9
The first day of school arrived much too quickly—I’d barely managed to wake up early enough to hand in my permission form. I had just enough time to nip down to the office and give them my form and cheque, and hurry back to my first period class, not exactly sure where it even was. My excitement lasted me the entire week. It was rare for our school to go on field trips. Our funding was never quite enough to cover what we wanted. So this overnight fieldtrip to Lake Ingorian Historic Site was a one in a million opportunity.
So I carried that happy balloon with me all week, up until Friday morning when my mother reminded me of our afterschool plans.
“Jasslyn, you remember where we’re going today after you come back from school, right?” she said, washing up the pan she had just used to fry eggs.
I sighed. My balloon was beginning to deflate. “Yes, I do.”
“Good. You know what you’ll be wearing, I hope?” She gave the pan a shake and set it on a drying rack. She washed dishes whenever she could—made sense, though, because our dishwasher was ancient and would probably get rust on the dishes instead of cleaning them.
“Mom, I only have that one dress.”
She frowned and turned, drying her hands on a dishtowel. “Didn’t we go out and buy you a new one?” she asked.
I shook my head slowly. “Nooo…We haven’t gone out since camping.”
My mother’s eyes widened. “We haven’t?”
“No,” I confirmed.
“Well, then,” she said with an exhale that heaved her shoulders. “You wear that dress to every occasion. Should I pick up a new one while you’re at school or wait for to come home?”
I paled. “Wait for me to come home, Mother! Who knows what kind of nineties dress you’ll pick up for me,” I said, half-joking.
“All right then. But you’d better hurry. The get-together starts at four, remember?”
I nodded. I remembered all too vividly.
Scooping the last of my breakfast into my mouth, I picked up my schoolbag and went to the front door to slip on my shoes. After checking the time on my cell phone and giving a start, I tied my laces tight. Another just-in-time start to the day.
“Jasslyn, you’d better hurry. We’re going to be late. The Harolds live at least fifteen minutes away.”
Jacoby lived in the well-off part of town. His mother was a successful businesswoman—thus her newest promotion, and his father was a rather well known architect. Their house was a normal two-story building. What set their place apart from the others in their neighbourhood was their amazing garden. Big enough for a gazebo and half a dozen paved trails, Mrs. Harold was always inviting guests over for dinner parties.
“Okay, okay, I’ll just go with this one.”
I popped out of the change room and hurried towards the line-up.
I didn’t wear dresses often enough to vie for something expensive; what was the point in buying something pricey when I was almost one hundred percent sure I wouldn’t wear it on regular occasions?
“Oh, Jasslyn, why couldn’t you have inherited your father’s punctuality?”
I was startled to hear my mother talk about my dad so casually. It was like we were still together, all of us.
“I don’t know. Maybe I decided to inherit your tardiness?”
My mother scowled at me. “I’m not tardy,” she snapped. “I just have many things to do.”
I snorted. “You know, Mother, it amazes me how you can be so organized but still show up late to so many things.”
She waved her hand at me. “I’m going to go look at the casual wear over there,” she said, pointing at a far-off corner. “Come find me when you’ve paid.”
My smile was barely suppressed. The truth was, my mother didn’t have a jam-packed schedule, nor did she have a lot of things to do. She just had the attention span of a goldfish.
“I am so sorry we’re late, Doreen, Kenneth,” my mother said when the door opened. It was approximately 4:12 P.M.
“That’s all right, come on in, you two. Jasslyn, you look so cute!” said Mrs. Harold, her husband at her side.
I smiled stonily. While other people had been kind enough to start calling me pretty instead of cute, Mrs. Harold insisted on called me anything from “adorable” to “precious” to “scrumptious”. You’d think she would’ve developed a wider vocabulary by now.
“You can head on out to the backyard. The kids are sitting out there,” said Mr. Harold in a quiet voice. He was a big man, wore Polos all year round. Jacoby had gotten his eyes from his father, but the resemblance ended there. Mr. Harold was rather beefy and imposing, though he was much kinder and quieter than his wife. Jacoby, on the other hand, was average everything, including his amount of talkativeness, and stuck in that stage where it looked like someone had stretched him up and down, but not side-to-side.
“Okay. Thanks, Mr. Harold.”
I wasn’t sure what I’d find when I entered the back yard, but all the same, I was rather surprised at what I saw.
Jacoby sat at a foldout table on a foldout chair, talking to two foldout—no, they weren’t foldout. The two girls sitting on either side of him were Cassidy and Kelly, another pair of family friends.
They spotted me and shouted out greetings, nudging Jacoby to pull out an extra chair for me. While he rose to fetch one from a pile at the side of the house, the two turned towards me.
“So how’ve you been?” Kelly asked, smiling radiantly at me. They were possibly the two prettiest girls I’d ever seen, and they were really nice to boot
“All right. What about you two?” It was best to keep them talking. Even though Cassidy was more reserved, Kelly had enough curiosity for the both of them, and then some. She had once kept me talking for hours, and I hadn’t even noticed until my throat completely caved in.
