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WHEN her alarm awoke Lizzy at the proper time, her mood was as sour as a lemon. She hit the snooze button subconsciously with her mind half devoured in a dream, muttering execrations under her breath before smashing her pillow against her ear as an attempt to obscure all the noise that she knew would soon come her way. A few moments later, Lizzy was sound asleep once again, the orchestra of her breathing and heartbeat intertwining until they were harmonious. The creases etching her face that were caused by stress smoothed over as she relaxed.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Lizzy's mother was concocting a scrumptious breakfast (scrambled eggs, bacon, golden toast, and homemade strawberry jam). While she hummed some childhood lullaby to herself, she set out three plates—one for Lizzy, another for her son Logan, and another for her husband. Her ears perked up like a dog's tail when she heard commotion from upstairs, broadcasting that her family was on the move; however, Lizzy's mother knew that she had to double-check to see if her daughter, Lizzy, was up yet. More often than not, Lizzy would sleep as long as she was able (and could get away with). This habit usually resulted in Lizzy gaining a tardy at school, which would eventually lead to detention of Lizzy wasn't careful.
Lizzy's mother ascended the carpeted staircase and strolled down the hallway of the second floor. She waved to Logan who was busy brushing his teeth in the bathroom; her husband, who was ambling out of their bedroom at the same moment, brushed beside her, giving Lizzy's mother a peck on the cheek and a knowing gaze toward Lizzy's bedroom. Lizzy's mother sighed and nodded, reaffirming what her husband already understood. "Good luck waking up the beast," he told her with a playful grin.
Lizzy's mother rolled her eyes and crossed her arms but smiled nonetheless. Her husband always had that effect on her, despite her efforts to be serious around him. "I wouldn't have had to if you hadn't let her go out with her friends yesterday. On a school night of all days."
His hands automatically flew up in surrender before they became preoccupied with adjusting his striped tie. "Oh, sure, blame the cool dad who was trying to let his daughter have some fun for once."
"You'd have to ask your daughter about that one," Lizzy's mother responded, referring to her husband's mention of being a "cool dad."
"It's okay, honey. One of us has to be the cruel, disciplinary parent." With that, Lizzy's father sped down the stairs before his wife had a chance to ask him to do the honors of knocking on Lizzy's bedroom door.
After taking a deep breath and mentally preparing herself for her daughter's rotten morning temper, Lizzy's mother gently knocked on the door. "Lizzy, sweetheart, it's time to get up. It's time for school." There was no muttering in response or any sort of noise from within Lizzy's room. One of Lizzy's eyes cracked open like an egg but her mind was still lost in the labyrinth of dreams. Her mother knocked again, louder this time but still on the verge of caution.
"Just a few more minutes," Lizzy mumbled, her hands reaching for her turquoise blanket so that she could tuck it snugly over her head—maybe then she'd be able to drown out her mother's voice that was endeavoring to lull her into reality. Lizzy's mother, who wasn't in the mood for her daughter's games, stealthily entered the room and quietly tiptoed to the window. Gilded rays of sunlight filtered through the window's blinds, showering Lizzy's figure in soft light. It was not enough to wake Lizzy so her mother yanked up the blinds, completely immersing Lizzy in the blinding morning sun.
Lizzy's mother stood back with her hands on her hips, waiting to see if her daughter was moving yet; she wasn't. Lizzy's mother sighed and poised her hands on the edge of Lizzy's favorite turquoise blanket that she was using to conceal her face. "I wish I didn't have to do this but you leave me no choice," her mother murmured almost inaudibly before wrenching the blanket from Lizzy and leaving her exposed to the intense daylight shining from the window.
Lizzy's eyes immediately flew open and she shrieked as though the sunlight was harming her—like she was a vampire. Lizzy's mother rolled her eyes at her daughter's exaggerated reaction. "No more night outs with friends if this is how you're going to act." Lizzy curled up into a ball, moaning and groaning, as her body and mind slowly rose from their wonderful slumber. Lizzy swore that the world was ending in that moment with a dizzying pain flashing through her head and her glorious dreams vanishing beneath her eyelids.
