Sam started to sing “I Will Always Love You” to Josh, with a hand over his heart; at his side, Seth tried to French kiss him.
“And, Joey, call your mother,” Becca shouted over the ruckus of the boys. “She’s been freaking out all afternoon trying to reach you.”
Later, as I made my way to the phone, I walked past the pile of gifts on the dining-room table. A white flower amongst the wrappings caught my eye. I walked closer, curiosity getting the best of me.
It was a white lily. With the same black ribbon as before, and another little note tied to it.
Chapter Seven
Perfect Day to be Okay
I spent that night tossing and turning, thinking about that damned note on the flower. I hadn’t told anyone about it, especially not my mother earlier on the phone. She was already worrying enough over the news coverage of the bookstore incident. But I knew the boys would say I was overreacting or being silly, so I kept it to myself, at least for a while.
The message was like the first; another creepy love declaration:
Lovely Gray,
I hope you liked my other token of affection.
I wonder what it would feel like to have you all to myself.
You’re always surrounded by your boys. It is hard not to feel jealous.
It pains me so much having to share you …
So many people stand between us.
But I will prevail over them all,
And I’ll never give up on you.
From your true and faithful
Secret Admirer.
I’d always received fan letters; sometimes they were a bit on the kinky side, but this was different. Too personal for my taste, and with a creepy edge.
Could these lilies have been sent by the crazy boy from the bookstore? The two notes had a romantic slant to them, whereas the boy had no romantic feelings in his head – at least, not at the time I was looking.
After a turbulent night, I got up early the next day because I felt too jittery to stay in bed any longer.
The sun was shining brightly in the living room, and just for a moment it made me completely forget about creepy notes and Crazy Boy; my head didn’t even hurt any more. I sat on the couch and rested my head carefully on the cushions, appreciating how the morning light was bathing me in its warmth.
The boys were soon up and bustling around the house, preparing things for the barbecue we had planned to cook in the back garden, to kick off our official summer break. Every now and then one of the boys would again whistle The Bodyguard theme song to Josh, enjoying teasing him. Tiffany made an appearance in the garden wearing a lovely pair of light-blue shorts and a yellow, flowery, short-sleeved shirt that complemented her blonde curls perfectly. Later, Amanda also arrived, dressed in a colorful summer dress, quickly followed by Jamie with a couple of his friends. The day was especially warm and sunny, and it was nice to have everyone there. I spent time laughing and chatting with the boys, the memory of broken glass and eerie omens left completely behind.
As I left the group to get another drink, Harry approached, eyeing me cautiously. He was still acting a little weird. It seemed as if he was debating what to say; he bit his lower lip on the spot where his lip-ring used to be, which is something he always did when he was anxious. It was his nervous tick. The silence stretched out for a few seconds before he finally spoke.
“Hey, how are you doing?” he asked, watching me, worried. “Your head okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Stop worrying, I’m really okay, dude.” I tried to put on a brave face to reassure him, make him stop worrying about me.
“I’m so sorry, Joey,” he murmured quietly, gazing at me.
“What for, Harry? It was not your fault.”
“No, I mean, yesterday … after you got hurt.”
“Sorry about yesterday? Why?”
He glanced down quickly, like he was ashamed. “After they brought us upstairs, and you were hurt … I kept away from you. I didn’t want to upset Jackie, because she gets so jealous. I didn’t want her to make a scene; you had already been through so much. So I stayed at the back,” he explained. “But I shouldn’t have done that. I should’ve been there for you, by your side. No matter what Jackie thought. I’m really sorry.”
“Harry, come on. You don’t need to be sorry, I understand.”
“But … am I forgiven? For being a crappy friend yesterday?” he asked, his emerald eyes brimming a little.
“There’s nothing to forgive, Harry.” I squeezed him in a tight hug. “You know I love you, Harry Bear.”
I felt a hundred times better after clarifying things with Harry. I knew then that it was going to be a good day. We had no work, no crowds of eager fans, no worries, no thinking about creepy letters – or at least I was going to try not to think about them – and Harry and I were okay again. Nothing could put a dampener on my spirits today.
Tristan was in charge of grilling the steaks while Seth and Sam were in charge of eating as many ribs as they possibly could. Seth vowed to only stop eating after he exploded.
Amanda, beautiful as always, chatted amiably with Tiffany while holding firmly on to her plate of salad. Her long, slim, beauty queen silhouette got plenty of admiring looks as she ambled around the garden.
“Hey, Joey. Having fun?” Tiffany stopped to chat, smiling as she saw how much I was enjoying the free day out with friends. She had been pampering me all day long, still worried about my head and making sure I was feeling all right whenever she bumped into me in the garden. The sight of all the blood yesterday had scared her half to death.
“Yeah, loads. Today is such a perfect day,” I declared, beaming widely.
“Yeah, you look really happy today,” she mused.
“I’m just relieved that everything turned out okay, and you guys weren’t hurt. I was so worried in that room while I was waiting for Jarvis to get you guys upstairs!” I confessed.
