My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. So hot. Who turned up the heat? And--wait. I sat up and a throbbing pain pulsed through my head. I needed water. Now.
"Finally awake?"
I knew that voice.
A blurry outline headed toward me. I blinked several hundred times before Nick's face became clear.
Nick. Memories rushed back. The alley. Nick's hand over my mouth.
"You kidnapped me!" My jell-o arms pushed against his chest. Cool water spilled onto my shirtsleeve.
"Well if you don't want any."
"I do." I grabbed the water and took a long drink. Water spilled out of my mouth and over my clothes and I didn't care.
Did he seriously just chuckle?
I wiped my mouth dry. "What?"
"You hungry too?"
"Yes actually."
"I'll get a bib then."
My first impulse was a good slug to the shoulder, but I stopped. Nick was holding me--against my will. Nick was in the same gang as Trista's brother. Nick was dangerous. I shrank away from him sinking deep into the pillows of the armchair.
"You okay, Cass?"
"You know my name?"
He rolled his eyes. "You are a regular."
"Do you seriously expect me to believe you work at the coffee shop?"
"Do you think I'd wear that sissy shirt in public if I didn't?"
What was his game? Honestly, the room didn't exactly scream dark and scary. It was a regular living room. Black leather sofa--the cushy kind, like the chair I was huddled in--a glass-topped coffee table, and even a TV decked out with all the gaming accessories. A kitchen off to the left, a dining area to the right, and a hallway which I suddenly hoped contained a bathroom.
As nice as it was, I'd been drugged and dragged here. "Where am I? And why am I here?"
Nick rubbed his hand over his neck. "This is my place."
Butterflies, a whole flock or herd or whatever, filled my tummy.
"Relax, Cass, you're not a prisoner or anything."
I wasn't? "Give me my phone."
He pulled it from his pocket and tossed it to me. "Battery's dead."
Of course it was.
"Don't worry. I texted your mom. She thinks you're with Trista."
"On a school night?"
"Yeah, well I had to do a little begging, and remind her it was the anniversary of Jason's funeral."
If hearts can stall then rev back to life, mine did. How did he know the day Jason was buried. I didn't even know the day ... "You knew her brother?"
"Yeah. Pizza rolls?"
My stomach couldn't have waited to growl? "Please. As long as they aren't laced with anything."
Nick smiled. It wasn't devious or impish. A real, genuine smile. "This is going to be a hard one to explain, but I did this to protect you."
I snorted.
"Let me get you some food and I'll tell you ... everything I can."
That sounded vague.
The oven beeped and Nick headed toward the kitchen.
Without him blocking my view, a clear view of the door lay ahead of me. I still had my shoes on. Pocketing my dead phone, I slid off the chair. The carpet squished under my shoes, still plush and new. Hopefully no squeaks in the floor then. I filled my lungs and raced to the door.
The cold golden knob wouldn't turn. I fumbled with the lock. Come on! Warmth surrounded me. I wasn't alone. The lock rattled in my shaking fingers.
Nick's fingers overlapped mine and the lock turned. "Lefty loosie."
A whimper squeaked past my throat.
Strong hands gripped my shoulders, surprisingly gentle. "Cass, I won't hurt you."
Click! The handle turned. I threw the door back, and Nick stepped away.
The hallway was lined with blue, patterned carpet that dizzied me as I ran. My heart slammed against my chest, pushing me forward. I passed a couple kissing by their front door and headed for the elevators. No. They'd take too long. Ah, stairs! I swung the door open and headed down them.
My whole body shook. My legs wouldn't move fast enough. I tripped. My hands gripped the cold rail to keep me from spiraling down the steps.
A door further down opened and clicked shut. I froze.
"The girl saw me, that's why he grabbed her."
My heartbeat thundered in my ears? Were they talking about me? Or was I paranoid?
"And you tailed him here?"
"No. I live here now. I tailed him downtown and lost him in the city square."
"What does the girl look like?"
"Leggy, dark hair, hot pink t-shirt with--I dunno a penguin on the front?"
Not paranoia.
"Tell the others. We have to find her and silence her."
"But she's with Nick--"
"I don't care who she's with. She saw you. It's your mess to clean up."
Holy crap. I clasped one hand over my mouth to hold in a scream. The other gripped the panda on the front of my hot pink shirt.
I just needed to get out of the stairwell. My legs trembled under my weight.
Shuffling steps came closer.
Up. I'd go a floor up and ride the elevator down. I'd find Nick, change my clothes and ... panic pulled my lungs tight. Calm down. Just find Nick.
And ask him what the heck was going on.
Showing posts with label Short Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Short Story. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
Wednesday, April 10, 2013
Lifers: installment one
"Ooh, let me guess." Trista swiveled her head to peruse the whole coffee shop.
"Give up?"
She didn't look at me but stuck out her index finger. "No. Someone made your eyes sparkle when we walked through that door and I'm gonna find him."
I rested my chin on my hands, content to watch her twirl her blonde curls. She always did that when she couldn't figure something out.
I leaned back in my chair smiling to myself. Trista would never guess who I was crushing on. He wasn't my normal type.
If she didn't guess, there would be no embarrassing laughter, or twitterpated eyelash flirting, or her whispering in my ear every time she saw him. That meant I might have a chance before she scared him away with her ... excitement.
The sound of nails clicking against the formica brought me out of my daydream.
Trista rolled her eyes. "What are you smirking at."
"You'll never figure it out."
She leaned over the table. "You know, best friends are supposed to confide in one another."
"Yeah, and if you hadn't chased away my last three crushes, I'd confide."
She slumped back in her chair. Then her blue eyes got all round and that famous pout that always worked on her father found a way to my heart.
