Sanguine Mountain

by Jennifer Foxcroft

  “He can’t drive.”

  “Oh, so he wasn’t in the van?”

  “No. But I’m starting to get the impression that I’m not the only one with aeronaught friends.”

  “Friends with an S?” I ask, trying to distract myself.

  He stops walking. “Well, I just assumed Tiff.” I smile at him because I know he can see it.

  “She would be honored to be your friend.”

  “How is Tiff?” a voice I’m not used to hearing asks.

  “Well, Jeremiah,” Rocks says, turning around, “I never knew you cared.”

  The only answer he receives is a grunt and mumbled cuss.

  “I’ll tell her you said hi.” I add, trying not to laugh. Another grunt.

  Back at the market, there are people milling around everywhere. For some reason, this surprises me until I realize they can fly back a lot faster than I can walk in the dark. The boys were kind to accompany me and Rocks the whole way.

  “You left your jewelry box in my shop,” Rocks says, when I turn down the path to my car.

  Arriving at his shop, there’s a gang of mostly girls waiting on the picnic table nearby. The moon helps my eyes find Zabreena, Rebekkah, and the whole posse that visited Bun Lovin’. Just what I need to end my night.

  “It’s going to be one hell of a party tonight,” Decker says, rubbing his hands together. “I wonder how many pups will be born after this?” Rocks punches his arm. “Ow. What was that for?”

  Oh fudge crabapple sugarplum sundae!

  His fan club is waiting to party Camazotz style. I storm into the shop to get my stuff. When I return, Rebekkah is leaning against his side, looking up at him with a look in her eyes that makes me want to vomit again.

  “Come fly with us, Rockland. It’s been too long. I miss you.”

  My knees threaten to give out from under me. I can’t show weakness in front of these girls. I bite the inside of my lip and head for my car. I count my steps, trying to focus on anything but the thought of Rocks’ lips on a neck that isn’t mine. Images of him kissing all those voluptuous girls with their blood-streaked faces overload my brain.

  “Ugh!”

  “Connie, wait. Slow down.” He’s behind me but I’m almost at the signpost. I’m almost free. I don’t stop, but he grabs my arm.

  “Don’t.” I pull away so he steps across the path. “You going to go get your bat on with half of those girls?” Tears are filling my eyes, and I know he can see them.

  He growls. “You still going to that dance with the freak that wears ladies under garments in public?”

  “Yes!” I push past him without another word and leave.

  * * * * *

  My exam preparation is a nightmare. I read a paragraph of my biology text, and all I can see is Rocks and those girls in my head. The feel of his lips on my neck is plaguing my every thought night and day.

  I contemplate telling Tiff to get her opinion on the matter, but there’s no lie big enough to explain why I presented my neck to him like one of his goats at dinnertime. Without the Camazotz background, she would tell me I got what I deserved throwing myself at him the way I did. She would also know that I would never throw myself at a boy. We’d be back to square one with her knowing I wasn’t telling the whole truth, and I’m not going through that again. I think back to before the letter when my life was so simple, and I didn’t ride my emotional elevator fifteen times a day. Back then, my elevator only seemed to go up. How naive.

  If Chad reads one more headline about Enzo Ascari, murdered police officers or the Viper’s trial, I’ll spontaneously combust. I don’t want to know about it. Why do murders involving a man I’ve never met, make my conscience feel tainted? How is that even fair? The curiosity that gripped me about who he was has completely dissolved. I don’t want to know.

  Mini wanders into my room.

  “No, Mini, I can’t play today. Go see Momma.”

  “Rocks.” She smiles. “Rocks today.”

  I bang my head on my desk, making her giggle. “No, baby girl. No Rocks today. I’m sorry. No more Rocks.”

  Taking her downstairs, I hand her over to the people that brought her into this world and that I wish brought me into it too.

  “Rocks visiting tomorrow after school?” she asks.

  “Ugh, no!” I shout before I can stop myself. “I have this little thing called exams to prepare for so that I can go to a college that will get me a job. Sound familiar?” She gives me the eye that tells me I’m pushing the limit. “I told him not to come so I could study. Please be so kind as to explain that to your daughter as well.”

