A/N Hello everyone! Here's chapter four, I hope you enjoy it, and please leave a comment/critique! :)
"One second" Papa slams the receiver down, and stares intensely at me. Reflexes make my hands shoot up into the air. "Where have you been all day?"
"I helped Mr. Koppinger clean out his house. I'm so sorry!" I run towards my father, who is jamming the hold button on the phone with his thumb.
"I told you not to make me worry again" He pouts as I wrap my arms around his stomach. My forehead barely reaches Papa's shoulders even if I stand on my toes. Pa lets go of the button and reattaches the receiver to his ear. "Sorry about that, Leon." is followed by an "Of course, we'd love to" as a smile creeps across his wrinkled face.
"What did he have to say?" I question once he finally hangs up.
"We're going to go out to dinner with the Koppingers soon! By the way, what's his grandson like?" He nags, and a groan escapes me.
"Um... Honestly, he needs work" I adjust a strap on my overalls. My eyes trail to Papa, who is clutching his center and laughing.
"I thought so. Now, go get dressed in something nicer" He wags his finger as I drag my feet over to my bedroom. "Want to look sophisticated for our trip to the fancy restaurant" I shut the door and tug on khakis and a t-shirt, knowing that the fanciest eatery around is a trucker stop. I brush the tangles out of my unruly hair and give the mirror a little satisfied nod before I walk out the door. Papa ushers me down the porch steps to Mr. Koppinger's idle hummer, and we jump into the back seats. The car smells of bubblegum and spearmint. By car, it usually takes a little less than an hour to reach the restaurant, but with Leon's powerful vehicle the ride whizzes by in much less time. There is not much talking between the four of us, except for the occasional directions given by Papa.
There are few restaurants in Wrenside. The four of us pull up to a familiar greasy spoon and tumble out of Leon's car. The building in front of us has siding peeling off of the outer walls, and the structure leans slightly towards the left. A typical trucker's stop.
Ty stares at the ancient diner and shudders. I hear a murmur emit from him, "What a dump! There's better garbage cans in Salt Lake City" He flips open his cell phone and taps away on the keyboard while walking through the door. The interior of the restaurant is stuffed full of sweaty truck drivers. We seat ourselves at the only empty table and an elderly waitress hobbles over to welcome us. The stand up comedian at the front of the room was telling horrible jokes, but there are a few people who roar with laughter. We order our food and sip on sodas while we wait. The comedian says something that seems important, and I turn to catch the rest of his sentence.
"Two lovers sitting over there, so cute" The greasy-looking truck drivers turn towards our table, and I can hear Pa and Leon laughing behind me. Ty's face is red with anger. "Why don't you come up here?" The crowd roars and I realize that the dull entertainer is talking about Tyler and I. The boy's hands clench at his sides, and he screams at the comedian.
"We're NOT lovers! We'll never be! Look at her" I look down at my shaking hands and stick them under my legs to make them stop. The whole room is quiet. Ty looks even more embarrassed when he sits back down, obviously ashamed that he yelled like that. The customer's attention is back on their food, and the entertainer is back to making bad jokes.
"Well, it's true" Ty says, wanting to confirm the fact that he hates me. My eyes suddenly well up with uncontrollable tears, and I rush out of the door and into the scape of woods behind the restaurant. Paths wind and bend around each other and the knots created by tree roots are hazards as I dash through the thick wood. I reach a climbable tree, and scale it with ease. I sit a few feet from the ground, and let myself cry. The tears roll down my freckled cheeks, little drops of worry landing on my shirt. I crouch on the sturdy branch like that for awhile, until I hear footsteps approaching.
"Birdie? Little bird?" Papa and Leon appear in the distance, with what I can see is a moping Tyler trailing behind them. "We have your food here... I'll just put it down" my father places a foil-wrapped hamburger and a box of fries down on a tree stump. When they start to leave, I hop down from my perch and unwrap the burger, chowing down on it hungrily, and do not notice the boy sulking back towards me.
"Uh, I'm sorry, I guess" I look up, meat crumbling from between my lips. Ty stands before me. "I was being... uh, mean"
"No problem" I manage to say without spitting out any more of my dinner, or thinking, it seems.
"Good. By the way, Kessy, Grandpa wanted me to ask you to go to the beach tomorrow... so yeah" I stare at him in disbelief, and swallow a giant bite of burger.
"I can't BELIEVE you! Why would you be so rude to me? No, I don't forgive you. How can you say anything like that?" I throw my meal on the ground, causing sauce to spray up everywhere. "I didn't think it was this possible for someone to be so rude!" My words hit him like a wildfire and Ty puffs out his chest. "Well, aren't you one to talk" He replies snarkily.