She was my best friend. I didn't want to hurt her.
"Please, Cassidy? I promise I'll be good. I won't say a word." She crossed her heart. "I'll just ..." her eyes lit up. "I'll text you! You know like secret codes and stuff? We'll come up with a whole code list!"
It sounded less harmless that her typical excitement, and her eyes were so hopeful.
I smiled. "Sure."
"Really?" She squeaked. "Okay. Tell me." She sprouted a goofy grin that showed off all of her perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth.
My eyes darted to the counter.
In that one second I took in his muscular shoulders in that tight polo with the Java House logo on it. He looked so good in teal. I could never tell what color his eyes were. Sometimes green, sometimes blue. His name tag was always crooked in a my-pecs-are-too-big-to-wear-this-thing-right kind of way. And it read: Nick. My tummy flipped.
When my eyes darted back to Trista her big smile was gone.
She sat there with her mouth open and actually dropped her phone. No fun secret code text vibrated my back pocket.
Trista shook her head slowly. "No. No, no, no."
"What? I have to get permission to like someone?"
Her eyes skirted around the coffee house, this time there was nothing flirty in her gaze. "Come with me?"
"Trista--"
"Cass, this is important." She picked up her pink bag and her latte and headed out the front door.
I followed her. Outside I grabbed her arm. "What was that?"
She turned to face me and her glossy eyes sent a cannonball crashing into my stomach.
"He's bad news, Cass."
"You know him? I thought he was new in town."
She shrugged her eyes on the sidewalk.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Trista told me everything. Sometimes I tuned out her voice.
"I've seen his picture in ... in my brother's things."
Oh.
Oh that was bad.
Very bad.
Her brother was the only subject forbidden from discussion. All I knew was that he was in a gang, and he got out, and then someone killed him. That was enough.
I linked my arm though Trista's and started walking toward her house.
Very unlike Trista, she was quiet for a long time. But she hated to cry, so I just walked with her. Arm in arm. When we were a block from her house she looked at me.
Her stare was serious--also unlike Trista. "Promise me you'll stay away fr--"
"I promise."
She smiled, though her eyes were a little dewy. "So, I was thinking maybe we could still do operation secret code with the texting. We just need to find you a new guy to gush over."
A smile warmed my face. "Sounds like a plan."
She waved at me before she went inside. I caught the time on the huge hands of the grandfather clock in the front foyer. Ten? Yikes.
I stuck my hand in my back pocket to text my mom and let her know I'd be home soon. She got worried if I wasn't home by ten on a school night. No phone.
Crap. It must've fallen out of my pocket. My first thought was to go into Trista's house and use her phone to call my mom. But my phone was probably where I'd last used it--the coffee shop. And I didn't want to explain to Trista why I was going back there.
Jogging, I retraced my steps. They took me all the way to the coffee shop, which was closed.
I pressed my face up to the glass. There was some scrawny guy taking out the trash and a girl grabbed the register drawer. I had to get inside. My phone was like ... like my connection to the world. I banged on the glass, but no one seemed to care.
I raced around back hoping to catch scrawny at the dumpster.
"I don't know." A shaky voice rounded the corner.
I raced around the building and stopped. A chill spread through my body freezing every vein.
A man stood towering over scrawny with a fist in the air. Blood dripped out of Scrawny's nose and spotted his teal Java House polo.
He saw me. His hand reached out all limp and helpless like Adam's hand on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. "Help me."
The big guy punched Scrawny again, leaving him slumped against the brick wall, then he turned to face me. A freaky yellow-green gleam flashed over his eyes.
A scream rose in my throat and I fought hard to keep it in.
Exhaust filled my nostrils.
"Get in."
I tore my eyes from big guy's lumbering form. Nick sat in a black car waving for me to get in.
Nick? This was very bad. I ran.
An engine revved.
I kept running.
Footsteps hit the hard asphalt behind me.
My lungs burned. My tired legs wobbled.
I jolted backward. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me off my feet. I flailed and kicked. I reached behind me. My fingernails found flesh and I scratched.
And then everything went dark.
"Give up?"
She didn't look at me but stuck out her index finger. "No. Someone made your eyes sparkle when we walked through that door and I'm gonna find him."
I rested my chin on my hands, content to watch her twirl her blonde curls. She always did that when she couldn't figure something out.
I leaned back in my chair smiling to myself. Trista would never guess who I was crushing on. He wasn't my normal type.
If she didn't guess, there would be no embarrassing laughter, or twitterpated eyelash flirting, or her whispering in my ear every time she saw him. That meant I might have a chance before she scared him away with her ... excitement.
The sound of nails clicking against the formica brought me out of my daydream.
Trista rolled her eyes. "What are you smirking at."
"You'll never figure it out."
She leaned over the table. "You know, best friends are supposed to confide in one another."
"Yeah, and if you hadn't chased away my last three crushes, I'd confide."
She slumped back in her chair. Then her blue eyes got all round and that famous pout that always worked on her father found a way to my heart.
She was my best friend. I didn't want to hurt her.
"Please, Cassidy? I promise I'll be good. I won't say a word." She crossed her heart. "I'll just ..." her eyes lit up. "I'll text you! You know like secret codes and stuff? We'll come up with a whole code list!"
It sounded less harmless that her typical excitement, and her eyes were so hopeful.
I smiled. "Sure."
"Really?" She squeaked. "Okay. Tell me." She sprouted a goofy grin that showed off all of her perfectly straight, brilliantly white teeth.
My eyes darted to the counter.
