The Tear Collector Page 13

  “What’s he like?” Mara asks.

  I pause to reflect on his shyness and his strength, then say, “He’s like nobody else.”

  “Does he have a brother?” Lillith cracks.

  “No, just a dying grandmother,” I say. “That’s how we got together.”

  Mara takes a sip from her water bottle. I look at my watch, then sigh. Surprisingly, I’m missing Scott. He’s supposed to fall in love with me, which he has. I’m not supposed to fall in love with him, although I’m still not sure if that is what I’m feeling. How can you know what love feels like if you’ve never felt it before?

  “So what’s he like?” Lillith asks.

  “He’s almost the exact opposite of every guy I’ve ever known,” I say, then laugh. “Well, okay, like every guy, he is horny all the time, but other than that.”

  “Well it’s a good thing we’re all swimmers and know that if you want to get anywhere fast you’ve got to swim with, not against, the current,” Mara says, summing up our mutual attitudes about most boys. “So what makes Scott so special?”

  “He’s not a jock,” I say. “He’s not crazy popular. He’s just a nice guy.”

  “Is he hot then?” Lillith asks. Hottest boyfriend is another ongoing cousinly contest.

  “No, he’s just himself,” I say, proudly. “There’s something indescribable about him.”

  “That’s new for you, isn’t it?” Lillith asks.

  I laugh, then try to describe Scott anyway. I tell stories: about how I first noticed him in class, about our first date, but mostly about how different he is than most other guys I’ve been with in high school. Describing Cody used to take minutes, but if Mara and Lillith don’t shut me up, I could go on about Scott for hours and hours and hours. He is my new beautiful obsession.

  Mara finally cuts in, “Oh goodness, Cassandra, you sound just like Siobhan before...”

  With that name, talking stops. I try not to react. Of all my secrets, my calls to Siobhan are the deepest. As I feel more for Scott, I’ll call her again. I know why she left; I need to know how.

  “You can’t even consider it,” Mara says breaking the silence. “If Veronica—”

  “It’s not like that,” I say as I turn my eyes and lies away from them. Surrounded by family, all I can think about is Scott and smile. Knowing that Alexei and I will come together this weekend as arranged makes me shudder. I’ve known for years that Alexei is nothing but evil. I know from watching him for weeks that Scott is nothing but good. I am, as always, something in between.

  “Are you sure?” Lillith asks. I wonder sometimes if she wants Alexei for herself.

  “We need to get ready,” I say to end the conversation before I admit anything. They need to change out of their twenty-first-century fashions. Mara is a hostage to Hollister while Lillith’s in all black. I’ll shed my white Beatles T-shirt for the traditional costumes we use in our family rituals.

  “I don’t want to do this,” Mara confesses. I give her a sympathetic sigh, but we all know there’s no turning back from the reunion and the Good Friday Passion Play.

  “Isn’t that true of most things we all do in this family?” Lillith adds.

  “Except Alexei,” Mara says. She and Lillith share a “we know something” look.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  There’s more shared silence, until Lillith says, “There are rumors about Alexei.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, acting innocent even as I know his guilt fills a folder full of news stories locked in my desk.

  “I hear that he’s breaking the rules,” Lillith says. But she doesn’t sound disapproving in the least, for Lillith—despite everything evil about Alexei—wants him more than anyone.

  “He can do whatever he wants,” Mara says, anger filling her voice and eyes.

  “Simon,” I mutter.

  “He’s got immunity forever,” Lillith says, but my skin crawls at the thought—or is it the premonition—of Alexei’s touch. “You could be that way, Cassandra.”

  “I don’t want to be like Alexei,” I say, then add, “and I don’t want to be with him.”

  “It is your duty,” Lillith reminds me. “It is our history.”

  “You sound like Maggie,” I say. Mara smiles; I don’t. Nothing about Alexei or this weekend makes me smile. Only Scott makes me smile, and not the fake “I’m so happy to be with you” smile I wore like makeup with Cody, Tyler, and everyone before them.

