Fairy Circle (29 page)

Read Fairy Circle Online

Authors: Johanna Frappier

BOOK: Fairy Circle
10.93Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Markis was in awe of Saffron. For the first time in his life, he felt neither smooth nor in control around a girl. She seemed almost…magical, like she wasn’t even human. He wondered if he was good enough for the girl that he wanted so badly. For all of her timidity, he felt she was almost too overwhelming.

Now, over the last couple of months, he saw a transformation come over Saffron. A change so swift and total, it stunned him. She smiled all of the time. She held her head high when she worked with the customers. She yelled to him when he came in through the convenience store door - yelled clear across the long space that separated them. And she smiled at him. They were special smiles. The kind that grabbed you and held you until you couldn’t breathe. She would look right at him over the deli case, without blinking, and hold his gaze over the rows of congealed salad and fat-free bologna. She liked to giggle. She flirted with him all of the time. She’d sneak up behind him from the rows of Corn Pops and Stouffer’s Stuffing and slap his rear.

He could never get her to be serious. Conversations flip-flopped and contained no real substance. She was so sweet to him,
sickeningly
sweet. Always calling him “sweetie” and “uh-huhing” everything with a big smirk stretched across her lips, the stars permanently in her eyes. This wasn’t Saffron. This was not the girl who had always intrigued him.

Chapter 17

S
affron invited the band over to the farm. It was Derek’s idea, a “Coming Out” party for Saffron because she was starting to come out of her mother’s house on a daily basis, what with her job and the few trips to watch the band jam. When Derek first mentioned the idea, Saffron had gone to work that night complaining to Coco, who thought it was a great idea. Coco proceeded to call the band members and let them know about the party.


What night?” Coco blinked rapidly as she held the receiver to her chest. She was on the phone with Iggy. Saffron chucked Coco the bird and walked away. “Saffron says the first. Yeah, duh Iggy, that’s Saturday. God, man, you’re thick….” She hung up the phone and called Markis. Then she called Hippo, telling them all about the great jam session/party they were going to have at Saffron’s house by the sea. Coco even called Bernice and left a message. Bernice never answered his phone.

On that warm June night, under the azure sky with the air smelling new and green, Saffron begrudgingly hosted her very first party. The ocean heaved against the cliffs, the alpacas grazed on the tender new grass, and somewhere off in the distance, a faraway neighbor gunned his mower to start cutting long expanses of lawn.

Saffron and her mother worked all morning on hors d’oeuvres and canapés, salads and meat marinades, chips and dips. Audrey didn’t know if she should supply the beer and tell the parents, or supply the beer and pretend not to know what was going on, or to not supply the beer and pretend not to know what was going on. She decided on the latter with the intent to make everyone sleep over if she had to. “Derek, set up the ten- man tent.”

Big Derek halted as he crossed the kitchen. His arms were full of condiments; he was balancing a bag of charcoal on his head with a bundle of wood pinched under one arm. He mumbled behind the tongs in his mouth. “I’m not setting up the fricken ten- man tent.”

Audrey blubbed her tongue at him and went back to the salads. She tried not to grin too much, but couldn’t help it. Saffron had come a long way. Derek disagreed. He said there was something up with Saffron; he didn’t trust Saffron’s poor-me drama, and he didn’t trust her ‘happy girl’ drama. He would tell Audrey, “We haven’t got to the root yet.” Audrey pooh-poohed him. Fricken Scorpio - he was so suspicious. Audrey finished stirring the potato salad, licked the spoon, then threw it in the sink and covered the bowl with its lid. “Hey, Saffron, have you been thinking about colleges?” Behind her, there was a kafuffle; a second of silence, then the smashing sound of what Audrey rightly assumed was the jar of relish. Every muscle in Audrey’s body seized up as she raised her eyebrows.


Mom, aren’t you happy that I’m working at the Black Chicken? I thought you were all set with everything. Look at this,” she indicated the counters littered with party prep, “I’m socializing. So, we’re going to drop it; right?”


Saffron, it’s not about what
I’m
all set with. I was just wondering what you’re thinking. If you think you’re ready to take the next step.”


Because you want more.”

