Saturday Morning

My phone rings from inside my gym bag right as I push on the doors to leave the rec center. I feel around it to search for the phone while I walk towards my car. It’s stuck under my lifting belt. I pull it out and answer it, not giving mind that one of my lifting straps and headphones come flying out. Because I don’t, I don't realize that the headphones land in front of me and I accidentally step on them, breaking them.

“I got you tickets for my show,” Cody says over the phone.

“Does that warrant a phone call?” I try to hide my frustration with my broken headphones.”

“Damn, I didn’t know you don’t have time for me anymore,” Cody laughs.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. You make it like I wouldn’t come regardless. It’s going to be nice to see you again.”

“Time flew by, what’s another few weeks?”

Cody’s been my friend since I was a freshman, a few months after I moved to Darkwood. I had the biggest crush on him even though he was a Senior at the time. Those feelings are quenched by now and he’s one of my best friends. I’ve been with him since day one of him launching his music career. He's coming back home soon and that's one thing to look forward too. The few months without him around haven't quite felt the same. More recently, these past few weeks have been off.

Back home, I take off my clothes when I shut the door to my room and immediately head to the shower. I turn the knob to make the water as hot as possible. Scorching hot has been becoming the norm lately. The burn is a reminder that I’m still alive and that my skin hasn’t gone numb.

I’m still very sleep deprived but I’m used to it. Having weird thoughts like that aren’t too unusual.

Amongst the steam, the smell of smoke and iron begins to overpower my nose. The boiling water becomes lukewarm and the pressure eases to feel like it’s rainfall. All of a sudden, it’s night time and I can barely see what’s in front of me. Behind me far in the distance, a name is being called for.

Elizabeth’s name.

She’s down on the floor in front of me, lifeless.

I’m brought back to reality and I immediately turn off the shower. I haven’t had a flash of that night in over a year. I moved on so it doesn’t bother me as much. I’m just a bit delirious from the lack of sleep.

I ignore the slight pull towards nothing that just tugged.

My bathroom is covered in steam by the time I exit the shower. I only bother to dry my hair with a towel and don’t touch my body. The dripping water from my skin forms a small pond on the tile floor. I’m glad there’s too much condensation on the mirror.

I dry my hands and post on Instagram the photo I took of myself at the gym earlier. A full body photo that I used a tripod to take. My legs are finally starting to grow in size and I want to show them off.

Within a minute, no, seconds, my notifications are flooded with likes and comments. They’re all strangers. Emojis from both genders, meaningless praise too. I find the comments from creeps the most amusing. It never gets old blocking them.

I always get DM’s soon after I post anything, but rarely from a company and not some dude trying to hit on me. It’s from a company. They’re offering a sponsorship. They like my posts and want to help me grow my reach if I begin to promote their brand.

37676 followers.

That’s how many I have. Not massive by any means, but abnormal for any regular person to have. I hate the word but by definition I’m an influencer even if I don’t try to be.

The sponsorship is from a massive business and one that I actually buy from this time. I have no qualms in promoting something I already use.

But I don’t care about any of that.

I’m not a sell out and I don’t want to be an influencer. I just want to be me. If people like that, so be it, I couldn’t care less.

I deny the company.

My body has dried itself and the condensation on the mirror has cleared. I accidentally take a peak at myself but quickly look away. I drop the towel on my hair and soak up the pool of water I left.

Once I get ready, I head downstairs where my foster sister, Sara, stops me from heading out.

“Mom managed to get the day off for your birthday. I hope you didn’t have plans.”

“When don’t I have plans?” I say halfway out the door.

“It’s the big 18, Grace. She wants to celebrate.”

“And we’ll celebrate. I’ll figure something out.”

I wish it was that simple. I was banking on my mom being stuck at work again to have my party. Now I have to pick and choose. I could always postpone my party but that night is all everyone is looking forward to. I’m sure I can figure out how to do both, it shouldn’t be a problem.

Honestly, I prefer not to have a party in the first place. Now that school is almost over, I’ve been beginning to think about how much energy I give out to everyone. I’m always doing something with someone. I make time to be everyone’s friend. I haven’t had a week where I’ve slept longer than 6 hours every night in months.

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My knees almost stumble from a strong gust of wind that hits me. Luckily, the house where I babysit on Saturdays isn’t a far walk from home. Halfway there, it begins to drizzle from rain. I’ve been waiting for it for weeks now.

I love the rain. I love waking up to it. I love how cozy it makes my room and bed feel with how chill it makes them. It’s like an invisible blanket is tucked over me. I love hearing the droplets crash against the roof. I love walking in it. I love the thick fog that envelops the streets sometimes. It makes the small and remote mountainous town I live in seem even more hidden.

It makes the world seem quiet and calm. It slows it down in that sense.

But what I love the most is the smell that it brings. The earthy scent is always strongest when it hasn’t rained for a while. It’s been years since it’s been this strong. When it smells like this, it’s sweet and fresh. It’s like taking a bite out of wood and stone. If green could have a taste, this is what it would be. It’s like the air is being covered with an ethereal breath seeping out of the ground.

Petrichor, it’s called.

It’s the fragrance of Mother Earth.

My thoughts are clearest when it rains.

Why do I even care so much to meet everyone’s expectations? Why do I pretend that I’m a cut above the rest?

