Velocity: The Gravity Series #2

by A. B. Bloom

  I grimaced. That wasn’t what I’d meant to say at all. “I don’t think of you that way.” I fluffed over my words.

  Connor groaned and allowed the car to roll away as he released the pedal. “What way do you see me? Brother? Please tell me you don’t think I’m like a big brother.”

  I giggled despite the pink scorching my cheeks. “No. Not at all!” I sighed and glanced out of the window. “I guess I’m just not interested in anyone.”

  The weight of his stare fell on me and I squirmed. “Abusive boyfriend? Crazy ex? What am I dealing with here?”

  I laughed. “Nothing. There is nothing to deal with.” I was uncomfortable and regretting getting in the car. “Can we just get to school?”

  “Yes, Miss.”

  “Very funny.”

  He turned and the blues flashed like a sunlit sea. “I am funny. I’m lots of things. Or at least I could be, to you, if you wanted.” He winked and my skin heated a notch.

  “Annoying.” I muttered under my breath. He laughed some more and we lapsed into silence as we finished the journey to school.

  We were getting out of the car when he spoke again. “How were your dreams last night?”

  “Pardon?”

  “Your dreams?” he prompted. “Were they better?”

  I thought of the darkness, my mind unwillingly recalling the aching longing. “No.” I shouldered my bag.

  “Listen, Tara,” he called my attention and I glanced up to find him chewing his bottom lip.

  “Yeah?”

  “Uh, there’s a formal dance on Friday.” He shoved his hands deep in his pockets. “Would you like to go with me?”

  My mouth popped open, sound effects and all. “A dance? What, are we in the fifties?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “You’ve always got an answer for everything.”

  My eyes narrowed. “How do you know?”

  He straightened his shoulders and cleared his throat. “Just a guess. So, what do you think?”

  I thought about this. No one had invited me to a dance before, ever. But then wouldn’t it be weird to go with someone I'd only just met.”

  “Just as friends,” he added, like he could read my mind.

  “Okay.” I blurted my response before I could think it through or realise what a crazy idea it was. Let alone the fact I had nothing to wear to a formal dance. “Uh. Thanks for the lift.” I offered him a small smile but had run out of things to say that could possibly make the awkwardness better or worse. In fact, I’d just run out things to say.

  “Anytime,” he replied and I couldn’t help but read more into that one word than I would have liked.

  I was holding the door open, grabbing my bag when a flash of black caught my attention. I peered closer, trying to see through the dense fog, but with a shake of my head I surmised that there was no one there. “What are you looking at?” Connor asked. I turned in surprise at his voice.

  “Nothing. Sorry, “ I replied and quickly shut the car door.

  “What's up with you?” Celeste rested one slim hip along the girl’s toilet counter. I was leaning into the mirror assessing my black shadows. I wasn't prone to bouts of vanity, but part of me wished I'd brought concealer with me, to cover the bruised effects of sleep deprivation.

  “Here.” Celeste fished a gold wand out of her bag and pumped the end before pulling off the cap.

  “How did you know I wanted concealer?” I asked. I shook my head. Actually, how did she find me in the toilets? Hadn't I said when I'd seen her first thing I would catch her over lunch? I was trying to branch out on my own. I didn't want her and Connor to think I was desperate. Although I couldn't deny their friendship over the last couple of days had been a pleasant change to my previous first week experiences.

  “Tara. I don't want to be the one to break it to you, but those bad boys look like you're carrying a fortnights worth of luggage under each eye. You need all the Touchè Eclat you can lay your hands on.

  I surveyed my “luggage” and patted in some of the creamy highlighter. “Thanks.”

  “Don't thank me. I'm always prepared for every eventuality.”

  I smiled at her reflection in the mirror. “That's good to know.”

  “Like now for example, we could totally straighten those curls with my straighteners.”

  My mouth fell open. “You do not have straighteners in your bag. Surely?”

  “Meh.” She shrugged. “It's best to always be prepared.”

  Digging into her bag she pulled out a pair of GHD’s. I stood open mouthed as she marched over to the wall and plugged them in.