I stand up as straight as I can, trying to match his height. He just laughs and sneers down at me.
"You are the most disgusting person I have ever met." I spit in his face.
"You're the most disgusting person I have ever met." He imitates in a high pitched mocking tone. It takes all of my strength not to punch him in the stomach.
"You're immature." I jab my chin high into the air and place my hands on my hips.
"And you're annoying." he jeers, neither of us willing to break eye contact. "And you're so weird!"
His words sting more than he could have ever imagined. The ground swerves and my knees give out. I can't stop the memories of the tears and bruises, the solitude and the unshakeable feeling of worthlessness, never being accepted, all because I was "weird."
"Isn't Kestrel weird?" they would ask each other as I walked by. "She just so stupid and weird!"
Sometimes I would call out to them, "Why? Why am I so weird?" and they would just pretend as though the words had never even left my mouth. Then it got worse. Papa would ask about the scrapes and swelling, and I would lie and tell him I fell.
"My clumsy little Bird!" he would ruffle my hair and hold me on his lap while I would silently cry into his shoulder.
I think that Izzy knew, but he didn't know how bad it was until that dreadful night on the dock when they tangled me in the net and dipped me in the ocean for the minute and a half that lasted an eternity.
Pa pulled me out of school the next morning. When the children were confronted, my father told me of how they begged and pleaded, insisting that "it was just a game". There was no punishment.
Papa fumed for weeks. He was considering getting a lawyer, but everyone knows that there are no lawyers in Wrenside. There was nothing that we could do.
"Hey..." Ty kneels beside me. "Are you okay?"
I shake my head and push him away.
"Ke- Birdie?" he pushes himself from the forest floor and peers down at me. "Where I come from, weird isn't much of an insult but I've never been to Wrenside before so-"
"Go away." I mumble. Tyler still hovers above me, looking around the forest as though he's trying to find someone to help.
"Go away!" I repeat, much more forceful this time. Ty backs away.
"I'm sorry Birdie." he says softly. "I'm sorry..."
I tilt my head up to look up at the blonde boy apologizing. Despite my anger and annoyance, not to mention the rawness from the unexpected flashback, I reach up and take his hand. He pulls me to my feet and leads me back through the twisting forest towards the restaurant. When we near the door, I stop abruptly and stare him straight in the face.
"I still don't like you." I growl, then turn on my heel and leave him standing by himself outside the unsightly establishment.
"Where's Tyler?" Leon asks as I sit down at the table again.
"He's coming." I frown, grabbing a handful of fries from Papa's plate. Sure enough, seconds later, Ty is seated beside me, chewing obnoxiously on his burger. I avoid any eye contact with him.
"Well, should we get going?" Leon asks, gathering his things from the tablecloth and carries our check over to the desk. While he pays, Papa, Ty and I head outside to warm up the car's engine. I haul myself into the passenger's seat and await Mr.Koppinger.
"Move it" Ty snarls greedily. "Please"
"I'd rather sit here, thank you very much"
"Hey, Hey, I'm going to sit in the front seat!" Pa rounds the corner, and shoves me out of the vehicle goofily. "You two can sit in the back" Ty admits defeat and the two of us pile into the squished seats, but he shuffles as far away as possible from me. As Leon climbs into the driver's seat, my father strikes up a conversation.
"We'll have to deal with your boat tomorrow." he says to Mr.Koppinger, who steers the car out of the parking lot and down the bumpy road.
I lean forwards and stick my face in between their seats.
"How are you going to do that?" I ask curiously. Ty sighs loudly.
"What?" I snap at him. "I want to know."
Tyler just shrugs and stares out his window at the trees flashing by.
"We'll have to get some help." Papa twists in his seat to face me, grinning.
"Oh." I sit back in my seat and roll down my window. At the car's high speed, the wind smacks me in the face and sends my hair whipping in every which direction.
"Roll up the window!" Ty snarls, glaring at me.
"Tyler!" Leon scolds, flicking on the radio to a classical station, one of the only signals we can pick up in Wrenside. "Birdie can keep her window open if she wants to."
I smirk at Ty and he just scowls in return. After about five minutes, I'm freezing and wrap my arms tightly around me.
Ty notices the goosebumps dotting my arms and sneers.
"Why don't you roll up the window?" he asks, and I shoot him the meanest look I can manage.
"I'm fine." I reply through my clenched teeth.
"My goodness, they fight like brother and sister!" Mr.Koppinger tries to whisper to Papa, but his whispers are more like talking in a raspy voice, so both Ty and I hear him perfectly.
