by Alex Dafney
We follow her to the living room, taking a seat on the couch as she stands in front of us. Callie moves closer to me on the couch and hooks her arm through mine as Mom paces in front of us, hands clasped behind her back. She suddenly stops in front of us, her eyes darting between ours. “Have you told anyone about Ophelia?” She narrows her eyes at Callie as she shakes her head rapidly. “No. No, Ms. Oakes. I would never-.”
Mom holds up a hand to Callie as she pinches her eyes shut. She begins pacing the floor again. Callie sits up straighter and unhooks her arm from mine. “Ms. Oakes. I didn’t understand the gravity of Ophelia taking me with her on the journeys.” She looks from me to mom before continuing with a deep breath. “Now that I know there are severe consequences for O taking me to these places, I can assure you, I will never again travel with her, nor will I ever, ever, tell anyone about it.”
Mom gives her a scrutinizing gaze as she places her hands on her hips. “I truly hope that’s the case. If this were to ever come out-.” Mom lets out a shaky breath and squeezes her eyes shut. I stand from the couch and place my hand on her arm. When she opens her eyes, they’re brimming with tears. She pulls me into a hug as she gestures for Callie to join us. “You need to make a decision by tomorrow. I’m sure Callie knows all about it, so why don’t y’all take the day and discuss it.” She says as she pulls away from us.
Mom wipes under her eyes as I take in a shaky breath, blinking back my own tears. “I’ll make sure you’re both excused for the day.” She gestures her head toward the door. “Go on now. Go figure it out.” I smile at her and wrap my arms around her waist once more before grabbing my purse and following Callie to the front door.
Callie drives us to the mall a few cities over. My mind is whirling as we stride by the store fronts. She bumps my shoulder with hers and I look over at her. She has an almost sad expression on her face. “What are you going to do?” I don’t answer her as I steer us into Garfunkels. It’s a quaint little sit-down restaurant within the mall. I’m not the least bit hungry, but at least we can sit and talk.
The hostess sits us in a booth in a far corner, at my request, and places a few crayons on the table. This is what I love about Garfunkels. The tables are covered in paper and you get crayons whether you’re two, or ninety-two. I pick up a red crayon and begin drawing designs along the paper. “So?” I look up at Callie briefly before resuming my drawing. I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t think I’m going to join the Society.”
We sit in silence, both of us doodling on the tabletop. The waitress sits our drinks in front of us and we place our orders. I catch Callie's eyes as the waitress steps away. “What does that mean?” I reach for the green crayon in the middle of the table, sighing. “It means I won’t have the protection of the Society.” I begin accenting my design on the table with the green crayon. “But, what do you need protection from?” I look over the table to her and shrug again. “I don’t really know, but I know I don’t want to be another Society member who lives their entire lives following a highly specific set of rules and regulations.”
She takes a deep breath and sits back in her seat, causing me to look over at her. Her forehead is creased slightly, and she wears a frown. I place my crayon on the table and sit back, swiping my water from the table and taking a sip. “What are you thinking?” She shakes her head slightly. “What would you need protection from? That sounds scary AF!” I chuckle at her use of words as I shake my head. “Apparently the Society protects people like me from people who would exploit my gift.”
I shrug as I pick up another crayon. The waitress comes back to our table, placing our meals in front of us. I look at mine and push it to the side. I have no appetite with the topic at hand. I look over at Callie who’s pushing her food around on the plate, worry on her face, she looks at me across the table. “What do you mean by exploit?” I shrug again. “I really don’t know much about it. The Society is very secretive until you become a member, but being a member basically means giving them my life. I wouldn’t be able to go to college, or date anyone who’s not a shifter. I’d likely have to move to another location of their choosing, cut ties with everyone from my past, and be thrown into an arranged marriage.”
Callie gasps, her eyes wide. “An arranged marriage? What the fuck?” I nod in agreement. “Yep. They pair you with the best match to have a child with strong abilities.” I scoff as I place the crayon on the table, sitting back and folding my arms across my chest. Callie lets out a heavy sigh and shakes her head. “It doesn’t seem like much to think about to me.” I nod at her in agreement.
