Illicit

by Jordan Silver

  As I thought it I remembered last night’s little nocturnal adventure. He had gone farther than before, touching me in all the right places until I was ready to scream.

  Then things had changed and he seemed dangerous suddenly. It wasn’t the first time I’d sensed danger in his presence, if you can call it that.

  Sometimes I felt safe in his arms and others I wasn’t quite sure that he wasn’t the danger that I shouldn’t be running from instead of to him in my sleep.

  I had to cut my thoughts off once again when my body started reacting to my thoughts. In the last month alone my body had gone through this metamorphosis.

  Seemingly overnight I had turned into one huge hormone, with thoughts and needs that I had no real name for, other than what I read in books or heard others whispering about.

  We’d never settled in any one place long enough for me to form the kind of friendships that would enable me to ask a girlfriend about such things, and there was no way I was going to ask my mom.

  I was a late bloomer or so I’d heard more than once before, so maybe that could account for my new awakenings.

  I knew they were sexual in nature these new feelings, but I had no direction, no reason as to why they had intensified so strongly out of the blue.

  I couldn’t find anything different about myself, other than the move anyway. I couldn’t quite parlay that into a reason for me to suddenly be plagued with the hormones of a twelve- year old boy.

  The schoolyard was a lot more than I’d expected. I have to admit to not holding out too much hope for the small town school; it was one of the only drawbacks to my making the move.

  I’d become very scholastically motivated in the last couple of years. Having a mother who shuffled from place to place every few months, with no sense of stability and never knowing what was coming next, helped me to see how much a formal education was needed, if I ever wanted to change my circumstances.

  That was one of the reasons I’d started rebelling against mom there at the end, I’d been tired of skipping class and losing ground each time I had to pick up stakes.

  Not that I ever saw myself living the high life, and dad did seem to be doing very well for himself as the police chief.

  But I wanted more, dreamed of more. The more that would take me to far off places maybe, that’s always been a dream of mine.

  It was strange that I never considered the moving around I did with my mother in my formative years, travelling.

  I saw it more as a frightening experience, never quite sure where I’d end up from one day to the next.

  It was never an easy thing for a young child I don’t think, to be awakened in the dead of night in a hurried rush, and the next minute to be rushing along a highway in some out of the way place to the next dead end place of abode.

  I took a deep breath and pushed the depressing thoughts aside. I wasn’t going to look back anymore; starting today I was only going to look forward with hope. It was a new feel for me, but one I couldn’t wait to experience farther.

  There were kids milling about. Some guys were throwing a football back and forth on the grass, a group of girls were talking animatedly with lots of hand gestures involved, and yet more kids were around the side of the building smoking.

  They looked like your average high school kids, not some weird group of corn fed overgrown louts in overalls and girls in gunnysacks with golden pony tails down their backs.

  It’s what I’d half expected from mom’s description of the place, when she’d been doing her best to prevent me from coming here.

  According to her, her hometown was a backward hick town with nothing much going for it except the exit sign at the edge of town.

  We’ll see, it was now or never I suppose. This next year I’d have to buckle down and make my mark on the education front if I wanted to achieve half of what I wanted to in life.

  Thank heavens I’d been smart enough and recognized the signs of mom’s angst when I’d turned thirteen. It was the only reason I was able to salvage my manuscripts from the many schools I’d been in and out of since then.

  I would talk her into getting my paperwork before we picked up and left like thieves in the night again. Now I had a record of my abilities that followed me everywhere. Something mom seemed to not want, but had given into when I insisted forcefully.

  ‘Okay Jazz this is it, don’t be a total and complete dweeb on your first day, and maybe you’ll make some friends.’

  My little pep talk served to give me the added boost I needed to get myself out the door.

  Shoving my Jansport higher on my arm, I fortified myself with a deep breath and squared my shoulders, before stepping forward into my future, for the next year at least.

  I felt a strange sensation as soon as my feet touched the ground. It was almost a replica of the feeling I’d had getting off the plane, only somehow more intense.

  I looked around suspiciously, not sure of what I was searching for exactly, but there was something in the air here. Not entirely unpleasant, but a little unnerving I guess.

  Like eyes peering at me from a hidden place. I felt the shiver go down my spine and brushed off my fanciful feelings as nerves.

  There was nothing to fear here, this was my chance for a new beginning I could feel it.

  I felt some of my angst fall away as I moved one foot in front of the other. I just had to get through the first day jitters and I‘ll be good to go.

  That, and this queasy feeling of excitement, tempered with a minuscule feeling of impending...something. I felt those eyes again, but fought not to look around like a little lost lamb.

  No need to call attention to myself by acting like a freak. I kept my head down as I made my way from the truck to the steps leading into the old red brick building that looked like something out of an-old-eighties after school special.

  “Fresh meat.” The cry rang out and jolted me out of my reverie just seconds before a ball came flying past my face. I barely had time to flinch before realization dawned. I guess I was the fresh meat in question.

