The Understorey Book One of The Leaving Series Page 6

  “What? That you’re extraordinarily kind?” I tease.

  She laughed.

  “Maybe you caught wind of the one that said something along the lines of ‘Robyn Larson is pregnant’?”

  “I may have heard that from a little birdie.”

  She grinned and brought a tissue to her nose.

  “Well, it was true.”

  “Was?”

  “Yeah, well, it’s a long story but the gist of it is this; I fell in love with a boy who I later found out was mature enough to have sex but not to have a baby.”

  My half smile fell from my face.

  “What happened Robyn?”

  “I was ready to have the baby. It wasn’t the snotty nosed kid’s fault, ya’ know?” She said through tears. “Anyway,” she continued, “I planned on giving it up for adoption. It just felt like what I needed to do, for me, anyway. My choice was to fix the mess I had made and the only way I could really be okay with that was by giving it up.”

  I’m surprised by this.

  “You’re kind of a bad ass you know that?”

  “I felt like one.” She smiled. “The friend I told you about earlier encouraged me to give it up when I was struggling with what to do, even went with me to the adoption agency and everything. He helped show me that making the hardest decision of my life could also be about giving the greatest gift of my life. I was really happy, truly happy Julia. No regrets.” She wiped more tears away. “I was about three months along when I miscarried.”

  “Oh Robyn, I’m so, so sorry.”

  “I am too. Honestly, it felt so good to think I could give my child what my mom never could. I’m the way I am because that’s the way she is, ya’ know?”

  I nodded before prodding her shoulder with mine.

  “You still can you know.”

  “What?” She asked.

  “Give your children what your mom couldn’t. Just wait a little while,” I winked encouragingly.

  She laughed and pushed her bangs from her forehead.

  “Trust me. I’ve never been as clearheaded in my life as I am right now.”

  “Well, clearheaded Robyn, now you have a somewhat clearheaded friend to take the journey with you.”

  We both grin at our feet but when I look up, I see Robyn’s friend smiling at the two of us. His blue eyes freeze with mine and my breath catches in my throat.

  “So,” Robyn says, peering in Elliott’s direction, “Elliott Gray tells me you like to paint.”

  “He....He told you that?”

  Elliott looks away like he knew we were talking about him. I glance back at Robyn.

  “Yeah, says you’re really talented.”

  “He said that?”

  “Yeah, he’s the one who asked me to paint your locker for you.”

  “What! Robyn, that was you?" I friend-hit her. "You are amazing. Do you know that?”

  “Not as amazing as you from what he says,” she jokes. “He rambled on and on while I did it. ‘Did you know Julia has painted since she was seven?’ or ‘Did you know that Julia has her own studio?’. I have to admit, by the end of it, I was ready to pull out my hair as well as his.”

  We both laughed.

  “Elliott got you to paint my locker for me?”

  “Seriously,” she clears her throat. “And he’d kill me for telling you this but do you want to know why?”

  “Why?” I ask hesitantly.

  “Because Taylor Williams is an obnoxious brat and wrote some pretty nasty stuff on the front of your locker after school on Monday. Elliott caught her doing it.”

  “No.” I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “He dragged her snooty butt to the Principal's office. The Principal wanted Taylor to clean it up but Elliott asked for permission to cover it instead and since they pretty much do whatever their star quarterback wants, she let him. He really capitalized on that too.” She laughed. “That’s where I came in. We were up there pretty early Tuesday morning just to get it done by the time you came in. He wanted to make sure you didn’t know about it.”

  I swallow the sob building in my throat.

  “He did that? For me?”

  “He did. Listen, he’s told me that he’s desperate to talk to you but that you won’t even look at him. I’m not sure what’s going on but will you do me a favor, now that we’re friends and all?”

  “What’s that?” I laughed.

  “Just hear what he has to say.”

  My grin fell before turning my gaze to Elliott.