In that one second I took in his muscular shoulders in that tight polo with the Java House logo on it. He looked so good in teal. I could never tell what color his eyes were. Sometimes green, sometimes blue. His name tag was always crooked in a my-pecs-are-too-big-to-wear-this-thing-right kind of way. And it read: Nick. My tummy flipped.
When my eyes darted back to Trista her big smile was gone.
She sat there with her mouth open and actually dropped her phone. No fun secret code text vibrated my back pocket.
Trista shook her head slowly. "No. No, no, no."
"What? I have to get permission to like someone?"
Her eyes skirted around the coffee house, this time there was nothing flirty in her gaze. "Come with me?"
"Trista--"
"Cass, this is important." She picked up her pink bag and her latte and headed out the front door.
I followed her. Outside I grabbed her arm. "What was that?"
She turned to face me and her glossy eyes sent a cannonball crashing into my stomach.
"He's bad news, Cass."
"You know him? I thought he was new in town."
She shrugged her eyes on the sidewalk.
"What aren't you telling me?"
Trista told me everything. Sometimes I tuned out her voice.
"I've seen his picture in ... in my brother's things."
Oh.
Oh that was bad.
Very bad.
Her brother was the only subject forbidden from discussion. All I knew was that he was in a gang, and he got out, and then someone killed him. That was enough.
I linked my arm though Trista's and started walking toward her house.
Very unlike Trista, she was quiet for a long time. But she hated to cry, so I just walked with her. Arm in arm. When we were a block from her house she looked at me.
Her stare was serious--also unlike Trista. "Promise me you'll stay away fr--"
"I promise."
She smiled, though her eyes were a little dewy. "So, I was thinking maybe we could still do operation secret code with the texting. We just need to find you a new guy to gush over."
A smile warmed my face. "Sounds like a plan."
She waved at me before she went inside. I caught the time on the huge hands of the grandfather clock in the front foyer. Ten? Yikes.
I stuck my hand in my back pocket to text my mom and let her know I'd be home soon. She got worried if I wasn't home by ten on a school night. No phone.
Crap. It must've fallen out of my pocket. My first thought was to go into Trista's house and use her phone to call my mom. But my phone was probably where I'd last used it--the coffee shop. And I didn't want to explain to Trista why I was going back there.
Jogging, I retraced my steps. They took me all the way to the coffee shop, which was closed.
I pressed my face up to the glass. There was some scrawny guy taking out the trash and a girl grabbed the register drawer. I had to get inside. My phone was like ... like my connection to the world. I banged on the glass, but no one seemed to care.
I raced around back hoping to catch scrawny at the dumpster.
"I don't know." A shaky voice rounded the corner.
I raced around the building and stopped. A chill spread through my body freezing every vein.
A man stood towering over scrawny with a fist in the air. Blood dripped out of Scrawny's nose and spotted his teal Java House polo.
He saw me. His hand reached out all limp and helpless like Adam's hand on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel. "Help me."
The big guy punched Scrawny again, leaving him slumped against the brick wall, then he turned to face me. A freaky yellow-green gleam flashed over his eyes.
A scream rose in my throat and I fought hard to keep it in.
Exhaust filled my nostrils.
"Get in."
I tore my eyes from big guy's lumbering form. Nick sat in a black car waving for me to get in.
Nick? This was very bad. I ran.
An engine revved.
I kept running.
Footsteps hit the hard asphalt behind me.
My lungs burned. My tired legs wobbled.
I jolted backward. Strong arms wrapped around my waist and pulled me off my feet. I flailed and kicked. I reached behind me. My fingernails found flesh and I scratched.
And then everything went dark.
Monday, December 3, 2012
Blind Date
Mary
pulled into my shared driveway and lowered her sunglasses. “Wow. Can you say
ripped?”
I
glanced toward the next door neighbor’s side of the yard. From the passenger’s
seat, I had an uninhibited view. The rubber ping of a basketball resounded as
Brandon—shirtless and sweaty—bounced it against the cement.
Mary
was still ogling.
I
rolled my eyes. “You can’t stand him.”
“Yes
I can.”
“Can’t.”
“Candy,
there’s a fine line between jealousy and hatred.”
“Oh.”
I laughed as I opened the passenger door. “So all this time you’ve been jealous
that Brandon and I were such good friends? Because I have a million emails and
text messages that say otherwise.”
“That’s
what I’m trying to clear up. If you wanted to hang out with me and Brandon at
the same time … now I’d be okay with it.”
“Yeah,
because now he’s hot.” I slammed the passenger door of her silver Malibu and
opened the rear door to collect my bags. How Mary made me spend so much money
on frivolity I had no idea, but she was right, I’d look super cute in that
black and white checkered pencil skirt tomorrow. “You and Brandon don’t like any of the same
things.”
“Candy,
don’t doom our relationship before it’s even started.”
I
laughed. “And when is this relationship going to start?”
“Set
it up for me?”
I
leaned in the open window of the passenger side. “No.”
“Why
not? It’s not like you want him.”
I
glanced over my shoulder. Brandon took another shot, seemingly oblivious to the
girls staring at him thirty feet away. “We haven’t exactly been hanging out
lately.”
“That’s
probably because he’s been throwing himself at you for like five years—he’s
tired of the rejection.”
“Rejec—he
has not been throwing himself at me. I would have noticed that.”
“So
you do like him?”
“No!”
Mary
narrowed her contact-created blue eyes, then pushed her sunglasses back on. “Methinks
thou protesteth too much.”
“Half
the words in that sentence aren’t even real anymore.”
“Well,
I’ll see you tomorrow. Wear the pencil skirt and I guarantee Brandon will have
forgotten he’s sworn you off. Just be sure to make good on any advances.” Mary
batted her false eyelashes. “You might only have one shot left to snag his
heart.”
