8 a surprisingly good day

"Lena, what are you doing next to my study?" Father asks.

"I um nothing.", I say, my voice trembling.

"Then why are you standing there?" he asks, his voice increasing considerably.

"I heard some noise here, and worried if it was a burglar.", I say, making up something, anything to get out of this situation safely.

"That's impossible.", he huffs, and walks past me, his hand on the door.

"See, the door's locked.", he says, applying pressure on the handle of the door. To his surprise, the handle gives away, and he looks at me, alarmed.

"Lena, what in God's name is going on here?" he asks sternly.

"Father I told you, I heard some noises and thought it was a burglar so I came to check on it. I didn't do anything, trust me.", I say, pleading.

"You came down here, all on your own, without telling your parents, and nothing to guard yourself? Lena, this is very unsafe, I'll go check inside.", he says, with unexpected concern.

I look at him, confused with his behavior. That was nothing like how he usually reacts. Strange. He walks in and inspects the room, and he finds no one, of course.

"Are you sure you heard the noise come from here?", he asks.

"Yes, Father, I'm sure.", I say.

"Well go to sleep for now, we'll check up on this later.", he says, and heads to the kitchen, to get a glass of water.

I sigh in relief, my adrenaline rush fading away, suddenly feeling tired. I stumble upstairs, to my room, and fall face forward into my warm bed.

Seconds after, I fall into a deep slumber, grateful that I don't have to go to school tomorrow.

**************************

12th September 1970

Saturday

I wake up some time around noon, the soreness from last night almost killing me. [over exaggerating is a good hobby of mine]

I am surprised Mother let me sleep for this long. Father must've definitely sweet talked her from not waking me up by throwing cold water across my face. I sigh, happily, proud that I got my hands onto the tape. Now all I have to do is get the VCR, play it, and find out the man.

Easier said than done.

I freshen up, choosing a daisy printed sundress with some white sandals. I plan to visit Jess, maybe after sating my growling stomach. And maybe some beach air after that? I mean it's a beautiful day outside, surely I can't waste it by sitting in my room.

I yawn again, and walk downstairs, to the kitchen, my breakfast in a cold plate, the eggs and bacon looking almost sad. I reheat the breakfast, a smile on my face.

Some days are just good days for no particular reason, and today is one such day.

Mother has her knitting meeting today afternoon, and Father locked himself up in his study. I figure that stealing [borrowing, more like] Father's VCR is an impossible feat today. I decide that I'll borrow Jess's, or maybe even watch the tape with her. That is if she's okay with it of course.

I polish my plate in second, chugging almost half a gallon of milk. I'm so frighteningly hungry these days. Mother would throw a fit if she knew that I started eating this much. Oh well, we're all fine until she finds out. I skip outside, leaving a note for Father if he decides to come out of his study, you know, just in case.

I remember to grab the tape before leaving, satisfied with the fruits of my efforts from last night. I walk up to Jess's house, praying that she's alright. I knock sharply, and Mrs. Smith calls out, "One second, darling."

"Take your time, Mrs. Smith", I yell back. She comes out a few minutes later, flour covering her apron and hands. "Oh dear, don't mind the mess that I've made. Come on in, Jess was asking for you just now.", she says, smiling brightly.

I walk in, impatient to meet my best friend. I run up the stairs, as politely as I could, and I rushed in to Jess's room. She lays on her stomach, writing something, her legs swinging.

"Hi Jess, how are you?" I ask, concerned.

"Hi, Lena, I'm fine. The doctor said that it'll all be okay with a few days of rest.", she says, smiling.

"That's wonderful then. I missed you so much at school. Gosh I got into a huge fight with Derek and his clone gang because they were huge dicks.", I say, filling her up on my life.

"Lena, I told you that they aren't worth it. It's not like they feel ashamed to be such jerks.", she says, shaking her head.

"Yeah I realized I overreacted. But it felt so good telling them exactly how I felt.", I say.

"Yeah I know you did. What's that tape you're holding? Did you pick up a movie for me?", she says, batting her lashes sarcastically.

"Erm about that.. I might've got the footage from your kidnapping.", I say hesitantly.

"You what!? How did you manage to do that? Wait, did you like break into the ATM CCTV storage area or something?", she asks jokingly.

I fidget with my fingers, refusing to meet her eyes.

"What? You did?!" she asks, absolutely shocked.

"Sort of.", I say sheepishly.

"No fucking way. This isn't the rule-abiding Lena Whitaker that I know. What possessed you to do that? You could go to juvie for that.", she says, whispering the last part, as if it were cursed.

"Only if I get caught.", I say cockily, and wink.

"Stop kidding around Lena, it's not funny.", she says sternly.

"Okay, okay, fine, Ms. Concerned, I won't pull off anything like this anymore.", I say, seriously meaning it.

"But I still have the tape with the terrible man. Want to watch it together?", I ask, shaking the tape in my hand.