"Imagine living with someone like you." I hiss and Ty just smiles.
"Imagine living with someone like you." He retorts. "That would be h-"
"That's enough you two." Pa says sternly, turning and tapping my leg. Both of us are silent all the ride home.
When we get home, I say a curt goodbye to Leon and climb out without a word to Tyler.
I grab grandpappy's sketchbook the second I get in my room, needing a break. I flip through the pages of . My father appears in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
"Hi, Papa." I don't even look up.
"Birdie, tonight wasn't good." he says calmly. "I expected you to be more mature."
"But Pa-"
"No buts, Birdie." My father interrupts, waving a hand in the air as if to erase any excuses. "That boy was out of line, but you could've handled it so much better."
I stare up at Papa, the stress from the hard work at the marina etched into his freckled face. My throat is feeling tight, so all I can do is nod. Pa seems satisfied and leaves me be. I look down at the blank sheet of paper in front of me, and decide that it's okay to draw in my grandfather's book. For about an hour, charcoal scratches against bumpy paper and I smile at my accomplishment.
"Pretty good"
I study the drawing for a while, however each second that I stare at it, it turns uglier and uglier until it is nothing but a horrible blob scribbled on the yellowed page. Each little mistake that I find makes me want to cry.
"No." I whisper, tearing the sheet from the book. "It's all wrong!" I smash the paper between my hands into a crumpled ball that fits in my fist. I toss it across the room and it rolls under the dresser. I bury my face in my pillow and try not to cry, but I can't help but let out a few muffled sobs. I get up from my bed, my eyes puffy and red, and drag myself to the kitchen. I open the fridge, then close it after not finding anything I wanted to eat. I grab a box of cookies from the counter and sit down the couch. I flip aimlessly through the channels, but nothing particularly catches my eye as interesting.
After about two hours of surfing through different shows, I drift off, the cookies resting on my stomach, remote in hand.
I wake up to someone shaking my shoulder gently. My eyes open to the dark living room and Papa standing above me, pulling on his jacket.
"Birdie, get up." He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. "It was called that the storm will be arriving earlier than expected. We have to get Leon's yacht out as soon as possible."
The cookies all spill onto the carpet and I scoop them up and dump them roughly on the coffee table.
"I'll just get dressed." I say, trudging to my room, bumping into the side table in the dark.
Pa and I take the short walk back over to the Marina, and I scan the sky for signs of approaching storm clouds. Dark grey clouds roll, but the hurricane doesn't look like it's hit yet. Behind the fog I can see Leon rushing in and out of his ship hauling out the odds and ends he had stored in there. The first raindrop splashes right into my eye and I jolt into action. My first order of business is to gather up my friend's things and stuff them into plastic bags while he and Papa maneuver the yacht onto a monstrous trailer. I then tug my hood over my head of soaked hair and drag the sacks over to the shed, a building by our house that is much more stable and trustworthy during a storm. Pa and I are carrying matresses and food rations into the small shed's cellar when Leon calls out to us.
"Come on, the sky's beginning to look stormier" He yells from his truck. I throw the foamy matresses down past the opened hatch and lay down the bags of food. Afterwards, we slam the door closed, lock it and climb into the back of Mr.Koppinger's truck. He speeds off down the road bumpy road. Despite the windshield wipers flying as fast as they can, the street ahead of us is still blurred from the rain pounding the vehicle.
"Well, that came fast." Papa remarks, peering out his window at the dark clouds moving in quickly from the south. "How about we drop you, Birdie, off at home to grab the rest of our things while Leon and I go and put the boat away and pick up Ty? We'll meet you back in the shed."
"Okay." I reply as we pull up beside my house. The wind is already strong enough to bend the trees and send debris flying past me as I dash up the steps and into the rickety building. I grab grandpappy's sketchbook from beside my bed and stuff a couple of dry pairs of socks for Pa in my pockets. I scan the room for anything to bring and decide to throw a deck of cards and some ancient novel from the nearly empty bookshelf into a plastic bag. It was definitely going to be boring trapped in that little cellar for who-knows-how-long. I shove the sketchbook under my sweater to keep it dry and pull on my hood once again before sprinting outside and through the cold to the shed. I slam the door behind me and sit in the dark shed. I brush away some spiderwebs tickling my face and pile the stuff that I had brought onto the floor. It had been quite a while since I had last been in here.
I sit down and pull out my sketchbook, but before I can start to draw, I hear something above the howling wind outside. Definitely a girl, but she didn't sound distressed. It sounded more like a laugh. I throw open the door and see two figures walking out in the rain.
