Last night I didn’t answer when Damen called (well, I assumed it was him, the screen showed “private number”). And this
morning, while getting ready for school, I delete his message without even listening to it.
Riley swivels around in my chair with her short hair and black Trinity outfit from The Matrix.
Aren’t you curious to know what he says? Riley asks.
No.
I stare at the Mickey sweatshirt and choose one that Damen didn’t give me.
I could have listened to it. I would have told you the essentials.
I wrap my hair into a bun that I hold in place with a pencil.
No way.
Yes, well, there’s no need to worry about your hair. They didn’t do anything to you, as far as I know. I don’t understand you, she adds, seeing that I remain unmoved. Why are you always angry like this? Well, you lost him on the highway, he forgot
to give you his number, so what? Are you that paranoid? I turn my back on him. I know she’s right. I’m mad. And paranoid. And even worse. The perfect model of the ordinary domestic freak, annoyingly touchy, reader of thoughts, voyeur of auras and deaths.
But my sister doesn’t know that I haven’t confessed everything to her.
I didn’t tell him that Drina followed us to Disneyland.
Nor that Damen disappears every time she’s around.
I study his shiny black suit.
By the way, are you going to continue playing Halloween for a long time?
As long as I want, she said, crossing her arms with a little sad pout.
Noticing her trembling lower lip, I feel like the worst complainer in the world.
Excuse me, Riley, I’m sorry.
I put my bag on my shoulder, telling myself that I would like
that my life stabilizes, just to find a little balance.
No, you’re not sorry, it shows.
But yes, Riley, it’s true. And, believe me, I don’t want to argue with you.
She looks at the ceiling and shakes her head, tapping her foot on the floor.
You come ?
I’m about to go out, but she doesn’t answer.
Come. You know I can’t be late. Come on, make up your mind.
She squeezes her eyelids and shakes her head, and when she opens her eyes, I see that they are red.
I don’t have to be there, you know.
My hand is on the door handle. I absolutely have to go, but I can’t after what she just said.
What are you talking about ?
But from here! Of all that ! You, me, my visits. I don’t have to.
My stomach is in knots and I want her to stop, I refuse to
hear more. I got so used to her presence that I never considered that she might prefer to be elsewhere.
My throat feels dry and tight, and my voice betrays my panic.
But… I thought you liked coming here…
It’s true. But that might not be the best thing to do. Has it occurred to you that I would be better off being somewhere else?
She gives me an anguished, undecided look, and, even though I’m very late, I can’t leave.
Riley, I… What are you trying to tell me, exactly? I wish I could rewind this morning and start all over again.
Well, it was Ava who told me…
Ava?
My eyes almost pop out of my head.
Yes, you know, the clairvoyant. The one from Halloween night. The one who could see me.
I open the door and call over my shoulder:
I hate to tell you this, but Ava is kind of a crook,
of charlatan. It’s a fool’s errand, his act, a scam. I don’t see why you’re listening to him. She’s crazy, you hear me?
However, she told me lots of very interesting things.
There is so much pain and worry in his voice that I
I would do anything to console her. I scan the hallway, even though I know full well that Sabine is already gone.
Look, I don’t want to hear from Ava anymore. If you have
still want to go see her after what I told you, so fine, I can’t stop you. But don’t think Ava knows us
not and has absolutely no right to judge us, or to reproach us for enjoying spending time together. It’s none of her business. These are our onions.
When I notice that her eyes are still filled with tears,
his lips are still trembling, my morale is down.
I really have to go. Are you coming, yes or no?
No.
I take a deep breath and go out, slamming the door.
Miles having had the presence of mind not to wait for me,
I make the journey alone. The bell has already rung when I arrive, but Damen is there, next to his car parked on the second
best parking space, since he saved the best one for me.
Hello, he said, kissing me.
I grab my bag and rush towards the gate, Damen close behind.
I’m sorry I lost you last night. I tried to call you, but there was no answer.
I grab the iron bars and shake them with all my strength, but they don’t move a bit. I close my eyes and press my forehead against the cold metal. Nothing to do, I’m too late.
You got my message ?
I let go of the gate and head towards the secretariat, dreading the horrible moment when I will have to endure a sermon because of yesterday’s absence and this morning’s delay.
Damen takes my hand, and I melt from head to toe.
What’s wrong ? I thought we had a good time and that you had fun?
