Light as a Feather, Stiff as a Board

Chapter 15

To my great annoyance, the school nurse forced me to suffer through a twenty-minute lecture about the food pyramid and an inaccurate description of how the human body converts food into energy. There was no point in telling her that I was eating plenty, but probably losing weight simply from sleeping on either the couch or restlessly in my next door neighbor's bed to dodge evil spirits. I was asked to return every Friday morning before Homeroom for the rest of the fall semester to weigh in. This time, I didn't even think Violet had played a role in bringing attention to my weight loss. Coach Stirling was right; even though I wasn't on the strict diet I had followed all summer, I was still fastening my belt one notch tighter than I had been in September, and I had to admit that my cheeks were starting to look a little gaunt.

As the week progressed, I began having terrible dreams about beaches and Hawaii. It was impossible to know if it was Olivia inspiring the dreams, or if my own subconscious was working overtime. When I would open my eyes in the morning and roll over to look through my window toward Trey's house, often I would see him already awake, standing there, checking on me. A ukulele tune that I was pretty sure I had never heard before in my life other than in my Hawaiian dreams began playing on repeat in my head constantly. It blasted through my brain, roared between my temples, destroying any chance I had of concentrating on the days of review in preparation for our mid-terms, and at an even louder volume on Thursday and Friday, when I sat in front of computer screens in my classrooms, staring slack-jawed at the tests I could not complete.

During my Spanish mid-term, I felt the weight of a hand on my shoulder and looked up to see my teacher, Mrs. Gomez, studying my screen. Forty minutes of class had passed, and I had only filled in responses to the first five questions on the test. "Is everything alright, McKenna?" she asked me quietly so as not to disturb the other students, hard at work on their mid-terms.

"I have a headache," I managed to sputter through the ukulele chords in my head, which were blurring my vision and making my ears ring.

"Nurse's office," Mrs. Gomez commanded.

So I found myself back in Nurse Lindvall's office for the second time that week, outstretched uncomfortably on the cot, trying to drown out the imaginary music in my head with ibuprofen while I stared at the white ceiling above. While I could barely focus on anything, I felt the nebulous sensation of having failed my mid-terms closing in on me. Failure and falling semester grades would be a concern for the following week, after Winnebago Days, after Candace boarded her flight with her father and half-brothers bound for Hawaii. I could worry about my grade point average after Candace arrived back to her mom's house in Willow safely.  I made no mention of my performance on my mid-terms to my mother after school, not wanting to give her even more reasons to worry about me.

On Friday night, I walked through the Winnebago Days carnival with Trey, our arms entwined. The roars coming from the Tilt-o-Whirl, the blasting music, and the smell of kettle corn were sensory overload, and I appreciated all of it for distracting me from what I feared would happen in the next few days. "I think, for safety's sake, we might be wise to avoid all rides," Trey told me as we both stood in front of the rickety-looking ferris wheel, hesitating before stepping into the line to buy tickets. We saw Violet climbing into a passenger car with Pete. She was wearing bright red tight jeans and a white leather jacket that looked new, her long dark hair hanging straight down her back. Jeff and Melissa climbed in after them to share the ride, and a tattooed carnie closed the door to the car behind them before the ferris wheel rotated slightly so that the next passengers could board. They looked like the perfect group of popular high school friends, without a care in the world. Of everyone watching them in line, only Trey and I knew that a complicated murder had brought them together.

In a town as small as Willow, it was a surefire bet you would encounter just about every single resident at some point during an event as big as Winnebago Days. We passed Mischa and Matt as they waited in line for the small roller coaster, called the Zipper. I waved at Mischa but we didn't slow down to talk to them; carnivals were for couples and Trey and I were in a silent world of our own. We saw Principal Nylander at one of the game stands, trying to toss a quarter into a glass jar to win his daughter a stuffed lion. We saw and ignored Tracy and Michael making out at a table near the grill where hotdogs and hamburgers could be ordered, and Coach Highland and his wife and young children swaying to the music near the stage that had been set up for a performance by Norwegian Wood, a local Beatles cover band.