Beautiful Darkness
Page 7
"No one wants to go to school."
"You know what I mean. That place is awful. I'd rather stay here and study Latin al day."
This wasn't going to be easy. How could I convince her to go somewhere I didn't even want to go? High school sucked. It was a universal truth, and whoever said these were supposed to be the best years of your life was probably drunk or delusional. I decided reverse psychology was my only shot. "High school is supposed to be the worst years of your life."
"Is that so?"
"Definitely. You have to come back."
"And that wil make me feel better how, exactly?"
"I don't know. How about, it's so bad, it'l make the rest of your life seem great in comparison?"
"By your logic, I should spend the day with Principal Harper."
"Or try out for cheerleading."
She twirled her necklace around her finger, her distinctive col ection of charms knocking against each other. "It's tempting." She smiled, almost a laugh, and I knew she was going with me.
Lena rested her shoulder against mine the whole way to school. But when we got to the parking lot, she couldn't bring herself to get out of the car. I didn't dare turn off the engine.
Savannah Snow, the queen of Jackson High, walked past us, hitching her tight T-shirt above her jeans. Emily Asher, her second in command, fol owed behind, texting as she slid between cars. Emily saw us and grabbed Savannah by the arm. They stopped, the response of any Gatlin girl whose mamma had raised her right, when faced with a relative of the recently departed. Savannah clutched her books to her chest, shaking her head at us sadly. It was like watching an old silent movie.
Your uncle's in a better place now, Lena. He's up at the pearly gates, where a chorus a angels is leadin' him to his ever-lovin' Maker.
I translated for Lena, but she already knew what they were thinking.
Stop it!
Lena slid her battered spiral notebook in front of her face, trying to disappear. Emily held up her hand, a timid half-wave. Giving us our space, letting us know she was not only wel bred but sensitive. I didn't have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking either.
I'm not comin' over there, because I'm a lettin' you grieve in peace, sweet Lena Du-channes. But I will always, and I do mean always, be here for you, like the Good Book and my mamma taught me.
Emily nodded to Savannah, and the two of them walked slowly and sadly away, as if they hadn't started the Guardian Angels, Jackson's version of a neighborhood watch, a few months ago with the sole purpose of getting Lena kicked out of school. In a way, this was worse. Emory ran to catch up with them, but he saw us and slowed to a somber walk, rapping on the hood of my car as he walked by. He hadn't said a word to me in months, but now he was showing his support.
They were al so ful of crap.
"Don't say it." Lena had rol ed herself down into a bal in the passenger's seat.
"Can't believe he didn't take off his cap. His mamma's gonna kick the tar outta him when he gets home." I turned off the engine. "Play this right and you might make the cheer squad after al , sweet Lena Du-channes."
"They're ... they're such --" She was so angry for a minute I regretted saying it. But it was going to be happening al day, and I wanted her to be prepared before she set foot in the hal s of Jackson. I had spent too much time being Poor Ethan Wate Whose Mamma Died Just Last Year not to know that.
"Hypocrites?" That was an understatement.
"Sheep." That, too. "I don't want to be in their squad, and I don't want a seat at their table. I don't want them to even look at me. I know Ridley was manipulating them with her powers, but if they hadn't thrown that party on my birthday -- if I had stayed inside Ravenwood like Uncle Macon had wanted ..." I didn't need her to finish. He might stil be alive.
"You can't know that, L. Sarafine would have found another way to get to you."
"They hate me, and that's how it should be." Her hair was beginning to curl, and for a second I thought there was going to be a downpour. She put her head in her hands, ignoring the tears that were losing themselves in her crazy hair.
"Something has to stay the same. I'm nothing like them."
"I hate to break it to you, but you never were, and you never wil be."
"I know, but something's changed. Everything's changed."
I looked out my window. "Not everything."
Boo Radley stared back at me. He was sitting on the faded white line of the parking space next to ours, as if he had been waiting for this moment. Boo stil fol owed Lena everywhere, like a good Caster dog. I thought about how many times I had considered giving that dog a ride. Saving him some time. I opened the door, but Boo didn't move.
"Fine. Be that way." I started to pul the door closed, knowing Boo would never get in. As I did, he leaped up into my lap, across the gearshift, and into Lena's arms.
She buried her face in his fur, breathing deeply, as if the mangy dog created some kind of air that was different from the air outside.
They were one quivering mass of black hair and black fur. For a minute, the whole universe seemed fragile, like it could fal apart if I so much as blew in the wrong direction or pul ed the wrong thread.
I knew what I needed to do. I couldn't explain the feeling, but it came over me as powerful y as the dreams had, when I saw Lena for the first time. The dreams we had always shared, so real they left mud in my sheets, or river water dripping onto my floor. This feeling was no different.
