Dream Smashers (13 page)

But I still can’t answer. Up close, she is
kind of scary-looking, with leather skin covered up with a massive
amount of make-up that clings to each wrinkle, enhancing their
appearance. The beige seats in the back of the roadster are ripped
and long threads dangle from their wounds. Dirt cakes the cream
colored car so thick that someone left a message, ‘Eat Me,’ on the
driver’s door.

“Hey. You Jacinda’s kid or not?”

“What’s it to you?” Angel stands next to my
statue-body. “She don’t have to talk to nobody if she don’t want
to.”

“Yeah. You look just like your mother. Of
course you’re Jacinda’s girl.” Darla winks at me and then she
glares at Angel and points. “And you, Angelica Cox, you tell your
mother she owes me. Big time, you hear?”

“Whatever.” Angel rolls her eyes and jerks my
arm away from the car.

Darla’s face crinkles more, if that’s
possible. Little crevices open up between her painted-on eyebrows.
Rainy had been right. Deep down, I’m sure I knew all along that Ms.
Lightheart didn’t exist. Maybe I needed something to have faith in.
Something or someone. I chose wrong because before me is a dream
smasher, pure and true to the very root of the definition.

“Come on Autumn, let’s go.” Angel wraps her
arm through mine. We crunch through leaves on the sidewalk away
from the dream smasher.

The engine revs, the skinny tires screech for
a moment and then the once-was-perfect car farts again. I don’t
look back. Summer has ended, autumn is at a close, and winter
weighs heavy on my heart. It’s a harsh feeling when that happens.
When the trees go bare, lonely sticks floating in the cold air, and
when the sun stays hidden for days at a time. When there are no
flowers to bring color, no birds to bring a cheerful background
song, no bees, no bugs, only nothingness. When you realize that it
won’t be another six months until life shows itself again.

Empty, dead, gray.

I wish Evan was here.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Monday, October 12
^th

I sit in the cafeteria, waiting for Rainy.
School is weird. Not in the sense of freakish weird, but more along
the lines that we are actually going weird. Both of us. Every day
since she returned last Wednesday. Rainy insists on getting to
class on time, which is a bit hard for me to fathom. They didn’t
send her to rehab like we were told, but to California to stay with
her grandmother she never met before. She only stayed there for a
few days. I’m not sure what miracle occurred while she was there to
cause her transformation. But whatever it was, it’s stuck with her
these past few days.

Think of Rainy and she appears, skipping into
the cafeteria. Well, not skipping, but walking with an extra beat
to her step, red sucker in mouth, dark glasses on eyes, giant,
Madonna-like bow in hair, and lace gloves on hands. Typical.
Attached to Rainy, these items make their way to the once deserted
table where I’ve crashed my backpack and body into a hard plastic
chair. We have our own table now. On occasion people come visit us,
but for the most part, we’ve been hanging-out in Lonerville for a
few days.

Rainy pulls the sucker from her mouth. “Dude!
Did you see that Angel chick hanging all over the new guy with the
leather jacket?” She shoves the sucker back between her cheek and
teeth, giving her the very attractive tumor-on-face look. “I bet
she’s slept with a ton of guys before.” She smacks her books onto
the table.

“Rainy, she’s really not that bad. Actually,
she’s pretty nice. Don’t you trust your brother to have any
taste?”

She rolls her eyes. “Whatever.”

I give her the one-over. “Did you change your
clothes? I could have sworn you were wearing jeans this morning.
No, I’m positive you wore Levi’s because I’m wearing my Levi’s and
I specifically remember thinking how weird it was that we both
decided to wear our Levi’s on the same day.”

“Yeah, I missed fourth period because my
home-ec partner decided she would prefer to see the cake mix all
over me instead of in the pan.” She sighs, crinkles her nose, and
smoothes her black stretch pants with her hand.

I laugh out loud. The thought of Rainy trying
to cook at all is a joke, but imagining her wearing the food is a
giggle free-for-all.

“Oh! And get this. There was a voicemail on
my cell phone. Caleb wants to go out on a double-date this
weekend!” She lets out an uncharacteristic squeal.

I freeze, hoping that the squeal will go
away. It does, but her smile doesn’t—which is a good thing. “Don’t
do that ever again.”