“Pretty good,” they answered at the same time, before laughing.
“I haven’t seen you in such a long time, though!” said Kelly.
“You’ve grown up,” added Cassidy with a soft smile.
“Jake, too.” Kelly nodded enthusiastically at her own words. “A lot.” She giggled.
Giggled.
“Nah, he just got taller,” Cassidy said, shaking her head at her little sister.
“Yeah, and—” Kelly cut herself off. Jacoby had returned with my chair. He set it up for me in the spot opposite him, the only spot open, and sat back down in his own seat.
We were engulfed in an awkward silence for a couple moments before Kelly found something else to say.
“What colour are your socks?” she asked, with just as much pep as before.
Cassidy looked at her like she had grown an extra head. “Kelly.”
“It’s a perfectly adequate question!”
“Yeah, a perfectly, adequately, rando—”
“White.”
We all stared in surprise at Jacoby. He had his dirty, beat-up shoe in one hand and was staring at his foot. It never failed to puzzle me why they were the only pair he ever wore. “Well,” he said uncomfortably, looking at all of us looking at him, “this one’s white at least. I can never find matching socks.”
It seemed like all of us had been struck dumb by his willingness to play along.
“What?” he said hotly, putting his shoe back on. “She asked.”
We burst into laughter simultaneously—Cassidy, Kelly, and I. The expression Jacoby wore on his face was far too amusing to respond to while wearing a straight face.
“Oh, Jake, you’re so funny,” Kelly chirped.
Jacoby gave her an odd look.
I bet he’s never had anyone say that to him in his life.
“Why don’t you undo a couple buttons?” asked Kelly, eyeing the front of his white dress shirt. He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, his shirt buttoned to the very top. “It’s really hot today.”
He shook his head. “No thanks,” he said, placing a hand on his chest and rubbing it slightly. A crease had appeared between his eyebrows.
“Come on, Jasslyn, let’s go get something to drink,” said Cassidy. She stood up and towed me into the house.
“Is there something going on between the two of them?” I asked when we entered the kitchen, smiling and nodding to strangers that we didn’t really know, but for some reason, knew us perfectly.
“How’s school going, Jasslyn?” said a lady in the corner with frizzy dyed hair. She was holding a wine glass in a manicured hand. Her long nails were painted crimson.
“It’s going well,” I answered stiffly, all the while wondering who the lady was.
“Still on that softball team?”
It was then that I got close enough to notice that her breath reeked of alcohol. That, and the fact that I’d never joined a sports team in my life.
Cassidy grabbed us two bottles of sparkling juice and led the way back outside. I found myself in the same position I had been in a week ago: standing behind the screen door and looking out at Jacoby. Except today, Kelly had replaced Emma, and she had her hand on his forearm and was laughing a little too loudly.
Jacoby doesn’t even have half the humour required to make someone laugh like that, I thought with a roll of my eyes.
I noticed that a pile of weeds had grown by Jacoby’s feet. Upon closer inspection, I found out they were dandelions. I had yet to figure out why certain flowers appeared at certain times.
There were the pansies, I thought, picturing the laughing faces. They popped up when Jacoby was watching me set up a tent. Do they mean sadistic amusement?
I looked back at the table to find that Cassidy had joined them. Deciding to stand there for a little longer, I realized that Jacoby’s face was even more devoid of emotion than before. How could Kelly manage to keep her hopes up while he looked so stony? He wasn’t even close to smiling.
But the dandelions were growing at his feet, sprouting tall enough to brush their white, fluffy heads against the bottom of the table.
Sighing, I slid open the screen door and joined them again.
I felt Jacoby burning a hole into me as I moved from the door to the table. His eyes locked onto mine the moment I sat down, and he tugged his arm away from Kelly, who gave a barely audible “Hmph!” in protest.
I heard a comical sucking and popping sound, and when I chanced a look down at the table, I realized that the dandelions had disappeared, but had yet to be replaced by a different flower. I stared right back at him, imagining that I was the superhero, he was the villain, and we were doing that thing with the lasers coming out of our eyes.
“When’s dinner going to be?” piped up Kelly.
Shut up, I’m having a laser-beam-staring contest, I thought crossly.
Cassidy sighed loudly. “Come on, Kelly, let’s go get a snack if you’re so hungry.” Before Kelly could say or do anything, her older sister had towed her away, just like she had with me.
Jacoby and I remained staring at each other. When I couldn’t bear the tension any longer, I said, “So.”
He raised his eyebrows. “What?”
I decided not to beat around the bush. “Why are you staring at me like you’re hoping I’ll spontaneously combust?”
The corner of his mouth twitched, and I heard a giggle from below the table. I thought fleetingly, Is Emma under the table? but then remembered just as quickly the pansies I had moments ago been thinking of.
