Eliza's Shadow (2 page)

Aunt Jane
was the guardian angel I didn't deserve. When I came to live with her six years
ago, she welcomed me with open arms. She acted as if that was exactly what she
wanted in life, to be a parent before her time. She enrolled me in school. And
within a year, she had a contractor putting up permanent walls in her spacious
loft to carve out two bedrooms, solidifying my place. Everyday my understanding
deepened of what an inconvenience a scrawny ten-year-old niece could be to a
twenty-seven year old budding chef extraordinaire. Now, at sixteen, I just
hoped that I could give back some of what Jane had given to me.

I wandered
out of the bedroom trailing after the scent wafting down the hallway. Morning
light flooded the great room illuminating the rich colors and fabrics that
warmed the cavernous industrial space.

Jane had
spent her late teens and early twenties gallivanting around the world and our
loft reflected her journeys. Her platinum hair glittered as she moved around
the kitchen.

"Hey
babe, how'd you sleep?" She asked.

"Too
good, it took me two thunder rolls to remember it was Monday." I grumbled
loping up to the breakfast bar to watch her work.

It wasn't
just the food that Jane created that made her a fantastic chef. It was also the
way she worked, efficient, organized and creative. The kitchen tended to look
like a disaster site whenever I stepped into it but Jane could roll out a
five-course meal without misplacing a grain of salt.

"Yeah...
I thought you might be a little cranky this morning. How do strawberry and
Nutella crepes sound?"

My
favorite. My mouth watered and eyes brightened in expectation.

"Delicious,
and just why on earth did you drag yourself out of bed so early on your day
off? I know you love me but this is above and beyond the call of duty." I
quipped.

Jane
paused meeting my eyes with a serious gaze.

"Eliza,
why didn't you tell me you had concert tickets on Saturday night?" She
asked dismayed.

I stared
at her, stunned, before finding my voice.

"Oh…
I didn't even care about that show. Did Bryn tell you? What was she doing,
trying to make you feel guilty? Not everyone is as fan crazed as she is,
geez." I said with feigned exasperation, hoping I sounded convincing.

Jane
sighed and poured the batter into the hot pan on the stove.

"No,
actually, Pete called while you were out yesterday and wanted to know if you
were planning to work on Friday. Then I weaseled it out of him. Eliza, you
shouldn't have cancelled your plans for work! You know I would have figured
something out. You're sixteen. You have the rest of your life to work. If you
ever cancel fun for me again, I swear, I will ground you or something."
She attempted to look stern.

I stifled a
laugh. Jane had never grounded me.

"Ok,
point taken. But you know I couldn’t have fun at the show if I left you high
and dry." I conceded. Though, I couldn’t deny that my stomach sank a bit
when I thought of the unused ticket on my nightstand.

Jane pursed
her lips and glared sternly at me.

“Ok, ok.
Only fun, no work, promise.” I blabbered quickly in response.

"Well,
this is my feeble attempt to make it up to you. I'm sorry." She said and
placed the crepe on the stainless steel bar above the kitchen counter.

"Would
you like some juice with your crepe, madam?" She asked cheerfully.

"Yes,
please." I responded savoring the first bite. "So what are you up to
today?"

Mondays
were usually pretty slow at Viva, Jane's bistro. It was the one day each week
she gave herself a break and let her staff manage on their own.

"Not
sure yet. Adam and I are going to lunch somewhere and then maybe we'll head out
to the shore or a movie." She said casually.

"Really?
I thought you two were a little on the outs?" I managed to ask between
bites.

Adam and
Jane had been together for years. I adored him and he was one of my primary
sources of guilt when it came to my life with Jane. He was in love with her and
I knew they had argued for years about living together. She says she's not ready
for that step but I know it's because of me. Every once in a while the topic
flared up and they would spend a couple of weeks apart. Eventually, one of them
would give in and they'd go back to their routine.

"Yeah,
well, you know how it is. He came around, again." Jane pretended to be
exasperated with Adam but her whole being lit up when he was around. I was
relieved to hear of the reconciliation.