She looks about the cafeteria. “I don’t even
know where that came from. He is cute though, huh?”

“Are you serious? I remember a time when he
wasn’t ‘all that’ and you ditched him.”

“That was then and this is now. You’ve got a
goody-goody-guy and it seems to be working out for you. Thought I’d
give it a try, too.” She pushes her books out of the way and plops
up onto the table. “Besides, I’m really digging the whole Jesus
stuff. Jesus-freaks aren’t so bad after all.”

I know exactly what she’s talking about. It’s
like I’ve found a single person in the world who I can ‘just be’
around. Someone who doesn’t care how messed up my parent is or how
cool I’m not at school. Don’t get me wrong, I’m cool, just not the
kind of cool that makes people popular. Me and Rainy are our own
special brand of cool.

“It’s a double-date? Like, with me and
Jesus-freak?” I ask.

“Yeah. They want to take us to downtown
Portland for dinner or something.”

“That’s an hour away. Besides, I don’t like
the city at night. Maybe we should hangout somewhere in town.”

“Drab,” she says.

“What do you suggest?”

A match ignites behind her eyes and she jumps
up from the table. “I’ve got a wicked boss idea!”

“Dare I ask?” I pull a red apple of delish
sweetness from my bag.

“Ice skating!”

My heart falls.

Immediate understanding flashes over her
face. “Oh, that sucks. I forgot.” Her bottom lip protrudes, a perch
for a tweety-bird. “My bad. Let me think.” She taps her
forehead.

“Don’t be such a dork. You can totally go ice
skating and I can watch you fools fall on your faces. That, in my
book, would be a ton more fun than strapping swords of death to my
feet.” For some reason, I’ve never been able to skate. Rainy has
tried to teach me, but every time, I hurt myself. Last year, when I
broke my ankle, Grams said, “No more skating. Ever again.”

“Yeah, well if you weren’t such a klutz.” She
shakes her head all sarcastic like.

“Ha!” I swing my fist, but she flinches away
from it.

“Slow and klutzy. Enduring qualities.” She
laughs.

“Whate-v-e-r!” I chomp into red skin and
juicy crisp apple pulp. “Don’t you have a class to be in or
something?”

“On my way.” She grabs her books off the
table. “I guess your Jesus-freak isn’t needed to volunteer on
Friday—frigging saint—and will pick us up after school that
day.”

“How do you know this stuff? Did you call
Sylvia Brown before coming back to school or what?”

“Dude. I told you that Caleb called.” She
rolls her eyes and skips toward her next class, her
too-much-moussed-hair bouncing behind her.

The bell rings. Great, now I’m late.

On my way to class, Angel dances through the
hall toward me. Her hair breezes and eyes jog. I still don’t know
what’s up with her and the super-model thing. “Hey Autumn.” She
turns her nose up out of habit, I think.

“Hi.”

“You still up for dancing at Scour?” she
asks.

“Ugh. Really?”

“Yes. It’s crazy cool. Promise.” She
continues dancing down the hall to wherever she’s going. “I’ll call
you.”

So not looking forward to dancing—a fate
worse than death. Or ice skating, even.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Friday, October 16
^th

Indoor ice skating. Home of the brave and
crazy—the delusional people who think they are meant to dance on
ice. To glide, flip, and jostle their way around and around and
around a big giant chunk of flat, slippery water complete with
music and flashing lights to create the psychedelic experience. Um,
no, I don’t think so.

“You sure you’ll be okay sitting here?” Evan
puts a warm arm around my shoulder.

I shudder. “Uh huh. I’ll be more than
okay.”

“Ha! She’s safer here. Believe me when I say
this.” Rainy pushes between us and laughs. “You should have seen
her the last time she tempted her luck on skates. Dude, that was
fricking awesome. You should have been there.”

“Shut up.” I sit on the purple carpeted bench
and lean against the matching carpeted wall. From here, I have a
perfect view of what will be a night of splendid entertainment.

Rainy finishes tying up her skates with neon
green laces, grabs Caleb’s hand and ventures out onto the ice rink.
“See ya chica.” She winks at me and merges into the world of
crazies.

