Chapter 1
Love is one of those incomprehensible things that never really makes sense. I look foward and sigh as my
geography teacher blathers on about the major trade deficit of the United States. I sit back and close my eyes,
wishing that I could just run from the room and into the hallway. I really hate school, but with the high
expectations that my barely there parents place upon me I can't miss anything. And I mean absolutely
anything. I open my notebook in synch with everyone else in this cold classroom. I scrawl little drawings on
the margins, not really paying attention to what is being said. I can always just read this out of the book; it
certainly would be more interesting than listening to Mr.Foreman, who could probably put the dead to
sleep.
I turn to look out the window, searching for a better distraction than what I had. The sky is a dismal shade of
grey and the plastic green grass doesn't even sway in the wind that is making the leaves of the oak tree outside
rustle. I sigh; why did my parents move to such a dismal town? They didn't have to live here, because they
were always on the move. My mother, Desiree Fernandez is the trophy wife of my father Daniel Fernandez
and they both could care less about me and my brother. The only thing that is ever on their minds when they
see us is our GPA- after all daddy needs someone to take over his multi-million making company doesn't he?
Our conversations always go the same when my parents manage to find time in their busy schedules to
remember they have children. They call my twin brother, Darius, and me into the sitting room and ask to see
what they call our 'Quaterly Grade Report'.Usually they're satisified with my grades and I recieve the
'affectionate' hug that my mother has perfected and a praise from my father, usually a 'Good job April." Or
something along those lines. My brother is a different story. He usually makes it a point to flunk all his classes
and goes out of his way to make our parents mad. He parties constantly and is almost never home; though he
is my twin, I don't think that God could've made us more different.
I scowl as a droplet of water hits the clear window and runs down the smooth glass. Another droplet follows
and before I'm even aware of it, it's raining cats and dogs. I turn back to the front of the classroom and
fortunately Mr.Foreman has finished lecturing and is now writing our assignment on the board. Read chapters
eighteen through twenty one. Hmm.. He's probably is going to go hit on that cute blonde teacher aide
that was hired last week. He made it really obvious that he was interested in her and our easy assignment
proved what I already knew. Nothing got past me; that was how it was supposed to be. As soon as he was
done writing, he dropped the chalk onto his desk and stared at himself in his computer screen, preening.
Someone was hopeful. He exits the classroom and I turn back to stare out the window, scowling at the blurred
view that it afforded me; then I realized that I had left my umbrella in the car that drove me to school. The
irony behind that is that today is the one day I walk home- it's my chauffer's day off. I know by the time I get out, it will be pouring even harder.. I'm going to ruin the silk shirt that was part of my oh so
casual-yet-expensive ensemble. I smile at the thought; you know what they say,a little rebellion is good for
the soul.
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My smile widens as the last bell of the day rings and I gather my things. Per my prediction it is raining harder
than I would've thought possible, and surprisingly I'm happy about it. Maybe I'll catch pneumonia and get a
few days off from school. I scoff at the very thought; in my household there is no off days- my brother being
the very obvious exception to that (and every other) rule. I close the clasp on my bag and sling it over my
chest, anticipating the feel of the cool rain on my pale skin; I really should get out more. A few people stare at
me oddly as I step out into the frigid rain without an umbrella but the knowledge that I'm going out of my
way to break a rule is making me giddy. I walk down the sidewalk, rain pouring down onto me. I'm three
blocks away from the school and into the warehouse district that surrounds it when I remember a crucial flaw
in my plan- my shirt is white. I look down and sure enough the silk shirt is plastered to my alabaster skin and
everyone can see my bra through it. I don't even have a sweater to cover it. I keep my eyes down and try not
to catch anyone's attention as I make my way through the maze that is the Warehouse District. I've always loved this neighborhood, mainly because there are not many people who travel through here and on my once a
week walk home the solitude is welcomed; now it's just putting me on edge.
Soon enough though the amount of people I am passing up dies down to the rare person and I feel my spirits
lift a bit. I pass my own marker- the pink warehouse that stands out among the black and grey metals. Good, I
only have about ten more blocks and I'm home. I pass it up, and notice an odd smell. I stop in my tracks and
identify it as cigarette smoke. I look around; there shouldn't be anyone in this area- all the warehouses close
down at one, two hours before school lets out. Then I spot him. He's tall and leans against a pillar supporting a
metal awning. He has dark chesnut hair and slightly tanned skin, clad completely in black. I've never seen him
before; then he looks up at me with piercing hazel eyes. I tear my gaze away from him and continue on
walking. He looked a little older than me, maybe sixteen. I shiver as the cold really begins to set in; I'll be lucky if I escape with pneumonia- at the rate I'm going I'll probably get hypothermia.