  And with that, Robyn got up to leave. She waved and I smiled back, unsure of what to think or even what to feel.

  One thing was for sure, Elliott Gray was not who I thought he was.

  Which was all the more reason to fear him.

  Chapter Three

  Restraint, You Are A New Enemy

  Of Mine

  That Monday, I drove to school kind of early but not so early that there wouldn’t be kids in the lots. I stepped from my truck and slammed its door. The slam rang through the air and I caught the attention of Jake Sotheby.

  “Jake! Hey Jake!”

  “Hey, Elliott. What’s up? You ready for Friday’s game?”

  That was all anybody thought I was good for and all they ever wanted to talk to me about. I was popular but for a singular purpose.

  “Yeah, I’m ready. Hey, do you know Julia Jacobs?”

  “Yeah, dude. Everybody knows Julia. She’s hot but really weird. Why?”

  Hot but weird. Maybe I would be throwing the first punch.

  “Oh, nothin’. Does she park in our lot?”

  I knew she was in the other lot but I asked a general question to fish for something more specific.

  “No dude. She’s in Lot A. She has the spot across from Casey Wuthers.” He smiled. “Why? You thinkin’ about tackling that?”

  “What the hell does that mean?” I asked seriously.

  “Nothing. See you at practice.”

  He knew I wasn’t going to play along. No wonder Jesse likes that guy so much. They share a one track mind. Jerk.

  So, plan A was finding Jesse because he parked in the same lot and plan B was ‘running’ into Casey Wuthers, a girl I barely knew but was cool enough with that I could still approach her without it being weird. Honestly, all I wanted was a glimpse of Jules. One more glimpse to add to the millions I had already stolen but this time I needed to see her so it would give me the courage to do what I needed to later that day. The first time I would see her each day would send me hurdling into an anxiety attack. I figured if I saw her early enough, I could be as relaxed as possible by the time we had class together. I had about a million things I wanted to say to her, whether she would respond or not didn’t matter. I needed them off my chest, for my sanity’s sake.

  The ironic part is I knew she searched for me too. That’s what killed me the most. It confused the heck out of me. I often caught her eyes on mine like they were that day in Chemistry but she would always make herself appear distracted immediately after. She cracked me up. I was never in control enough to do anything like that. I think she got a small kick out of torturing me but that was okay. Her pretend frostiness was just another thing I liked about her. She was feisty.

  I cut through the school toward Jules’ lot. Her car was there. I searched around but Jesse was running late, as usual, and Casey Wuthers’ car was there but she wasn’t. Well, crud. While searching for someone else, anyone that I may have even had the slightest acquaintance with, I caught Jules walking through the parking lot toward me and for reasons beyond my control I found my feet carrying me forward. I was close enough that words came out of their own accord, providing me with an involuntary plan C.

  “Jules?” I confidently asked, seconds from collapsing.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Julia?” I nearly shouted.

  She walked right past me and I, against my better judgment, followed suit. Before I could reach her she was already through the doors. I
picked up my pace, tossed open the school’s double doors and raced into the hall. When the doors opened, the air spilling in from the outside tossed her hair about her face and carried that honeysuckle-orange scent rolling towards me. I recovered from the fragrant punch and when I caught up with her dug my hands into my pockets to keep from seizing her in my arms. The last thing I wanted was an electric shock to spook her away from me again. I wound my way around the other students in the crowded hall, leaned over her shoulder and spoke closely into her ear.

  “Jules, can I talk to you?”

  Goosebumps rose on the flesh of her neck. I had gotten her attention. Though she didn’t confirm it with that pouty bottom lip, I had definitely caught her attention. She stopped at her locker and began to spin its dial. Alright, two can play at this game.

  “Jules,” I sighed, casually leaning my shoulder against the locker next to hers. I kept my hands in my pockets for safekeeping. “Seeing that you won’t talk to me, I guess I’ll talk to you. I want to know what we’re going to do about what happened in the hall outside Mrs. Kitt’s class, and inside her class, and every time we’ve seen each other since? I’m dying here.” I pulled my hands from my pockets and ran them through my hair but put them back, just in case. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I dream about you all day. Against my will, you’ve polluted my thoughts.”