Evan laughs under his breath while watching
them on the rink. “Amazing transformation. Don’t you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know. She looks the same to me.”
Actually, even more retarded than ever with a neon pink tutu around
her waist, striped stretch pants on her legs and pig-tails in her
hair. I wrap my plain tan sweater tighter around my front and brush
my plain brown hair out of my face.

His warm hand brushes my cheek, shooting a
glow of heat through my body. “No. That’s not what I mean.” His
hand moves to my hair and twirls a strand with one finger.

Breathless. Flushed. My ribs are caught in a
clamp—restricted from expanding and contracting.

His eyes, endlessly blue, soft, hold me with
only a look. Such looks are reserved for God’s graces, for things
of beauty, for sunsets and snow covered mountain tops. I am none of
these things, and yet, he looks. And he smiles.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Evan holds his breath. Her deep eyes, ever
concerned, ever loving, dissect, yet, still unbelievably kind. Soft
milky skin beneath Evan’s hand, silk hair around his finger, full
parted lips that he so desperately wants to touch.

There’s a feeling, Evan’s read about in
books, when two separate souls collide that were never meant to be
apart, but are. When nothing and everything matters and all the
protagonist sees is the beauty of creation—love—right in front of
his face. He always thought that was just fiction.

He thought wrong.

This feeling, it’s like the exhilaration of
winning first place of a half-marathon that he’s been training hard
for months, but better. Like jumping off a bridge into a pristine
emerald pool of crisp water, but better. Like skiing down Mount
Hood on a clear blue day with the sun shining through the
evergreens and perfect powder under his feet, but better.

Autumn smiles, blushes, breaking eye
contact.

“Hey,” Evan says. “Where you going?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

His breath is close, warm and sweet, and
real. Everything about Evan is real. He’s not a dream, though it
feels like he should be. One-hundred percent pure Evan. I’ll be
sure not to wash him—he might shrink.

Music plays in the background. Great,
Smells Like Teen Spirit
will be stuck in my head every time
I think about this moment. And I will always remember this moment
until the end of time. I’ve never felt anything like it.

He smiles, but not with his mouth or his
face, but with his energy. It beams out of every single intricate
cell that makes up the material part of this beautiful
creature—like invisible jelly-beans with flashlights.

How is this even possible? This feeling, like
nothing bad ever existed in the world. Nothing bad can happen with
him near. Ever.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Evan leans in, slow, gentle. She looks up at
him with anticipation. He stops, just inches away. Not because he
doesn’t want to kiss her, but because he wants to savor this moment
and memorize every second of it.

A small gasp escapes her mouth.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Fresh-baked oatmeal raisin cookies, the scent
of a fresh-cut Christmas tree, sand between my toes on a warm
summer day at the coast. My favorite things, the most awesome
things in the world, but none compare to his warm, strong lips. I
could totally live with him attached to me like this.

The television screens across America will
flash the breaking news: Two teens from Washington are attached at
the lips forever—it’s a good thing they like each other.

He pulls away, gently pulling the bandage,
slow and steady.

“Wow.” He sucks in his bottom lip, as if it’s
a piece of candy.

“Yeah,” I whisper back.

“Oh my fucking god!” Rainy screeches—ruining
everything—the same annoying squeal she gave the other day. This
better not become a regular thing. So annoying. “That was awesome.
Do it again. Caleb didn’t get to see it all.”

I can’t help but laugh. Nothing Rainy does
could possibly take this happy-OMG feeling away.

“Jesus-freak! Dude! You’ve gotta be some
kisser.” She plops down in between us. “Here plant one on me, let
me try.” She puckers her lips like a fish—if fish had lips.

I push her off us and she rolls on the floor
in a thunder of laughter. “Two little lovers sitting on a purple
carpeted bench at, like, an ice skating rink, K-I-S-S-I-N-G.”

Caleb puts his hand over his mouth, covering
his laugh.

“That’s okay. Laugh it up,” I say.

Evan pulls me close and holds me tight from
behind, his breath on my neck. Everything is right in the
world.

***

“Would you look at all the stars,” Caleb
says.

In unison, we gaze upward into the sparkly
sky of the universe. As we do, the lights from the ice rink switch
off. Closing time and no one around except for us, the pavement and
the stars.