meaning that she just couldn't grasp, the effects of it were starting to seep through to her waking life.
Her ominous dream aside, what really nagged at her was the fact that her mother was not home yet. She moved groggily from the couch and made to get up, but a sudden pain in her back stopped her. She opted to sit instead and cursed the uncomfortable half sitting position that she had been dozing in.
Something tickled her cheeks, her ponytail had come undone. She took out the dangling elastic band and pulled it back into a messy bun. Her back muscles ached as she stretched them.
It was as if a large truck full of bricks had ran over her. She was starting to regret taking the nap in the first place, it had left her feeling more tired now than she did before.
She turned off the TV and got up. Kennedy walked across the room. her hand reached out to move aside the blinds to look out the window and checked to see if Teresa's car was in the driveway. Maybe she'd been so deeply asleep that she hadn't heard her come in.
It wasn't.
She let go of the blinds, they fell back into their previous position hanging over the glass window as she tapped around the wall with her right hand, looking for the light switch. She found it right away and flicked it up with a finger, squinting as the brightness of the bulb invaded her senses.
She waited a bit for her eyes to readjust to the change in lighting and stepped out through the hallway and into the kitchen, turning on the lights there too as she went.
Everything was as she had left it, indicating that her previous conclusion of her mother's absence was true. A bitter wave of anger started to rise inside her, but it was quelled instantly by a stronger feeling, a powerful hurt at the idea that her mother would rather stay at work in the company of strangers instead of coming home to her.
Kennedy swallowed back the urge to cry and hit something. She busied herself with putting away the untouched food. Even though she hadn't eaten at all in the entire day, she didn't feel hungry anymore.
She only took a couple of cupcakes and a glass of cold milk and went outside to sit on the porch swing. When she got there, she settled on the steps instead.
She placed the cupcakes and the milk besides her on the floor.
Kennedy felt, rather than heard a small rustle in one of her pockets as she sat and reached a hand into it. Out came the hand with a folded piece of paper clasped within it, the flyer she had made earlier. With a surge of anger she closed her fist around it and crumpled it into a tiny ball.
What was the use? Her mother was so far gone in her denial of her father's disappearance that she would have never accepted it anyway, just as she had prohibited Kennedy to involve the police in the matter when she had tried to approach her on the subject.
She didn't know how long she sat there, looking aimlessly at the vacant street before her and listening to the chirping sounds of the crickets and the singular call of the coquí frogs in the background, her mind a complete blank.
There was a sudden change in the atmosphere. The night had gone deathly still, even the crickets had quieted their melodies and the silence was deafening.
Something moved in her peripheral vision. She turned her head to see Damien walking in her general direction. Kennedy tensed in expectation. What reason could he possibly have for approaching her at that time of night?
She stared wordlessly as he came to a halt at the bottom step and extended his hand towards her, what seemed to be a chocolate bar was held securely in it. She was sure that her face looked as surprised as she felt because he shifted his hand so that its palm faced upwards. The motion allowed the candy bar to rest lightly on it.
She looked between his face and the offered hand in confusion. He sighed.
“Peace offering.” He spoke at last, a bit of exasperation in his tone. She shivered at the sound of his deep voice.
“What for?” Kennedy instantly regretted her stupid question as he raised both his eyebrows and looked at her, a bemused expression adorned his handsome features.
She already knew why, with what she had gathered, in her last not so pleasant conversation with him, she knew that he was an intelligent man. For that same reason, she also knew that he recognized that he had been crude to her, but was obviously not voicing it any time soon.
Men can be unfathomable idiots.
“I honestly don't understand why you care, but offering accepted.” She took the proffered chocolate bar, replaced it with a cupcake and watched as the ghost of a smile began to form on his full lips.
“We are going to be neighbors. I felt that I needed to smooth out some rough spots that had arisen between us.” Trust him to find the blandest explanation for his chivalrous action. She thought about what he had said and found a fluke that, she was confident, he hadn't measured.
