The Chronicles of Fire and Ice_The Revealing Page 8

  “What did you think you were doing dancing with my boyfriend?” Jessica ran over screaming frantically, waving her finger at Monica. “You have your own homeless boyfriend to take care of. Dylan is off limits. And you, Diana, when are you going to get a boyfriend of your own and stop trying to steal everyone else’s you whore.”

  “HEY WHO DO—” I yelled.

  “Shut-up-Ma-key-ott-oh. You’ve already ruined my night once and I won’t let you or any of you lames add to that. So, do us all a favor and go find mommy and daddy, maybe your real parents have enough money to send you to college.”

  “Who do you think you are?” Monica lashed back, taking a step towards Jessica, eyes dark with rage. Her Spanish accent started to emerge. “Eres un cerdo egoísta. Asi ingrate.” Monica spat her words out with fire.

  “Speak English, you immigrant,” Jessica snapped back. Before Monica could respond, Jessica picked up a cup of punch off the table and splashed it all over her. Monica flinched as the red juice ran down her face. Jessica grabbed Dylan by the wrist, “Come on, Dylan, we’re leaving.”

  He snatched his arm back in disgust. “No, Jessica.” Dylan slowly backed away from her. “I’m tired of this, tired of you. I’m not going anywhere.”

  Everyone stopped dancing and tuned into tonight’s episode of the Dylan and Jessica show. “Stop it, Dylan, you’re embarrassing me. Let’s go.” She looked around but failed to connect her eyes with anyone else.

  “You just don’t get it do you? You’re mean, rude, and disrespectful to everyone, and I don’t want to be a part of it anymore. We’re done!”

  “Dylan you can’t dump me, not tonight, not on prom.” Her voice quivered. Everyone could see the embarrassment and shame adorning her like a cloth. The whole class stood there in awe, whispering and gossiping.

  “I do what I want, Jess,” Dylan said. “Find your own way home.” He walked over to me, Monica and Diana. “You guys all right? Sorry about all this.”

  We nodded.

  “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he said. We gathered our things and left the gym to the limo.

  “I’m sorry about that, Monica,” I said.

  “No need to worry, she just better not let me catch her outside these heels.”

  “No, you’re not going to fight. You’re better than that,” I said.

  “I can’t believe she went crazy like that, Dylan. What were you thinking staying with her that long?” Diana asked.

  He didn’t respond. He sat there in silence the whole ride home. He didn’t want the night to turn out like this for anyone.

  None of us did.

  “Well at least one good thing came out of tonight,” Diana said. “Marcus winning prom king and the look on Jessica’s face when you two had to dance.”

  Monica, Diana and I all laughed. In all honesty, that was sort of the high point of the night. We pulled up to Diana’s house.

  “What a night. Catch you all later,” Diana said as she got out. Next was Monica’s house. When we stopped, I got out and walked her to the door.

  “I apologize again for the punch all over you,” I said, admiring her ruined dress.

  “You didn’t know she was going to snap like that. It’s not your fault,” she said.

  I walked closer to her, holding her tight and close. Her head rested on my chest, her hair ruining my tux. The moment just seemed right. I had to tell her how I felt. I believed in my heart that she felt the same way.

  “Monica,” I stuttered.

  “What is it, Marcus?” she asked. I ran my fingers through her sticky hair.

  “I can’t—I can’t keep these bottled-up feelings for you anymore. You’re the only person who I’ve had feelings for like this. Although it crushed me when we broke up, you didn’t abandon me, our friendship continued to grow. You’re the only person who understands me, who makes me feel normal in a world where I feel like a Martian. Guess what I’m trying to say is that I’ve fallen hard for you. I think … I mean, I know for sure that I want to be with you and I don’t want to go another day without you not knowing how I truly feel about you.”

  I was relieved that I got that off my chest.

  She looked at me with a sparkling tear in her eye. She wrapped her arms around my slim back and pressed her sticky face to mine, pecking me on the cheek.

