The Illusion of Annabella, Page 7

  “Headed to school?” Luca appears seemingly out of nowhere. He charms me with that lopsided grin as he strolls up to the fence.

  My heart betrays me, missing a beat, and I glimpse from left to right, praying he’s talking to someone else, but no one else is around.

  “Um, yeah.” I sling the strap of my backpack over my shoulder. “Aren’t you?”

  He glances down at the plaid pajama bottoms and faded grey t-shirt he’s wearing. “Since there’s only, like, a week left until Christmas break, my mom’s letting me start in January.”

  “Lucky you. I’d kill to be able to sit around in my pajamas all day.”

  “It has its downfalls.”

  “Like what?”

  A flirty smile rises on his lips and I immediately fear where the conversation is going. “Like it’s making me a slob. I mean, look at me. A few days of freedom from school, and I’ve already gotten so lazy that I’m standing here talking to a pretty girl in my pajamas.”

  I miss a beat and end up standing there, staring at him like an idiot. But no one, not even Miller, has called me pretty before. And how I look now, dressed in wrinkled clothes with smudged makeup on, and messy hair, there’s no way Luca could think I look pretty.

  He has to be lying. I’m not the kind of girl someone thinks is pretty.

  Unable to find my voice, I turn to bolt for the truck.

  “Hey, Anna,” he says before I can make my escape.

  I pause, my adrenaline racing. “Yeah?”

  “I was being serious yesterday.” Nervousness edges his voice. “It’d be cool if you could show me around town.”

  I glance back at him, my gaze sweeping up and down his body. I try to convince myself that I’m not checking him out, that I’m just reading his vibe. That’s all. But I’ve become such a liar that I even lie to myself now.

  “I can’t right now . . . I’m grounded.”

  His eyes sparkle with interest as he rests his arms on top of the fence. “What’d you do?”

  “Something terrible,” I say evasively. “Look, Luca, you seem nice. But you don’t want to be friends with me.” And I can’t be friends with you. Like Cece, you remind me too much of the past with your lopsided smiles that turn me into that dreamy girl.

  “You must be really unperceptive,” he teases. “Because that’s exactly what I want to do.”

  “You don’t even know me, though.”

  “But isn’t that the point of becoming someone’s friend? The whole getting-to-know-the-other person. In fact, it’s one of my favorite parts.”

  I elevate by brows, questioning his words. “Really? I think that part sucks. I mean, it’s such an awkward phase.”

  “Awkward can be fun.” His smile grows when I frown in doubt. “Don’t try to tell me that you’ve never been entertained by someone acting awkward.”

  I open my mouth to tell him no, I haven’t, but then I remember the days of laughing at lost tourists, looking so out of place in our town. In fact, I was doing it the day of the accident.

  “Nope. Never,” I lie for at least the tenth time today.

  “Liar, I can tell by the look on your face that you totally do,” he calls me out on my bullshit, just like that, and it throws me off.

  Hardly anyone ever puts me in my place or tells me like it is. Even when I’m acting like a brat, everyone that knows me looks at me with pity, carefully choosing their words.

  “I have to go.” Opening the truck door, I prop my foot onto the running board.

  “See you around, Anna. Can’t wait to get started on our awkward friends phase.” He uses my nickname even though I didn’t even give him permission to.

  I hate that he just does it so causal, like he’s supposed to be using it. Most of all, I hate how much I like hearing him use my old name.

  Shaking my head in disbelief, I hoist myself into the backseat with Nikoli and Zhara.

  “Was that one of our new neighbors?” Loki asks as I close the door.

  I unzip my backpack to get a stick of gum. “Yeah, I guess.”

  “He seems nice,” Loki says, lacking any form of subtly. “Is he your age?”

  “He’s in my grade, but he’s definitely not anyone I’ll hang out with,” I tell him, needing to get that thought out of his head now.

  The last thing I want is for Loki to push me into being friends with the sweet, nice guy next door who, back in the day, I could have easily had a crush on. I can’t go back to that place in my life. I don’t belong there anymore—don’t deserve to belong there anymore.

  “Do they have any other kids?” Zhara asks, aligning the row of blue and grey beaded bracelets that match the cheerleading uniform she’s wearing.

  I pop a piece of gum into my mouth and look out the window. “Beats me. I didn’t ask.”

  “So, then you’ve talked to them?” Loki asks as he backs out onto the street.

  “No, they talked to me.” I drop my bag onto the floor. “The mom came strolling up to me yesterday and chatted my ear off.”

  He shoots me a stern look from over his shoulder. “I hope you weren’t rude.”

  Alexis snorts a laugh as she props her unlaced sneakers on the dash. “When isn’t she rude?”

  “You’re one to talk,” I retort. “You know people at school call you an evil bitch? Everyone’s afraid of you now.”

  She shrugs nonchalantly. “So what? It’s better than being called Freaky Gimp Girl.”