“Actually, we're not going to be neighbors at all – he sent her a dubious look and she proceeded to explain what she meant – I'm leaving for college in august.” Which was roughly about eight weeks from then. He took in that bit of information before he replied.
“Well, I will be having my chocolate back then, if you will?” He extended his hand as he asked her with mock indignation, at least she hoped it was feigned.
“I will not. You can't take back a gift, much less a peace offering! It would be rude and that would mute the whole point of it anyways.” He did something totally unexpected then.
He smiled, a bright, beautiful smile that she was sure would've made her knees give if she hadn't been sitting already.
“Very well. I did get this tasty looking cupcake in return. I suppose that has got to count for something.”
“There, see? All settled.” She opened the wrapper of her peace offering and presented him with a piece. He looked at her intently for a few seconds before he finally reached out to take it.
“What is that?” He asked, pointing to the furrowed ball of paper that had been clutched in her hand all the while.
She glanced silently at the damaged flyer and handed it to him without explaining. Damien unfolded the crumpled ball and looked at the wrinkled paper.
“ ¿Ha visto este hombre?” Have you seen this man? He read out loud and stopped at that, he got the idea and gave it back to her. “Is that your father?”
“Yes, you wouldn't know him, I guess. He left the day you moved in next door.”
“Left – he mulled over the word – you say that as if he has abandoned you and yet you plan to put that out to find him?”
“My mom doesn't want me to. She refuses to even consider the thought of him leaving us.” Leaving her, she thought to herself. She felt the anger return when she spoke of her mother. It didn't go unnoticed.
“You are angry with her.” It was more a statement than a question.
“Yes, no, I don't know – she covered her face with her hands and blew out a breath before talking again – I know it's stupid and I know that I'm being stubborn about it. He's a grown man and he'll come home when he wants to, but this time it feels different somehow.”
“I gather that he has done it before?” He asked and she nodded her head in affirmation.
“I needed to do something. I couldn't just sit around and wait for his call.”
“And you should not have to, I am sure that your mother will understand.” His vehemence sparked a little hope inside of her.
“Maybe, but I don't see how. She practically never comes home from work anymore.” The bitterness was back in her voice.
“Is that why you are sitting alone outside this late into the night?” He seemed to know the answer to every question that he had asked her so far. It disconcerted her.
“I don't want to be inside. I can feel the emptiness all around the house and it's massive. Does that make any sense?”
“Very much.” His assertion warmed her. She was about to open her mouth to say something, but she forgot what it was. Something in her back pocket vibrated.
“You are chiming.” He said seriously and she almost burs
t out laughing. She had just received a text message.
“Excuse me.” She said and he nodded as she took out her cell phone and unblocked the key pad to read the message.
She frowned, it was from Lauren. It asked how she'd been since they had last talked.
Kennedy was tempted to reply with a nasty message about ungrateful people that ignored their proclaimed loved ones, then desisted of the notion, she knew that directing her frustrations at Lauren wasn't fair and it would not help their friendship in the slightest.
“I will take that as my cue to leave.” Damien interrupted her thoughts, her head shot up to meet his ocean blues. She wanted to say something, but what could she say that wouldn't sound like a pathetic plea for his company? Absolutely nothing, and that's why she kept quiet.
“You should go back inside. I am sure that your mother will be here soon enough.”
“All right – she waited for him to be the first to move, then added as an after thought – why are you being nice to me?”
He contemplated his answer.
“I do not know.” It was the truth. She could see it on his face.
“Would you have liked me better if I truly were an ill mannered prick?” And he was back.
“That peace thing didn't last you very long.” She smiled at him. He gave her a smirk in return.
“Why, I have no idea what you mean.” He tried to look as clueless as possible and if she hadn't been a witness to his crude wit, maybe she would've believed him.
“Yeah, okay and I'm the Virgin Mary.”
“Are you really?” He exclaimed in pretend astonishment.
