” Valerie lowered her voice. She always did that whenever
some gossip was on its way. “Apparently, she ran away from
home.”
“Well, that’s certainly not a shocker,” Owen
snorted. “Everyone knows how bad the situation in her house
was.”
“Bad situation?” I asked.
“She didn’t get along with her parents,” Dean
explained. “It was only a matter of time.”
“Yeah, but the weird thing is she didn’t pack
her bags or anything. No money, no credit card, nothing. She
left…just like that.” Valerie said, snapping her fingers.
“Whoa, she must’ve been pretty desperate.”
Owen arched his eyebrows.
Leaving with no money and clothes? How weird.
“Maybe someone helped her to get away,” I said.
“Who knows?” Valerie shrugged.
All my muscles ached from running at gym
class. Every motion made me groan, especially when I sat down.
Besides acting and thinking sometimes like an old person, now I was
actually feeling like one. I opened my laptop to start working on
some college applications that night, but checked my email first. A
new message from Steve popped out.
“Whazzup Kal?” He wrote…
Finally some smoke signals. I was getting a
bit worried. I thought you’ve forgotten me or something.
So you liked tubing, huh? That’s new. Maybe
you’re starting to like speed, and if that’s the case, then hell, I
can’t wait for the day you’ll drive me around. I wouldn’t mind to
drive you around like in the old times, though.
And who’s this miracle guy that convinced
you? A new fan?
I hope someday I can pay you a visit. It
would be great…more than great.
Gotta go.
Steve.
It looked like everything was back to normal
with him. Reading his words was like grasping a big gulp of fresh
air. I realized how much I needed him. I loved to spend time with
Valerie and Owen, and even Dean, but Steve had been my best friend
for ages. What I had with him was unrivaled.
I wrote him back.
Of course I haven’t forgotten you. It just
took me sometime to open my email, that’s all.
About the driving-you-around thing, I think
you need to let go of your hopes. I'm not planning to drive soon,
so we’ll stick to the old times, if you don’t mind.
And the miracle guy (not a fan…okay maybe a
fan) is Dean. He’s a really nice guy. But don’t give him all the
credit, apparently being in a small town pushes you to do things
you wouldn’t expect.
It would be really great if you were here. I
miss our movie nights.
See ya.
Kalista.
I closed my eyes, stretched my neck muscles
and began to work on my future.
“So you’re planning on going to one of those
three colleges?” Valerie asked me while waiting for Mr. Wilson to
come.
“Yeah, good thing my dad’s creativity is well
paid. They’re really expensive.” I looked at Owen who was
completely hooked in chatter with some other guy. “Are you both
going to the University of Albuquerque?”
She nodded with a smile. “We can’t stay away
from each other, even if he’s a pain in the ass most of the time.”
She watched him make bouncy expressions with his hands.
I smiled. “You’re really lucky.”
“What about you, Mrs. Tristan Winfield?” She
turned to look at me.
“Ugh. It’s not like that, Valerie.”
“How do you know that?”
“It’s obvious.”
“Well, it’s not that obvious to me—and other
people,” she added.
“What people?”
“Owen…Dean…me…” she counted with her fingers,
“a lot of girls…” tripling the counting, “and that’s it. But that’s
way more than enough.”
People really liked to gossip around here.
“First, Owen follows everything you say, and secondly, Dean is an
idiot.”
“Can you blame him? He’s jealous. Who
wouldn’t be with such competition?”
“Competition?” I hissed. “There’s no
competition at all. I already told you, I don’t want anything more
than a friendship with Dean, so he shouldn’t care about anything
else beyond that. Besides, I repeat, there’s no competition. You
need a rival to compete and Tristan is definitely not that.”