  “You’re joking, right?”

  She smiled like an angel. An angel intent on hair manipulation. “Humour me. You look great with straight hair.”

  I frowned. “How do you know?” I'd yet to keep my unruly curls in check due to the ridiculous weather conditions.

  Celeste waved her hand at me. “I meant I think you will look great with straight hair.” She motioned me towards her.

  “Come on, it won't take me a moment.”

  I could have argued. Stated how incredibly odd it all was. But then maybe this was how people rolled at private school?

  She was right. It didn't take long. Within moments I was stood again in front of the mirror and looking at a sleek espresso toned sheet of smooth hair. “Good job,” I said, twisting slightly so I could see how it hung over my shoulders.

  “I'm a pro. What can I say?” The bell rang as she wound the cord around the slim straighteners. She frowned. “That's mighty inconvenient.”

  It had probably been the most surreal lunch break of my life. Who played hairdressers at lunch time, apart from six-year old's in Primary school?

  “Thanks?” I muttered, shaking my head as I walked out of the toilets. I couldn't lie, it felt nice hanging all sleek and shiny around my face.

  A low wolf whistle bounced off the walls and I cringed as all the passing students turned to stare. Connor loped towards us, a devious smile across his face. “Celeste, have you been harassing the new girl again?”

  Celeste tutted and placed a hand on my arm, steering me past Connor’s broad shouldered stance. “I’m not the one with “Trail the girl in the rain” tendencies.”

  “How did you know about that?” I spun to glare at Connor. “I said I didn’t want everyone knowing.” My forehead creased into a frown and I narrowed my eyes. It was important to me that I kept my head down and stayed under the radar. It was how I survived the "new girl" mantle I continuously wore. I'd trusted Connor when I'd agreed to a lift. I didn't think he would blab about it. More fool me.

  He grinned. “Hey, I didn’t tell her, she just knows everything.” He leaned in closer. “Everything,” he whispered.

  “Shut up,” Celeste said, grabbing my arm.

  The stone walls of the school corridor pulsated and my head throbbed. What was this? I never suffered from headaches?

  “Stop it both of you,” I snapped. “I’m not some new toy for you to fight over.” My eyesight tinged black around the edges and I reached an unsteady hand for the cool wall.

  A loud buzzing filled my ears, under the static noise I could hear Celeste say. “Damn. I think we’ve done it now.”

  I lurched for the door. I didn’t want to be somewhere that I was a pawn in some bored rich kids game.

  “Wait,” Connor called but I ignored him and stumbled into the misty air outside. Through my hazy vision I could see a group of girls stood by the stairs, they tried not to watch me pass but they did. I could sense it. Did one of them laugh? Sweat prickled along my neck and I gripped the handrail tighter. On the bottom step, I slunk down onto the grey stone, and rested my head on my knees. I swallowed repeatedly, hoping that I would hold down the rise of sick lifting inside of me like a swollen wave on a stormy sea.

  The buzzing in my ears subsided and the babble from the girls started to filter through the misty air. Through the corner of my eyes I could see them staring up at the sky. "My b
rother said he saw the last star fall." One of them said. I looked at them a bit closer.

  “He did not.” There was a general groan around the group.

  “He did. The last star has fallen, they reckon the darkness will spread again.”

  This got my attention. Stars falling? What darkness? I was sure last night when I’d closed my curtains the stars had been blindingly brilliant in the night sky. What were they all talking about?

  Feeling a little better I tried to stand. My optimism fell short as my head whirled and the floor dropped away from under my feet. I thought I would crash into the floor. In my head I saw visions of blood, plasters and major embarrassment. Instead I jolted against a firm surface. My eyes landed on black boots.

  “I’ve got you.” A voice murmured low near my ear. My stomach delved to the bottom of my feet.

  I struggled to stand and pushed my hands against the surface. My clearing eyesight told me it was a boy’s chest. “Thanks,” I said. Removing my hands, I glanced up. There was no one there, just a group of girls watching me talk to myself, smirks across their faces.

