These Starcrossed Lives of Ours (6 page)

BOOK: These Starcrossed Lives of Ours
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“Whatever one you want,” he said, winking at me. I rolled my eyes with a small laugh.

“You’re ridiculous,” I said. “I don’t even know what’s playing.”

“Fine. We’ll pick when we get there.” Ian amped up the truck and soon we were cruising down the road at a speed that I didn’t know Ian was possible of driving. “Sure you don’t want to slow down there, Tex?” I asked.

“You mean speed up?” Ian stomped on the accelerator and the car started flying. For the first time there seemed to be a fire in Ian’s eyes, and it looked like he was close to losing it, but in a good way. I had never seen him like this...he always seemed controlled, but now it was like the devil had been let out of his cage.

“Uh, we just passed the road,” I said as I watched it whizz by.

“We’ll take Scio Church then,” Ian shrugged. “It doesn’t matter, tonight we’re gonna have some fun.”

“Wow, a movie night with the dull roommate. Don’t you have any friends?” I asked sarcastically.              

“Totally. I have tons of friends. Big man on campus? That was me,” Ian said.

“I haven’t seen any of them,” I said, crossing my arms.

“Taking care of you is more important,” he said, the joy bursting from his chest. “Besides, they get me once a week at church and the boys...well, I probably shouldn’t be hanging around with them that much anyway. I promised Dad I’d stop drinking so much when I went out.”

“You drink?” I said, blown away by this statement.

“It’s Manchester. Everybody drinks. And I used to. I try to party relatively clean now. No more than a beer or two.”

My respect for Ian both grew and decreased at the same time. This man had more secrets than I realized. As he put the car sideways down Scio Church I held onto the sides of the door and said, “Hey, crazy! Don’t kill us, alright!”

“You think this is bad?” he asked with a laugh. “You should’ve been with me in my college days.”

“You obviously have a death wish,” I said.

“Nah. I just love taking risks.” He whirled down the road until he came to a swampy area, one where I had seldom been to but remembered passing every now and then.

“Look!” I said. I pointed out two beautiful white swans sitting by the side of the road, cars passing them by inches. Next to them were three gray signets, all puffed up around their parents.

“Somebody’s going to hit them! Honk your horn!” I said as we passed.

“Tried. It doesn’t work, they just ignore you. I once saw some old guy get really close to them and take pictures.”

“I wouldn’t do that. Swans are vicious.”

“Yeah. But they’re gorgeous. They migrated here after somebody hit the other two.”

“What?” I said, my smile turning into a frown.

“Yeah. Somebody ran them and a baby over early in the morning a few years back.” Ian shook his head. “It was quiet for about a year and then these newcomers moved in.”

“Somebody will come along and get them, too,” I said, worried.

“Maybe. But I hope not.” Once we were past the swans Ian began driving like a maniac once again, and I did my best to hold on for dear life.

“Would you slow down?” I said. “Before you get us both killed?”

“Why, you mean like this?” Ian swerved the truck to the right and I went flying. When he wrenched it back over I found myself falling against him, my body pressed into his side.

“Oops,” he smiled. “Didn’t mean to do that.”

I pushed away from him, fixing my hair. “Uh huh. I bet you’ve done that with all the girls you’ve ever tried to date.”

“Not all,” he said with a laugh. “Just most of them.”

“Did it ever work?” I said smugly.

The smile fell from his face. “Well, no. Not when Macy broke her nose against my window.”

I broke out laughing. “You broke a girl’s
nose?”

“I didn’t mean to, I was just trying to show off. I was sixteen,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

“And what did she do then?”

“She uh...demanded I take her to see a doctor, then told everyone about it at school. I didn’t get a girlfriend  for about a year after that.”

“I’m surprised you got one at all, after that got around Manchester,” I said.

He let out a long sigh. “Sometimes I wish I hadn’t.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” I said playfully, punching him in the shoulder.

He smiled, although it was more of a grimace. “Let’s just say we all have one really bad ex.”

My smile slipped away. “Hell yeah. I know how that feels.”

As we came up to a well-known road, my heart skipped a beat. “Wait,” I said, and Ian slowed. “Turn here,” I pointed, and Ian did so.

“This isn’t the way to the movies,” he said, confused.

“We’re going to be a little late,” I said. “I just need to check something.”

Ian meandered down the tiny road until I recognized an old rusty mailbox with the same old bent over realtor sign in front of it. “Left,” I said.

We drove up a curvy path until Ian slowed to a stop in front of an old green farmhouse. As I got out of the car I couldn’t take my eyes off of it. The paint was chipping off, several shingles were missing and the windows were broken, but memory made the place look just as neat and tidy as Grandpa had kept it. The porch had holes in it and was probably crawling with rats, but that didn’t make the place any less special to me. I turned to look at the old white barn and felt even sadder. It looked like the littlest gust of wind would blow it over. The fencing, though red with oxidation, still stood. The grass was up to my stomach in some places, and what used to be the garden was overgrown with weeds. The place had been the subject of many high school pranks over the years, and anything Grandpa had left behind was subject to humiliation. The realtors had obviously stopped trying to sell the place. It was probably abandoned by now, forgotten by the city, my mother...everyone but me.

“What’s this place?” Ian asked, stepping over a rotting plank of wood.

“It’s my grandpa’s farm,” I said, putting my hands in my pockets. “Or at least it used to be.”

“I thought you were a city girl,” Ian said, perplexed.

I kept walking, closer to the barn. “I am. But every summer my mother would let me come stay with my grandfather, one week out of the year.”

“Only once a year? But you lived right in Ann Arbor. Why’d she keep you away like that?”

I let my hand run over the wood of the barn. “My mother was a complicated person. She and grandpa had a...patchy relationship.”

Ian kicked the ground. “I see.”