  She turned, wide eyed, angry and mouth agape. Just the effect I wanted.

  “I never said I didn’t like it,” I amended with a smile.

  She turned back to her locker.

  “I know you’re feeling the same things,” I continued.

  She rolled her eyes.

  “I can tell I affect you Jules. You can’t hide it.”

  “You do not,” she finally spoke.

  And her voice was like velvet. I almost melted into a puddle onto the floor.

  “I know I do. You’ve restarted the combination to your locker seven times Jules.”

  Her fingers dropped from the dial, she raised her head and stared straight ahead.

  “I just remembered. I don’t need anything from my locker,” she said stoically.

  She turned and walked off, her hair brushing my arm as she stalked away. Even her hair bit with the literal electricity we shared.

  “See you second period!” I yelled, very satisfied at the seemingly meaningless conversation. I knew the truth though. There were deeper meanings behind everything she did, the little she had said, and the way her body avoided mine, avoided the touch that she was obviously denying existed. She was scared. Can’t tell you how I knew it, she didn’t wear the emotion at all but she was scared and I had plans to change that. Jules was beginning to infect my brain and the only antidote I could think to alleviate the pain was more Jules. I went to first period alone with my own thoughts and a smile that caught the attention of every girl I walked by.

  Walking to Mrs. Kitt’s class felt like the longest trip of my life. My legs felt heavy with anticipation knowing the fight that Jules was probably going to put up, but I was ready. Metaphorical punches, mom. Metaphorical. I had no clue what I was going to say to her. I could think of no plan of action during first period and ultimately decided to go with my gut. I hesitated slightly because unplanned conversations with Jules had proved disastrous before, i.e. the teeth debacle, but winging it at her locker didn’t turn out so badly so I went with my instinct.

  I had a good feeling she’d bring up the bookstore and I had at least planned on being honest there. I didn’t care if she believed me or not. Either way, I wasn’t going to let her make me feel like I purposely did it and that was that.

  I stood outside the door to Mrs. Kitt’s class and took a deep breath before swinging it open. I choked and coughed on the deep breath I took when I saw her face and the whole class lifted their head noticing me briefly, except for Jules. Smooth, very smooth. She glanced from the corner of her eye and the nerves that tingled in her stomach tingled in mine.

  Thanks to the supernatural phenomenon that was our electricity, I was privy to everything Jules felt. If the feeling was powerful enough, I could feel it without even touching her which explained the butterflies we shared in that moment. It was an understood knowledge that welled inside my chest and I was never so grateful for anything before in my life. It told me what I wanted to know.

  I sat next to her and began to lean in but before I could say anything, Mrs. Kitt had started passing out our seriously delayed textbooks, something about the printers making a mistake, and the donated paper covers from Justin Weber’s Auto Body Shop and asked us to wrap them.

  They were so stupid looking. On the front was obviously an older picture of Justin Weber because he was easily twenty pounds lighter in the picture than he was in real life. He was standing in front of his auto body shop and there was a rented sports car between himself and his garage. On the hood laid Kitty, in a fitted jumpsuit with Justin’s logo on the front. Kitty was Justin’s ex-girlfriend from Charleston who left him for a ‘big city’ man but he just wouldn’t let her go. “She’ll be back,” he’d always say. Poor guy, total denial. On the top in big letters it read, ‘Come to Justin’s. We’ll treat you right.’

  Jules had already begun to wrap her book. Her thin fingers carefully measured the folds and creased them attentively. She pressed the side of her thumb’s knuckle across the crease to make sure it took. She did this for all four sides of the cover but on the fourth crease accidentally gave herself a paper cut. The shared pain was sharp and intense and made me jump when she did. The throb subsided when she brought her knuckle to her tongue to soothe the ache. She looked over at me briefly, knowing full well I felt the slice.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “Yes, thank you,” she said, breathing heavily from the realization rather than the laceration.

