Secrets, Lies and Dragonflies

Chapter 44

On the front porch, Spencer fidgets with the pile of freshly sharpened pencils I put in a mug to reduce the number of excuses that keep popping up every five minutes. Hoping it influences him to sit still and focus on his vocabulary worksheet, I pretend to concentrate on the contents of my spiral writing pad. It's full of random thoughts, quotes I liked, short essays, drawings of places I wanted to visit. I find the piece I was working on earlier and add a few more frames.

Who? Me?

she stepped out onto the drive

a familiar place, but a different time

Changed and unsure of how to be

A hopeless face searches hers for a remedy

The pain, the hurt, the mystery

Why must we suffer all these miseries/tragedies

A hand to hold when there's nobody

Where's the love that he/they/we desperately need

Not sure what to make of it. Looks like it might be another poem? Nope. Just a bunch of gibberish, like my other scribblings.

She's been gone for over an hour. I gather my things to bring inside so I can start on dinner when I hear the sounds of her van crunching the gravel around the back. My heart races in anticipation of the probing questions Aunt Amy is sure to have of me.

Multiple car doors slam shut. "Hey Chica? Hope you're not leaving on my account?" bearing a grin, Christina Phillips bounces up the walkway with a companion and an armful of books.

"I don't know. Depends on what you're carrying," I say, opening the screen door, relieved the inevitable inquisition has been momentarily postponed.

"You're out of bed! And made it all the way out onto the porch! Good for you!" She briefly examines me and narrows her eyes. "Still looks like you've gone a few rounds with Mike Tyson, but much better than before."

I let out a small laugh and say, "Yeah, thanks. I think?"

"I hope you don't mind me stopping by unannounced—again. I'm really not stalking you. I promise," she teases.

I clear a spot on the table so she and her helper can set the textbooks down. "I've never had a stalker before. And now I really feel for their victims," I say, staring pathetically at the stack.

"I know. I'm sorry. I made the mistake of telling Mrs. Jordan I was thinking about stopping by when she asked if I could drop off your school work. She said your guidance counselor was getting frantic emails from Mr. Wallace." Her face contorts with displeasure. "Had him so I feel your pain."

"Thank you. I really do appreciate you bringing these by. My aunt has been trying, but it's hard for her between taking care of me and running the cafe and all."

"Well, you may want to take back that thank you." she says, slapping the top of the pile. "If Mr. Wallace is anything like he was when I took him, this might hurt more than that broke arm of yours."

"Great. Math is just not my thing," I say, shaking my head.

"Wish I could help, but me and geometry had a bad break up and we both agreed to never see each other again," Christina replies.

"Oh Chrissy, you're so dramatic," says her helper.

Looping her arm through the girl's, Christina lifts her head high. "Oh, you noticed! Papi says drama is my middle name." She tosses her curls to the side. "By the way, Mackenzie, this is my cousin, Courtnee, the party pooper, Miller. She'll be joining in on all the Landry High fun next year."