by B D Grant
“Who are you staring at?” Ashley asks me.
“Them,” I say nodding my head in their direction. “They’re the ones I was telling you about. Do you know them?”
Ashley looks over each of them without fear of being caught staring. “No, they aren’t students. They’re like the extra security or something. You weren’t lying. They’re hot.” She doesn’t stop looking over each of them.
“And you said I was drooling.”
Cassidy emerges from the side door, farther down the building by the guys. She looks mad. My guy’s back straightens when he sees her walking up. She’s not going to get away without talking to me. I walk toward her as she’s starts in on the guy talking to the girls.
“I know you aren’t related to any of them, are you?” She asks harshly.
He looks down at her trying to still look cool in front of the girls. I don’t know him but its clear Cassidy is the top dog even with him being much larger in stature.
“No ma’am. I was making sure they haven’t come across any suspicious activity.” Cassidy turns to my guy and calls out across the space between her and the other two guys, “Do I look like an idiot, Dillon?”
His name is Dillon. He glances at the guy by the girls. His eyes say, Thanks a lot. Dillon turns back to Cassidy. “No, of course not. It won’t happen again.”
“You aren’t with him all the time so don’t make promises you can’t keep.” She moves back to the curly haired guy that has lost some of his vigor. “As for you,” she points her finger at him. “If you try to flirt with CHILDREN,” pointing at the girls who look on with a mixture of horror and amusement, “again you’ll be moved to cleaning the men’s toilets.”
He nods.
Cassidy does nothing from what I can tell but I feel the tension grow immensely around us. She sounds perfectly calm and normal when she says, “Are you trying to communicate with me?”
“Yes, yes Ma’am. I’m sorry I won’t do it again.”
The group of girls, probably in fear that they will be next, disperse. I take a step back from her, rethinking my decision to talk to her. She turns around hearing me move behind her. Too late. If I had a backbone when I walked up to her it is long gone now. I panic and say that only thing I can think of, “Nice heels.”
She hisses through clenched teeth, “Thanks.”
She’s visibly calming down now that I’ve distracted her. I suddenly see it. The tiny window to talk to Cassidy without making her mad.
“I’d like to come by later if it isn’t too much trouble.” And call my mom but I don’t say that.
She exhales and a smirk appears, “Sure.”
This is not what I was expecting. It’s as if she doesn’t mind me cornering her or talking to her for that matter.
“Only if you come right after your last class,” she says stepping around me and walks off. As she’s opening the door to go inside she looks at me out of the corner of her eye and full on smiles. I should have been giving her compliments the whole time.
“Such a buzz-kill.” Curly hair says.
Dillon squares his shoulders and glares at him. “You were out of line Ben. If you pull that crap again cleaning toilets will be the least of your worries.”
“If that’s a threat, I accept. You were lucky last time,” Ben says with no hint of being intimidated.
Dillon and Ben stare at each other. Ben is slightly bigger then Dillon but if I had to bet it would be on Dillon. The third guy, the bald one, has been quiet the whole time. He and I are close to each other now that Cassidy has left. He has his eyes on me when I look to see if he is going to step between them before a fight breaks out.
“This happens every time they’re together. It’s how they express their love for each other,” he tells me softly.
He isn’t bald from a lack of hair but by choice. Neither Dillon nor Ben acknowledges his remark.
“They must love each other a lot,” I tell him.
He smiles at me. Ben inches closer to Dillon with a “bring it” expression. I step back a little, acting uneasy, “Are they going to kiss right here in front of everyone?”
Baldy laughs, following my lead. He takes a step back acting grossed out saying, “It sure looks like it. We should give them some privacy.”
Other students including Ashley are looking at them, but only a few. I mirror the uncomfortable expression baldy is giving me as he walks closer to me.
“Okay,” I tell him. “but I don’t think if we left it would give them the alone time they want.”
We turn and start walking away. “I’m Bryant,” he says.
“Nice to meet you. I’m—”
Dillon interrupts, “You’re not funny, Bryant. If you think I’m going to let you pull a Ben. Think again.” Dillon backs away from Ben. “This isn’t finished. Don’t you dare move from this spot,” Dillon says pointing to where Ben is standing.
Dillon walks over to us. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Me?” Bryant asks. He motions to me trying to share the blame and says, “I wasn’t the only one talking crap.”
Dillon looks at me like I just showed up. I look into his eyes and wonder, “What am I doing?” I should have left when Cassidy did.
I look at the other students standing around and even more are watching us now. Ashley is still among them and looks away as soon as I make eye contact with her. She won’t be any help getting me out of this.
Dillon says something to me drawing my attention back into their circle. He’s smiling slightly. “And so you know, I would never kiss that face,” he says glancing at Ben for a second who’s standing right where he left him.
I follow his gaze to Ben. When I look back to Dillon he’s watching me. “You must be new or else you would’ve known to stay away from Cassidy Sipe when she’s like that,” he tells me.
