CHAPTER 7
"Elena, are you going to turn in your report or not?"
I blinked and rubbed my face. I'd been distracted. Grabbing the report I'd placed on my desk, I went to submit it to Mr. Zimmerman's desk. He took it into his pile with an expressionless façade.
I went back to my seat.
"We're going to learn about Magnetism today. Anyone had any idea what it's about?"
A guy raised up his hand. "Like Magneto and Wolverine?"
The class broke into laughter.
"Well, I've printed out the list of our materials for the coming project. Mr. Sanders, please share the copies to your friends."
Armand got up and began giving out slips of white paper to each of us. When he passed me, his face gave out no sign to acknowledge what had happened two nights before.
"The deadline is at the end of the semester. Extra credits will be given for the ones who succeeded in completing the project on time, no quota. And let me remind you, this is an individual project."
Everyone else groaned, but I was relieved. I'd never been good about any group project. I tended to mess up a lot. At least if I had an individual project, then the mess I was responsible for was only my own. Which wasn't a comforting thought, but still better than the alternative.
Slipping the paper inside of my textbook, I folded my arms and rested my face on them. Physics was so boring sometimes. I thought I'd just close my eyes for a minute, and drown the annoying voices out. The breeze from the window stirred my hair softly. Some birds chirping and it would be perfect. It had been awhile since I last felt so relaxed.
Before I knew it, I was fast asleep.
It was a wolf.
Running by my side, nudging me with its muzzle in the breezy noon. A black wolf. But it didn't hurt me, and I saw its eyes—a pair of human eyes. I trusted it completely. It turned its head to look at me, as if to say, "What are you still doing back there? Come follow me." I went to it, smiling.
He led me through a dark tunnel. There was a light at the end of the tunnel, and I wondered for a second if it was where I would go when I died. But the wolf kept beckoning its head at me. I followed him to the light.
The tunnel behind me was gone. I was in the meadow. I saw myself, or at least a girl who looked like me, with a man with his back to me. I recognized the place—I had no doubt that the guy was Duane. This was clearly a dream I'd had before. But I was seeing it now through a third person's eyes.
"Eiko," I heard the girl who could be me say, "means eternity."
I couldn't breathe.
I turned to the wolf with the human eyes. Gray eyes.
I woke up at the sound of Mr. Zimmerman's voice.
"Elena Cadwell," his voice boomed. "Go wash you face."
I didn't check my face for drool. My mind was still in my dreams. As I went away in daze, I felt Armand's eyes on me.
I stared at the reflection in the mirror. It was me. It was me in that dream. It couldn't have been a memory. I was found in the woods when I was fifteen. In the dream the girl was at least my age now, if not older by a year or two. I'd heard about this before, how the mind could make up thousands of stories just to rationalize with the impossible. Am I going crazy? I wondered.
"Hey, what are you doing here?"
I turned. I recognized the voice.
"Oh, hi, Sylvie."
She twirled her blond hair around her finger. Everyone knew Sylvie was the most beautiful girl in our school. She was the head cheerleader, the student president, the prom queen—just perfect. And she wasn't nasty to me, which was all I cared about.
"Got kicked out of the class?" she asked me.
"Mr. Zimmerman," I explained. "Got caught asleep in his class."
A smirk twisted her full lips. "Got that once, too. The old rot."
"What about you? Restroom break?"
"Nah." She looked at her own reflection in the mirror, inspecting her own profile. "Just bored. Got a hall pass for club meeting. It got canceled, so here I am."
I shrugged. "It's almost the time for the next period anyway."
"What have you got for next?"
"Er..." I dug my memory. "History. Mr. Harrington."
"Cool." She made a face. "I've got English."
"With Mrs. Thames?"
"Yeah." Her expression changed. "Hey, have you seen the new guy? Armand's cousin?"
Sylvie had had a crush on Armand in forever. It was a common knowledge for anyone who went to our school. "Duane? He's in my next class, in fact."
"Right. I heard he had a crush on you."
My eyebrows rose. "You're not the first person to say that. Where did that notion come from? We never even talked."
"Don't you know the saying 'admiring from afar, too shy to approach'?"
"He doesn't even look at me."
Sylvie sighed. "I know that feeling."
Her gaze turned wistful, distant. I imagined she was thinking about Armand. I looked at my own reflection in the mirror. I wasn't unattractive, but I wasn't anything like Sylvie. I had distinguishing Asian descent features, and I was striking enough. But I couldn't be beautiful enough to have the attention of someone like Duane.
The bell rang.
"Gotta go," I told her. "I left my books in the class."
"Me too. Bye, Lena."
I dropped the bundle on his side of desk before sitting down.
When he came into the classroom and sat on his place, he didn't question me directly. His fingers grasped the fabric of the jacket for awhile, and then he asked, "What's this?"
His voice. That voice.
"Armand's jacket. You're his cousin, right? Please give it to him. I forgot just now."
Duane was still staring at the jacket. "How can it be with you?"
"He gave me the jacket at Lucy's party." And then the question sank in. "I mean, it's not like that. My dress was ruined, so he offered his jacket."
It was only after I finished the sentence that I wondered why I had the need to explain at all. It wasn't like he was my boyfriend or anything. Not even close.
He finally put the jacket into his bag. I took the chance to get a good look at him. The gray eyes—they were no doubt what I'd seen in my dreams. But a wolf? My mind must be seriously messed up.
And then that name. Eiko. I just had to ask.
"Duane," I said. His name rolled in my tongue as if it wasn't the first time I'd addressed him with it.
He didn't quite look at me, but responded. "Yes?"
How was I going with this without sounding needy? There was no way. "That night—right before school started. You...visited Ollie's. The back of the restaurant. Do you remember?"
He didn't answer. My face burned in humiliation. Maybe it had all been a dream. Or a storm-induced hallucination.
But then he finally answered. "I do."
My breathing stopped. "You remember what you called me?"
"Eiko."
The name rolled in his tongue just right. It felt so right. "Why did you call me that? Did you mistake me for someone else? Was that why you..."
Was that why you kissed me?
But I didn't finish my sentence.
Duane turned his head, and finally fixed those gray eyes at me. Wind and smile and sunlight and woods flashed in my mind. "I didn't mistake you for someone else. It's your name."
The sound of blood rushing roared through my ears. My heart pounded so hard that my chest almost hurt. "Before I had the amnesia?" I swallowed as I studied his expression. "You know. You're someone who knew me from...before."
"Yes."
The confession changed everything. Maybe I wasn't going crazy after all. Maybe this was what my mind had been warning me, just with different images.
"You just moved here," I said, as I realized the truth of it. "You moved here because you found me."
I heard him breathe as much as I saw his chest rise and fall. "Yes."
"Who was I, then?" My voice was barely a whisper. "Who were my parents? Why haven't they come to find me? Who were you to me?"
"I can't tell you." The words spoken were soft, but there was a firm decision in them.
"Why—"
My question was interrupted when the class began. We sat there in silence. I felt my hand grip my pencil so tight, it could break. I was inches away from the answers. The one who could tell me who I am was just right beside me, and he had just said that he couldn't.
A wet spot formed on my notebook. Another followed. I didn't bother to wipe the tears.
It was my right to weep on my lost past.
Thank you for reading!
Vote or comment...please? :)