I
waved as my melodramatic friend backed down the driveway. Then I turned to my
neighbor. My best friend. Yeah, I could shop with Mary, and talk girl talk, but
Brandon and I used to be inseparable. I deposited my shopping evidence just
inside the back door and wandered over. “Hey.”
He
nodded in my direction. “Candy.”
“How’ve
you been?”
His
eyes focused on the bouncing ball in front of him. “Busy.”
“With
your new friends?”
That
comment earned me a quick glance. “I guess.”
“Well
if you can schedule some time for your old friend tonight, I was hoping for a
couple hour marathon of last season’s supernatural. You know something to take
my mind off of the fact that summer officially ends in sixteen hours.”
Brandon
smiled—was I supposed to miss a smile that much? “You making popcorn?”
“My
dad will.”
“So
we’ll actually be able to eat it then?”
I
swiped the ball. “Oh, you wanna go there?”
“I
already did.”
I
shot. Net. I crouched, waiting for his move. “So, you coming?”
“Sure.”
Subwoofers
blared vibrating the ground between my house and Brandon’s as a black 80’s
Stang rushed up the driveway. The Binder brothers—all three of them. Brandon’s
new friends. He’d never liked them before. The twins, Luke and Carter, were
already in college. Max was our age—a senior this year. None of them really
talked to anyone, but for some reason, six weeks ago, they swarmed around
Brandon while I was in the bathroom at the movie theater. Now whenever they
showed up, he raced out to meet them like some adopted puppy. He was starting
to look like them too. Buff, dark circles under his eyes, and that cross ring
on his thumb.
“Hey,
Brandon. Up for a little last-night-of-summer fun? I heard it’s ladies night at
Kit’s end of summer party. We’re invited.”
“Sure.
Let me change.”
I
tossed the ball onto the grass. “Sounds fun, can I come?”
“Why
not?” Carter shot me a smile.
Brandon glared at me. “I thought you had plans
tonight, Candy.”
I
wasn’t about to let his saying my name through clenched teeth stop me. These
wolves in boys clothing were not going to steal my best friend. Not if I could
help it. “With you. Since you’re going out …” I shrugged.
Brandon’s
eyes darted toward the brothers then back to me. “Okay. Go change.”
“She
looks fine.” Carter opened the door, slid out and motioned to the back seat.
Brandon
cocked an eyebrow. “Maybe you should let your dad know.”
I
walked toward the car and pulled out my phone, fingers flying over my qwerty
keyboard. After a quick chirp I flashed my phone at Brandon so he could read
Dad’s response. Have fun. Be back before
curfew.
He
squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. I walked past him and slid into the
back seat next to Max who bobbed his head at me. “Hey, Candy.”
“Hey.”
The interior smelled like spearmint.
Brandon
rushed up to Carter, their chests almost touched. The Stang’s roof blocked my
view of their faces, but Brandon’s hushed voice traveled. “If she gets hurt—”
“She
won’t. Tonight is harmless.”
Whatever
that meant. I ventured to look at Max still smiling next to me and Luke who turned
around and nodded once. His eyebrow ring glinted in the setting sunlight.
I
felt suddenly insecure. “You’re sure it’s okay that I show up uninvited?”
Luke
chuckled. “You’re hot enough.”
“Are
you sure I shouldn’t change first?”
“Second
thoughts?”
Well,
kinda.
Brandon
finally climbed into the backseat smelling amazing. Since when did he wear
cologne?
*
Strobe
lights danced off the walls, and shirts, and couches. I’d heard about Kit
Wheeler’s mansion, but it seriously exceeded expectation. A pool in the yard
surrounded by statues? Check. I sat on the white leather couch with a perfect
view of the backyard—alone. Where had Brandon gone to anyway? They left me with
Max who was pretty content to suck face with the girl on his lap. I stood up.
“Leaving
so soon?”
I
spun on my heel. Whoa. I had never, in all my life, seen anyone as hot as this
guy. Dark eyes, golden hair, he didn’t even have a summer tan, but he was
rocking the pale face. I pointed toward the patio. “Actually, I was just—” Just
what? My cheeks flushed.
“I
thought I’d better come over and introduce myself before someone else got brave
enough to approach an angel.”
He
actually lifted my hand and kissed it. My knees melted.
“Hey,
Candy. Wanna dance?”
Brandon?
Where had he been? I turned toward him, but his eyes locked on tall, pale and
gorgeous.
“Back
off, Leo, she’s with us.”
Carter?
Where did he get off sounding so … protective? Tension built a wall around us
and I wanted out. “You guys know each other?”
Leo
stared at Carter and a smile stretched his lips. “We’ve met. In passing.” Leo
looked into my eyes again. “I didn’t know you were taken.”
I
stepped away from Brandon, casting him a glance over my shoulder. His eyes
widened. Before he could speak, I held my hand out for Leo to take. “I’m not. I’m
just here with some friends.”
*
“I
told you the checkered skirt was awesome. You look amazing.”
I
slammed my locker door and listened to Mary jabber as I walked toward my third
hour. My head was pounding. I scanned the halls like some hunted mouse. Leo said
he was a new student at Beech High this year, but I hadn’t seen him yet. I
nearly tripped in my heels as Mary grabbed my sleeve and yanked me back a step.
“Who.
Is. That?”
“Leo.”
My voice came out in a whisper.
“You
know him?”
“Yup.”
I tugged Mary along.
She
resisted. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”
“Ummm,
no.”
“Candy,
why not?”
Someone
placed a hand on my shoulder. “Because it’s best to stay away from guys like
him.”
Brandon.
