Chapter One
I could see Cade exchange notes with Harlie in the back of the class, while Mrs. Calliope's monotone voice droned on about todays lesson.
I colored in lime-green on the skirt of the model I was doodling on my notebook. I'd drawn her with a comically long chin and curly silver hair. Most of my drawings were like that - they had one feature that made them stand out, just like real girls.
I could hear Cade laughing now, at something Harlie had said. With his chair tipped back, teetering on the brink of a fall. Ignoring the urge to ask them keep it down, I colored more fiercely on my book.
Harlie Collymore wasn't funny. She was laidback and pretty, but not funny.
I mean I was happy that Cade was happy and I thought Harlie was cool. But I wasn't happy that he was too happy with her. It was hard to explain. It was like having your two favorite things mixed together. Mine was Nutella and Egg fried rice. Alone, heavenly, but when mixed together tasted like crap.
My phone buzzed inside my bag, breaking into my thoughts. Fishing it out, the screen showed, 'Mom.'
"You're a treasure from above who brings me so much joy and love. Happy 15th birthday, Gemma! PS Your dad and I are on our way back to Tannares (We may or may not have gotten presents)." The text message read, spreading warmth within me.
Closing the text, I opened the draft I'd written last night to send to Cade. All that was left was for me to hit the send button and then Cade would know my secret. Know how deeply I'd fallen for him.
"I'd rather chew stone." I thought with a small laugh.
I'd actually rather die.
Let's be clear: I didn't mean to fall in love with my best friend. It just sort of happened, the way falling usually does. Your shoelaces get entangled or you trip on something you didn't see and then you go falling headfirst for the blonde, six-foot-something boy with eyes that saw right through you— who was there when you had diarrhea in sixth grade, math.
The moment I knew I loved Cade was last summer, when I was having a bad evening. I'd snuck out to the park but it didn't help. When I got back, he was at the front door and hugged me and there was this utter peace that just swept over me and I relaxed instantly. My body was telling my brain what I already knew: I was the worst best friend in the entire world.
"Miss Gemma." Mrs Calliope's voice startled me, making the phone jump out of my hand and land on my lap. Under her stern gaze, I managed to peer into my phone. The text message on the screen ticked 'sending'.
This had to be the first time in history that anyone was grateful for their school's crappy network reception.
"Using your cellphone during school hours is against school rules," She stated. "Hand it over."
I mentally weighed my options.
1A. Don't hand the phone over and buy time to put it on flight mode which would totally cancel the text message.
1B. Probably get a month's worth of detention.
Or,
2A. Hand it to her and have it confiscated until my parents show up.
2B. Text message delivers to Cade. He reads it, becomes instantly irritated and our eleven year old friendship is over.
Reaching down in some newly unearthed part of me, I replied, "No."
Mrs Calliope looked taken aback, and so did everyone.
"Your phone, Gemma. Immediately." Her teeth gnashed against each other as she held out a veiny arm.
My expression morphed from fear to boldness. I was within the confines of my rights, "Chapter seven of the students handbook says otherwise. Technically, students are allowed one warning before having their phones confiscated by teachers."
The classroom had gone eerily quiet now. Despite acting like I didn't care, an unexpected turmoil of thoughts began to ring up in my brain.
I had done a few rebellious things in my life—Like that one time I had a sip of my sisters forgotten, leftover blueberry juice from weeks ago or the millions of times I told every account I ever made that I was over eighteen.
But none of them topped messing with my close-to-perfect school record.
In a flash, Mrs. Calliope wrote something on a piece of paper and held it out to me. "Take this to the principals office."
With shaky fingers, I took the paper from her, flung my backpack over my shoulder, and trudged out of class. I exhaled once I was out of everyone's sight. Was this what it felt like to be edgy? I didn't like it one bit.
The word on the paper was weird. It said, 'INSUBORDINATION.' What on earth did that mean?
I canceled the text message to Cade that hadn't been delivered yet and walked down the hallway. I couldn't control the panicky thought running through my mind. I was busted - for the first time in my life. I was a model student . . . I mean, sort of. I always did my homework, never skipped a class and never got caught doing anything wrong. Now, that was about to change!
Who knew what awaited me. Suspension? Crushing disapproval from my parents? I'd spent years cultivating my reputation, and now, in a single moment of horrendous judgment, there would be a giant black mark on my permanent record!
Walking into Principal Acker's office, he was clearly surprised. He probably thought it was some kind of mistake that Mrs. Calliope sent me in.
"So, Miss Dayholt, am I understanding this correctly?" His eyes darted from the paper to me. "You disregarded authority and disrupted your history lessons?"
"Yes sir."
"Did you intend to disregard Mrs. Calliope's rules with your actions?"
"No, no sir." I blurted.
He seemed to pause for effect, staring me down as he pondered my fate. I felt as though I might lose bowel control any second. He wasn't the most intimidating of men physically, but his very presence could make even the most hardened student criminal cry, and at that moment he held my future in his hands. Or at least it felt that way to me.
Suddenly he was smiling, and shaking his head slowly back and forth. "Get out of here, Dayholt. If I recall correctly, you're not the problematic twin," He said. "And I don't want to see you back here until at least your senior year!"
I thanked him as quickly as I could, and practically ran out of his office before he changed his mind.
As the bell went for after school, I bolted out the school entrance with a sigh.
A text message popped up in my notification. It was from Averly, reading, "Hey Kyler, can you go get the girls from school and maybe take them out for ice cream? The party surprise is coming up well, the caterer just brought more sugar scones. All that's left is a few touch ups, so, buy me an hour max."
Followed by,
"Holy noodles! I didn't mean to send that to you.
The text wasn't for you, I swear! It's for my friends birthday surprise.
Omg!
