Chapter 1: Aspen

A Chapter by D.L. Simmons

“Life is patient, but not that patient. Don’t keep it waiting. Do something!”

~Skye O’Connor~

Chapter 1: Aspen

Red and yellow leaves clung to my flannel shirt as I climbed down from the oak tree I was sitting in. I brushed them off and walked out of the forest toward home, shivering slightly. It was only mid-September, not cold enough for jackets and boots. Since it was getting dark, I quickened my pace. My dad worried too much when I wasn’t home by sunset. I tried to tell him that I’m sixteen years old and perfectly capable of keeping myself safe, but he insisted that it’s too dangerous at night for me to be out. It bothered me sometimes that he thought that I wouldn’t be able to defend myself if I needed to. Maybe I should take karate or tae kwon do to ease his mind. Ever since I turned twelve and mom died, he’s been overprotective.

I reached my front door, knocked, and let myself in when I felt the knob turn easily. I winced as the door groans. He came around the corner, his black hair messy and his eyes alert.

“Lyddie, I thought you were going to be back right after school.” His voice was calm, but his face held more tension lines than usual. It has to be more than just me getting home late, I thought.

“I’m sorry. I got out in the woods and I lost track of time. I’ll be more careful,” I hesitated for a moment then added firmly, “I promise.” All I want are for those lines to go away and for you to smile again.

“I’ll count on it,” he replied, but he didn’t smile and the lines between his eyebrows deepened. “Now let’s get some dinner.”

It was still quiet as I made a salad and he worked on spaghetti. There were so many things I should have said to make a conversation happen, but the air was heavy with unspoken thoughts, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to know them. I set the table and didn’t realize I sighed loud enough for him to hear until he looked up suddenly and startled me out of his thoughts.

"Lyddie?"

"Hmm?"

He looked at me for a long moment, searching my green eyes, and then looked away as if he’d given up. I felt my heart curl into the shell of my ribs, and I wondered how long it'd been since it fit comfortably in there. Hoping somehow we can reach outside of our own minds long enough to talk, I opened my mouth to say something, anything, but I didn’t have the words. It’d been so long since we had a real conversation and I didn’t know what to say to my own father. I shook my head, smiled, and buried myself deep inside the memories of better times.

Mom and Dad watched me, bundled up to my chin and rolling around in the snow, with their arms around each other.

“Watch me, watch me!” I squealed as I turned a half cartwheel on the powdered snow and fell, laughing. Then they ran to join me and we were all running and throwing snowballs. I tackled Dad and he caught me, lifting me up on his shoulders. I saw so much better from up there, all the way to the trees, bare and frosted with snow. Even at seven, I knew what beautiful was.

“Wow,” I breathed, and we all stood there for a moment in the cold air, silent before we headed back to the warm house for hot chocolate.

I jumped when I felt Dad’s hand on my shoulder, so deep within my memory.

“Oh,” I muttered, and realized that my hand was curled around the air as if it was a snowball. I quickly relaxed my fingers.

“I’m going to start on some homework, if you don’t need any more help.” He waved me away.

“I’ll let you know when it’s ready,” he replied.

I picked up my backpack where I dropped it earlier and went up the stairs two at a time. I didn’t stop until I reached my room. I kicked off my beat-up green converse and flopped down on my beanbag. It wasn’t even five minutes of working on algebra before I realized that I was thirsty. I dug for the water bottle in my backpack and downed half of it in a few seconds. I sighed and went back to my homework.

Algebra was like therapy for me, because I could focus completely on it�"it actually demanded my full attention. It wasn’t like writing an essay, where I could be going from that to something else and still be cohesive. I had to turn off my music, put aside distractions, and put my whole brain into figuring out each problem until it was solved perfectly, and that times thirty or forty problems every day. It was good to have that time when I didn’t think about anything else. Once my thirteen-year-old brother, Jonah, came up here when I was working. I didn’t even know he was there until he came right up to me and rapped his knuckles on my head.

“Jonah? What the heck was that for?” I stared at him, demanding an answer. He looked at me, his mouth slightly open, and then stepped back a few steps.

“Lyddie, I knocked three times. I called your name, but you didn’t answer, so I figured you had your headphones in or something. What are you doing?” He looked curiously at the textbook in my lap. “Is that…math?” He wrinkled his nose. He’s never liked it.

“Yeah. What were you calling me for?” I asked, still annoyed.

“Nothing, really. I just wanted to borrow your eraser. And a few paper clips.”

I gave him the items and then looked at him as he just stood there. His usual smile was gone.

“Jonah? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Thanks for the…stuff,” he gestured to his handful. Then he turned and walked out. What had I said?

