Stella Maris (The Legendary Rosaries) Read online

  “No, I’m fine here,” Christopher responded, taking the seat in front of me, already having told the guy sitting there to move.

  “It’s far from fine,” Mr. Stanton retorted. His cheeks were all puffed out, looking like he was going to huff and puff and blow Christopher down. “You can either come here now or you’ll be seating yourself outside the principal’s office again.”

  Without a word, Christopher picked up his bag and headed to where the teacher had pulled out a chair. He sat down and leaned back in it. As soon as Mr. Stanton turned to the blackboard, Christopher looked over his shoulder and blew me a kiss.

  The class broke out in laughter. But by the time Mr. Stanton turned to see what had happened, Christopher was facing forward as though he’d done nothing, his behaviour not boding well for me. I just hoped he behaved at the confirmation class tonight, especially since our parents would be there.

  ***

  I pulled on my jeans, then tucked the Maris rosary under my shirt, annoyed that Janet kept on moving the confirmation classes. First it was on Sunday, then on Friday, now Monday. It was annoying to say the least. Or maybe I was annoyed because I didn’t want to be there, and especially not with both Mum and Christopher’s dad going. Grumbling about it, I picked up my brush and dragged it through my hair, also worried about seeing Christopher. I’d avoided him for the rest of the day, worried he was going to do something stupid—which he did. It was just lucky it was during art class, because at least Mr. Glenmore didn’t send him to the principal’s office. Though, he did send him to the small art room, because he wouldn’t do his work, more interested in chatting me up.

  “Catherine!” Mum called out. “I’ll be waiting in the car.”

  “Okay! Coming!” I dropped the brush, and was down the stairs and in the station wagon within seconds. Once I had my seatbelt on, Mum backed out and headed down the hill. Five minutes later, we were at Saint Dominic’s church. I spotted Christopher walking up the embankment to the little school behind it, his dad following him. Mum mumbled a gruff comment about him, then climbed out of the station wagon. I followed her to the classroom, sitting down next to Nicky and her mum. After everyone had said their hellos and how are yous, Janet launched into her agenda for the night.

  “This is our last lesson before the rehearsal on Sunday,” she said, looking even more perkier than usual, her blonde hair a mass of newly permed curls. “So please be aware that you’ll need to give us your new Catholic name, if you have not done so already. As I said in our first class, you should choose the name from a saint that you feel a connection to.” She smiled in her overly fervent way. “Now, can every candidate and their sponsor please couple up with another pair, to discuss the questions that are printed on the handout.”

  Before I could turn to Nicky and her mum, Christopher bolted out of his seat and was in front of my mum in the blink of an eye, startling a surprised yelp out of her.

  “Sorry, Mrs. Lovich,” he said. “I didn’t mean to give you a fright, I just wanted to see if you and Catherine would pair up with me and my father.”

  She bit her lip, looking like she desperately wanted to say no, but instead nodded her head, my mum hating to appear rude.

  Grabbing his chair, Christopher sat down right in front of me, while his dad sat in front of Mum, the two of them looking distinctly uncomfortable.

  Mum shifted about in her seat. “I think it’s best if we move on from what has happened. There’s no need for all this tension.” She thrust a hand out for Christopher’s dad to shake.

  He looked down at it, for a second making me worry that he wasn’t going to shake it, no one allowed to upset Mum. But thankfully, he seemed to change his mind, giving her hand a couple of shakes before letting go.

  A smile crossed Mum’s face. She sat up straighter as though she’d solved all of our problems with one short handshake. “Well,” she said. “We should—”

  Her sentence was cut off by Janet appearing by her side, holding out some sheets of paper. Mum took them and thanked Janet, who moved onto the next group.

  Mum handed a sheet out to everyone in our group, then looked down at hers. “It says that we need to discuss about why Jesus died, and whether it was important for him to do this, in order to save us.”

  “Everyone needs to die at some point or another,” Christopher’s dad piped up, staring directly at me. “And that was no different for Jesus, though in his case, he had to die to save others.”

