Our Song (4 page)

Standing barefoot in the cool, damp grass, I watched through the window as the kitchen lights went on and my father sat down with a glass of scotch. After a few minutes he got up and stood by the door, stirring the cubes around his glass as he peered outside. It was almost like he knew I was there.

I retreated further back along the footpath so he wouldn’t see me, even though I knew I was invisible in the black night. I felt a sharp jab in my side as I passed the greenhouse. The moonlight cast shadows of the headless, flowerless orchids inside, making them loom large against the glass, like killer plants.

The last time I had been in the greenhouse was three months ago, with Derek, the night before Christmas break. He had always wanted to fool around in there, but I always resisted. The idea of lying in the dirt surrounded by glass walls made me feel more exposed than usual. But he said it would be the best present I could ever give him.

My top was off and my pants unzipped when my mother came barging in looking for her gardening log. Leave it to Derek to think on his feet, he instantly flattered my mother on her
impressive collection of plants. That was all it took for her to launch into a long-winded lecture on the history of the orchid while I huddled in the corner feeling around for my shirt. Derek had wanted to have sex really badly that time. If my mother hadn’t ruined it, maybe we would have. Maybe my first time would have been that night.

I slid down on the grass and leaned back against the willow tree. I stared ahead at the house. It was only a few hundred feet away, but it might as well have been a few hundred miles. It felt like a thick glass wall had been erected in my absence. The one-way kind, where I could see in, but no one could see out.

The kitchen light finally went out and I sank deeper into the cool earth. I looked up at the sliver of moon poking through the layers of feathery branches, at the smattering of stars shining through, casting a soft glow across my body. I pretended they were beaming down on some other town. On some other girl.

Not me.

ANNIE PICKED ME
up at eight o’clock on the dot. She was never on time.

“Look at you! So prompt,” I said, sliding into the front seat of her 1977 turquoise Volkswagen Beetle. Annie could pull off the whole retro-cool vibe, but if I were the one behind the wheel, the irony would have been completely lost and there’d be nothing retro or cool about it. Like I’d ever get behind the wheel again.

“NO. WAY.” She was yelling at the radio, in response to a caller’s request. “That song totally sucks! There should be some kind of veto system for people with such horrible taste. Where’s my phone?!”

She scrambled around in her purse with one hand while simultaneously pulling away from the curb, the old engine chugging like a caboose. She was addicted to the Bobby and Darin morning show and had their request line on speed dial. The one time she actually got through, we were already in class when her song came on the air. But that didn’t stop her from trying. Or from having daily one-way arguments with the deejay.

“Wow, you look great, Ol,” she said as the sound of a busy signal filled the air.

“A shower and real clothes kind of help.”

“I don’t know. I think you rocked hospital gown chic.”

“Um, yeah. No thanks. I’ll be happy if I never see another hospital gown.”

“Did my ears hear that correctly? Does this mean that your die-hard devotion to
Hailey’s Clinic
has finally come to an end?”

“Guess so.” I shrugged, thinking about last night.

“Now that’s cause for celebration.”

“You’re such a snob.” The only shows Annie normally watched were costume period dramas on PBS or artsy foreign films with subtitles.

“That’s what Jessica says,” Annie laughed.

Jessica was Annie’s best friend from her old school in L.A., before she moved to Vista Valley in the fifth grade. They lost touch for a while but reconnected last summer when they worked at the same camp. They were pretty much inseparable after that, or as inseparable as you can be when you live thirty miles apart.

“You know that ‘snob’ is just another way of saying I have excellent taste.” Annie reached over and turned up the volume. “Finally! A song I can get behind. You almost lost me, Bobby and Darin, you almost lost me.”

“How is Jessica?” I asked. “Have you guys been able to talk much?”

Jessica moved to Paris with her family just after Christmas. It happened suddenly, when her mom got one of those job
offers you can’t refuse. Even though she didn’t say it, I could tell that Annie missed her. She cared about Jessica a lot, but I never felt jealous. Somehow, our friendships felt different. They didn’t compete or overlap. It was kind of like the way I had room for both Derek and Annie in my life. They fulfilled different needs.