After our lunch, or lack thereof, since neither of us touched our food, I drive Callie and I back to my house. It’s still early in the day and Mom won’t be back from work for a few hours. We make our way through the house to my bedroom, closing the door and locking it behind us. I step in the closet and grab my box as Callie sits on the edge of my bed, wringing her hands in front of her. I sit in the floor, expecting her to follow suit, but she stays perched on the bed. I tilt my head to the side and exhale deeply. “What are you doing?”
She shakes her head without looking at me. “I don’t think we should be doing this anymore. Your Mom said this is punishable by-.” I cut her off as I stand and grab her hand, pulling her down to the floor in front of me. “It’s only punishable if you get caught and you’re a Society member. We’ve never caused a problem in our journeys and as long as we don’t start today, no one will know.” She gives me a nervous half smile. “If you say so, but this is the last time.”
I give her a grin as I rummage through the box, pulling a key chain out with a pink Pom Pom on the end. She raises an eyebrow as I dangle it between us. “Really?” I chuckle as I grip it in my palm, my hand tingling. “I could use a drink. Or ten.” She shakes her head but grips my hand. I close my eyes and focus on the keychain in my hand, transporting us to a fraternity party at the University of Alabama in 2005. Another thrift store find for the win.
I scan the scene in my mind, searching for a place for us to materialize without being detected. Finding an empty bathroom on the third floor of the fraternity house and placing us there. Callie drops my hand and turns to the mirror behind us, checking her hair. I pull the bathroom door open once she’s finished. We walk to the stairs and step over a rope across the top step. A guy from the landing below looks up at us. “No one’s supposed to be up here. How’d y’all get through?” I give him a flirtatious smile and flip my long blond hair over my shoulder as we descend the stairs, stopping in front of him. I smile brightly up at him as I place my hand on his arm.
He looks down at my hand and gives me a devious smile. “I’m sorry. The bathrooms downstairs were full. Tyler said we could use that one.” I tilt my head toward the stairs. He places a hand on my hip and smiles. “No worries, babe. Save a dance for me once I’m off duty?” I wink at him as I shimmy out of his grip, grabbing Callie’s hand and pulling her down the next flight of stairs.
The party is in full swing, like all the other times we’ve been here. Unlike most times though, this is exactly what I want to be doing. Drinking, flirting, and not thinking about tomorrow. I pull Callie behind me to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of vodka and a solo cup, pouring a generous amount of alcohol before finding a mixer along the table.
Callie reaches over, placing a hand on my arm. “What are you doing?” She half whispers. I shrug as I plop a straw in my drink, taking a generous pull. The alcohol burns on the way down my throat and I grimace before looking at her. “I’m going to get drunk tonight.” I raise my glass to her as she gives me a dirty look. Eventually she quits the stare down and fixes herself a drink, following me to the crowded living room that has become a makeshift dance club.
We stand off to the side against the wall, watching the people dancing. I make eye contact with a guy across the room leaning against the wall, his hands in his pockets. He’s handsome. Really handsome. Dark, disheveled hair, a tall, muscular build and light-colored eyes. He looks like
he doesn’t belong here. Like he’s just observing instead of partying with the masses. I smile lightly before throwing back the rest of my drink. I grab Callie’s hand and pull her back to the kitchen, making another. She gives me a ‘What the fuck?’ look as I roll my eyes at her. “What? I never have any fun!” I pretend to pout as she sighs, although she’s smiling.
We go back to the living room and resume our perch. We’re chatting loudly when a guy walks up to us. He eyes Callie up and down, smiling widely. He’s tall with blond hair and has a football jersey on. He’s not my type, but definitely would be on her radar. “Hey there, beautiful. Haven’t seen you around here.” Callie brushes her curly red hair behind her shoulder, giving him a flirtatious look as she sips her drink. “I’m not from here. Just stopped by for a bit.”
His eyes trail down her body, making me roll my own and scoff. Callie bumps my arm with hers in a discreet way, telling me to shut up without having to say it. He looks between the two of us, before settling his gaze on her. “Do you want to dance?” She doesn’t answer, simply passes her drink to me as he pulls her into the mass of bodies. I roll my eyes and sigh as I finish off her drink and mine, walking back to the kitchen to refill.
