Free Remembrance (The Transcend Time Saga) by Michelle Madow Page A

him.    
     
    * * *
     
    The screen of my cell phone lit up at noon the next day, letting me know I had a new text message. I didn’t want to be interrupted from reading Pride and Prejudice for the second time, but I rolled over to see what it said.
    We’ll pick you up at 4:30 .
    It was simple and to the point, and judging from the unfamiliar number, I assumed it came from Shannon. If not, I would see who came by my house at 4:30 and go with it. Maybe it would be Mr. Darcy coming to pick me up in an extravagant horse-drawn carriage, but I couldn’t picture Mr. Darcy using a cell phone.  
    Chelsea told me that Drew agreed to go with her to the game, and not wanting to feel like a third wheel with them, I texted Shannon back saying I’d be ready soon. Shannon and her friends wore jerseys to every game, but not wanting to freeze to death on top of being bored and stuck with the cheerleader wannabe’s, I opted for a comfortable purple sweatshirt on top of a white long-sleeved shirt. Shielding myself against the cold weather was more important than showing school spirit. I let my hair hang loose over my shoulders, since it would also help protect my face against the wind.
    “Elizabeth!” my mom screamed from downstairs. “Your friends just pulled up!”
    “Alright!” I yelled back, unsure if she heard. I did one last glance in the mirror before grabbing my bag and heading out of the house.
    Pop music blared from the open windows of the silver Lexus SUV, and Shannon sat in the driver’s seat, smearing brown war paint in thick lines on her cheeks. The school colors of brown and white were unfortunate; it looked like she grabbed fresh mud and splattered it all over her face. Amber sat in the passenger seat, her face painted in a similar way.
    Keelie stuck her head out the back window. “Where’s your school spirit?” she asked, her hair blowing in front of her face from the wind. Just as I’d expected, the three of them wore brown and white jerseys over long-sleeved shirts, which I doubted would keep them warm. My purple sweatshirt would stick out like a grape in the dirt.
    “I’m wearing white under my sweatshirt,” I said, hoping they would drop it.
    “We can wait for you to change,” she said. “We’re early, anyway.”
    It was more of a command than a suggestion, and not worth the energy to argue. “I’ll be back out in a few minutes,” I told her over my shoulder, turning around and heading back inside. 
    My brown jersey was in the back of my closet, and I managed to dig it out and throw it on top of my shirt, hoping the sun would stay out so the temperature wouldn’t drop too much during the game. There wasn’t much room for jackets on the cramped bleachers—you either had to wear it or put it near everyone’s feet.
    If it did get cold, perhaps I could leave early in the pretense of catching hypothermia.
    Once changed, I trudged out of the house and into the car, sitting in the back next to Keelie. She was applying face paint in thick lines on her cheeks to match Shannon and Amber. The brown matched the color of her hair, so she didn’t look quite as ridiculous as they did.
    “Do you want some paint?” She held up the tube and squeezed some onto her finger, preparing to smudge some on my face. I was about to say no, but remembering how Jeremy wanted me to try being friends with them, I nodded and allowed her to smear two mirrored lines along my cheekbones. I felt like an Indian at a pow-wow.
    “How come I’ve never seen you at the games before?” she asked, twisting the cap on the tube and tossing it in her bag.
    “I usually sit in the back of the bleachers with Chelsea,” I answered.
    “Oh.” She seemed at a loss of words, although I was glad she was trying.
    “They better win,” Shannon announced, turning the music down so we could hear her. “I don’t want Warren getting upset like he did after the Manchester Prep game.”
    The three girls talked for the rest of the car ride,