"Hey baby."
A man appears before me, pale as can be with a shock of red hair. His brown eyes leer down at me. I try to
ignore him and continue on walking but then a second one joins him. Then a third. I look around me and pale as I count the men; there are ten in all and I can tell from their gazes that they are not your every-day muggers.
"W-what do you want?"
I try to make my voice sound confident and self-assured but what comes out is nothing less than a whisper
filled with fear.The one standing closest to me moves foward and grabs me by my upper arm.
"We want whats underneath that charming shirt of yours hun."
He has a southern accent and his breath smells horribly of alchohol. I try to pull away but another one grabs
me and then I'm being surrounded. I try to scream but a meaty hand covers my mouth and I can feel hands
trying to rip off my shirt. I scream from underneath the hand and then bite it. The guy howls and someone
slaps me across the face with such a force that I'm sent sprawling to the cold asphalt.
"Little skank bit me!"
A guy with dirty blonde hair steps foward and pulls me up from the floor roughly by my hair and I stifle a
whimper. I refuse to give them the satisfaction of knowing that it hurts.
"Tough one huh?"
He punches me in the stomach, making my mouth open in a silent scream. It hurts when he drops me to the
asphalt again. I gasp for breath as my eyes water and stare up at him with the utmost contempt.
"Leave her alone!"
The guys turn to see who is trying to interrupt them and my eyes widen. It's cigarrette guy.The guy with the
southern accent steps foward and glares into cigarette guy's hazel eyes.
"What if we don't want to?"
The guy takes out a cigarette and lights it up, shrugging off his black parka in the process. Then he steps
foward so that he's right in front of me and drops the jacket into my hands. I put on the parka, grateful for it's
warmth.
"Then I'll just have to make you."
He steps foward and punches the guy hard in the stomach; the guy falls to the floor, gasping for breath. Then
the rest of them are running towards cigarette guy, who is smiling like this is the most fun he's had in a while.
He takes down the rest of them easily, throwing punches and using their attacks against them. I watch in awe
as the last guy goes down. I don't know who this guy is but he's amazing. He turns back to me, a smudge of
dirt on his cheek. He smiles then squats down so that he's eye level with me.
"You okay?"
I nod somewhat numbly and take his hand when he offers it. He lifts me up effortlessly and then takes my
hand in his warm one, the other one dropping the butt of his cigarette. He walks back toward the warehouse
that he was standing outside of earlier and it is only then that I see the small sign on the metal fence that says
'For Rent' that I understand why there was never anyone around here. The buildings I had passed weren't
warehouses, but those new apartment buildings that I had heard about. Apparently the fact that they were
cheap didn't make up for the fact that the metal walls didn't provide much insulation. He leads me to the door
he was standing outside of earlier and unlocks it. He holds out the door for me and I hesistate. Should I really
be going into this stranger's house? Especially after what had just happened?
"It's okay. I won't hurt you."
Something about the way he says those words convince me and I step inside the surprisingly warm room.
The floor is covered in baby blue wall to wall carpet so I take off my soaked through shoes and leave them on
the green mat at the entrance. The room is small but cozy, with a queen size bed in a corner, a beanbag thrown
in front of it. In the other corner is a medium sized television and then a partition cutting the room in half to
make way for a kitchen. A closet door stands open showing off a variety of black clothing. I look around and
he motions to a door next to the closet that I assume is a restroom. I walk into the bathroom, unsure of what to
do. I have no extra clothes and regardless of that they'd probably be soaked through anyways.
"Hold on. Let me get some of my sweats to loan you. We'll put your clothes in the washer then dry them. Is
that okay?"
His voice is soft and smooth like silk; it's so deep I can almost drown in the sound of it. I nod and then sit
down on the edge of the tub, very much aware of the matted mess that is my hair. He goes out of the doorway
of the restroom and I can hear him rummaging through the closet. He comes back with a pair of black cutoff
sweats and an oversized t-shirt advertising some sort of cafe. He's also carrying a blow dryer. He takes in my
appearance more closely then scowls.
"It looks like you could use a shower; You took a few spills onto the asphalt and you'll begin to feel gritty and
gross before long. Are you okay with that?"
I look at him, trying to see some ulterior motive in those hazel eyes; to my surprise I find none.
"Yea I guess it's okay."
He nods then smiles a soft smile. He puts down the clothes on the edge of the sink and is about to close the
door, when he opens it again.
" I didn't catch your name."
I smile at him.
"True, I'm April. And you are..?
"Jasmeil- Jas for short."
