Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series

by Vaiya Books

  “Hi there, Ian.”

  If Ian had noticed the pompous glint in the coach’s eyes or his overly conceited stance, he might have stopped right there. But he didn’t and continued, completely oblivious, just ready to get this over with. “Well, Coach,” he cleared his throat nervously and subconsciously put his right hand to his chin, “after thinking long and hard about it last night, I’ve decided I want to join your team.” There, he said it. It wasn’t so bad. It felt like a victory, not an admission of defeat. After what he’d dealt with yesterday, competition was the least of his problems.

  Yet, as the words left his lips, a wry grin developed on the coach’s face, followed by a triumphant gleam in his eyes. “Nice try, Ian, but you’re too late.” He let the words sink in, before proceeding. “Spencer’s already taken Skyler’s place, and he’s even better than you.”

  Ian sunk in shame like he’d taken a blow to the head. All words were snatched from him, leaving him a helpless listener. He’d vainly thought he was the coach’s only choice for a runner, but obviously, he was wrong.

  Sandler continued, rambling on about Spencer Gordon with pride as if he were his own son. “He says he’s always loved running ever since he was a kid; the only reason he didn’t join before was because there wasn’t enough room and because he didn’t want to provoke any jealousy in the other teammates--very considerate, don’t you think?”

  “Yeah.” Yeah right! Spencer couldn’t be that nice … nobody was. Sure, last night when he’d bowled against Darien and lost, he took it calmly as if he didn’t care at all, but maybe that wasn’t the full picture. Maybe he was hiding something.

  Embarrassment painting his face a light shade of pink, Ian looked at the coach, wondering how he was going to end the conversation, when the coach looked him square in the eye and patted him on the back. “I know how much you wanted to join, Ian, but there’s no need for you now.” He chuckled to himself, not holding back any of the smugness that came from his Spencer-inflated ego. “If there’s ever another opening though, I’ll let you know.” He left just as quickly as he’d come, putting an end to the dialogue himself, his stride like that of an officer who’d earned his badges.

  After five seconds of utter misery, Ian shook himself out of the dreary malaise and grudgingly accepted this turn of events. He knew it was better this way: the coach didn’t hate him anymore, the team now had a replacement for Skyler, and he didn’t have to go to state. Still, a part of him felt like it was missing. He buried this thought as he strutted to class, finding it easy not to copy the coach’s euphoric stride.

  Chapter 13

  School had gone better than expected. Aside from being humiliated by the coach, questioned by Shayla about why he’d worn a costume four days before Halloween, teased again by Tianna about the princess gown and the expensive perfume he’d put on last night, and mocked by Mrs. Dane, his English teacher, for using incorrect grammar, nothing else embarrassing had occurred and that was reason enough for celebration.

  Back in his room, throwing darts at the dartboard, every so often hitting the bullseye, he smiled. His spirits were high. Things were returning to normal. He didn’t have to run for the cross country championship anymore, and even better, the incident at the party would soon be forgotten and his life would return to the way it used to.

  Whatever had brought him to the other world, he believed that Hazel’s attic had something to do with it, and though not superstitious, he wasn’t dumb enough to go back there again. He’d make sure there was no return trip to the land of the elves.

  Getting his second highest score ever at darts, Ian, overjoyed by his improvement, went outside and ran for two miles, burning off his excess energy. Returning home, he showered and then started his government homework, memorizing the powers of Congress. He’d do better on his next test … he’d make sure of it, even if it meant studying every day. He’d never get another D+ again.

  After finishing his homework and setting down his papers on top of his dresser, he changed into blue jeans, then stuck his cell phone, wallet, and a packet of wintergreen gum in his blue jean pockets, as he heard a vehicle pull up the driveway. Instinctively looking at the clock in his room, he saw it was one minute past five.

  Racing out of his room and down the steps, oblivious to his parent’s caution-inspired stares, he pulled open the front door and headed out into the warm fall evening, the leaves of the trees in various transitions of red, brown, and yellow. A leaf blew down and alighted on his face. He brushed it away as he headed over to Jimmy’s dark orange truck and then opened the back door.