"Yeah sure, you just want our VCR don't you?", she says, her eyebrows raising suspiciously.

"Yeah and that too.", I say laughing.

She laughs with me, and gets her VCR, her smile fading as she approaches me.

"Lena, I'm okay with watching it, but the moment my face or the man with the beard's fave is seen, I'll stop watching. I already have enough nightmares about him, as it is.", she says, the last part almost inaudible.

"Oh.", I say, feeling bad instantly. "It's okay if you don't want to watch it, I can find him out on my own.", I say softly.

"No. No, Lena, I want to help you. At least a little.", she says smiling angelically.

"You really don't have to, Jess, you went through all this because of me. I'll find him out on my own, Jess, I promise. I'll find him and ensure he rots in jail for life.", I say determinedly.

Before she could protest, I grab the VCR and leave, knowing that if I stayed longer she'd insist watching the tape with me. It's my mistake for asking her to do so, not knowing how traumatic it could be for her. I sigh, worrying whether taking the VCR would come off wrong. I mean, yeah it's Jess, she wouldn't mind, but I still feel bad about it.

I hurry home, impatient to find out who in their right mind would do something so horrible to a woman.

****************************

I have nothing.

I went through the footage a million times, frame by frame, second by second. Nothing. I run my fingers through my hair in frustration, worrying if all my hard work was for nothing. Surely, his face, or at least a trace of the van should be visible. This makes no sense.

I pace the dining room, thinking about the possible scenarios that could've occurred. Maybe it never occurred. No, stop. Jess wouldn't lie like that, especially over something as serious as this. Would she? No, stop, Lena, this is not being a good or supportive friend.

I look at the tape, the red marker showing 109. Maybe they marked a different day's tape as that of 10th September's. Yeah that makes more sense. But what could they have done to that day's tape? This is a question that can be answered only by the person that switches out the tapes. And to that I have a solution.

I rewind the tape, this time keeping my eyes open for the person switching out the tape. I hit another dead end, as the person's face is not seen. I get a glimpse of a white hat, and a royal blue polo, a man's lean torso being visible. I scream in frustration, worried that the man had checkmated all my moves.

I play the tape once again, and this time a van showing the ATM's name drives by. This means that the footage is of Sunday's. The van refills the money in the bank every Sunday. So, I have been wasting all my time all this afternoon. Again, it is not a big lead, but if I manage to get a hold of the dude who drives the van, I might have something to work with.

There's nothing I can particularly do right now. I return the VCR to Jess's house, and walk to the beach. It's a long walk, but today's a bright sunny day, a day that won't be there during the swiftly advancing winter. I don't have a swimsuit on, but at this time of the year, it would be rare to see anyone else on the beach. Showering with my underwear wouldn't be a problem then.

Half an hour later, I sink my feet into the warm sand, the sun glaring onto my face. Damn it, I might get sunburned at this rate. I walk along the coastline, my mind wandering to a variety of different things.

Whoever said that a good walk clears up your mind is not wrong.

After a bit, I decide to take a dip in the ocean. I strip, my dress and sandals resting well away from the shore. I then swim in, the cold water feeling like heaven. I swim swiftly, feeling at one with the ocean, the wind blowing fast. I sight a boat coming, a small fishing boat.

That's weird. No one goes fishing mid afternoon. I look closer, and I see a familiar torso. I squint harder, and I spot the only person that I didn't want to see. Yup you guessed it right, it's Elijah Valentine himself. I sigh, praying he doesn't spot me.

I swim lithely in the ocean, cutting across the water. A huge wave washes ashore, salt water entering my lungs. I splutter, coughing up all the seawater.

"Are you okay, miss?", I hear Valentine's voice from afar.

My nostrils burn, as water comes out through my mouth and nose, looking very unappealing, feeling just as bad. I show a thumb up, still sneezing violently.

"You don't seem like it.", he yells from a distance.

His boat reaches shore, a few feet away from where I stand spluttering like an idiot. He looks at me, all smiles, his sarcastic expression on his face. As soon as he realizes it's me, his smile drops, and he turns away ignoring me.

What's with him avoiding me? Can't he take a loss? I glance at him, the sun in my eyes. He turns his back to me, his broad and bare back glistening with sweat, or seawater, or both.

"Hey Valentine.", I call out.

He doesn't even flinch.

Okay jerk.

"Hey Valentine.", I call out louder this time.

He continues ignoring me, pretending he can't hear me.

"I know you hear me crystal clear, Elijah. Stop being such a wuss about the orchestra thing. Be a better sport dude, it's embarrassing.", I call out.

He whips his head, shock and amusement on his face.

"You really think..", he says, the rest of his sentence inaudible.

"What? I can't hear you.", I say.

"You really thought this was about the fest?", he says, and bursts out laughing. It was a stomach laugh, not the face level one that doesn't reach his eyes. He laughs so hard, his dimples making an appearance.

