Part I
From The Shadows, I Rise…
1
Leon
1963 - Age 17
There’s something about my obsession with Alice that doesn’t make sense. She’s weird looking. Everyone says so. Her lips are too big. Her eyes are too wide and too green. She’s awkward and clumsy and rich.
And yet…
She’s the most perfect, prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my whole life. Watching her helps with my inner turmoil. Placates this dangerous need inside my chest, makes me pause, holds me back, keeps me in check.
They think she’s weird? They’ve no idea what’s inside me.
I’ve come to think of her as My Alice, even though we’ve never even spoken. She’s oblivious to the effect she has on me, to the fact that I haunt her every move from the shadows.
All. The. Time.
Out of instinct, I pull my hood down over my head, shrinking inside my own bubble, blocking out the rest of the world. My gaze tracks her as she hurries across the school field, eager to reach her favorite spot by the fence. She likes to sit there and read — her own way to shut out the world.
People laugh at her when she’s rushing, but I don’t think it’s funny, or embarrassing, or pathetic, or any of the other things they say. Sure, she has this nerve damage from an accident and her left toe always drags when she walks, and when she tries to go faster or to overcompensate when people are watching, she ends up lifting that leg too high, practically waddling.
It’s not a weakness. No one understands. To me, she’s made of pure strength. She raises her chin and carries on smiling, ignoring all the taunts and jeers from the idiots around us.
She’s almost there, nearly to her haven, when a boy yells as she passes. “Hey, tree frog!”
Tree frog. The really dumb name they’ve given her because of her big, beautiful emerald eyes. My teeth grind together in annoyance.
Alice flinches, her pace falters and she almost stumbles, but the breathtaking smile stays glued on her face. And it’s not forced. It’s real, and so blindingly dazzling that I can feel its warmth from all the way across the field. It doesn’t matter what shit this world throws at her, she’s happy.
She makes no sense.
“I’m talking to you, frog eyes!” The boy follows, shoving her between the shoulder blades. “You heading back to your pond before you give us all cooties? Watch you don’t accidentally drown yourself.”
After stumbling and straightening up, Alice pauses with her back to him.
My mind goes hazy. My legs feel numb. All I can see is his face, smashed and slashed, beaten to a bloody pulp. His eyes, wide with fear, as I break a bottle and ram the glass into his nose. The satisfying crunch as he falls to the floor and I stomp my boot into his head, grinding his already mangled face into the sidewalk…
“Ohhh!” A group of kids mutter as I’m dragged from my vision to find Alice turning round to face the boy, still smiling like he’s nothing more than a juvenile shitstain.
She’s wrong, unfortunately. His name’s Thomas. I’ve heard he’s in the process of initiation into the local gang, Los Lobos, or The Wolves. They’re known for their brutality and they’re taking over New York. This kid is bad news. His attention is the last thing she wants.
My fists clench at my sides, visions of his pulpy face still flashing in my mind, my heart racing with the thrill. I’m ready to destroy him right now, but my feet don’t move, because then Alice would know that I care.
I’ll make him pay later.
Still, I can’t just let him—
Thunk!
Alice takes a swing and punches Thomas on the chin. He staggers back. From shock, I think, because that was a weak-ass punch! Still, my chest fills with pride when she turns around casually, flicks dark hair from her eyes, and limps away. The crowd goes wild. Thomas glares at her with death in his eyes, he looks like he might retaliate, but then the principal strolls onto the field and he backs down.
“You’re such a creep.” My buddies arrived during the commotion. Well, buddies is a bit of an exaggeration. They continue to engage me, and I go along with it in an attempt to fit in and stay off the radar. Joe slaps my shoulder as we both sit down on the damp grass. “Such a stalker.”
“It’s not like that.”
I know that Alice wakes up at seven each day. She eats lunch at Bella’s Diner on Saturdays. She goes to a piano tutor on Tuesdays at five. She attends church every Sunday. Goes to galas and other social events every Friday. I think she hates them, but endures. Her father works for the government. He’s never home, and when he is, he might as well not be for all the attention he gives his family. Her mother is a socialite who cares more about appearances than living. Which is why she favors Alice’s perfect, stuck-up sister. Alice loves the color blue. She uses coconut shampoo, leaving the scent everywhere she goes. She's never late for anything. She rarely uses cuss words. She has the most dazzling smile in all the world—
“So, if you’re not a creeper, when you gonna stop watching her and get in there for some action? Everyone knows she’s still a virgin, you need to—”
“Never,” I mutter.
James snorts, dropping down on my other side. “Look, if you don’t get down with that freaky-faced frog soon I might be tempted to do it myself, just for the virgin points. You two pussies always get there before me.”
“Do you think you get more points for someone like her?” Joe asks. “You know, what with her weirdness.”
They both fall about laughing.
They don’t get it. She’s not weak, and she’s not for touching, she’s too valuable.
Look, but don’t touch.
I press my fists into my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to erase the terrible visions that won’t stop cycling on repeat. I need to get my fill, study my Alice without interruptions, focus my mind back to nothing but her—
But when I open my eyes again it’s her sister, Mary, that I see.
She struts across the campus with all heads turning to stare. Joe and James quit rough-housing to gawk and whistle. She’s the polar opposite of Alice. All perfectly proportioned features, sex appeal, and rich-bitch attitude.
And doesn’t she know it. Personally, I think she’s vile. I don’t get why everyone’s always tripping over themselves to make out with her. She’s seen more action than the school football field.
“Did you hear what Mary did with that boy from our science class?” James eyeballs her as she bends over to pull her socks up, fully aware of the view she’s giving the whole campus, her skirt barely covering her ass.
I turn away from the sight, seeking out my Alice again. My heart lurches against my ribs as I realize that she’s looked up from her book and is staring at me. Dammit! Why is she looking? She never pays attention to me!
I quickly look away, thankfully sensing her doing the same. Alice giving me any indication of acceptance would be bad. I might not be able to hold myself back from approaching her, and then… well, I don’t want to think about the thens. I can’t be trusted.
Plucking blades of grass, I roll them into balls and flick them at the back of Joe’s head. He’s too caught up in what Mary’s doing to notice. I guess we’re all just teenage losers, obsessing over skirt. Maybe I’m not so different after all.