"Hey!" I call, waving to them. "You should really get to a shelter!" They either can't hear me or choose to ignore me. I pull on my hood once again and run after them. I freeze as I get close.
"Oh hey, Kestrel." the girl sneers. My heart starts to hammer in my chest.
"Hi, Claire." I whisper and she puts her hands on her hips. "You really should get inside. The storm is getting worse."
"Hey, Kessy, why don't you just go away already?" the boy says and I squint.
"Ty?" I ask and he just smirks. "Ty, go home and get your stuff. Papa and Leon are probably looking for you."
"Uh, no." Ty rolls his eyes, rain rolling down his head and dripping from the ends of his hair.
"Go back and draw some more stupid pictures, Kestrel." Claire snaps, grabbing Ty by the elbow and starting to walk away.
I stare after them for a moment. Ty twists from her grasp to turn back to look at me. I start to chase them again.
"Tyler, really!" I beg. "This is dangerous! Go home!"
The boy snorts. "Home is Salt Lake City, and if I could go home, trust me, I'd be there in a heartbeat."
Claire nods. "Wrenside is probably the most boring town in the world."
I ignore Claire and grab Ty's shirt. "Come on, Ty."
"Whoa," Claire steps in, pushing me away. "Back off."
"Shut up." I growl, glaring at her.
"Ooh, Kestrel, still as angry and weird as she was when she was a child." Claire spits. Ty backs up and stands there watching us. I look to him for help but he avoids my gaze.
The wind whips my wet hair into my face. "Please don't say that."
Claire laughs. "Why not? You know that it's true. I mean, come on, you know why you don't have any friends, rights?"
I shake my head and stare down at my soaked shoes.
"It's because you're you, Kestrel." she jabs a finger into my stomach. "You're stupid, you're weird, you're ugly. Even your mother didn't want you."
I feel a hot tear roll down my cheek. Ty is completely silent.
"Do you hear me, Kestrel?" Claire demands and I nod.
"I can't hear you." she puts a hand to her ear.
"Yes." I choke out.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I hear you. I'm weird and stupid and nobody likes me."
Claire smiles maliciously and shoves me hard enough to knock me onto the wet and muddy grass.
"Now come on, Ty." She starts to walk away, but Tyler doesn't move.
"Actually, I should probably go home... I forgot about... something." he replies and she shrugs and disappears down the path into the trees.
I bury my face in my hands and sob as Ty comes up to me and pulls me to my feet. He doesn't say a word as he leads me back to the shed. I close my eyes as he pulls me by the arm through the door and sits me down in the corner. He pulls a blanket from the pile stacked against the wall and wraps one tightly around me.
"Stay here, idiot." he says harshly. "I'm going to go get my stuff before the storm gets worse. Don't get in anymore fights."
I scowl at him and he chuckles.
"Wow, this is going to be fun staying here with you, isn't it?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Trust me, you're just as great of company." I say through clenched teeth. He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and disappears outside into the growing storm. I crawl over and grab my sketchbook from where it lays, flipping through the pages. One drawing makes me stop. It's a little girl with waves in her hair clutching a pocketwatch. The date scribbled in the corner tells me that it was the last drawing he drew before he died. I start to panic at the realization that I had left the watch in the treehouse.
I get up and race outside and into the woods. I sprint down the familiar, twisting path to the old fort and scramble up the ladder. Halfway up, a sneeze from inside makes me stop. Peeking up, I spot Claire digging through my stuff. She scoops up some magazines and casually tosses them out the window to the soggy ground. The wind rattles the small house and I quickly jump to the ground as the wooden building shakes violently. I spread the magazines out, searching for the watch, but it isn't there. I dive behind a tree as the rope ladder creaks and Claire descends. She walks off down the path away from the docks, but before I can get into the treehouse, a gust of wind with great force sends the tree waving, branches breaking off and scattering in every direction. The fort lets out a groan before the tree crashes to the ground and shatters the old wooden planks that made up my treehouse.
I gape at it for a second before some tiny hail plummets from the clouds and I run back to the shed. The pellets pound against the roof as I try not to cry.
"It's going to be okay." I reassure myself. "We'll find it as soon as the storm ends." I huddle back into the blanket from earlier and rub my toes to thaw them out.
A/N Okay.... where do we begin...
Sorry this chapter is out late, and that it's a few hundred words short! I (What) accidentally forgot about our chapter-by-chapter plan, wrote the rest of this chap, looked through the plan, deleted half of the story.
Nuggets.
But whatever, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and leave a comment!
OOOOOooooooooooo next chapter should be awesome!