“It’s hard with the time difference.” She made a sudden left onto Pine. Thankfully, she was taking the long route, the one that avoided Hyacinth Circle.

With that thought, the volatile sounds came slamming back into my head, like even the act of avoidance was a reminder. I stared at the clock’s blinking red lights. If I focused hard enough, I could squeeze the sounds out until they blended together into a fuzzy hiss.

I leaned my head against the seat and stared out at the view whizzing past. It was all the same, one perfect storybook house after another, block after block. A series of immaculately trimmed flowers and hedges and glistening minivans, scenes of cheerful mothers in sweater sets with their stiff smiles, waving goodbye to the rectangular yellow vehicles carting their children away. I felt a pang in my chest as I thought back to when I was one of those pigtailed kids on the bus, with my own cheerful mother waving me off. Life was so simple back then.

Life was so simple up until two weeks ago.

“You all right?” Annie asked, glancing over.

“Mm-hmm.” I dug my fingers into the cracked leather seat. Every passing block brought us that much closer to school. I thought about my Facebook page and how no one seemed to
notice I was gone. But maybe it’d be different when I got to school. Maybe it’d be just like walking in to your own surprise party after you thought everyone’d forgotten your birthday. Maybe everyone was just waiting to see me to say how worried they were, how much they missed me, how happy they were that I was back. Maybe that’s what Derek was waiting for, too.

“I wish you’d stop thinking about him,” Annie said. It was eerie how she could get inside my head like that. “Don’t even try to deny it.”

“Wow.” I made a show of looking at the flashing red numbers on the dashboard clock. It was an hour behind. Annie never got around to changing it for daylight savings, so it was only correct for half the year. “It only took you five whole minutes to bring him up.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been keeping my mouth shut for the last two weeks, not to mention the last two
years
.”

Derek was the one thing we hardly ever talked about. It was definitely a giant omission given he was practically my whole life, but Annie made her feelings about him clear right at the start. As far as she was concerned, he was arrogant, selfish, and a Republican on top of it all. I tried to convince her that it didn’t make him a bad person. She just didn’t know the real Derek the way I did. The one who helped me with my homework and hid funny notes in my school bag. The one who brought me chicken soup from Nate’s Deli when I was sick and cute souvenir teddy bears when he came home from family vacations.

“He doesn’t deserve you Ol,” she said, waving her arms around for emphasis.

“The road,” I said as the car wavered over the double yellow line.

She repositioned her hands on the wheel. “The guy didn’t even have the decency to come see you in the hospital!”

Just hearing it out loud was like getting a kick to the stomach. “It’s not that simple.”

When Annie had asked me about the accident, I told her the same thing I had told my parents: why I was in a hurry that night, why I was in Derek’s car. When she also pressed me about why he never called, I told her to stop asking.

She let out a frustrated sigh. “At least tell me you’re not going to just let him off the hook.”

Only that was exactly what I was planning to do. The sooner things went back to normal, the sooner I could put everything behind me. Behind
us
. “You don’t get it.”

How could she, when she’d never had a real relationship? How could she understand that when you find true love, there were certain things you became willing to accept, whatever the price? Annie was always so busy with her art and photography it was like she didn’t even notice that her love life was missing.

“I just hope that you really do,” she said, making a right onto Glen Oaks. The red brick building that housed Vista Valley High surfaced in the distance.

As we entered the school parking lot, traces of the sporadic melody grew more intense in my head, rising above the other clamoring sounds. It sounded as if it was being strummed out on the delicate strings of an acoustic guitar. The beat was slow and quiet, almost sweet-sounding, like a lullaby. But the thing
about lullabies is that beneath their dulcet rhythms lurks something darker, like a warning or a harbinger of danger to come.

I strained my neck, scanning the row of cars for a pop of red in the sea of mostly white, silver, and black SUVs. I knew it was impossible; I’d seen the pictures. But still, I secretly hoped that Derek’s Mini had magically survived, just like I had.

