Transcendence (5 page)

“Actually,” he spoke without waiting for my
response. “Forget I asked. You should go to class.” Without waiting
for me to answer, he started walking down the hall. “But I’ll see
you tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder before turning around
the corner.

* * *

“You’ll never guess what happened in
chemistry,” Chelsea said, dropping her trigonometry book on the
desk next to mine and sitting down. She always came straight to
class to make sure she had enough time before the first bell to
rehash the recent conversations she’d had with Drew. It was hard to
smile and nod as Chelsea talked about him, but at least I was
feeling better about the French quiz after Hannah helped me figure
out how much the D would impact my final grade while we were in
drawing. It wasn’t as terrible as I’d thought, and as long as I
started to do better on quizzes and tests, my grade shouldn’t
suffer too badly. I was also glad that Hannah believed me when I
told her I didn’t think Hawaii was a foreign country.

“Let me guess,” I said, returning to
Chelsea’s question. “It has to do with Drew?”

“We’re going to the movies on Saturday
night!” she squealed, leaning forward in excitement.

I dropped my pencil in shock. “He asked
you?”

“Well…I asked him. And I sort of said I was
going to the movies with you and Jeremy and didn’t want to be a
third wheel,” she sneaked in, fidgeting in her seat. “You’ll come,
right?”

“Sure,” I said, keeping my voice level.
“I’ll have to ask Jeremy, but it shouldn’t be a problem.”

She barely let me finish my sentence before
speaking again. “This will be so much fun!” She beamed. “Thank you
so much. Next time you need me to do anything, I’m there. Not that
I wouldn’t be otherwise, but you know what I mean.”

“Anytime,” I said, the word sounding
strained as I spoke it. Out of all the guys in school, of course
Chelsea had to go for Drew. She was clueless about my feelings for
him, but it was impossible to not be irritated.

I picked up my pencil and started doodling
on an empty page of my notebook, trying to clear my thoughts of
everything involving Drew and Chelsea.

“Are you okay?” she asked. I must not have
been doing a good job at hiding my feelings.

“I’m fine.” I smiled in a way that I hoped
was convincing. “I just got a bad grade on my French quiz, and it’s
bothering me a bit.”

“One bad quiz grade won’t destroy your
average,” she assured me, shaking her head like it wasn’t a big
deal. “It was only a quiz, and you’re really smart. I know you can
do well.”

The guilt hit immediately. “Thanks,” I said,
knowing she meant it.

For the rest of the class, I couldn’t forget
the conversation I’d had with Drew earlier in the day. Technically
I wasn’t doing anything wrong by having him tutor me, but it felt
like I was going behind Chelsea and Jeremy’s back. And I still
couldn’t figure out why he offered to help me in the first place.
Perhaps he wanted to ask about Chelsea, since our being friends
must have come up in one of their conversations. However, I doubted
that was the case—Drew didn’t seem like the type to fish for
information when he was interested in a girl—he would probably just
go for it.

So what if he was doing that, but with me
instead of Chelsea?

Drew would be arriving in the library soon,
and I debated bringing up the double date planned for tomorrow
night. I leaned back in the beanbag and took a deep breath, telling
myself not to worry. There was no need to make this complicated.
When Jeremy got out of soccer practice, I would just let him know
about the plans. We’d gone on double dates with Chelsea and
whatever guy she was seeing at the time many times before. The big
difference this time was that she would be there with Drew, who I
couldn’t seem to get out of my mind.

Glancing out the large window, I attempted
to refocus by taking in the colors of fall. The late September
leaves looked like a pointillist painting with the various colors
of reds, oranges, and yellows, and I took out my sketchbook and
colored pencils and began drawing the scene outside, concentrating
on the trees as I tried to represent them to the best of my
ability.

“I didn’t know you were an artist.” Drew’s
now familiar voice caught me by surprise. I must have been so
involved in drawing that I didn’t hear him enter.