  “Track you ass.” A blonde boy with baby fat cheeks trotted over to retrieve the ball which had landed not too far from where I stood, not quite sure of my next move.

  “Hey sorry about that, I’m Mark Spade and that ass who almost brained you is Ian Track.”

  The tall African American boy joined us with a cheeky grin on his face; oh this one was trouble. His smirk made you want to grin even as you knew you should be watching him closely, because the mischievous look in his eyes said he was up to no good.

  “Hi, sorry about the balls to the face thing, no hard feelings huh.”

  I took his outstretched hand and ignored his double entendre.

  “Hi I’m Jazz.”

  “We know, you’re Chief Tanning’s daughter, welcome to the dark side.”

  Ian hung his tongue out and twitched his brow at me, in what I guessed was supposed to be a lascivious come on.

  “Dude you’re an ass; so Jazz, you know anyone here? Cause if you don’t I’ll be more than happy to show you around.”

  “Um, I, I’ll think about it Mark let me just get settled in and I’ll let you know.”

  “Cool then, it’s a date.”

  He tossed the ball from hand to hand as the two headed back in the direction from which they’d come.

  I shrugged the strange encounter off as I made my way to the school doors. There were now even more kids watching me, as the theatrics had drawn their attention.

  I did my usual hiding behind my hair thing with my head down, until I made it to the doors at the top of the steps.

  Another strange sensation hit me as I reached out for the handles and the wind picked up a little behind me.

  Looking over my shoulder, I checked the clouds for rain, and shrugging off the weird feeling, headed inside to what awaited me.

  There was that prickling sensation under my skin again and the sense of something tickling the edges of my mind. It had been happening ever
since I came here to this town.

  That sense of foreboding mixed in with a knowing, that was a bit confusing. I had no real memory of this place; in fact the first few years of my life were a blank.

  I had no recollections of anything or anyone before at least the age of four, and mom hadn’t kept any photos or mementos as far as I could tell.

  It was only here lately that I even remembered anything about my dad outside of our random phone calls over the years. I keep getting flashes of him putting me to bed when I was very young, but it could be something I read or saw on TV, who knows.

  I brushed off the strange feeling once again, and withdrawing the folded sheet of paper from the back pocket of my faded Levis, I read the directions to the counselor’s office and headed there first.

  I avoided the few students that were already inside, even as I caught the questioning looks from many. With head down and breath held I made my way to my destination.

  The halls smelt like any other high school and bore the same wear and tear marks.

  I felt my first rush of excitement wash over me as my weird feelings drifted away and was replaced by one of great expectations.

  New school, new opportunities, a new place to shine. I could feel it already, and knew somewhere deep inside, that I’d come home.

  I can finally concentrate on my studies without the constant worry of having to bail mom out once more hanging over my head.

  For the first time in my life I thought, I knew what it felt like to be a teenager, something I’d despaired of ever being.

  It was here in these empty hallways that I allowed myself to breathe for the first time in what seemed like forever.

  What would my life be like here, in a place where I can finally set down roots so to speak?

  This will be the first school I didn’t fear being dragged out of from one day to the next. Maybe I could finally make some real friends for once. It was a good thought and with it came a sense of peace.

  The whispers were starting to penetrate as I made my way, but no one approached for which I was eternally grateful.

  For all my bravado, I wasn’t quite ready to jump right in at the starting gate. It usually takes me some time to warm up.

  I guess it stems from never being sure from one town to the next if this was it. If this was the place we were finally going to settle down in.

  The counselor was nice enough and helpful, if a little chatty. But I guess that’s to be expected from an elderly lady who’ve spent her whole life in the same small town, knew everyone including my parents and could share stories about their misguided youth.

  “Well now, Pete and Anna went and produced themselves a right beauty now didn’t they?”

  I was back to hiding behind my hair again as I was sure she was just being nice. No one has ever accused me of being beautiful before and I knew for a fact that it wasn’t true.

  Except maybe to a seventy-year old grandmotherly type who obviously needed the glasses she wore and could probably do with a new prescription. However, good manners called for an acknowledgement of the compliment misguided though it was.

  “Thank you ma’am.” She beamed at my answer as she passed my class schedule and timesheet over the desk.

  “And fine manners too, that ought to be a change around here.” She studied me for the longest while as if measuring her next words.

  “It was a real shame what happened to your family, the news hit us hard here. They were good people your grandma and grandpa…” She broke off, maybe at the look on my face.

  “My grandparents?” There was a rushing sound in my ears and my head grew light.

  I felt sick to my stomach, like I was about to keel over, and something foul crept up my throat as darkness threatened to overtake me.

  “Oh I’m so sorry, you didn’t know. Never mind me dear just my mouth running away with me.” She took my hand and that seemed to pull me back from the abyss. Her eyes were worried as she studied my pale face and drawn look.