  Even though I know they already do, her words sting.

  “Alexis,” Loki warns. “Don’t even go there.”

  “Why? She started it,” Alexis gripes. “You always take her side because you feel sorry for her, and it’s turning her into a spoiled brat.”

  “Alexis, be nice to Anna. She’s been through a lot.” Zhara chimes in, trying to play the role of our mom again.

  “We’ve all been through a lot,” Alexis snaps, her hair whipping around as she aims a death glare at Zhara. “And coddling Anna isn’t going to help anyone.”

  I’ve somehow turned into Invisible Girl, and I seize the opportunity and keep my lips zipped, wishing I could vanish, even if only for a day or two. If no one noticed me then maybe I wouldn’t have to be anyone at all. I could just blend into the walls and vanish from this world.

  “Oh, my god, I can’t stand this anymore.” Nikoli tugs his red baseball cap lower as he slouches in the seat. “All you guys do is argue. When Mom and Dad died, you all lost your freaking minds.”

  No one speaks for the rest of the drive. When Loki pulls up to the drop off area, Alexis bails out before the truck even comes to a complete stop. It takes me a couple of minutes to gather my things, and by the time I get out, my sisters have already made it to the entrance of the school.

  Nikoli goes to the middle school so he stays in the backseat, but doesn’t wave goodbye to me.

  “I’ll pick you up at exactly three ten,” Loki hollers at me as I close the door. “And, Anna, you better be here. I’m serious. If you wander off and I have to track you down, I’m going to be super pissed.”

  I nod and shut the door.

  Honeyton’s weather has its up and downs, but mainly there are a lot of ups. We don’t really have a winter, but we do get occasional sporadic rainstorms and bursts of heat. Even though it’s December, a heat wave has rolled in over town. The campus yard is packed with students lounging on the grass, soaking up the sun.

  Enough time has passed since I’ve taken the pills, and I feel sublimely sedated as I push through the growing crowd toward the school with my chin tucked down. But I can feel people’s eyes on me, which is normal these days. Occasionally, someone dares to bring up the accident, like I actually want to talk about my parents’ deaths.

  “Hey, Anna.” Cece coyly waves to me as I pass her locker.

  It’s odd seeing her act so reserved toward me when she’s such a spunky, outgoing person. But what’s really mind-boggling is that I used to fit in with her smiles and giggles, pretty hair and outfits.
I’d get all cleaned up to impress guys and acted silly over first kisses. That’s who I was.

  Was.

  I look down at my leg that doesn’t bend right as I walk.

  Another time. Another life, Anna.

  I fix my attention on the dinged up lockers until I reach my own, but unfortunately, Cece follows me.

  “I need to talk to you about something,” she says, glancing around the nearly vacant hallway. “Maybe in private.”

  Like Zhara, she’s wearing a cheerleading uniform and a perky smile; she’s all positivity and rainbows, and I can’t even bring myself to look her in the eye so I focus on spinning the combination to my locker because it’s easier than facing reality.

  “This isn’t fair, Anna. I don’t even know what I did. One minute we were best friends, and now you won’t even look me in the eye.” She combs her fingers through her long blonde hair, tapping her foot against the linoleum. “I know it’s because of Miller. Ever since you started dating him, you won’t talk to me.”

  “I’m not dating Miller. We just hang out.” I open my locker and exchange my backpack for my books.

  “I saw you at that party the other night.” Her cold tone implies she isn’t happy about whatever I was doing. “But I doubt you’d remember. You were so out of it.”

  Slamming my locker, I swing around her and limp down the hallway.

  “This isn’t fair,” she yells after me. “I didn’t do anything.”

  I slow to a stop in the middle of the hallway. “You’re right. You didn’t do anything. All this . . .” I gesture between us, “is my fault.” Hope flashes in her eyes, but I squash it. “But I can’t be friends with you anymore, Cece. It’s just too . . . hard.”

  Tears flood her eyes as she spins around and races off toward the girl’s bathroom.

  I go to class early, sinking further into my guilt and wishing I had more painkillers to take, wishing I wasn’t such a shitty person, wishing she’d just let me go. I meant what I said. We can’t be friends because the Anna Cece used to know died and all that’s left is a hollow shell of a person who can’t figure out what to do with herself.

  It’s hard to avoid Cece, though, especially when she’s in my first period class. She enters about five minutes after I sit down and looks like she’s about to burst into tears again when she sees me. Still, she shyly waves as she takes a seat. I know her well enough that I can tell she’s nervous.

  About a minute later, Ben, the six-foot, brown haired football player I once had a crush on, saunters into the classroom. He drops his binder on the desk right next to Cece’s and grins as he sits down and says something to her. Cece, who was the biggest flirt even before we started high school, smiles, coiling a strand of her hair around her finger. He soaks her attention up like she’s the sun and dazzles her with one of his infamous dimpled smiles. She returns his smile, but grows apprehensive as she casts a wary glance at me.