I smile as he closes the door and then look at the dry clothes on the sink. I have a feeling this isn't the las time I'll be seeing Jas.. not if I have anything to say about it.
Chapter 2
I stand outside, taking a long drag off my cigarette, replaying the events that just happened in my head. April… she was an odd one, just judging from her appearance. She obviously came from money- the labels on her clothing (all silk) themselves would’ve put me out of a few paychecks. I pull the cigarette out of my mouth and exhale, watching the smoke intermingle with the droplets of water that were still falling.
If April was so rich that she could afford Dior and Chanel, then why was she walking in the rain? Why was she walking at all? I run the hand that isn’t holding my cigarette through my black hair, and shake my head. It’s not my place to be wondering about her. I just met her, and even though she didn’t say anything when she went into my room, I could see her looking the place over. No, it’s better not to get too involved with her- we’re just too different.
I drop my cigarette to the ground, watching as steam rise when it lands in the puddle. Sighing, I look back to the door of my apartment, resigning myself to let this girl go- without questioning her. I step on the cigarette making sure it’s put out and then open the door.
I close my eyes as the warmth coming from the heater engulfs me and quickly close the door, shrugging off the leather jacket I dawned after my parka got wet. Just as I’m hanging up my jacket, the bathroom door opens, and April comes out, looking dwarfed in the sweats and tee, I gave her. I bite my cheek, trying to hide my smirk. My cutoffs reach her ankles and the tee shirt hangs off her. My mom was tall, and so were my grandparents, so it wasn’t that much of a surprise when I shot up in the seventh grade, dwarfing all my peers. Since then, I’ve always attracted a lot of attention because of my height. I feel my smirk become less pronounced as my train of thought attempts to take me back to the past; towards memories that I’d rather never think about again.
She looks at me, her hair still damp, with a sheepish expression.
“Um… So...?”
I wipe the dark cloud of memories from my mind and sit down on my bed, motioning for her to do the same. I lay back and feel the movement of the bedsprings when she sits down, very primly on the edge of the bed. Her expression has changed from meekness to a hard, unreadable mask. I look over at her, and notice that her eyes look conflicted- like a child who is deciding whether to grab the extra cookie that their parents said ‘no’ to. The silence is loud and engulfs the room, even managing to drown out the soft hum of the washer. I sit up slowly, trying not to startle April and move to my bedside table, reaching for the remote to my stereo, which sits in the corner of my room.
My stereo isn’t one of those six hundred dollar flashy deals. It’s just a thirty dollar stereo hooked up to two small speakers that occasionally get hooked up to my amp so I can use my electric guitar, two items that I had to pawn in order to get a head start on the rent. I bite my lip at the thought of my babies sitting in some storage closet… gathering dust. I fight back the feeling of loss with the knowledge that in two weeks I’d be getting them back.
I turn to April, who is staring at me. Not a normal stare, but one of those examining stares- stares that belong to people who are trying to figure a person out. I smile softly at her and motion to the remote in my hand, watching her eyes light up with curiosity.
“Do you mind if I turn on some music?”
She shakes her head no.
“It’s your apartment.”
I press the play button and a soft piano run starts, followed shortly by some soft harmonica. I smile, as I began singing along with the lyrics, my voice soft.
” It's nine o'clock on a Saturday
The Regular crowd shuffles in
There's an old man sitting next to me
Makin' love to his tonic and gin”
I’m about to start singing the next verse when April’s soft voice takes over. Funny, I didn’t pin her as the type to listen to Billy Joel.
“He says, "Son, can you play me a memory
I'm not really sure how it goes
But it's sad and it's sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man's clothes."
I smirk and then join in.
“La la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum
Sing us a song, you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well, we're all in the mood for a melody
And you've got us feelin' alright”
I get up, feeling lighter than I have in a while, her soft voice complimenting my own substantially deeper one. She tucks her legs underneath her, her eyes bright with joy. I take over the next verse, and April hums softly in the background.
“Now John at the bar is a friend of mine
He gets me my drinks for free
And he's quick with a joke or to light up your smoke
But there's someplace that he'd rather be
He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me."
As the smile ran away from his face,
"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star
If I could get out of this place"
She smiles and we launch into the rest of the song together, the air crackling with something I can’t place. I shrug it off and offer my hand to her, lifting her up with me on the bed.
“Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum
Now Paul is a real estate novelist
Who never had time for a wife
And he's talkin' with Davy, who's still in the Navy
And probably will be for life
And the waitress is practicing politics
As the businessmen slowly get stoned
Yes, they're sharing a drink they call loneliness
But it's better than drinkin' alone”
I offer her my hand when the piano run starts and I twirl her around until the song resumes, a giddy feeling making my chest feel warm.