“Why on earth would I ever want you to spontaneously combust?” he said in a mock-polite voice, a tiny smirk dancing on the edge of his lips.
“Hm, I don’t know. You’re staring daggers at me, why on earth would I think you wanted me to spontaneously combust?”
His face broke into a smile just for a moment. It disappeared quickly, replaced by a louder giggle from below the table. “Can we stop saying spontaneously combust?”
“All right, we can stop saying spontaneously combust.” I found myself grinning, and another small smile was on the verge of lighting up Jacoby’s face.
Why can’t he just smile? It’s like he has no facial muscles.
Deciding to try something while we were both in a good mood, I stretched and nudged the pansies with the toe of my shoe, making sure my face was composed while doing so.
They gave a shrill shriek and crowded closer to my foot, only to disappear with the same sucking and popping sound seconds later.
Jacoby inhaled sharply and his hand jumped to his chest, pressing down against his left side. “You—” he choked.
“Jacoby, I need to talk to you,” I said quickly, standing up as he did.
He stared down at me. I noticed a thin layer of sweat, as thin as a coat of varnish, covering his face. His chest was beginning to heave up and down, faster than it regularly would. He shook his head furiously, pushing his chair back and walking down one of the many paths in his garden.
“Jacoby, please, I need to talk to you!” I repeated desperately, going after him. When he increased the length of his stride, I had to jog to keep him in sight. It was already hard enough to spot him amidst the other men and boys wearing dress shirts.
Damn these shoes, I thought. I’d misplaced my dressy shoes, and had to borrow a pair of my mother’s high-heels.
He was nearing the gazebo now, and I figured he wouldn’t have any other place to go after that. I slowed my walk.
To my surprise, he turned right before walking into the gazebo and I wondered crossly when the backyard would end.
He rounded the corner and went around to the side of his house.
“Jacoby!” In a desperate attempt to seize his attention, I lunged forward and pulled at his shirtsleeve, the only part of him I could reach quickly. I’d tugged harder than expected, and with a click, the top three buttons popped and I was eye-to-eye with the hollow between his collarbones.
I was startled when tiger lilies burst at his feet and gave a roar.
“What compelled you to yank my shirt open, may I ask?” he snarled. He reached to do up the buttons that I had accidentally undone.
I was shocked to find a web of red-black spanning across his chest, clearly visible despite the added layer of his undershirt. Were those veins? By the time Jacoby tugged his dress shirt back together it was already too late. Thoughts had clicked into place inside my head and made the necessary connections: his hand had leapt to his heart the minute I nudged his pansies. He hadn’t waned to undo his buttons. His veins.
Before I could say anything, Jacoby followed my shocked gaze to his shirtfront and grabbed me roughly by the wrist. He led me to the front of the house and entered through the open front door, trailing clumps of tiger lilies in his wake. I couldn’t help but stare as the petals grew teeth and clawed at each other.
“Get in,” he said in a low voice. He pushed me into the storage cupboard, the only place not yet occupied by guests. Closing the door tightly behind him and shutting out all the light, he wedged himself in beside me. I heard a rattle and a second later, Jacoby popped back into view, holding a metal string attached to our only source of light. The dusty old bulb looked so ancient that it had probably seen nothing but macaroni and canned soup for years.
“I don’t know what you want to talk about, but you have to listen to me.” Jacoby let go of the string and gripped my shoulders tightly. I watched vines curl around the metal beads and wave their green tentacles. “You will tell nobody about what you just saw, all right?” he said in a deathly quiet voice.
I hesitated. I wanted to ask him questions about the pattern curling outwards from his heart, but the increasing pressure of his hands warned me not to.
I nodded. The brief dip of my head didn’t seem good enough for him. He started to shake me by the shoulders.
“Do you understand?” His eyes were wide, but not in anger. No, it was certainly fear.
“Yes, but—”
“No questions. Pretend like you’ve never seen it. What happened in the hallway never happened, and you had never intended to speak to me at all today.” Jacoby looked at me until I told him I understood.
My eyes fell onto his shirtfront again. “You didn’t button that right,” I said, trying my hardest to appear unruffled. My voice sounded far away to my own ears, and though he flinched back when I reached forward, I managed to grip his shirt and pop the button back into place. I felt something tickle my foot.
It frightened me. I had never seen him like that before.
I don’t know what had made me fix his button, and exactly why it made the cupboard feel like it was half the size it really was, but it made me extremely uncomfortable on top of frightened, and after one last fleeting glance at his narrowed blue eyes I opened the door and hastily made to leave.
The roots of the flower lounging on my shoe tightened their hold on me, and I froze. The flowers seemed to sense my panic, because a moment later, it slid off my shoe like it had melted, and disappeared into thin air.
(**A/N: If you're wondering why my chapter titles are all so lame, it's 'cause I don't have chapter titles in my actual document, and I figured, if you guys ever wanted/needed to reread a certain section, having descriptive chapter titles would make your lives a lot easier.)