Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy)

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Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy) Page 7

by Tabatha Vargo


  “Didn’t look like nothing to me,” she clicks her tongue.

  Adam and Kale pull out ahead of us and Bernie tells me that the full-sized thunderous truck they’re riding in belongs to Adam.

  “Kale said it was an early Christmas present from his dad. Pretty nice Christmas gift, if you ask me.”

  On the drive back to my house, she fills me in on everything that was going on between Kale and her during the movie. Thankfully, it was too dark to see that Kale was feeling-her-up in the theater the entire time.

  “Gawd! I was sitting right beside y’all! He’s such a pervert. Couldn’t he have at least waited until you were alone?” I pretend to gag.

  “What can I say? He can’t keep his hands off of me,” she playfully pops her collar.

  We laugh.

  When I get home, I creep silently through the house and then dress for bed. With Sire right next to me, I fall asleep in minutes. Lucky for me, I dream of Adam.

  Chapter 8

  The Greatest Gift

  It’s November, and the holidays are right around the corner. We don’t exchange gifts in my house, but it’s still nice to see everyone around you in a cheerful, giving mood. Not to mention, my sixteenth birthday’s coming up. On December thirty-first I’ll officially be one year older. Sixteen’s supposed to be a big deal—not so much.

  Like the old saying goes, change is inevitable. Things are definitely changing at school. It seems like now that Bernie and I hang out, people are becoming comfortable with me—some even talk to me. Apparently, Bernie’s big, fun personality is too hard for people to ignore. The social butterfly in her can’t be suppressed and so she flitters around school talking to everyone.

  Still, I remain my silent self. Being shy is something I can’t shake. I’ve become what people want me to be. People automatically assume that I’m quiet, so I always stay quiet. They believe that I’m a strange girl, so I’ve always tried to be strange, which isn’t hard for me. People assume that I’m a loner, so I’ve always been a loner. I stick to myself—it’s what’s easy.

  Some changes take time—being social with these people will take me a while. After years of complete seclusion I have no idea how to socialize, but at least I’m trying. With Bernie it’s different, she pushes me to socialize—she takes my choice away completely, which I kind of like.

  Another change at school—my little lonely bench outside isn’t so lonely anymore. It went from just me, to me and Bernie, and it now has the addition of Kale, too. He and Bernie have become inseparable since movie night.

  The bad news is…Kale’s totally flirty and annoying. The good news is…him coming around more often means I see Adam more. Not that it matters since we still don’t really talk to each other. After the “holding hands” thing at the movies, neither of us knows how to act—it’s super awkward.

  Bernie keeps asking me if Adam and I have issues with each other.

  “You could cut the tension between you two with a knife. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing that I know of,” I blow it off.

  I change the subject to something that involves fashion or fashion magazines. That backfires in my face—the only thing it gets me is a guaranteed make-over from Bernie and her mom.

  Smooth move, Mage!

  I brought my lunch today, so I don’t have to go through the dreaded lunch line. Just a quick visit to the soda machine right inside the cafeteria and then I can go straight outside. I’m happy that I don’t have to spend more than three minutes in the packed room.

  I put my money in the machine and press the button for a bottle of water. Nothing happens. I smack the front of the machine with my hand—still nothing. I smack it again. Stupid machine!

  “Come on, Wednesday Adams, can we move it along already?” an unfamiliar, male voice says behind me.

  I turn around to see who it is and a strange redheaded boy stands there with his hands in his pockets. He looks at me like I’m an idiot. The guy beside him, someone who does look familiar to me, taps the newbie redhead on the arm.

  “Dude, don’t mess with her,” he whispers.

  He turns his head away so I can’t see his mouth moving.

  Ignoring them, I turn and try again to get my bottled water—still nothing. As I dig through my bag for more money, I hear the familiar boy whisper something else before the new guy gets loud.

  “Why? What the hell’s she going to do? Stomp on my toes and bite my ankle like a little rat dog? Dude, I eat girls like her for breakfast…literally.”

