Rocky Road: Sequel Book Three

Chapter 16

Elena

“Class! You don’t understand. This is an argumentative essay. You need to change my mind and help me to see what you see.” Our professor reminds me of Bob Ross. His hair is wild and curly; his enthusiasm is off the charts. I try not to giggle to myself with Bob Ross’s old saying, ‘there are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’

Not sure how Professor Williams would feel about that quote though.

“This essay needs to have facts galore with the narrative to change my perspective on whatever stance you are taking; be willing to bet I will play devil’s advocate,” Professor Williams continues his lecture in a classroom with those who would rather be doing anything else than be here.

My new friend, Derek, is doodling beside me. Over these last few weeks, I have come to learn that Derek is a kind person who is very smart and quite artistic. The way he scrawls effortlessly… more than half the time I find myself enthralled by watching him draw cartoon characters, werewolves, a crying woman – the list goes on. Today, he’s captured me with a dark forest full of shadows and mystery left behind from the led of his pencil. The trees remind me of evil hands trying to grab the moon, to take away the only light that there is in the dark of night.

Like Mike’s painting with the swan trying to fly towards the moon from the depths of despair. Where did Mike go when he died? Is he suffering? Is he safe? Did he make it to the light?

For what is light without darkness, he told me.

“Psst. Girl, are you okay,” a whispering voice yanks me from my troubling thoughts.

Looking over to my left, I see Libby – my classmate and friend. Those dark brown eyes show worry.

I nod as a response and pull my focus back to our teacher as he tries to explain once again what he is looking for with our upcoming assignment.

***********

“Are you sure, you’re okay?” Libby asks as we take our coffees to the nearest table in the café of the school.

I take a seat and a sip of my hot mocha latte before answering her. “Oh yeah, I’m alright. I promise.”

The chocolaty coffee burns the roof of my mouth, so involuntary flinching occurs, but I try to compose myself quickly.

Libby doesn’t believe me. “Are you sure? Because it was like you went into another dimension in class today. Your face went pale, and your breathing changed. It was like…” Her pink lips form a straight line as she tries to find the right words. “Like someone just came back from the dead or something.”

Glancing out of the café onto the sidewalk, I notice that some of the leaves have begun to change. Autumn in northern Georgia is beautiful; the leaves turn color and may fall on the ground, but the grass remains green all fall and winter. The temperature outside has dropped some, but a coat is still not needed.

I’m willing to bet that Rachel needs a coat right about now…

“Elena?” Libby cracks through my observations.

With rosy cheeks, I take a tentative sip of my latte and apologize. “I’m sorry, Libs. My mind seems to just be all over the place lately.”

“Are you ever going to tell me what happened in class today? I’m worried about you.” I’m sure I can trust Libby. She hasn’t given me any reason not to trust her, but I haven’t told a single soul outside of Ludowici about what I’ve been through. The looks of pity around that town are more than enough for me. I don’t need those sad expressions to follow me here.

So, with a smile, I touch her hand, which rests on the table. “I promise you. I’m okay. Just a little homesick.”

Homesick. Yeah, that should be believable…

“Okay. If you say so.” With a pause in the air, she takes another sip of her steaming chai latte then says, “So, what do you think about Derek? He’s pretty cute, right?”

Oh, the last thing I need is a boy.

But I don’t say that; I swallow the mocha hotness and let it burn down my throat. “Yeah. He’s kind of cute. He seems nice.”

Her eyes light up like the fourth of July on steroids. “You should go out with him!”

“No, Libs.”

“Why not? Just one date!”

I give her the side eye.

“Hey, you’ve been wallowing around and hugging that darn leather jacket all the time. I think you should have a boyfriend.”

Rubbing my forehead with the warm hand that was wrapped around the latte, I think of an excuse. “Libby. I’m not ready.” It’s not necessarily an excuse…I’m just not sure if my heart is prepared for someone else right now.

Libby-Libs. I like her – I do – but she is a little boy crazy and thinks that we share that same interest. She has a heart of gold; however, she loves to play matchmaker.

“I think you are. I know your boyfriend died from cancer and all, but… I just really don’t want you to waste your days away, you know?”

Yeah, I lied. She was getting suspicious as to why I was constantly holding Mike’s jacket late at night when we’d watch movies in my dorm room. I had to come up with something and I wasn’t going to tell her the truth.

Too many questions. Too much pity.

“He seems to really like you,” she irks.

With a sigh, I blatantly tell her, “He’s very nice, but Libby, I don’t need a man.”

She shakes her head and points out the honest gut-wrenching fact that nearly every woman knows is true in the depths of their heart. “No… but you want one.”