  Jealously briefly burns inside me. Are they going out?

  The feeling fizzles out as I train my gaze on the tattered cover of my notebook. It doesn’t matter.

  My phone bounces on my desk as it vibrates, and I swipe my finger over the screen to read the message.

  Cece: I don’t care what u say. We’ve been friends since we were in kindergarten and I’m not going to let you just throw it away. Please, just talk to me. After school maybe?

  I can’t even figure out a reply, so I shut my phone off. Cece catches my gaze, and her eyes water, as if she’s about to cry. I feel like crying, too, but like the last six months, my eyes remain dry.

  I cower in my chair and study the cracks in the desk until I can no longer feel Cece staring at me. When I peek over at her again, she’s laughing at something with Ben and Cadence, who’s taken the position of Cece’s best friend.

  I observe how she laughs, how happy she looks. I long for the days when I’d be right by her side, looking just as happy, which only makes me want to swallow more pills.

  Cece doesn’t look at me or text me during class. When the bell rings, she rushes past me with her head down.

  I’m sorry, I almost say, but bite down on my tongue and bury the grief down, allowing the pain pills to suffocate my emotions.

  Chapter Seven

  A House Infested with Glitter

  The week feels long, mostly because almost everyone at school got word of my arrest. Gossip flutters up and down the hallways, and people gawk at me more than usual.

  Friday, Mr. Dalcbee, the school guidance counselor who likes to wear a lot of smiley face ties, calls me in for a visit to chat about my grades and try to pry into my life, something he does once a month.

  “You’re barely passing your classes,” he says. “This isn’t good, Anna.”

  “I know,” I reply, picking at the chips in the wooden armrests of the chair I’m sitting in.

  He grows annoyed with each question he asks me. “I know you can do better than this. You used to be a straight A student.”

  “I don’t know what the big deal is,” I say. “I’m not failing any of my classes.”

  “The big deal is that you have the potential to be a great student, and right now, I’m not seeing that potential. Look, I know things have been difficult for you, but I really would like to see you focus on school again and maybe apply to some different colleges, maybe ones you haven’t looked into yet.”

  I know where the conversation is heading, and my back stiffens.

  One of the many downfalls of living in a small town is everyone knows everyone. Mr. Daclebee has known me since I was four. His wife used to attend the same book club as my mom, and they’d go shopping and wine tasting on the weekends while he and my dad would hang out in their man cave, aka, the basement.

  I hate that he thinks he knows my story because he occasionally drank beer and played pool with my dad. He doesn’t know anything. No one really does when it comes to my family, not even my family. My brothers and sisters, they don’t know the truth about everything. Sometimes I get so angry that I’m the only one that knows about my mom, which only makes me hate myself even more for becoming such a cruel person that I want other people to suffer with me.

  “Can I go?” I rise from the chair. “I don’t want to be late for math or my grade’s going to drop even more.”

  Those seem to be the magic words.

  “Fine, we’ll talk later,” he says, stuffing my folder back into the file cabinet. “And, Anna. If you need anything, you can always come to me. Even if it’s just to talk about your parents.”

  “Yeah, sure.” My skin dampens as I grasp the doorknob.

  When I exit his office, I lean back, my head banging against the wooden door. “Goddammit, this sucks.”

  Miss Manerton, the receptionist, glares at me from behind her wire-framed spectacles. “Watch your language, Annabella, or I’ll write you up.”

  I utter an apology then limp out into the crammed hallway. The whispers instantly funnel around me, like gnats. The calm, drug-induced haze from the pill I popped this morning is wearing off, so snubbing the gossipers takes more effort. Deciding to cut out early, I sneak out the back doors and head home. It’s only a three-mile walk, but it takes me forever, and my leg feels like it’s been cut open all over again. But that’s okay. Pain is easier. Pain is simple. It’s everything else that sucks.

  When I make it to my house, I go straight up to my room, crawl into bed and pass out, sleeping all the way into the next morning.

  Thankfully its Saturday so no school and no stares. I consider not getting up, just lying in bed until the sun goes down and falling right back into a dreamless sleep again. But someone knocks on my door, and the idea dries up like the rain.

  “Are you awake?” Loki sounds calmer than he was the past few days. “I need to talk to you about skipping out on the last half of school yesterday.” When I don’t answer, he gently shakes my shoulder. “I know you’re not asleep.”

  I open my eyes and scowl at him. “I was until you woke
me up.”

  “Don’t act like that.” He yanks the blankets off me. “Get up. You’re coming to the store with me.”

  Shaking my head, I crawl my way up to the pillow. “No way. I’m not going there.”

  “Yes, you are. In fact, you’re going to start coming with me every weekend. And you might as well prepare yourself to spend a hell of a lot of a lot of time at the store, because that’s where you’re going to spend every night. And when Christmas break starts, you can count on spending the days there, too.”