  The dance had been the subject of the previous day. The whole school was on the point of obsession. It was how I found myself in a dress shop in the nearest town. Dad had driven Celeste and I after school and we’d promised to get the bus home together. Celeste had chatted with ease to my dad and I’d felt a pang of jealousy that I couldn’t bond with him in that way. Good news was that bonding aside, he’d given me a hundred pounds for a new dress. He really wanted me to go to the dance.

  I think the boy in black had thought I couldn’t see him, turning around corners as I walked around at school. Slipping through doors when I passed by. But I had. And when I hadn’t seen him, I’d felt him. He was there all the time. It was like he'd moved from the depths of my dreams and become my reality. I was under no doubt the boy in black was the dark smudge I'd been chasing in my dreams. The pull in my stomach, the ache and longing, took my breath away whenever I glimpsed him.

  I couldn't concentrate, lessons had been a blur, I couldn't listen to the conversations around me, all I could think was him. Who was he?

  I was grateful that Celeste would chatter away with dad in the car, it gave me time to stare out of the window at the rain and think. Of him.

  The events of the night before had happened. I knew I didn't have any evidence I'd fallen or broken my ankle, but I knew it to be a fact, just like I knew my hair was brown and I was a generous size twelve. I had so many questions for the boy in black when I caught up with him. And I would catch up with him, eventually. He was the key to the riddle unfolding around me. I was sure of it.

  “I’m not wearing any of those.” I frowned at the rail of dresses.

  “I’m sure we will find you the perfect one.” Celeste dove headfirst into the swathes of material but I refused to move.

  “They’re bridesmaid dresses." I humphed with my observation. "And I'm not wearing one.”

  I think the shop name “Happily Ever After” should have been my warning. I should have refused to get out of dad's car as it idled on the side of the road. But no, I'd allowed Celeste to talk me into "Giving it a try." Dad had been chuckling as he drove off.

  I wasn't chuckling. Not in the least.

  Celeste poked her head out from the rail of satin. “Rubbish. They do formal attire too,” she informed me before turning and hollering for the sales assistant. “We need some assistance.” she shouted far louder than necessary.

  “Yes, dear,” called a voice in response. A little old lady with a tape measure scuttled around the corner and I groaned. Really? Was I about to be measured by a grandma? I didn’t think so.

  “I’m a twelve.” I told her firmly. She looked at me in doubt but I maintained a steady eye contact. “Definitely a twelve.”

  With a frown, she scurried back off before returning a few minutes later with an armful of satin. I cringed away from the touch of the material—I didn’t do dress up.

  Celeste was twirling in a deep purple chiffon that made her hair shine like liquid silver. “This one’s dreamy,” she gushed.

  I eyed my pile of tangled garments. None of them looked dreamy. They looked like straight-jackets with sequins. “Go for the blue,” she suggested with a nod towards the offending dress. “I think blue will be your colour.”

  Dragging it out of the pile, I held it in my fingers like a dirty dish cloth. “I don’t think so.” I wasn't feeling the blue, I wasn’t feeling any of them, I regretted saying I would go to the damn dance at all. I was untangling a slip of violet on a hanger when a flash of black caught my eye out of the shop window. Before I could hesitate or talk sense into myself, I dropped the dresses and ran for the door.

  “Where are you going?” Celeste shouted, her mouth falling open in surprise.

  “I’ll be back,” I called over my shoulder as I stepped out into the chilled autumnal air. My breath clouded as it mixed with the cold blast. He’d gone to the right; I could sense it. I ran down the street keeping my eyes tracking from side to side. I couldn’t see him in front of me although I could only have been moments behind. I didn't relent, I kept pushing until my chase lead me down to the end of the street. The shops turned into houses with pretty gardens and paved driveways. I’d lost him again.

  I let out a deep breath and slowed down, coming to a faltering stop. I was chasing a ghost. I was sure of it. Slowly I turned to make my way back up the high street when I saw the pitch of black loitering against a brick wall. My pulse throbbed in the base of my throat as I propelled myself in his direction. I knew I needed to move quick before he disappeared again.