  She whispered my name and took a step back. “You’re about to graduate and leave for college to who knows where while I’ll be here in Poughkeepsie, still in high school. I know that you’ve dreamed of getting away from here for the longest time, and you are destined for far more than what this city has to offer. If we get back together I feel like I’ll be holding you back. In fact, I know I will. You will lose focus on your work and life and I don’t want to be the blame for that. You are an amazing man who will do great things in the future. Just not with me at your side.”

  It was like we had broken up again. That crushed feeling I had back then reemerged, my healing scars bleeding once more.

  I couldn’t have felt anymore low at this point. My real parents didn’t want me, my classmates didn’t accept me, and now the girl of my dreams was nothing but an illusion.

  What’s the point? I thought.

  It took every ounce of strength I had left to contain myself and stop the tears from falling.

  “I’m sorry, Marcus. I have to go. I had a great time tonight.” Tears running down her face, she walked into the house, closing the door behind her.

  Once I got back inside the limo, I lost it. The emotion took over. I balled up my fists, trying to contain myself. I didn’t want to just burst out crying, but the tears came.

  “I’m sorry, bro,” Dylan said, doing his best to console me.

  I was dropped off at my house. I walked in and went straight to my room. I threw my tux off, hung up my sash, my crown, and scepter. I took a long hot shower to wash the rejection off me.

  I slept in the living room so I wouldn’t wake Elias. I turned on the television then noticed a note on the coffee table with an envelope next to it. The note read:

  I hope you had a great night at prom with your friends. A letter from Harvard University came for you a while ago, but I held onto it until after prom so whatever the decision was wouldn’t affect your night. Just know that you make us proud and I know the Dean has made the right choice.

  -Mom

  This was the moment of truth, my one chance to forget about the last seventeen years and move on from here. I picked up the envelope and stared at it as I read the front. I couldn’t believe my name was on this. I slowly opened the top and pulled out the letter. I unfolded the paper and saw the Harvard letterhead on it. This was really happening. I started to read and my excitement soon turned to anger once again and more tears shed when it said I wasn’t admitted for the upcoming academic year.

  My head dropped as the letter hit the floor.

  My body melted off the couch.

  I felt like I didn’t have anything else to live for.

  I pulled my phone out and sent Dylan a text, letting him know Harvard University rejected me. I dropped my phone and when it hit the floor, every candle in the living room instantly lit up the dark room. I pulled the blanket on top of me and went to sleep. Seemed like the only thing that accepted me.

  Chapter 8

  Fire and Ice

  I finally got in the bed and relaxed when my phone buzzed with a message from Marcus.

  I squeezed the phone in my palm, my face now hot.

  I couldn’t believe that Harvard rejected him of all people. His personality and spirit mixed with his brainpower would have been a great asset to that school. Another reason for me to dwell even more about the horrible night Marcus had, and to add icing to the cake, he was denied from his dream school. I walked towards my dresser and opened the first drawer and there they were, six pieces of papers all lying on top of each other.

  I picked them all up.

  “Stanford, NYU, Columbia, Syracuse, Brown,”—I counted off as I laid
each one back into my sock drawer— “and Harvard.”

  I was accepted to all these colleges and thought that it would be a great surprise to tell my best friend I was accepted once he got his acceptance letter. I didn’t even tell anyone that I applied outside my parents; I think it’s best if I kept it that way. As I put the Harvard letter back, my eyes started to itch like a nasty irritating hair was stuck on it. I glanced up at the mirror and there it was, my eyes were blue. Seconds later the itching turned into a tingling sensation that quickly radiated down to my hands like a jolt of energy. What looked like frost emerged from my fingertips, then spread all over the paper until it froze.

  I choked on the lump in my throat; my fingers went numb as the frozen paper slipped from my grip.

  I was stunned.

  Scared.

  Confused.

  Slightly horrified at the sight, I backed away from the paper so quickly I tripped over my shoes. The shock of it all wouldn’t let me stop and collect my thoughts. I shuffled until I hit my head against the wall. I sat there, rubbing my head, amazed at what happened, then got up and walked towards the paper that magically covered itself in ice.

