Double Moon, Page 3

We were late for class. “Great,” I thought. First day of school and we were already in our Chem teacher’s good books.

  I definitely shouldn’t have gotten out of bed.

  Mr. Morganson stopped talking when we walked in. He looked at us furiously while we took our seats at our respective desks, adding to the embarrassment I was already feeling. It felt like a dozen of pairs of eyes were watching us.

  “This is worse than your fringe,” I whispered to Beth as we took out our books and placed them over the old scrawled-on desks.

  My face felt as if I had a fever. I was as red as a tomato. I hated being the main attraction, but today it would be hard to go unnoticed after our triumphant late entrance, and with Beth wearing a crazy orange, fuchsia and yellow headscarf that I’d lent her. In the end, that had been the best solution we could find to her hair scare.

  Beth and I were like night and day. She enjoyed being the center of attention. In fact, she almost always was. She was stunningly beautiful; she was kind of exotic because of the genes she’d inherited from her mom, a beautiful Thai who’d fallen in love with Beth’s dad. She wasn’t very tall, just enough to make her body look slim and shapely. She’d inherited her mother’s high cheekbones and forehead, along with velvety skin, a soft golden color, which was every teenager’s dream. Big dark brown eyes, inherited from her father, highlighted her face which was framed by a long, silky black mane.

  The class was long and boring, like all Professor Morganson‘s classes. It didn’t matter that we hadn’t heard his interminable, boring explanations for three whole months, in one hour he was able to drive me nuts like I’d been listening to him for a century. The bell’s shrill sound meant redemption for my poor neurons. I picked my books up slowly, looking at Beth out of the corner of my eye; she was talking happily with the guy at the next desk, Daniel Wilson. Beth didn´t like to waste time. We’d just started the course and she was already pestering the handsomest boy in the class.

  At that moment, I felt a kind of envy, because I don’t have the same ability as she does to talk to guys like Daniel. On the other hand, I felt comfortable in the anonymity that having such a stunning friend as Beth provided. It gave me an advantage that she didn’t have. I’d learned to read people’s faces and body language and so, without saying a word, I got to know them sometimes even better than she did. I was sure that someday I would overcome my fears and dare to do more than watch from a distance.

  I looked at Daniel for a moment while Beth flirted shamelessly with him. There was no danger of him catching me looking at him, I knew that right then I was invisible to him.

  It’d been a couple of years since this attractive student had come to our town. He came from Texas. He was tall, with a strong muscular body. In fact he was in the football team, the perfect athlete. He had brown hair and such intense brown eyes that you couldn’t tell iris from pupil, and a dark complexion. All those things together gave him a manly look, despite being only 18 years old.

  Beth was delighted when he’d arrived on the scene, but up to now she hadn’t been so bold with him. And there was a reason. Daniel had just broken up with his girlfriend down south during the summer. Keeping a long-distance relationship going was more difficult than it seemed. Also, what was going to be just a temporary stay in Canada for him and his family, became permanent when Daniel's father found a better job here and decided to move to our town permanently.

  So the thing was that this year Daniel was single and available, and of course my friend wouldn’t allow that situation to stay that way for long.

  Beth laughed loudly, touching Daniel’s shoulder, all innocence, even blushing a little.

  It was incredible; it was clear that my friend should study drama and become an actress. She had the talent for it, no doubt. The way she talked seemed so sweet and innocent that the hottest guy in the class was whispering in her ear. I couldn’t help admiring her. Beth definitely knew no shame!

  “If you love yourself, other people are bound to love you too.” She always tells me when I ask her how she gets everyone falling at her feet. Maybe that was my problem; I don’t have high self-esteem. That’s why I was terrified about doing something ridiculous or drawing attention to myself.

  I was thinking too much. I shook my head. “Three’s a crowd,” I thought, looking at the lovebirds for the last time, and turning to leave the room to go to my locker.

  I had the feeling someone was watching me. I didn’t know why but again I had the same strange feeling I’d had that morning. I turned slowly to left and right, looking at the faces around me; nobody was showing the slightest interest in me. Me and my paranoias. Luckily I saw Megan and Thomas coming over, smiling and waving. I gave them my best smile and walked towards them.

  It was a pleasant morning. I saw old classmates that I hadn’t seen all summer. Everyone had something to tell: a fabulous trip to Europe, a summer love, a part-time job.

  “And what have you been up to, Stella?” I heard Thomas ask. He was a lanky, ungainly boy, whose teenage years were treating him cruelly, physically speaking.

  “I went to visit my grandparents’, nothing special,” I said, blowing at the hair falling over my face. “It was the same as every year: sun, beach and crushing boredom. I was longing to come back.”

