Love's Forbidden Flower (6 page)

What? Is there another Donovan at this school? My Donovan never fights and certainly would never care about an insult. His team pride is minuscule.

I sprint across the street—almost getting hit by a car in my anxiety. When I reach the front of the crowd Donovan looks fiery as he repeatedly bangs David’s head onto the ground. Thank God this isn’t on concrete. Throwing down my books, I try to pry Donovan off of the guy. At my touch, Donovan jumps up and almost swings before realizing who it is and halting.

I’ve already ducked, and choose to stay frozen until I’m sure it is safe to raise my head. His eyes look hollow as he bites his lip and looks to the ground. He can feel my heart sinking.

Donovan takes a moment to look at the bloody man lying on the grass. David seems to be shaking off the effects of his abuser. Thank God.

With a flip of his hair Donovan storms away from his victim, completely ignoring my presence.

What the hell is happening to him?

My day continues downhill. After forgetting the dissertation half my night was spent struggling over, the snoring that woke me during my trigonometry test was my own. This is the real clinker though. I'm in no social mood, but Sally insists that a little privacy and some good conversation will ease my tension. Thus, she's dragged me into a deserted science lab to eat our lunch. The gesture is sweet, but the room reeks like a chemical toilet. I'm afraid to set my food down for fear of what's been annihilated, or possibly even bred, on these counters.

“What are you doing this weekend? Anything fun?” she asks before taking a bite out of a vile-looking baloney on white sandwich. Why do so many people have mediocre taste in food? It's seems like it has become an epidemic.

After taking a peek at my own blasphemous meal I push it aside. “Not really. My mom wants to go shopping this afternoon, which is code for her wanting to talk. So if that's any indication I might as well stay here and pray for Monday to come mercifully fast.”

“I know what you mean. My mom drives me crazy too. I thought you and your mom got along though.” Sally looks at her sandwich in disgust and discards it for an apple. Maybe there's hope for her yet.

“We do, but she's been acting oddly. My whole family's been whacked out of their minds. I should have the water checked.”

Sally's Betty Boop-ish voice suddenly sounds abrasive. “Speaking of your family, what’s the deal with Donovan? He used to be such a great guy, and now he’s turned into a total jerk.”

“Just because he got into a stupid fight doesn’t mean—”

“It’s way worse than that. He's totally changed. Remember when we both got dumped right before the Sweetheart's Dance last year? Donovan could have asked anyone, but instead he took us both and was totally sweet. He was the nicest guy in school, but now he hangs out with the shady creeps from the team and is completely rude. Jason said he’s been like that since after Christmas break. He also said Donovan humiliated Alana Langton. It used to be if he wasn’t interested in someone he was still nice, but this time he was just horrible. When did your brother become such an ass?”

Can’t I please get through the day without any more Donovan madness? “I’ve no excuses for him,” I say curtly. “Can we talk about something else?”

“I’m sorry. This must be what’s been bugging you for the last few weeks.”

“Yeah. Talk to me about anything else, ok?”

Lunch is survived by pretending to be happy about the silly things we discuss; like crushes on movie stars and celebrity gossip—stuff we have no real interest in. On the way to class, I duck into the bathroom in need of a moment to shake off the brick of reality that Sally just did a roundhouse on my face with. The notion of us talking about the same Donovan is unfathomable.

Slipping into a stall I slam my head back against the divider. What's wrong with me? This is my brother and not some breathtaking celebrity that I don't share genes with. How is it that this is finally sinking in? It makes me feel ill. Is this how Donovan feels and why he's turned? It would explain an abundance about his behavior if he's so repulsed by his own desires that they've lead him into an internal civil war.

I almost hope that I'm just delusional. I don't want Donovan to feel this horrible way. But if he thinks I'm crazy or deviant, he needs to do some self-exploration into his own actions and find his real emotions tucked away.

Enough already! World be damned! If anyone finds my feelings wrong, gross, disgusting, or immoral that's their problem. The only opinion that deserves my respect is Donovan’s. It's not our fault we have the same parents. Screw everyone else!

But Donovan won’t share his feelings, and it causes depression to swarm over me like killer bees.

Please God, no matter what it is, someway, somehow, send me the truth. Don’t let me go to my grave not knowing.

I'm actually praying for an ambush. One that tells me what the crap Donovan's deal is. A drug problem would almost be welcome news. Maybe he's been the victim of a mad science experiment. Or possibly Dad has finally put him over the edge with talk of him not being manly enough, and he's given up and in the middle of hormone therapy for a sex change operation. Whatever the reason for his madness, it may well be why I've been summoned.

The conversation begins with the predicable questions. The all-important one being: “Where shall we blow our diets?” Herein lies the trap, as this is where “The Talk” will happen. I suggest an ice cream parlor. Since it's nowhere near a mall and doesn’t serve that ridiculous stuff referred to as frozen yogurt, it's the least likely place to run into my peers.

Once seated it doesn't take Mom long to put on her “concerned mother” face and begin. “Lily, I hope this doesn't feel like an inquisition, but let me just come out and say it so we can get this over with. I know there is something you are struggling with. Honey, I don’t want to press, but please, whatever it is, let’s talk.”

Damn. It's exactly as feared. That's all right. I'll throw her off her guard in a heartbeat by telling her the truth—sort of.

“Men suck!” Like lightening, dashes of truth fly out while I fabricate numerous details to avoid the reality that would likely make Mom’s brain hemorrhage, sending her into convulsions and causing her to die on the spot. I speak of a boy named George, claiming he was named after George Harrison. It will totally suck her in. British men are her weak spot—especially ones who were in their twenties when she was a child.