Placing my pencil down in the crease of the
book, I turned to look at him as he clicked the door shut. The
temperature had dropped enough in the past few weeks that his
leather jacket no longer looked out of place, and his dark eyes
focused on me, the same way they had when we spoke in the hallway
the day before.

“I like to sketch things sometimes,” I said,
shrugging and looking down at the drawing. “I’m not that good.”

“Would you mind if I look?” he asked,
remaining in place as he waited for me to respond.

“Sure,” I said without a second thought.
“It’s just for class though. Nothing too elaborate.”

Instead of waiting for me to get up and hand
him the book, he moved to sit next to me on the beanbag, leaving
only a few inches between us. It was impossible to think straight
with him sitting so close, and I tried to stay calm, not wanting
him to know the effect his presence had on me. Reminding myself
that he’d asked to see my sketches, I pushed the book in his
direction.

“It looks good,” he said, comparing it to
the scene outside. I didn’t know if I was imagining it or not, but
there seemed to be a trace of disappointment in his tone.

Maybe he didn’t like scenery drawings.

“I have some other stuff, too,” I said,
flipping through the pages to show him the sketch from the first
day of school—the one of the girl in the flowing dress.

He was quiet as he pulled the book towards
him. My heart thumped in my chest as I watched him study it,
wondering if he was silent because he loved it, or if he didn’t
like it and was trying to figure out what to say so it sounded like
he did.

He grazed the paper with his thumb, taking
in every line with his touch. “This is beautiful,” he finally said,
lifting his eyes to meet mine.

My cheeks flushed, and I looked back down at
the drawing. “Thanks,” I said softly, taking the sketchbook back
and placing it on my lap. “Jeremy hated it. I’m glad to know it
isn’t completely awful.”

“Jeremy’s wrong,” he said, his eyes becoming
darker than their normal shade of chocolate. “He must be completely
blind.”

I shrugged. “He just likes my sketches of
scenery better. And when I draw him playing soccer.”

He glanced at the sketch again. “This is
more interesting than Jeremy playing soccer.”

“I have a few more like it,” I said,
surprised at my willingness to share the drawings.

“Can I see?” he asked, waiting for my
response instead of grabbing it like Jeremy had on the first day of
school.

He made an effort to not brush against my
hand again when I handed it back over, and I lowered my eyes,
trying not to show my disappointment.

My palms became clammy as he examined each
drawing, surprised by how he appeared to appreciate each one of
them. I viewed each one along with him—the first being the girl who
resembled myself in what I’d discovered was a white morning dress
from the early nineteenth century. She ate breakfast on a wooden
porch overlooking a grassy yard that disappeared into a forest. In
the next she laid on a felt-cushioned sofa, reading a novel by a
lit fireplace while the setting sun cast shadows on her face
through the rectangular window in the back of the room. Many
sketches came after this, consisting of letter writing, playing
cards, and riding horses. Drew leafed through them wordlessly,
studying each page with the same intensity as the last. I was
afraid to breathe, scared that the slightest sound would break the
spell of silence.

He reached the end and lifted his gaze from
the book for the first time in several minutes. “Where did you get
the ideas for these?” he asked.

“We’re reading
Pride and Prejudice
in
my English class,” I explained. “I guess it inspired me.”

He nodded in agreement. “It’s a good
book.”

“Something about it seems so familiar,” I
said, trying to figure out how to explain. “I have such clear
images of what everything must have looked like back then, and I
can draw them so easily. It’s like the scenes are right in front of
me instead of only in my mind.”

His gaze never wavered from mine as I spoke.
The room was silent except for the soft cry of the wind outside,
and I could feel electricity crackling in the air.

He looked at me in question, like he was
seeing something he hadn’t before and was trying to figure out what
it meant. “That’s the sign of a great artist,” he said after a few
long seconds.

“Thanks,” I said, looking down at the book
between us. “You can have one if you want.” I moved my hand across
the paper, grazing his in the process. The small bit of contact
sent a rush of heat up my arm. I paused, pulling my hand back
towards myself a moment later.

