The Smell of Lilacs: A Coming of Age Story

By Katie Marshall

At first glance, seventeen-year-old Mackenzie appears to be an average, teenage girl. Now going into her senior year, Mackenzie is trying her best to keep up her grades and stay out of the popular kids’ line of fire. With a younger sister who always seems to find trouble, a mother whose illness gets in the way of daily life and a friend whose dark secret has finally caught up with her, Mackenzie struggles to keep her life in control before it all comes crashing down around her. Will she be able to maintain that balance while walking the emotional tightrope she has placed on herself?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Katie Marshall
• Release date: Sep 10, 2021
• ISBN: 9780463266649

Katie Marshall

Katie Marshall is a graduate of the University of Maine at Farmington and author of 6 books in varying genres. She lives and works in Maine

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The Smell of Lilacs

A Coming-of-Age Story

By Katie Marshall

The Smell of Lilacs

Katie Marshall

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright©2021 Katie Marshall

Thank you for downloading this ebook. This book remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be redistributed to others for commercial or non-commercial purposes. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.

Dedication

To my parents, who always let me be myself,

and to all the neon fish of the world. You are in good company.

Table of Contents

Chapter One: Neon Fish

Chapter Two: Tomato Soup and Grilled Cheese

Chapter Three: The Demon from Within

Chapter Four: Flying

Chapter Five: Being Average

Chapter Six: The Rollercoaster

Chapter Seven: Barbies and Beethoven

Chapter Eight: Partners

Chapter Nine: Mt. Vesuvius

Chapter Ten: Meant to Be

Chapter Eleven: My Corny Life

Chapter Twelve: Halloween

Chapter Thirteen: Bohemian Rhapsody

Chapter Fourteen: Pink Ice Skates

Chapter Fifteen: Problem Solver

Chapter Sixteen: The Funeral

Chapter Seventeen: Move Your Butt

Chapter Eighteen: The Coward

Chapter Nineteen: The New Mackenzie

Chapter Twenty: Good People

Chapter Twenty-One: My Double Rainbow

Chapter Twenty-Two: Daisies and Tiaras

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Smell of Lilacs

Chapter One: Neon Fish

There were never enough days in summer vacation to prep myself for that inevitable return of the first day of school, which always propelled my life back into motion. I rolled onto my side and pulled my comforter back, allowing my feet to swing to the floor. Yawning, I reached up, stretching my arms and back. I reached into my dresser drawers, grabbed the first things my hands made contact with, a worn-out tie-dye t-shirt and a pair of jeans, and slipped them on. I walked into the kitchen where my mother was already scrambling some eggs.

The bread is already in the toaster and your eggs will be ready soon. Is your sister up yet?

I walked past my mother into Rachael’s room just as Mom hollered her name for what I guessed to be the third or fourth time this morning. She was sprawled across the bed on top of her blankets with her pillow over her head. I tugged on her feet.

Get up, already, I said, tickling her toes. She reached her arm around her pillow and flipped me the bird. That’s attractive. Now get up already.

Mmmm…five more minutes, She rolled over onto her side, shifting her head and pillow to face the wall.

Fine, no breakfast, I slipped out of the room. Behind me, I heard another groan and then the slamming of drawers.

I took a couple of bites of my eggs before she made her way to the kitchen table. She grabbed a piece of toast from my plate and popped it into her mouth. Mom eyed her across the table but decided to pick her battles for a change. She pulled out a chair and sat down next to me, setting her cane against the table leg. Mom's legs had been weakening lately so Dad insisted that she take her cane everywhere with her in case she had a spasm. I always pretended I didn't see it, hoping the problem might just go away on its own.

Rachael plopped down in the seat across from us, rubbing her fingers down her face to remove the sleepiness from her eyes. The little time she had spent in her room had transformed her into an almost fully acceptable human being. Her makeup was finished. Her hair, naturally straight, was put up in a chestnut ponytail and her thin, petite frame was squeezed into skinny jeans and an American Eagle t-shirt. Even though she was only fourteen, her body had developed womanly curves. Looking at the two of us together, I knew nobody would believe we were sisters. She had that beautiful hourglass shape, while I was shaped more like butternut squash. My friend, Jasmine, always told me Rachael and I had the same shape, but I think someone put too much sand in my glass. Except for her constant yawning, Rachael looked ten times better than I did.

You look so awake this morning, Rachael, Mom said, giving a little half-laugh that always reminded me of a cat sneezing. Are you ready for your first day of high school?

Overjoyed. Rachael yawned again. What about Kenzie starting senior year? Finally get to be a big girl, Sis.

Whatever, I said, taking a sip from my glass of orange juice. Rachael and I had a playful relationship. It took a lot of poking for her to make me mad.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. I flipped it open to find a text message from Jasmine. Jasmine and I had been friends for two years now by complete accident. I don’t remember exactly how it happened, but it involved a notebook, some nail polish, and a conversation about her love of bows. The bigger the bow, the better the cheerleader, she had told me. It was an unlikely pair from the start, but somehow, we seemed to click. She was outgoing and charming, finding qualities in me I didn't know I possessed. At first Aubrey and Savannah, my other friends were skeptical of her sincerity, but after a while, their bonds grew too.

