by C.K. Bryant
* * * * *
As grateful as Kira was for school to be over, she couldn’t help lingering in the school parking lot until Lydia finished in the photo lab. After school was the only time Lydia had access to the developing equipment without someone looking over her shoulder—and she liked the privacy.
Kira didn’t mind waiting. The longer it took her to get home, the less time she’d have to spend avoiding her mother’s boy-toy, Paul. With any luck, they’d already be gone on their weekend jaunt to Vegas. Saving money was against Paul’s religion. At least that’s what her mom said.
Kira climbed up to sit on the hood of Lydia’s multi-colored, rust-bucket of a car and pressed the ear-buds connected to her iPod into her ears. A little Colbie Caillat would help relax her nerves, especially after the day she’d had. She leaned back on her elbows, closed her eyes and let the afternoon sun splash across her face.
But as much as she tried, she just couldn’t get the image of her hands, bound and bleeding, out of her head. It wasn’t like it was the first time she’d had brain wave interference—blips, as she called them. For her it was normal. Except this blip was different. She could feel the rope cutting into her wrists and smell the pungent odor of damp decaying wood.
The hair on Kira’s arms pricked against her skin and she suddenly felt as though someone was watching her. She sat up and looked around the lot, then at the park across the street. Most of the kids from school had already left, but the few that remained certainly weren’t paying attention to her. She rubbed her jacket sleeves with her hands to settle the goose bumps, but a minute or so later, the feeling returned.
This time she pulled the buds from her ears before looking. She scanned the park again, searching further off in the distance. If she squinted, she could barely make out a dark silhouette leaning against a tree. She blinked once and he was gone. Just like that. Vanished.
“Okay, then. I think that makes it official. I’m nuts.”
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Lydia asked from behind her.
Kira would have jumped, but she’d heard Lydia’s keys jangle a few seconds before she spoke. “I’m serious. I swear I just saw a guy . . . aw, never mind. Why are you out so early?”
“Because Mr. Photography himself gave me a special assignment. He said I have a unique eye for detail and wants to see what I can do with color.”
“Color? I thought all your pictures were in color?”
“We’ve been studying black and white, so I’ve been using one of his older cameras on stills in the room and developing them the old fashioned way. Next week we start color, and if I can get some good shots with my digital this weekend, he’ll use them to teach the class and I’ll get extra credit.”
“Nice!” Kira ran her fingers through her long red hair and struck a seductive pose. “You can start with this gorgeous face.” She puckered her lips like a fish and winked.
“Ha! You wish. He wants nature, like flowers or trees or clouds or . . .” Lydia snapped her fingers. “I’ve got it. Black Creek. The wild flowers are in full bloom up there and—”
“Black Creek? Now you’re the one who’s nuts. You can’t go up there alone.”
Lydia leaned closer and flashed a mischievous grin. “I wouldn’t have to if you went with me.”
Kira slid off the hood and stuffed her iPod in the front pocket of her jacket. “No way! You wouldn’t catch me within ten miles of that place. You’ve heard the rumors.” Traipsing around Black Creek Mountain wasn’t exactly on Kira’s list of fun things to do, not with its newly acquired reputation. The newest theory—and by far Kira’s favorite—was that hikers had seen Sasquatch or some other mythical creature.
Lydia laughed. “Don’t tell me you believe all that crap. What was the last story? Aliens? Or was it Big Foot?” Lydia raised her arms above her head, leaned toward Kira and growled. “Maybe it’s the Boogie Man.”
Kira slapped Lydia’s arm away. “Tease all you want. I still won’t go.”
“Yes, you will.” Lydia opened the driver’s side door and threw her backpack onto the seat.
“What are you gonna do, tie me up and throw me in the trunk of your car?”
“Nope. Just remind you how much you love me.” Lydia winked.
There it was again—a hint of something different in Lydia’s green eyes. A subtle flicker of ice behind their warmth. Something hidden deep inside that Kira couldn’t quite grasp.
Then it was gone.
It wasn’t the first time Kira had seen the change and it drove her crazy not being able to figure out what it meant. Whenever she asked Lydia about it, she just shrugged it off and acted like it was nothing, but it bothered Kira. Not because she didn’t trust Lydia, but because she was the only person Kira couldn’t read.
For Kira, eyes were everything. Not just the variation of color, but what she saw in them—or didn’t see.
Long, dark lashes widening with excitement. The subtle spark of happiness. A flirtatious wink that meant far more than a hint of attraction. Even the steady gaze of curiosity held no mystery for her. It was a game she played to take her mind off the constant barrage of feelings that twisted in her gut or sent tingling threads of uneasiness scurrying through her veins whenever something seemed out of place. The kind of feelings she’d had off and on all day.
“Hel-lo?” Lydia said, waving her hand in front of Kira’s face.
“Oh, sorry. Just weighing my options. The whole ‘love you’ thing isn’t working for me. I think I’d rather stay home and drive bamboo shoots under my fingernails.”
Lydia placed a hand over her heart. “Ouch!”
Kira laughed. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I’d do almost anything for you, you know that.”
“Just not Black Creek.”
Kira shook her head. “Sorry. Big chicken here, remember?”
“Fine. I guess I’ll have to go alone, then.” Lydia slid into the car, closed the door and cranked the window down. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay. Big Foot and I will get along just fine.”
“Ahh, I hate when you do that. You know I can’t take guilt.”
Lydia propped her arm on the window frame and leaned her head out. “Just think how guilty you’ll feel if something horrible happens and you’re not there to save me.” She jutted out her bottom lip like a two-year-old set on getting her way. “Pretty please?”
But before Kira could answer, Lydia’s focus shifted to something behind Kira and her smile faded. “I gotta go. I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Noon-ish. Okay?” The engine started and before Kira could say anything else, Lydia had backed out of her parking place, her bald tires squealing on the blacktop.
Kira looked around to see what could have set her off, but nothing had changed. The uneasy feeling was back, though. And so was the tingling sensation. She pulled the sides of her jacket together and wrapped her arms around her torso.
Maybe it was time she went home.