  “I’m just telling you what I’ve heard,” Lillith answers. I wish I could give Alexei to her; I wish I could escape the obligation that awaits me. In my family, evil doesn’t matter; good doesn’t matter; only duty matters.

  “Must there be rumors everywhere about everybody all of the time?” I snap.

  “Relax,” Mara says.

  “I don’t know about your schools, but Lapeer High is the worst ever for rumors,” I say.

  “Without rumor, there’s no drama,” Lillith says.

  “And without drama, there are no tears,” Mara says, toasting us with her water bottle, then sneaks a peek at her silver watch. “Look, we’d better get changed; it’s almost time.”

  “I’m changing in Mom’s car,” I say. I’m an expert in backseat dressing and undressing. As they walk off, we exchange good-byes, but my mind’s weighed down channeling Siobhan, missing Scott, and dreading Alexei. I’m sure to stumble carrying such a heavy load.

  I climb in Mom’s Chevy Tahoe and find the bag with my other outfit. I check my watch and see there is a little while before visiting hours at the nursing home, so I call Scott.

  “Hey, Scott.”

  “What’s going on Cassandra?” he says, hissing my name.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask quickly.

  “You and Craig, that’s what’s wrong,” he says sharply.

  “Wait, Scott, what are you talking about!”

  “Kelsey told me that you were the one that broke up Robyn and Craig. She said the reason Brittney’s acting so cold toward you is because you’re seeing Craig. She said—”

  “I need to see you and explain,” I cut him off.

  “What about your family reunion?” he asks snidely.

  Like a dam bursting, a wave washes over me. Not of water, but images. As Scott’s pained breathing fills my ears, my mind fills with faces. Faces of family, friends, but mostly Robyn. Robyn chose death; I will choose life. Human life.

  “They’ll understand,” I lie to him. I know that they’ll never understand or forgive me, but somehow that doesn’t matter now. What matters is Scott. Every day is filled with so many meaningless minutes, but what I do now determines not just today, but the rest of my life.

  “I need to believe you,” he says.

  “Who do you believe, me or Kelsey?” I ask. “Do you trust anything she says?”

  “I want to trust you, Cass, I really do,” he says, then sighs. “I have no choice.”

  “That’s because you love me,” I say, confident in my word choice.

  He doesn’t respond, just like a typical male. He’ll say those words on his terms only.

  He answers as I would—with a question. “So none of it is true, right?”

  “Scott, you need to believe me,” I say softly. “You need to show a little faith in me.”

  “I want to, Cassandra, I want to so badly.”

  “Scott, I won’t hurt you,” I say. I flash back to saying those same words to Cody, and to others before him. “I’ve made mistakes in the past, but that’s behind me. This is a brand-new experience for me.”

  “I believe you, Cass. I believe you because I want to, and because I need to,” he says. “If I don’t have faith, then all I have is doubt. I can’t live like that.”

  “So, everything is okay between us?”

  “Yes,” he says. “Stay at your reunion. I understand the importance of family too.”

  “Thanks,” I say. I’m relieved I don’t have to act on my choice, but Siobhan was right, knowing that I coul
d choose love over duty shows me I can change both my fate and my nature. Scott and I make plans for Sunday night, then say our good-byes. We both end with “I love you.”

  I turn my phone off and lay it next to me. I open up a small bag with the costume for the reenactment and start to undress. Just as I take off my T-shirt, the door of the SUV flies open.

  “Hello, cousin,” Alexei whispers as his unearthly blue eyes stare right through me.

  “What do you want?”

  “Don’t question me,” he answers, then enters the car. I reach for my T-shirt, but he pulls it from me. I lean to grab the bag with my other clothes, but he jams his Jordans on the bag.

  “Stop it!” I shout, then try to hide my near nakedness with my shaking hands.

  “Don’t be so shy, we’re family,” Alexei says as he moves closer to me.

  I wrap my arms tighter, and try not to look at his handsome yet evil face.

  “I’ve been looking for you,” he says, almost hissing.

  “Leave me alone,” I say.

  He laughs through his smirk. “That’s not what Maggie wants. That’s not what I want.”