“I’m glad everybody is okay,” she told me, giving my arm a reassuring squeeze. “I was pretty nervous too. But that’s in the past. What matters is that you’re happy now. We can all see it, it’s like you have a bright halo around you. It makes everyone drift towards you, like moths to a flame,” she confessed with a smile.
“Come on, Tiff. You’re joking, right? I don’t have any halo or whatever. I’m just me!” I laughed at her.
“You don’t see how all the boys chase after you all the time? It’s like they can’t stand being away from you for too long!” she said, amused. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s your thing. You’re a charmer. And the best thing is that you don’t even know you’re doing it, which makes it even more special.”
I shuffled my feet self-consciously. “Am not,” I protested. “I was never good at charming anyone, you know that. How many times did you have to help me with my seduction skills back at school? If it wasn’t for your lessons I would have never gotten together with Tristan, remember? Remember when I only wore boys’ clothes? I was hopeless. You saved me!” I said, throwing my arms up in the air.
She laughed at my theatrics. “Yes, you were hopeless back then. But look at you now! My baby girl is all grown up!” She pinched my cheeks proudly and we ended up reminiscing about the old days at our boarding school.
The afternoon passed by in a cheerful mood, with everybody joking, laughing, playing around and relaxing in the sun. By the end of the day, the boys were all excited about the raging party that was supposedly happening later at some trendy club downtown. Amanda and Tiffany were already discussing what clothes to wear, and everybody began drifting off to start getting ready for the night out.
I watched Tristan as he walked up the stairs with a spring in his step to take his bath, excited to be going out tonight. I hunched down on the living-room couch and sulked: I really didn’t want to go out tonight. I didn’t want to deal with people in another crowded and stuffy room. I wasn’t in the mood to dance, or drink, or tell people over and over again about what happened in that bookstore. I ju
st wanted to relax in my own home, drink some tea and go to bed.
“Hey, what’s the matter, Joey?” Harry asked as he walked by the couch and noticed me sulking by myself.
“Do you think there’s any way I could weasel out of going to this thing?” I mumbled, staring at my feet.
“You don’t wanna go?” he asked curiously, and then chuckled as I pulled a face. “If you don’t wanna go, don’t go.”
“Yeah, but … everybody’s going …”
“So?” he said, and then he paused, like he was just realizing something. “Stay here with me,” he proposed. “I’m not in the mood to go out, either. I think I’ll stay home tonight. You can stay with me.”
“Harry. You don’t need to do that. I know you want to go …”
“Please, Joe. I need to make it up to you. Let me do this?” He smiled and wrapped an arm around me.
“Okay,” I agreed, after seeing his pleading eyes. I was so relieved that I wouldn’t be on my own anymore.
“Great, then,” he said, slapping my back lightly, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek and standing up.
“Harry …?” I called after him, making him stop and turn to look at me. “Thank you.”
His smile was big and he shot me a quick nod before leaving.
I walked upstairs to talk to Tristan about my last-minute night-out cancelation.
He was leaning over the bathroom sink with a white towel wrapped low around his waist, smearing shaving cream over his jaw.
“Hey, I’m about to hit the shower. I’ll be ready in a minute,” he said, glancing quickly at me. “You don’t look too excited.”
“Yeah, I’m not really in the mood for this, Tris.”
He stopped mid-shave. “You don’t wanna go?”
“Sorry, no.”
He furrowed his brow, clearly disappointed at the news. “Are you sure? We never go to these kinds of parties with the boys … It might be fun. Plus, it’s a very selective guest list. All our close friends are going to be there.” He looked at me for a few seconds and then sighed in resignation. “Well … I guess you are right. It will be a loud night and probably bad for your head; we should stay home and get some rest.”
“What? No, you don’t need to stay with me,” I protested. “You can go with the boys. I’ll be fine here.”
“What are you talking about, Joe? I’m not going without you.” He turned to look at me, clearly annoyed.
“Why not? You’re not glued to me. Just because I’m not going it doesn’t mean you can’t go, either. We have been to lots of events before without each other!” I felt bad; I could see in his eyes how much he wanted to go out tonight.
“That’s different. Those were job-related events,” he stated, leaning his hip against the sink and crossing his arms over his chest with a stubborn scowl. “If you’re not going, I’m not going. I’m not leaving you here all alone, especially after what happened yesterday.”
“That’s very sweet of you, Tris, but you don’t have to worry. Harry is going to stay with me. He’s not in the mood for going out, either,” I reasoned.
He pursed his lips, not really sure what he was going to do.
“Come on, Tris. Please say you’ll go? I’ll feel like crap if you have to stay here because of me, and then you’ll resent me later for having missed all the fun. I’ll feel obligated to go, just so I won’t ruin the night for you,” I exclaimed, moving closer to him and wrapping my arms around his waist. “Please, Tris. Say you’ll go? This way I’ll be happy about staying and you’ll be happy about going, so we’ll both be happy. What do you say?” I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes.
He chuckled and, after a moment, conceded defeat. “All right, Buttons. I’ll go.”
“Yay!” I exclaimed and stood on my tiptoes, giving him a small peck on the lips, getting shaving cream all over my face. He laughed and wiped the cream off my nose before going back to his shaving.
When everybody was ready to leave, Tiffany whined a little about me and Harry not going, but she dropped it when she saw how adamant I was about staying home.