When I knew he was around, I left my door open when I was doing math to avoid that happening again, but I liked it better shut.

“Lyddie! Dinner!” Dad called up to me.

“I’ll be right down!” I yelled back. I put my books in a neat stack and then went out, closing the door behind me.

It was quiet as we sat down, just the two of us eating.

“Where’s Jonah?” I asked.

“At his friend’s house. He’s working on a project but he’ll be back soon.”

I nodded. I ate quickly and then excused myself, saying that I wanted to finish my homework on the early side. As I was going up the stairs, I heard the phone ring.

“It’s for you, Lyddie,” Dad said, sounding more tired than ever. I came back to take my call.

“Lyddie!” It’s Skye, of course. She probably called my cell phone first, which is dead. I always forgot to charge it.

“Hey Skye, what are you up to?”

“Not a lot. I was wondering if you wanted to come over and hang out tonight. We could get our homework done and then do…whatever we want, basically.” I heard the smile in her voice. It sounded like she has something new to tell me. I covered the phone to ask Dad if I could go. He nodded. He was used to me disappearing after dinner. Even though it was only a few blocks away, he would drive me. I’d be getting my license soon, but since this truck is what I’d be driving, I wasn’t holding my breath about it.

“Thanks,” I mouthed, and then said to Skye, “I’ll be right over.”

“Awesome!” she replied, and I couldn’t help but smile.

The drive over was quiet. Suddenly Dad asked,

“So Lyddie, how was your day? Anything interesting happen?”

I was in shock for a moment, because he hardly ever started conversations, but then I managed to answer him.

“It was okay. Nothing too exciting.”

“Oh, right.” I wanted to draw out this moment, but I couldn’t think of one thing to say, at least not about my day. We were already pulling up to the O’Connor’s house, so I smiled as I get out.

“Thanks for driving me. Mrs. O’Connor can probably bring me back. See you later.” He nodded and I shut the door and walked up their driveway. He drove off as soon as he saw that I was on their porch. Skye was at the door even before I knocked. Sometimes I thought she was psychic.

“Lyddie!” She grinned and threw her arms around me. I hugged her back, and then followed her into the house. She was wearing a jacket that she sewed herself, of all colors and textures of fabric, and comfortable but worn jeans that she only wore at home. She was also barefoot, as usual.

Every time I came to their house, I felt welcome. Maybe it had something to do with the normal noise of six kids, as opposed to my quiet family of three, or the fact that Mrs. O’Connor always had something good in the oven, or maybe just the fact that people actually talked to each other here. We walked down the narrow hallway into Skye’s room, which she shared with her sister, Jasmine, who’s fifteen. Skye’s side of the room was colorful and full of her abstract art and ideas, while Jasmine was very careful about what colors she put together and how many there are. Her side was very neat and organized, while Skye didn’t care too much about that.

“Hey Jazz,” she called as she knocked on the door.

“Just a second,” Jasmine replied. I heard a shuffling around and then, “come on in.”

She was sitting on her bed in her satin pajama bottoms and a tank top, and she reached for a book when she saw I was with Skye. They exchanged a glance and somehow managed to communicate without speaking. Her younger sister said a quick hello to me and left with her book. As soon as she was gone, I said to Skye,

“She hangs out with us all the time. How come she left?”

“I have so much to tell you! She understands; she kicks me out every once in a while too.”

“I wouldn’t know sister-code. I’ve only ever had a younger brother.”

“Hey!” She slapped me playfully. “Shut up, okay? I consider you my sister. Come on!” I was quiet for a moment, and then I smiled at her.

“Thanks. Now I probably should start working on homework. I still haven’t finished math�"”

She cut me off.

“Oh, leave the math. I haven’t had you over in way too long. I want to actually talk.”

“Skye, it’s only been a week.” I laughed at her eagerness. “What is it you want to tell me?”

“Haha, that’s pretty much forever in my book. Well…you know how we’ve been with the same people since freshman year, and it kind of gets boring after a while?”

“Thanks a lot,” I huffed, pretending I’m offended. She ignored me.

“There’s a new family that just arrived. They have…oh, I don’t know how many kids. I know for sure there’s a girl who’s a sophomore and a guy who’s a junior and I think there’re a few younger ones, but I heard it from a friend so you know how that goes.”

“What? You already like the guy before you’ve even met him?” I teased. “Really, Skye, is that even possible?”

“I’m serious, Lyddie. They’re probably feeling really�"out of their element, and we should be the ones to welcome them, not snub them. You know how much that happens, even to people who’ve been in Aspen for years!” I nodded, finding it hard to believe that she called me over here to tell me this information.