"Oh my gosh, I'm dying. I think I'm really dying," Lizzy lamented, her arms masking her sensitive eyes from the violent light, her legs rustling overtop her covers as she tried to find comfort in the rather uncomfortable situation. Unfortunately, before Lizzy could be eased back into luxurious sleep, her mother forced Lizzy's arm away from her eyes. Lizzy thrashed against her mother's tight grip. Lizzy's eyes were completely exposed to the dazzling morning light—shining through her thin eyelids—and she knew that it was over. Her life was over. It was the end.
"You're not dying, Elizabeth," Lizzy's mother scolded, mentioning her daughter's real birth name. Lizzy's real name was only used when her mother was very upset and annoyed. Lizzy, however, ignored her mother's threatening tone; instead, she continued to struggle against her mother who was trying to get her lazy daughter out of bed. "You've got to go to school whether you want to or not." Lizzy's mother grunted with strain while she pulled her daughter's arm—as tenderly as she could but her patience was slowly withering away like a rock eroding in a river.
After a few moments of yanking on Lizzy's arm, Lizzy's mother gave up, throwing her hands up in the air exasperatedly and wiping a few beads of sweat from her forehead. "Fine! No more night outs!" Lizzy mumbled incoherently, not bothered by her mother's first punishment idea. "Okay then," Lizzy's mother said to herself, her eyes scanning the room for one of her daughter's treasures to take away. She had to be creative with Lizzy; there wasn't much she was too attached to—except for sleep.
"No more sleeping," Lizzy's mother told her daughter firmly. She watched carefully to see what Lizzy's reaction was going to be. On cue, Lizzy slowly rose from her position on the bed, her head facing the wall. Her wild, frizzy hair stood on end as though it had been electrocuted. Her head steadily rotated until her eyes met her mother's. Both Lizzy's and her mother's eyes had narrowed into slits, each silently challenging the other.
"Ugh, fine," Lizzy groaned when she realized that her mother was completely serious and unmoving. She finally climbed out of bed and shuffled sulkily to her wooden dresser to find an outfit for the day. Lizzy's mother beamed in triumph like a thousand lightning bugs all glowing at the exact same moment.
"Don't be late for breakfast," Lizzy's mother mentioned cheerfully, her mood skyrocketing as her daughter's plummeted. Her mother secretly allowed herself to hope that maybe this time Lizzy wouldn't put up a nasty fight.
"Don't count on it," Lizzy mumbled almost inaudibly, her chin resting in the palm of her hand as she stared at the clothes in her top drawer.
Lizzy's mother raised an eyebrow, a smirk flaring across her lips like a camera flash. Lizzy knew that look. She'd seen it all too often when she disobeyed and her mother had a perfect punishment rolled up her sleeve; however, these threats that her mother was conjuring about her sleep were a little too perfect in Lizzy's eyes—It was even more dangerous than her usual punishments of grounding. Lizzy loved her sleep more than anything, and if her mother took that time, that special moment when everything slipped away, those special hours when nothing mattered—if she took that all away, Lizzy would be left with nothing. Nothing to look forward to after a long day of lectures; nothing to escape to when meteorites of life seemed to be crashing around her; nothing to cling to whenever she felt alone.
Nothing.
"Well then, if your bed somehow finds its way into a dumpster, don't come crawling to me," Lizzy's mother said breezily, making her way to the door.
Lizzy's eyes narrowed, an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach—the kind she'd usually get before she'd get sick. "You wouldn't."
