Double Moon

Double Moon

 

  (Blue Moon Series book 1)

  ©Francine Zapater

  Nº registro de la propiedad intelectual: B-2762-15

  https://francinezapater.rocks

  English translation: Stuart Kelling

  “There are three kinds of ignorance:

  Not knowing what should be known,

  Knowing erroneously what is known,

  And knowing what should not be known.”

  François de la Rochefoucauld

  “As in friendship so in love, we are often happier through our ignorance than our knowledge.”

  William Shakespeare

  PROLOGUE

  I looked into his eyes and what I saw paralyzed me. They weren’t their familiar blue. A pearl gray, like molten steel, took possession of them, and gave them a dazzling coolness. I gasped and covered my mouth with both hands. Panic about what might happen didn’t stop me being totally fascinated by what I was seeing. It was a startling, surreal sight for someone like me.

  For someone so human.

  Erik's body began to sway, like a ship riding a strong tide, his face wracked with pain. Beads of sweat ran down his forehead. I had no idea what was causing it.

  I turned my gaze to the big guy and I caught a hint of a smile on his face. He felt he was winning this bizarre battle. I looked back at my angel. I couldn’t stand seeing Erik suffering like that, gutted by pain; I wanted to help him, but what could I do if I didn’t even know what was happening?

  LAST YEAR

  “The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.”

  Eleanor Roosevelt

  The roar of an engine brought me back to reality.

  Today was the first day of class, my final year at last. I was getting ready in my little room, immersed in my thoughts, when a thunderous sound startled me. I ran to the window of my room trying to see who was making such a racket.

  A high-performance motorbike, a deep red color, like fresh blood, had stopped in front of my house. I looked curiously at the rider. He had one foot on the ground while he was looking for something inside his jacket. Was it a mobile phone? A camera? The engine was still growling. He looked up, as if he sensed I was watching. I hid behind the curtains instinctively, a little to my surprise. What was I doing? When did I start peeping through the curtains like my grandmother? I felt restless, anxious. I peeked through the net curtains again. Who was he? I didn’t know anyone with a bike like that around here and that was weird because in a small town like mine everybody pretty much knew everybody else.

  In Chemainus, the guys my age dreamt of having a bike like that, but I was certain that none of them actually did. We’d grown up together, from child to teenager, at the same school in the same town. And I knew for sure that nobody had a bike like that.

  “You look like an idiot hiding like this,” I said to myself, summoning up the courage to peer out again, this time without hiding behind the curtains.

  He wasn’t there. He’d gone. A strange feeling came over me. It was as if something stronger than me, a supernatural force, had completely invaded my body and my mind.

  I breathed heavily against the glass, steaming it up so I couldn´t see outside. I tried in vain to figure out where the powerful motorcycle and its driver had gone. I couldn’t stop looking out of the window. Just a few street lamps, still lit in the early morning light, shed some light on the blurry scene.

  I stepped back from the window with a sigh. I was starting classes that day and, as if that wasn’t enough, now I’d be thinking about what had just happened all day. I caressed my temple with my fingertips, pressing it gently. An oncoming headache was threatening to ruin my day already. I went to the bathroom looking for a painkiller. I rummaged in the small first-aid kit hanging on the wall behind the door until I found it.

  The cell phone rang, echoing painfully in my head, like I was being attacked with tiny hammers. I ran to my room, but before I even answered the phone, I knew who was calling.

  “Yes? “

  “Stella? Stella! Is that you? “

  “Of course it is, Beth. What kind of question is that?”

  She ignored my answer and started with her usual histrionics.

  “It's horrible! Horrible! I can’t believe this is happening to me. Today, the first day of school! I want to die!” My best friend’s shrill voice cracked at the end.

  I couldn’t help smiling.

  “Let me guess: a huge spot on your face? You ran out of make-up?” I said, feigning sympathy. “Let me sit down before you start to explain the enormity of the catastrophe we’re facing.” I could hear how agitated she was down the phone.

  “Stop it, you’re killing me, ha ha!” she laughed sarcastically. “Here I am, about to have a nervous breakdown and you just make fun of me. Very nice, I must admit.” she sighed, though it sounded more like a growl. “I don’t know why I bothered to call you, you don’t have a heart.”

  “Oh, come on! Just tell me. What happened?”

  “I've burnt my fringe.” I couldn’t help laughing. “I’m glad that makes you happy.” she said angrily.

  “Sorry. What do you want me to do?”

  “How the hell should I know?!” she was on the limit, her voice shaking. “Oh, God!” I'm not going to class like this. I look like a walking mop!”

  This wasn’t the worst crisis that I could remember. Last year, as it happens, she’d burnt her lip with depilatory wax. She’d pulled the skin off it and left it raw. That had actually been awful. How did she manage to hurt herself every year at the start of the school year?

  “Say something, please!” she screamed at the other end of the line.

  I tried to sound worried, although I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face.

  “I'm coming over right now, okay? Wait for me, I’ll think of something.”

  “Okay, but don’t be long, please.”

  I hung up the phone, thinking about how much I was going to miss her next year. It was likely that we wouldn’t be going to the same university. Beth wanted to study in the USA and I didn’t know what I wanted to do, but one thing was clear: that I’d miss her a lot.

  At times like these, I wondered how my life would change in a matter of a few months. After graduation, nothing would be the same.

  I’d spoken with my father about studying in another country, doing an exchange with other students; in fact, I had many different possibilities and all of them were unfolding before me like a fan. I just had to decide, I needed to choose one, but that was the problem, I was aware that this wasn’t a simple decision. It wasn’t like choosing what I was going to wear or what movie I wanted to see. My life as I now knew it would change completely as a result of that decision, and that’s why I was putting it off until the last moment.

  I shook my head, forcing myself to not to think too much. Beth was waiting for me. I’d better not make her wait. I could imagine her now, desperately looking at her watch until I arrived. I grabbed a hair treatment pack and a hippie scarf my father had given me a couple of years before. I went to the front door.

  I put everything in my bag and threw it over my shoulder, ready to go rescue Beth.

  “I've put your lunch in your backpack.” My mother was looking at me from the kitchen door as she dried her hands with a cloth. “Isn’t it a little early?” she said, pointing at her watch.

  “Beth’s having had last minute… complications.” I smiled.

  “You weren’t thinking about leaving without saying goodbye, were you?”

  “Of course I wasn’t, mom.” I said, walking toward her with outstretched arms. I gave her a big hug and a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Even if I wanted to, it’d be impossible; you’d chase me halfway around the neighborh
ood if I did that.”

  Nicole put on her ‘displeased’ face. I knew her too well; sometimes I thought I knew her better than she knew herself.

  “What‘s happened to her this time?”

  “She’s singed her fringe and if I don’t go to her house it may start the Third World War.”

  “When will she grow up?” she added, rolling her eyes, a habit of hers that I’d inherited.

  “Well, I hope you have a good day.”

  “I hope so too.” I said, pulling away and going out the door.

  “Don’t break too many hearts!” I heard her call after me.

  “You're crazy, mom.” I called out, waving goodbye.