  “I agree,” Mum said, looking up from the piece of paper, not having seen the way Christopher’s dad had been looking at me. “And through his death, he defeated it, rising up, showing us that we can become immortal through our faith.”

  Hearing Mum’s comment, Janet turned around to our group. “That’s a nice way of putting it, Mrs. Lovich,” she said, patting Mum on the shoulder. “Also, remember that he died so that our sins could be washed away.” Smiling widely, she turned back to Nicky’s group, which included Stephen and his mum, who was a drop-dead gorgeous blonde bombshell.

  “Exactly right,” Christopher’s dad agreed, glancing at me.

  Christopher threw a sidelong glare at him. “I think Jesus having to die for us was unfair. Why should someone die when it’s not them who caused the problem? The ones who committed the sins should be punished.”

  His dad raised a brow, obviously picking up on the undertones. “You forget, figlio, that when we’re born we inherit the sins of Adam and Eve. Everyone is a sinner, no one is truly innocent. Jesus understood this, and sacrificed himself for our future.”

  “What a load of bull crap!” Christopher snapped, bolting out of his chair, drawing everyone’s attention. They were looking at him like he was an alien with three heads.

  I grabbed his hand, tugging at it. “Sit down, Chris, this is not the appropriate place to lose your temper.”

  “Sì, figlio, it’s only a discussion,” his dad added. “No need for a heated debate.” He smiled apologetically at Mum, ignoring his son’s dark looks.

  Janet clapped her hands together, thankfully drawing the attention away from Christopher. “Now, can everyone please move their chairs back into a circle?” she said. “I would like to discuss what each group has learned.” She apprehensively glanced at Christopher, obviously cutting the smaller group discussions short because of him.

  The sounds of scraping chairs and shoes reigned while everyone formed a circle. Pulling my chair to Christopher’s side, I placed a hand on his back, trailing a finger up and down his lower spine, hoping it would comfort him. A small smile replaced his frown. Mum tapped my leg disapprovingly, but I didn’t stop, more concerned with keeping Christopher calm than what she thought was improper.

  After the discussion had finished, Janet reminded everyone again about their name choices. When the group got up to leave, Christopher grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the classroom before our parents could react. He tugged me down the grass embankment and around the side of the church, stopping in front of the beautiful stained glass of Saint Dominic.

  “I’m sorry for my father’s comments,” he said.

  “He was saying that I had to sacrifice myself for your family’s future, wasn’t he?” I asked, pretty sure I was right.

  Christopher glowered. “My famiglia won’t have a future if they harm you. I’ll make them pay if my grandfather raises a hand against you.”

  I went to reply, but was cut off by Mum calling out my name on the other side of the church. “We better get back to our parents, or my mum will go ape and get all overprotective again.”

  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He gave me a quick kiss before disappearing around the corner.

  I headed in the opposite direction, aiming for Mum’s station wagon, raised voices stopping me short. I looked over to see what was happening just as Mr. Laboure pushed Christopher roughly into their car. Slamming the door shut, Mr. Laboure stormed around to the driver’s side. Just before climbing in, he noticed me looking. Sneering at me, he sl
ammed his door shut, then pulled out of the car park in a hurry.

  Mum appeared by my side, shaking her head in disapproval. “That man is truly horrible.” She took hold of my arm and steered me towards our station wagon. “I know you like that boy, but he’s not good boyfriend material, even more so with a father like that.” She let go of my arm to unlock the station wagon.

  I walked around to the passenger side. “Chris is nothing like his dad.” Or granddad. “You can’t blame him for that,” I said, climbing in.

  She slipped in behind the wheel. “He seems pretty volatile to me, and right now, I’m not too happy with you for taking off with him. I don’t want to ground you again, but—”

  “We didn’t do anything, and you can’t ground me just because he wanted a word in private. He was apologising for his dad.”

  “Why should he apologise for him? The man was actually civil inside.”

  “Not with the glares and undertones he was giving me. That’s why Christopher got mad. His dad still blames me for the reserve incident.”