  I swing around at his rude words and he attempts a flirty smirk as he nods at me. It’s not cute at all—if anything it makes me nauseated.

  “Damn, now that I’m getting a good look at you, you’re kind of a sweet lookin’ little thing,” he taps the other guys arm jokingly. “You know what they say about those freaky, goth girls, don’t you?” He runs his hands through his orange-tinted hair and licks his lips in an obvious manner.

  It’s really gross to watch.

  Disgusted, I turn to walk away. He grabs my arm stopping me—his fingers dig into my skin.

  “They say little freaks like you are wildcats in bed. Want to let me find out if what they say is true?” he says in a sloppy, wet whisper.

  I wipe his sprayed spit from my cheek. His breath is hot and smells like cigarettes. My stomach rolls and I feel my anger starting to build. A spark starts in my shoulder instantly. I imagine myself zapping his ginger ass across the cafeteria.

  “If you don’t get your damn hands off of her, I swear I’ll break every one of your fingers…slowly,” Adam’s deep voice is welcomed.

  I turn to face him. His eyes which are usually flirty and green, have taken a ferocious turn. They’re dark evergreens and he’s looming over the vile boy like a tall, pissed off tree. His nostrils flare with his hard, angry breaths. My little, second grade protector isn’t so little anymore.

  The new boy lets go of my arm roughly. I rub the spot where his fingers were digging in.

  “My bad, Dude,” he holds up his hands in surrender then turns and walks off.

  As he’s walking by, Adam reaches up to run his fingers through his dark hair and the redhead jerks in fear. I giggle a little behind my hand at the scene.

  Adam turns his amused eyes my way.

  “You okay?” he asks.

  I’m happy to see that playful Adam is back.

  “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for that,” I nervously tuck my hair behind my ears.

  With the side of his fist, he pounds on the side of the soda machine. A bottle of water pops out. He pulls it out of the dispenser, flips it in his hand once, and then hands it over to me.

  “No worries, baby,” he winks and walks off.

  I don’t touch the floor for the rest of the day.

  **********

  Soon it’s Thanksgiving. I’m spending holiday off from school catching up on housework. We don’t really do holidays at my house anymore so that means no big Thanksgiving dinner. A chicken salad sandwich in the library with Thaddeus is the closest thing I get. I set a sandwich on my grandfather’s dresser in case he gets hungry—Happy Thanksgiving.

  I still haven’t had a chance to mention my nightmare to him, which means my grandmother’s still on my case. She seems to think that telling him is the most important thing in the world, but it’s kind of hard to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t even know who you are.

  I keep hoping that one day he’ll be himself again and we can have a long talk. But I won’t hold my breath for that.

  Thanksgiving break goes by way too fast and in the blink of an eye we’re back in school. Adam and I are still in weird mode, stepping softly around each other, neither of us wanting to be the first to speak.

  The air is fused with electricity when he’s near and I can’t help but feel excited when I see his face. Sometimes, I catch him staring at me and sometimes he catches me staring at him. It’s our own personal cat and mouse staring game. There’s definitely something
going on between us.

  Things stay this way for a while—the unspoken relationship between Adam and I. Before long, everyone around us starts to see it. I can tell by the little smirks from Bernie and Kale when Adam comes around.

  I pull on my hoodie to block out the cool December breeze. December’s my favorite month. Not only because of my birthday, but because it’s the time of year when Summerville looks its best.

  The town’s people decorate anything they can get their hands on for Christmas. There isn’t a bare tree in town—lights and ribbons as far as I can see. Every building has some form of Christmas wreath, garland, or bow draped across it. It’s a happy time for everyone around me, which makes me happy too.

  “So, what do you want for Christmas?” Kale leans on the lunch bench smirking at Bernie.

  “Why? Are you going to buy me something?” she flirts back.

  “Buy you something? I got something for you right here,” he grabs the crotch of his pants.

  Rolling my eyes, I take a bite out of my apple. One more sexual innuendo between the two of them and I’ll steal her car, drive to Charleston, and jump from the Cooper River Bridge—I swear it.