Derek came gliding into the kitchen on roller-sneakers and carrying lawn chairs. “Oh, lucky me, I get to walk in on the volleynag game.” He set down the chairs and waggled his fingers at them. “No, thanks, ladies. Call me when you’re ready to start the grill.” He turned on his heel and rolled right back out.


Yeah, Mom, call me when you’re ready to start the grill.” She hunched out of the room.

Audrey picked up the potato salad spoon and throttled it. She felt her blood pressure rise deliciously in her head and muffle the sound of the neighbor’s lawn mower. “I’m doing the grill myself!” she yelled at the empty room. She had never lit a charcoal grill in her life. “Screw that.” She started slamming through the cupboards, grabbing the pink grapefruit juice, cranberry juice, cranberry vodka and champagne. She sloshed the ingredients in a pitcher and poured herself a Mason jar full.

Later, when they were all sitting around the fire pit, with Bernice and Iggy plinking their guitars, Saffron opened her “Coming Out” gifts. The gifts were Coco’s idea. There were suitcases from her mother (she shoved them away with a wan smile to the confusion of the others); a polka-dotted bra and panty set from Coco (which made her burn purple while everyone laughed); a fairy figurine from Markis, that was so finely detailed and so beautiful he was shocked when her face turned deathly white and the little thing slipped from her hands. Markis looked helplessly at Coco. She shrugged.

Thankfully, the band members and Derek got her more mundane things. A Star Wars t-shirt from Iggy (gently used and all the more valuable he demanded); a recording of their band from Hippo (Hippo always gave homemade gifts); a set of maracas from Bernice (so she could play in the band; she welled up); and a George Michael CD signed by the artist himself (from Derek who was so proud he was crying, tear dollops splashing onto his rotund belly, until he took a deep pull on his Mason jar and several cleansing breaths). Around the bright fire in the dark night, everyone started to get slap-happy and rowdy.


I know this is your prized possession, Derek. Wow, thank you.” She was sincere in her thanks. She liked George Michael and hoped one day to attend George and Derek’s wedding, but she was especially thankful for Derek’s ability to clear the air and make a place fun again.

Bernice plucked some flamenco and inspired the rest of the band. He always did that, talked with his guitar. Saffron had never ever heard him speak. Suddenly, Bernice stopped plunking and sat up straight. He looked toward the cliff just as Saffron heard her suicide ghost start caterwauling. Bernice looked around the group. His eyes settled on Saffron. She looked bug-eyed back at him. But still, he said nothing. He looked down at his guitar and started plinking again.

For the next couple of hours, they jammed badly and loved every minute of it. It was only ten o’clock when Saffron yawned outrageously loud and said, “Whew, that was fun! Let’s do this again!”

The band members frowned. Audrey, who didn’t leave when Saffron hinted because she
just loved these kids(!)
, frowned. Derek, who snored chin-on-chest on the lawn chair, frowned. Was Saffron dismissing them? They were ready to go all night. They always went all night - she knew that.

She got up and started to pick up paper plates with half-eaten food and the beer bottles that Audrey had ignored. The others grumbled as they slowly packed up and made their way to Bernice’s van. Coco was the designated driver. Poor choice. Coco talked too much when she drove and was a menace to society even if she didn’t drink.

Markis followed Saffron around as she cleaned. Maybe she was getting rid of everyone else so they could be together? He trailed her to the kitchen where she dumped the trash from her arms into an almost-over flowing bucket - the trash bag sliding off one side. When she turned, he was right there in her face, looking hopeful. He took her hand and moved into her space. “Do you wanna hang out tonight?”

Saffron felt everything in her body lock up. Jethin would be here soon. She pulled her hand out of Markis’s and edged away from him. “Markis, I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is, maybe the champagne… (He knew she didn’t have any; he studied her every move as if she were a theatre performer) …but I really don’t feel good. I have to go lie down.”


Do you want me to come with you?” He hooked his fingers into the belt loops on her jeans and pulled her into him. He wasn’t going to give up, not tonight. She was taking
forever
.

Saffron coughed, backed up, and tripped on the extension cord they had used for Coco’s keyboard. “Ah, yeah, not with my Mom in the next room, know what I mean? That would be kind of weird.” She looked really strained.


So come with me, we’ll go someplace and hang out.” He pulled her to him again and rocked them back and forth, his face coming closer to hers.