I know it’s me and who I am. I’m popular. I’m pretty. I’m perfect. Everyone loves how I style my clothes. They all love how outgoing I am and that I’m equally kind to everyone. They only see confidence and a leader behind it. When I talk, people listen. They follow. Girls want to be me, they want the attention I receive. They’re friends with me only for the popularity I bring them. Guys want to be with me, they see me as a trophy and rarely anything less. Everyone has ulterior motives from me.

I see through them.

There’s only a few genuine friends of mine who aren’t like that.

It’s tiring.

Elizabeth felt the same way. I can understand her a bit more because of how similar I turned out to be. She was tired of the pressure. It began to overwhelm her. It’s easy to crack under the pressure. It’s easy for it to become too overwhelming. It’s easy to get lost while trying to escape from it.

There’s an urban legend that this town is cursed. They say it corrupts everyone. Corruption means different things for different people. Most agree it means becoming recreational drug addicts. A few others see it as becoming the worst version of yourself. I see the latter.

Elizabeth was seen as the only person whom this cursed town could not corrupt. She was an inspiration, someone to look up to. Someone who was above the degeneracy. A girl shining through the darkness. Everyone loved her. Everyone turned out to be wrong. Elizabeth had her secrets and died with them.

Now everyone sees her light in me.

The thing about the shadows of the past is that I can learn from them.

There’s a difference between me and Elizabeth. She pretended. She was made out of pyrite, and it cracked. Elizabeth was never the girl she fooled everyone she was.

I’m who she wished to be.

#

“Jeez, Grace, don’t you have an umbrella?” Aylin asks once she opens her front door.

“It’s not raining too bad just yet,” I say, entering dry land.

“You can borrow one of mine when you head home tonight,” Aylin sighs, “It’s only going to get worse.”

“Sorry I came so late.”

“It’s fine, you never are,” Aylin goes over to the kitchen and digs around her purse.

Her daughter, Helen, is on the kitchen table watching a video on her phone. She notices her mom pulling out some money and slaps it away. “If that’s money for pizza, don’t give it to her.”

Aylin tilts her head, perplexed. “Relax, it’s her pay for the month.”

I place the $300 dollars I’m given in my handbag and drop that off on the kitchen counter. “You haven’t complained before. I can order something else if you’re tired of pizza.”

“No, I want you to cook for me, like last week.”

I almost laugh. “You'd rather have my cooking?”

Aylin does laugh. “What did you make her?”

“Nothing special.”

At least I think. It was just a chicken and bean burrito, nothing fancy. It’s quick and simple to make but I didn’t think Helen would like it so much.

“I’ll start making lunch before I leave from now on, sweetie.”

“No, I want Gracie to do it.”

“Ouch,” Aylin rolls her eyes. “Your birthday’s next Sunday, right? I can free you that Saturday if you want to celebrate.”

Helen drops her phone and stares at her mom offended. “No! Me and Grace are going to explore the forest!”

I look at the little girl and giggle then back to her mom. “It’ll alright, Aylin. Babysitting little Helen won’t get in the way of any of my plans.”

“Then I’ll make sure to have a birthday present ready if that’s the case.”

I shake my head, “Give it to this one instead,” I poke Helen’s forehead, she grins. “Thank you for the thought though.”

“That’s not for you to decide,” Aylin giggles, grabbing her car keys off the table. “Well I gotta head out now. Don’t drive Gracie too crazy, sweetie. See you guys tonight.”

After her mom leaves, Helen picks up the phone she received for her 9th birthday a few months ago. She used to be a little ball of unlimited energy before she had one. All her attention span goes into Youtube videos now.

It’s been three years since I started babysitting her and I haven’t missed a Saturday yet. I’m Aylin’s only consistent option since her brother moved out of state. I’d do it for free if she would let me but Aylin insists on paying me. I don’t see it as any work because of how easily I get along with her and Helen. The similarity with our names brings a sort of kinship.

Graceful Aylin Farrigan is her full name.

“What do you want to do today?” I ask Helen.

“It’s raining, what is there to do?” Helen’s gaze doesn’t break away from her phone.

“We can have a movie marathon.”

“Movies are boring,” she sighs. “Besides, I’m not in the mood.”

“Something wrong?” I ask, taking a seat on a chair.

Helen looks up from her phone, biting her lips. “There’s this one girl at school who’s getting on my nerves. She’s telling everyone to stop being my friend cause I’m ugly.”

“Why is she doing that? Have you told her to stop?”

“Yeah, I have but she only does it cause she found out we like the same boy.”

“A bit early to start worrying about boys, no?”

“It was going to happen someday.”

I rest my chin on my palm, “Anything I could do to help you with this girl?”

Helen shakes her head, “It’s okay cause nobody believes her. She’s just being annoying. She thinks she’s so cool 'cause her parents told her she’s going to grow up faster than all of us.”

“Just as long as you never believe it. There’s going to be a lot more girls trying to bring you down as you get older.”

I wish I had someone to tell me that when I was her age. At least I’m around to be someone Helen can look up to.

We don’t do much for the rest of the day. Helen spends it all with her videos while I spend mine constantly messaging and replying to people.

The actual planning of my birthday party begins. I somehow managed to dodge out of planning it myself. Everyone does it for me and barely bothers to ask for my input. It’s just what I believed. It’s not happening for me, but rather, I’m just the excuse.

If that’s the case, why would I have one if I already have everything I wanted?

There’s nothing left to prove.