-Fedora and What, signing out :)
"One second" Papa slams the receiver down, and stares intensely at me. Reflexes make my hands shoot up into the air. "Where have you been all day?"
"I helped Mr. Koppinger clean out his house. I'm so sorry!" I run towards my father, who is jamming the hold button on the phone with his thumb.
"I told you not to make me worry again" He pouts as I wrap my arms around his stomach. My forehead barely reaches Papa's shoulders even if I stand on my toes. Pa lets go of the button and reattaches the receiver to his ear. "Sorry about that, Leon." is followed by an "Of course, we'd love to" as a smile creeps across his wrinkled face.
"What did he have to say?" I question once he finally hangs up.
"We're going to go out to dinner with the Koppingers soon! By the way, what's his grandson like?" He nags, and a groan escapes me.
"Um... Honestly, he needs work" I adjust a strap on my overalls. My eyes trail to Papa, who is clutching his center and laughing.
"I thought so. Now, go get dressed in something nicer" He wags his finger as I drag my feet over to my bedroom. "Want to look sophisticated for our trip to the fancy restaurant" I shut the door and tug on khakis and a t-shirt, knowing that the fanciest eatery around is a trucker stop. I brush the tangles out of my unruly hair and give the mirror a little satisfied nod before I walk out the door. Papa ushers me down the porch steps to Mr. Koppinger's idle hummer, and we jump into the back seats. The car smells of bubblegum and spearmint. By car, it usually takes a little less than an hour to reach the restaurant, but with Leon's powerful vehicle the ride whizzes by in much less time. There is not much talking between the four of us, except for the occasional directions given by Papa.
There are few restaurants in Wrenside. The four of us pull up to a familiar greasy spoon and tumble out of Leon's car. The building in front of us has siding peeling off of the outer walls, and the structure leans slightly towards the left. A typical trucker's stop.
Ty stares at the ancient diner and shudders. I hear a murmur emit from him, "What a dump! There's better garbage cans in Salt Lake City" He flips open his cell phone and taps away on the keyboard while walking through the door. The interior of the restaurant is stuffed full of sweaty truck drivers. We seat ourselves at the only empty table and an elderly waitress hobbles over to welcome us. The stand up comedian at the front of the room was telling horrible jokes, but there are a few people who roar with laughter. We order our food and sip on sodas while we wait. The comedian says something that seems important, and I turn to catch the rest of his sentence.
"Two lovers sitting over there, so cute" The greasy-looking truck drivers turn towards our table, and I can hear Pa and Leon laughing behind me. Ty's face is red with anger. "Why don't you come up here?" The crowd roars and I realize that the dull entertainer is talking about Tyler and I. The boy's hands clench at his sides, and he screams at the comedian.
"We're NOT lovers! We'll never be! Look at her" I look down at my shaking hands and stick them under my legs to make them stop. The whole room is quiet. Ty looks even more embarrassed when he sits back down, obviously ashamed that he yelled like that. The customer's attention is back on their food, and the entertainer is back to making bad jokes.
"Well, it's true" Ty says, wanting to confirm the fact that he hates me. My eyes suddenly well up with uncontrollable tears, and I rush out of the door and into the scape of woods behind the restaurant. Paths wind and bend around each other and the knots created by tree roots are hazards as I dash through the thick wood. I reach a climbable tree, and scale it with ease. I sit a few feet from the ground, and let myself cry. The tears roll down my freckled cheeks, little drops of worry landing on my shirt. I crouch on the sturdy branch like that for awhile, until I hear footsteps approaching.
"Birdie? Little bird?" Papa and Leon appear in the distance, with what I can see is a moping Tyler trailing behind them. "We have your food here... I'll just put it down" my father places a foil-wrapped hamburger and a box of fries down on a tree stump. When they start to leave, I hop down from my perch and unwrap the burger, chowing down on it hungrily, and do not notice the boy sulking back towards me.
"Uh, I'm sorry, I guess" I look up, meat crumbling from between my lips. Ty stands before me. "I was being... uh, mean"
"No problem" I manage to say without spitting out any more of my dinner, or thinking, it seems.
"Good. By the way, Kessy, Grandpa wanted me to ask you to go to the beach tomorrow... so yeah" I stare at him in disbelief, and swallow a giant bite of burger.
"I can't BELIEVE you! Why would you be so rude to me? No, I don't forgive you. How can you say anything like that?" I throw my meal on the ground, causing sauce to spray up everywhere. "I didn't think it was this possible for someone to be so rude!" My words hit him like a wildfire and Ty puffs out his chest. "Well, aren't you one to talk" He replies snarkily.