His breath smelled sweet and she actually swooned like a broad from a 40’s movie. She turned away and looked out the dark window. She bit her bottom lip. What if Jethin was watching? Was he here early tonight? She and Jethin weren’t an item, and they weren’t about to be, but Jethin gave the impression that he was one of those not-sharing types. The, ‘I don’t want it but you can’t have it either,’ type. The idea of Jethin’s rage scared her so much she jerked away from Markis and placed both of her outstretched hands on his wide shoulders. She didn’t blink. “You have to leave with the rest of them, right now, okay?”

He shook his head once and grabbed her. He pulled her body with one hand, securing her hips against his, and the base of her skull with the other. He put his lips on hers and spoke through his teeth. “What’s going on?”


Oh, my God…” she laughed nervously as she wrestled her way out of his grip. “Markis, go home.”

He flinched. It made her sad to see confusion eat at his confidence. He was slumped now, just like she used to stand. He turned around without another word and stalked out of the house. Coco closed in behind him, walking forward but looking back at Saffron and mouthing, “Why? Why?” until she walked into the doorway, swore, and then was finally, mercifully - her and her mouth - out into the night.

Saffron heaved a sigh and ran upstairs. She passed Gram’s bedroom where her mother sat on the side of the bed reciting Yeats.

Outside in the van, Markis fumed. As Coco backed up, he saw a light come on upstairs on the second floor. He squinted to look inside the room and his breath caught when he saw Saffron sit in front of her mirror and put her hair up. It wasn’t styled that way five minutes ago when she dismissed him. Is that how she got ready for bed? He watched her apply something to her lips. “What the hell?” he yelled into the silence, causing Coco to yank on the wheel, go off the driveway, and
screeeeee
along the alpaca gate. The band members shrieked like little girls and Coco squawked like a chicken.

Markis’s thoughts raced. It looked like Saffron was getting ready to go on a date! Maybe he wasn’t all-knowing of the ways of women but he was pretty sure they didn’t do up their hair and apply lipstick or whatever to go to bed sick on the champagne that they didn’t drink! And she had been afraid! He thought of it now as the diss played in his head, just like it would a thousand times before he went to sleep. She had definitely been afraid when she was trying so desperately to get rid of him. At first, he thought she was nervous about what was going on between them, about how close they were getting, and about the thoughts of what they were about to do. But some little inkling told him her fear didn’t match that of being nervous about the first time you touched someone you liked. Which left him thinking what? That Saffron had pushed him out of the house to get ready for a date she was afraid of? Who? It was just too bizarre. He couldn’t be right. Suddenly, the van felt too small. The cracked leather seat was pancake-flat and painful to sit in. He rubbed the back of his neck and squinted at the dark road ahead.

Unwanted puzzle pieces came clunking into his brain. The entire ride home, he juggled the memories of odd things that Saffron had done. Not long after the movie “date” he had gotten her phone number and had started calling her almost every day. They talked and talked and talked. She was always so animated. He imagined her sitting there in her room on the other end of the line, lying on her bed, laughing and twirling all of that red hair between her fingers. Sometimes they talked for hours. But she would never talk long after dark.

He counted. Besides seeing her at the Black Chicken, he had contact with her after sunset only tonight, at the party she didn’t want to have, three times at band practice, and that first lame-ass date, if you could call it that, at the movies. His gut told him that if he proposed a movie to the group, this time she wouldn’t go. He wanted to test his theory but there weren’t any good flicks out right now, so they’d all say no.

His heart dropped like a rock, rattling down his ribcage, and landing with a dull thud onto his lap.
Was
she seeing someone else? After dark? Who was he? A damn vampire? Markis shifted and bounced his knee. Then he leaned forward and heaved his body back, trying for an elusive bit of comfort in the stiff leather seat. He stared without seeing into the blackness of the starless night as the drunken band members sang, “Forget You.”

Other books

Passing Strange by Daniel Waters
Yardwork by Bruce Blake
An Appetite for Murder by Lucy Burdette
Reality Check by Niki Burnham
Friday Barnes 2 by R. A. Spratt
15 Seconds by Andrew Gross
Honeysuckle Summer by Sherryl Woods
Still by Mayburn, Ann
She's the Billionaire by Ellen Dominick