  “I said—”

  “And I always, always, get what I want.”

  “Then you must want to get out of the car,” I snap back.

  He’s not moving toward the door, he’s moving toward me. I glance at my watch; everybody is at the reenactment by now. He touches my bare shoulder with his left hand in a sandpaper caress. I reach for the handle behind me, but he pulls me closer to him.

  “Don’t touch me!” I push his hand away, but only because he allows it. He’s so much stronger than I am.

  He laughs again. There’s nothing I can do to him; it is all about what I can do for him. Once again, I’m expected to sacrifice, but nobody cares.

  “You can finish undressing if you want,” he says. He opens the door behind him a crack to hurl first my T-shirt, then the bag with my other clothes outside.

  Before I can repeat “Leave me alone,” my phone rings. The innocent sounds of the Beatles’ “Love Me Do” echoes in the car. I reach to grab my phone, but Alexei gets there first. He looks at the incoming call, then asks, “Who is Scott?”

  “Nobody, just another boy,” I mumble.

  “Sweet cousin,” he says with a hiss. “You’re a woman in our world. Why do you play with children?”

  “I need to get that,” I say.

  “No, I need to get it,” he says, then laughs as he clicks the phone. “Hello?”

  I reach for the phone, but he’s too quick. He opens the door and starts outside. I grab hold of his black hoodie, but he gets away. Smirking still, he almost shouts into the phone, “No, Scott, she can’t come to the phone.” Pause. “Why?” Pause. Laugh. “She’s half undressed.”

  “Bastard!” I yell, but he’s walking away, gathering up my clothes with his free hand.

  I jump out of the car and run behind him. His words feel like lashes of a whip on my bare back. “You’re confused. She didn’t tell you about the man in her life?”

  “Scott, don’t listen!” I shout, but I doubt if he hears me. I know that when I tell him the truth, he’ll never believe me now. “Damn it, Alexei!”

  “Hear that, kid? She’s yelling out my name,” he says. “Bet she doesn’t do that for you.”

  Every time I get close to him, he pulls away.

  “Listen, boy, you don’t want to mess with me,” Alexei shouts into the phone. “And Cassandra, I’ll fool around with her any time I want. What are you going to do about it?”

  I drop to my knees.

  “Huh? He hung up,” Alexei says cackling at his cruelty. “Let me see, who else are you talking to these days?” As he’s occupied with the phone, he drops my T-shirt on the dirty ground. I grab it. While I’m covering myself up, he’s reading off the list of names, ending with, “Samantha, who is she?”

  I can’t answer.

  “Maybe I’ll give her a call,” he says, then buries my phone in his front pocket.

  I can’t talk.

  “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he says, whispering in my ear.

  I am mute, but I wish I were blind and deaf.

  “You will give yourself to me or I will take what was promised. You decide, but the outcome will be the same either way,” he says, then slithers away, holding my phone and my fate.

  Once he’s out of sight, it feels like every cell in my body dehydrates at once as I try to shed tears. I summon my strength before there’s none left to save, then run back to Mom’s SUV. Leaping into the car, I seek out my water bottle and then chug down the water until I almost drown.

  When I can breathe normally again, I start to think of my options. I don’t have car keys to drive to see Scott. I look around the parking area, and in the distance, I see a cluster of buildings. Rummaging around in Mom’s car, I find a handful of change. I walk toward the buildings and there’s actually a pay phone. It takes a couple of tries to get the number right, but I reach Scott’s phone. He doesn’t pick up, and I don’t blame him. I know I can’t leave him a message; I have to see him to show his faith wasn’t betrayed.

  I need a miracle; I call Samantha.

  She picks up, but before she can speak, I say, “Samantha, it’s Cass. I need your help.”

  There’s a pause, and I think I hear faint laughter. She seems amused that I need her. She finally speaks, saying, “What do you want from me?”

  “Are you at school?”

  “Everybody’s cutting school today,” she says, sounding oddly proud for finally fitting in.

  “I’m out at Holly Recreation Area,” I say. “I need a ride.”

