Page 1 of Torn

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Jolie

August 22nd, 1999

Vermilion Parish, Louisiana

“He loves me,he loves me not…”

My friend Elena pulled two silky petals off a lilac-colored daisy she’d picked out of my mom’s favorite garden. She paused to wipe a bead of sweat off her pretty face and glanced up at me to see if I was still watching.

I nodded at her to show her I was, and then I peered over at the boy she liked. Adam Landry. He was the son of one of my father’s close friends, and he was also in the first grade with us at our school in the nearby town of Amiens. He was lanky with scruffy blond hair, and he was currently picking his nose and smearing his dirty finger on his shorts.

I wrinkled my own nose. I wasn’t sure what Elena saw in Adam, or any other boy. Boys had germs. At least that’s what I’d heard from most of the other girls at school. It made sense. From what my mom had told me, germs had something to do with colds and dirt and sticky things, and most of the boys I knew from church or school fitted that description. They liked to play in dirt and grass, and they never wiped their faces properly.

A lot of them were loud and silly, too. My father always said boys were much smarter than girls because that’s how God built people to be, but so far, I hadn’t seen much evidence of that. I did better in class than a lot of the boys in my grade, and Elena was even smarter. No one could ever beat her. She seemed to know the answer to everything, and I’d even heard a rumor that she was going to be put up a grade next year. Our teacher always described her as seven going on seventy, because she was so wise and knowledgeable.

“He doesn’t love me.” She gazed gloomily down at the ruined flower in her hand, her shoulders slumping.

“It’s okay. Dolls are better anyway,” I declared. “They don’t pick their noses.”

She giggled and yanked another flower out of the garden bed. “Maybe that was just a bad daisy. I’ll try again.”

I smiled patiently and watched her as sweat dripped down my neck and back, dampening my white Sunday dress. I didn’t really want to be out here in the sweltering summer heat, but my father had organized a spiritual retreat for our church this weekend, so I had to be a good girl and attend every single event, including today’s outside luncheon after the prayer sessions.

A massive white marquee tent had been erected a few feet away from the garden I was standing in. Most of the families from church were milling around or sitting in there, chatting and eating from the buffet tables my parents had set up in the center of the tent. Elena and I had been in there for a while earlier, but it was actually even hotter and stuffier under the marquee than it was outside in the garden because of all the other people.

As much as it annoyed me that I’d lost my whole weekend to this boring stuff when I could be playing or reading in my cool air-conditioned bedroom instead, I suppose it made sense for the retreat to be held here on our family estate, given how big it was.

Before he started preaching and building his own church community, my father had been a very successful businessman. Because of all his hard work back then, we lived on a huge ranch property with a restored plantation mansion sitting in the center of it all. The ranch took up many thousands of acres with expansive sugarcane fields, murky swamps and large patches of woods surrounded by stretches of green grass. More space than anyone could possibly need.

The house was also far too big for just my parents and me. I loved growing up in it anyway, because it made me feel like a princess every day. It was white with huge pillars and a wide balcony running along the outside edges, and the main entrance had a huge carved arch over it which made it look like a grand palace doorway from one of my storybooks.

The inside was just as nice with sweeping stairways and huge rooms. My father had carefully decorated the place with expensive furniture and artwork. He always said we had been blessed with such a beautiful home because our God had chosen him as his messenger and given us many gifts in return for his service. I wasn’t sure if that was true or not, because my mother didn’t like the house anywhere near as much. She said she thought it was haunted, rather than some sort of gift from above.

I’d asked her what she meant by that a few months ago, and all she said was that bad things used to happen in places like this. She said I would learn all about it soon, but for now, she wanted me to have another year or so of what she called ‘blissfully-ignorant innocence’. She said she thought all children deserved to have that.

“He loves me!” Elena crowed triumphantly, holding up the newly-stripped flower. Her blue eyes were lit with joy. “Now we need to find a boy for you!”

I folded my arms. “I told you, I like my dolls better. I don’t really want a boyfriend.”

She pressed on anyway. “What about Danny? He’s the same age as us and he’s cute.”

I shrugged. “He’s okay, I guess. But I don’t like him like that.”

As I spoke, I raised my eyes over Elena’s shoulder and looked down our long driveway. It was lined on either side with live oak trees which seemed to reach toward each other across the road with their long, twisting branches. Spanish moss hung off them like a flimsy green curtain, swaying in the gentle breeze. I’d always loved the way the oak alley looked, but that wasn’t why I was staring now. An unfamiliar black car was making its way down the drive, stirring up dust as it drew closer.

“Who’s that?” I asked, squinting in the harsh sunlight.

Elena turned around and glanced at the car. “I don’t know. I thought all the families were already here.”

We watched as two adults got out along with a tall boy I assumed was their son. He was much older than us—probably fifteen or sixteen—and I drew in a sharp breath as I caught sight of him. Maybe boys weren’t so gross after all. This one was clean and looked like he could be a model in a clothing catalog.

His hair was dark, almost black, and he was tanned with a broad chest and strong arms. I couldn’t see his eyes from where I was standing, but I could see the general features of his face, and it made my heart feel fluttery. My legs wobbled slightly and my tummy started to feel funny. Suddenly I completely understood the appeal of having a boyfriend.

Was this what Elena meant when she said she loved Adam?

“Wow,” she said breathlessly, echoing my thoughts. “He’s way cuter than Danny. He should be your boyfriend instead.”

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