  She made a harrumphing sound. “Well, you did lack judgement, but if anyone’s to blame, it’s his son.”

  “Mum.”

  “It’s true!” She pulled on her seatbelt and started the engine, the ride home uncomfortably quiet.

  Chapter 41

  ~ CATHERINE ~

  Tuesday the 27th of June, 1989

  I woke from a dreamless sleep, feeling refreshed for once. I pulled back the curtains to be greeted by a stunning bright blue sky and our neighbour’s dog. Happy to see me, the Alsatian barked excitedly, his tail wagging overtime. I shushed him, then jumped out of bed and got dressed, heading into the kitchen a few ticks later.

  “Morning!” I chirped, pulling my hair into a ponytail.

  “Sounds like you slept well,” Mum replied, taking a sip of her coffee. She was sitting at the table with Dad, who had his face buried in the newspaper. He grunted “Morning” at me, his sleep obviously not so good.

  “Yup, a great sleep,” I replied, for once not sneaking out to train, needing a full sleep instead. I walked over to the bread bin and pulled out two wholemeal slices, slotting them into the toaster. “I’m going to karate tonight with Nicky.”

  Mum snorted out a laugh. “How did you talk her into that?”

  “It wasn’t too hard,” I answered as honestly as I could. “I think she just wants to spend more time with me.”

  I poured myself a large glass of orange juice while the bread toasted, gulping down half of its pulpy goodness. Once the toast had popped, I smothered it with peanut butter. Instead of going to the breakfast table, I leaned against the bench and jammed the toast in my mouth.

  Mum twisted in her seat to look at me. “I’m assuming Nicky will bring her new car?”

  “New is the overstatement of the century. It’s a beat-up yellow Mini, with a bad gearshift that’s only going to get worse, because she grates it all the time. But yeah, she’s bringing her new car.” I laughed and drained the rest of the juice, washing down the last of my toast. “And there’s no need to take me to school today if you don’t want to. I’m okay to walk.”

  She shook her head. “No, I’m driving you whether you like it or not. Plus, I’ve got to pop in to see the mechanics.”

  “What’s wrong with the wagon?”

  “The radiator’s acting up.”

  “Okay, just got to brush my teeth first.” I headed out of the room, doing just that, then grabbed my bag. Slinging it over a shoulder, I strolled downstairs to the station wagon. Mum was already there, opening her door. She got behind the wheel and started the engine. I climbed in after her, buckling up. As she backed out of the driveway, bright sunlight streamed through the windscreen, making me squint, but not for long, Mum arriving at school in no time.

  I hopped out and waved at her as she left, ignoring the other students staring at me. Ever since the reserve incident, I felt like I was being put under a magnifying glass, everything I did with Christopher made out to be bigger than it was. It was uncomfortable to say the least, something I wished would blow over quick.

  As I walked to my form room a group of Stephen’s rugby mates waved at me to come over. I waved at them back—just with my middle finger. They burst out laughing, one of them hollering, “Can you tutor me in Sex ED?”

  I clenched my hand and continued walking, wishing I could punch the smirk off the douchebag’s stupid face. But adding battery to wagging would just get me grounded again, not to mention suspended or expelled.

  I entered my form room, noticing that Christopher wasn’t here yet. I sat down next to Stephen, giving him a sidelong glare. “Your mates are douchebags,” I said.

  He didn’t reply, just smirked at me, obviously finding my comment funny. His long blond hair was pulled back into a ponytail today, emphasizing his high cheekbones. What Nicky had said about him possibly being a Merge ran through my mind, her point valid. He really was quite beautiful, his bone structure too good to be true. But it was his violet eyes that were the most extraordinary, so bright, so unreal. Now knowing what I did about Merges, he honestly looked like an angel, a Terra one in particular.

  His smile widened. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

  I scowled at him. “I’m not interested in you, dickwad.”

  He snorted out a laugh and leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, yeah, you’re in loove with Chris.”