  “I don’t know where that is,” she says.

  “Really?”

  “Do I look like a person who goes to the beach? Who boats, swims, or fishes?” Her tone is sarcastic, but still oddly friendly. A friendly tease. “Where is it?”

  “It’s where Robyn died,” I say, and the phone goes silent.

  I wait her out, then finally say, “I could show you the spot.”

  “No!”

  “Okay, sorry,” I say softly. “But I’m stranded out here. It’s a long story, perfect for your book. Could you please, please come pick me up? I’ll owe you.”

  She pauses again like there’s too many words fighting to escape between her teeth. “I know you’ll owe me,” she finally says. “Why do you think I’m doing this?”

  “I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll read the book you’re writing,” I offer.

  “How about you tell me the truth instead,” she says.

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  Another pause, followed by a sigh, and then she says, “You know what I mean.”

  “Again?” I try laughing it off. “You have some imagination. No wonder you’re a writer.”

  “Maybe,” is her cryptic response.

  The reenactment will end soon, and everyone will start looking for me. Unless I escape, Alexei will find me, and then things will be done the hard way. “Come get me, please,” I say.

  “I’ll be there soon,” she says.

  I overhear voices in the distance. “I’ll make it easy; I’ll walk to the main entrance.”

  “It might take a while if—I mean when—I get lost,” she says, trying a joke.

  I laugh, then say, “Everybody’s lost in this world, Samantha. You’ll fit right in.”

  “For once,” she says, then hangs up. I say my silent goodbyes to my family, then start a long, lonely walk after a day filled with anger, not love.

  The walk to the entrance feels like it takes forever, but finally a beat-up black Honda with death metal pouring from the windows pulls up. Samantha honks and I move like fire.

  “Thanks,” I say, climbing inside and sitting on the ripped-up passenger seat.

  The car’s filthy inside, looking like a McDonald’s parking lot. Worse, it smells of smoke. When I start coughing, she says, “Sorry, the car is my mom’s ashtray.”
<
br />   I start laughing and gagging. She rescues me by putting down the windows and music.

  “Where do you need to go?” she asks as we drive away from the park.

  “I need to see Scott. We had a fight.”

  “You’re asking me to take you to see my ex-boyfriend,” she says, then sighs. “Well, at least you have someone to fight with.” I resist my urge to sigh or slap her. It is exactly the cage of self-loathing that bars Samantha from love and happiness, yet it is also what draws me to her.

  “So what were you fighting about?” she asks.

  “Nothing,” I mumble. Then with forced enthusiasm ask, “So, were you working on your book?

  “How did you know?” she asks, trying not to smile. As we drive farther away from the park, Samantha dives deeper into the details of her story. I pretend interest. It’s not that there’s anything wrong with the story, but it is like Samantha herself: one cliché on top of another. Like the layers of dark clothes she wears, these clichés hide the real person buried under the poses and pretensions.

  “What do you think?” she asks.

  “You’ve got a vivid imagination,” I reply.

  “So are you saying vampires are imaginary?” she asks.

  “You believe they’re real and that’s what matters,” is my misdirecting answer.

  “You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” she asks.

  “Not this again,” I say, trying to laugh it off. “You still think I’m a vampire?”

  “I know you’re something,” she says, not laughing at all.

  “I am trying to be something. I’m trying to be your friend,” I say.

  She pauses, unsure how to respond. “Well, where is Scott?”

  “I don’t know yet, can I borrow your phone?” I ask.

  “Well, you’ve taken my boyfriend, and you’re using my car, so …,” she says, then flips the phone my way. As I expected, Scott’s numbers are still in her phone, but it’s useless. He’s not picking up. I make one more call, reaching the nursing home. “Avalon Care,” the voice says.

  “This is Cassandra Gray. Is my grandmother there?” I ask, knowing that she’s miles behind me and probably looking for me with the rest of my family.

  “No, Cass, she’s not,” the woman says. I want to ask more, but I can’t think of the woman’s name. “She’s not on the schedule today. Do you want me to leave a message?”