Each night, he was there, too. While I gazed at the horizon until the sun started to rise, he watched as the other buildings darkened and lit up as the hours went by. In school, I was exhausted, spending my days dodging Camille and Melanie and my nights avoiding my dreams, but he was a constant. He was always there when I went up and I had to get ready for school before he left; it almost felt like he was waiting for me, but I didn’t know him.
I took the stairs to my apartment two at a time and swung the door open, exhaling deeply as the air conditioning cooled my sweaty skin. My house was as quiet as always, the soft padding of my feet echoing off the plain walls. I quickly raided the fridge for a purple Gatorade and headed in the direction of the shower. The plastic bottle was empty before the water had heated.
The hot water coaxed my tense muscles loose and slowly stripped me of the sticky feeling that always plagued me after a run. I sighed in contentment, 100% satisfied with the occasional pain that came with slight movements. This must me what heaven feels like. Unfortunately, as all good things must come to an end, I shut off the water and stepped out onto the icy tile, feeling the cold shiver up my spine. A light knocking sounded from my front door and I hastily slipped into my pajamas and brushed my hair. Another knock.
“Coming!” I was expecting Mrs. C, an old woman living next door who got her name from the cookies she always baked. I hurried when I thought of the fresh batch of cookies that would surely be waiting for me in a large plastic container. However, when I opened the door, the smell that greeted me was not of fresh-baked cookies or the hug of the kind old lady. Instead, I was assaulted by an intoxicating scent of pine and earth.
The man was at least a head taller than me. He was built so that he blocked most of the doorframe, but he was lean and his presence seemed to command all my attention. He had deep, sapphire-blue eyes that seemed to brighten just a bit when he noticed me staring at him and short dirty-blond hair, slightly damp with sweat. He wore a dark green t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans that matched well with the dark leather bracelet on his wrist, yet he still looked anything but casual. I immediately recognized him as the man from the roof; the one I only got fading glimpses of as day broke.
“Hey.” His voice sounded deep and rolled over me and the smile he flashed me shook me to my knees. I had never been affected like this.
“Hello. Can I help you?”
“My name is Daris and I recently moved into the building.” He stuck out his hand for me to shake and I took it, ignoring the swift strike of electricity that buzzed through my fingers.
“Skyler. It’s a pleasure to meet you. Which apartment are you staying in?”
“I’m in the one right above you.”
“Come to warn me about any noise you might make?”
“Not really. I just thought I’d get to know some people since I’m new to the area. So far, everyone seems nice.”
“Have you met Mrs. C, yet? She lives right next door and makes the rest of us look evil.”
“I doubt anyone can make you look evil. You’re the nicest one, so far.” He smiled and I felt my cheeks heat up.
“Careful. You still have a few floors to get through.”
“Thanks,” he chuckled, “It was a pleasure to meet you.” He smiled lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly, and shook my hand once more. And again, the weird shock came, stronger than before.
“Likewise,” I squeaked. When he turned his back, I shook out my fingers.
He walked away and knocked on Mrs. C’s door. Sure enough, the smell of homemade cookies wafted through the air and she ushered Daris in without question. Judging by the shy smile on his face, he didn’t know what to make of the innocent old woman who insisted, “a growing boy needs food” as she ushered him inside. I chuckled lightly and caught the pleading gaze he sent me before our respective doors closed.
Going through my normal routine, I started cooking my dinner. Mom came home just as I was finishing up.
“Skyler!” she shouted excitedly.
“Yes, mom?”
“Did you know we had a new neighbor upstairs?”
I came out of the kitchen and nodded at the eager woman before me. “Yeah. He came by earlier and introduced himself.”
“We should give him a welcome present.”
“That’s not a bad ide—”
“You should take him brownies!”
“Why?” I groaned. Brownies meant baking and baking meant a mess. But you get to talk to him and keep the rest of the treats. Damn my subconscious.
“Please, Skyler.”
“Why do I have to take them?” Maybe I could just do the baking…
“Because he looks to be your age.” I stared at her. Her blonde hair was tied back, revealing green eyes shining with hope and cunning.
“Mom. Please tell me you aren’t trying to set me up.”
“Alright.” She shrugged. She could act so much like a teenager sometimes; it scared me. She walked back to her computer on the counter. I slowly backed away towards my room. The door was almost closed. “But I won’t deny it.” I sighed behind my closed door. Looks like I’m baking tomorrow.
“Shit.” My breathing came hard and fast, and I felt like I just sprinted a lap around town instead of waking up. The dreams were getting worse; the flames were higher, the room smaller, the voices louder. And yet the book remained untouched, haunting my waking hours in addition to the few hours of sleep I got each night.
