HYBRID

by Emery Skye

  I reach in my pocket and pull out my phone with a tug. It's already lunchtime, but I have no appetite.

  I walk in the direction of the library. "Where you going?" Hunter asks. His tone is guarded, much different than moments before.

  "To the library," I say. There's a lot unspoken between us. "Thank you for feeding the horses last night," I express my gratitude, then reach into my backpack and retrieve my water bottle and take a huge swig, but my throat's still tight and hoarse.

  "Don't thank me yet," he says with an air of cockiness that releases the tension. His silly expression helps steer us toward comfortable familiarity.

  "Oh? And, why not?"

  "You owe me now," he explicates with a sly smile, showing off those should-be-illegal dimples.

  "Do I?"

  He nods in absolute seriousness and I laugh, but it sounds more like a choke. My reaction causes his face to contort in a grimace.

  I think there's more to Hunter than he lets others see, and it's time to figure him out.

  THIRTEEN

  Where are you? –Pierce

  Working on a project.

  With who? Alone?

  What is going on with Pierce? He's overstepping boundaries lately. I decide to not answer him and instead ask Hunter, "You wanna get a head start on that project for history? We might as well get it done."

  "I guess," he relents without a lick of glee at the idea.

  I smile to myself, because I am happy in Hunter's presence and for a little longer, we get to spend time together.

  The musty smell of old books and leather engulf us as we enter the rustic library that I love so much. There's always been an allure to learning. It's something that's never been outside my reach and no matter what I know, there will always be books to turn to. I think it's because I've had to learn so much on my own and didn't want to ask for help. Books have never let me down, nor left me by the wayside. The same can’t be said for people.

  "Please stop," a small voice squeaks from behind me. I turn to see Doug with his thin lips and slight eye openings, telltale signs of the fetal alcohol syndrome that curses the poor kid.

  Doug’s books are sprawled out on the floor. Something tells me the two boys standing nearby in letterman jackets are to blame for the mess.

  I set my book bag down on a nearby chair and walk toward them, my anger burns hotter with every step and my fists are balled at my sides.

  "Hi, Lexi," Doug says shyly.

  "Doug," I smile. "How are you, buddy?" I pick up the books and stack one on top of the other.

  "Oh, look, it's Bloody Lexi coming to the retard's rescue." I tilt my head back to look up at the face on the giant six-foot-two punk. I want to rip his flesh off with my bare hands. How could someone be so cruel? Picking on me is one thing; picking on Doug is a whole other thing. As far as I'm concerned, picking on someone who cannot defend themselves is deserving of the death penalty…and I'm feeling up to be judge, jury and executioner.

  "Here ya go, bud," I hand Doug the books and stand. I tie my hair into a messy bun at the nape of my neck, preparing for battle.

  "Thanks, Lexi," he smiles a crooked smile that stretches almost from ear to ear on his squat face, but I still see that frightened gleam in his eyes, like a deer in headlights.

  "Why don't you go to class?" I smile sweetly. Innocence like his is rare. Doug is a pretty smart kid; he just struggles a little bit, to no fault of his own.

  Doug scurries off like a scared rabbit. I whip around to face the two pricks, who moronically knocked his books out of his hand. I have half a mind to rip their heads from their necks and watch as their blood dyes the floor red.

  "Ohh, has Demon-girl come to hurt me?" the boy with russet eyes asks with mock fear.

  "If so, I'm hungry for some pain," the other jeers and reaches forward to place his hands on my hips. I knee him hard in the groan and he doubles over in pain. "Bitch!"

  The brown-eyed boy looks at his buddy with wide eyes, then turns a fiery gaze on me. He extends his arm, and I'm pretty sure he’s going to hit me, but his hand never connects with my face.

  Hunter steps in and grabs the boy's arm. The boy somersaults and lands on his back.

  "Holy shit," I stare at the boy, who now lies on his back coughing. I shift my eyes to Hunter. "That was insane! Where did you learn that?" I ask him with the excitement of a kid in a candy shop.

  He scowls disapprovingly.

  The black-haired boy stands straight. "You're gonna get it, you fucking freak."