Lizzy's mother sighed and closed her eyes, blocking the view of her daughter's simultaneously outraged and forlorn face. "I don't want to be the villain, Lizzy, but you don't listen to me. I love you very, very much, but there needs to be some discipline in this house or else you wouldn't get out of bed ever. You don't react to any other punishment and I've tried everything, Lizzy. Everything. I didn't want it to come to this. Trust me, I didn't. But I also don't want to drag you out of bed every single morning for school and have you talk back to me and argue with me all the time. It gets tedious and besides, it's time for you to grow up a little. Okay?"
Lizzy averted her eyes from her mother's loving, penetrating gaze and stared at her feet. Sure, she hadn't been the most cooperate child, but did her mother really have to go to such extreme measures as to take away her sleep?
Lizzy's mother sighed, aged lines creasing her face more prominently than before, it seemed to Lizzy. And she had been the cause of them. Lizzy gulped, suddenly feeling ashamed of all the pain she caused her mother. "Just remember Tuesday of last week. That's all I ask."
Lizzy flinched. Her mother was right; Lizzy never listened to her and they did have many quarrels in the morning, concerning Lizzy. Tuesday hadn't been one of her best days. Their bickering had escalated to a full-fledged argument, resulting in Lizzy chucking pillows. Unfortunately, rage consumed Lizzy until all she could see was red and she might have accidently thrown her lamp at her mother as well. Lizzy was very, very lucky that she missed and hit the wall instead.
"Sorry, Mom. I'll try to be better," Lizzy called to her mother before she could slip through the doorway, her eyes flickering to the dent in her wall. Lizzy's mother gaze softened and she grazed her daughter's cheek with her hand before pulling her into a loving embrace.
"I love you. And just for the record, I wouldn't have thrown your bed into a dumpster," her mother whispered in Lizzy's ear.
Lizzy just laughed. "I knew you wouldn't. You're too soft on me."
With that, Lizzy raced to the bathroom to get ready, her mother trailing behind with a roll of her eyes.
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"Another person went missing yesterday in Illinois," Teagan commented at lunch before digging into her buttered mashed potatoes.
Mateo rolled his eyes, his expression full of disbelief. "Tell me you're not on this topic again, T," he told pale girl with short, cropped midnight hair and almond-shaped eyes.
Teagan turned to Lizzy for support but the latter just shrugged, picking through a pile of refried beans (that she hated with a passion). Teagan sighed dramatically, rotating her attention back to her Hispanic friend. "I like mysteries, dude. Shoot me for trying to get research for my own novel."
Mateo raised an eyebrow, his hand snaking through his chocolate, curly hair. "Was that pun intended?"
Teagan's eyes flashed daggers at him. "Are you intending to annoy me?"
Lizzy ignored their banters, peeking at her phone from underneath the table. The unknown number hadn't replied yet, but her phone informed her that the person read the messages. For some unknown and unexplainable reason, Lizzy didn't want to block the stranger's number. Not yet. Not until she knew he was going to be okay.
"Lizzy, do you think my interest in mysteries is childish?" Teagan complained from across the table, a pout glossing her pink lips.
Lizzy snapped out of her daze and quickly slid her phone back into her front backpack pocket. "What? Mateo's childish?"
Mateo playfully smacked her bare forearm before sulkily turning to his half-eaten apple. "Not me, stupid. Teagan and her unhealthy obsession with death."
Teagan rolled her eyes again, her hands curling into fists as they rested on the table. "At least I don't have an unhealthy obsession with Paisley."
Mateo's jaw seemed to drop to the floor, his eyes narrowing into slits as he glared at Teagan, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. "I came out here to have a good time and, honestly, I'm feeling very attacked right now." He stood up, grabbed his lunch tray, and fled the cafeteria, vanishing into the hallway like a magician.
"That boy makes me so hangry sometimes," Teagan grumbled once Mateo left. She brushed her silky hair from her eyes before munching on a baby carrot.
Lizzy yawned, forcing herself to stay awake. Those early morning texts she received from that unknown number were really taking a toll on her. She couldn't wait to collapse into her bed after school and take a well-deserved nap. "Hangry?" she asked Teagan, pushing away her lunch tray because her appetite had disappeared.