“I’m not scared of her,” I lie. “The worst she could do is fight me and we’ve already done that.”
Dillon and Bryant's eyebrows jump up.
I shift my weight to the other foot. I really hope my hair still looks as good as it did this morning once I fixed it with both of them looking at me. I put my hand out to Dillon. “I’m Taylor Jameson.”
“Dillon,” he says, shaking it.
“Dillon Weston,” Bryant corrects him looking at me expectantly.
“You’re really asking for it,” Dillon growls.
“What?" Bryant asks. "Is the Weston fan club full or something? She’s only going to ask for your autograph.”
They both look at me like they’re waiting for something.
“Do people really ask for your autograph?” I ask Dillon.
Bryant looks from me to Dillon like he can’t believe I asked that. “She doesn’t know who you are, dude.”
Dillon nods, putting his hands in his pockets. “I am cool with that. I’m going to check in with the others,” he tells Bryant.
“Alright, I’m going to stay here until our relief shows,” Bryant says walking up to the nearest tree and leaning against it.
“Don’t get in any trouble. Ben’s coming with me.” He waves Ben over to join him. “Nice to meet you, Taylor,” he tells me as he and Ben walk away.
“Nice to meet you too,” I say a bit too loud.
The chime goes off. Students begin going back inside the buildings.
“So, should I ask for an autograph next time?” I ask Bryant, who’s walking out from under the shade of the tree.
He smiles back at me, “That’s not a bad idea.”
He strolls with me on my way to class. “I think you might have hurt his feelings,” he says. “You’re the first person to not bombard him with questions when finding out who he is.”
“So you’re not students here?”
"No, we’re the security detail. I mostly break up fights between the Dynamar students but my actual job is to ensure that there are no breaches in security."
My mind instantly goes to my bag that is hidden in my room. “Like
someone bringing a gun?"
I’d played this scenario over and over in my head when I got here. Would I be expelled if they found my gun? I couldn’t act like I didn’t know it was in my bag because one lie and it would be over. "That's not a big concern since we don't have traffic coming in and out. It's more like the random hunter that gets lost and wonders off their lease. They can end up closer then we'd like."
“Soo, Dillon is sought after because he's the head of security?"
He chuckles, “Ben thinks he should be.”
“Why is he so popular then?”
When we get to the doors Bryant stops. “I take it you’ve never heard of the Westons.”
“No, but I take it they’re well known.”
He opens the door for me. “People want to know Dillon because of his family. His mother was council member Weston.”
I haven’t heard of the name but hearing council member I know it isn’t going to be good. Bryant continues, “There was a point in time when council members were targeted by Rogues. Rogues were executing them.”
“Cassidy's family,” I say thinking back to New Orleans.
He nods, "Yes, but what makes the Weston name so well known is that in all other cases up to that point there was no big struggle between those being murdered and those killing them. Dillon’s father changed that. He not only fought, but also managed to kill both of his attackers. They were attacked during the night at their safe house. The exact events are unknown but they think Council Member Weston had managed to alert her husband before she was killed. Dillon’s father took a bullet to the shoulder before the struggle was over. Because the Weston's were in hiding, in the middle of nowhere, by the time help came he had bled to death." Bryant falls silent for a moment. "I never knew them but from all accounts his parents were kind, good people who just wanted their community to be a place worth living. Dillon was with his parents when it all happened. He was a baby of course, but ever since he has been known for what occurred that day. It gave Seraphim the irrefutable proof that it was Rogues behind the killings.” Bryant looks serious as he watches the last of the students walking past us to class. He backs away from the door, changing his expression to a small smile, “So, no mom jokes around him.”
I get to class right as the teacher is about to close the door. I get to my seat and try to act as if I'm paying attention when class begins. However Dillon and his family stay on my mind. I imagine what his dad looked like. I picture him as tall and muscular as Dillon but with gray hair sprinkled over the sides with maybe some facial hair where Dillon has none. He would walk with the same dignified stride as Dillon. When the instructor turns back to the projector Ashley leans close to me. “What did you talk to them about?”
“The weather.”
"Come on. I would tell you,” she insists.
"I learned about the Westons.”
"Oh."
She straightens up in her chair like that explained so much. I'm not satisfied though. I take out a paper from my binder.
“How many people did the rogues kill?” I write.
I fold it and pass it to Ashley. She tosses it back.
“IDK,” is all she wrote below my question.
I go back to watching the teacher. I’m not paying attention. I feel something brush my arm. I look down and there's another piece of paper.
“Not as many as everyone first thought. More people picked up and left without a word. Their neighbors and families assumed that some of the messes left behind were signs of a struggle but now that some of the missing people have resurfaced we know it was less than fifteen.”
I smile and nod with satisfaction to Ashley.
I wouldn’t continue living where people were being rampantly killed. Especially if it was by people you couldn’t see coming. Your next-door neighbor comes to your door to borrow your drill set and the next thing you know you’re dead and your kids have been taken. No thank you.
“It’s about time.” Cassidy tells me as I walk in her office.