  “Are you okay dear should I call someone? I didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

  “No it’s okay I’m okay.” I felt strange and a million questions were rolling through my head.

  As far as I know I had no grandparents. Dad’s parents had died back in the Soviet Union years ago when he was a little boy and he’d been adopted by a family in the U.S. Mom never mentioned hers and I don’t think I’d ever bothered to ask after I got older.

  She sniffed as she went back to her papers and I sidled out of the office more than a little confused. With my usual knack for putting things out of my mind I pushed it away for now. I’ll have to remember to ask dad at some point though.

  By the time I reached my classroom door I’d already forgotten about it, I had more important things to deal with this morning. Like how I was going to get through yet another first day as the new girl.

  The first class of the day was algebra. Whoever thought it was a good idea to tackle quadratic equations at eight in the morning had to be seriously twisted.

  Of course I’m an ace at algebra, in fact I’m what you might call a nerd. But I’ve learned from years of experience during the lean years, when Anna moved us from state to state looking for the next sure thing, uprooting me from the new school that I’d just barely got used to; that the natives didn’t take kindly to the new girl showing off her skills.

  I found a seat near the window and prayed that no one saw me, that the teacher wasn’t one of those stand up and introduce yourself types.

  My heart was beating uncontrollably fast as I waited for the others to file in so I could get that first experience out of the way until the next class, where I’d have to do it all over again.

  The need to bite into my fingers was strong but I’d kicked that habit just lately and didn’t wish to start again. Instead I bit into the corner of my bottom lip nervously.

  I got the usual stares that were to be expected, some longer than others, but of course I kept my head stuck in my book, which I’d opened on my desk.

  There were a few murmurs as people passed, but no one said anything directly to me.

  I heard the whispers but ignored them; until and unless someone spoke directly to me I was going to pretend to be invisible.

  Maybe I ought to work on my social skills; hiding behind a book was no way to meet new people. But I’d have to work on that another day; I had enough on my plate for now.

  I breathed a sigh of relief as the teacher took his place at the front of the class and with no more than a welcome to Havenhurst Ms. Tanning proceeded to carry on with his lesson.

  I itched to raise my hand each time there was a question asked that no one seemed capable of answering, but cautioned myself against it.

  No sense in pissing people off my first day was it? Some of the kids didn’t even seem to be paying attention, and some were outright ignoring the seemingly frustrated man at the front of the room.

  “Alright class we’ve covered this and you were supposed to brush up on it for homework. Who here can tell me what is Polynomial?” He looked around the class as people started fishing through their books for the answer.

  My tongue burned as I bit into it to no avail. Don’t do it Jazz, it’s teenage suicide.

  My traitorous limb, which I was going to remove at the soonest opportunity lifted itself of its own accord, throwing me under the proverbial bus.

  Mr. Varner looked at me but not surprisingly, as I’m sure he’d read my file and knew my dirty little secret.

  “Ms. Tanning.” He inclined his head indicating I should answer.

  “A polynomial is an expression that is the sum of a finite number of non zero terms.”

  You could hear a pin drop; crap I knew I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut.

  “Very good Ms. Tanning it’s rather nice to actually have someone paying attention after all the time and money I spent on achieving my education.”

  That lip was really getting a work out now as I could feel the stares a
nd glares from the people around me. I didn’t even flinch when I felt the ball of paper connect with the back of my head.

  I fought back the old treacherous tears I’d been fighting since kindergarten and my first encounter with a bully.

  “Azarov!”

  The harsh retort from the teacher had me picking my head up with speed, just in time to see a body go by me and grab a kid from his chair. I’m not sure what was being said but whatever it was, it put fear in the one being grabbed.

  He was dropped back in his chair none too gently, and as his attacker turned back towards me, I felt the air leave my body. Oh merciful heavens I’d come to Havenhurst to die.

  Chapter 4

  Oh holy night, it’s him, but how? That wasn’t possible was it? Oh crap he’s looking right at me.

  The golden Adonis had turned from his victim, who was still clutching his throat trying to get air, and now his attention was completely focused on me.

  I had no time to react, as I found myself practically being dragged from my chair with a stern “Come.”

  The teacher’s repeated calls of stop, and release her at once, went totally ignored.

  Poor me, I just followed where I was led like a lamb to the slaughter. I had no time to notice what the rest of the class was doing if anything, or if anyone was going to come to my rescue.

  He pulled me halfway down the hallway and around the corner. Of course the hallway was empty; everyone was in class.

  My breathing was choppy and erratic and man was my dad going to be mad that he brought me here to die. I was starting to go into full panic attack mode.

  My heart knocked against the wall of my chest and I couldn’t seem to hold a thought. There was a mixture of dread and excitement building in the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t know which one to hold onto. Dread won out and I opened my mouth to scream.

  “Stop it Jasmine.” That voice, holy crapoli, my knees started to shake even harder as I stupidly stared up into his eyes.