A Purple Winter

Chapter 3-2

The phone was ringing somewhere.

I sat up in my bed and wiped the drool off my cheek. I glimpsed the crumpled Kleenexes on my nightstand.

I must have fallen asleep after my m**********n marathon.

“Derek, phone!” my mother yelled upstairs. “And I made dinner!”

Dinner? I stood and the room spun around me. Hadn’t eaten since lunch. What time was it now? It was dark out. I shuffled my bare feet to the phone in the next room. The basement wasn’t finished, except for my bedroom, and the floor was concrete out here—cold against the soles of my feet. Drowsily, I lifted the receiver off the hook.

“Derek, baby, what are you doing?” Aunt Fran’s voice seemed so far away. Where was she now? What country was she visiting? I couldn’t remember.

I hadn’t even answered really, so how could she know it was me? “Hi…” I couldn’t recall when we’d last spoke. As a matter-of-fact, I didn’t remember our last conversation. But I missed her. “Where are you?” I didn’t stutter as much when I spoke to Aunt Fran. Maybe it was because she never hurried me.

“Okay, listen to me, Derek. Are you listening to me?” She sounded upset, nearly frantic. “You’re not doing this thing right. You’re repeating the same mistakes you made before. Being quiet and hesitant. That’s not gonna get you anywhere.”

“What?” I blinked, feeling dizzier and dizzier. I had to sit down. The couch springs dug into my thighs and butt. My head was heavy.

“Look, I know you think you don’t stand a chance with Nick Lund, but believe me, baby, you don’t know how wrong you are about that. So, so wrong. And you need to go after him now. Do you understand? Your time is running out. What are you waiting for? Go get that blond bombshell.”

I leaned back against the old gray couch. What was wrong with me? I felt woozy. Or sleepy again. “He doesn’t—he’s interested in girls and maybe David Pinet,” I said, my eyes closing.

“No, see, no. Der, no. David was always a special friend to Nick, but, hon, you can’t let that stop you from going after Nick.” She paused. “Are you listening to this?”

I couldn’t keep my eyes open.

“Derek, he’s afraid of you, don’t you understand? He’s always been afraid of you. He fears the power you hold over him. That’s why he runs from you sometimes when you get too close.” She let out a loud breath. “Stand up.”

How did she know I was sitting? Where was she calling me from?

“Stand up and go to the mirror in your bedroom.”

Confused and weary, I obeyed. “Where are you?” I asked again.

“Far away. It doesn’t matter. Now go and stand in front of that mirror.”

Slowly, I walked to the wall mirror hanging behind my door and looked at myself.

“You’re sixteen years old, Derek. Look at your gorgeous face. Now look at your eyes. They’re like opal. Enchanting as a Celtic fairy tale. Now look at your chest. Your thighs. You’re not a little boy anymore, can’t you see? He wants you. He can barely contain himself. He’s trying to keep control, but he thinks about you all the time. Go get him. Change the story, but come back.”

“What are you saying?”

“Cast your spell. Make him swoon. And don’t let him leave with David.”

“Where’s he going?” I stared into my own eyes, that déjà vu feeling rushing over me again.

“Nowhere, if you get your way.”

“Aunt Fran?”

But the line went dead. And then I was asleep again.