  The scary thing is I’ve lost count on my lie tally and don’t have a clue what number I’m up to, and they’re definitely flowing easier and faster from my lips. Does this mean I’m an adult now?

  If I can survive one week of school, four exams, and the dance, Christmas vacation will save my sanity. I hope.

  * * * * *

  School lets the seniors out early the three days we have exams. Wednesday, I’m home alone and am surprised by a knock at the door. Rocks and the boys are standing on the porch. He tells them to wait outside, and I promise them cupcakes before we head to my room.

  When I look at him, all I can see is the look in Rebekkah’s eyes when she asked him to fly with her.

  “Enjoy your bat party?” I can’t help myself, but at the same time I want to slap my own face for being such a bitch.

  “Counting down the minutes until you get behind the gym?”

  I turn away and head to my desk. He doesn’t sit down. “Look, I didn’t come to fight with you. I wanted to tell you that Malachite didn’t attack you.”

  I spin around to face him. “He did so. I recognize him.”

  “No, the first attack. He didn’t give you that scar.”

  “Oh, crabapples. Ash? I know he hates me.”

  Rocks shrugs and says he’ll confront him. Graceland asked Malachite to scare me away, but they never intended to hurt me physically.

  “I also wanted to show you something. I got another piercing to make it even easier to know it’s me.” I stare at his face, but only the red bar is visible.

  He flips. I swing around on my chair and face his little floating body. He angles his wings and moves in closer, opening up his chest. There on the left side is a silver ring. I lean in closer for a better look and cover my mouth with my hand.

  Rocks has gotten a nipple ring. The thought of Rocks with no shirt, those tattooed arms, and a nipple ring makes my ears flame to a new intensity, but when I look at the little ring sticking out from his black fur, I can’t hold myself together a second longer.

  I explode with laughter, and the noise sends him backward before he flips again. I can’t look at him. I cover my face with my hands and try to rein in my guffaws, but the little shiny ring on his little batty chest is burned into my brain. I hear him huff and chance a look.

  Rocks is glowing red and trying to hide behind his hair. “I take it you don’t like it.”

  “Haha, do you even have little batty nipples there? I mean, really? Do you? Do male bats have nipples?”

  He crosses his arms over this chest and doesn’t say another word. I laugh again because I just can’t stop seeing the image in my mind. The laughter feels good. All the stress and turmoil dissolves from within. It’s been too long since I’ve laughed.

  “Guess I’ll be on my way then.” Rocks leaves my room, and I have to hold the railing or I’m sure I’ll topple down the stairs. I grab the cupcake container from the kitchen and join the boys on the porch.

  Decker and Ezra are grinning from ear to ear. Rocks walks to the middle of the lawn with his back to us. I offer them the container.

  “Guess you agree with us on the ridiculousness of his latest piercing then?” Decker asks, taking a cake in each hand. I burst out laughing, holding my stomach. “I told you she’d laugh her head off,” he yells across the yard.

  I pat my jeans for my phone. “Hey, Rocks, ca
n I get a photo of that?”

  * * * * *

  Exams are done. School is finished. I just need to survive the dance for a few hours, and I’ll be free of all things school related for seventeen glorious days.

  Kelly had tears in her eyes when she photographed Parker and I on the porch earlier. A high ponytail is my standard, and I don’t wear a lot of makeup so I guess seeing me dressed up for once with curls cascading over my shoulders got her all emotional or something. She was surprisingly well-behaved.

  Parker has been the perfect gentleman—for once. He opened the car door at school and held my hand until we got inside and found his friends. The wrestling team and I aren’t going to be BFF’s, but they aren’t as bad as I had previously thought. Although, Wrestler Tom does have a flask of something that smells a lot like moonshine. Tiff needs to get over her attraction to him. Even with Jeremiah’s silence, he’s far better boyfriend material—minus the whole Camazotz thing of course. I promised myself I wasn’t going to think about any boy other than Parker tonight. I owe it to him.