  “You’re late, Jimmy,” teased Ian, as he sat down on the leather padded seat cushion in the back of the Chrysler Dodge truck, remembering what William had said about him hating tardiness.

  Raising his back to appear stately and poised, Jimmy replied, “A wizard is never late, nor is he early--he arrives precisely when he means to.”

  Ian smiled nervously, not really knowing what Jimmy was getting at. “What’s this?”

  “Oh, just a quote from Lord of the Rings,” explained William, as he grinned knowingly. “Jimmy’s always saying stuff from them.”

  Ian laughed. So the rumors about Jimmy being obsessed with fantasy were true. As a silence fell over them, a vivid image of the Elayan sorcerers grabbing onto his sleeves and firing magic at him flashed through his mind, breaking past his mental defenses. Annoyed and somewhat frightened, he quickly switched the topic to take his mind away from the other world. “So, you ready for Sparta’s Diner, Jimmy?”

  “You bet I am,” he exclaimed, a twinkle in his dark eyes, apparently not noticing Ian’s inward turmoil. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day.”

  As they talked about their favorite foods, their most-hated foods, and how Jason was handling having only one chemistry partner, Skyler, when every other team had three people on it, the time flew by, and before they knew it, Jimmy had pulled into the restaurant. Searching for a good spot, he managed to squeeze his truck between a red Corvette and a brown full-sized van, soon putting it in park and turning it off.

  “Hey, Ian,” William said in a curious tone, deciding that they’d talked long enough about their upcoming project, “before I forget, how was Hazel’s party?” They got out of the truck carefully, not wanting to scratch the two surrounding vehicles, and headed towards the crowded restaurant, glancing at a family of eight leaving with satisfied smiles who were making a beeline for the van, and watching two girls briskly walk into the restaurant.

  “Well, let’s see,” Ian replied warily. “I played some foosball, ping pong, chess, and euchre.” His mind unexpectedly raced back to the elven palace. He saw Prince Taishan searching for him in the garden room; he heard Princess Saeya explaining to her father what could have happened to him. He saw King Kadeth reacting in fury, pounding his scepter onto the jeweled floor, and shouting death threats at his escaped captive. Then his imagination took over as he saw Master Thargon, dressed fully in a doctor’s white garb and armed with a fiery hot needle and a pair of serrated scissors, pacing back and forth waiting for him to show up, a steady eye fixed upon his Rolex watch.

  Slamming the door of wild speculation and releasing his anxiety, he smiled ironically, knowing that now he’d never even have to meet the evil wizard. “Overall, I’d say it went pretty well.”

  “You forgot to mention the best part,” said William with a sly grin, pushing open the front door of the restaurant, as the girls ahead of them glimpsed back at them sharing suppressed smiles with each other. “Tell him, Ian.”

  “The food?” asked Ian innocently, dreading what was coming.

  “No, your costume.”

  He couldn’t back down, though he hated to keep on lying. “Well, last night,” he began, in a boring furtive tone, “after sitting upstairs by myself for an hour waiting for Eddy to find me, I decided to come downstairs and surprise everyone with my elven costume.”

  “Wait! You wore an elven costume?” asked Jimmy emp
hatically, suddenly deeply interested in the conversation, despite Ian’s dull explanation. The two teenage girls ahead of them glanced their way again and snickered as if sharing an inside joke.

  William’s smile widened, not distracted by them. “Yeah. Jason even said it was authentic, with the silk tunic, thick yet light cloak, silver belt with ornate designs and a gold buckle, black brooch embedded with an onyx stone, and unusual leather boots.”

  “Authentic?” blurted out Jimmy, catching onto the word that interested him the most. “What, did he steal it from the elves themselves?”

  “Not exactly,” replied William, raising his left eyebrow in amusement. “I think an elven princess gave it to him.” Trying to stop himself from laughing, he covered his mouth with his hand, removing it long enough to finish with flair. “I think it was part of her wardrobe.” With that, he burst out laughing, his contagious fit of mirth soon spreading to Jimmy.