I stand at the table pouring a drink when I feel eyes on my back. I look over my shoulder and find the handsome guy from earlier leaning against the kitchen counter. Same stance. Hands in his pocket with a slight grin. I give him a little nod and go back to fixing my drink. When I turn to walk back into the living room, I collide into someone, sloshing my drink over my hand. “Shit.” I mumble as I grab a napkin from the table, cleaning my hand and cup and then dropping to the floor to clean what I spilled.
As I’m wiping the napkin across the floor in front of me a hand wraps around my wrist lightly, sending tingles up my arm. I jerk my hand back and lift my head to find him knelt in front of me, a sideways grin plastered across his face. I take in his light blue eyes and dimple in his left cheek. Damn he’s handsome. He raises an eyebrow at me. “I don’t think there’s any use in cleaning up the floor. Just look around.” He motions his head around and I follow his gaze. The place is a disaster. Cups all over, trash cans overflowing, stickiness on every inch of the floor.
I give him a slight smile as I shrug. “I was taught to clean up after myself.” He repositions his hand to grip mine, pulling us both to standing. Grabbing the napkin from my hand he tosses it into a trash can to our side, never moving his eyes from mine. He smiles, showing that dimple again as he places his hand between us. “I’m Cooper, by the way.” I look down at his hand, placing mine in his as I look back up to his smiling face. “Ophelia.” He grips my hand lightly and I feel the familiar tingles that pass through me before shifting.
I pull my hand back and clasp my drink in both hands in front of me, my eyes widening briefly before I compose myself. I clear my throat. “Are you part of the fraternity?” He chuckles as he shakes his head. “No. Just passing through.” I detect a bit of an accent, almost like he’s trying to hide it, but I can’t quite place where from. I raise an eyebrow at him. “Where are you from?”
He gives me that sideways grin again that shows the dimple in his left cheek. “A few towns over. You?” I narrow my eyes at him slightly. I know he’s not from around here. He’s obviously hiding something, but who cares? It’s not like I’m going to be around tomorrow. “I’m from a few towns over as well.” He chuckles slightly as he reaches behind me to the table and pours himself a generous helping of whiskey straight. Once he’s finished, he looks at me, really looks at me. “Do you want to accompany me to the backyard? It’s a tad loud in here.” I look through the doorway that leads to the living room and spot Callie. She has her head thrown back laughing at whatever, jock of the day, is saying as he grazes his lips along her collar bone.
Cooper follows my gaze, leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Your friend seems to be having a good time.” I step back to create some distance between us, looking him over. He seems nice enough and I can’t help but be attracted to him. I start walking toward the door that leads outside, looking over my shoulder I give Cooper a shy smile. I place my hand on the door and he places his hand on mine. “Allow me, love.” Sending those tingles through my hand once more.
I pull my hand back and let him open the door, stepping out to a modest at best, backyard. There’re only a few people standing in a circle next to the door, smoking cigarettes. The rest of the yard is deserted. I scan the yard and find two chairs next to a fire pit in the very back corner. Cooper places his hand on my lower back, guiding us to those chairs, sending tingles down my spine at his touch. Where in the hell are these tingles coming from?
I take a seat in one of the chairs as he kneels, working on the fire pit. Within a few minutes he has a fire going, stepping back and taking the seat next to mine. He lifts his glass and I do the same, nodding at each other. We sit in a peaceful quiet, gazing at the fire for a few moments. I turn to him, his light blue eyes meeting mine. “So, where are you from, really?” He chuckles as he looks at the fire. “I’m from all over.” He turns his head, staring at me with those penetrating eyes. “What about you?”
I scoff, tearing my eyes away from his intoxicating gaze to look at the fire in front of us. “You’re not exactly being forthcoming, but I’m from a town about two hours east of here.” He makes a humming noise, causing me to look over at him. He has an amused look on his face as he tips up his solo cup, finishing off his drink. He stands and grabs my cup from the arm of the chair. “Vodka and cranberry?” I nod as he turns to walk back to the house.