“No and I'm sure you're no saintly angel either, so lets just say good night and leave it at that.” He gave her a you have no idea look and smiled again. That time it was the same crooked smile that he had given her the morning that she had served him pancakes. It made him look roguish and yet in some strange way, it fit perfectly with his features.
“Good night, Kennedy.”
“Night.” She got up and watched as he retreated to his house, never once looking back.
She playfully thought of suing one of the writers of the paperback novels that her mother loved to read for giving her so many high expectations.
That hadn't been romantic at all.
She sighed and went back inside.
Kennedy took a long hot shower and slipped into her favorite Cracker Monster pajamas.
She was moving around her bedroom, getting ready for bed when she remembered that she still hadn't texted Lauren back.
She walked to the bedside table where she had left her phone charging and picked it up, disconnecting the charger cable as she did.
She replied to her friend's message with a simple, “am ok hope u r 2 :)”, and stared at the phone for a while.
The temptation to call her mother was almost overbearing. She wound up dialing her father instead. The line rang once, twice and was picked up after the third time.
“Papa,” She started hopefully and was interrupted by the voicemail recording.
“Hi, you've reached Steven Riser. I can't answer right now. If this is an emergency, call the archer.” Her father's words were quickly followed by a shrill beep. She ended the call.
Disappointment and confusion warred in her mind. The word archer stood amidst them.
That had been the name that the stranger that had called right before her father left had given her, and now her father mentioned it in his new voicemail greeting. It was the only reference that she had.
At least she knew that he was still alive.
A car pulled into the driveway. Kennedy looked at the time, just another minute until midnight. Her mother was finally home.
4. Emergency
Kennedy had the feeling that things between Teresa and her would never be the same again.
She remembered her mother's worn face when she’d arrived last night. She was tired, both physically and emotionally.
Teresa had given her a weak smile that had made her forget ever being mad at her as she passed by her bedroom. Kennedy had wanted to run to her and hug her and tell her that everything would be okay. But, that would be a lie and they’d both know it, so she simply smiled back and her mother had kept on her way.
It was late morning now. Kennedy was in her bedroom wrapped in only a towel. She'd just gotten out of the shower and was looking in her closet for some clothes with Lauren on the phone.
They started showing a new horror film at the movie theater that week and she was thinking of going to see it that afternoon. Maybe a couple of hours of fake blood and unrealistic CGI would help keep her mind off things. If she kept worrying like that, she would be crazy by the end of the month. She smiled to herself.
“Nedy? Kennedy!” The sound of Lauren’s voice on the other end of the line returned her to the present. She had zoned out again.
“What?” She asked, trying to sound innocent and failing.
“Are you even listening to me?” Lauren was miffed. Kennedy tried fruitlessly to recall her friend’s earlier words.
“Yes – her answer was met by expectant silence – okay, no. But, I’m listening to you now.”
“If this is a bad time, I can always call later.” Lauren’s tone was less indignant now. She sounded concerned.
“No, don’t! I’m sorry, Laurie. I guess I just spaced out – which wasn’t a lie – you know how I am. But, I want to hear your story, so I’m all ears now.”
“Okay, if you’re sure – but she didn’t wait for a reply. She went on with her tale and didn’t ask for a recount of what she’d said.
Kennedy inwardly berated herself.
She was a ditz, a bozo and a poop-brain dodo.
But, most of all, she was a rotten friend.
Lauren talked animatedly about her week with Nathan and, as her best friend, she was supposed to share in some of the excitement. But, all she could think about was her own crumbling life.
Her father’s new voicemail greeting kept going around in circles through her brain. She sat down on her bed and listened to her friend’s chatter.
She payed as much attention as she could, lest she be caught letting her mind wander again. Lauren's words slowed, her voice acquired a dreamy sound and Kennedy picked up the words hotel and bed in the same sentence. She was suddenly alert.
“Oh, Laurie, please tell me you didn’t do it!” She pleaded, although she knew the answer already. That was the reason that Lauren had taken time off her blossoming relationship with this Nathan guy. She wanted to tell Kennedy that she had given her virginity to him.