  How did I do this? I toyed between thinking this was the coolest thing I’d ever done, and the scariest. “This is so cool,” I laughed to myself.

  Anxiety had me in and out of sleep. I just had to know if I could do it again, if I could freeze something. I jumped out of bed and grabbed a pen off the desk. I looked at it as if I had some clue of what I was doing or if I could even do it again. I held the pen up in front of my face with a big smile and screamed out, “OK, this is it. Freeze.” The pen stared back at me, no frost. I walked to the mirror and decided to try something else. I sealed my eyes tight, counted, and on three I screamed: “Blue.” I opened my eyes and two boring brown ones looked back. Maybe I was dreaming last night and didn’t really freeze anything? One step to the right and my foot was in the water that had melted from the ice.

  “I knew I wasn’t crazy,” I screamed.

  “Well that’s good to know, Dylan,” Mom said from outside my door. “Breakfast is ready, come downstairs if you’re hungry.”

  I went downstairs and sat at the table where the rest of the family was already seated and chowing down.

  “How was your big night?” Mom asked, eyes gleaming as she leaned across the table.

  “You sure you want to know,” I murmured, forgetting about the magic and remembering the horror.

  “Of course we do, sweetie.”

  “OK, here’s the abridged version: Jessica threw punch onto Monica, that was after Marcus won prom king and all this was before I dumped her,” I said. Mom’s jaw dropped in awe and Dad’s reaction… was well… normal.

  “Well that was some prom night you had,” said Dad.

  “And last night I made up my mind on what college to attend. I will be notifying the dean tomorrow of my decision.”

  Mom sunk into her chair and quickly changed the subject, “Please tell me you have put some more thought into your college decision?”

  “Please say Stanford … please say Stanford,” Dad whispered to himself.

  “Jackson,” Mom said, slapping Dad across the head. She redirected her attention back to me. “Whatever school you choose, just know we’ll be happy for you,” Mom chimed.

  “I’ve decided to go with…” I hesitated.

  Every part of me wanted to say Harvard University, but deep down I honestly had no idea what school I wanted to attend. My whole life I’ve wanted to go to Harvard and now I'm faced with the decision of a lifetime. But was it truly me who wanted to go to Harvard or was it a projection of Marcus’ desires? My parents were on the edge of their seats, practically biting their nails waiting for me to say something.

  “NYU,” I blurted before my brain could finish my thoughts.

  “What?” Dad yelled.

  “Jackson!” Mom yelled, hitting Dad on the head once more.

  “I’m just saying, Christine, all the offers he got and NYU is his decision?” Dad said with such disappointment.

  I didn’t want to be too far from my little brother and if anything went wrong, I could be home in a few hours. Of course Harvard and Stanford were my top two choices and NYU was my last but nonetheless it was still a good school and still in the best state ever — New York.

  Sounds convincing, Dylan.

  “So what about Marcus? Is he going to Harvard?” Dad asked.

  I knew that if I told them Marcus didn’t get in, they would know that I turned it down to spare his feelings and they just wouldn’t understand. So I lied. “I'm not sure yet. He’s still waiting on his acceptance letter, but I'm sure he did. He’s a smart guy.”

  Dad let out a long sigh then said, “I guess we’ll get all your things sent in tomorrow and get you registered for classes and payments and all that jazz.” He buried his head into the paper.

  “Well, little brother, looks like I won’t be too far from you after all.” I smiled at my parents. It was obvious they seemed a little upset.

  The next day at school while walking in with Marcus, some of the girls in Jessica’s clan bombarded us.

  “So Jessica says she accepts your apology and you guys can like … get back together and stuff,” one of them said.

  Marcus and I turned to one another and laughed at the silly blondes. I pulled out a piece of notebook paper and wrote a quick note.

