Part 44:
I lay face-down on my bed, sobbing stormily. As rude as I had been, and as much of a disappointment to my parents as I was, I still couldn’t get past the pain that the news brought.
I am moving to Canada. No Grace, no Jake. No Jay or Jeremy or Mark. These thoughts only brought on more waves of tears until I felt like I’d cried enough to fill a bathtub. Vainly, I tried to cheer myself up.
No Ivy League. No Ellen. I sniffed, not really feeling comforted. It wasn’t in me to walk away from a fight. And where does Nate fit in? a small part of me asked. Did the thought of leaving him behind cheer me up, or make it even harder to go? I didn’t know.
Feeling utterly miserable, I cried and cried until my lips became numb, a massive headache threatened to explode, and my body ached from exhaustion. I strained, trying to hear the sounds from downstairs. It seemed quiet.
About a million different plans raced through my mind. Some involved fake kidnappings, ransom notes, a bit of torture, a rather clever way to fake my death and leaving a note asking to be buried in California, and even elopement. I wondered how much I would have to bully Jake before he agreed to go along with my plan of us getting married because of an imaginary baby on its way.
My scheming was interrupted by an unholy ruckus arousing downstairs. The sounds were familiar – my brothers were wrestling. Bitterly I wondered how Julie reacted to that. Shocked, probably, while my parents calmly looked on from the sidelines.
The sight of my doorknob slowly twisting open gave me a scare. Before I could think, I was gripping the nearest thing I could find in case I needed a weapon. My eyes widened when my uncle sheepishly walked in.
He looked surprised to see me, eyes swollen, clutching a bottle of nail polish.
“Erm,” he said awkwardly. “Am I interrupting?”
I shrugged, not looking at my uncle and tossing the bottle on my cluttered bedside table. It was amazing how quickly I messed up my room, even with Rebecca cleaning it every day.
“Listen,” he began gently. “I never meant for you to be sent away. It was never my plan.”
He went on when I didn’t respond. “I’ve truly enjoyed having you here, Courtney. You’re my niece, and as crazy as you sometimes make life, it was a good change. For the first time, I found myself having fun, laughing with you. Well, mostly at you, but you didn’t need to know that,” he said hastily. “Every time, I was actually looking forward to coming home. It never used to be like that.”
I looked at him, crossing my legs on my bed.
“I know that you and Julie don’t get along,” he probed. I shifted, refusing to look at him. “But she’s willing to give you a chance if you’d do the same for her.”
I gave a mental snort. It’s a bit rich that Julie is willing to give me a chance, when I was here first. The next moment I realized how childish that sounded, almost like I was getting territorial. But in truth, Julie was plunked in Leslie’s rightful spot, and I didn’t like it.
How do you know it’s her rightful spot? Maybe Isaac is really happy with Julie, and you’re messing everything up for him.
I remained quiet and so did my uncle. Below the fight was in full swing, and I distinctly heard something crash to the floor. My parents would not be happy with the little monsters once their sibling rage was over.
My uncle must have sensed a different kind of quiet from me, feeling that I was considering what he told me. I sensed a light at the end of the tunnel.
“If I promise to be nicer to Julie,” I began cautiously, my nose scrunching up at how hard that sounded, “does that mean you won’t send me away?” I asked hopefully.
It wasn’t like I was exchanging my life in California for Leslie’s life with my uncle. Nope, I would be quite nice to Julie, but I’d still work on Operation Leslie. It would just have to happen in a let’s-go-for-a-walk-uncle-Isaac-oh-whoops-look-it’s-Leslie-what-a-coincidence kind of way.
My uncle hesitated. “That’s not up to me to decide, Courtney. It’s your parents’ choice. They’ve really been worried about you, it seems like you took your antics to the extreme side.”
I ignored the last part. “Well I know my parents have a say in this, but don’t I have a say, too? It’s my life; I’m going to have to start living it all over again when they drag me back to Canada.”
Okay, so I had friends back in Canada, who were crazy enough to suit my tastes. Carmen in particular was like Satan’s Mistress. But I’d grown to love Sunny C, the people in it even more, and it made my heart hurt to leave it.
