Book of Love (2 page)

“
Want to
give me your five?”
She had halted,
leaning close to me as we lagged behind Mother. Her dark eyeliner
smudged into her eyes, leaving them inked with grey.

I gave her a disgusted glare, knowing all
she wanted to do with it was buy prescription drugs. I rolled my
eyes away from her, disgusted that she’d even dare to ask.

Emily was gorgeous—at least she was under
all the makeup. She was tall and thin with long, auburn tresses.
She naturally walked like a model, attracting all sorts of
attention, but mostly the negative kind.

“
No.
You can’t,”
I hissed.

Emily glared, grabbing the handle of the car
door and snapping it open.

I walked around to the other side, taking a
deep breath before opening my own door and ruefully climbing in.
I’d given up my life to play mother to Emily. My own mother was too
overwhelmed with work to notice what really went on. I knew my
mother meant well, but it was a burden that had destroyed my
life.

I was tired of it.

Emily:

I slammed the car door for dramatic effect,
showing Jane that I was pissed at her for refusing to lend me her
five. She had plenty of money stashed up somewhere; I knew it. Jane
was a goody two shoes, and it was starting to cramp my style. I
pouted and looked out the window, hooking my palm under my chin. I
saw the cute neighbor boy next door climb into his car, a
mischievous thought entering my head.

I rolled the window down.
“Hey,
We—es
.” I
said his name as seductively as I could, and then batted my eyes in
my effort to irritate Jane.

“
Emily
,” Jane hissed, as she always
did.

She elbowed me, and I let out a low scream,
glaring at her.

“
Hi, Wes.” She waved,
leaning over my lap, hoping to cover up the embarrassment of what
I’d just done.

Mother glanced at me in
the rear view mirror with a look of concern on her face. She was
sizing me up, probably wondering what
troubled-teen-symptom
I was
displaying today. I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms against my
chest. Jane was still lying across my lap, pressing the button on
the window to bring it back up. I hated that she treated me like a
child. I shut my eyes, trying to forget the headache that had now
set in from the exasperated thoughts in Jane’s head.

Mother spoke then, but not
to me—she knew better than to do that. It was a known fact that I
never listened, or at least I pretended not to. What she didn’t
know was that it didn’t matter if she spoke to me or not, I
still
knew
what
she was thinking. “Jane, why didn’t you ever date Wes? He’s a nice
boy.”

I laughed to myself,
finding hilarity in the fact that Jane would date anyone at all—her
one exception being the fact that she had lost her virginity to Wes
this summer, which I
knew
despite the fact she’d told no one.

I also
knew
that she did it out of pity,
and now regretted it. She knew Wes loved her, and for what ever
reason she’d given in, even if it hadn’t exactly been what she
wanted. That was her one and only romantic encounter to
date—
pathetic.

Jane was a history geek,
and though she had good looks, she never put them to good use.
She’d been this way ever since our father died—large grandma
sweaters and baggy jeans, frazzled hair with a whole mess of split
ends. Her skin was pale because she refused to go outside unless it
was to snowboard, which she’s unsure if she’ll get the chance to do
this year with me cramping her style. She thinks I’m too young to
know what life is all about, but she doesn’t know what I can
hear
. Besides, I’m only
a year behind her in age, just not in school. There were two things
I knew for certain:

Something about me is
different, and freshman year is going to
suck.

Jane:

I hated when Mother said
that to me, as if I hadn’t already told her why I hadn’t dated Wes.
I liked Wes, sure;
as a
friend
. We had been friends since we were
babies. He was practically a brother to me. Wes was the only person
that seemed to understand all I’d gone through and the
responsibilities of my burdens. Sure, we had tried to be together,
but it was awkward. I’d lost my virginity to him after all, but it
didn’t feel right for me. There was no emotion, no great
ta da.
Besides, I didn’t
have the time for a boyfriend.

“
She’s afraid that if she
dates him, he’ll end up dead like father,” Emily teased in a
childish voice.

I felt the car rattle as she said it, my
mother tapping the breaks in both shock and sadness. Emily often
referenced my father’s death that way, as though it wasn’t her
father at all. She was too young to remember, but not me. I
remembered everything. He had been my best friend—my only
friend.

“
Emily,
please.”
My mother’s voice cracked as she said it,
suggesting the comment had hurt.

Emily let an annoyed
breath escape her dark crimson lips. “
Whatever
.”

I tried to press back the images of my
father as they welled up inside me like a nightmare. I wasn’t sure
exactly what had happened that night, but I remember what I saw—I
saw the fire and the car. I even saw him take his last breath.

Blood. Emptiness.
Horror.

All I knew was that something had saved me.
Some force of luck had decided I was to live, and my father was to
die. Emily wasn’t there. She didn’t know. She barely even recalls
the outline of his face, but I remember. I see every wrinkle, every
scratch as the blood pooled onto the pavement of the road,
following the outline of his beard and staining the few grey hairs
he had. I saw his eyes fade as the life left them, and I heard his
last words, still echoing…

“
I love you,
Jane.”

That was ten years ago, but it still felt
like yesterday. I was so young, but in that instant, all the youth
was stolen from me and our lives changed forever. In that instant,
I’d become the mother, and Mother had become lost. I was too young
to grow up, too young to worry, and now, it was all I
knew—seventeen going on thirty-four; my mother thirty-four going on
dead.

That’s how I saw it.

My mother was an empty shell, left broken on
the beach.

Wes:

I waved as the car passed, rolling my eyes.
Emily was a mess. Too young to realize exactly what she was doing.
Jane, though, she was something else. When she waved, it was as
though the whole world stopped. I sighed. To her, though, I was
just a friend.