“I probably shouldn’t take your homework,”
he said pulling his hand to his side as well. “Anyway, we should
start going over French since the test is coming up in three weeks.
From what I saw in class today, we’ve got a lot to cover.”

“Right,” I said, trying to ignore the heat
lingering on my hand from where it had touched his seconds before.
“Although like I warned you earlier, I’m pretty hopeless.”

He got up from the beanbag that we shared
and moved to the one next to me, pulling his French textbook out of
his bag. “And like I said earlier, I doubt that’s true.”

I didn’t refute his comment, but the chance
of my doing decently on the upcoming test was as likely as winning
the lottery. However, since he seemed determined to help, I decided
to at least put forth the effort.

* * *

Focusing proved impossible, and my French
didn’t seem to improve in the slightest, despite Drew’s words of
encouragement. While I tried concentrating, all I could think about
was the upcoming double date, and whether or not I should mention
it.

“So,” I said, looking up from my book.
“Chelsea told me you were coming to the movies with us tomorrow
night?” The statement came out as a question, and I cringed at what
an airhead I must have sounded like.

“That’s the plan,” he said. “Unless you
don’t want me to come?”

“No,” I stammered. “I do. I mean, Chelsea
does.”

“I would hope so.” He laughed. “Since she
asked me.”

I couldn’t think of a response, and not
wanting Jeremy to walk in during the study session, I looked at my
watch to see how much longer there was until soccer practice got
out. We had fifteen minutes, but I wanted to play it safe. Jeremy
wouldn’t react well if he walked in the library and discovered Drew
and I sitting close together on beanbags in the back room speaking
in French to each other.

“Jeremy will be here soon,” I said,
disappointed that the study session had to end.

“I would stay until he got here, but we
wouldn’t want to give him the wrong idea.” Drew winked, leaning
back in the beanbag.

I stared at him, shocked at the implication.
“He wouldn’t care,” I lied.

“Sure.” He smirked, not sounding
convinced.

“Are you jealous?” I asked, amused by his
reaction.

“Of Jeremy?” Drew laughed. “Never.”

His response surprised me, and I had no idea
how to reply. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then,” I said, closing
my French book and packing it into my bag.

“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” he said, grabbing his
bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I said bye and watched him walk out of the
room, finally able to think clearly once he was gone.
Drew isn’t
interested in me
, I reminded myself.
He’s interested in
Chelsea
.

Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was
wrong. It would have made sense for him to say something to get me
to talk about Chelsea if he was interested in her, but he didn’t
mention her at all.

Looked like I would just have to wait and
see how he acted with her on the double date tomorrow night.

**End of Sneak Peak**

I hope you liked the sneak peak of
Remembrance
! Anything you read after this
point will be spoilers for the rest of the series, so I recommend
reading the Transcend Time Saga first before continuing. If you’ve
read the Transcend Time Saga, enjoy the bonus material!

I wrote this scene as a homework assignment
for a creative writing class. After finishing the scene, I realized
I enjoyed writing from Chelsea’s point of view, and came up with
the idea for Vengeance!

Standing in my walk-in closet, I pulled on my
costume for the Halloween Dance, my heart fluttering as I thought
about Drew sitting on my bed waiting for me to model it for him.
Even though we’d been dating for almost a month, it was still hard
to believe that Drew Carmichael was my boyfriend. From the first
time I saw him when he walked into AP European History in the
beginning of the school year, I wanted us to be together, and
everything worked out as I planned. Drew Carmichael and Chelsea
Givens … it sounded perfect, and we were perfect together.

A lot of that had been thanks to Lizzie. I
was lucky to have her as a friend. If she hadn’t let Drew and me
come to the movies with her and Jeremy a few weeks ago, then maybe
none of this would have happened. That night set everything into
motion. It was the night Drew kissed me for the first time. The
memory made my cheeks heat up, and I took a few breaths to relax so
I didn’t look flushed when I went back into my room.