My uncle sighed, smoothing back my hair. Tears sprang to my eyes, and I wiped them away. My sweet, kind, gentle uncle Isaac. He had more right than anyone to be angry with me, and yet he was the one here comforting me, sneaking upstairs under cover of the almighty fight going on below.
“We’ll talk about this later, all right?” he said, rising. “We’ve got two weeks of break to convince your parents and change their minds.”
“We?” I perked up, happy beyond words for such a powerful ally.
He winked at me. “You need to help me out, though.”
“I’ll do it,” I said dramatically.
A tiny frown appeared between his eyes. “That means acting more responsible, mature, and staying out of trouble,” he finished as sternly as possible for uncle Isaac to be.
“Ahh...” I said, “That complicates things,” I commented, thinking on the extensive list I had planned on my To Do Before Being Deported list.
My uncle levelled his gaze with me and I heaved a sigh. “Oh, all right.”
He nodded. We both froze, hearing sounds of conversation once more.
My uncle cleared his throat. “Well I’d better get down there and pretend to be heart-broken over some hideous family heirloom that they broke,” he excused himself. He closed the door quietly behind him and I heard his steps descending the Staircase of Doom.
I fell backwards onto my bed, staring hard at my ceiling. So things weren’t great. But I had hope, and I had uncle Isaac. I fully intended on making those things count for all they were worth.
***
“Your Diabolical Evilness,” Jake greeted me solemnly the next morning, giving me a sweeping bow. “Welcome to Hell.”
I stepped out of my car, having driven myself to school today. I was in one of my funny moods, and preferred to have my car with me in case I needed a quick getaway without the inconvenience of waiting for Larry to pick me up.
“Kiss my feet,” I commanded Jake imperiously, and he made a show of dropping to his knees and covering my legs with his head. Grace rolled her eyes, standing beside Jay and Jeremy.
I wouldn’t be returning home today after school. Instead, every actor in the play was pulled out of their last periods early for last rehearsals, fittings, and revision. Later in the evening, when six o’clock rolled around, people would begin streaming into Thornwell Academy to watch our play. My family would be there, but I refused to think about that.
Yesterday, after my uncle had left my room, I hadn’t come out of my room. When my father came up, I hid in my enormous walk-in closet. He had come in to look for me, and had then walked out, scratching his head. I’d been behind the mannequin the whole time.
“How may I serve you?” Jake asked from somewhere in my navel area, which was quite awkward.
I studied him for a moment, gazing up at me with a poker face before I snapped my fingers. “Off with his head.”
Jake got up and said in his normal voice, “No, but seriously. How are you feeling?”
For a split second I wondered how he could have known about my impending move to Canada, but then I realized he was talking about the play.
“The less said, the better,” I scowled, and moved towards the school. Somehow, I ended up flat on my face, gazing blearily around me. “Mother of pearl,” I muttered.
Someone was laughing their butt off above me, and it took me a few seconds to realize that Jake’s whole act on his knees had been about tying my shoelaces together.
Flipping over, I sat up painfully and began to unknot them while Jake choked on his laughter. All I could hear from him was the occasional word of “epic.”
“Jacob Howe,” I said calmly, struggling with a knot, “here’s how it’s going to work: first, I will kick your butt clear through your mouth before shattering your coccyx. And while you’re rolling around on the floor, I will simulate your disembowelment.”
Gosh, I loved Get Smart.
Sometime during my speech, Jake sobered up. By the time I was on my feet, Jake was nowhere in sight. I dusted myself off, taking my bag that Jeremy had picked up for me.
Grace linked her arm through mine, struggling not to grin. “You okay?”
“Of course, I just love having my face introduced to concrete this early in the morning.”
Grace snickered.
The rest of the day passed in a blur. English and Gym were with Grace. I vented some of my feelings by purposefully hitting the baseballs towards where Ariel and Thing Two stood, gossiping on the field. I enjoyed watching them jump, and run squealing in the opposite direction of the ball. Coach Harris got so frustrated with them that she gave them a good yelling for not participating. Ariel glared at me the whole time, but immediately afterwards I was pitcher. I swung my hand, letting the ball fly out of my hand backwards, away from the batter and smacking Thing Two perfectly in the eye.