  “Perv!” Bernie says, as she giggles and playfully smacks his arm.

  “What? I’m only kidding around. Damn, that hurt,” he rubs his arm.

  “Ah, you want me to kiss it and make it better?” she says sweetly.

  “I got something you can ki…ouch, damn Bern, chill!” he rubs his arm again.

  Cooper River Bride, here I come!

  Turning my head, I catch Adam staring at me—this time he doesn’t turn away. His hard eyes beat into mine as he peers up from beneath his dark hair. The built-up tension between us seems to explode in our moment of eye contact. I struggle to look away, but again I’m caught in his trap.

  “Hello? Earth to Mage?” Bernie jokes.

  “Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t hear you. What did you say?”

  “What do you want Santa to bring you this year, little girl?” she says, as if she’s talking to a toddler.

  I shake my head and lift my brow like I’m concerned about her sanity.

  “Hmmm…I guess a Christmas tree would be nice. I haven’t had one since my grandmother was alive.”

  “Ah, when did she die?” she frowns.

  “She died when I was five,” I shrug and take another bite of my apple.

  It’s strange talking about my grandmother’s death since I see her on a daily basis. I sometimes forget she’s dead.

  “Oh my God! You haven’t had a Christmas tree since you were five—that sucks, Mage! You should put one up this year.”

  “I might.”

  The attention turns away from me, thankfully.

  “What about you, Adam? What do you want for Christmas this year?” Bernie asks.

  Adam looks up at me. The side of his sexy mouth tilts up and his eyes turn dark. In my imagination sparks erupt from the air between us like fireworks. I close my eyes and shake those thoughts from my brain.

  What’s happening to me?

  These girlie firework thoughts are unlike me. The old Mage wouldn’t be so dreamy and imaginative. The old Mage wouldn’t even be sitting here socializing with these people. She would never allow herself to plant feelings for a certain gorgeous guy, much less let those feelings grow.

  And most importantly, I wouldn’t be having these inappropriate thoughts of Adam and his delicious mouth. That I blame Bernie for—her and all of her crazy boy talk.

  As if reading my thoughts Adam rubs his thumb across his bottom lip. The action makes me blush.

  “I don’t think Santa will be bringing me anything this year, I’m on naughty list,” he tilts his head and sends me another devastating smile.

  As if on cue, the bell rings.

  The rest of the day is the normal blur—me going through the motions of being in school even though my mind isn’t in it.

  I bombard the kitchen when I get home in search for something edible. There’s nothing to eat which means grocery day is rapidly approaching.

  “Hooray for grocery day!” I sing.

  Carrying bags full of groceries two miles—no thanks. I do, however, pick up a Christmas card for Bernie.

  The last day of school before Christmas break is the day that everyone hands out Christmas cards to their friends. For the first time ever, I get one. Bernie gives it to me at lunch. It has a Christmas tree on the front—such a sweet thought. The card she gives Kale has a sexy, female Santa on the front—go figure.

  After gym, I stop at my locker to put all my books in. I put in the combination and pop it open. I don’t even bother taking out my History book since I’ve heard through the grapevine that we wouldn’t be doing anything in class today. One more class to go and we’re out of school until after the New Year!

  Bernie spends the entire class texting Kale with a big goofy grin on her face. They’re the new thing these days, all sweet and mushy and stuff—gag. Adam has his face stuffed in some car magazine; occasionally he talks to the boy in front of him.

  Instead of doing anything productive I stare out the window above Adam’s head in a daze.

  It’s not a typical South Carolina day outside. We never experience real winter in the South. Winter days in Summerville are nice and breezy with just a touch of sunshine. Today, a dark impenetrable gloom has settled over the city—rain clouds waiting to dump on top of us. The clouds are depressing; I’d give anything to feel the sun.

  I imagine what the sun would feel like on my cheeks—the heat of it warming me and relaxing me.