Just pretend to be surprised tonight Gem! Or else Mom and Dad are going to KILL ME!
You won't want my blood on your hands, on your birthday or would you?
Love you!'
I laughed.
"It's fine Ave. Really. You're just going to have to bribe me ;)
Anyway, I'm going to the park for painting inspo, maybe tell Kyler to pick me up by 4 and I'll forget this ever happened. Love you too!" I texted in reply.
I noticed a text from Cade and my heart did a flip.
What did he want?
It was in that moment, I noticed that the confession text I had accidentally sent this morning had duplicated. And when I'd canceled, only the first one didn't go through. The second one had delivered and read by Cade since 2!
Heart in my mouth, I opened his text message.
"Are you now doing drugs?" It read. "Reply me, where are you? I'll find you."
"I'm heading to Undergrove Park, Cade. Don't come, I was only using your number to test how to confess my feelings to boys." I texted back lamely.
"Okay, be safe." He replied. "And what was that about in class?"
Maybe he bought it? I mean he was Cade . . . Of course he bought it! Cade was clueless.
But right there, standing in the chaos of the parking lot, I promised to never risk letting Cade know how I truly felt. Our friendship was far more important. Already drenched in sweat, I started my walk up the hill that separated Barnes-street from the Undergrove park.
***
I spotted an old lady in a taupe dress sitting on the bench across from me. She was holding a plate of brown rice and eating from it. Wait, she wasn't eating, she was struggling to pop a spoonful into her mouth but her fingers kept fidgeting. She hadn't taken a single bite.
Had she had anything to eat all day?
The thought filled me with unease. Was that why everyone was walking along the path behind her, and not the major path which was directly across her bench?
Wordlessly, I slid into the space next to her.
"Hello, I'm Gemma. Can I help out?" I motioned towards her plate. She nodded with a grateful smile. Taking the spoon, I scooped an amount of food from the plate and into her mouth. Waiting until she finished chewing until I gave her another one.
"Thank you so much."
"You don't have to." I tossed the empty paper plate into the trash and melted onto the warm bench.
"You can call me Dolores."
"I'm Gemma." I smiled.
"I'm sorry for spoiling your afternoon, Gemma. The doctors asked me not to leave my caregivers supervision, but I'm trying to prove that my Carpal Tunnel Syndrome is not as bad as they make it seem . . . I'm failing woefully at that, aren't I?"
"Nope," I replied quickly. "I think your body's working just fine."
She laughed. One short exhale.
We sat in silence. I was watching a flock of birds chirping around the small pond, when Kyler's call came into my phone. "I'm outside, Gem." He stated.
"Okay, coming." I smiled.
"I have to go, Dolores." I said, dusting my pants. "Do you need any help getting home?"
"My granddaughter is coming to get me at five." She waved me off.
As I started walking, her voice came behind me, "Life's a wonderful mess, Gemma. Bad things happen, and sometimes the bad times overwhelm the good. But whatever happens, promise me that it won't break your spirit?"
"Nothing can, I promise." I said breezily.
I was already out the gates when I reached for my phone and couldn't retrieve it. Realizing I'd left it back on the bench, I jogged to get it. My phone was lying on the bench but Dolores wasn't there. In fact, she wasn't in the park. Maybe she'd gone to use the tiny private restroom in the distance.
But as I walked past the restroom, it was locked. From outside.
A dark sports car pulled up beside me, and a warm buzz traveled through me.
The window rolled down, revealing my older brother, Kyler, in all his laidback glory, "Happy birthday LQ. I got you land in the countryside. It's about 300 acres, of highly sorted land."
LQ was short for Little Queen. Kyler gave me the nickname when we were younger because he thought our parents calling me Princess sounded icky. I guess everyone just went along with it.
"Thank you so much Kyler . . . I'll assume you're joking about the gift part," I playfully rolled my eyes and slipped into the front seat. When I realized he wasn't joking, I changed the topic. "Where's Sadie?"
"She's over at Aubree's." As he drove into the road, I shuffled through the available radio stations to pick out something hearable. Trust Kyler to not have a car playlist.
Pausing on a station, it was static. I almost changed it before a reporters voice, came barreling, ''It has reached us that Airholt 106, the Private Jet which was supposedly flying Aspen Dayholt, Ivanna Dayholt and the entire entourage, including guests from the US Embassy back to Tannares, has crashed in a deserted location in the forested region of New Hampshire. Direct forensic reports have shown that there are no survivors—"
The words; 'Aspen and Ivanna Dayholt' and 'No survivors,' flowed over me and vibrated in the deepest part of my soul. Goosebumps scattered across my skin.
No. The reporter had made a mistake! Mom and Dad were on their way home and the people on the radio were a different Aspen and Ivanna.
"Their cells are off. The both of them." Kyler was looking at me, but his gaze was empty.
Dark thoughts passed through my mind like cowled shadows. They were returning for mine and Sadie's birthday today. My birthday.
If I wasn't so selfish. If only I'd told them not to return today— Told them that my birthday wasn't important.
"No," I said angrily. I closed my eyes as tears began to form. "They set their phones on flight mode. They're on their way back to us, you'll see."
Maybe if I turned off the radio, there wouldn't be any news. My parents would come back healthy and strong and we would laugh about it over a plate of cake. We'd laugh because this wasn't real.
This was a bad dream.
"I'll just turn off the radio." I said shakily. I tapped the sound-off button but it wouldn't budge, the reporter was still droning on about details of the crash. Suddenly, I found myself punching the dashboard repeatedly. And then someone stopped me.
A sequence of voices broke into my head and I couldn't tell whether it was a delusion or reality. A stormy voice incessantly and rhythmically repeated; "Of course she's gone into shock, I'm not blind. I'll lift her. Get off! I can lift my own sister, damn it!"
***