I take a deep, calming breath, closing my eyes. I’ve never felt this drawn to a guy before. When he touched me, I felt the same tingles I feel when I touch an object to send me back in time, only tenfold. I hear a throat clear and I pop my eyes open to find Cooper standing in front of me, drinks in hand. He smirks as he hands me mine, moving his chair closer to mine before sitting. “I thought you had fallen asleep.” I laugh before taking a sip of my drink. I never drink when I’m in time, but tonight, the day before my eighteenth birthday, the day before I make the biggest decision of my life, it seems like a good thing to do.
I look over at him. Since he moved his chair, he’s closer than he was. Our hands are right next to each other on the arms of our respective chairs. I give him a smirk. “Where are you really from?” He takes a deep breath as he stares at the fire for a moment. His intense eyes connect back with mine and it’s hard to breathe. Jesus Christ he’s handsome. His mouth pulls up into an almost smile, showing that dimple. “I’m originally from Scotland, but I haven’t been back there in many years.”
I nod, giving him a half smile. “I thought I detected a slight accent.” He laughs and brushes his dark hair back in his hand before looking over at me. “What brings you here tonight?” I chuckle slightly and raise my glass to him. “I needed a drink. I have a bit on my mind right now.” He nods knowingly. “Stressed about finals?” I resist the urge to laugh, only nodding in response. Of course, I’m stressed about finals. I’m at a fraternity party drinking it up. I’m definitely not worried about tomorrow…. Tomorrow being over a decade in the future.
Cooper places his hand on mine on the arm of the chair, grinning widely. “Don’t worry about finals, just worry about the present. It holds the key to the future.” My hand tingles under his and my spine straightens as he uses the words from the Society letter I read so many years ago. I remove my hand from under his and run it though my hair, trying to play off my nerves. I sneak a glance from the corner of my eye to find him staring at me. “That’s a strange thing to say.” I try to gauge his reaction from the corner of my eye as I keep my gaze fixed toward the fire pit. He simply shrugs. “Something I read a while back.”
I turn my head his way, our eyes locking on each other’s. I can’t explain the pull I feel toward him. I want him to kiss me. I want him to wrap his arms around me and pull me against him. It’s the alcohol. It’s definitely the alcohol. I try to convince myself as h
is face inches closer to mine. I close my eyes, holding my breath as I lean toward him.
His lips meet mine, and it’s the tingle I feel in my hand when I shift times a million. My mouth instinctively opens slightly, and his tongue gently darts in. As soon as our tongues meet, I see an image of Cooper. More like one of those flip books that you have as a kid. The ones where you flip the pages quickly and each picture is only slightly different than the last, causing a scene to play out.
The scene is Cooper in a different time, looking over his shoulder as two hooded figures follow him. Before the scene plays out, he jerks away from me, his eyes wide. “What the hell was that?” His accent a little more pronounced. I stare at him wide eyed, my mouth slightly open. There’s no way he saw the scene in my head, maybe I’m just a bad kisser. I’ve only kissed a handful of boys.
My cheeks turn red as I look down at the drink in my hands. I shake my head slightly. “I’m, uh, I’m a high school student. Sorry if you thought you were getting a more experienced make out partner for the evening.” At first my voice is embarrassed, but the more I speak the more pissed off I become. I look over and scowl at him, his eyes are still wide, staring at the fire, his head shaking ever so slightly.
I scoff as I stand up quickly. The alcohol catches up to me and I sway slightly. Cooper jumps up and wraps his arms around my waist, gazing down into my eyes as he steadies me. “How old are you, Ophelia?” I roll my eyes as I place my hands on his chest, urging him back. He steps back but keeps one hand on my hip. I let him because, dammit, I’m drunk.
He grabs my hand with his free hand, turning me and gently pushing me back into the chair I just vacated. Placing both hands on the chair arms, he lowers his head so he’s eye level with me. “I asked, how old are you?” He gives me a grin as I take in a shaky breath, staring into his eyes. “I’ll be eighteen tomorrow.” I barely whisper.