“Sing us a song you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well we're all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright”
She smiles and takes my hand again, this time leading, as we keep singing at the top of our lungs. There is something therapeutic in singing this song with a complete stranger; oddly enough there is a sense of familiarity and I don’t think that the song has much to do with it.
“It's a pretty good crowd for a Saturday
And the manager gives me a smile
'Cause he knows that it's me they've been comin' to see
To forget about life for a while
And the piano, it sounds like a carnival
And the microphone smells like a beer
And they sit at the bar and put bread in my jar
And say, "Man, what are you doin' here?"
Oh, la la la, di da da
La la, di da da da dum”
We stop dancing as the song winds down, and April looks up at me, confusion blatant in her eyes as I sing the last of the song.
“Sing us a song you're the piano man
Sing us a song tonight
Well we're all in the mood for a melody
And you got us feeling alright”
The song stops and I sink down onto the bed, inexplicably exhausted. The silence has returned and it’s only then that I realize that ‘Piano Man,’ was the last song on my playlist.
“That was… interesting.”
April’s voice is so soft as though she’s afraid to break the silence. I lean back so I’m resting on my elbows and look at her- really look at her. Her short dark hair isn’t damp anymore, and instead of hanging limply like most girls, it’s puffy with volume. Her cheeks are flushed from our singing, and even though her eyes have mixed feelings, a serene smile makes her face light up.
Out of nowhere, a soft rhythm fills the room, and I look at my stereo, wondering where the music is coming from. I don’t recognize the song… but it’s nice. I look over to April and much to my dismay, her smile is gone, and her face has gone ashen. Then a soft voice begins singing.
“My tea's gone cold, I'm wondering why
I got out of bed at all
The morning rain clouds up my window
and I can't see at all”
April gets off the bed, and bolts over to the bathroom, where she reemerges, a soaked bag in hand. She rifles through it, and I realize the song is probably from her cell phone. I sit up, a bad feeling spreading throughout my gut. Why would she be so scared of a phone call? I watch her as she pulls out various things- notebooks, pens etc. She gives a small sigh of relief when she pulls out a small grey phone. She looks at the screen, her expression paling even more (if that’s possible).
“And even if I coul-“
April shoots me an apologetic glance as she presses the ‘Accept’ button, and puts the phone to her ear.
“Hello?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and in that instant, I find myself wishing that I could do something to make her more relaxed- to return her to the state of happiness that she was in only a few minutes ago. I frown slightly when I realize that I don’t know the first thing about her; that I’m overstepping my bounds. I wring my hands, the calloused pads of my fingers doing nothing to soothe me as I rub my hands together. I’m nothing more than a guy who helped her out when she needed it- we’re not even friends. I hang my head- I don’t even know her last name.
“… but Darius! That’s not fair- I cover for you when you get home late! How can you do this! One time- please! Come- Please- Fine then, tell them! I’ll tell them about that time you brought home the waitress…! Oh yes I will. Fine, thanks. Bye.”
She seethes for a moment, and I feel my fists inadvertently clench. I don’t know who ‘Darius’ is, but by how worked up April is, he can’t be anyone good. April’s cheeks are red from yelling into the phone, and I can tell from the glazed over look in her eyes that she is only seconds from crying. I feel the strong compulsion to do something, but I can’t bring myself to do anything. It would be inappropriate, someone like me, a stranger to comfort a girl like her.
She puts her phone back in her bag, and it’s only then that I notice the washer has finished. I shoot her a glance, and move across the room to put her clothing in the dryer. Almost mechanically, I load the dryer, my mind a mess. This girl… she’s something different. I run a hand through my hair and then rest the palms on the cool surface of the dryer, careful to keep my back to her. Somehow, I know if I see her crying, I might start crying too.
“Your clothes will be out in about ten minutes.”
Ten precious minutes and then I’ll probably never see this girl again. A sharp pain in my chest makes me wince. Why is it so hard to let this girl go?
“Oh okay… That was my brother- he’s a real ass sometimes… But then again I guess you probably gleaned that from our... ‘Conversation’”
“If you could call it that.”
I clap a hand over my mouth, cursing it. The words slipped through without my meaning to. I turn around, and see April staring at me with her eyes wide.
“What did you mean by that?”
I look away from her, wishing that I wasn’t partly to blame for the vast sea of hurt in her eyes.
“Nothing- it just slipped out.”
She gets up and crosses the room so she’s right in front of me. She opens her mouth like she’s going to tell me something but then closes it, her expression turning to stone again.
