So this is my post for No Kiss Blogfest. It's a scene from a work in progress called The Twenty-seven Jewel Movement. It's YA sci-fi, borderline fantasy, I s'pose.
Here's a quick unofficial synopsis:
There are countless other worlds. Some are just like ours, some are very different.
In the town of Roca Loca, New Mexico, fifteen year-old Jojo Rath just wants to take care of her brother, Elliott, and kill digital zombies online until the pain of her father's death goes away. But when her uncle gives her a mysterious watch, strange things start happening. Why is there a girl in Austin who looks exactly like her? And what is the thread of blue light in the desert that beckons her in the night?
And... here is the No Kiss Blogfest scene:
"Jo,
tell me what happened in there." Maron kept glancing at her as
he sped down Route 10. Jojo was hunched in her seat, hugging her
knees, staring at the button-eyed voodoo doll hanging in the
pick-up's rearview as it swung back and forth.
"Did
you see her?" Jojo said.
"Who?"
"My
mother."
"Your
mother? Like your actual mother?"
Jojo
closed her eyes and saw her mother's face again; a little softer than
she remembered, a little less lined. Her mother, who had abandoned
her, somehow living in a house with a girl identical to Jojo.
"I
saw her. I talked to her. It was her,
but just a little different.” Jojo swallowed the lump in
her throat. She pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down over her
wrists. “I don't understand what's going on."
“I
don't get it. Why would your mom be in Austin?”
“None
of it makes sense.”
Maron
rubbed his eyes and sighed. “I keep wanting to say, maybe you were
seeing things. But if you were, so was I. 'Cause I also saw the
girl who looked exactly like you.”
“Frack
that. She was
me.”
She leaned her head against the seat and gazed out at the endless
miles of desert. “Don't be shy about it. I know you think I'm crazy
anyway.”
“Sure,
but I always thought you were crazy.” He sneaked a faint smile at
her and she rolled her eyes at him, smirking. A jolt of pain shot up
her arm and her breath caught. He squeezed her shoulder. "Are
you alright? You don't look so good. Is something wrong with your
arm?"
"No.”
It took all her self control not to scream. She bit her lip until
she thought she might draw blood. “I'm fine. I'll be fine.”
They
were silent as Maron drove and the radio played Portishead. Jojo
felt nauseous and her head was starting to ache. Maron took an exit
at Fort Stockton and she looked up, alarmed.
"We
gotta grab some coffee somewhere," Maron said. "I've
driven like five hundred miles today, my brain is scrambled."
"Okay.
Do you think we're gonna get home in time, so you don't get in
trouble?"
"Not
a chance. I just hope they don't ground me through Loca Fest."
Jojo
didn't say anything as Maron pulled into the parking lot of a diner
next to a gas station. She hopped out of the truck and her Chucks
crunched on the gravel. Night was coming on and the desert was
getting cold. She gazed blankly at the retro diamond shaped letters
spelling Restaurant. Roadside diners were so reliable. She clapped
her hands to her face when a sob surged into her throat. Maron
locked the truck and trotted to her side.
"I'm
so sorry!” She burst out. She pressed her sweat-shirted wrists
into her eyes as if she could shove the tears back inside. It was
embarrassing. She hated crying in front of people, particularly
Maron. Her life was so depressing and weird. She never wanted him
to think that she, as a person, was depressing and weird. "I'm
so sorry I dragged you into this. You're going to get in trouble and
it's all my fault. I'm just going crazy and I don't know what's
happening to me."
She
felt his hands rest on her shoulders. “Hey... Hey, Jo. Come on,
it's okay.”
She
shook her head like a little girl and he pulled her hands away from
her eyes. Jojo blinked at him until the dark splotches cleared and
she was looking at his mop of disagreeable dark curls and too wide
mouth.
"Don't
worry about me. So I get grounded, it's no big deal. What's
happening with you, that's a big deal. And I don't know what this
is, but...” He squeezed her hands and Jojo searched his sad brown
eyes. Maron always seemed happy and easy going enough when he was
talking to other people. When he talked to her lately, he always
looked a little sad. “It's gonna be alright.”
Jojo
couldn't help but titter at that. “People keep saying that to me.
It's going to be alright.” She shrugged and stared down at their
tangled hands. “But it never is.”
“Fair
enough. But even if it's not, I'll always be here.” He wrapped
his arms around her and she sighed into the familiar embrace. He
was tall enough to rest his chin on top of her head. Lanky, tall,
dependable Maron with the calloused guitar fingers. He leaned back
and smiled down at her. "I'll always be here for you. Okay?
You're never getting rid of me, Jo. You'll have to kill me."
Jojo
gave him a shaky smile. "You're too good a friend, you know
that? You throw off the curve for everybody else."
Maron
brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. They were standing
very close. Just kiss me, she thought. Please kiss me. He got
closer, just a little closer.
He
whispered, “Jo...” His lips brushed her forehead and she tipped
her head up. A ghost of warm breath touched her lips as he pressed
forward. A burst of white hot pain shot up her arm and she gasped,
falling back against the truck. The pain was so extreme, she
trembled and held her arm like it was broken.
Maron's
eyes were big. He stepped forward and cupped her cheek, all concern.
"Seriously, what is wrong with your arm? This has been going
on all day."
"Nothing,"
she breathed. She forced a smile. "I fell this morning and I
have a bruise, that's all." She backed away, trying very hard
not fall down. "I'm just gonna go inside. To the bathroom.
Get us a table."
“Jo...”
She
walked backwards away from him and shrugged. “It's gonna be
alright.”
-END!