  “Just like me,” replied Megan, closing her eyes and leaning back, trying to soak up the last of the warm summer sun. “My parents rent the same house near the lake every year. In the end you get so bored that you can’t wait to start back at school again.”

  “I think they do it on purpose.” Megan and I looked at Thomas, not understanding what he meant. “You might think I've got a screw loose, but I'm sure our parents plot against us to ruin our vacations, and then they can send us back to school without feeling guilty about it.”

  Megan and I shrieked with laughter. Thomas was one of a kind, with a conspiracy theory for everything.

  I’d known both friends since childhood, like Beth. My parents had moved here when I was only five. Carl, my father, got a job at a subsidiary of the company where he’d worked on Vancouver Island. We settled in a small town called Chemainus. It was a colorful town, famous for the wall murals that told the history of the place. My parents loved how quiet it was, population a little over three thousand, compared with the hustle and bustle of our old home, New York.

  It was a big change in our lives, especially for my parents; being so young, I hardly remembered anything about life in the Big Apple. Chemainus for me is like my hometown, even if I hadn’t been born there. I felt part of it all, with its lush green forests of wet, leafy cedars.

  In summer, swarms of tourists came to the west coast, looking for dreamlike landscapes of mountains and lakes. But in winter, when a white blanket covered every nook and cranny, peace and quiet returned.

  My mother had occasionally suggested going back to New York. She missed her family, and now that Carl was gone, she felt lonelier than ever. I totally didn’t want to go. This was my home. My life was here, as were the years I’d lived with my father, my memories, both happy and sad, and my friends. That's why it was so hard to think about college. If it had been up to me, I would never leave Chemainus, ever.

  Thomas, Megan and Beth were like family. Beth has always been like a sister to me. She’s cheerful, mad, carefree, honest, sometimes too honest, especially when you know you’re not going to like what you’re about to hear. But that’s her: she doesn’t mince her words, although she’s the sweetest and loveliest girl imaginable when she needs to be.

  Megan is totally different. She’s quiet, self-contained, very diplomatic and composed, and always knows what to say in every situation. Sometimes I think we’re too alike. Maybe that's why we’ve never been as close as me and Beth.

  And then there’s Thomas, the brainbox, his unfortunate looks made up for by an acute intelligence and a boundless heart. He’s very funny but wary; unique, as he usually says.

  I was happy to see them again.

  I lean
ed back with Megan, letting the warm sunshine bathe my face, enjoying the heat on my skin.

  I felt it again. That disturbing anxiety.

  It was the same feeling I’d had at home when I saw the biker and then by the lockers outside my classroom. I couldn’t resist opening my eyes and looking for who or what was causing it.

  And then I saw him for the first time.

  I froze like a statue, staring at him. I couldn’t see his face. He had his back to me, but there was something about him, his upright posture, his pleasing figure, or his curly caramel colored hair with golden highlights, like sunshine, that totally mesmerized me; I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

  “What are you looking at?” I woke from my spell and saw Beth sitting beside me, her eyes following the direction of my gaze. “Are you going to answer me, like, today?”

  “I’m sorry, I ... I... I didn’t see you there,” I stammered, fiddling nervously with the sleeve of my sweater.

  I was going to ask her if she’d seen the boy who’d just turned me completely inside out, but I lied.

  “I was thinking about an algebra problem.” My voice sounded weird even to me. “You're no good at making excuses” I thought, as my friend looked at me through half-closed eyes.

  “You don’t think I’m stupid enough to swallow that nonsense, do you?”

  “I don’t know what...” I couldn’t speak. The fact that I couldn’t even finish my sentence didn’t exactly help matters.

  “That’s okay.” she chided. “Don’t worry about it. If you don’t want to tell me, that’s up to you.”

  She turned to talk to Megan. She was angry, that was obvious. In all these years, I’d never felt the need to lie to her, and to be honest, I didn’t even know why I’d done it.

  “Don’t turn around,” said a little voice in my head when I noticed an eerie attraction running through my body, forcing me to look at the stranger again. I couldn’t help looking up at him and meeting his gaze; it was a deep, transparent blue, as if a frozen sea had been trapped in those eyes that stared back at me, observing me. It was only a few seconds, but it was enough to set my pulse racing and make my breathing fast and irregular. I felt the heat rise up to my cheeks as I struggled in vain not to look at him. I hated blushing. It was so obvious what I was feeling; it was like a neon sign announcing the embarrassment I was feeling inside.

  He looked away and I finally succeeded in doing the same, but those eyes were burnt into my mind.

  Night came and insomnia with it. It was impossible to sleep after what I’d been through that day.