  “Here, give this to Jessica when you see her.” I handed her the paper that read:

  Jessica let me spell it out for you O-V-E-R!! Signed Dylan Perry

  The nosey clan member opened the note, and the rest of the clan leaned in. Their noses flared, skin flushed red in the face. She balled the paper up and threw it at me before they stormed off.

  “You know that’s gonna piss her off, right?” Marcus said cheerfully.

  “Yep, I know,” I replied with a smile on my face.

  “Now, you know how crazy she gets when she’s angry. You might want to watch your back, bro.”

  “She’s harmless. Plus, you’re the one who has two classes with her, not me. Remember that.”

  “We graduate in eleven days. I'm not too worried about her,” Marcus chuckled as we walked off to class.

  Walking into English, Marcus and I were greeted by a round of applause from our classmates. I walked closer to the crowd, turned, and did the same.

  “Why is everyone clapping?” Marcus asked dumbfounded.

  Samantha ran up to Marcus, her glasses nearly falling from her face, and grabbed his hand. “Every year some cocky jock with muscles wins prom king and the queen is always one of those butthole cheerleaders. Well, it’s about time someone broke the barriers around here.” She threw her hands to her hips and shifted her weight to one side.

  “But, Jessica won prom queen?” he said.

  “True. But, you winning is a start. The geeks, I mean, the socially under-classed according to the Stereotypical Encyclopedia of American High Schools, from here on out, have something to look forward to. You’re like a hero now, Marcus.”

  Marcus grinned. His smile glowed, brightening his brown skin. He walked to his seat shaking the hands of his peers along the way. Those same people that shunned him congratulated him for setting a trend. The walk to his seat was so presidential. A light had come over him and I wasn’t going to let anyone steal his joy.

  Classes went smooth for us that day, the next day, and pretty much the rest of the week. I managed to steer clear of Jessica the entire week but I couldn’t say the same for Marcus. At least she didn’t have much to say to him.

  On the last full day of school, I met up with Marcus at the lockers after class. Everyone was cleaning out all their belongings and storing trash and old unwanted photos for the bonfire.

  “Hey! Wanna hit up Trey’s end of the year party wit me?” I asked Marcus.

  “Wait what party? You talked to Trey?”

  “Yeah, you haven’t?”

  “No. He’s been avoidin
g me the past few weeks.”

  “Well, he’s having one last party tonight and you’re coming, OK. I’ll let him know he needs to cut the act and stop avoiding you.”

  “Can you believe that this is it? No more high school classes for us”

  “Nah, I can’t. Just finals and then we walk the stage. Hey, have you had any contact with Monica?”

  He stared off for a second then turned back to me. “No not really. Don’t think I can be around her without my emotions going haywire. Definitely need some space.” The last thing he pulled from his locker was a picture from two years ago of her locked onto his arm in the hallway. I couldn’t believe he threw it in the bonfire collection can. He stared absentmindedly at the trashcan.

  “Hey,” I said, placing an arm around him, guiding him down the hall, “you never told me where you going for college?”

  Still walking, he looked over his shoulder at the trashcan. “NYU. I applied there a while ago as a backup plan in case I didn’t get into Harvard. Good thing I did, right?”

  “That’s a great thing.” I stopped and guided his face back to mine.

  “Serious?”

  “Yeah man, you get to spend another four years with your best friend.”

  “Quit playing.”

  “No lie, kid.”

  “Just when Poughkeepsie couldn’t get enough of us, New York City better get ready.”

  “What dorm you staying in?”

  “Goddard, you?”

  “Dad said they’re putting me in Founders. See if we had planned this, we could’ve been roommates.”

  “Yeah, I know, right. Well, at least I will have one friend at school.”

  “Hey, this is college not high school. Nobody will know who you are or where you come from. You can be anyone you want.”

  “I just want to be Marcus.”

  “Well, be Marcus then.”

  Later that night I stopped by Marcus’ house to pick him up for the party. Before I could get slightly comfortable, his parents hit me with a heap of questions. I didn’t mind it though.

  “So I hear that you and Marcus will be attending school together in the fall,” Mr. Peterson said.