Collide (9 page)

“I was doing NOTHING Mom! Nothing! I closed
up the store and came straight home extremely carefully the way I
always do this time of year! I didn’t stop to eat, I didn’t stop to
shop, I didn’t stop to steal!”

“Don’t take that tone of voice with me, young
lady,” Mom said, her voice dark and calm, which was almost as bad
as if she had yelled back at the top of her lungs, but I couldn’t
stop.

“I made a mistake, a horrible, horrible
mistake, and I know that! I was stupid, I never should have done
it, I KNOW that!”

“Jane . . .,” Mom grated out, but the cork
had popped and I just bowled right over her. Words, thoughts,
emotions, they all blurred into a long waterfall of ranting filth
that I could no longer keep to myself, so I let go.

“You know what the worst thing is? It’s not
your constant suspicion and mistrust, it’s not having to chauffer
the twins around all over the place, oh no, it’s none of those
things.”

“Then please, tell me what the worst thing
is,” Mom said coldly.

“The worst thing . . . the worst thing . .
.,” I didn’t realize that I was crying until I tasted salt on my
lips and inhaled on a sob. “The worst thing is thinking that it’s
my fault that Maria vanished! I was supposed to meet her, and if I
hadn’t been stupid enough to take that dare and almost get caught,
then I would have been at our meeting place on time, and she
wouldn’t have been alone and whatever it is that happened wouldn’t
have happened! Whether she just decided to disappear the way some
people are saying or was actually taken somewhere, I don’t know,
but I would have been there and she would have been safe! And now
she’s having to go to all these doctors and can’t remember anything
that happened and she’s changed so much that she shoved me into my
car today when I confronted her about it and all I can sit there
and think is that it’s ALL MY FAULT!”

Mom stared at me as I stood there choking on
my breath, and I saw her eyes go to my bruised jaw. I didn’t care
if the argument, conversation, whatever was over or not, as far as
I was concerned it was done, and I pushed past her and bolted up
the stairs to my room. I didn’t do anything melodramatic like slam
the door, but I did shut it with a little more force than usual
before I dropped my book bag and sat down on the edge of my bed. I
made pathetic wheezing noises as I tried to regain control of my
emotions, my jaw muscles aching as I clenched my teeth around
another round of sobs.

Usually my room is a comfort to me. The walls
were a light green color that matched the light green leaves in my
comforter, and were decorated with artwork that I had purchased
from local artists in Asheville one summer. Shelves were filled
with dust collectors and other odds and ends such as my favorite
raven statue that Maria had given me in place of an actual stuffed
one. I was lucky with my own TV and DVD player, and cases that were
filled to over flowing with books, DVDs and CDs, though the books
outnumbered everything else by five to one. I had stacks of books
everywhere, on my desk, the bedside table, the floor and about ten
of them all had bookmarks holding my place for when I would dive
back into their worlds.

After a few moments of muscle aching control,
I got up and made my way into my bathroom, stripping off my
clothing as I went. I didn’t linger, I had already had a shower
earlier this morning so I just washed my hair and face before I
stepped out, toweled off, and pulled on my pajamas. I crawled into
bed and pulled up my comforter and snuggled into my covers as I
stared at the wall. At least I had completed all of my homework
during downtime at Baker’s. I curled into a little ball as I pulled
my comforter over my head and tried to ignore the slight nausea
that roiled through my stomach as my head pounded in time with my
heart. I hate emotional outbursts, no matter how justified they may
be, because while I might feel better for the release tomorrow,
right now I felt like a slug that had been dipped in salt.

About five minute passed and I had just
started to relax when a knock came on my door. I knew it was Mom,
and even though I really didn’t want to talk to her, I called for
her to come in. I made sure to keep my comforter over my head,
though. No idea why, it’s something I’ve always done since
childhood whenever I felt that I was in trouble and Mom was coming
to have A Talk with me. For some reason, it seems that hiding my
face helps to soften the blow of whatever unpleasant talk was about
to take place.