“You have no right to judge my brother.”
I want to say that I wasn’t, but I can tell from the stormy look in her eyes that she’s not listening anymore. I can’t help but shake a feeling that she’s telling me not to judge her, not her brother.
“I’m sorry…”
She nods and then sits back down on the bed. I stand awkwardly, not entirely sure of what to do.
“Do you need a ride home? I have a motorcycle…”
April nods, and even though she puts on a smile when she thanks me, so softly that I almost don’t hear her, I can’t help but feel like trash when I notice her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.
Chapter 3
I honestly don't know why I defended my brother. He didn't deserve to be defended. We're twins sure, but just because you shared, a womb with someone didn’t mean that you automatically had a link with that person. Sure, when we were younger and still had a nanny, we were close. As we grew older, we grew apart. He began to date, while I stayed home and studied for the next day's test. He went out to parties, while I typed up a report that wasn't due for another month. He drank and smoked weed, I tried with all of my being to ignore the stench that was present on his clothes whenever he came home.
Darius - that's what he calls himself, my dear brother. He would just die if anyone knew that his name was actually Eric. It was such a clean cut name- respectable. Eric and I aren't actually that different. Despite his grades, he really is smart. Smart enough to read tomes thicker than my fist in only a few days, using only his breaks from partying to do so. He could draw, and dance, and recite poems that spanned several pages from memory. He can do everything I can, except the difference is that he doesn’t have to work for it. He can do all of it using the least amount of effort necessary. I shudder at the thought of what he could accomplish if he actually applied himself.
He’s never done anything for me- at all. He even goes so far as to make fun of and insult me whenever he brings his friends over. He says things like ‘We aren’t twins, no matter what anyone says; as far as I’m concerned I’m adopted.” Or “Yea, go study you prude, while you’re at it, why don’t you get me a beer and be useful, or something?” I stare at the floor; taking in its texture- it’s so very different from the cold tile of my bedroom. When I wake up in the morning, it’s always so cold, no matter how high the heater in my room is. This carpet… it has character, unlike the cold, plain white tile that I’ve spent my sixteen years looking at.
“Are you okay?”
I look up, snapping out of my reverie and catch sight of the worried expression on Jas’ face. I put on my most convincing smile, but from the way his frown deepens, I know it didn’t work. I sigh, debating whether I should tell him what I’m thinking. He raises an eyebrow and I take it as my cue to start talking. Funny, I won’t talk to any of my classmates, at least not intimately, who I’ve known for years, but I’ll talk to a boy who I’ve only known for about an hour. It’s amusing, the way life unfolds.
“I’ll tell you something about me if you answer one question of mine.”
I hate the way my voice quavers but I can’t do anything about it. This boy… this boy, he reacts differently than what I’m used to. He doesn’t shy away from me, but then again he doesn’t really know who I am. If he did, he’d probably be running for the hills, just like the rest of them.
“Did you hear? That new girl, April, she’s the daughter of Daniel Fernandez.”
I wince when I hear my father’s name. It’s going to happen again. I’m going to be shut out before they even know me.
“THE Daniel Fernandez- as in the guy that owns half the town?”
A soft, deeper chuckle follows and I hang my head in shame. They say it with such envy- they probably think that I’m like every other rich girl they’ve seen or read about, conceited, stupid, and vain beyond words. If only they knew that, I’d trade my life for theirs in a second…
“Ask away- I have no secrets.”
I stare at him, trying to shake off the vividness of the memory. I make myself more comfortable on his bed and then stare straight into his hazel eyes.
“How come you live here? I mean… alone.”
He looks at me for a moment and then sighs before retrieving a battered blue beanbag and settling into it.
“I’m alone because I got tired of being around my mom- she would come home so drunk that the next morning she wouldn’t even remember going out to drink the night before. Aside from the headaches, which she claimed were migraines, I had no proof that she had gone drinking and she went out to drink again. I left her believing that it was the 2nd, when in reality it was the 12th.”
I stare at him in disbelief. Most people would be bitter. Most people would have given up on her a long time ago. I close my mouth, reminding myself that Jas obviously isn’t your normal person.
“Isn’t that running away?”
He shifts on the beanbag so that he’s lying on his back, eyes staring up at the ceiling.
“I worked every summer, and beside that I had a part time job. I saved every penny and hired a lawyer. I’m emancipated.”
He bites his lower lip, closing his eyes for a moment. His eyebrows are scrunched up, like when someone is about to cry.
“You want to know the worst of it? My mom signed the emancipation papers while she was drunk. I bet she doesn’t even remember that she signed her kid away…”
Tears pool through his closed eyes, and I get off the bed slowly, before sitting down next to him and placing a hand on his shoulder.