I glanced
at the clock. I was going to be late. I shoved the last half of the crepe in my
mouth and jumped off the stool.

"Gotta
get ready!" I said hastily and dashed toward my bedroom.

"Yes
you do. Get moving girl!" Jane called after me.

I ran to
my room and scanned the clothes on the floor, draped on my chair, those hanging
on my nightstand and covering my dresser. Not an ideal way to dress for success
but whoever said I was aiming for success? I pulled on a pair of jeans, grabbed
a brown riding boot and searched for the other before identifying a toe poking
out from under the bed. I threw on a lavender sweater and faced the mirror to
assess the hair situation.

My brown
hair hung limply around my face, falling just below my chin, and the summer tan
that warmed my skin like cinnamon toast had begun to fade. I leaned closer to
the mirror and picked up a pot of eye shadow dusting my eyelids a pale gold.
Jane said it brought out the gold speckles that splashed across my green eyes,
my one satisfactory feature. Despite the enhancement, I still wasn’t impressed
by the image that stared back at me. No sense dwelling on that which we cannot
change, I thought with a sigh, before heading for the door.

When I was
younger, I was deluded enough to think that I would magically grow up one day
and be just like Jane, as if that’s what all adult women become. Jane's face is
fine and elegant with deep blue eyes and a long straight nose poised delicately
above lipstick lips. Her platinum hair falls around her face like a gilded
frame on a painting.

I, on the
other hand, am so small that from the back I could easily blend in with a crowd
of 6th graders. To my dismay, my body had not changed all that much since 6th
grade either.

I rushed
out of the room and headed for the door yelling as I ran. "Bye Jane, have
fun today!'"

Jane was
lounging on the couch reading the paper and drinking a cup of coffee. "Bye
lovely. Don't wish the day away." She shouted after me.

I dashed
out the door into the industrial stairwell and barreled down the stairs.
Stepping out into the morning air, I sucked in a breath. The sun was shining
and there was a chill in the air. The leaves on the maples and oaks that lined
the town streets were just starting to turn, giving in to the crisp nights of
the past month. My heart lifted as I walked as swiftly as my legs would take me
down Main Street toward school.

Early as
it was, the storefronts were alight with activity and the sidewalks lively with
the morning bustle. As I scurried down the street, I heard my name from an open
door.

“’Morning
Eliza!”

It was
Jack Connelly, owner of Bishop’s Tea Room, one of my favorite spots on Main
Street. With Viva as a second home, I tended to view Main Street as my living
room and spent a lot of time curled up on one of Jack’s comfy couches with a
book. I shook a hand vigorously behind me without slowing my pace. Jack would
understand. He was accustomed to my always-late-for-something pace.

Port Rune,
Massachusetts was what magazines would describe as a charming seaside town.
Most of the homes were stacked into the rocky coastal hills. Old growth trees,
maples, oaks and evergreens lined the streets and filled natural spaces. Jane
had decided to move north after evaluating options in Boston for her
restaurant. She liked the idea of living by the ocean and our apartment was in
the center of all the action. The high school was just a few blocks off the
edge of Main Street. I could literally walk out the door and be at school
within ten minutes, if I ran.

By the
time I reached school, the parking lot was full of cars and practically empty
of kids. I ran, breaking a sweat, toward homeroom. It wasn't so much that I
cared about being late, I just didn't want everyone staring at me as I came in.

As I
neared the door, I heard the din of multiple conversations. I'd made it with
plenty of time to spare. I slipped inside and instantly spotted Bryn and Pete
across the room with a vacant seat next to them.

Bryn and
Pete were my best friends, really, my only friends. Bryn and I met in grade
school the year I'd moved to town. We picked up Pete in junior high.

Bryn looked
up and spotted me heading toward them. Her smile sent me rushing to her side to
hear all about the concert I’d missed. At least I could live vicariously
through her.

"Eliza,
it was so amazing... we missed you. They were sooo on, I'm still buzzing."
She bubbled.

Pete
assessed the look on my face and spared me the details. "Did you know that
they're playing in Providence on Friday? I can see if we can score some tickets
to the show if you want to take a road trip." He inserted casually.