"You know what I mean. That place is awful. I'd rather stay here and study Latin al day."
This wasn't going to be easy. How could I convince her to go somewhere I didn't even want to go? High school sucked. It was a universal truth, and whoever said these were supposed to be the best years of your life was probably drunk or delusional. I decided reverse psychology was my only shot. "High school is supposed to be the worst years of your life."
"Is that so?"
"Definitely. You have to come back."
"And that wil make me feel better how, exactly?"
"I don't know. How about, it's so bad, it'l make the rest of your life seem great in comparison?"
"By your logic, I should spend the day with Principal Harper."
"Or try out for cheerleading."
She twirled her necklace around her finger, her distinctive col ection of charms knocking against each other. "It's tempting." She smiled, almost a laugh, and I knew she was going with me.
Lena rested her shoulder against mine the whole way to school. But when we got to the parking lot, she couldn't bring herself to get out of the car. I didn't dare turn off the engine.
Savannah Snow, the queen of Jackson High, walked past us, hitching her tight T-shirt above her jeans. Emily Asher, her second in command, fol owed behind, texting as she slid between cars. Emily saw us and grabbed Savannah by the arm. They stopped, the response of any Gatlin girl whose mamma had raised her right, when faced with a relative of the recently departed. Savannah clutched her books to her chest, shaking her head at us sadly. It was like watching an old silent movie.
Your uncle's in a better place now, Lena. He's up at the pearly gates, where a chorus a angels is leadin' him to his ever-lovin' Maker.
I translated for Lena, but she already knew what they were thinking.
Stop it!
Lena slid her battered spiral notebook in front of her face, trying to disappear. Emily held up her hand, a timid half-wave. Giving us our space, letting us know she was not only wel bred but sensitive. I didn't have to be a mind reader to know what she was thinking either.
I'm not comin' over there, because I'm a lettin' you grieve in peace, sweet Lena Du-channes. But I will always, and I do mean always, be here for you, like the Good Book and my mamma taught me.
Emily nodded to Savannah, and the two of them walked slowly and sadly away, as if they hadn't started the Guardian Angels, Jackson's version of a neighborhood watch, a few months ago with the sole purpose of getting Lena kicked out of school. In a way, this was worse. Emory ran to catch up with them, but he saw us and slowed to a somber walk, rapping on the hood of my car as he walked by. He hadn't said a word to me in months, but now he was showing his support.
They were al so ful of crap.
"Don't say it." Lena had rol ed herself down into a bal in the passenger's seat.
"Can't believe he didn't take off his cap. His mamma's gonna kick the tar outta him when he gets home." I turned off the engine. "Play this right and you might make the cheer squad after al , sweet Lena Du-channes."
"They're ... they're such --" She was so angry for a minute I regretted saying it. But it was going to be happening al day, and I wanted her to be prepared before she set foot in the hal s of Jackson. I had spent too much time being Poor Ethan Wate Whose Mamma Died Just Last Year not to know that.
"Hypocrites?" That was an understatement.
"Sheep." That, too. "I don't want to be in their squad, and I don't want a seat at their table. I don't want them to even look at me. I know Ridley was manipulating them with her powers, but if they hadn't thrown that party on my birthday -- if I had stayed inside Ravenwood like Uncle Macon had wanted ..." I didn't need her to finish. He might stil be alive.
"You can't know that, L. Sarafine would have found another way to get to you."
"They hate me, and that's how it should be." Her hair was beginning to curl, and for a second I thought there was going to be a downpour. She put her head in her hands, ignoring the tears that were losing themselves in her crazy hair.
"Something has to stay the same. I'm nothing like them."
"I hate to break it to you, but you never were, and you never wil be."
"I know, but something's changed. Everything's changed."
I looked out my window. "Not everything."
Boo Radley stared back at me. He was sitting on the faded white line of the parking space next to ours, as if he had been waiting for this moment. Boo stil fol owed Lena everywhere, like a good Caster dog. I thought about how many times I had considered giving that dog a ride. Saving him some time. I opened the door, but Boo didn't move.
"Fine. Be that way." I started to pul the door closed, knowing Boo would never get in. As I did, he leaped up into my lap, across the gearshift, and into Lena's arms.
She buried her face in his fur, breathing deeply, as if the mangy dog created some kind of air that was different from the air outside.
They were one quivering mass of black hair and black fur. For a minute, the whole universe seemed fragile, like it could fal apart if I so much as blew in the wrong direction or pul ed the wrong thread.
I knew what I needed to do. I couldn't explain the feeling, but it came over me as powerful y as the dreams had, when I saw Lena for the first time. The dreams we had always shared, so real they left mud in my sheets, or river water dripping onto my floor. This feeling was no different.