I stand up as straight as I can, trying to match his height. He just laughs and sneers down at me.
"You are the most disgusting person I have ever met." I spit in his face.
"You're the most disgusting person I have ever met." He imitates in a high pitched mocking tone. It takes all of my strength not to punch him in the stomach.
"You're immature." I jab my chin high into the air and place my hands on my hips.
"And you're annoying." he jeers, neither of us willing to break eye contact. "And you're so weird!"
His words sting more than he could have ever imagined. The ground swerves and my knees give out. I can't stop the memories of the tears and bruises, the solitude and the unshakeable feeling of worthlessness, never being accepted, all because I was "weird."
"Isn't Kestrel weird?" they would ask each other as I walked by. "She just so stupid and weird!"
Sometimes I would call out to them, "Why? Why am I so weird?" and they would just pretend as though the words had never even left my mouth. Then it got worse. Papa would ask about the scrapes and swelling, and I would lie and tell him I fell.
"My clumsy little Bird!" he would ruffle my hair and hold me on his lap while I would silently cry into his shoulder.
I think that Izzy knew, but he didn't know how bad it was until that dreadful night on the dock when they tangled me in the net and dipped me in the ocean for the minute and a half that lasted an eternity.
Pa pulled me out of school the next morning. When the children were confronted, my father told me of how they begged and pleaded, insisting that "it was just a game". There was no punishment.
Papa fumed for weeks. He was considering getting a lawyer, but everyone knows that there are no lawyers in Wrenside. There was nothing that we could do.
"Hey..." Ty kneels beside me. "Are you okay?"
I shake my head and push him away.
"Ke- Birdie?" he pushes himself from the forest floor and peers down at me. "Where I come from, weird isn't much of an insult but I've never been to Wrenside before so-"
"Go away." I mumble. Tyler still hovers above me, looking around the forest as though he's trying to find someone to help.
"Go away!" I repeat, much more forceful this time. Ty backs away.
"I'm sorry Birdie." he says softly. "I'm sorry..."
I tilt my head up to look up at the blonde boy apologizing. Despite my anger and annoyance, not to mention the rawness from the unexpected flashback, I reach up and take his hand. He pulls me to my feet and leads me back through the twisting forest towards the restaurant. When we near the door, I stop abruptly and stare him straight in the face.
"I still don't like you." I growl, then turn on my heel and leave him standing by himself outside the unsightly establishment.
"Where's Tyler?" Leon asks as I sit down at the table again.
"He's coming." I frown, grabbing a handful of fries from Papa's plate. Sure enough, seconds later, Ty is seated beside me, chewing obnoxiously on his burger. I avoid any eye contact with him.
"Well, should we get going?" Leon asks, gathering his things from the tablecloth and carries our check over to the desk. While he pays, Papa, Ty and I head outside to warm up the car's engine. I haul myself into the passenger's seat and await Mr.Koppinger.
"Move it" Ty snarls greedily. "Please"
"I'd rather sit here, thank you very much"
"Hey, Hey, I'm going to sit in the front seat!" Pa rounds the corner, and shoves me out of the vehicle goofily. "You two can sit in the back" Ty admits defeat and the two of us pile into the squished seats, but he shuffles as far away as possible from me. As Leon climbs into the driver's seat, my father strikes up a conversation.
"We'll have to deal with your boat tomorrow." he says to Mr.Koppinger, who steers the car out of the parking lot and down the bumpy road.
I lean forwards and stick my face in between their seats.
"How are you going to do that?" I ask curiously. Ty sighs loudly.
"What?" I snap at him. "I want to know."
Tyler just shrugs and stares out his window at the trees flashing by.
"We'll have to get some help." Papa twists in his seat to face me, grinning.
"Oh." I sit back in my seat and roll down my window. At the car's high speed, the wind smacks me in the face and sends my hair whipping in every which direction.
"Roll up the window!" Ty snarls, glaring at me.
"Tyler!" Leon scolds, flicking on the radio to a classical station, one of the only signals we can pick up in Wrenside. "Birdie can keep her window open if she wants to."
I smirk at Ty and he just scowls in return. After about five minutes, I'm freezing and wrap my arms tightly around me.
Ty notices the goosebumps dotting my arms and sneers.
"Why don't you roll up the window?" he asks, and I shoot him the meanest look I can manage.
"I'm fine." I reply through my clenched teeth.
"My goodness, they fight like brother and sister!" Mr.Koppinger tries to whisper to Papa, but his whispers are more like talking in a raspy voice, so both Ty and I hear him perfectly.
"Imagine living with someone like you." I hiss and Ty just smiles.