Pete had
an uncanny ability to problem-solve before I was ready to accept a solution. At
times, that quality was aggravating and others, charming.

"Sounds
fantastic, I'm in if you're up for it." I responded gratefully. Thanks to
Pete, maybe I didn't need to nurse the disappointment of missing the Saturday
show.

"I’m
babysitting that night. Wish I could to go too! Pete you better find a ticket
for Eliza. Seriously, you're gonna love it.” Bryn said with conviction.

"Hey,
I'm all over it." He said, and I knew he would be.

The clock
crept closer to 8:00 and Mrs. Hildebrand was getting herself organized at the
podium. I cringed as the inevitable bell was about to ring. I could envision
the five consecutive days of high school torture ahead of me. At least now I
had something to look forward to. Let the games begin.

The door
cracked. Before I saw, I felt his presence like static before lightning
strikes.

The boy
entered quietly and closed the door behind him.

At the
sight of him, my breath caught in my chest and a rush of acid welled in my
stomach. My pulse quickened and my face burned. My body hummed like the drone
of a hundred cicadas.

His large
dark eyes swept the room and unabashedly fixed on mine.

The bell
rang.

I quickly
averted my stare as I tried to soothe my rushing heart and breath. My palms
were already sweating.

I willed
my face to remain still and banish the vivid blush on my cheeks, though it was
definitely too late. He had to notice my sweating, scarlet face. What was wrong
with me? It felt like my body had been hijacked. He was going to think I was a
total freak and actually, he would be right.

Beyond the
pulsing blood in my ears, I heard Bryn faintly mumble. "He must be the new
guy, hmmm."

I vaguely
recalled Mrs. Hildebrand mentioning that we would have a new student arriving
soon. Why did I have to be so weird upon first glance? Angry that my body
betrayed me in such an embarrassing fashion, I silently flogged myself. Lame,
lame, lame.

For the
first time in three years I was actually relieved to hear Mrs. Hildebrand start
roll call.

"Welcome!
You must be Ren Alden!” Mrs. Hildebrand chirped with a smile at the boy.
“Class, I’m sure you will all make a point of welcoming Ren, our new student
who just arrived this week from abroad. Please, take a seat, Ren.” She said kindly
before continuing. “Alright now let’s get started.... " She mumbled.

I trained
my eyes on my empty desktop, wincing as the painful hum raced through my body.
I focused on the sound of Mrs. Hildebrand’s voice and the cadence of her words.
I tried to stop the bizarre and embarrassing physical response I was having to
the new guy sitting two rows away from me. I willed myself not to look at him.

When the
second bell signaled first period I quickly picked up my bag and dashed through
the other desks to the door. I nodded and waved in response to Bryn's shout,
"See you at lunch."

A breeze
created by the stream of students bustling down the hall cooled my damp face. I
darted into the crowd, grateful to become a part of the anonymous surge.

As the day
wore on and I shuffled from one boring course to the next, the episode in
homeroom faded but refused to disappear altogether. No classes with this Ren
character, I thought with relief and an annoying twinge of disappointment. As
much as I wished I could forget the rush Ren’s presence provoked, my
subconscious was bent on stalking him like a lioness on the hunt. It circled
the memory of him over and over again, inspecting every detail captured in
those seconds after he walked through the door of homeroom.

Dark brown
unruly hair on a head bent in deference toward our teacher, small gentle
motions unexpected from a person so lanky, and most of all, that gaze. Large
obsidian eyes directed at me with such purpose it made me flinch just thinking
about it. There was something about his gaze that left more than just the star
kissed feeling of a crush, it was a sensation much more unpleasant. Like the
aftertaste of rancid sushi, momentarily gross but, more importantly, a sign
that even worse events were to come.

Despite my
newfound paranoia, by lunchtime, I was ready to be myself again with Bryn and
Pete and desperately hoped they hadn't noticed my strange behavior in homeroom.
We usually claimed a discrete table in the back corner of the lunchroom. On
nice days, we sat outside under the oaks in a common area called, The Quad.