  I laugh at him. "You do know you got your ass beat, right?" I ask.

  "Alexis, it's time to go," Hunter growls at me. I don't argue. I fall into step next to him, still in awe of his moves.

  I’m pushed from behind and my head collides with something solid before starbursts fill my eyes. "Awww." That hurt.

  The starbursts recede from sight. Hunter squares off with the black-haired boy. He sidesteps every offensive move the kid tries, then in three quick maneuvers, the kid’s down.

  Hunter stomps over to me and takes my arm. His fingers clutch my hoodie as he pulls me along.

  "How they can pack that much stupid in a body is a medical mystery. What the heck was that?" I ask.

  "Nothing."

  "That wasn't 'nothing'. That was epic!" I spout off. "Umm...did you miss that? Hello, you went all Ninja Turtles on them."

  He glares at me.

  "Where the did you learn that?"

  "Nowhere."

  "Nowhere?" I question speculatively.

  "Yes, Lex. Nowhere!"

  He pulls me out of the library and up a dirt path.

  "You can't do stuff like that!" he shouts at me. He paces back and forth. The crunching of leaves and heavy breathing fills the air.

  I sigh deeply and he turns to face me.

  "I was sticking up for someone who was getting bullied," I tell him.

  "You injured one of those boys."

  I look at him incredulously. "I injured him...? Are you for real?"

  "Yes. I am for real...whatever you mean by that."

  I laugh at him and it feels good to laugh after this morning's pain-fest.

  "You almost killed them," I remind him of the WWE SmackDown in the library minutes before.

  A vein throbs in his neck. "That's what I'm talking about. You need to watch your mouth. It's fine when you speak in that manner to Cayla, but those boys were bigger than you. What if I hadn't been there?"

  "So? You think I got the nicknames Demon-girl and Bloody Lexi from my good-girl reputation?"

  He looks confused so I add, "I can handle myself. Sure, it might not be all graceful like a gazelle, or samurai-style like you, but I can get the job done too." I give him the duh look.

  "You don't get it. You shouldn't be fighting. You should be careful."

  "This is ridiculous." I call for the cease-fire.

  He squints his eyes and purses his lips. I can tell he doesn't truly believe this conversation is over, but he nods.

  "Who are the Ninja Turtles?" he asks.

  I look at him disbelieving. "You are seriously from another time."

  I hear him grumble and say, "You have no idea."

  FOURTEEN

  The next few days are uneventful. Hunter maintains his shadowy watch over me, Caity pesters me with questions about Hunter, and Pierce blows off dinner five nights in a row. He's assured me tonight he won't cancel.

  I'm surprised when Pierce picks me up from my dorm seconds after our afternoon classes finish. He's lightning fast as he steers us through the clusters of congregating students to his brand new F250. We are on the road minutes later.

  The dirt roads lead us through the scenic landscape of the beautiful Rocky Mountains.

  Even someone lost to depression and melancholy would be able to see the beauty of aspens and evergreens spiking through the snow-blanketed ground.

  Each tree is feathered with white layers. Below the jagged cliffhangers, a river runs and furiously crashes against
its boundaries as if demanding more room.

  I roll down the window and let my hand make waves in the freezing wind, enjoying the coolness against my heated skin. The radio blasts music that I don't recognize and highly doubt is from this world.

  "What are we listening to?" Pierce doesn't answer so I say, "Pierce?"

  His hair glistens in the sun. He glances at me. "This is classical for your information,” he says sarcastically. “I know it’s not bar music, but you might end up liking it.”

  "Hey, I like Beethoven's ‘Moonlight Sonata’," I argue and sink down in the tan leather interior with my boots propped on the dashboard.

  He doesn't look convinced. "What? I do." I punch him in the shoulder and probably hurt my hand more than his arm.

  Then, the thought of Hunter enters my mind.

  "Driving here!" He hollers over the music bringing my attention back to the present atmosphere.

  "Yeah, yeah." I move my hand toward the tuner on the radio. He goes to smack my hand away, but I'm quicker. "Ha, ha."

  "No!" he barks.

  "Pleeeease!" I beg.