  I went to say that I wasn’t in love, but the bell rang right at that moment, making me jump in my seat. Mr. Stanton entered the room a split second later. The preppy students sat up straighter, Kylie not one of them. She continued chatting to her friend Tanya. Mr. Stanton bellowed at her to be quiet, getting an offended look from the girl, who probably thought she’d done nothing wrong.

  He started calling out the roll. When he came to Christopher’s name, Stephen answered instead, “He’s sick; his dad said that he won’t be in today.”

  “Well, I hope he remembers there’s the swim comp tomorrow,” Mr. Stanton replied.

  “He hates swimming, so no worries,” Stephen answered with a smirk. “He’s scared of water.”

  The boys sniggered, while the girls shook their heads or rolled their eyes, probably thinking that Stephen was just talking crap. Though, knowing Christopher, it sounded about right.

  I focused on Stephen as Mr. Stanton continued to call out names. “What’s wrong with Chris? Is he all right after last night?” I whispered, referring to what had happened after the confirmation class.

  He frowned, for the first time looking dead serious. “I’m not sure whether I should say anything, it’s a family matter.”

  “I’m his girlfriend, so I should know.”

  Stephen glanced at Mr. Stanton, then back at me, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Do you know that Chris’ dad knocks him about?”

  “He mentioned they had a fight once.”

  “Not just once. It’s why my mum wants custody of Chris. She got so upset last night. She really ripped into my uncle, screaming at him over the phone. She kept yelling that he shouldn’t have done that. I asked her what that was, but she burst into tears and took off in her car.” He shook his head, genuine concern furrowing his brow. “I just hope that my uncle didn’t take things too far this time.”

  “What do you mean by too far?”

  “Just put it this way, I wouldn’t be surprised if Chris is in hospital.”

  ***

  The sound of honking came from my driveway. I quickly ran down the stairs and out the front door. I threw my bag into the back of Nicky’s car and jumped in, desperate to see Christopher. I’d rung his house, but every single time his grandfather answered, and every single time I hung up without saying a word. It had turned me into a bundle of nerves, so worried that Christopher had been hurt badly. The only thing that had stopped me from turning up on his front doorstep was the hope that he would still show tonight.

  “Do you think Chris’ll be there if he’s sick?” Nicky asked, r
eversing out.

  “I don’t think he’s sick. Stephen told me that Chris’ dad might’ve beat him up.”

  She swung the car around. “You serious?”

  “Wish I wasn’t.”

  “Stephen never mentioned anything to me about this,” she said, looking shocked.

  “It’s not exactly something anyone would want to talk about.”

  “True, but I still think he should’ve told me.” She yanked on the gearshift to move forward.

  “Take it easy, Nicky, you’re going to ruin the gears if you keep doing that.”

  “I know, I know. Manuals are such a pain in the arse. Wish I’d got an automatic instead.” She accelerated, thankfully not grating the gears to do it.

  My nerves steadily grew as we neared our destination—the bus shed, where we were meant to pick Christopher up from. It wasn’t long before we got there, my relief at seeing him massive. He was sitting on the bus shed’s bench, the street light casting shadows across his hunched-over form. Nicky honked the horn, not getting a reaction.

  Worried, I hopped out of the Mini. “Chris?”

  He still didn’t look up, just kept staring down at his feet. Bobbing down in front of him, I placed a hand under his chin and lifted it. A bluish-purple bruise framed his left eye, with a Band-Aid underneath it. He also had a swollen cheek and one hell of an upset expression. He averted his eyes, unable to hold my gaze.

  I sat down next to him. “You okay?”

  He shook his head.

  “Why did your dad hit you?”

  “Because I hit him first,” he replied, finally looking at me. “He was a bastard to you last night, with his stupid double meanings and glares. He was stupid to think I wouldn’t react to that.”

  “Oh, Chris, I hate seeing you hurt,” I said, pulling him into a hug.

  He drew me even closer. “My mother was livid with the both of us. I’ve never heard her yell so much. I couldn’t take it, so I took off. That’s why I wasn’t at school today.”

  “Where did you go?”