“And what if I did? I’m eighteen. You’re my best friend. I thought that you of all people would be happy for me.” Lauren sounded hurt and immediately became defensive, at least that part of her friend hadn’t changed yet.
Now that she was sure that she was treading on familiar territory, she felt compelled to give her opinion.
“That’s right. I’m your best friend and it's my job to act as the voice of reason whenever I think you’re being reckless.” Lauren didn’t reply. She could hear the sounds of cars driving by in the background. It sounded like she was somewhere outside.
Kennedy looked for something to say that would soften the edge of her words.
“Look, I don't know anything about relationships. Maybe I'm wrong, maybe you'll end up marrying him and rubbing it in my face. I love you, you're more of a sister to me than if we actually shared the same blood and I don’t wanna see you get hurt.”
“You don’t know him, Nedy.” Lauren’s voice was but a whisper. It sounded like she was trying to reassure herself rather than her friend.
“You’re right, I don’t. It's just that the whole thing sounds like a summer fling to me.” Lauren went silent again.
“Hey, it’s your body, your life and ultimately your decision to make, but you’ve only known him for a few weeks. What guarantees do you have that he’s even going to be around after
this?” Kennedy waited out the long silence that followed. She hoped that her friend would be okay and that she wouldn't begrudge her that conversation.
“You sound like my mother would – Kennedy was tempted to ask if her mother knew about it and felt stupid just for thinking it – but you’re right. I know that you’re right. I just can’t stop feeling what I feel.”
“And no one asked you to, I only want you to be careful and think things through before you do – Kennedy was going to say, ‘something you’ll regret’, but that would have been redundant so instead she said – anything else.”
“I know, I’m sorry for going all defensive on you, Baby Girl. I guess I knew all of that already, but I needed to hear it from somebody else to able to accept it.”
“Well, I’m sorry I had to be the one doing the eye-opening.”
“That’s why you’re my friend. Besides, someday it will be my turn to the return the favor. I promise I’ll talk to Nathan tonight and establish where we stand relationship-wise.”
“Good, but be subtle about it. You don’t wanna scare him away if he really cares. After all, he is a man and I hear they’re naturally dumb when it comes to matters of the heart.” Lauren giggled heartily and though her heart ached for what her friend had lost and would never regain, Kennedy beamed.
The changeling was gone.
Kennedy was left mentally exhausted after her long talk with Lauren and was tempted to just lie back on her bed and shut out the rest of the world. Then again, she'd been doing a lot of that lately and she was positive that to keep doing it wouldn't be the most healthy thing that she could do.
She had a few hours to kill before the movie. But, she got dressed anyway.
Kennedy pulled on her favorite washed up jeans and a black tee shirt that read, “I’m a vampire. See me sparkle”, in big glittery letters.
She sat at the edge of her bed to put on her black pair of worn out converses, she wore them so much that her mother often joked about how the shoes would come after her if she ever left the house without them.
She glanced out her balcony doors. The curtains were pulled back and tied at the edges. One of the glass doors was open by an inch and she could hear voices coming from the neighboring driveway.
Damien’s driveway.
Slowly, she opened the door the rest of the way and settled into one of the white plastic chairs of her balcony. She sat there and made a project out of going through her phone’s image gallery. She tried to act as nonchalantly as possible while eavesdropping. It didn't work, she couldn't hear a thing.
She peeked into the adjacent driveway from the corner of her right eye and saw Damien arguing tensely with another man in front of his car. Their voices were angry whispers that she couldn’t make out.
From where she sat, she could see that the man was taller than Damien. He was fair, from the pale shade of his skin to the nearly white roots of his extremely blond hair. His eyes couldn’t be discerned from that far away, but she would’ve bet anything that they were a light color.
Green, maybe? Or blue, like Damien's.
He gestured elegantly as he talked. Kennedy was instantly reminded