Mary
stared at Brandon a second before she pointed to her eye and winced. “Nice
shiner.”
I
pulled her sleeve. This time she let me tow her along.
“What
is going on here, Candy? And where were you last night? I must have texted ten
times.”
“Twelve.”
We
took our seats just before the bell rang. I turned to Mary when Ms. Kilne’s
back was turned. “I think you’re right about Brandon. He got all jealous last
night when I was dancing with Leo.”
Mary’s
eyebrows raised. “You danced with hot Adonis man? You’re claiming both of them
now, aren’t you? Isn’t one enough?”
I
shook my head. “Leo is bad news. Brandon’s right, stay away from him.”
“Care
to share some details?”
I
sighed and my breath came out shaky. “If I could remember them I would.”
Mary
sat up and leaned closer. Concern creased her forehead. “Spill.”
“I
think he drugged me.”
“Leo?”
“Yeah.
I went to Kit Wheeler’s party last night with Brandon and the Binder brothers.
Leo was there. I danced with him. I remember something about feeling a little
scared, then things got really blurry. The next I knew, I was in the backseat
of Luke’s car with my head in Brandon’s lap and a bucket of vomit on the
floor.”
“Whoa.
Did Leo give you a drink?”
I
put my head in my hands trying to remember. Mrs. Kilne’s droning voice seemed
to pull something to the surface. “The only one who gave me a drink was Max.”
“Max
drugged you? You better tell Brandon.”
I
sighed. Brandon did not have a black eye when he’d dropped me off last night.
That meant despite my warning, he’d gone back out with those brothers. “I don’t
think he’ll listen.”
When
I reached my fifth hour class my head was throbbing. I had no time for the anal
Mr. Peck. He sent me to seat twelve B. I rolled my eyes and counted twelve
rows.
“Nice
skirt.”
Leo.
My stomach twisted. “Hey.”
“Are
you feeling any better?”
“Better?”
“Last
night while we were dancing you got dizzy. You almost collapsed on the floor.
Don’t you remember?”
“Oh.
Yeah. The details are a little foggy.”
“I
trust your friends got you home safe and sound?”
“Yeah.”
“Odd
lot, huh?”
That
comment rubbed me the wrong way. “Pardon?”
Leo
held up hinds hands. “Calm down. I’m sorry. I just meant they’re the protective
type. I mean, a girl can make her own decisions, right?”
My
head felt heavy. “Right.”
“You
wanted me to drive you home, but they practically pulled you out of my car. Not
that I really blame them. But still.”
“Well,
I wasn’t feeling myself. I’m sure they were just watching out for me.”
“Right.
That’s what friends are for.”
“What
are you saying?”
“I’m
saying you seemed a little uncomfortable with those guys and I was offering you
a way out. Truly, if it weren’t for the way you latched on to that Brayden
character—”
“His
name is Brandon.”
Leo
chuckled. “Okay Brandon. I would have thought they dragged you there without
your consent.”
I
suppose it could have looked that way to an outsider. The rest of class Leo
made it clear that he was nothing but a gentleman. There was no way he was the
offender of last night’s dizzying episode. That left a myriad of questions for
Brandon.
*
When
I pulled into the driveway he was home and trying to skirt into his house.
“Brandon!” I stormed up to him. In the daylight his cheek was purple too. I
lifted a hand to his face. He pulled away. Had the Binder brothers done this?
“What happened?”
“I
got in a fight.”
“Spill.”
“Please
stay away from Leo.”
“He
did this?”
“I
accused him of trying to hurt you.”
“Your
new friends couldn’t help you out?”
“Leo
had friends waiting too.”
He
did? “Why did you even go back?”
He
just stared at me.
“Well,
could we hang out tonight?”
“I’m
busy.”
“Brandon—”
His
cell cut me off. He didn’t even apologize, just answered it and walked away.
“Yeah, I’ll be ready.”
So
I’d lost him. Was it because I’d chosen Leo? Hadn’t Mary warned me not to mess
up?
*
“Hello?”
I
turned back to Mary and focused on my locker comm.
“Don’t
you get enough of that eye candy from your bedroom window?”
“What?”
“Come
on. I’m your only remaining best friend. You can’t expect me to fall for the I-wasn’t-staring-at-Brandon
crap.”
“We
haven’t hung out in almost two months.”
“Candy,
you have to stop. That ship has sailed.”
“All
the ships have sailed.”
“Leo?
I thought you were okay with him moving on.”
“Yeah.
Sort of. When I wanted something else.”
“You’ve
got to stop putting off that vibe.”
“Vibe?”
“Mark
says you’ve got this I’m-not-interested vibe. Just let it fall for a minute and
I’m sure Leo will be glued to you.” Mary wiggled her eyebrows.
“Speaking
of glue, here comes Mark.”
Mary
let out a silent squee and turned to face him.
I
rolled my eyes, but happily. It was good to see Mary so on cloud nine. I opened
my locker door and an envelope fluttered to the floor. I picked it up, peeled it
open, and pulled out the card. There was a cute little basset hound puppy in
the front. Inside, big droopy ears arranged the letters to spell ‘sorry’.
Beneath it, in handwriting I couldn’t identify, read: Candy, I’m sorry I’ve
been distant lately. I want to make it up to you. Will you meet me at 1271 Cogdon
street tonight at nine?
Hmmm.
A Halloween date? Brandon had always wanted to take me out on Halloween.
I
looked over my shoulder to see if he was still there. He was, talking to Max
and the couple girls who had
flocked their way. At least Brandon didn’t dress
like the brothers. He’d kept his button down flannel shirts and brown boots. He
glanced my way and sent me a soft, almost rueful, smile. My breath caught.
