The Understorey Book One of The Leaving Series Page 5

  Elliott turned toward the Colston's front door. Ezra Colston got into an auto accident his senior year and broke his back. He barely finished high school and has been confined to a wheel chair for the past two years. His friends used to come around a lot but when they all went their separate ways to college, Ezra was sort of left on his own. He attends classes at the local community college and plans on transferring to university as soon as his lengthy rehabilitation is over. He can’t live on his own right now because of it and is forced to bide his time at home until then. At first, Ezra was sort of lonely I think, but then last year nineteen year old Delphine moved across the street and now I’m not so sure he regrets living at home.

  He loves her. She loves him. But she’s stupid and won’t take a chance, too scared to let him make the first move. Dunce.

  Hypocrite.

  What? Who said that?

  I visit Ezra once a week but he’s never mentioned Elliott to me. I start to think he’s using Ezra as an excuse to see me but when Ezra opens his door Elliott hugs him and they do this secret handshake thing that makes me think otherwise. Hmm. They stand on his porch and joke and laugh for what seems like forever.

  Ezra points my direction and Elliott drags his hand back down which sends a secret thrill through me, though I'd never say it out loud. Ezra starts laughing and Elliott jokingly wheels Ezra’s chair into the house. You surprise me Elliott Gray. I still suspect that Elliott is using Ezra for information despite their obvious friendship and decide to wait him out but I fall asleep on my mom’s stiff sofa instead. My dad wakes me for dinner.

  “What are you doing sweetheart?”

  “I’m on a stake out.”

  “Oh, okay,” he says, comfortable with my idiosyncrasies.

  I gaze out the window and Elliott’s truck is still there. Huh. I decide I’m going to go to Ezra’s after dinner only if Elliott’s out of there. I stuff my face much to the dismay of my mother and run back to the window to see Elliott’s truck gone. Yes! And no? Get it together Julia. I dash out the front door and march up Ezra’s porch.

  I pound on the frame of the screen door, “Ezra! Open up Ez!”

  “What the bloody heck are you doing creature?”

  Ezra’s like the brother I never had. I annoy him, he annoys me, but we'd do anything for each other.

  “Why was Elliott Gray at your house all afternoon?”

  “Because he’s my friend,” he says, a small smile twists up the side of his mouth.

  “How come I’ve never seen him here before?”

  “Maybe because you’re blind? I don’t know. He comes here like twice a week Julia. We hang out and stuff. He’s cool. Why? You like him?” An eyebrow raised.

  Immediately, I’m on the defensive, “No!”

  “Doesn’t appear that way to me girly. You’re all flustered and red in the face. Looks like you’re ready to huff and puff and blow my house down.”

  “Ezra Colston! What are you talking about?”

  “Go home, look in the mirror Julia. You’re smitten with Elliott Gray. Boy, that is hilarious. Never thought I’d see the day that Julia Jacobs was a smitten kitten! Kind of always pegged you for a panther myself but heck I’ve been wrong before.”

  “I am not! I am not as you say a smitten kitten! I’m.....I’m....” Doing a fantastic job of defending myself?

  “Alright Julia, whatever you say,” he says closing the door.

  I heard him chuckling through it and marched myself back over to my parents’ home. I stop in the foyer and glance in the mirror. Darn. He’s right. I am a smitten kitten. Can makeup fix this?

  Thursday proves rather difficult at school. Now that Sawyer is on to me he’s paying very close attention to everything I do.

  Friday rolls around and to be perfectly honest, I was exhausted. Between avoiding Elliott, wanting to find Elliott, wanting Elliott to find me, avoiding Sawyer, listening to Ezra taunt me about how Elliott and I are sitting in a supposed tree, school, homework, and parents I’ve had enough. I’m glad to have the week over with and plan a visit to Koan’s, my favorite indie book store in Charleston. I want to load up on books and camp in my room until school starts back up the following Monday; a little mini-vacay from my impossible life. No more Elliott. No more obsessing.

