I shook my head, telling myself I hadn’t really wanted to see anybody else anyhow, and turned around to start the walk home. After a couple minutes, I thought to pull out my cell and call mom. She didn’t answer – probably in a meeting or something – so I left her a message, telling her I didn’t need her to pick me up at the studio.
I thought that I was walking slowly, just trying to clear my head, but even so I managed to beat my mom home. I went straight to my room, closed the door – quietly, this time – and over to my desk. I stopped there long enough to question what the heck I was expecting. Did I really think the book actually had all the answers, or -any- answers, for that matter? It was just a book, that, by some weird coincidence, had a few similarities to my life. That was it.
But, of course, if that was the case, then there would be no harm in looking at it, now would there? Surely after the first few pages I’d realize that those coincidences were just that, when that Skye and Lela went off and had some kind of strange, magical adventure together.
I’m not sure if I was expecting the book to have vanished or something, but I felt a sigh of relief escape my lungs when I opened the drawer and found it still there. I started by just opening to the first page again, making sure that it was still the same, then I started to flip through it.
I stopped a little ways in, a certain paragraph catching my eye. “She stormed out of the house, slamming the door on her way. The sound scared her, so, in her mind, she blamed it on the wind, assuring herself that she wasn’t -that- touchy about having her fears confirmed. It became much more difficult for her to believe that, however, when she found herself still angry enough by the time her ballet class had started to start taking it out on her students. All of whom, most likely, Lela would rather spend her time with, since their parents -would- – and in most cases, did – compensate her for paying attention to them.”
I very nearly closed the book then, and I considered following that up with setting it on fire, though I didn’t actually go through with either. How could this be possible?
Still, I had pretty much been hoping for something like that, something to tell me that there was more to the book than just featuring characters that were similar to me and Lela. But now that I had that confirmation, I had a new question. Had I gone too far, or not far enough? What question was I really looking for the answer to?
Finally, I decided to go back a few pages. I had intended to go a little further, but Keith’s name came up quicker than I’d expected.
“’Listen, guys,” Keith said from the shadow of the doorway, not even daring to go inside, ‘I don’t think I can do this.’
‘What the hell are you talking about, man?’ Martin asked. ‘You already did it. She was holding us back and you know it, man.’”
I stopped there, staring down at the words in shock. Was that what they really thought? -I- was holding -them- back? Please… My singing was no worse than Martin’s drum playing. Maybe I wasn’t perfect, but did they seriously think they could find someone better in this town?
“‘Yeah, I know,’ Keith agreed with half of a shrug, though his shoulders didn’t quite find their way back down. ‘But I can’t be around all this, not now. It reminds me too much of her.’”
My heart stopped there, along with my eyes, while my brain did its best to censor out the first part of his response so it could focus on the end. He missed me!