“I think that she knew what she was doing, to some extent. Maybe it was her way of saying that she loved you enough to let you go.”
He tenses up under my touch, opening his eyes, an incredulous expression on his face. I bite my lip, and withdraw my hand, tempted to sit back on the bed. Jas’ expression softens a bit and he lies back down, thoughtful.
“Maybe…”
I lay my head down on the edge of the beanbag, stretching out.
“I believe you owe me a… explanation.”
I feel a frown tug at my lips.
“That I do.”
We stay silent for a moment before he takes a deep breath.
“My last name is Fernandez- and before you ask, yes my dad is Daniel Fernandez. Despite what everyone thinks, I’m not the stereotypical rich girl. I’ve been raising myself since the age of eight, when my dad decided against hiring any more nannies and my mom decided that attending galas was more important than getting to know her own children. I have a twin brother, Eric, who likes to pretend he’s something he’s not, just to rebel against my dad. I on the other hand, strive for perfection. I never go out, I never do wrong, and I pass all my classes with flying colors. And you know what? Not once, not once have I ever gotten anything more than a pat on the back, and a ‘good job’. Sometimes I wonder why I even bother…”
The tension in the air is palpable; I know he wants to say something… I can practically hear our hearts beating hard- his from surprise and mine from exertion.
“And I suppose that because of your last name, nobody even tries to get near you.”
I bite my lip, fighting tears.
“Y-yes. Nobody wants to risk upsetting the ‘princess’ so nobody even bothers talking to me. It’s an efficient system. How am I supposed to get mad about something when they wouldn’t talk to me even if it was to save their lives?”
He turns over and stares at me intently.
“If it’s any consolation, I won’t run. I know we only met, but… I know how it feels. To be isolated I mean. Nobody ever wanted to get near me because I was a ‘delinquent’. I would miss school constantly because I’d stay home to make sure my mom was okay. Then sometimes when we didn’t have money to get groceries, I’d steal from convenience stores and places like that. I got into fights whenever people said crap about my mom. I got suspended- a lot. So… if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’ll be here.”
I feel my throat clench up and take a deep breath. It’s the nicest thing that anyone’s ever said to me.
“T-thanks… I might just take you up on that offer… that is, unless… are you going to enroll in school or anything?”
He looks at me oddly before nodding.
“I already have. I’m going to that school a couple of blocks away… umm...”
“Genesis High?”
His eyes widen as he nods again, his expression that of disbelief.
“Yea… um do you go there?”
I nod and sit up, gazing at him intently. I wonder why he seems so surprised. Maybe he thought I went to a private school. He closes his eyes for a moment and when he reopens them, they are shining with something. We sit in silence for a few moments before I realize that the dryer has stopped its humming. I hang my head a bit and then stand up, an awkward air overcoming the room.
“Umm… the clothes are done.”
Jas looks at me for a few moments before comprehending what I’m saying and jumps to his feet as well. He has an awkward smile on his face. I don’t think he wants me to go- I know I don’t.
“Okay, let me get them and then-“
“April!”
Someone pounds furiously on the door and I turn around, moving towards the door. That voice… It can’t be! Jas is looking at me, obviously confused. I shrug and open the door, revealing none other than my brother, Eric. His face, identical to mine, is contorted in anger… and something else I can’t quite place. He looks over what I’m wearing, disapproval reflected in his eyes. He himself is dressed in some Goth get up, all leather and chains. His nails are painted black and he has green and blue highlights through his straightened hair. Hm, I guess he’s making his way through all the cliques again.
“Eric, why are you- I mean… how did you know where I was?”
He smirks at me, some of the anger dissipating from his expression and turning a bit bitter.
“Your cell phone- it has a tracker in it. I hacked mom’s PC and found you. Now, would you mind telling me what the hell you’re doing in this part of town?”
I bite my lower lip, remembering the incident that brought me into Jas’ life.
“I was walking home and then these guys… they attacked me. Jas, he stopped them, I was all wet because of the rain, and he offered to wash my clothes for me. They’re in the drier.”
Eric stares at me hard, and then motions inside.
“Can I… Can I meet this guy?”
I shrug because I know he’s just going to push past me and talk to him anyway. He frowns and then pushes past me. I turn around and see Jas waiting for us, arms crossed and my clothes folded on the bed. I smile wryly at him, and to my relief his expression loses some of the stoniness. Jas looks away from me, a slight smile on his face and appraises Eric. He sticks his hand out in greeting.
“Nice to meet you- I’m Jasmeil.”