  Koan’s is amazing. Only the hippest cats in town know about it. Okay, that’s sort of a stupid thing to say about a bookstore but let’s just say it’s off the beaten path. I head in and inhale the sharp smells of fresh ink. The earthy smell of paper permeates the air around me and I close my eyes for just a moment enjoying the temporary escape. I greedily finger the display piles and run my palms over the covers. If I were wealthy, I’d swim in a pile of books. I wouldn’t even mind the paper cuts. Nothing like them in the entire world, books that is, not paper cuts. They truly are like nothing in the entire world; that’s not necessarily true but you get what I mean.

  I’m surrounded by university students and a few professor-types. Chuck, the cashier waves at me. His name isn’t really Chuck. I just call him that because he’s got these kick-butt bright red Converse he always wears.

  “What’s new Chuck?”

  “Not much, got the new Stefanie Conrad in. I saved you a copy.”

  “Chuck, you know the way to this girl’s heart,” I said, feigning a light head.

  “Snoop around. I’ll get it for you when I get rid of this line.”

  I wink. It’s gonna’ be a good day. I hum a little ditty under my breath and scan the titles of each aisle while I wait for Chuck. I wonder into the self-help section and almost trip over myself. I absently trail my fingers along the titles, praying there would be one that read ‘You’re insane Julia Jacobs. Stop obsessing about Elliott Gray’ or ‘He’s just a normal boy dummy, a surprisingly kind and sweet boy who just happens to share literal electricity with you but that’s nothing to get so worked up about’. There wasn’t, but there was one ironically titled ‘Getting over the one you’re obsessed with’. I laugh out loud and get a few shushes. I almost pick it up but meander over to the Fantasy section instead. I pick up a random book and start reading the first chapter.

  My head picks up when I hear the jingle of the door. Someone just left. My heart tingles slightly but I shrug it off. I take the book I’m reading over to the checkout line when Chuck waves me over with Stefanie’s new book in hand. I stand there waiting for my turn when I hear the door jingle again. I look up and suck in a breath. Elliott. My eyes widen then narrow, trying to figure out if he’s been near me that entire time, if he was the reason my chest ached. My heart tingles yet again. I lock eyes with him.

  Elliott trips over a chair. His face and neck turn a brilliant red and I feel so sorry for him. The girl in front of me laughs. That infuriates me. I fight the urge to pull her hair. Violent. Why so violent? That’s not like me. He yanks his coat from a chair and storms toward the door without so much as a second glance. My heart aches for him, cries for him.

  “Be right back Chuck,” I say, and toss my book onto the counter.

  I chase after him but I’m too late. He’s gone. Probably a good thing, I remind myself. I need to get over this obsession. He may be the sweetest boy I’ve ever met but that doesn’t mean he’s not going to break my heart. I return to the store and make my purchases.

  Saturday proves to be harder to sit through than I thought. The books are just not doing it for me, not distracting me the way I wanted them to. I sit up, resign myself to doing something outside. I promise myself that I am not getting out to search for Elliott today but even I know that’s a lie. I push my books from my lap and onto the bed and head to my dad's study.

  “Pop? Want to walk into town with me?”

  “I would schnitzel but I’m swamped.” Schnitzel is a nickname he gave me at two.

  “No prob Bob. I’m gonna’ go to Sadie’s shop then. Take a look around. See if there’s anything good on the shelves today.”

  “You know your mother hates it when you shop at the thrift
store.”

  “Yeah, but it’s the only place I can find pre-loved jeans the way I like them loved.”

  “Alright, have fun.” I've been dismissed.

  I walk to Sadie’s and open her door.

  “Sadie?”

  Sadie is in her early thirties, never been married, though I can't see why. I think I remember something about her being in love with a boy from town and when he left town for college he promised to return for her but never did. Tragic. I can't see this in Sadie though. She's too independent and strong in her self-worth. I bet it was more like she refused to wait and ended up alone anyway. She never brought it up and I never asked. Everyone has their secrets.