I got in my car, rubbing my hand that had
begun to hurt. I looked down, my gaze tracing the bones and
knuckles. They ached as though I’d been up all night playing video
games. I flipped it over and looked at my palm, and then put it on
the shifter of my 86 Camaro. I watched as my fingers shook.
Shutting my eyes, I tried to stifle the pain.

For the last week, the pain had been acting
up. I didn’t know what it was from, but I had a hunch. I needed to
lay off the hobbies. I suppose painting model cars had its dangers.
I sighed. It wasn’t just that, though. I hadn’t felt at all
spectacular, and the changes in my height and weight… that alone
put me on edge. I no longer wanted to go outside. I was afraid
someone would notice. I thought I was done growing two years ago,
but this spurt had been the biggest yet. My stomach grumbled with
nerves and a strawberry Pop Tart.

My parents gave me up for adoption when I
was just a baby. Life in the orphanage had forced me to grow up
fast, and when I was finally taken in, it still left me with a
gaping hole in my heart. It was times like now that I wish I knew
my parents. The pain inside me was something I hoped they could
explain, but I’d never found them—no matter how hard I tried.

I started the car with shaking hands. I
usually took Jane to school, but this year with her sister being
there, I figured her mother wanted make sure Emily at least made it
to the front door. From there, it was out of her hands.

I would try one more time to get Jane’s
attention this year—try at last to be the guy of her dreams. She
was my only hope for happiness here.

I loved her.

With one last deep breath,
I looked over my shoulder and backed out of the driveway. This was
it:
senior year.
Things were bound to get better.

Jane:

We pulled up to the school in silence as
Emily gave me one last glare. She snatched her black backpack off
the seat beside me, rolling her eyes. She didn’t even bother to say
goodbye to Mother as she slammed the car door behind her, storming
down the walkway and into school.

I sighed.

“
Mother, I’m sorry. I’ll
try to watch her.” I felt as though it were my fault she had
misbehaved. I saw Wes walk by the car, glancing toward it but
continuing on, understanding that my mother and I were talking
about serious matters. My eyes followed him, inspecting his ever
changing physique and spiked golden hair. I shuddered with guilt,
training my eyes straight ahead.

My mother looked at me
through the rearview with a gaunt expression. “Jane, it’s not your
fault. I just don’t know what to do with her. I wish I knew what
she was up to.” She shifted the car into park. “She’s not doing
anything…
illegal
, right?”

“
I…” I wanted to tell her,
but the dark circles under her eyes reminded me that she had enough
to deal with already.

She gave me a pained smile. “Just keep your
eyes open, Jane. That’s all I ask.”

Her words wracked me with guilt. I knew I
needed to tell her what was really going on, but what could she do?
She didn’t need to know, and that was my decision. Someone needed
to protect my mother.

I unbuckled my seatbelt, grabbing my bag and
sliding from the car.

“
I’ll watch out for her,
Mom. I promise.” I smiled and shut the door, lowering my head as I
walked around the car and toward the steps.

I heard her drive off behind me, quickening
my pace as I saw that all the students were already inside. When I
reached the doors, the bell rang. I exhaled sharply—already late
and it was only the first day.

I grabbed the handles of the doors and swung
them open, walking briskly inside. My feet clapped against the
linoleum floor, echoing off the lockers on either side. There was
another echo in the hall as well, and with my head still down, I
peeked up. I allowed my hair to shield me in case it was a
rule-hungry teacher, bent on disciplining stray students on their
first day.

My eyes landed on the back of a boy that was
up ahead, walking with leisurely poise. I quickly looked back down
at my feet, turning as I reached my homeroom and grabbed the handle
of the door. The echoes in the hall ceased at the same time my own
footsteps did. Startled, I looked up, my eyes finding the boy as he
stood by a locker at the end of the hall. He didn’t seem to notice
me as he worked at the lock. He was new; that wasn’t hard to tell.
We didn’t get many new kids in Glenwood Springs, Colorado; at least
none that looked like him.

He had on a dark grey T-shirt, despite the
fact that it was an unseasonably cool day. His jeans were a faded
navy and unmarked, a far cry from the designer jeans I was used to
seeing here. I looked at his feet, noticing he wore a pair of brown
leather shoes—a fashion faux pas considering the grey T-shirt.

I examined his profile, noting the strong
jaw line, a small freckle positioned near his ear. His lashes were
long and thick, a dark brown that could almost be considered black;
his hair matched. It was medium length and tossed expertly away
from his face. His lips were pressed together in a thin line,
revealing a dimple on his cheek.

He lifted his arms, exhibiting a string of
muscles linking from his shoulders to his wrists. He placed a stack
of books inside his locker and shifted his stance to position them,
allowing me a glimpse at the inside of his forearms. I squinted and
saw he had tattoos inked from his elbow to his wrist, also
something you didn’t see much in Glenwood Springs—especially when
most of us weren’t even eighteen yet.

There was something aside
from his looks that had attracted me, though. It wasn’t as if he
were dreamy as in
Zac Efron
dreamy, but actually typical despite the array of
attractive features. My brows were drawn together as I stood frozen
for a moment, my hand on the handle of the door. He was too far
away from me to see his future death, but there was something. A
familiar image flashed across my thoughts, like a bit of déjà vu. I
tried to hold onto the image as my breath caught in my throat. The
image slowly washed away before I could see what it was, and I was
left struggling to make sense of it. The boy slammed the locker
door and I snapped back to reality. He turned away from me and
walked down the hall, unaware of my gawking existence.

I shook my head and opened the door to
homeroom, walking in as everyone stared. Their eyes reflected the
judgment I was sure was in their heads. My breathing stopped.

“
You’re late, Ms. Taylor.”
Mrs. West glared at me over her bifocals. She motioned me to sit. I
scanned the room, finding Wes as I exhaled with relief. I quickly
made my way toward him, sitting down at the desk he had saved for
me.