My brother takes his hand and shakes it.
“Eric- So, you saved my sister?”
Jas nods as Eric lets his hand go. Eric’ expression is blank, which is never a good thing. That means that he’s plotting something.
“For that I thank you.”
Eric smiles then turns to me, an unreadable edge in his eyes.
“April, would you go change, please?”
I open my mouth to protest but then Jas shoots me a look and I find myself picking up my clothes. I look to my brother and mouth ‘No funny business’. He chuckles in response. I walk into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me; instead of changing, I drop to the floor and press my ear to the crack in between the door and the floor. If I so much as hear my brother make a threat, I’m going to run out there. Jas is too good of a person to be bullied by my brother.
“So, tell me, why did you save my sister?”
“She was in trouble- I saw her and took action. It’s the way I was raised.”
“So just to clarify, you didn’t invite her in to get into her pants?”
“No- and by the way, you can stop beating around the bush. You don’t have to worry about me going after her. I know who she is, where she comes from. She’s a good person, but I’m not going to complicate her life by going after her when she’s clearly off limits.”
A slight pause follows, and I can feel my heart racing. The cool tile beneath my hands is the only thing helping me cling to reality. Jas… I close my eyes and rest my head against the tile, my head spinning faster than I ever thought it could.
“Good, at least I know we’re on the same page. I might act as though I don’t care about my sister, but the fact is that we’re flesh and blood. I’ll always look out for her.”
I pick myself up off the floor. I don’t want to hear anything else. I shouldn’t have even eavesdropped. There were just some things I wasn’t meant to hear and both of those confessions fall in that category. Methodically, I strip and change into my clothes, their silky feel almost foreign on my skin. I look at the pile of clothes on the floor, Jas’ clothes. A part of me wants to change back into them and confront both Jas and Eric about what they said. The larger part of me is the one that picks up the clothes and opens the bathroom door.
Eric is leaning up against the wall, twirling his keys in his hand. Jas is nowhere to be seen.
“Are you ready to leave?”
His voice is smug and his eyes are glimmering. I scowl and place the clothing on Jas’ bed. I cross my arms and look my twin in the eye.
“Does it matter?”
Chapter 4
Honestly, I don't think I'd ever be ready to leave Jas' place. It may sound cliche, but that's the freest I've ever felt, singing with Jas. Talking with him. Laughing. It almost felt like I had a friend.
Despite all of that, I trudge out into the cloudy afternoon and wait for my ever-so-loving brother by his car. The car itself is nothing impressive, just a beat up old junk heap that he bought on a whim. I don't have a car because my father thinks I'll end up crashing and then he'll no longer have someone to take over his company. I don't think he understood how twisted his words sounded at that moment.
Of course my mother agreed with him wholeheartedly. Why wouldn't she? After all he is the one that pays for her gooey gowns and cheap motels where she takes her various lovers. How my parents are still together I have no idea. I think it has to do with the fact that my mother never signed a prenuptial agreement, and my father would have a coronary if he thought someone was going to take his money. Greedy bastard.
I giggle, covering my mouth when the sound came out. My eyes go wide. I just called my father a bastard... I giggle again, the heady feeling of rebellion taking over me.
"Well I guess I'll see you around?"
My eyes go even wider when I realize that this entire time Jas has been watching me. He must think I'm a spaz. Still, I can't help the smile that comes to my face as I nod. I look at my brother, who at this point has a vein visibly pulsing in his forehead, when I speak.
"Definitely."
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I sigh as I watch her drive away. Her brother shoots me one last murderous glare via the rear-view mirror but I really can't bring myself to care. I pull out a cigarette and light it. I take a long drag as I process the events that unfolded. I smirk as I realize that I'm going to see April again tomorrow. I honestly don't think I've ever been this excited to go to school.
I take another long drag from the cigarette as I contemplate how to approach her. It shouldn't be hard. After all, she made it abundantly clear that her reputation is shot so I don't think being caught hanging out with the resident delinquent will have an adverse affect on her standing at GH. Hell she could probably wear a banana suit and it'd improve. I chuckle and then begin coughing when the smoke goes down the wrong way. With distaste, I snuff out the mostly new cigarette and put it back in the pack.
I open the door to my "apartment"-shack is a more appropriate word actually- and close it slowly, letting the heat sink into my bones. I really need to learn to don a jacket or something before going outside. I toe off my shoes and then flop down onto my bed, reliving the last half hour in my head. If only April's douche of a brother hadn't shown up...