I came directly from my last class. “I got here as soon as I could.”
She pulls her sleeve back, examining her watch, then picks up the phone on her desk. “I have a meeting in fifteen minutes so make this short and sweet,” she tells me. She dials then passes me the phone.
A male voice answers, “Yes.”
I cover the receiver with my hand. “It’s a dude.”
Cassidy tolls her eyes. “So ask to speak with Catherine.”
I uncover the phone. “Is Catherine available?”
“Who’s calling?”
“Taylor, her daughter.”
“Oh, I’ve heard a lot about you. Hold on a sec.”
I hear the phone being shuffled around. Cassidy offers me the chair behind her desk. She takes her laptop with her as she walks around the opposite side of the desk.
“Taylor,” my mom says anxiously on the other line.
“Hey Mom!” I smile big at Cassidy. Her straight face doesn’t crack. She sits down on her love seat by the office door and begins working on her laptop.
In a typical concerned-parent voice Mom asks, “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good.”
“Oh, thank God,” she exhales.
“I haven’t heard from you since I got here. I wanted to make sure everything was okay.”
“Sweetheart, we’re staying low. There hasn’t been a day that I haven’t thought about you but I don’t want to compromise the school if something were to happen to us.”
“Who was it that answered the phone?”
“The person I told you I was coming here to question. He was in hiding like us and was just as much in the dark about what’s going on.”
“What’s going on?” I ask. Cassidy stops typing on her laptop.
“I can’t talk about it over the phone.”
“What can you tell me then?” Cassidy resumes her typing.
“You can tell me how school is going?”
“I like it. Ashley is my best friend and she’s an invisible, I mean Cachelerie.” “Awesome. How are your grades?”
“Good. Were you able to find Mr. Thomas?”
The male voice says something in the background and Mom whispers, “No, we didn’t.”
“Did you find the Seraphim he was going to warn.”
“No. We think they may have been found also. There was—” A door on her end opens and shuts. I can hear mom’s muffled voice like she’s covering the receiver. She gets back on the phone, “I have to let you go, sweetheart.”
“So soon? Is everything okay?” Cassidy looks at her watch.
“Yeah, I just can’t stay on the phone.” She’s lying.
“Don’t lie to me, Mom.” A door shuts again.
“Taylor, listen to me. I’m just fine. You don’t have to worry about me. I will see you soon. I promise. I love you so so much.”
“I love you too.”
The line goes dead. I lower the phone from my ear and stare at it.
Cassidy gets up from the love seat and walks over. She takes the phone from me and puts it on the cradle. I walk around the front of Cassidy’s desk.
“Happy?” She asks setting her laptop on her desk.
“I was thinking we would be able to talk more.”
“You’re not one of those people that are never satisfied, are you?”
“I’m satisfied. I got to talk to her.”
She pulls her chair up to her desk and takes a seat. “You’re welcome.”
“Thanks,” I tell her fiddling with a glass paperweight on her desk. “I mean it, really. Uncle Will wasn’t going to help me out anytime soon and I know you didn’t have to.”
She leans over her desk and takes the paperweight from me. “He’s unbelievably busy.” She looks at her watch. “We have some time. Take a seat. How are you doing?”
I sit down in the chair that is in front of her desk. “I’m doing good. Ashley was exaggerating about me having a tough time.”
She stares intently at me. “Was she exaggerating about your ability advancing?”
I shift uncomfortably. That’s why Ashley didn’t want to hang out after we left the auditorium. She knew it would come out that she told Cassidy exactly what I asked her not to. What are friends for? Ashley had asked me. What are friends for indeed?
I play dumb. “I don’t know what you mean?”
She looks down at her desk and straightens the pen and personal calendar next to her laptop. “You’re lying and there’s no need for it. My cousin could have told anyone but she didn’t. She told me.”
“It’s nothing,” I tell her not knowing how much Ashley shared.
“Being able to accurately identify a lie is nothing; nothing for a Veritatis. Being able to get the reason behind a lie is most definitely something.”
I look over her desk then the bookshelf behind her, and anything to keep from having to meet her gaze. Cassidy takes the hint.
“You don’t want to tell me. I get it. This kind of thing can be confusing, scary even. If you ever want someone to talk to I’m available. And between you and me, I can help.”
She can help. What does that mean? Is she telling me this isn’t the first time she’s heard of such a thing? Wait until I see Ashley again, she’s going to get it. My heart rate jumps up. I can feel it. I’m getting mad. Change the subject.
“Why did my mom have to go to Dry Creek?”
“I’m sure that she felt like she had too.”
“She didn’t have too. Uncle Will or you could have gone. It wasn’t all up to her.”
“Taylor, your mom volunteered,” she says sharply. “No one made her do anything.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. She wouldn’t volunteer to leave me.”
“I doubt it was an easy decision for her. I would think she probably felt guilty because of your father,” she says.
My dad was taken by these people. Why would my mom feel guilty about that? “My father?”