It turned a glorious shade of black, right in time for the play this evening. After that, both of them stayed far away from me, taking outfield positions.
Before I knew it, it was time for Math, and after that, Lunch. Jake spent both those periods avoiding me as much as possible. Finally, it was time for Chemistry. My one and only class with Nate.
I walked in, face blank. At least, so I hoped. For the past few weeks, I had scowled and coldly ignored the gorgeous boy with the ruffled hair sitting beside me. Now, however, I sat down normally. I looked at Nate, really looked at him for the first time in weeks. He wasn’t looking at me, but had his head down on his binders.
His whole body looked worn, somehow. Tired. Sad. I wanted desperately to know for sure that I wasn’t imagining it, to know that Nate cared about what had happened.
I turned to face the class, and Nate lifted his head when the teacher started talking. When there was half an hour left of class before the end of the day, a student popped their head into our doorway.
“Any players in here?” she asked mischievously. I gave a grin.
“All participants in the Hunchback of Notre Dame play – away with you,” our teacher commanded. Nate and I got up, but we were the only ones.
The girl who had come to fetch us told us to go to the theatre while she continued on to other classrooms. That left Nate and I alone in the hallway.
He seemed unsure of what to do. There was no one else to talk to, because everyone was still in class. And if I had wanted to avoid him, I would have sped up and left him behind. Uncertainly, his stride fell in with mine.
I kept my eyes straight ahead, having the unfortunate incident of closing someone’s locker with my face before. Surprisingly, it was Nate who broke the silence.
“You’re bleeding,” his tone was disbelieving. I looked around, frowning.
“Huh?” was my brilliant response.
In answer, he pointed at my elbow. I’d somehow missed the scrape all day, even at lunch and even while changing for gym. It was a pretty long scrape, too, though the blood had dried by this point. It still didn’t look pretty and I could see dirt on it.
“Come here,” Nate took me gently by my upper arm, leading me over to a nearby water fountain. He made me wait while he went into the boys’ washroom, and came out carrying rolls of paper towels.
“You should probably see the nurse,” he said, focusing entirely on my cut which began to sting as he began to wet the clotted wound.
I shook my head firmly. “I don’t want to. It’ll make me late for rehearsal, and we have four and a half hours alone with Williamson until the actual play. I don’t want to make her mad. Besides, the nurse will probably bandage it, and it will look bad with my costume.”
“But it could get infected,” he protested. The sting was fading to a dull throb, and I finally felt his warm, rough fingers as they gently cleaned it. It made me burn, and not because of the pain.
“The open air will make it heal faster,” I said defiantly.
Nate’s green eyes briefly flickered up to meet mine before he nodded, letting go of me. “Okay, then. We’d better go if we don’t want to be late.”
Throwing out the bloodied towels in the trash, he set off, giving me the option of ignoring him, or catching up with him.
I caught up with him, and silent relief seemed to roll off him in waves. He cleared his throat nervously, holding a door open for me to pass through.
“How did you get hurt?” he asked.
I scowled at the memory. “Jake was being an imbecile, tied my shoelaces together.”
Nate’s jaw clenched in that incredibly sexy, familiar way, “Wasn’t he thinking about how he hurt you?” he demanded.
I shrugged, caught off-guard by Nate’s concern. I told myself he felt that way about any girl. “He did it for a laugh. I haven’t been laughing as much lately.”
Immediately I sensed the guilt that Nate was feeling, and I gave myself a mental slap.
“Ow. Good grief,” I muttered, realizing that I’d actually slapped myself. Luckily, Nate didn’t seem to notice; he seemed really brooding.
This play would already be hard enough, going from us barely talking to passionately kissing onstage in a matter of hours. I didn’t need to make it harder. Besides, I’d decided to forgive him.
It occurred to me then that it was a ridiculously long walk from my Chemistry class to the theatre. I gave a little sigh of relief when we came in sight of the double doors. Nate noticed my sigh, and held the door for me once more.
Four and a half hours, I told myself. Then the play in front of an audience. After that, one less thing would be tying me down to California. At this point, I didn’t know how anything would work out. Only one thing was in my hands.