Of Frost & Cinder (Old Version)

Impossible Things

Chapter 16

The cafe entrance jingles again to announce the arrival of a new guest. When I look up from my usual table—the one Pete and I sat in last weekend—and see a guy in a leather coat and shoulder-length hair, I'm smacked with a brief sense of deja-vu. I half expect to be met with bright eyes full of angst and rebellion, but these ones are simple and brown...human.

The disappointment that replaces my anticipation is overwhelming. I shouldn't be so...annoyed that Beck hasn't contacted me since I shut the door in his face. As much as I wanted him to stay, I was more afraid of my mother coming home to see a guy sleeping on my floor, especially one who is much older, much hairier, than my best friend. What would I do if Mom walked in to see Beck in my room? Would she be mad? Does she have a right to be? I suppose I could just release the dramatic daughter within me and unleash all this pent up tension building like massive cyst in my stomach lining.

Yeah, because that would get us nowhere. I sigh. Mom would probably just toss herself on the couch and sob for hours, but not before calling Dad to spell out everything. He'd probably come over then and bullshit his way through the argument until him and Mom basically backs me into a corner and shoves a pill down my throat.

I hit the unlock button on my phone and scour for messages that I know aren't there.

"Pete, where are you?" I whisper under my breath, creating a new text message.

Forget something? I type. Thought we were meeting up.

Most of the time, Pete's late, but never more than a few minutes. Only once have I ever seen him breach the fifteen minute mark, just before the Fall play for our Freshmen year. He was so late that the art department didn't have enough time to strap on a cotton pillow to his back, so he had to suffer through the first act of the play as a hunchback with no hunch. He was reamed by Mr. Moreno, our drama teacher, in front of the entire class the next day. It's safe to say that his humiliation definitely put him off being late for anything since, even simple meet-ups in town, with me. So, why is he twenty-five minutes late now?

PETE, I'm leaving. See you tomorrow, I text to him after another five minutes have passed.

I half hope to get a reply from him as I'm walking out, saying that he overslept and is on his way. But that doesn't happen, and it only intensifies my irritation. We were supposed to head over to the mall to grab a new dress for formal, and I need Pete there so that we can compare his tux colors to the dresses for a best match. My first dress was utterly perfect with it's cremes and champagnes and chiffon material. At least, it was until the Twinkie twins decided to go all Rambo with their gravy bullets.

When I get to my car, I pause, taking a moment to exhale and decompress. I've been so on edge the last few days, like everything just keeps piling on and rising higher and higher that even the smallest things have been setting me off. Like Pete not showing up today, or how I haven't spent more than five minutes in the same room as my Mom all week, or how I had to tell Mr. Moreno that I couldn't audition for the play. The heavier this stress gets, the angrier I grow, and I keep waiting for that moment where I just combust from all this supernatural stress taking over my real life problems.

Deep down, I know that on the spectrum of things, a formal dress is the least of my worries. This whole last week I've felt like I've been swooped up and transplanted into another person's life, and I just don't quite fit in their shoes. Call me shallow or scared or whatever, but forcing my energy into something like a dress for dance makes me feel so normal...so human.

But what if I'm not human? I toss my phone inside my bag. Despite what Olivian protested, there is a small chance that I am something more, something supernatural. I mean, why else would my parents be so afraid of me knowing what they know?