“Hello, you’re in the way,” Annie said, slamming on the brakes. Katie Richards and Melanie Garcia, two girls from our grade, stepped out into the car’s path. “It’s not like I’m some Prius sneaking up on them,” she said, revving the engine for emphasis.

Katie had recently started dating one of Derek’s friends from the debate team, and the two of us were just starting to become friends. I started to say hi but stopped mid-wave when Katie glanced over her shoulder and turned away. She hurried off, whispering something to Melanie. My stomach tightened into a ball of knots.

“Here, take these.” Annie removed her giant pink plastic sunglasses and handed them to me. “It’s going to be fine.”

“You better be right,” I said, slipping them on. The dark shades dimmed the sunshine and all the surrounding bright colors. It reminded me of being in the garden last night, safe under the cover of darkness. I had stayed until dawn, staring at the fractured moon, the smattering of stars across the sky. They shone so brightly, like tiny diamonds, until they gradually faded away as the sun rose.

“I’m always right,” she said, pulling into an empty spot.

“Not that you’re arrogant or anything,” I teased. She sounded
just like Derek. They were both so confident and sure of themselves. It was one of the things I loved and envied most about them. Sometimes I wondered if the real reason Annie didn’t like Derek was that they were actually alike. More than either of them would ever admit.

I pulled the visor lower and checked myself out in the mirror. “Wow.” The pink frames covered half my face. I was almost unrecognizable. “I never thought I’d say this, but I actually like the way these look on me.”

“They’re yours,” Annie said. She opened the glove compartment and pulled out an almost identical pair in black. She was obsessed with accessories, especially sunglasses. She said the right style could determine your whole vibe. Though the reason I liked the glasses had nothing to do with the way they framed my cheekbones or complemented my outfit. I liked them because wearing them helped me feel like someone else.

We rounded the building and joined a steady stream of students heading toward the entrance. It was like stepping onto one of those moving sidewalks in an airport. The flow of people kept pushing me forward. I couldn’t step off even if I wanted to. Once inside, I took off the sunglasses, immediately shielding my eyes from the bright fluorescent lights. The sound of the clanking metal lockers and the roar of overlapping conversations were practically deafening. Just being here around so many people was like an assault to my senses. Squinting, I checked the time on the massive clock above the front doors. The first bell was going to ring any minute.

I bolted toward the back stairs. It was the fastest route to
our lockers. I didn’t want to miss the chance to catch Derek before he disappeared in the Pioneer. That was what the debate team called their practice room, but it really felt more like a private club with a strict members-only policy. In the two years we’d been dating, I hadn’t been inside once.

“Hey, slow down,” Annie said, shuffling behind me with at least five bags flying off her.

“Maybe you should travel lighter.” Between her schoolbooks, her camera equipment, her lunch cooler, and whatever else she deemed necessary to lug around, she was also known as the Bag Lady.

The first bell rang. “I don’t want to be late my first day back,” I said, taking the steps two at a time.

“We still have seven minutes until the second bell!” she huffed from a few steps behind.

The closer I got, the faster my legs moved, like they were trying to outpace the quickening beat of my heart. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through me. When I got to the third-floor landing, I leaned against the wall in the empty stairwell, trying to collect myself. I needed to act as calm and normal as possible when I walked through the doors.

Annie appeared beside me and I turned to face her. “Do I look okay?”

“Beautiful,” she said, brushing the hair off my face.

I pulled the heart pendant out from under my shirt and walked through the double doors. As we made our way down the hall, it suddenly grew quieter, like regular conversation had given way to hushed whispers. I could practically feel everyone’s
eyes boring into my back. It was mostly freshmen at this end of the hall so I shook it off, telling myself it was normal, that the freshmen always knew who the seniors were.

But it was the same when we got to the senior section at the other end of the floor. The only difference was that everyone seemed to look the other way as I passed, like they were deliberately avoiding my gaze. It was exactly what Katie had done in the parking lot.