  Walking in on his arm did earn me a number of snickers and stares from the more gymnastically flexible and academically challenged female population. I feel good in the black dress the girls helped me buy. The fitted bodice and three-quarter length sleeves are keeping me warmer than some of the girls present. It flares out at my waist to just above my knees. The only thing I wasn’t too happy about is the V-neckline. My boobs do not need any advertising, but even I have to admit they look good in this. After Parker’s initial bug-eyed look, he hasn’t given them a second glance.

  Tiff and Brandy drag their partners over to dance near Parker’s group. I keep my distance from Parker at least for all the faster songs. The second a slow one starts, he pulls me closer and places my hands around his neck. My stomach rolls and heaves and not in a good way, and I don’t know where to look. Rocks is convinced Parker is my boyfriend so I’m sure that’s given him lots of ‘options’ with the Camazotz girls. I push the thoughts from my mind and rest my head on Parker’s shoulder. His hands slide down my back, and I stiffen.

  The first slow song is followed by another straight after, so I tell him I’m thirsty. Fresh lemonade never tasted so good. We take a seat away from his friends.

  “Is it true you got one hundred on your Accounting test?”

  “What?” I spit lemonade on my chin. “Who told you that?”

  “Well, is it?”

  “Who told you?” I hiss.

  “So it is true. Wow. If I got a one hundred, I'd make sure the whole school knew about it.” He laughs.

  “Parker, the whole school already knows everything you do. You got an eighty-five, right?”

  “Yeah, but it's not a perfect score.”

  “It's still a good score.” Accounting has always been easy for me. I hardly even study it. The figures always just made sense; it’s hard to explain.

  “You need to believe in yourself more. That's something to be proud of.”

  I look away. “Thanks, Parker.”

  “Wanna go for a walk?”

  Oh fudge. I gulp half my lemonade and try not to choke as I swallow three ice cubes whole.

  This is a chance for a normal relationship with a boy that’s just a boy. He’s good looking, relatively intelligent when he’s not surrounded by other wrestlers that turn him into a jerk, and has a body that I’ll never get tired of looking at. Plus, he actually likes me. It’s an even playing field, and there is not a drop of blood involved.

  “Yeah, that’d be nice.”

  We exit through a side door that I didn’t even know existed. Parker takes my hand and pulls me around past the parking lot to the dark alley behind the gym. It’s already occupied, and the other couple is going for it. I have to look away and hope they aren’t giving Parker ideas.

  “You been back here before?” he asks when we find our own space beside a cage of basketballs.

  “No.” My fingers twist in knots.

  “So, your first time?” I can see his white teeth in the dim light. My chest pinches and I can’t help thinking of the boy that jokes about firsts.

  Parker moves closer, and I step back until I hit the gym wall. He places his hands on either side of my head. “Got you now, pretty girl.”

  He kisses me.

  I freeze.

  Parker is a good kisser, but the tingles that fired through my body when Rocks’ lips touched my skin are missing. Not one single firework zings through my system. He stops for a second and looks at me, his hands sliding down my arms to my waist. His lips push against mine once more and I respond. It feels nice, but that’s all. It’s not magical the way Tiff always described from her mom’s books. It’s not magical because it’s not the boy my heart wants me to be kissing.

  The kiss deepens, and he moves in closer. I’m suddenly feeling a part of him that I’m not ready to feel against me. I try to move back but I don’t have any place to go. I wriggle but then stop when it occurs to me that it’s just making matters worse. My hands push his chest until he stops.

  “What’s up?” He hasn’t moved away, and I’m painfully aware of his anatomy.

  “Um,” I wriggle. He smiles. “Can we just take a break for a second?”

  “Do you want to go to my car?”

  WHAT? I want to go back inside. We are not doing anything in his car. I can’t decide if I want to kiss him again let alone anything more. “No. No, I don’t. Can we just go back inside?”

  “We will in a few more minutes. There’s just one thing. Just one.”