"Imagine living with someone like you." He retorts. "That would be h-"
"That's enough you two." Pa says sternly, turning and tapping my leg. Both of us are silent all the ride home.
When we get home, I say a curt goodbye to Leon and climb out without a word to Tyler.
I grab grandpappy's sketchbook the second I get in my room, needing a break. I flip through the pages of . My father appears in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.
"Hi, Papa." I don't even look up.
"Birdie, tonight wasn't good." he says calmly. "I expected you to be more mature."
"But Pa-"
"No buts, Birdie." My father interrupts, waving a hand in the air as if to erase any excuses. "That boy was out of line, but you could've handled it so much better."
I stare up at Papa, the stress from the hard work at the marina etched into his freckled face. My throat is feeling tight, so all I can do is nod. Pa seems satisfied and leaves me be. I look down at the blank sheet of paper in front of me, and decide that it's okay to draw in my grandfather's book. For about an hour, charcoal scratches against bumpy paper and I smile at my accomplishment.
"Pretty good"
I study the drawing for a while, however each second that I stare at it, it turns uglier and uglier until it is nothing but a horrible blob scribbled on the yellowed page. Each little mistake that I find makes me want to cry.
"No." I whisper, tearing the sheet from the book. "It's all wrong!" I smash the paper between my hands into a crumpled ball that fits in my fist. I toss it across the room and it rolls under the dresser. I bury my face in my pillow and try not to cry, but I can't help but let out a few muffled sobs. I get up from my bed, my eyes puffy and red, and drag myself to the kitchen. I open the fridge, then close it after not finding anything I wanted to eat. I grab a box of cookies from the counter and sit down the couch. I flip aimlessly through the channels, but nothing particularly catches my eye as interesting.
After about two hours of surfing through different shows, I drift off, the cookies resting on my stomach, remote in hand.
I wake up to someone shaking my shoulder gently. My eyes open to the dark living room and Papa standing above me, pulling on his jacket.
"Birdie, get up." He grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet. "It was called that the storm will be arriving earlier than expected. We have to get Leon's yacht out as soon as possible."
The cookies all spill onto the carpet and I scoop them up and dump them roughly on the coffee table.
"I'll just get dressed." I say, trudging to my room, bumping into the side table in the dark.
Pa and I take the short walk back over to the Marina, and I scan the sky for signs of approaching storm clouds. Dark grey clouds roll, but the hurricane doesn't look like it's hit yet. Behind the fog I can see Leon rushing in and out of his ship hauling out the odds and ends he had stored in there. The first raindrop splashes right into my eye and I jolt into action. My first order of business is to gather up my friend's things and stuff them into plastic bags while he and Papa maneuver the yacht onto a monstrous trailer. I then tug my hood over my head of soaked hair and drag the sacks over to the shed, a building by our house that is much more stable and trustworthy during a storm. Pa and I are carrying matresses and food rations into the small shed's cellar when Leon calls out to us.
"Come on, the sky's beginning to look stormier" He yells from his truck. I throw the foamy matresses down past the opened hatch and lay down the bags of food. Afterwards, we slam the door closed, lock it and climb into the back of Mr.Koppinger's truck. He speeds off down the road bumpy road. Despite the windshield wipers flying as fast as they can, the street ahead of us is still blurred from the rain pounding the vehicle.
"Well, that came fast." Papa remarks, peering out his window at the dark clouds moving in quickly from the south. "How about we drop you, Birdie, off at home to grab the rest of our things while Leon and I go and put the boat away and pick up Ty? We'll meet you back in the shed."
"Okay." I reply as we pull up beside my house. The wind is already strong enough to bend the trees and send debris flying past me as I dash up the steps and into the rickety building. I grab grandpappy's sketchbook from beside my bed and stuff a couple of dry pairs of socks for Pa in my pockets. I scan the room for anything to bring and decide to throw a deck of cards and some ancient novel from the nearly empty bookshelf into a plastic bag. It was definitely going to be boring trapped in that little cellar for who-knows-how-long. I shove the sketchbook under my sweater to keep it dry and pull on my hood once again before sprinting outside and through the cold to the shed. I slam the door behind me and sit in the dark shed. I brush away some spiderwebs tickling my face and pile the stuff that I had brought onto the floor. It had been quite a while since I had last been in here.
I sit down and pull out my sketchbook, but before I can start to draw, I hear something above the howling wind outside. Definitely a girl, but she didn't sound distressed. It sounded more like a laugh. I throw open the door and see two figures walking out in the rain.
"Hey!" I call, waving to them. "You should really get to a shelter!" They either can't hear me or choose to ignore me. I pull on my hood once again and run after them. I freeze as I get close.