“Jane.”

My bed dipped under Mom’s weight, and I
tensed up slightly when she placed her hand on my shoulder. She
tugged lightly on the comforter.

“Jane, please, I want to see your face.”

I sighed and lowered the comforter enough to
peep out at her. Mom looked tired, her face was tense and slightly
grey and for the first time I thought that she actually looked her
age. That realization startled me enough that I lowered the
comforter the whole way down and sat up. She gazed at me silently,
then reached out and lightly touched my bruised jaw. I flinched
away.

“Maria really did that?”

“This afternoon. I’m surprised you didn’t
hear about it through Twitter.” Mom had become a major Twitter
addict after she had begun using it to tweet about events and
special occasions being held at the library. I had never really
gotten into it, and I considered that fact rather ironic,
considering how many of my friends and fellow students all had a
Twitter account. I preferred to stick with Facebook for my random
updates.

“Nothing has come through on the library feed
about it. What happened?”

I stared at her, and the whole story poured
out of me. Maria’s weird changes, how she was suddenly snapping at
people and had actually yelled at Jessica during lunch and I
eventually finished with my confrontation of her and how Maria had
whispered “I don’t know” when I asked her what was going on, only
to get shoved hard enough that my face had made intimate friends
with my car’s hood. I tasted salt again and realized that tears
dripped down my cheeks, but I didn’t care. It felt good to get the
story out to someone who actually knew Maria and understood just
why I was worried and upset about what was going on. Mom was silent
as I talked, and it was so nice just being able to talk to her
again, too, without feeling that I was walking on eggshells or in
danger of setting her off that I cried even harder. Shudders
wracked my body as I heaved air into my lungs.

“Jane, you broke my trust in you when you
shoplifted, but you also disappointed me because I know I’ve raised
you to be better than that.”

“I know.”

Mom sighed. “What you’re telling me about
Maria is really troubling, and I wonder if her parents are aware of
what’s going on. But, I also wanted to tell you that I’m sorry, I
didn’t realize that you were blaming yourself for Maria’s
disappearance.”

I stayed quiet, suddenly too tired to
comment, though I wanted to tell her that Maria’s father most
likely hadn’t noticed the change, and that her mom was probably too
busy planning her next “Welcome Home Maria” party to pay attention
to her daughter and what was going on behind the scenes. Mom seemed
to pick up my unvoiced thoughts because she sighed and rubbed my
shoulder again.

“You need to stop blaming yourself, and in a
way, I guess I should be strangely thankful that you were stupid
and did what you did. If you hadn’t, and had been with Maria, well,
if she was actually taken instead of running off, you could have
been taken, too. And I don’t know what I would have done if you had
vanished for seven days the way she did. I’m still disappointed in
you, and it will take a while before I trust you again, but at the
same time, I’m very, very thankful that you’re still here.”

I stared at her and my eyes welled with tears
yet again as I threw my arms around her and hugged her for all I
was worth. I apologized over and over as Mom patted my back.

“All right, calm down, you’re going to give
yourself a headache.”

“Too late for that,” I laughed weakly. Mom
shook her head and pulled the comforter up to my shoulders and
tucked me in like I was a small child again. She leaned down to
give me a kiss on the cheek.

“Good night, Jane. And don’t worry too much,
I’m sure that the doctors will find out what’s going on with
Maria.”

I lay awake long after Mom left and mulled
over her words, but I was unable to shake the strange, niggling
thought that she was wrong. The doctors wouldn’t figure out what
was wrong with Maria. I don’t know why that was or how I knew it,
but I did know that I wasn’t going to give up. She would be on
guard against doctors, and expect them to ask probing questions.
She wouldn’t, hopefully, be too on guard against me. Though
considering the lovely bruise I now sported, I might not have any
more success than them. But I was going to try. I just wished I
could figure out how Akira fit into all of this. I couldn’t shake
the feeling that there was more to his probing questions about
Maria than simple curiosity.