“I mean, that sounds great,” I replied, looking around at the unique art that’s been appearing in her corner. There was an abstract sculpture of recyclable materials that she made look amazing somehow, and a huge project that she’d been working on for a few months by that time. I still hadn’t figured out what was yet, and because she spent most of her free time on it, I figured it might be discouraging to ask.

“Lyddie? Where are you? Are you listening to me?” Skye waved her hand in front of my face.

“Oh, sorry. I guess I zoned out. What were you saying?” She sighed a little.

“I was just saying that I remember the summer we moved here. Jazz and I talked a lot about it, because she’s not as outgoing as I am and it was tough for her to make friends. It’s really easy to feel lonely, and then not get to know people. I just want to make sure that we make friends with the…darn it! I forgot their last name.”

“I’m sure we can do that,” I said, chuckling, “and figure out their last name as we go.”

“Girls,” Mrs. O’Connor’s voice filtered in through the door, “do you want some fresh cookies and milk?” I jumped off the bed.

“Oh, Skye hates cookies, don’t you, Skye? But I would be glad to have some, Mrs. O Connor.”

Skye’s mom opens the door, her arms full of a tray with a plate of cookies and two glasses of milk. She smiles at me, and then says with a wink,

“I didn’t even see you when you came in. Skye just whisked you away. How are you, dear?”

“Great. Thanks so much for having me.” She nods and then motions to the cookies.

“Do me a favor and drink the milk while it’s cold, okay?”

She squeezes her daughter’s shoulder and disappears into the hall.

“Is there any other vitally important news I should know about?” I asked lightly. She pretended to think that over, making a big show of looking around the room, and then said finally,

“No, I think that’s it. You can do your math homework,” she mimed sticking her finger down her throat and gagging, “if you really want to.”

I shrugged. “It takes the most time. Is that why you hate it?” It was her turn to shrug. I pulled out my math book and started working, careful not to get so involved that I wasn’t tuned into the world around me. When she saw I really was serious about working, she got her paper out and started working on the English essay that was due in two days. We worked in silence for a while, both of us focused on the task in front of us.

We munched on the peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and they melted in my mouth. I did drink my milk before it got lukewarm, because I hated it that way. After I was finished with homework and I didn’t have anything to keep me busy, my eyes kept wandering over to Skye’s project. She looked up from her essay and noticed what I was looking at.

“Oh, that,” she said, “is my passion and also my problem.”

“Mmm,” I said, hoping I sounded supportive. I still didn’t know what “that” was.

“I keep trying to make it work. It’s being so annoying.”

It was a mess of all sorts of random objects like glass bottles and even Styrofoam, but I was sure that if anyone could make beauty out of it, it would be Skye. She made strange look beautiful.

But Skye never stayed down for long. She brightened again.

“Anyways, I’m almost done with the first draft of this essay.” I laughed.

“When is this due again?” She ignored me. “Oh yeah, it’s Skye O’Connor I’m talking to. I almost forgot.”

“Whatever. You can only make fun of me for so long before I find your weakness, Lydia Gray.”

I was suddenly tense.

“Lyddie. Just Lyddie. Didn’t I tell you that before?” I asked, but it came out as a whisper.

Skye looked at me, serious for once, and shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she said. I nodded; I couldn’t get around the lump in my throat to speak.

“Do you want to sleep over?” she said suddenly.

“Is that how you plan to fix everything?” I asked bitterly, before I realized how I sounded. Her mouth hung open for a second and then shut. She pulled her lips in as if to keep words from escaping.

“No,” she answered finally, “but it sounds like you really need to talk. I’m sure my mom wouldn’t mind. Your dad�"”

“�"is expecting me back soon. I should call him.” I avoided eye contact and rifled through my backpack for my phone, which I remembered too late, was dead. “Can I use your phone?” I asked, still not looking at her.

“Sure…” She handed me her cell, but sighed. “Lyddie?”

“Yeah?” I sounded guarded and tight, even to my own ears.

“You can trust me with anything,” she said softly.

“I know.”

“Okay.” I called Dad and let him know I’d be on my way home in a little while. He sounded even more exhausted. I was starting to feel tired just listening to his weary voice.

When Mrs. O’Connor was ready to take me home about a half hour later, I hadn’t talked to Skye much more at all, except to thank her and say goodbye. To her credit, she didn’t avoid looking in my eyes as I left. “Call me,” she mouthed as she walked me out to the car. Her mom dropped me off and said as I got out, “Have a good sleep, dear. It’s always lovely having you.” I smiled and thanked her. I was so tired all of a sudden that climbing the one flight of stairs seemed like scaling Mount Everest. As soon as I got up to my room, I crashed. I didn’t even have the energy to get my pajamas on, so I crawled into bed and fell asleep.