I met George in the fall. It was amazingly romantic when our eyes met. He always paid so much attention to me and made me feel special. Just when it seemed safe to care he backed away. Now he’s seeing someone else and the whole thing is just devastating.

Mom’s big reaction to the drama is, “Are you sure that is all? It seems like with how you've been acting there should be more.”

“Gee, Mom. Thanks for belittling my grief,” I groan, slouching in my seat and tossing my spoon into my cup of half-eaten ice cream.

“I'm sorry dear. It's just that you've been upset, and your father and I are concerned. You used to be so good at talking to me about things that—”

It's true. We used to talk a lot about what she thought was everything. We've always had a good mother/daughter relationship, but the last few years she seems to be a little too interested in being one of my peers. She is not very good at being ageless, though she longs to be. I actually feel for her and wish there was a way to help, but I don't have her answers.

Agony over Donovan is causing my emotions to surface regardless of my desires. I’ve no choice but to accept that if I can’t stop them, I'd better control where they go. “No, Mom. For stuff like this Donovan was always there, no matter how stupid or serious the problem. But now he’s becoming so mean. I just don’t know what’s happened to him.”

My tears from last night attempt to resume. I seem to be all cried out—though my eyes feel streaked with fire.

“Darling, a man isn’t the right person to talk to about matters of your heart. What about one of your other friends? Have you—”

“Are you kidding? The last time my heart was broken, Donovan found me sobbing outside and let me scream into his shoulder because he knew I needed it. And when I said I'd lost my heart forever, he told me he could fix everything and ran into the house and came back a moment later saying he had found it and stashed it in his drawer, since he didn’t know who it belonged to. Then he put one of those stupid candy hearts that everyone gets a box of on Valentine’s Day in my hand. God knows how old that thing was. It said ‘Miss You’ on it, and he claimed I needed to eat it in order for it to work again. It was the stupidest thing ever. He even held it up in front of my face and talked in this goofy voice about how it wanted to come home. I ate that damn heart just to shut him up, and by the time I swallowed that disgusting thing I was almost entirely fine.

“But he didn’t stop there. He gave me a lecture on self-worth, and how I should never be the girl who sits and cries over some lame guy because I deserve better. We've always been there for each other. Damn it! I need him again, and he won’t talk to me, and I don’t understand why. I had the best friend in the world, and now he’s slipping away.”

I divert my eyes, ashamed of how much the sister in me loves the brother in him. Mom clutches the napkin she's been using as a tissue, fidgeting with its edge. “I—I had no idea that he could be so sweet or that he had become so distant. He and your father have been very busy getting him setup with a college. He’s also been forcing Donovan to get some academic assistance and is really harping on him about his grades and making career decisions. You know how your father can be. That's probably all it is, but I actually hoped you would know more. Lily, is your being upset really just over George dumping you and you not being able to talk about it? Are you sure that—”

At least now there is insight as to Dr. Jeckyl and Mr. Hiding; but I know Donovan and there’s a lot more to it. Now another problem commands my attention, the one right across from me. The nervous look still on Mom’s face sold out the true nature of her questioning long ago. Since my answers are not to be found, it’s time to end the charade and spit out what she seeks.

“MomIamstillavirgin.”

The color returns to her face. Yep, that's what it all came down to. My heart can be shattered, and I can be without my best friend, but as long as I'm still a virgin all is right in her world. In fact, Mom now looks almost radiant. “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“Yes.” The twinkle forced to mischievously invade my eyes sells my lie. “What exactly are we shopping for?”

Mom’s luminosity tells she wants to charge something pretty and shiny to Dad’s credit card. “I hear there's a dance coming up. Shall we get you a new dress?”

I agree, and force an upturn of the lips despite the stake that Donovan jabbed into my heart. But Mom's content as she walks with the swing of a 50’s teenager and grabs my hand. “Got a date yet?” she asks sounding more like a teenybopper friend than a mother.

“No, but there are a few boys I have my eyes on. I just haven’t decided which one I am going to bewitch into taking me.”

Now
that
gives me an idea!

Donovan snips in my ear, “What was I supposed to do, take
you
? No, that wouldn’t be awkward at all.”

“No. But do you really need to take
her
?”

“What's wrong with her? Just because she's totally hot and completely brainless is no reason for her not to have a date with a guy who pretty much can’t stand her. I thought you'd be happy I’m taking someone I despise. Besides, what’s wrong with Brittny?”

“Well, for one, her name is Brittny. Two, she’s a total slut. Three, she’s brainless. Four, that blonde hair on her head is bleached. Five, I hear she bleaches it elsewhere. Six—Oh, wipe that smirk off your face!”

“Please, keep going. Don’t hold back on my account.”

“Ugh!” I storm out of the den, slamming the door with intense reverb.

An hour later, Donovan sprints past my room to announce that dinner is almost ready. He tries to dash away while ignoring my call for him to stop. But when I grab his arm, saying that I'm serious and talking can't wait anymore, my touch halts him in his tracks.

Our faces shroud as I drag him into my room and close the door. “We need to talk about what’s happening. You've changed and not just toward me. Others have noticed it too.”

His expression morphs as he stares down at me with eyes that are icy with condescension. “Lily, what are you talking about?”

“I know you've been hanging out with some sketchy people and you keep coming home battered. Every time I see you there is a new bruise or gash.”