I sit up abruptly at the thought of said brother. I'm sure if April goes to Genesis High, then her brother must to. Suddenly approaching her seems much harder. Darius made it plenty obvious that he'd rather get eaten by a snake than let his sister associate with the likes of me.
I lay back down, curling in on myself and feeling abnormally raw. Normally people didn't like or approve of me, and normally it didn't hurt. For some reason though, Darius' disapproval stung. It shouldn't, but there you have it. Maybe it's because he looks so much like April...
Instead of dwelling on that obviously unwanted thought, I pull the cover over myself, turn on my music and drift into the sweet oblivion that is daydreaming.
Chapter 5
"What was that all about April?"
I stare at Darius, unsure of what he means. Is he talking about my obvious disregard of what he said or the fact that I was at Jas' place in the first place? I bite my lip, biting back a giggle, and turn away from him. I can feel his eyes boring into my back.He really should watch the road instead of scrutinize me when he knows he's done worse.
"I don't know what you mean."
He scoffs and I bite back one of my own. He makes a sharp turn and I flinch. I don't understand why he's so angry. Usually he doesn't care if I get home, or do my homework, or if I'm happy. Why is he suddenly so interested in me? We screech to a stop at a red light.
"You know what I mean April."
He puts his hand on my shoulder and turns me around forcefully. I glare at him, arms crossed over my chest. His eyes are cold and hard and completely unfamiliar. Where was the condescending, reckless, rebellious brother I've come to loath and distrust?
"Why were you there at that boy's house? Why were you even walking? In the rain no less! What if nobody had come to your rescue? What if those guys got what they were after? Why-"
I clench my teeth and I my fingernails bite into the soft part of my hand.
"WHY DO YOU CARE?!"
He recoils, rage and hurt battling in his eyes. Those eyes that look so much like mine... I turn away from him, clamping down on the guilt that floods me. I have no reason to be guilty... none at all. Again he forces me to face him. Fine, he wants to talk, then we'll talk. I move closer to him, not caring that the people in the car next to us are staring. For once, I don't care what anyone thinks.
"Since when do you care about whether or not I get home safely? For all you know I could be out around the town and spreading my legs-"
Slap!
My cheek feels like its on fire. My hand flies up to it and the coolness of my own smooth hand soothes it a bit. I stare at him, blindsided. His face is contorted with rage. How could he? What right does he have-
"You don't have to like me, but you will respect me. I've seen more of the world than you have. I know people like that drop-out delinquent that "saved" you. Hell I have friends like him! While you sit at home studying, I go out and visit the slums. Places like you were today. I've seen things that I hope you never have to see. I will not be yelled at by a sheltered little girl who doesn't know me from Adam. I may be your brother but that doesn't mean you know me-"
The light turns green and Darius tears his gaze away from me and refocuses it on the road. My hand still hasn't left my cheek. He sighs in exasperation as he starts driving again. It's only when I pull my hand away from my face that I realize that I'm crying.
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The rest of the drive is silent, and when we pull up to the house I bolt from the car and run up the steps of the mansion. Never before have I seen this porcelain prison as a safe haven. I guess there's a first time for everything. I shove my key into the door, and run into the foyer and up the stairs. I don't even bother pulling my key from the lock.
"April!"
Darius is right behind me, but years of smoking to spite our parents has taken it's toll. He can't keep up with me. Not when I run everyday. I sprint down the hallway, tears nearly blinding me. I get to my room and throw open the door. I glare at Darius, who is clutching at his side, breathing heavily. I slam the door and lock it before sinking to the floor, my back against the cold, hard oak of the door.
I shrink in on myself; my knees up to my chest, and my face buried in my hands. The tears are hot against my cool face. I don't even bother trying to wipe them away. There's no one here to pretend for, no one here to judge poor little April Fernandez, daughter of a millionaire and the loneliest girl on this earth.
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I groan as April slams the door. Still clutching my side, I move towards the wall and sink down until the chains on my skinny jeans clink on the cold tile floor. I really fucked things up. I of all people have no right to be yelling at her, Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, about breaking rules.
The pain in my side ebbs slightly and I move my hand away from it, carding it through my hair instead. I let out a sigh as I picture April, running through the rain, strawberry blonde hair matted to her shoulders. Scared, naive and defenseless...
How could I be such an idiot? What if that Jas guy hadn't shown up... What if...
I punch the wall in frustration. I was just trying to make her see reason. I just wanted her to understand what could have
happened. I was trying to make her understand why she shouldn't be there. Why she shouldn't follow in my footsteps...
I shake my head to clear those thoughts out. April is nothing like me, nothing like me at all...
Damn it, I really need a cigarette.
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Tag der Veröffentlichung: 25.12.2010
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