  “Yes, darlin’. I’m back here.”

  I head in the direction of her voice and stop sharply in front of a wicked dark orange velveteen floor length fitted jacket. I pick it up and toss it over my shoulders in front of the mirror she has close to the front of the shop. I gasp. It is the cutest thing ever and it fits me like it was tailored for me.

  “No doubt I’m buying this today.”

  Sadie appears from behind a rack. I love Sadie. She’s a kindred spirit.

  “I was wondering when you were going to pick that up. Had a little bet going on with myself. You beat my estimated date by three days.” She laughs. “Had to pry it out of some young girl’s hands last week, probably one of those Bluefield girls trying to be you.”

  Sadie holds this delusional notion that since I am quirky the way she was in high school and she was popular therefore it is safe to assume that I am popular as well.

  “Sure Sadie. Apparently you haven’t heard, so I’ll enlighten you. The name Julia Jacobs is synonymous with ‘Bluefield Pariah’.”

  “Nonsense.”

  “Sadie, Sadie, Sadie. It’s true.”

  “Hmmm,” she says.

  I change the subject.

  “Do you know the Gray family Sadie?”

  Awesome subject change Julia. You numb skull.

  “Mark and Shelby? Wasn’t their boy Elliott your best friend growing up?”

  That hit too close to home. My heart begins to ache.

  “Yeah.”

  “Well? What about them?”

  “Oh, nothing, just curious to know if you knew them or not.”

  “Ohhh, I see. You’re smitten with Elliott Gray.”

  “I am not! Why does everyone keep saying that?”

  “I can just tell, always had a feeling about you two kids. This is good Julia.”

  “No, it’s not,” I say.

  Did I just admit to being smitten with Elliott Gray? To Sadie? Out loud?

  “Yes, it is. Now come over here. I have some awesome new jeans that just came in.”

  I follow Sadie.

  “I saw him yesterday,” I whisper.

  “Who?” She teases.

  “You know who Sadie! Sheesh.”

  “Where?”

  “The grocery store. He did something extraordinary.”

  “What? Did he use paper instead of plastic?”

  “Hardy, har, har.” I swallow. “He helped a woman in need.”

  “I’m not surprised. He was always such a generous boy.”

  “She was with her baby and he bought them food and supplies to last them awhile.”

  “That’s incredibly sweet Julia.”

  “I know,” I admit quietly, “and he did it while keeping her dignity intact. I’ve never seen anything like it.” A lump forms in my throat.

  There he goes, affecting me again.

  I stick around Sadie’s shop for about an hour. I lounge on the dark purple settee she has in her window, people watching and chatting with Sadie about nothing in particular. That’s when I see him. I jump up and crouch behind the settee, my head just above the tufted back. He walks over to the newly renovated old fashioned train station and sits on the bench just outside it. What are you up to now Elliott gray?

  “What are you doing Julia?”

  “Shh, get down.” I grab her sleeve and pull. “I’m spying on Elliott Gray.”

  Sadie crouches down beside me.

  “What’s he doing?” She asks.

  “He’s just sitting there. Wait! Someone’s coming!”

  “Isn’t that Robyn Larson?”

  I accidentally growl through gritted teeth. Oops. Sadie laughs. Robyn Larson is an incredibly sweet girl but she’s rather popular with the boys at school. I tried once our sophomore year to get her to be my friend, thought it would help her self-esteem a little, get her to realize she was something worth waiting for but it wasn’t happening. She knew what she wanted. I tried, at least.

  “I don’t like him. I don’t want him,” I say bluntly.

  “Oh yeah, because everyone growls. It’s a natural part of everyday conversation right?”

  I have no witty retort for that.

  “What do you suppose they’re talking about?” Sadie asks.

  “I don’t know. Why didn’t I bring my spy equipment with me today?”

  “You left them at home again?” She snaps her middle finger and thumb, playing along. “Must be setting next to the four inch incisors that came with that growl.”