Maybe it was from him. Maybe I had one chance left. I smiled back. Then I
plugged the address into my phone and headed out.
*
Twelve
seventy-one Cogdon was an abandoned house. The dark kind. Snow draped the
rooftop contrasting the pitch black exterior. No tire tracks dented the snow
outside. I made sure it was the place—again—then headed out of my car.
I
slammed the door and walked toward the dilapidated iron fence. A thump thump
sounded behind me. I froze. My heart sped. Reluctantly I turned back. A black
cat sat on the trunk of my car licking her paw. Catching my breath and
reminding myself that there’s no such thing as ghosts, I clicked the unlock on
my fob. Hearing the noise, kitty hissed and dismounted. I opened the trunk and grabbed
my Maglite. It might just be too dark in there.
The
iron gate was unlocked. I pushed through it and it squealed. I was going to
kill Brandon for this. He was forever begging me to go with him to a haunted
house. He better have something truly romantic planned.
Snow
crunched under my black heeled boots as I walked up the winding walkway. There
were no tracks on the snow-covered steps. The porch light was conveniently out.
No doorbell. Dark green paint chipped off the door revealing dry, sepia wood
beneath. The handle was an ornate brass piece molded in the shape of a dragon.
Right at my eye level sat a brass door knocker. Its dragon eyes stared at me. I
curled my fingers around the ring between its jaws. It was cold even in my
gloved hand. The first knock echoed. A click followed the second and the door
creaked open. Clutching my Maglite, I stepped over the threshold.
My
boot tapped against the wooden floor sending a loud clack into the empty space
ahead. I pushed the door open wider to fit through. It groaned. My stomach
squeezed. This was not a good idea. I headed backward through the door, pulling
it with me. The door protested and the dragon handle slipped through my grip.
Strong fingers closed around my left wrist and pulled me aside. A hand cupped
over my mouth. Panic seized my chest.
I
swung the flashlight behind my head and missed. I stomped with my heeled boot
on my captor’s foot as I bit down on the tiny bit of skin I could catch of the
rough palm over my mouth. He swore. Released, I fell forward with force. The Maglite
thunked down and rolled away from me.
Light
flicked on, blinding me. I shook.
“Candy?”
The light turned off.
I
knew that whisper. “Brandon?”
“Are
you okay?” He helped me up.
I
latched onto him. “Yeah, you?”
He
was close enough for me to make out his features in the dark. The circles under
his eyes looked darker, but a smile warmed his face. “I’ll live. Sorry about
grabbing you.”
“Didn’t
you expect me?”
“No.”
No?
“Did
you follow me or something?” He peered out the front door. “It’s not safe for
you to be here.” He took my arm in his hand and guided me toward the rear of
the house. I resisted. I had no intention of going any deeper into this house
without an explanation. “At least let me get you upstairs.”
I
eyed the two staircases flanking the balcony just beyond the entryway. If the
chandelier lit this room it was probably beautiful. Right now it looked
dangerous and creaky.
I
turned to face Brandon and grabbed both of his arms. “What’s going on here?”
Something sticky, warm and wet seeped through my glove. I looked down. “You’re
bleeding.”
“I
know. Listen, Max has a car out back. Let me get you closer and you can make a
run for it.”
“A
run?”
“You
shouldn’t be here.”
So
he’d said. “I was invited here.”
“You?
I should have known. How stupid—I thought he’d given up on you.”
“You’re
not making any sense.” I looked down at the floor and caught sight of something
glimmer. A razor blade. “Bran!” I grabbed his arm and shoved up his sleeve. A
long, thin cut. “What the hell?”
“It’s
not what you think.” He pushed me closer to the staircase and into the darkest
corner.
I
pushed back against him. “Not what I think?”
“Shhh.”
His eyes, scared and wild, implored me to take him seriously. “There’s not time
to get you out of here now. Take off your shoes and give me your coat.”
“What?”
“Please,
Candy. You don’t know what you’re up against.”
I
pulled my jeans up to my knee and unzipped my boot. When my foot hit the cold
floor, I wished I’d worn socks instead of panty hose. “And what am I up
against.”
“You
wouldn’t believe me.”
I
slid out of my coat and handed it to him. “Tell me.”
“Leo
is a vampire.”
“You
seriously brought me here to play a prank on me?”
Brandon
stuck out his bleeding arm. “Does this look like a joke to you?” He squeezed
his arm and blood oozed from the long cut and dripped to the floor. He moved behind
the staircase and I stared at the liquid on the floor.
My
knees trembled. He wasn’t kidding. He wasn’t … “Holy—”
“Water.”
“What?”
He
handed me a super soaker. “Holy water kills them. Squirt anything that moves.
If it screams, unload on it. Fast.”
I
grabbed the toy. It had been painted black, but seemed otherwise unremarkable.
“Where’s yours?”
“I
wasn’t expecting company.”
“I’m
not taking your weapon.”
“Relax.
I’ve got this.” He held up something that resembled a railroad spike.
I
reached out to touch it. “A woodchip.”
“Go
hide behind the railing and wait. I’ll move your jacket so he thinks you’ve
wandered farther into the house. Then I’ll lead him away with this.” He pointed
to his bloodied arm.
“What
if it doesn’t work?”
“He’s
not my first vamp, Candy. I’ve been training with the Binders. It’s kind of a
long story and—”
“If
they’re so seasoned how come they’re not in here bleeding?”
Brandon
put his palm on my arm. Was I supposed to love the warmth of his hand that
much? He whispered,
“Leo hates me.”
“Why?”
His
smile was crooked. “He thinks I’m competition. He thinks you’re in love with me
or something absurd like that.”