  He was turning as I reached him and my hand shot out to grab his elbow. The moment my hand connected with him a rush of electricity surged between us. I gasped loudly, pulling my hand away.

  “Who are you?” I stared up at him, but it felt like I was looking through a gauzy curtain. He wore a cap pulled low over his eyes. His tall slim frame, dressed in black, hinted at power and strength. He wasn’t intimidating though. The opposite.

  From under the cap I caught a slight smile. “What’s it to you?”

  “Why have you been at my school, why are you here?” Too many questions, I knew, but his mouth curved into a wider smile.

  “Were you at my house?”

  He stepped back and evaluated me from within the shadows of the cap’s peak. “Are you accusing me of following you?”

  “Well no.” I stuttered. What was I saying? The sense of deja vu grew stronger until it felt like this had definitely happened before.

  He turned to leave. “Wait.” I grabbed his arm again, relishing the spark that caught like flint on wood. He turned, although I could sense his unwillingness. “Do I know you from somewhere?” I flushed a burning pink as I asked.

  He leaned in a little closer and I inhaled deeply. An earthy freshness clung to him, like the air of the moor when I was a child. It was intoxicating. His head tilted to the side. “Do you?”

  I shook my head. “Do I?”

  For a moment, he lost all his teasing demeanour and he snapped his focus onto my face. “I’m sure you can remember?” He shifted his cap a little as he seemed to give me some coded message in his words. He was telling me to remember. Remember what? My brain refused to think or even function on any level. I'd glimpsed his face from under the cap and it made me gasp, drawing in a ragged lungful of air. I was sure I knew that face. Knew it better than I knew my own. He turned and walked away and I watched him leave, my heart hammering in my chest. “Oh,” he turned and called back. “Violet is your colour.” He paced away but in that moment he'd spoken, I knew where I recognised his face from. He was the boy from the Rom Com dream. The boy from my crazy eighties dream was real? Was he? My head spun and I thought I would hit the pavement as blackness filtered around my vision. All my senses sung, I could smell the sea air mingling with the fumes of passing cars. The squeal of seagulls wheeling in the air filled my ears. All the time, my eyesight grew
darker and darker.

  “Hey, what are you doing here?” The black shadow lifted, and I spun to find Celeste watching me, her expression guarded. Her greeting cut through the fuzz in my head and pulled me back to the surface.

  I shook my head and slouched my way back up to where she stood. “I needed air, sorry.” I gave her a small shrug. “Shopping really doesn’t agree with me.”

  She laughed a little. “You surprise me!”

  “Hey! What does that mean?”

  She laughed again, and tucked her arm through mine, pulling me away from where I'd spoken to the boy in black. Was she pulling me a little harder than necessary? “Just saying.” She tightened her hold on my arm. “Anyway, I told the lady to hold the blue dress for you.”

  I shook my head. “I want the violet one.”

  “Why?’

  “I just do.”

  She looked me over, scrutinising. “Sure you do.”

  Back home I waved the dress at dad and ran up the stairs. I cleaned my teeth and scrubbed my face. I was excited to see if I would dream again. Dream of him. I was sure it was him but I needed to check. My plan on how to check was unclear, but sleeping seemed my best option. It was that, or stalking out dad downstairs, and seeing if anyone turned up for middle of the night conversation.

  In bed, I laid and watched the ceiling. When I was young I used to play a game with mum where we would search out shapes on the ceiling after our night time story. The empty hollow in my chest gave a little ache. I missed her so much. Missed the morning coffees and the casual chat that used to fill our days so there was never silence in the house. Since we’d moved here I’d thought about her less and less. I wondered if she would be mad. I laughed at myself. She wouldn’t. She only ever wanted me to be happy.

  Just thinking about her made the silence of the house overwhelmingly loud. I thought that sleep would never come, but eventually, I could feel it’s weighty pull drag on my body. I settled back against the mattress eager to see the boy in black again.