  His hands slip around both sides of my neck, and he bends my head to one side. I know he’s going to kiss below my ear and the thought makes my chest ache. Some strange part of me doesn’t want him kissing the place I offered to Rocks. He leans in, and his lips suck along my neck. But he moves lower and lower and one hand slides down and squeezes my breast. I get the distinct impression that was the ultimate goal.

  “Parker, please stop. That’s enough.” I shove him. He moans and keeps kissing and massaging my sensitive flesh. “Parker!” I say loud enough for the next couple to surely hear and he stops.

  Flapping and screeching fills the night air. My hair blows off my face from the force of their wings. Bats—three of them—are bombarding Parker’s head and shoulders. They dive and swoop, taking turns hitting their target. I stay perfectly still against the wall and watch. Parker ducks and swats, yelling for help. He steps back, and the bats continue their aerial assault, following his every turn.

  “Help. Help me. Ow. Shit.” He turns and runs into the darkness. Two of the bats take off in pursuit, but one—minus a nipple ring—pauses for a moment.

  “I’m okay.”

  EEEK!

  He flies off to continue the torment.

  I take a breath and smooth my dress out before heading back inside. There’s a massive commotion by the door, and Parker is already retelling his horrifying attack to a gathering crowd. There’s not a scratch on him. At no stage does Parker even look for me. He’s too busy entertaining his audience. The girls are drowning him in sympathy, but I manage to push into the middle of his adoring fans.

  “I’m going home. That’s freaked me out a bit.”

  For once, I’m telling the truth.

  18.

  B.N.F.

  Three whole days and all I can think about is Rocks kissing me, going behind the gym with Parker, and the Camazotz showing up. I need Tiff so badly, but that’s just not an option. She did send me forty-seven texts—felt like that many—regarding the coincidence of Parker being attacked too. I know Parker was attacked—I was there. What I don’t know is why Rocks was there? Is this protection duty? Maybe I should read more of Tiff’s books. Maybe the answer is hidden in those pages of crazy romance. Maybe I’m kidding myself.

  Kelly insisted I text Rocks and invite him to Christmas Eve dinner. I’m sitting at my desk touching up the chips on my nails. My red and white Santa hats took a beating helping Kelly prepare the feast.r />
  “Are you mad at me?” a voice asks close behind me.

  “Shi—sugarplums!” Jumping, I grab my chest. I didn’t hear him come in. Spinning around, I notice my door is still closed, but the window is half open. I’ve made a habit of leaving it open when I know he’s due. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. God. You scared me half to death.” The red and white hat on my middle finger resembles a snowstorm. I put the polish brush back in the bottle.

  “Sorry.” The velvet vest has come to dinner. He’s quiet. Reserved. He straightens his vest for the third time in a row.

  “Well, are you?” His boot kicks the leg of my chair. He hasn’t taken his usual residence in my armchair, and it’s making me uncomfortable.

  “No, of course not.”

  He peeks at me from under his long hair. “Sure?”

  “Yes.” I swivel around fully and point to my bed or his chair.

  Air leaves his lungs in a great whoosh and he smiles.

  “Oh, thank God,” he says, flopping down. He lies across my bed, resting up on one elbow. “I didn’t know if … well, if I was … interrupting … or not. I thought you might want to scratch my eyes out for ruining your make out session.” He says make out session as though it burns his throat.

  “I didn’t want to be touched like that exactly,” I tell him quietly. “Thank you.”

  He gives me the shyest smile I’ve ever seen on him. It’s a long way from his happy smile that I’ve grown accustomed to witnessing in the kitchen.

  “Guys shouldn’t treat girls that way.” His voice is louder now, but I can tell he’s still restrained. He sits up and swings his legs toward me.

  “I would never touch you …” He coughs and looks away. “I mean, a guy should never touch a girl he cares about that way if she says no.”

  Our eyes meet, but only for an instant. I re-inspect my Santa hats.

  The jackhammer has started up again in my chest. I glance down sure I’ll be able to see it pounding through my flesh the way it would pulverize concrete. Is it possible that I don’t need to compete with the Camazotz girls? That Rocks really likes me likes me? Is it possible that just being my sunny, light self is what he wants?