“Absurd?”
Brandon’s
eyes rounded. “Your guy’s here.” He towed me back to the stairs. “Stay here.
Please.”
I
watched him leave. Then I sank onto the third step, super soaker ready to fire,
in the absolute quiet. The door creaked. I had to tell myself it was just the
wind. It seeped under the threshold and chilled my feet. Another groan upset
the floorboards. Did old houses always have to be so creepy?
“His
blood smells enticing, but not as sweet as you.”
Leo.
I
shook. In the dark I swore I saw a form move in front of me. An ice cold hand
touched my shoulder. I screamed. I aimed. He was too close! The nozzle of the
gun wouldn’t fit between us. I struggled to back away, but tripped over the
stairs. His thumb found the pressure point at the base of my neck and he
squeezed while he extracted the gun from my grip.
“Good
girl.”
He
led me into the center of the room, right under the chandelier in front of the
balcony. Brandon’s body was placed prostrate between the two staircases. Blood
caked his temple. My knees gave out. Leo held me up. “I thought you might like
the surprise. He almost had me.” Leo faced me and pointed to a gaping, bloodied
hole in his shirt. “Unfortunately, the stake didn’t penetrate deep enough
before I pulled it out. Don’t worry. He’s not dead yet. I’m a sucker for
romance. Tragedy really. This looks like the perfect place for a little Romeo
and Juliet. Don’t you think? I’ve always wanted to rewrite that one.”
Brandon
moved.
My
heart thudded against my ribs.
The
vampire’s eyes narrowed. He turned around to catch Brandon reaching toward the
super soaker. Leo grabbed me in his vice grip and pulled me to him. “Let’s see
if you’re fast enough to reach the water gun before I drain your girlfriend’s
blood.”
Brandon
lunged for the weapon. Leo tossed me aside. I flew backward. A squeal pierced
the quiet. The skin of my bare arms shrieked against the wood floor. Leo sat on
top of Brandon, pinning his arms down. The vampire kicked the super soaker across
the room.
“Any
… time …” Brandon choked.
I
scrambled to get up and my hand grazed something cold. The Maglite. I sent it
spinning at Leo’s head. It clunked off of him. His eyes landed on me. I stood
weaponless. He lunged at me. Water sprayed from over the balcony. Leo screamed,
falling to the floor at my feet. Steam rose off of him.
“Take
that, bastard!” Max unloaded the whole gun.
Leo’s
screams resounded off the naked walls until nothing remained of him but a
puddle of ash like the wicked witch from the Wizard of Oz.
I
slumped to the floor, mouth open, and stared at the pile of wet ash.
Max
slid down the banister and landed in front of me. He put up his hand for a high
five. “You were awesome.”
Brandon
pushed Max’s shoulder. “You were a little late. Did you see how close his teeth
got to Candy’s neck?”
“Relax,
I had to wait until he couldn’t see me. Your plan to move was brilliant.” Max
turned toward me again. “And you were awesome! Maglite to the head. I mean
bam!”
Brandon
took my hands in his and helped me up. “You okay?” He chuckled.
“What
are you laughing at?”
“Max
is right, the Maglite thing was awesome.”
“You
idiot.” I wrapped my arms around him and pulled him close.
Max
picked up the flashlight. “You should have seen Leo’s face. Dude, she can come
with us anytime.”
Brandon
hugged me tight. “No. She can’t.”
I
buried my head in his chest and peeked at the mound of black on the floor. “So,
my boyfriend is a vampire slayer? How awesome is that?”
He
stopped breathing for a moment. “Did you just call me your boyfriend?”
“Are
you complaining?”
“Absolutely
not.”
Thursday, December 15, 2011
The Price of a Wish
“I hate you!”
Elain
slammed her bedroom door so hard one of the papers taped to the outside came
undone and slid halfway under the door.
She was too angry to pick it up.
She heard her mother’s footsteps stop right outside her bedroom. The paper moved and Elain stepped on it to
prevent her mother from picking it up and putting it back on her door. It was stupid, she knew, but it felt good to
be angry, to rebel, to impede her mother from doing something, even if it was
something as mundane as picking up one of Elain’s old drawings.
The paper ripped. Elain
heard her mother gasp as she released the paper.
“Elain Marie,” her mother said sternly, “I have had enough
of this disrespectful behavior. You will
stay in your room for the rest of the night.”
“Good!” Elain yelled
at the door, but her mother’s footsteps were already growing fainter.
She picked her foot off the pink construction paper on the
floor. It was faded from time spent in
the sun, and now crinkled, scuffed and torn, but she recognized it. It was cut in the shape of a heart. She pulled it through the slit between the
floor and her door and turned it over. Stick
figures in crayon hugged one another, she and her mother. Elain tossed it across her room and watched
it flutter to the floor as she walked over to her bed.
Another drawing was taped to her
headboard. It was a picture, of better
quality, being more recent, of herself, her sister and her mother all walking
home from the ice cream shop, stupid smiles on their faces and ice cream cones
in their hands.
Angrily, Elain ripped the picture down and remembered with a
shudder why it had been taped there. The
wooden carving of the stag stared back at her.
Turning her back quickly on the soulful stare of the nightmare-inducing
creature her great-grandfather had carved, Elain let herself fall to her
mattress; it bounced beneath her as she stared at the ceiling.
It wasn’t her fault. Her mother was so unfair to be angry
with her. It wasn’t like she meant for her sister to fall and scrape her
knee. Kyra was always dragging
behind. Did she really have to watch her
every moment? Because that just wasn’t
fair. It’s not like Elian even wanted her to come along, and it was hard enough to get to play with those girls
anyway without her little sister having to tag along.