  She turned back to her task. Jules was the only one who wrapped her book inside out so the paper would be blank and she could draw on it later. When she was done, I threw a dorky smile her way, and copied her, but for a very different reason. I took out my pen and wrote on the top of the cover in very small letters, bracing myself for the long fight it was going to take to erase whatever idea she had of who I was and what I wanted her to be to me.

  Hi.

  What do you want Elliott?

  Can we talk?

  About what?

  You know what.

  About your following me to Koan’s?

  I DID NOT follow you to Koan’s.

  Right.

  Exactly. I am right. It was a coincidence. Boy, you must think the world revolves around you.

  I do not! Don’t try to make me appear as if I’m imagining things. I’ve noticed you watching me.

  How would you even know that Jules? If you weren’t watching me as well?

  It’s Julia, Elliott. Class is about to start. I don’t have time for your games.

  She turned to her own notebook. I wrote and shoved the cover into her face.

  Are we ever going to talk about what happened the first day of school?

  She hesitated, but at last answered me.

  I have no idea what you’re talking about.

  Jules.

  My name is Julia, not Jules, Elliott. How many times do I have to tell you?

  I know that but I like Jules. I’ve noticed I’m the only one who calls you that. It makes me a part of you that only we share.

  She wasn’t expecting that answer and I could see when her eyes widened then quickly narrowed that she wasn’t exactly adverse to the idea. Whew.

  What’s your motivation?

  I have to have a motivation to talk to you?

  Boys like you always have a motivation.

  Boys like me, huh? You’ve never struck me as the type who read into stereotypes Jules. I didn’t know you were such a snob.

  I’m the snob? Spare me.

  What about the first day of school, huh? Did I act like a snob then? It seems to me that you’re the one who’s the snob. You’ve avoided
me like the plague. You see me coming and you run the other direction. I’ve gotten the cold shoulder from you for the past three weeks.

  She reached out her hand to yank the pen from mine in retaliation. Her finger grazed mine and the contact struck a sparkled heat between us. We pulled away as if they were hands held to a stove. Everyone around us were completely unaware of the netted lightning bolt that stuck us stiff to our seats and quieted us from its silently deafening effects. With trembling hands I wrote,

  There’s no denying that baby girl.

  You’re right. I cannot deny that, even if I wanted to.

  I looked at her, confused.

  Do you?

  What?

  Want to deny it?

  Kind of.

  You’re literally breaking my heart Jules. Am I really that bad?

  It’s not that. It’s just, I don’t trust you.

  Why?

  How do I know you’re the same Elliott Gray who would play with me on the rock bridge as kids? You seemed to have changed when we entered eighth grade. It seemed as if overnight we just stopped being friends.

  Maybe I was the snob.

  Oh, Jules. I’m sorry, really. I was an idiot and afraid of girls. Honestly, it seemed like you wanted nothing to do with me so I stopped talking to you.

  I wasn’t some girl Elliott. I was your friend. It was all so awkward that first day and I didn’t know what I had done. Only one day had passed since last we saw one another, but you ignored me as if we hardly knew each other at all. I admit, I did act as if I wanted nothing to do with you, but I was only doing that to protect myself from the way you were acting. I’m sorry too. I should have just come out and asked you.

  I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

  Again, I’m sorry. But, I have to admit, I’m kind of glad we ignored each other.

  That was mean.

  Ask me why Jules.

  Okay, why?

  Because, if we hadn’t grown apart maybe we never would have found our ‘thing’ and I kind of like our ‘thing’. Growing apart meant that we became the people we are today and you seem to be an amazing someone, whom I may have never noticed had we not grown up without each other. Our ‘thing’ may have gotten lost in the friendship. This brings me to my next question. What’s happening to us?