  “Funny.”

  “I thought it was.”

  Elliott and Robyn sit for at least half an hour before going their separate ways. Sadie and I stay camped out on the floor even after Elliott turns the corner at Thatcher’s. Apparently, neither of us heard the bell ring earlier because I look to my left and Sawyer is crouched beside me.

  “What are we looking at?” He asks, with the largest smile on his face, when I finally take notice of him.

  “Are you destined to interrupt every embarrassing moment I have?”

  “Looks like it.”

  “Awesome. What? Do you get memos or something?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Mind forwarding those to me? I’d rather avoid these little moments if I could.”

  “Where would be the fun in that?”

  We all stand up and Sadie tucks herself behind her counter.

  “What are you doing Julia? You have to tell me now.”

  “I can’t Sawyer. Don’t ask again, please? I just can’t.”

  Sawyer sighs. “Alright.”

  Out of nowhere an uncomfortable silence creeps in and I’m not sure which direction it flew in from because I could have sworn I blocked all those exits when I was around Sawyer Tuttle.

  “So? Sawyer?”

  “Julia?” He grins.

  “Do you know Robyn Larson?”

  His eyes grow huge.

  “I don’t mean know Robyn Larson. I mean just, like, do you know anything about her?”

  “Uh, well.” He scrubs the back of his neck. “I don’t mean to gossip but I heard she might be pregnant.”

  Sadie’s eyes beat Sawyer’s earlier expression.

  “Oh,” I say. “Do you know who the...who the daddy is?”

  “Julia!” Sadie says, choking on the water she was attempting to drink.

  “I’m sorry. That’s an inappropriate question.”

  “It doesn’t matter. I don’t think you’d know the father. I heard it’s....well, I heard it’s some boy from Charleston’s baby.”

  “Oh dear.”

  “Yeah. Sad.”

  “Extremely,” I agree.

  Sawyer peers out the colorful glass windows.

  “Walk home with me?” Sawyer asks, throwing his shoulder the direction of the door.

  Sunday, at church, my family sits two rows behind Elliott Gray’s family and I find myself wondering what he was doing yesterday with Robyn Larson. I really like her, despite her unfortunate reputation. She’s kind to everyone. I think she just forgets to show herself the same kindness.

  He repeatedly shoots glances over his shoulder at me. I train my eyes to focus on the light fixture hanging from the rafter above his head. I wish so badly for him to ignore me. The body shivers, the heart aches, the chest tingles. They’re all proving to be too m
uch with his longing looks stacked on top.

  After the service, most Sundays, the families meet at Babe’s restaurant in Roanoke. We all pile into the overstuffed room and talk and laugh. I sit down and surprisingly Robyn Larson sits directly beside me just as Elliott Gray walks through the door. His tall form is highlighted from behind by the sun, casting a glow around his body. His blue eyes pierce through me and I almost topple over in my chair. Robyn catches me with a giggle.

  “Hi,” she says.

  “Hi,” I say back.

  “Remember last year when you tried to be my friend?” She jumps in.

  “Uh,” I laugh, “yeah.”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t give you the chance you deserved.”

  I clear my throat, “It’s cool.”

  “It’s not. Yesterday I had a chat with a good friend of mine and he sort of helped me sort through a lot of things I’ve been going through lately. I mentioned that you tried to help me once and he told me you were exactly the kind of girl I should be friends with and I couldn’t agree more. So, friends?” She asks, holding out her hand.

  “Friends,” I say and squeeze her hand.

  “I’m glad because I’m going to need one.”

  “Well, a friend in need is a friend indeed.” I shake my head. “Sorry, that was lame. I’m out of practice.”

  “No, it kind of wasn’t,” she says through fought tears.

  “You okay?” I asked and pushed my shoulder into hers.

  “Yeah. Well, I mean, I will be. I suppose,” she cleared her throat, “I suppose you may have heard a rumor or two about me?”