  Ian just sighed, then frowned, the creeping embarrassment altering the color of his face. It could just be his imagination, but it seemed that everybody in the restaurant was looking their way and for good reason; William didn’t have much of an inside voice. “Really funny, Will.”

  William quieted down. “Come on, man; you’ve gotta admit it’s a little amusing.”

  “It’s sad more than anything,” said Ian, scratching his chin. “Hazel and Tianna just can’t distinguish medieval clothing from women’s clothing.” He studied William’s amused face, as the girls ahead of them moved down the line. “With Halloween just around the corner, I’d say that’s a serious problem.”

  “I can’t disagree with you there.” William buried a smile, as he stepped up in line.

  Once they’d all ordered their drinks and paid for the buffet, a waitress immediately directed them to a blue-colored booth, covered with a white and black-striped tablecloth decorated with pumpkins.

  As soon as she left, William gazed out one of the windows, trouble brewing a storm on his face. “It looks like it’s going to be another rough night.”

  “Yeah.” Ian looked outside and noticed dark, billowing clouds. Trees were swaying in the breeze; leaves and bits of trash were swirling through the air; a sickly green permeated the sky. His heart thundered. Something about this reminded him all too eerily of last night. If it started lightning, he didn’t know what he would do.

  Though he wanted to believe that Hazel’s attic was responsible for teleporting him to the other world, and not the lightning, right now he wasn’t so sure and it made him feel like going berserk.

  He really needed to calm down. Nothing was going to happen--was it? It was just a normal storm. Besides, a part of him told him that being snatched away to another world was just nonsense anyway and that it could never happen in the first place. Not that he believed that voice but...

  “Ready to get some food, guys?” Jimmy’s voice smashed Ian’s thoughts, shattering them like a mirror.

  He was quick to recover. “Yeah.” He heard a distant crackle of thunder and tried to ignore it. “Let’s go.”

  Jimmy slid off the booth and stood up, plate in hand. William slurped down some strawberry lemonade, and then scuttled off the booth like a bug. Ian casually slipped off the booth and took a plate off the table, his breathing steady and relaxed, his thoughts dwelling in the realm of positive thinking.

  Heading to the back of the buffet line, amidst the crowd, Ian plopped a thick piece of spicy meatloaf on his plate, drizzled some honey barbecue sauce onto it, and grabbed the last slice of cheese pizza with his other hand, the delightful aroma of food locking his fear behind another layer of bars.

  Walking over to the salad bar near the entrance of the restaurant, he scooped some diced onions onto his meatloaf, some bacon bits and black olives on his pizza, and, after waiting for a rather overweight man to fill up four cups of soup and leave, he ladled himself a cup of potato soup and grabbed three cracker packages. Right as he was about to head back, the two teenage girls who’d kept on peering back at them earlier stopped him.

  “Hey, man,” greeted the taller and thinner of the two, a woman with dark braided hair, and the face of a botanist, not that he knew what one looked like, she just reminded him of one. Perhaps it was the glasses or her intelligent smile.

  “Um … hi.” Now why were they talking to him? “This place has some amazing food,” he muttered, just to make conversation. “It’s definitely not your average restaurant.”

  “No, it’s not,” she replied with slight humor in her voice. After a brief bout of silence, she continued, a chuckle on her face. “By the way, I couldn’t help overhearing some of your conversation.”

  “Some?” he asked in shock, trying to make sure he didn’t spill anything. “Now you’re just being generous. With my friends yammering and shouting, I’d be surprised if you didn’t hear everything.”

  She laughed. “Ok, you caught us. We heard most of it, especially the part about your costume.”

  With that segue, the other girl stepped in, her straight blonde hair, business-like smile, and athletic build, a great contrast to her friend’s appearance. She got straight to the point: “So, where’d you get those awesome elven garments, man? My youngest sister Michelle really wants to dress up as an elf this year, but she’s having some wicked trouble finding a nice costume.”