My stomach flops again. I ignore it, wondering why whether I have gas problems. He stops laughing, the musical sound replaced with the roar of the waves.

"Lord I haven't laughed like this in ages. I'm sorry.", he says, still smiling.

"That still isn't an explanation to why you're so hot and cold towards me, Valentine.", I say.

His expression hardens, his jaw visibly ticking. I swear I could almost hear his teeth grinding. Jeez, Elijah, relax.

"I don't owe you an explanation, Whitaker.", he says simply and walks away.

"What about your boat?", I yell, confused.

"It can wait.", he says, and walks away.

I stand there, unaware of what I had done to upset him.

Men. I sigh.

****************************

After a day at the beach, I relax completely for the first time in a bit.

I walk home, feeling all fresh and warm, the setting sun feeling like a blanket in a winter night. I reach home, only to the sound of yelling. My parents are at it again. I sigh deeply, and head upstairs, ensuring that I don't get caught up in the war zone.

I think about the student election that's taking place on Monday. Maybe I should take part in it, you know just in case I want to implement my murder mystery fundraiser idea. Especially that now I had ended up with nothing, after almost committing [not almost] a crime. I weigh the pros and cons of it in my head, and at this stage in my so called investigation, this seems like the best idea.

Not so effective. Not that feasible. And definitely not very realistic. But I should try at the very least. After all, it was my best and inly friend that went through something of this scale for me. Surely I should pay her back through my gestures.

But for this I require my parents' permission, and that's something that's unattainable at this moment. Besides I need to submit my entry as soon as possible, via a letter of course, because the elections are going to be held on Monday. I can't risk being too late. I sigh.

I really do have to work for something I need.

I quickly grab a pen and paper, scribbling away my entry, and the reasons why I would be a good Council President. All I need now, is an acknowledgment by my parents with their signatures and today's date. I walk downstairs, tiptoeing, scared about how the scene is going to unravel.

My palms sweaty, I walk downstairs, to Father's study, the source of all the noise. I knock on the door lightly, and upon them ignoring it, I knock louder.

"Come in.", Father says.

I walk in meekly, head bowed.

"Oh there she is, that ungrateful girl. What have you come begging for now? Pocket money?", she spits in my face.

I don't reply, feeling terrified in their presence. I somehow manage to muster up courage, and meekly raise my head. Judging by the scenario, Father is in a better mood, so he's going to be my best bet at escaping this study without getting thrashed.

"Father, I would like to join our school's Student Council.", I say, in the strongest tone that I could muster.

"Sorry I couldn't hear that Lena, speak up.", he says.

"I said I'd like to join the Student Council.", I say louder.

"Of course you'd like to. What does that have to do with us?", Mother interrupts.

"I need one of your signatures on this letter.", I say, showing them the paper in my hand.

They look at each other doubtfully, and Mother bursts out laughing.

"What would a girl do at a Council? Look pretty? Stop being ridiculous, Lena.", she says.

I don't let her words get to me, my eyes meeting Father's. I put on my puppy dog eyes, praying that this works on him.

"Please Father, I swear it will help in the future.", I say.

He sighs deeply, "But your mother has a point..", he begins.

My heart drops to my stomach, and I turn up my charm, and say, "Father I'll do your half of the dishes for a month. I promise."

That got to work.

"Okay fine, here you go.", he says, and signs the paper.

It worked.

And just like that, I managed to apply for the Council. The voting is not in my hands. But it still would be really embarrassing if I didn't win. But that's for another day.

Now I need to script my speech for the Council election. I go to my room, praying that I somehow gain the confidence to speak in front of thousands of students. If you already didn't know, teenagers are the most vicious creatures out there. One slip up, and you're deemed an outcast for the rest of your school year. That's definitely not what I'm going for here.

I get my pen and paper, scratching furiously, multiple ideas popping into my head. Should I be relatable and funny? Or cold and inspiring? Is it appropriate to make this joke? How can I appeal to most of the student population? What makes me a better President than the rest? And the best of all, why should they vote for me? All of these questions required to be answered within a three minute speech, all scripted by yourself, and delivered in front of a crowd.

I already had a panic attack trying to play the piano in front of twenty students, how could I possibly do it in front of two thousand? I pace the room, trying to cheer myself up with a pep talk. But I'm terrible at public speaking. Either I speak too fast, or too slow. Too much tonal inflection or too little. It's just not the right amount to seem quirky and relatable, but cold and inspiring at the same time.

I genuinely need some help with this speech. Maybe I should ask Jess. Or maybe I should ask Mother. I heard she was a national level debate champion. Surely she could give me some tips on how to be more bold on stage.

On a second thought, not. She's in a terrible mood right now, and besides she hates everything I do. If I go ask her for advise on this, she'll accuse me of wanting to copy her. I laugh at her hypocrisy, and go back to brainstorming ideas for my speech.

I need to win this election.

It's my last option in trying to help Jess.

It's the very least I can do.