"Hungry. Angry. Mateo makes me both hungry and angry," Teagan responded with a scowl; however, Lizzy didn't miss the way Teagan glanced back toward the hallway, the way her fingers longingly reached toward the place where he once sat. A sigh fell from Teagan's lips softly like a snowflake, all her irritation toward him fading into fatigue and dull ache.
Lizzy winked at her friend, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "You really need to talk to him about this crush of yours, T."
Smears of ruby appeared on Teagan's face, her eyesight averted to the floor. "You know I can't talk to him about it. He has that thing for Paisley," she said with disgust.
"Fighting with him all the time isn't going to make him fall in love with you," Lizzy pointed out. A familiar buzz vibrated in her backpack, the tremors from her phone creating goosebumps on her skin. She knew that it signaled a new text message. Lizzy bit her tongue and clamped down on her excitement with a bear trap; first, she had to be a good friend to Teagan. Then, she could see what this new text message read. She crossed her fingers, arms, and toes, secretly praying it was from the unknown number. She told herself it was because she wanted to block that number once and for all and return to her calm nights of rest, but deep down she knew that it was because curiosity ruled her anticipation.
A warning whispered in the back of her brain, reminding her of her mother's quiet tone of voice that she used when she knew that Lizzy was going to make a bad decision and tried to make Lizzy see reason—the right decision—all on her own. Curiosity killed the cat, it murmured and lingered, waiting to observe Lizzy's reaction.
A new voice, smug and rebellious, rose in defiance like a warrior ready for battle. But satisfaction brought it back.
"Are you even listening to me right now?" Teagan wondered, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.
"Sorry," Lizzy replied sheepishly, tugging on the ends of her super curly hair. "I had a rough night last night. Got woken up by this stupid unknown number."
Teagan nodded in understanding, placing her slim, moisturized (she loved lotion) hand on Lizzy's. "Sorry, Liz. I know how much you love sleep. Going out last night probably didn't help either."
"We just went bowling. We weren't even gone that long and it was really fun."
The bell rang, its sound resonating off the hallways like a cannon going off. "I had fun too." Teagan smiled, her almond-shaped eyes shining, twin full moons, as she delightfully considered last night's events. Seriousness soon overcame her features, her teeth gently biting her bottom lip. "Don't talk to Mateo about...me and my feelings. I want us to come together on our own—if we're meant to be."
Lizzy stood on her own two feet, slung her backpack over her shoulder, and followed the crowd of students heading to their next class. "I won't. I promise."
Teagan mouthed a thank-you before dissolving into the sea of students—they, the solvent, and she, the solute. Lizzy nodded and pulled out her cell phone, scrolling through her notifications. The text was, in fact, from the number that had texted her early that morning.
Wow, um, this is awkward. Sorry for bothering you. I can't believe this happened again. Before Opal, it was Jen. Before Jen, it was Izzy. And so on. I hang out with them at some party, we have a good time, I get her number, I text her, and BOOM. Wrong number. Why does this always happen to me? I can't believe I actually thought Opal was different. Sorry for drowning my sorrows to you.
Lizzy grimaced, sympathy swirling in her brain like a lollipop. Opal hadn't been the first person to stand this guy up. She kind of felt bad for him, but a new question popped into her brain like popcorn (the nasty, burnt kind), the (smoky) smell of it lingering throughout the day. What was so wrong with this guy that three (plus more) girls had given him fake numbers? What did he do that was so bad; what was wrong with him?
Lizzy wasn't sure if she wanted to find out.
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A/N:
Sorry for such the long wait! My tablet is super crappy but I've finally found the time to post this chapter on our family's nice computer! I hope you enjoy! I'm planning to be more active from now on but updating is still going to be sporadic because of school, homework, and extracurricular activities. Let me know your thoughts on this chapter! Give it a vote if you liked it!
- Payton