I lean against the brick wall with a sigh. I feel all rubbery, defenseless.
Unless you were acting to please me? Damen squeezes my fingers gently, pleadingly.
And as I begin to give in, almost taking the bait, I let go of his hand and walk away from him, caught up in the tidal wave of memories of that evening: Haven, our phone call , the strange disappearance of Damen on the highway.
Did you know Drina was at Disneyland too?
I realize my pettiness. But now that I’ve started, I might as well continue, even if I expect the worst.
Is there anything I should know? Do you have something to tell me ?
Damen surrounds me with a look full of gentleness.
I’m not interested in Drina. You yes.
I so want to believe it! I wish it were that simple! And when he takes my hand again, I see that it is indeed very simple and that all my doubts have evaporated.
This is where you should respond that you feel the same way about me.
I hesitate, my heart is beating so hard that there is no way Damen can’t hear it. But I waited too long, the magic of the moment was gone. Damen slips an arm around my waist and leads me back to the gate.
Don’t worry, take your time. I’m in no hurry, he
there is no deadline. But for now, the important thing is that you go to class.
You have to go through the secretariat. The gate is closed, I
signals.
Ever, the gate is not closed.
Um… excuse me, but yes, she is. I just tried.
You trust me ? What does it cost you? A few steps ? A few more minutes late?
I hesitate and end up following him to the gate, which, somehow, is open. I do not understand anything.
But I saw her! And you too, by the way! I even shook the bars, they didn’t move an inch.
But he kisses me on the cheek.
Go ahead. Don’t worry, Mr. Robins is still away, and the replacement is in trouble. Nothing to fear.
And you, aren’t you coming?
I suddenly feel overwhelmed by panic, heartbreak.
I am emancipated, I do what I want.
But…
I realize that his phone number is just one of the countless details I don’t know about him. In fact, I
barely know. How can he inspire such a feeling of well-being and normality in me, when everything about him is
completely abnormal? I remember he still hasn’t explained to me what happened on the highway last night.
I don’t have time to ask him before he materializes at my side and takes my hand.
My neighbor called me. The automatic watering system had jammed and my garden was starting to flood. I tried to warn you, but you were on the phone and I didn’t want to disturb you.
I contemplate our two intertwined hands, one tanned and strong, the other pale and fragile. Such an unlikely couple…
Go ahead, he insists. I’ll see you after school, I promise. He smiles and plucks a red tulip from behind my ear.
Usually, I dwell as little as possible on my previous life.
I try not to think about my old home, my friends, my family, my old self. I have become an expert at this, generally knowing how to recognize the warning signs of a storm – the itchy eyes, the shortness of breath, the overwhelming feeling of emptiness and
of despair – and I manage to avoid it. But sometimes it blows up in my face, without warning, without preparation. In this case, I can only curl up in a ball and wait for it to pass. Not easy to do in the middle of history class.
While Mr. Munoz talks at length about Napoleon, my throat closes, my stomach contracts, and my
eyes begin to burn so violently that I get up from my chair and run towards the door, deaf to my teacher’s calls and
mocking laughter from my comrades.
I turn a corner, blinded by tears, suffocating,
as if emptied from the inside, like a carcass that crumbles and collapses. I see Stacia too late and hit her with such force that she is thrown to the ground and tears her dress.
What is… ?
She looks at her spread legs and the tear in her dress, incredulously, then she looks into my eyes.
You ruined my dress, poor fool!
She runs a finger through the tear to show me the damage.
I’m really sorry, but I don’t have time to help him. My heartbreak is about to burst, and I can’t let Stacia see it.
Just as I’m about to pass her, she grabs my arm to get up, and her skin communicates to me an energy so dark and
so sinister that it takes my breath away. She squeezes my wrist so hard that I’m on the verge of passing out.
I’ll point out that it’s a designer dress. Which means that you
will pay me back. And believe me, it’s not going to stop there. I’m going to give you so much trouble that you’ll regret ever setting foot in this school, you dirty bitch!
I regained my composure, my stomach and relative calm.
Like Kendra, for example?
She loosens her grip a little, without letting go of me.
You put drugs in his locker, I said, interpreting
for and as I see the scene in my head. You managed to get her excluded, you undermined her credibility so that people would believe you and not her.
She finally lets go of my arm and takes a step back, her face pale.
Who told you ? You weren’t even here when it happened.