It was just me and Harry tonight.
“So, are you ready to kick some zombie ass?” he asked, waving our favorite video game in his hands, after everybody had left.
“Hell, yeah!” I shouted happily.
Chapter Eight
Bumps in the Night
After a few hours spent contentedly killing zombies, Harry and I decided to call it a night, and I went for a quick shower before hitting the sack. I had the water running and was feeling quite happy and relaxed when a shiver ran up my spine, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up: that eerie feeling was back, putting me uncomfortably on edge again.
I shook my head and tried to get back to enjoying my steamy shower. Then I caught a shadow moving by the bathroom door. It was so subtle and fast, I could almost swear it was only a trick of the light.
I quickly turned off the shower and stepped into the middle of the bathroom, wrapping a towel around me in a protective gesture. I was about to shout to see if there was anybody outside in my room when I realized that would be the most dumb thing in the world to do. What was I? Stupid? This wasn’t a horror movie! And if it was, I sure as hell wasn’t going to be one of those bimbo girls that always got themselves killed off doing idotic things in the few first minutes. If there really was a psycho in my room, he wasn’t going to reply, “Sure, I’m right here, watching TV and waiting for you to get out of that freaking long shower. By the way, be a doll and toss me that knife there on the nightstand, will ya? I wanna hurry up with the atrocious murder; my favorite show is about to start!”
Maybe I really was losing my mind here, seeing shadows lurking in the dark, waiting to get me. But what if that boy from the bookstore had broken into the house and was here now, waiting for me, in that dark room? I looked around urgently, searching for something I could use as a weapon.
As it turned out, bathroom facilities aren’t particularly great at doubling as weapon storage. Unless I wanted to soap the killer to death, or tie him up with toilet paper, there was nothing I could use to protect myself. Curses!
Well, I guess I did have my martial arts training to put to use. But then again, martial arts were all fine and dandy until the murderous bastard appeared with a gun in his hands. No amount of karate chops can counter a bullet to the head …
I stepped out of the bathroom into the darkness of my room, and turned on the lights. There wasn’t anyone there.
Yeah, that’s what the murderous dude wants me to think, right? To relax and let my guard down. Then he’ll be inside the closet or under the bed, waiting to murder me … with that knife he left on the nightstand while he was watching TV!
I searched under the bed, and then inside the closets. If this had been a horror movie, a scary soundtrack would have been playing in the background this entire time.
It had just been a tricky play of lights and shadows again. There was nothing to worry about. Maybe if I repeated this to myself a dozen times, over and over, I could convince my jittery nerves …
After I was done inspecting my room, I quickly got dressed and left my bedroom to inspect the dark living room downstairs. Silhouettes and smudges of light danced around the quiet room, branches and leaves on the trees outside creating shadows that played over the walls and floorboards. Suddenly I could see things moving everywhere, and hear suspicious, creaky noises teased out from all around the room, with unseen threats lurking in the corners of my eyes.
Panic started to rise up in my chest and my heart pounded. My body’s instincts screamed for me to run. Run. Run! You need to get out of here! Now!
I was completely taken over by fear as I bolted upstairs for Harry’s room, yanking the door open and running inside without thinking twice. His room was completely dark, so I turned on his lights, shouting his name at the top of my voice.
Harry shot upright in his bed, momentarily blinded by the bright lights bursting unexpectedly through the
room.
“WHAT? What? Is it a fire?” he asked groggily, trying to understand what the hell was going on. I glanced around his room, searching for lurking shadows or any murderous strangers holding big scary knives, but found nothing out of place. Only Harry staring back at me with a stunned expression.
Boy. Talk about being embarrassed now!
“Erm … Sorry about barging in like that. I-I just wanted to know … if I could stay with you until Tristan comes back?” I mumbled, all red in the face. No way in hell was I going to stay in my room all alone tonight.
Maybe I hadn’t left the bookstore incident so far behind me after all. I’d thought I was over it, but this embarrassing meltdown was proof that maybe that wasn’t the case.
I was glad when Harry agreed to stay with me. I would have been scared out of my mind if I’d been all alone in this house. Harry sighed, relieved that the house wasn’t in fact on fire, and patted a place by his side on the bed. I switched the lights off and hurried to sneak under his covers. Somehow being in the dark with Harry by my side didn’t seem so scary now. I pulled the covers up to my neck and rested my head comfortably over his chest. Harry always slept with no shirt on, with his tattoo of green waves crashing endlessly over red licking flames. After I had finished counting the waves on his chest, I started to count how many times his chest would rise and fall, and I guess I fell asleep in the middle of counting.
I woke up to the sound of voices and laughter coming from downstairs, and after a couple of seconds I drifted back to sleep again. It was probably Tristan and the boys getting back from the club, I thought, in my slurred, cotton-candy hazy head. The bed was too warm and too comfortable; I snuggled back against my pillow, giving in to sleep once again. Tristan should be coming back to sleep with me in a minute.
A few more minutes must have passed before someone turned the lights on. I squinted my eyes as a harsh, angry, female voice shouted across the room, making me wake with a start.
The Lost Girl Page 6