Through Indigo's Eyes (31 page)

No, don't think about John.

Lacey's face popped into my mind. She hated me too and wouldn't care. And Sarah would also forget about me over time. Zoe and Carly had already forgotten about me after I quit the band. Up ahead I saw my stop, so I pulled the cord. Then I walked off the bus and toward the middle of Billings Bridge. The Rideau River flowed below it, and I stared at the swirling water for a few moments, watching its continuous run and the little blobs of ice bobbing along, bouncing into tree limbs, bouncing off again. At this time of year, the water moved quickly and was cold and deep. This was the best season for what I wanted to do.

“Go home, Indie. It is not your time yet.” Again my papa spoke to me.

“I'm tired of this, Papa. So tired. Because of who I am, I lost the one person I truly love. What does that say about me? My whole life will be one person after another leaving me because I'm weird.”

Your grandfather is correct
, said my gentle male voice.

“Shut up! Do you hear me? Just shut up and get out of my life. I hate you.”

I am here to help you
.

“But you don't help! You just make everything worse,” I said into the wind.

If you purposely try to die, you go right back to where you were. You will have to do this again, Indie. You don't have a choice. You won't pass go, you will go to a similar situation, and in that moment, you will lose your free will. Your time has not arrived yet
.

“Yeah, right. And I'm supposed to understand any of that?” I muttered. “And what is free will?” Here I was in the middle of the day, on a bridge, having a conversation with a voice from inside my head. No wonder John broke up with me. Who would blame him?

Free will is choice
.

“You won't do what you were meant to on the earth, my little sweetie pie.” said my papa.

“Don't, Papa. Don't try to talk me out of this.”

“You need to go home, Indie.”

“Why?”

“Your family is there. They love you,” said Papa.

And you haven't fulfilled your life's purpose
.

As I watched the water, my mind slowed like a toy running out of batteries. I only had enough juice to think about my family. Holidays would be a sad time for them. Thanksgiving. Would my parents cook a turkey anyway? How would Brian react to my death? We were always fighting, but we loved each other, and we were close in a funny and amazing way. He thought I was crazy and didn't believe in my visions, but for some reason, that didn't matter. He didn't judge me. And Christmas. I loved Christmas. Loved giving gifts to people. After a few years, would they even notice I was gone?

They would get over it. The world would get over it. After years had slipped by, no one would remember Indigo Russell, or if they did, it would be someone looking at my grave and saying, “She was the weird girl who died when she was a high school senior. Offed herself on Billings Bridge.” Then they would say, “Didn't she date John Smith for a while?” And someone would reply, “Yeah, but he ended up with Amber McKinnon.” No one would care, just like they didn't care about Nathan.

“Hey, look out!”

I opened my eyes to see a guy in a wheelchair flying toward me. I stepped back to get out of his way, but when he got to me, instead of zooming by, he lurched to a stop.

“Ya hanging? Perfect day, eh?” He grinned. “I'm so glad spring is going to be here soon. The snow sucks when you're in a chair. Sorry if I scared you.”

“It's okay,” I said. Right away I noticed that his legs were strapped into his chair; he was paralyzed from the waist down. I wondered if he had been born disabled or if something had happened to him.

He tilted his head and eyed me. “Are you okay?”

I stuck my hands into my pockets. “I'm fine.”

He nodded. “Life is good, y'know. We live in a great part of the world with no war or any crap like that. You get what you get. But no matter what, you have to enjoy the day.”

Then he put his hands on his wheelchair. “Well, I got to go and—”

“Enjoy the day.” I finished his sentence.

He gave me a thumbs-up, then continued to the other side of the bridge.

“This was your wake-up call, Indie. Go home, please.” Papa spoke loud and clear.

I squinted at the sun. I couldn't jump now. Not after what that guy had said.

As I walked across the bridge to my bus stop, I whispered, “You arranged that, didn't you, Papa?”

 

Chapter
Eighteen

As Sarah had assured me, within days I was no longer the topic of conversation at school. A week later, I was forgotten by everyone, including John.

Halfway through the day on Friday, I was at my locker, trying to figure out what books I needed for my next class and wondering if I should even go to class, when I smelled soap and cigarettes. My heart picked up speed. I was alone in the hall.
Would he talk to me?

I slowly turned. He was looking straight at me, but then he jerked his head so he was facing forward and walked right by.

Something about his look scared me. His eyes were bloodshot and his pupils wide. There had been a rumor floating around that John had been doing drugs all week and that he'd been getting into harder stuff. I felt sick about this and wished I could talk to him.

I slammed my locker shut without taking out a book. With my hands shoved into my pockets, I rushed outside to the smoking area. Was this pain in my chest, the continual throbbing, going to follow me forever?

Sarah, Zoe, and Carly were smoking and talking excitedly about something. As soon as I approached them, they stopped their animated conversation. Were they talking about me?

“Hi,” I said. I pulled out my cigarettes.

“Hey,” said Sarah back.

Shifty-eyed, they glanced at one another.

“What's going on?” I patted my pockets, checking for a lighter. Right away, Sarah gave me her cigarette. I took it and lit mine, inhaling deeply to get it sparked.

“Not much,” said Zoe. “We're just …” Zoe stopped mid-sentence and a weird silence hovered over us.

“Just what?” I inhaled as if I didn't care what they were talking about, but really I wanted to know. Were they talking about John and Amber?

“We were talking about the band,” said Sarah.

“And our upcoming gig,” said Carly.

“Oh,” I replied.

Carly did a little dance with her arms. “I'm so stoked and can't wait for our big debut.”