That’s correct, but that’s not the problem. My little personal storm has passed, the sorrow that threatened to invade me has miraculously gone away because of the fear that I read in his eyes.
And that’s not all. I know that you cheat on tests, that you steal money from your parents and also clothes in the
stores. You even steal from your friends! Note, concerning you, it’s fair game. I also know that you record all of Honor’s phone calls and that you have created a file of all her text messages and
her emails in case she decides to turn on you. You
flirts with her stepfather, which, by the way, is absolutely despicable, but unfortunately that’s not the worst. I know the whole story with Mr. Barnes, or Barnum. Finally, you know who I’m talking about, your third-grade history teacher? The one you tried to seduce. And when you realized that your scheme wasn’t working, you tried to blackmail him by threatening to confess “everything” to the principal and his wife, who was pregnant, poor thing…
I’m disgusted that people could behave so sordidly. I find it hard to believe that such a monster of selfishness could exist.
And yet she is there, very real, in front of me, her eyes
bulging, lips trembling, stunned to hear her dirty little secrets revealed. I have no qualms about unmasking her, or using my gift in this way. On the contrary. To see this
miserable girl, this terror that has persecuted me since my first day at high school, trembling from head to toe, my forehead wet with cold sweat, I feel immense satisfaction. My nausea and my sorrow are nothing more than a memory. So, I think that there is no
no reason for me to stop in my tracks.
I continue ? Easy. There’s no shortage of horrors, but I’m not telling you anything, am I?
She stumbles back as I approach, desperately trying to put as much distance between us as possible.
Are you a witch or something? she whispers, casting frantic eyes down the hallway, searching for help, a way out, anything to escape.
I say neither yes nor no and just laugh, just to make her think twice before acting in the future.
But very quickly, she regains her confidence and smiles.
Mind you, it’s your word against mine. And in your opinion, who
will we believe? Me, the most popular girl in class? Or you, the worst degenerate who ever set foot in this
school ?
She’s not wrong.
She runs her fingers through the tear in her dress.
I advise you to keep your distance, you poor loser. Otherwise, you will regret it, I guarantee it.
As she passes, she shoves me violently to prove to me that these are not just empty words.
At lunchtime I try not to watch Haven
like a fairground animal, because of his purple hair, and even hesitates to talk to him about it.
But she bursts out laughing.
Don’t pretend you didn’t see anything. It’s awful, I know.
Right after I called you last night, I tried to dye them red. You know, a beautiful coppery red, a bit like Drina. This is the result! she said, grabbing a strand of hair with a grimace. I look like an eggplant stuck on a toothpick. But not for much longer, because after class, Drina takes me to LA to a salon frequented by a bunch of celebrities. You know, the kind of super trendy place where you have to book at least a year in advance. She managed to get an appointment at the last minute. It’s amazing, the world she knows.
I cut him off, having no desire to hear more about the amazing Drina and her star privileges.
Where is Miles?
He learns his text. The municipal theater is going to put on a performance of Hairspray, and he would like to get the leading role. I open my lunch box, where I find half a sandwich,
a bunch of grapes, a packet of crisps and tulips.
It’s a girl, right, the leading role?
He tried to convince me to go audition too, but
It’s not really my thing. And where did Mr. Tall-Brun-Super-Sexy, your new boyfriend go?
I reply that I know nothing about it and remember that, once
again, I forgot to ask him for his phone number or address.
He must be somewhere, enjoying the joys of emancipation. Any news from Evangeline?
I unwrap my sandwich.
No nothing. But look!
She rolls up her sleeve to show off the inside of her wrist. I squint my eyes at the outline of a small tattoo.
circular, the sketch of a snake biting its tail. It’s still only a sketch, and yet, in a split second, I see the snake undulating. But I blink and he stills. I don’t know why, but the energy emanating from the tattoo sends shivers down my spine.
What is this ?
It’s supposed to be a surprise. I’ll show you when it’s finished. In fact, I shouldn’t have even told you about it.
She adjusts her sleeve and glances around before adding:
I promised not to say anything. But I’m too happy to
silent. And I’m not very good at keeping secrets. Especially mine.
I try to tune into his energy, to find a logical explanation for the unease that knots my stomach, but to no avail.
Who did you promise it to? What’s wrong ?
I notice that its aura is a sad ashen gray and that its edges float, as if frayed.
She laughs and pretends to lock lips.
Forget all that. You’ll see when the time comes.
