Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) (9 page)

CHAPTER 14

“
Most of you did well on the tests
,” Mrs. Evans said in French as she returned them two weeks later, walking down the aisles and placing the papers face-down on the desks. I focused on my hands in my lap as I played with my fingernails, careful to not look at Drew in his seat next to me. He hadn’t spoken to me since he drove me back from the soccer game. I knew I should get over whatever feelings I had for him, but it was easier said than done.

Mrs. Evans arrived at my desk and placed the test down in front of me in the same way as the others. I touched the edge of the paper, scanning the classroom to make sure that no one was looking over to try to see my grade. Jeremy flipped through the sheets of his test, shoving it deep into the crinkled mess of papers in his backpack. All of the other students focused on their grades as well. I finally arrived at Drew, and my lips parted in surprise when his gaze locked with mine. It was the most he’d acknowledged my presence since he drove me home after the soccer game.

A flash of cold passed over his eyes before he looked away, his features taking on the same statuesque hardness that I’d grown used to seeing over the past two weeks. A sharp pain shot through my chest, like someone had taken a knife and shoved it into my heart, and I looked back down at my desk. Trying to shake it off, I lifted the edge of the paper, gaining the courage to look at my grade.

A large A stared back at me, written with a huge red marker.

I gasped in surprise, flipping over the test to make sure I’d seen it correctly. The grade stayed the same.

I flicked the tip of my pen against the desk, wondering how I managed to do so well. Drew might have helped a little, but one unsuccessful study session a month beforehand couldn’t have made that much of a difference. So what did? I tapped my pen harder on the table, like the drumming could pound the answer out of my mind.

“Stop that,” Drew whispered through gritted teeth, pulling the pen out of my hand and placing it on my desk. “It’s annoying, and Mrs. Evans’s head looks like it’s about to explode from the noise.”

I looked up and sure enough, if Mrs. Evans had been in a cartoon, there would have been steam erupting from her ears. I couldn’t help but chuckle at the image. Looking back over at Drew, I rested my chin in my hand, disappointed to discover that he’d reconstructed the imaginary wall between us. 

“
Élisabeth
.” Mrs. Evans glared at me, like she suspected me of cheating. Even though I knew I hadn’t, I wouldn’t blame her if she did. I had no idea how I managed to do so well on the test, either. “
Please describe to the class—in French—the ideal place you would like to live in ten years. Include details.”

An image formed in my mind, and I didn’t miss a beat. “
I’ve never been there
before, but I would like to live in England
,” I said, sitting up straighter in my seat. “
It would be in a small town, but close enough to a city that it wouldn’t be boring. The house would overlook a field … it would have two floors with a small attic, a chimney, and white wooden panels. Moss will have grown over it from age, and there would be a lake
in the back and a swing in the front yard—one of those old rope swings that hangs from a tree, because the house would be quaint, like it came right out of the 1800’s…”

I paused and realized that everyone was silent; no one chuckled from behind me like I’d grown accustomed to. Instead, my classmates stared at me with wide eyes and mouths hanging open, looking like they’d seen a ghost.

“What?” I asked in English, glancing around the room in confusion. No one responded. I shifted in my chair, re-crossing my legs and waiting for someone to break the silence.

“Nice use of vocabulary.” Mrs. Evans spoke in English, a confused look on her face. “I can see you’ve been studying.”

Then it hit me that everything I’d said had been in French. The foreign tongue felt natural—I didn’t have to think about it any more than when speaking in English. It was like I’d been able to speak French for my entire life, and while I did study hard, there was no explanation I could give her for the major improvement

I nodded, not knowing how else to reply, and sat through the remainder of class in stunned silence. I tried to come up with a logical explanation for what had happened, but I couldn’t think of anything. It didn’t make sense. People didn’t magically learn how to speak foreign languages in a month … did they?

Jeremy sauntered towards my desk after the bell rung. “How’d you manage to pull that one off?” he asked, lifting my bag from the ground and holding it out for me to take.

“I guess studying paid off.” I shrugged, not believing my own words. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing you didn’t drop AP,” he said distantly. “But I can’t believe you did better than me on the test.”

My head shot up. “You saw my grade?”

“I sneaked a peak from the back of the room,” he admitted. “You seemed so shocked that you forgot to hide your grade. It’s fun to see what other people get.”

I played with the strap of my bag, wondering how many other people tried to get a glimpse of my grade.

At least this time I didn’t get a D.

“I just don’t get how you did that,” he mumbled. “It was like someone possessed your body who was fluent in French.”

“Sure.” I rolled my eyes. “A French speaking spirit now lives in my body. That makes perfect sense.”

He chuckled. “It’s not a bad theory!”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

“You do that,” he said, studying me for a moment before shaking his head in disbelief. “Well, I’ve gotta get to class. I’ll see you at lunch.”

I turned to walk towards my next class and saw Drew standing near the wall, appearing to be waiting for someone. He watched me intently, and I marched towards him, recalling his puzzling words from the beginning of the year.

“How did you know I would get better in French?” I asked when I reached him, not bothering to say hi.