I walked around the barn, to a place that I hoped was still there. “Where are you going?” Ian asked.

“Don’t ask questions, just come on.” I broke into a run, not caring if I lost Ian or if he couldn’t keep up. I wanted to be alone and stay here for days, just by myself.

When I stopped I was standing by the edge of a deep, wide pond, circled by pine trees that reached up so high that I swore they were friends with the clouds. The sun was going down, but in this part of November twilight made everything look rather silver, with only the yellow of the sky and the gray and white mists mixing with the sharpness of evergreen. The pool was a rich, dark blue, fish swimming slowly beneath the surface.

“Jeez you’re fast,” Ian said, gasping for breath. He bent over and leaned on his knees for support. “Whoa,” he said as he looked around. “It’s really pretty here.”

“Grandpa took me fishing here all the time when I was a kid,” I said, sitting down along the shore. “We’d sit out here for hours and just talk. We never caught anything except for one tiny baby fish. We let it go.”

“You miss him.” Ian sat down next to me.

“The fish?”

“Your grandpa.”

I looked back up at the pine trees. “Coming here was the only time I ever got to feel like I was a kid. Grandpa would show me the animals, tell me stories, teach me how to sew and cook things. He’d try to teach me how to fix things, too, but I wasn’t very good at it,” I laughed. “We never went into town for anything. I got to stay here and be away from everyone. It was great.”

“Wasn’t home great?” Ian asked, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Mom was never home, and neither was my sister. I never knew my dad and I was by myself, save for when somebody needed something. Sometimes I was gone for days and nobody would notice.” I hugged my legs with my arms. “I begged to stay with Grandpa, but my mother wouldn’t let me. I was crushed the day he died. It was my one chance of getting out of there.”

“How old were you?” Ian asked.

“Sixteen.” And then a few weeks later came Annabelle.

I looked over at Ian and I was completely blown away. Tears were filling up his blue eyes, and he was blinking slow and steady as if trying to keep them in.

“Ian...” Forget the swans. Ian’s tear filled blues were prettier than anything I had ever witnessed.

“It’s fine. No, forget about it. I’m such a softie,” he said, shaking his head and sniffling.

“No. Nobody has ever actually...cared so much before,” I said. “It really means a lot. Most people tell me to suck it up and walk away.”

“Is that why you’re so quiet?”

I picked at a loose thread on my jacket. “I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut over the years. Saves you a lot of trouble.”

“From who? Your mother? Other people?”

“Everybody,” I said. “But I’m glad I can talk to you.”

He beamed. I sighed and said, “I barely feel like I’m a part of life. I’m just...floating.”

“Why do you wear that necklace?” Ian asked, pointing to the five pointed star. “Did someone you love give it to you?”

I touched the necklace delicately. “It’s all I have left of my old life.”

“If you miss it then why did you leave it?”

I looked up at the silver sky. “I was living my life for all the wrong reasons, doing whatever other people asked no matter how terrible it was.”             

“Why would anybody want to ask you to do something terrible?”

“There were some people that I knew,” I said slowly. “A cult. They weren’t...normal. The leader did tons of sacrifices and used fear and punishment to control everyone who followed her. If you didn’t do what she said she’d make you do something even more terrible, and if you refused she’d take your life.”

“She sounds awful,” Ian said. “I’m glad you didn’t get mixed into people like that.”

I hesitated. “Yeah. I didn’t know her very well, I just heard about her.”

It was getting cold...I began shivering. “People can’t think very high of you, living with somebody like me and all.”

“People think that you’re going to change me because you’re an outsider and because we’re living together,” he said. “And I guess it’s entirely possible, but I don’t want that to happen. I love God more than I love anything or anyone else, and I don’t want that to change.”

“Just keep the crosses to yourself, okay kid?” I said, shivering harder now. “I don’t do the Christian thing.”

He smiled. “Okay.” He slipped his jacket off and put it around my shoulders.

“Ian, take it back,” I said, trying to take it off.

“Either it goes on you or it goes on the ground,” he teased. I gave a heavy sigh and wrapped it around my shoulders in defeat.

Night was falling fast. “Jeez, what is it, five thirty?” Ian asked, looking at his watch. “I forgot how quickly it gets dark now.”

“We should probably get going,” I added. We got back in the car and as Ian revved the engine hundreds of black birds fluttered out of the trees. Ian and I sat there in awe, watching them swarm all around the treetops with our mouths open.

“There’s so many,” Ian said, awed.

“Yeah,” I said, just as breath taken. “Do you think they’re all family?”

Ian

“I’ll pay for my own ticket,” Christie said, trying to give the ticket vendor at the theatre her money.

“No,
I’ve
got it,” I insisted, laying a twenty on the counter and smiling at the vendor. “Gentleman always pays.”

“I can pay for myself,” she argued, hands on her hips, her mouth forming into a cute scowl. I forced myself to look away.

“Of course you can. But you won’t,” I said, grabbing the tickets and putting my arm around her to escort her to the theatre. She huffed, a strand of hair flying out of her face, as she said, “Ian Rosenthal, you are the most hopeless man I’ve ever met. I hope you never run into a con artist, because they’ll skin you alive.”

“That’s what I have you for,” I said. “You’re always willing to catch onto anyone who’s trying to do you wrong.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” she protested. We took our seats in the theatre just as the movie began. Although Christie was enthralled with the movie, I found myself unable to tear my eyes off
her.

She played with a strand of her long brown hair as her chocolate eyes watched the film in wonder, her rosy lips slightly open as she gasped when monsters jumped out from their hiding places. She told me horror movies were her favorite, so that’s what we decided to see. She acted like she hadn’t seen a movie in years. But then again, maybe she hadn’t.

BOOK: These Starcrossed Lives of Ours
8.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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