"Oh hey, Kestrel." the girl sneers. My heart starts to hammer in my chest.
"Hi, Claire." I whisper and she puts her hands on her hips. "You really should get inside. The storm is getting worse."
"Hey, Kessy, why don't you just go away already?" the boy says and I squint.
"Ty?" I ask and he just smirks. "Ty, go home and get your stuff. Papa and Leon are probably looking for you."
"Uh, no." Ty rolls his eyes, rain rolling down his head and dripping from the ends of his hair.
"Go back and draw some more stupid pictures, Kestrel." Claire snaps, grabbing Ty by the elbow and starting to walk away.
I stare after them for a moment. Ty twists from her grasp to turn back to look at me. I start to chase them again.
"Tyler, really!" I beg. "This is dangerous! Go home!"
The boy snorts. "Home is Salt Lake City, and if I could go home, trust me, I'd be there in a heartbeat."
Claire nods. "Wrenside is probably the most boring town in the world."
I ignore Claire and grab Ty's shirt. "Come on, Ty."
"Whoa," Claire steps in, pushing me away. "Back off."
"Shut up." I growl, glaring at her.
"Ooh, Kestrel, still as angry and weird as she was when she was a child." Claire spits. Ty backs up and stands there watching us. I look to him for help but he avoids my gaze.
The wind whips my wet hair into my face. "Please don't say that."
Claire laughs. "Why not? You know that it's true. I mean, come on, you know why you don't have any friends, rights?"
I shake my head and stare down at my soaked shoes.
"It's because you're you, Kestrel." she jabs a finger into my stomach. "You're stupid, you're weird, you're ugly. Even your mother didn't want you."
I feel a hot tear roll down my cheek. Ty is completely silent.
"Do you hear me, Kestrel?" Claire demands and I nod.
"I can't hear you." she puts a hand to her ear.
"Yes." I choke out.
"Yes what?"
"Yes, I hear you. I'm weird and stupid and nobody likes me."
Claire smiles maliciously and shoves me hard enough to knock me onto the wet and muddy grass.
"Now come on, Ty." She starts to walk away, but Tyler doesn't move.
"Actually, I should probably go home... I forgot about... something." he replies and she shrugs and disappears down the path into the trees.
I bury my face in my hands and sob as Ty comes up to me and pulls me to my feet. He doesn't say a word as he leads me back to the shed. I close my eyes as he pulls me by the arm through the door and sits me down in the corner. He pulls a blanket from the pile stacked against the wall and wraps one tightly around me.
"Stay here, idiot." he says harshly. "I'm going to go get my stuff before the storm gets worse. Don't get in anymore fights."
I scowl at him and he chuckles.
"Wow, this is going to be fun staying here with you, isn't it?" he asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
"Trust me, you're just as great of company." I say through clenched teeth. He rolls his eyes up to the ceiling and disappears outside into the growing storm. I crawl over and grab my sketchbook from where it lays, flipping through the pages. One drawing makes me stop. It's a little girl with waves in her hair clutching a pocketwatch. The date scribbled in the corner tells me that it was the last drawing he drew before he died. I start to panic at the realization that I had left the watch in the treehouse.
I get up and race outside and into the woods. I sprint down the familiar, twisting path to the old fort and scramble up the ladder. Halfway up, a sneeze from inside makes me stop. Peeking up, I spot Claire digging through my stuff. She scoops up some magazines and casually tosses them out the window to the soggy ground. The wind rattles the small house and I quickly jump to the ground as the wooden building shakes violently. I spread the magazines out, searching for the watch, but it isn't there. I dive behind a tree as the rope ladder creaks and Claire descends. She walks off down the path away from the docks, but before I can get into the treehouse, a gust of wind with great force sends the tree waving, branches breaking off and scattering in every direction. The fort lets out a groan before the tree crashes to the ground and shatters the old wooden planks that made up my treehouse.
I gape at it for a second before some tiny hail plummets from the clouds and I run back to the shed. The pellets pound against the roof as I try not to cry.
"It's going to be okay." I reassure myself. "We'll find it as soon as the storm ends." I huddle back into the blanket from earlier and rub my toes to thaw them out.
A/N Okay.... where do we begin...
Sorry this chapter is out late, and that it's a few hundred words short! I (What) accidentally forgot about our chapter-by-chapter plan, wrote the rest of this chap, looked through the plan, deleted half of the story.
Nuggets.
But whatever, I hope that you all enjoyed this chapter and leave a comment!
OOOOOooooooooooo next chapter should be awesome!
-Fedora and What, signing out :)