With that thought I rolled over and snuggled
deeper under the covers. If my head still hurt tomorrow I’d stay
home, I was susceptible to migraines (Maria, during one of her
hippy holistic living phases, had claimed that my excitable temper
was the cause of all my migraines and had suggested that I listen
to meditative music at least twice a day, but I gave up when I kept
falling asleep), and it would give me a chance to come up with a
plan on how to deal with Maria and Akira. I also hoped that I could
avoid another confrontation with the fangirl brigade. I’d like to
think that my warning to Sheryl would get back to the rest of them,
but teenagers, especially fellow teenaged girls, are rather stupid
when their hormones are involved.

Chapter Five

I woke up migraine free the next morning. The
only thing I could figure is that telling Mom about my worries and
fears regarding Maria, and what I believed to be my role in what
happened to her, helped to relieve a lot of the tension that I had
been under.

I heard the wind blowing around my window
with an eerie whistling, and considering that we were well into
fall I knew that it would be bitingly cold even if the weather
channel had called for rather mild temperatures. The mountains were
moody, one minute you would be drowning in the condensation on your
skin thanks to the humidity and the next you’d be freezing from a
blast of icy wind as a storm system moved through.

I dragged my book bag down the stairs and
ignored the dull thuds as it bounced behind me. I paused in the
kitchen doorway, surprised when no one else was anywhere near the
table. The laptop wasn’t even set up yet for our usual morning
Skype with Dad, but then I remembered he had a meeting again so I
shrugged off the disappointment and started to scrounge for food. I
wasn’t in the mood to actually try and cook something, so I settled
for the common morning meal of cold cereal and milk. I had munched
my way through half a bowl when my brothers came in followed by
Mom.

“Starting next week the boys will be going to
school again with Ryder and his family.”

The twins let out a happy cheer while I just
stared, my spoon suspended somewhere between my bowl and my open
mouth. Milk dripped off the edge and splashed onto the table. I
quickly set it down before I dropped it. Last thing I had heard was
that I was going to be stuck chauffeuring the twins around for the
rest of my life, or until they turned sixteen, whichever came
first.

Mom met my startled gaze and gave me a half
smile as she encouraged the twins to head off and finish getting
ready for school.

“I thought about it last night, and called
your father, and he agreed that you’re punishing yourself enough
that heaping more on you would be bad for your mental well being. I
still want regular updates on your whereabouts, and I want you home
before eleven o’clock unless you’re working overtime at Baker’s,
but otherwise, you no longer have to take the boys back and forth
to school.”

“Thank you, Mom,” I said as I got to my feet
and hugged her. A little more of the weight I had carried since
that night lifted.

Blessed silence descended upon my car once I
dropped the boys off because they had just flat out refused to shut
up about how happy they were to be riding to school with Ryder
again. I was a good big sister, though, and didn’t snap at them
that I was glad to just be rid of them. I only had two more days of
playing chauffeur, and figured I could make them as pleasant as
possible for everyone involved. Besides, if I upset them enough,
Mom could change her mind and saddle me with them again for the
rest of the school year if she were so inclined.

I still couldn’t believe that Mom had lifted
that particular duty from my shoulders and that Dad had agreed with
her. I knew my parents were fair minded but I was always under the
impression that when it came to their kids that level perspective
turned into something a little less stable. After all, through
Maria’s parents I had seen the effects of a less than stable view
when it came to their only child. Their separation had been almost
soap operaish, with it beginning on facebook and then all sorts of
public screaming and accusations being hurled, and that was before
they had tried to use Maria to hurt the other by asking what her
opinion had been. She had called me shortly after that episode and
had told me that she had very calmly informed them both that she
thought they were immature morons before she locked herself in her
room and worked on her windowsill herb garden. It had been hard
seeing her go through that, but it got even harder when discussions
regarding who would get custody and what visitation rights would be
began. While I could tell she had been bending under the strain
prior to her disappearance, Maria had still managed to keep a
rather cheerful outlook on things as she hoped for a smaller house
that required less electricity to run.