  The clouds shift and sun peeks through for a second. I move my eyes around and I notice as I look around the sky that the clouds are parting for me. A specific cloud, a large gray one, is completely blocking the sun. I move my eyes to the left and slowly the cloud follows my view.

  Wow, that’s freaky!

  I move my eyes back to the right and the cloud follows covering the sun again. Either this cloud moving ability is new or I’ve just never tried before today. Either way, it’s cool.

  I move the cloud and close my eyes to enjoy the sun. The single stream of sunlight bathes my face. It heats my cheeks and I imagine that I’m home in the garden and not stuck in this uncomfortable desk. It feels so good I sigh and relax. Time ceases to exist in this moment.

  “You love the sun,” Adam says.

  His deep voice crawls across my skin causing goose bumps.

  I open my eyes and the gray cloud slowly covers the sun again. When I look at him, his deep eyes explore my face. I feel myself blush.

  I really hope he wasn’t watching me stare out the window like an idiot the whole time.

  “Yeah, I guess I kind of do,” I shrug, “but I like the moon and stars more—they’re poetic.”

  The minute the words leave my mouth I feel like a dumbass—time machine please!

  Amusement flashes in his eyes as my blush gets hotter on my cheeks.

  “What’s your favorite color?” he probes.

  Favorite color? What are we—seven?

  “Purple. Why?”

  “Just curious,” he runs his thumb slowly across his bottom lip as he smirks.

  I’m starting to think he knows what that does to me—he knows I’m becoming obsessed with his mouth…obsessed with him in general.

  The bell rings and everyone makes a run for the door. I reach over to get my book bag, when I turn back, Adam’s gone.

  I’m surprised to see my grandfather waiting in the front living room when I get home from school. He never leaves his room anymore so this is different.

  “Did you have a good day at school?” he asks.

  Without a thought I run to him like it’s been years since we’ve seen each other. Falling to my knees beside him, I reach up and give him a big hug. I feel like a little girl again, instead of the fifteen-year-old adult I’ve become.

  His eyes twinkle like they used to before his memory went away.

  “Today was wonder
ful. How was your day?” I squeeze harder.

  I take full advantage of his quick visit from La La Land.

  “Oh, my day was nice, just the same ole day every day,” he laughs.

  I look over my grandfather’s shoulder to see my grandmother smiling back at me. Her presence reminds me of my nightmare and I decide to tell him immediately before he goes away again. He says nothing as I tell him the story about my nightmare and the lady with the blonde hair.

  “When I woke up she was there, in my room watching me,” I say, as he holds me close.

  His scent comforts me—cigar smoke and mint.

  He’s angry and sad when I finish my story—I’m not sure why. Standing, he walks over to the window and stares out at the land that he owns. Something’s definitely wrong.

  The room’s so quiet. I can hear my own heartbeat.

  “Soon all this craziness is gonna make sense, I promise. Until then you just trust in yourself. Remember that no matter what anybody tells ya’, you got a pure heart, Mage. Nothing else matters as long as ya’ got a good soul. I won’t always be here for ya’ and I just want ya to know that no matter what I’ll always watch over ya’. I love ya’, sweet girl.”

  He kisses my forehead and walks away. Before leaving the room he turns and smiles—except his smile isn’t for me.

  “Can ya’ see her like ya’ see the others?” he asks. “I love ya’, Mary,” he says to the air.

  My imaginary friends…that’s what he used to call them. Now I find out after all these years he knew exactly what I was seeing. He knew I was capable of seeing spirits. And so now I wonder—what else does he know? And how did he know my grandmother was there? Does he see spirits too?

  I run after him eager for answers. I catch him as he takes the first step to go to his room.

  “Pop, what’s going on?”

  “Rose, where ya’ been, girl? Where’s ya’ momma?” he asks.

  It’s too late. I say what I always say when he thinks I’m my mother.

  “Mom’s in the garden. You go to your room and I’ll bring you something to snack on, okay?”

  I turn and walk away before he can see the tears forming in my eyes.

 

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