  I change the station.

  He gives me a thumbs-up. There are hues of black and around his knuckles. Weird.

  Basalt's the nearest town to Fairmont. It's a quaint mountain town, like a village full of Victorian-style buildings. There are little boutiques, a mini-mart, animal feed store, and more. Recently, the area blew up with some beautiful homes, charming ski huts and bulky log cabins.

  "What do ya' feel like?" Pierce asks.

  "Um...Saxy's?" I reply unsure.

  "I don't see why not."

  Pierce continues down Main Street until he arrives at an empty spot on the side of the road and reverses into it, effectively parallel parking the giant truck.

  I jump down and am struck by the clean, cool and refreshing aroma. Pierce joins me from the other side and we continue down the sidewalk. I think now may be a good time to ask about his bizarre behavior.

  "Are you going to tell me what's going on?" I implore.

  “The birds singing sounds nice,” he deflects.

  “Right,” I sigh.

  He shifts toward me slightly, then turns back around. He digs in his pockets as he walks. I'm surprised by his anxious methods.

  "Your birthday is coming up, isn't it?" he asks.

  My muscles automatically tense at the news of my birthday. This will be my eighteenth birthday and marks another year since my parents were murdered.

  I take a deep breath to collect myself. "I guess it is."

  He nods his head slowly, as if this news burdens him somehow.

  "Why do you ask?" my tone solemn. I roll my shoulders. My back is sore, probably from one of my many falls. I always end up doing more damage than I think in the moment.

  "Just wondering. What do you want to do?" This conversation seems simple enough and yet, it makes the hairs on my neck stand tall.

  I am saved by Saxy's. We arrive at the blue Victorian-styled coffee shop. Pierce, very gentlemanly, opens the door for me. Only, he nearly breaks it off the hinges. It’s hilarious how strong Pierce is, because sometimes it's like he has absolutely no idea.

  "Muscles much?" We both smile. His smile is perfect and matches his masculine, bronzed face. Everything about Pierce is…perfect.

  He's different from Hunter in so many ways. Pierce has no blemishes, while Hunter is scarred. Pierce is the outgoing, popular guy, who has everything going for him. Hunter is closed off and cold around others—with the exception of some females, unfortunately.

  The powerful, sweet aroma of coffee envelops us, and it's as warm as a newly baked loaf of bread. The wood floors feel slick under my snow boats and surrounding us are the sounds of clinking and clanking glass, voices from the various clientele and the whistling noises from the espresso machines.

  As I scan the room, I'm overcome with a sudden nauseous feeling. It's sort-of like a hangover, which I have only fallen prey to once. It's a lot like the feeling I got when I was with Caity in class. Heat drains from my skin, leaving me chilled to the bone.

  "I'll order and you find a table. Sound good?" Pierce asks. Tension builds in his jaw. "Do you feel all right?"

  "Oh, yeah. I feel fine. Just haven't ate much today. I think it's a blood pressure thing or something." I laugh, but it's forced. "Seriously, I am fine," I say reassuringly.

  "I think you mean blood sugar,” Pierce laughs.

  I’m biting back the urge to run to the bathroom and hide. “Yeah, that, whatever,” I snap.

  Pierce’s eyes narrow. “I know the trick for blood sugar and/or pressure problems. I'll be right back."

  "Okay." My eyes follow him through the crowd. I love how caring Pierce is.

  He steers through the various little tables and groups of people. Almost everyone wears ski and snowboarding gear.

  I scan the crowd and finally spot a secluded booth. Saxy's employs a wild, invigorating beatnik-style decor with some large comfortable couches, pub-style tables with comfortable cushion seating and booths around the perimeter. I take a seat and throw my bag to the side by the wall, pushing it out of the way.

  Sitting relieves some of the icky in my stomach. I wait patiently. I turn on my phone, there's a picture of Pierce and Caity as my background. I was trying to get a photo of the mountain, but Pierce’s big frame got in the way and then he pulled Caity in too.

  "Who ya' talking to?" Pierce's voice jolts me back to reality.

  I flip my phone over, guiltily. "Oh, no one. Checking the time."