What date was it today? I tried to think. Friday, March 6. They were playing next Saturday, on March 14. The fund-raiser was being held at a community hall, and it was an afternoon event. In January, I'd quit in order to spend more time with John. And that's all I'd wanted at the time, thinking it was sweet of him to want me all to himself. But now the girls had excitement flashing in their eyes, and I had nothing.

Again silence.

I puffed on my cigarette and looked out into the distance. I had given up a lot of things for John. But it had been my decision, too. And our breakup was a result of my lying.

“You want to come and do a song with us?” Sarah asked.

“You think that's a good idea?” Carly responded before I could. Then she stared at me. “You basically dumped us for a guy. I wouldn't give up my friends for a guy. Ever.” She blew out a perfect smoke ring.

And then, as if I weren't even present, Zoe said, “She could do ‘Every Breath You Take.' We all know that one, and it was so good when we rehearsed it.”

“I gotta get to class,” I said. I quickly stubbed out my cigarette and rushed out of the smoking area. I ran into the school with my head down. Then I heard his voice, laughing like he didn't have a care in the world. And I heard her voice.

Amber.

I kept my head down and walked as fast as I could, but I guess curiosity got the best of me. I glanced up briefly to see John leaning casually against a locker and Amber standing right beside him with her talons in his belt loops. Vomit lodged in my throat.

I ran to the washroom, flung open the door, and ran to the stall. I had barely shut the door when I threw up. I sat on the toilet and wiped my mouth with toilet paper. That was the worst, most hurtful thing he could have done to me. Amber. He had hooked up with her for the
entire school
to see right after we broke up!

I cleaned myself up and went back to my locker. It was almost time for lunch, and I really wasn't hungry. I saw Lacey coming down the hall. Again I felt sick.

I just couldn't face Lacey today. I yanked out my entire backpack. I wouldn't return to my locker.

As I was rushing down the hall with my head down, I felt a tug on my arm. I turned around to see Sarah.

“Stop for a sec, okay?”

Once I was standing still in front of her, she said, “We were serious about you playing the one song with us.” Her voice was almost soothing. “Carly doesn't mean to be rude. You know she's just super independent and would never let a guy control her. That's just how she is. It would be fun to have you join us. You were part of our band until—” Sarah stopped.

I tried to smile.

“All that crap,” she said, smiling. She put her hand on my arm.

“Thanks.” I could hardly get the word out of my mouth. If I spoke, I might cry, and I didn't want to do that in the hall.

“Hey,” she said, with brightness in her voice, “I've got tickets to the Sixty-Seven's game tonight. You want to come? It'll be fun.”

When I didn't answer right away, Sarah playfully frowned at me. “You need to get out. I'm picking you up at six thirty.”

“Picking me up?”

Sarah's eyes widened. “You're so far behind. My parents gave me an old clunker car. You're going to love it!”

Sarah was right; I did love her car. It was a canary yellow Pontiac Sunbird, and she had feathers and beads hanging from the rearview mirror and some sort of colorful blankets on the seats, covering up the rusty springs.

With AC/DC's “Thunderstruck” blaring through her speakers, she sped away from the curb. “Should be a good game tonight,” she said. “Burke's team is fighting for first spot.” She pounded her steering wheel in time with the music.

“How does Amber get all the guys?” I asked, slouching in my seat and sticking my hands deep in my jacket pockets.

Sarah took her eyes off the road for a second to glance at me. “For what it's worth, I don't think John cheated on you with her when you two were together, but he's a shit for hooking up with her, like, ASAP.”

“He didn't even wait a week.”

“He wants to hurt you.” Sarah drove for a few seconds before she turned the volume down. “I've been meaning to ask you this for a few months now.”

“What?”

“Why did you dump the band? You were so into it. And we rocked!”

“John wanted to spend time with me.”

“This might not be the right time for me to say this, but I'm going to say it anyway.
That's
controlling.” Sarah turned the music up again, and I leaned back in my seat and stared at the frayed ceiling. It wasn't just him. I had given up the band, too, to be with him.

The first thing I did when we entered the arena lobby was to scan the crowd for John. I know, so sad, but so true. I did not want to run into him, especially if he was with Amber … but if he was alone, perhaps we could talk? Our first date had been at a hockey game, so there was a good chance he'd be here. Sarah and I made our way to our seats just as the Zamboni took its last loop around the ice surface and headed off. Within minutes, the lights were lowered and the refs sailed onto the ice, completing a few laps under the moving strobe lights. Then the music blared, and the announcer came over the loudspeakers to tell the crowd that the players were hitting the ice. Everyone stood up and cheered.

I watched as Burke skillfully skated onto the ice, circling around the back of the net, then out to the blue line and around again. The other night at dinner, my dad had informed me that Burke's name had recently appeared on a list as one of the top NHL draft picks. Rumor had it that Burke had had some really successful meetings with the managers of the Pittsburgh Penguins team. I remembered my drive with him and how I had seen the jersey. I really wished
that
team hadn't been the one to show interest; if it were another team, it would prove that not all the things I saw came true.

When the game started and everyone was once again seated, I spotted Lacey, looking gorgeous, sitting in the same seat as the time when I was at the game with John. I guess, in a way, I was happy for Lacey and Burke—but selfishly I wished Amber were with Burke now and not John.

I still had the silver necklace, and it wasn't tangled. If only I could give it back to Lacey. I ached inside.

Sarah leaned into me and, as if she had read my mind, said, “I can't believe Lacey still won't talk to you. It's been, like, months.”