  Just perfect. Two girls asking him for fashion advice. He smiled sarcastically, somehow remembering the elven residence from Lord of the Rings. Maybe Jimmy had brought it up in a conversation a short while ago--he didn’t know. Anyway, it was worth a shot. “Well, if you want real elven clothes, I hear there’s a sale going on at Rivendell. If you go right now, you can pick up a decent cloak and dress for under fifty.”

  “Rivendell.” She just shook her head confused, oblivious to his Lord of the Ring’s reference. “Never heard of it. Is that some new online store?”

  This was bad. She didn’t even catch the joke. Now perhaps he knew a little of what Jimmy had to go through on an average day. Trying not to sound defeated, he quickly moved past his mistake. “Actually, no. I was thinking of Amazon. If you go there, I think you can find a decent one.”

  “Is that where you got yours?” Her voice couldn’t hide her enthusiasm. She adjusted the fork on her heaping plate of vegetables before it fell off.

  “Yeah, definitely, but I’m not sure how I found it.” Then, finding this rather weak, he added, “I’m sure you’ll have no troubles though.”

  She grinned. “And it’s less than fifty?”

  “Absolutely, unless the deal’s expired.”

  “Thanks, um …”

  “Ian,” he replied.

  “Thanks, Ian,” she said, her eyes twinkling. “I’m Rachel Sandler. My friend’s Eden Lane.” She smiled cunningly, as she gave him one last look before walking back to her booth: “I think we go to the same school.”

  Heading back to the table where his friends were waiting for him with full plates of food, Ian tried to calm his racing heart. Here he’d unknowingly given shopping advice to the Coach’s oldest daughter and Jack Lane’s older sister. The coach, he still wasn’t on good terms with, and Jack Lane … well, he wished he’d never met the pestering brat. The guy just didn’t know when to quit picking on people.

  Though he was sort of like Eddy in that sense, he was much worse as his targets ranged from the unpopular to the lonely to anybody who got in his way, as opposed to Eddy’s more singular Alan focus. Well, at least that was what he told himself to stay sane. In reality, it didn’t seem Eddy was much better, but it was best to not even go there.

  Sliding onto the booth, Ian set his plate and cup on the table and began to smash the crackers and unwrap the packages, privately scolding himself for not recognizing the two girls earlier. When he’d thought he’d never see them again, lying wasn’t so bad, but now, knowing that he’d likely see them in school and probably with fire coming out of their ears when they saw the high prices of less-than-authentic elven garments, he just wanted to run.
Pitiful. He could have done better. Much better.

  But William only smiled slyly at him, ignorant of his internal drama, mistaking his silence for contemplation, his shiftiness for embarrassment. “You just can’t stop talking to the ladies, can you, Ian?”

  He stuck the crackers in his soup, stirring it around with his spoon. “Actually, they talked to me first.”

  William’s eyes widened. “Wow, you must feel really lucky,” he said, as he salted his steak and fried chicken. “You know that’s not normal. Jimmy over here can’t even get girls to look at him.” He winked. “Ok, that was a lie. They look at him, but when they try to talk to him, he’s already flown away to Mars.”

  As William chuckled at his own quip, Jimmy quietly dipped his carrot into his chili soup and attempted to eat it, but instead burnt his tongue on the first bite and had to go straight to his water.

  William just laughed at this mishap, as it seemed to prove his point. “See, Jimmy just doesn’t have it. He gets embarrassed even thinking about girls.” Disappointment flashed in his eyes for a second before being replaced with good-natured humor. “He’s nothin’ like you, Ian.”

  “Thanks.” He dug into his food and pretended that nothing had happened.

  An hour later, Jimmy pulled into his driveway, all of them groaning under the weight of their full bellies. Ian unfastened his seatbelt, and once the vehicle was parked and turned off, opened the truck door. In spite of their bloated stomachs, they dashed through the pouring rain surprisingly fast, not caring to use the stone path, their feet trampling the soggy grass. As Jimmy pulled open the door to the cottage house and held it open for them, William and Ian darted inside.

  Taking off his muddy shoes at the doormat, Ian scanned around the house, noting the tall white pillars and winding staircase, before looking back at Jimmy, who’d closed the door behind him. “Nice place you got here. It feels sort of medieval.”