  "Are you in a hurry to get somewhere?" His eyebrows form a little frown.

  "No. Curious is all. I have a project to get started on." I think back to my earlier failed attempt at working on the history project. I'm slightly irritated that Hunter didn't tell me more about where he got his ninja moves, and that I still know pretty much nothing about him. Even after a week of spending time feeding horses, studying in the library, watching movies with Caity in my room, I still know nothing.

  "What project?" he asks and his tone is easier than before. He places a veggie panini in front of me and a thick cup of tea; foggy vapors rise from the powdery green liquid that fills the cup. I wonder what type of tea this could possibly be. I'm sure if Caity were here she could tell me.

  Pierce, on the other hand, is sporting a much less healthy sandwich with quadruple the meat and cheese of any regular portions, and hardly any veggies.

  "You better not choke again," I warn. He raises three fingers to his forehead in a salute. The gesture reminds me of Hunter's last week. It's so similar.

  "It's a history project that I have to research a ton for." He gives a little nod. "It's on my lineage. And, not just, 'my grandma was a vet and my great grandma was a farm girl’." I made air quotes. "No, it's like full on, past the dawn of the New World."

  "Seriously?" He makes an exaggerated grimace.

  "Seriously."

  "That sucks." He takes a huge chunk out of his sandwich.

  "Yeah, I guess. There is one good part to the whole bitch of project." I pick up my sandwich, but don't feel so hungry, so I try for my tea.

  "What's that?"

  "I’m working with Hunter. At least, I won't have to struggle alone," I share.

  "Really?" he sounds slightly disturbed.

  "What?" What the hell is his issue? He keeps flipping from hot to cold, then cold to hot. I consider throwing the sandwich at his head.

  "Nothing, you seemed irritated with him earlier, then you were cool, then mad, and now you’re happy to work with him." He throws down his food and wipes his hands on a napkin, like he's wiping grease from his skin instead of mayo.

  "Pierce. Seriously?" I exhale a long breath and take a sip of my tea. The warmth crawls up my arms. The second the hot liquid reaches my lips, I cry out, "Ow!" I yelp. "That's flippin' hot!"

  "Here," he takes my cup of tea and leaves the table. A few seconds later he brings it back. An ice cube floats in the cloudy, olive-colored liquid.
>
  "Thanks." I stir in the ice cube with my spoon. It only takes a minute to melt. "Now, will you ple...ase tell me what is going on?"

  "What do you know about Hunter?" he asks pointedly.

  "I know he's a new kid at the school, his mom’s a doctor and both parents are busy. He's from New York," I say what little I've learned about Hunter. I also know he's a ninja with super reflexes, takes everything way too seriously, is extremely protective and radiates warmth like the sun, but I don't mention those things.

  "You've spent the last couple weeks with him and that's all you know?" Pierce asks and I wonder where he's heading with this line of questioning.

  "Yes. And?" I prod.

  His faces droops.

  "What's your issue with Hunter? You’ve acted weird ever since you met him and now, you're acting like you hate him."

  Pierce cracks his neck. I know that’s his sign of irritation.

  "I don't trust him," he admits.

  "You brought me to dinner to tell me you don't trust Hunter?"

  I jump in my seat when a server drops a tray of a glasses. The sound of shattering glass ricochets. Pierce hops up to help, but is shoo’d away by an approaching employee who assures us they have it under control.

  Pierce sighs. "I don’t trust him. But the real reason I brought you here, is to tell you to stay away from him. He might be dangerous, Lexi.’

  "Ha. You seriously think you can order me around? And what do you mean, ‘He might be dangerous?’ You don’t even know him.”

  Pierce knows better than anyone that no one tells me what to do or orders me around. I don't submit to anyone.

  A tick works in his jaw. "Trust me and stay away from him."

  "Who do you think you are? Why? Tell me one valid reason to stay away from him."

  "He's bad news, Lexi."

  I shake my head in exasperation.

  "How would you know? You don't know anything about him."

  "I know more than you think."

  "What? What do you mean by that?"

  He glances up and slams his fist on the table, causing my teacup to rattle and me to lean back. He frowns.