  What was happening to me? Why couldn’t I stop thinking about him? I didn’t even know him! I didn’t know who he was; I didn’t even know his name. Maybe he was just there by chance and I’d never see him again. I’d only seen his eyes and the world had stopped for me. I got out of bed and I tried with no luck to concentrate on petty things that needed doing. I kept seeing his sky blue eyes in my mind. I decided to try listening to music: I took my iPod and lay down on the bed, singing along with the lyrics. His eyes were still staring at me in my head. My heart began to beat irregularly at the memory of that angelic vision. I tried to analyze the situation coldly. Who was he? The same guy as the one on the powerful red motorbike? Why did he look at me like he did? Did he know me?

  The more I thought about it, the more complicated it all seemed. I’d connected with him with just one look. Those things don’t happen in real life. Those things don’t happen to me.

  Why was I so anxious to see him again? Deep down, I knew that there was something else. I didn’t realize how much that one look had changed my life, my world ...everything.

  The alarm rang and I wanted more than ever to stay in bed. It had been a bad night. I had a headache, my eyes were burning and I didn’t want to go down to have breakfast with my mother. I was sure Nicole would give me the third degree. First about my first day in class and second about the why I looked so awful. That was the last thing I needed this morning, because, as well as looking awful, I’d woken up like a bear with a sore head.

  “Good morning, darling.”

  “Hello,” I muttered, burying my face in my bowl of cereal.

  Nicole sneaked a glance at me from the corner of the kitchen. She was cooking something that smelled wonderful. I felt terrible about being mean to her so finally, after eating part of my breakfast, I decided to talk to her.

  “That smells great. What are you making?”

  “I’m cooking Mexican. I've seen some recipes on the Internet.” She took out some chicken breasts and several types of cheese from the refrigerator. “Today I’ll be working late. They asked me yesterday and I couldn’t say no.” She saw the disappointment on my face and hurriedly explained the rest. “Cynthia's grandfather has had a heart attack and she‘s taking a couple of days to take care of him, so the manager told us that they need us to work double shifts.”

  I wasn’t particularly paying attention to Nicole’s explanation, but I’d heard enough to stretch out our conversation a little more and leave home without being interrogated.

  “That's unfair. Why don’t they hire someone?” I complained.

  My mother’s body shook as she laughed, as if she'd heard a bad joke.

  “Darling,” she said, coming over to me and smoothing my hair; “It isn’t that simple. At work, you take it or leave it, especially when they know how much you need the pittance they pay. It’s 21st Century slavery.”

  I shrugged my shoulders. I wasn’t in the least interested in putting the world to rights when I couldn’t even solve my own problems.

  “And what about you? How are you? How was your first day back at school?”

  “Fine. Same old same old...” I said, trying to finish the conversation as quickly as I could.

  I wolfed down my cereals and jumped to my feet.

  “Well, we'll talk later mom. I have to go.”

  I put the bowl in the dishwasher and gave her a quick kiss on her cheek.

  “Okay, have a good day,” she said. “I'll leave this in the fridge.” she added, pointing at the frying pan. “I love you, honey.”

  “Ok, Mom! I love you too.” I said, rushing out of the door.

  The day was gray and dark, as if the sky was covered by a metal roof. I wrapped myself in my jacket, which was too thin for such a cold day. I hated winter and it was getting closer. The days of afternoon sun and summer warmth were over. Days like this were what I could expect now.

  It would get even worse when it started to snow. I put my hands in my pockets to warm them up a little, thinking of how I’d escaped from my mother. In the end it was easier with her than it had been with my father. Nicole was kind of absent-minded. Luckily, tomorrow she wouldn’t remember the conversation we‘d had today. Carl was different. When my father was alive I’d spent hours with him. Sometimes we only exchanged occasional looks and a few words and that was enough for us. He knew me so well... So many times, he could read on my face what I could hardly put into words. But he never suffocated me, he let me breathe. He knew I’d turn to him if I wanted to talk. And no pressure, ever.

  But now everything was different. My father had died two years before and since then Nicole had been more possessive and absent-minded than before, if that was possible.

  I walked, lost in thought, when I felt that weird electricity running down my spine from top to bottom, like a worm crawling down my back. It was the same feeling I‘d felt the day before. Did that mean he was around? Where? I bit my lower lip while I looked first one way, then the other.

  But there was no one there. Well, no one able to make me react like that, anyway.

  I turned on my heels and carried on walking to school, trying to straighten out my thoughts. I forced myself to think about the job interview I had at the end of the day. I needed money for college fees and I didn’t want my mother to cover all my expenses. The poor woman worked hard to earn money for the two of us. We weren’t destitute, but we weren’t exactly swimming
in money either. So I’d decided to start working, turning a deaf ear to Nicole’s objections.

  UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER

  “Sometimes we can spend years without living at all, and suddenly our whole life is concentrated in a single instant.”

  Oscar Wilde