I read her text as I got up from the table: Are you here yet? I need some help. I waved goodbye to Mom and watched Rachael kiss her cheek as we headed out the door. I texted Jasmine to let her know I would be there soon. We walked down our street and up Main Street to school. Along the way, I tried to mentally prepare myself for the upcoming year, wondering if maybe my classmates had decided over the summer to be more mature, but I doubted it. Rachael was quiet for a change. I saw her squeezing the straps of her neon backpack when she walked.

What’s up with you, I asked, moving along beside her.

High school is going to be different than middle school, right? She tried to smile at me, but it came out unsure.

I smiled back at her. Not really. It's just moving into a bigger pond. You'll still have the big asshole sharks, the bitchy, little piranhas, the nerdy little guppies, and lots of neon fish like you and me.

You’re a neon fish? I think you’re one of those book nerdy guppies that sit around at the bottom of the tank reading the dictionary for fun.

I don’t read the dictionary. I punched her lightly in the arm. It’s a thesaurus.

We laughed as we turned the corner, and she ran ahead to her friends in the parking lot. As I watched her, I crossed my fingers for luck, hoping her first day would go well and she would stay out of trouble. I liked her friends, but they weren’t the most studious, law-abiding citizens. As long as they didn’t drag her down with them, I tried not to complain too much when they happened to skip a class every once in a while. I waved to them as I walked up the steps into the building.

The school itself wasn’t large. It was a small town with barely five hundred high schoolers so naturally there wasn’t a need for a large school, but it wouldn’t have killed them to build in some wiggle room. As I walked through, I found myself ramming into everyone passing me; some people going in the same direction as me and some trying to fight the tide. I saw Rachael huddled in a corner with a small group of friends. She waved as I passed. I saw a bunch of soccer players standing by the lockers next to me, their cocky mouths spewing out insults to the passing crowds. I hated jocks. They spent most of their time building themselves up by putting others down and they had a particular interest in me, especially their hyena ringleader, Adam, who decided to tell everyone I never took a shower. My mother became worried after I insisted on showering three times a day, but Dad told her I was quirky and they dropped the subject. It didn't help the teasing. I tried not to make eye contact and press forward, but Adam cut across my path in front of me, pushing me back into the person behind me.

Shit, I said, as the person behind me stepped onto my heel, trying to move forward as the jock was plowing ahead of me. I spun around to yell at them, my face tight in a grimace, but my voice caught in my throat. This guy was abnormally tall with messy sandy blond hair, gray eyes, and a slight smirk on his face. Across his jawline was a small nick, barely visible, but enough to distract an observer from his well-proportioned, masculine features. I had never seen him before, but his build told me everything I needed to know about him. He was one of them and that meant one thing, I had to keep my mouth shut. I turned around and pressed forward, pushing my way through a group of girls, trying to escape before my first day turned into a nightmare. Behind me, I could hear the calls start already.

Better be careful, Adam. You might’ve caught something when you touched her, one of them said.

Ow! Ow, Kenzie! Lookin’ hot this year. Love that greasy, trucker look. Adam laughed.

The girls weren't moving fast enough for me to drown out their words. I had to get to my locker. I had to get away from the sound. My heart started to race with anxiety and my body seized with a mini-tornado shaking up the inside of my stomach. I felt trapped and alone in a sea full of people. Then someone grabbed my arm, pulling me through a bunch of girls. I finally looked up again and it was Savannah, her hair short and pink, a change since I had seen her last.

Ohmygosh. I’m so glad to see you, I said, clutching my chest. Love the new hair. When did you do that?

A couple of days ago. Long hair is just too much maintenance. Savannah looked behind me at the mass of people we had exited. The assholes starting early this year?

Don’t they always? I’m so glad this is our last year. I fiddled with the lock on our locker. Savannah and I always shared a locker because she never needed it unless for coats in the winter and the lock deposit was expensive for one person. I hated the damn thing. It never seemed to want to open. I imagined myself years into the future still dreaming about all those times I was late for class because I didn’t twist the lock just perfectly. It was also the ugliest pea soup green I had ever seen. Why someone would think that maroon walls and pea soup green lockers looked great together was beyond me. I knew nothing about colors, but even I could tell that it made the school look like some awful mix of baby food. Have you seen Jasmine yet?

I think she was upstairs at her locker looking at shoes. She tapped me lightly on the shoulder to get my attention. She always noticed when things were off. New flesh?

I looked up from the lock to see who she was talking about and, of course, she was pointing at the guy who had stepped on my heel. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and was casually hiking it up while he walked. His eyes were floating all over the crowd as if he were looking for someone. I accidentally caught his eye as he was passing and he came towards us. Damn, I thought. I’ve managed to piss someone off within the first hour.

Hi, umm…sorry about stepping on your foot. It’s kinda crowded in here. Not exactly what I’m used to. He scratched the back of his neck.

I froze, staring at him, wide-eyed and confused, trying to decipher the words he was saying. It felt like he was speaking a completely new language still not interpreted by humanity.

Who the heck are you? Savannah asked, snapping me out of my stupor. That's what I loved most about Savannah. She was blunt and abrasive, speaking for me when I was too anxious for words. We had met in middle school. Some of the jocks had been picking on me all morning and I was in the bathroom crying. Savannah had walked in, pursed her lips, and painted them with purple lipstick. Noticing me in the corner, she'd spun around and grabbed my shoulders, rapidly shaking me. I was so stunned I stopped crying.

That’s better, she had