No, it wasn’t fair for her mother to be mad
at her. She should be thanking her for
begging to have Kyra invited in the first place!
Now she was grounded from playing with her friends for a
whole week! All because Kyra whined and
stomped.
All that whining worked for
her. Her parents loved Kyra more
anyway. Well, maybe Elain would run
away. Then they’d be sorry. Then they’d know how much of a help she
really was. Then they’d realize how
badly they treated her. But she would be
gone, and they’d have to live with their misery.
Angry tears streamed down Elain’s face, some drying to her
cheeks. She wiped them away and sat
up. That’s just what she was going to
do. Later tonight, when they were
sleeping, she’d slip out the back and run away.
She got up and grabbed her backpack, ridding it of homework, she packed
her most needed possessions. Then she
tucked her bag under her bed and pretended to sleep.
***
Elain opened her eyes.
Moonlight spilled in through her bedroom
window and onto her face. She’d
fallen asleep! Scrambling to her feet
she stopped and listened. Sometimes the
old house made strange noises in the night, but this was different.
Tap,
tap, tap.
Elain turned toward the window.
Tap, tap, tap.
Her eyes grew wide.
There was something moving in the moonlight, casting a huge shadow onto
her bed. The shadow of a man. Elain’s bedroom was on the second floor,
there was no reasonable explanation for a man to be standing on her windowsill,
and yet there was the shadow of one. She rubber her eyes,
and to her surprise, the shadow was gone.
Elain walked over to the window and looked out. She saw nothing on the quiet streets
below. She opened the window and peered down. The night air was cool, but comfortable,
like summer lingering into fall. She
looked to the side; the rose of Sharon bush grew to the side of her window, but
wasn’t tall enough to cast a shadow. She
looked to the other side. The ivy. That had to be what cast the shadow. It must have
blown in the breeze over her window and she thought it looked like a man.
Relieved, Elain closed the window
and turned back toward her bed. She was
wide awake now, time to follow through with her plan to run away. Perhaps she could stay in the garage
unnoticed for a time.
Leaning against
the window she looked at her bed, her own shadow spread across the unmade
covers, but something strange seemed to be growing from her head! Elain turned to see if the ivy blew in front
of her window again, but it didn’t. Looking back, she noticed that the growth was not part of her shadow at
all, nor was it even a growth. It was a
man. A very small, ugly man.
“Who are you?” Elain
asked, jumping away from the window and her bed.
“Is that how you greet guests? My, what a strange place I’ve
come to.” The little man removed his red
cap and scratched his head.
“Guests! Guests are
typically invited. I don’t recall
inviting you.”
“You did. I mean you still wish to go to Runaway, don’t
you?”
“Runaway?”
“You certainly are the repetitive type.” The little man jumped from the bed and walked
toward her. He must have only reached
her kneecap in height.
Elain twisted her lips.
“I must be dreaming.”
“It was your wish, to show your family how sorry they would
be if you were gone, wasn’t it?”
“I—well I suppose,”
“Then, Toadstool at your service.”
“Toadstool?”
“I thought we were done with that.”
“Done with what?”
“Would you like to come to Runaway or not?” The little man
sighed. “To show your family a thing or
two about missing you.” Toadstool leaned on Elain’s backpack and twirled his
red cap over his finger.
“How do I get there?”
“Ah!” Toadstool stood straight, snapped his cap on his head
and bowed. “I thought you’d never
ask.” He reached up to grab Elain’s
wrist and towed her to the window.
“We’ll be taking a wyvern. Best
way to travel such a distance.”
“I am dreaming.” Elain
said as she stared at the scaled tail dangling in front of her window.
Toadstool lifted the window with ease and stepped onto the
sill. “Going up?” He extended his hand.
“But how will I get back?”
Toadstool bowed his head and shook it, and stepped back
under the window. “Those who go to
Runaway never wish to go back.”
“Why not?”
“Because they get what they asked for.”
“But what if I don’t?”
“You will.”
Toadstool’s smile was suddenly frightening.
“And what’s that?”
“Your family will see how awful they were to drive you
away. They’ll miss you terribly.”
“Then, I’d want to come back, and tell them I’m all right.”
Toadstool’s eyes narrowed for a moment, and Elain shrank
away from him. “I will not be going with you and your wyvern,” she said.
“I think you will.”
“You can’t take me!”
“Yes, I can!” Toadstool reached for her, but a growl
resounding behind Elain caused the little man to jump back.
Elain was afraid to move.
“You cannot take who does not want to be taken, Toadstool.”
A voice said softly after the growl had faded.
“She does want—"
The growl cut him off again.
Elain saw a light surrounding her from behind and fear kept her from
turning toward it. Toadstool shied from
the light, holding a bony arm up to his eyes.
He skittered back and grabbed the wyvern’s tail. The beast shrieked as it flew away, the
little man clinging to it.
Elain was alone with the creature now. She turned, slowly, toward it.
It was not what she’d expected at all. It wasn’t a huge roaring creature like a lion
or leopard. Instead, it was slender,
tall and white. A stag. To think a frail, peaceful creature was capable
of such a growl made Elain shudder.
“You are wise to have denied his invitation. There is no returning from Runaway. The Redcap would have taken your spirit and
left your shell of a body for your family.”
“I would have died?” Elain felt a shiver deep in her heart.
The stag nodded and at once Elain recognized its soulful
eyes.
“It’s you, isn’t it?
The deer from my bed?”
“It was good that you uncovered me tonight. How am I supposed to protect you from your
dreams when you keep me hidden?”
“You protect me?”
“Of course, Fawn. Not
all dreams are safe.”
“Neither are all wishes.”
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