“I didn’t know.” He smirked and leaned against the wall. “It was a lucky guess.”

“Yes, you did know,” I insisted, not in the mood to put up with the way he twisted conversations.

He leaned closer to me until I could feel the heat radiating from his face. “Do you think I’m psychic, Lizzie?” he asked, his eyes blazing with intensity as the golden flecks in them sparked to life. “Do you think I can see your future?”

I looked down at the ground, embarrassed by how ridiculous he made it sound. “Maybe,” I mumbled. "I don't know."

He backed away, leaning against the wall again. “Well, I hate to break it to you, but I can’t.”

“Then how did I do that in class?” I looked back up at him, determined to not let this one slide.

“Do what?” he asked, putting his hands in the front pockets of his jacket.

“Speak in French,” I said, not allowing my gaze to waver from his. “Perfectly. It wasn’t … well, it wasn’t normal.”

He paused, his eyes softening before returning to the hard stare. “You’ve always been able to, Lizzie. You just blocked it before.”

I shook my head in confusion. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Good,” he said, standing straighter in preparation to go to his next class. “But here are some hints for the future. Remember to mess up a little in class. Forget a word or two; mix up your tenses. You don’t want Mrs. Evans to get suspicious.”

I raised an eyebrow. “And how are you the expert on this?”

“Just do it,” he instructed. “Or people will start asking questions.”  

I stepped back, unable to figure out what he meant. “I’ll pretend in class," I said, since while I didn’t want to admit it, he made a good point. "But I’m not dropping this.”

He took a step forward. “There’s nothing to drop.”

“I don’t believe you,” I challenged.

He smirked, amused by my stubbornness. “Do you believe I want what’s best for you?”

“Drew…” I trailed, his name catching in my throat. “I honestly don’t know what you want.”

He held his gaze with mine as he struggled to find a response. The sound of the last students scrambling to class faded into the background; all I knew was that while he didn’t want to admit it, Drew cared about me, and I for him. But I couldn’t love him—I barely knew him. I loved Jeremy. This thing with Drew … it was just a fascination. It would pass.

I was lying to myself again, and I knew it. My feelings for Drew couldn’t just disappear. They were ingrained within every fiber of my being, and I needed them just the same as I needed air to breathe. Even though we’d only had a few conversations, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I’d known him for my entire life.

“I want you…” His voice was hoarse, and my heart pounded in my chest. “To stay away from me. Nothing good can come from this. I’m with Chelsea—not you. Just give up already.” 

He yanked his hand back to his side, his eyes as hard as a serpent’s, staring down at me like I was his prey. Then he turned around to go to his next class, not even bothering to look back at me. Every muscle in my body ceased to work; my blood felt like it stopped flowing through my veins, and my head pounded with an empty numbness at his words. It was like he’d shattered every bone in my body with a sledgehammer, and this time, I believed him. Drew Carmichael wanted nothing more to do with me.

The realization caused a golf ball sized lump to form in my throat, and I took a deep breath, praying when I sprinted to the restroom that I didn’t start crying in the middle of the deserted hall. Luckily the bathroom was empty, and I looked into the mirror, red-rimmed eyes staring back at me. It looked like I’d trudged through a desert in the middle of a sandstorm, and I ran the faucet, splashing cold water on my face to cool down. I glanced back up and saw black lines smeared down my cheeks from my mascara, like a fresh painting left outside in the rain. There was no way I could go to class ten minutes late looking like this—my teacher would probably send me to the guidance counselor.

I leaned my palms against the sink and contemplated what to do. I would never skip school without permission, but it wouldn’t be a lie if I went to the nurse and told her that I didn’t feel well. She could easily write me a note to go home.

With that decision, I picked up my bag and walked to the student health office, reminding myself that each step was one closer to being home in bed where I could begin the process of forgetting that Drew ever existed.

However, I had a sinking feeling that while he seemed to mean it when he said he wanted nothing to do with me, trying to forget about Drew and my feelings for him would be impossible.

CHAPTER 15

I fell asleep as soon as I got in my bed, but my cell phone rang at 3:15, jolting me awake. My first hope was that it was Drew calling to apologize and tell me he didn’t mean anything he’d said to me in the hall, but it was just Jeremy making sure I was okay. Chelsea called fifteen minutes later with the same question. Once I convinced her I was fine, she let me know that she was coming back from school and driving past my house. It was on the way to hers, and she needed to talk to me about something important.

I walked down the hall to look out the front window—her dark blue Volkswagen Jetta was already parked on the street next to my driveway. I was still in a daze from what had happened earlier and my eyes were puffy from crying, but I was supposed to be sick, so she most likely wouldn’t think much of it.

“You’re so lucky you missed trig today.” She sunk into my bed after coming upstairs, making herself comfortable amongst the blue pillows perched against the wall. “You missed the most boring lecture about triangles.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” I said, pulling my knees up to my chest. Even if it wasn’t the full story, it was still true. “But I’m fine now.”

“Good.” She smiled, eager to jump to the next subject. “So here’s the problem I was talking about earlier. Drew told me at lunch that his grandparents decided to visit his dad in New York. They’re coming on Halloween, and he wants to see them. But now he can’t make it to the dance next weekend. I’m totally bummed that he’s missing the biggest event of the fall, but his grandparents live in England, so he barely sees them. He said he wants to go to the dance, but family comes first.” She paused, clasping her hands together and leaning forward before continuing. “That’s why I love him.”

I took a sharp breath inwards. “You
love
him?” I asked, even though I knew I’d heard correctly. The idea that Chelsea could love Drew seemed ridiculous. They hadn’t even known each other for over two months. “Don’t you think it’s a little soon for that?”

“I think I do.” She giggled. “But I haven’t told him yet. I was thinking of saying it at the dance, but now I can’t since he’s not going.” She pouted, pausing in contemplation. “Maybe I should before he leaves? It would be so romantic, like out of one of those old movies where they’re standing in the rain about to say good-bye … except we’re only saying bye for the weekend, so it won’t be sad and all.”

“You should wait,” I said quickly. “You’ll probably want to hang out afterwards and talk. But if you do it that way then he’ll leave right after and he might … forget when he comes back. It won’t be fresh in his mind.”

The reason sounded lame. But there was no way he loved her back. Was there?

“I guess you’re right.” She twirled her hair in thought. “Do you think you and Jeremy can give me a ride to the dance? I was thinking we could get ready together like we did back in middle school, and I don’t want to show up alone.”  

“No problem,” I said, glad she’d changed the topic.

“Speaking of Jeremy,” she said, “he told me about what happened in French today with the test and how well you spoke in class. How’d you manage to pull that one off? No offense, but last I heard, French wasn’t exactly your best subject.”

“I guess studying paid off,” I repeated what I’d told Jeremy after class, trying to focus on the conversation and not on Drew possibly telling Chelsea he loved her back. “You should have seen Mrs. Evans’s face when I actually knew what I was talking about. It was priceless. She looked like she saw an alien spaceship land in the middle of the classroom.”

Chelsea forced a laugh, unsatisfied with the answer. “Jeremy was so confused,” she continued, not seeming to buy my explanation. “I don’t think he was happy you got a higher grade on the test than he did. He said something about it being a fluke, and he would do better next time.”

I didn’t realize it was a competition, but to Jeremy, everything was a competition.

“It’s great to know that he has confidence in me.” I paused, considering whether to bring up the problems between Jeremy and me. As my best friend, Chelsea was supposed to listen to this sort of thing. “This might sound weird,” I started, picking up the stuffed teddy bear holding a pink heart that Jeremy bought me for Valentine’s Day last year. “But do you think Jere’s been acting different recently?”

She lifted a small pillow and placed it in her lap, playing with the edges. “I thought you two worked out the thing that happened after the Derryfield game,” she said. “What’d he do now?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, holding the bear to my chest. “It’s just the small things—like the new music he listens to and the way he talks to people. It’s like now that he’s co-captain of the team, he thinks he’s better than everyone else.” I watched her reaction, but only got a blank stare. “I guess I’m over-analyzing.”

“Honestly? I haven’t noticed that much of a change,” she replied. “If anything, he seems more confident, which makes sense given the circumstances. I’m sure he’ll chill out soon.”

“I guess you’re right.” I shrugged. “It’s weird though; I haven’t felt the same connection with him recently. Does that make sense?”

She looked at the ceiling in irritation. “Come on, Lizzie,” she said, returning her focus to me. “You guys are like,
the
couple of the school. You’re the Romeo and Juliet; the Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth. You’ll be together forever.”

Forever. The words made me dizzy, and the walls in the room felt like they were closing in from all directions, making it hard to breathe. 

“Maybe.” My voice wavered, and I focused on breathing evenly to calm down. “But in case you forgot, Romeo and Juliet didn’t have a happy ending.”

“Whatever,” she said, throwing the pillow in the air and catching it. “You get what I mean. The thing with Jeremy will pass. Trust me.”

“Since you’re the expert on long-term relationships,” I joked, deciding to let it go. “But you’re right—I’m probably overreacting.”

“Of course I’m right,” she said. “But anyway, you never did show me your dress for the dance.”

Glad for the change of subject, I hopped off the bed and opened my closet where I hung the dress after coming home from the trip to the mall two weeks ago. I brushed my hand against the light material before lifting up the hanger, taking in the sight of the white dress and accompanying headpiece.

Chelsea walked closer to the dress to inspect it, nodding in approval. I brought the necklace out of my jewelry box and she widened her eyes as she took it in, running her fingers over the small stones. Since the mask wouldn’t be ready to pick up for two days, I showed her the sketch. She loved it as well.

The whole time I was showing her, all I could think about was how I wanted Drew to see me in the outfit. It would be like in Cinderella when the prince sees her dressed up at the ball, knows that she’s the one he loves, and they live happily ever after.

But it was time to realize that I wasn’t Cinderella, and no matter how hard I wished it were true, life wasn’t a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after.