I snuck out to the roof, and unlike previous nights, not even the open space and cool air could stop me. I was still sweating and shaking, so I removed my hoodie, but even that didn’t seem to do it. I looked around, expecting to see Daris again, but I was alone. Figures that the one time I wanted to talk to “the mysterious guy on the roof”, he wouldn’t show up. Suddenly, I heard slow, measured footsteps behind me.
“Speak of the devil,” I whispered. Across the rooftop, staring at me with curious blue eyes was Daris. “Hey, Daris.”
“Skyler? You’re the person who’s been coming up here to mumble to herself?”
I felt my face grow hot. I never thought I had been thinking out loud. I looked at the floor and Daris laughed.
He stood next to me and nudged my shoulder. “No worries. We’re all a bit insane on the inside.”
I scoffed, but I was struggling to fight a grin. “What about you? Don’t you ever sleep? Whenever I come up here, you’re already here and you’re still here until I leave.”
“Someone’s been paying attention,” he commented, the amusement in his voice obvious.
Again, I blushed. I just kept messing up.
“It’s fine. I just like to come up here to think.” Daris looked out over the field. “I take it you feel the same?”
I nodded and sat down. “Yeah. I usually don’t come up here at night, but lately, I’ve just had trouble sleeping.” The nightmare flashed in my head once more and I shivered, vaguely noticing that my body was still sweaty and hot, as if the flames were around me at that very moment.
“Nightmares?” Daris asked. I had forgotten he was next to me.
“Yeah. It’s just the same one on repeat.”
“They say that if you dream a thing more than once, it means something.”
I just shrugged. “Maybe, but there isn’t much to interpret from a freezing desk, a flaming classroom, and a blank book that won’t open.” I sighed and lay down to stare at the stars. I heard Daris do the same.
“Perhaps you don’t know enough to understand it yet.” He whispered. I looked over at him, watching as he smiled and a knowing flash appeared in his eyes. “Give it time; I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” I smiled and returned my focus to the stars, content to just lay there even though I had school the next day.
I stole a few of the piping hot brownies before reluctantly handing the plate to the man beside me. He immediately dug into them, and, just like when he ate my pasta last week, he looked shocked.
“Will you stop looking a
t my food like that every time you eat?”
“Like what?”
“You seem surprised.”
He shrugged. “I didn’t think your cooking would be this good.”
“I think you’re just hungry.”
“Well, we did run seven miles today.” Daris pointed out.
“Not my fault.”
“Yes, it is!” Daris accused with a smile. “You wouldn’t stop.”
“You could have gone home.” I smiled when he didn’t say anything.
“Well, I—”
I leaned forward and he stopped, favoring to stop his pointless stuttering by stuffing his face with brownies. I moved away from him and smirked when Daris couldn’t meet my eyes.
Since meeting Daris a few weeks ago, my nightmares had gone, and we’d settled into a sort of routine. I would come home from school, have ten minutes to change and grab a snack, and open my door to see Daris standing there in full running gear. We started running together a few days after he officially met my mom. Sure enough, she loved everything about him and immediately volunteered me to show him some routes when they caught me jogging home. Usually, we went our separate ways after our jog, but at least once a week, Daris stayed over and told me stories his mother used to tell him when he was little. At first, I thought they were strange in a captivating sort of way, but there were always those select few that made me wonder if they were real. Daris was in the middle of one now.
“Keep telling the story,” I said, trying to get his mind off the dessert in front of us. He reached for another brownie and I pulled the plate away. His hand followed it until he was almost leaning over me. I felt my face heat up and shoved Daris off me.
“Will I get the brownies back?”
I nodded and handed him the plate.
“Fine.” He picked one and kept going, “There are three types of humans. There always have been and there always will be. Most are classified as Homo sapiens, the standard person. The other two are like two sides of the same coin. They are the same species, but are referred to as different because of their abilities.”
“Abilities?”
“The first are the Luxators. The second, the Acerlums. The Luxators are known as the light warriors. They draw their power from nature itself and it is because of this that they possess the power to control aspects of nature. Their magic is known as Naturtem and can use it to manipulate nature to grow food and, when necessary, defend themselves.”
“The Acerlums, on the other hand, have always considered to be a relatively weak people. They are dark and twisted and evil. They have no mercy and draw their power from negative things such as anger and sadness. Their magic is called Malicis. Over time, the Acerlums have developed a way to conserve their power and have thus become stronger.”
“Cool.” I reached for one of the treats.
“You think that now, but they have this weird skill that if you make eye contact with them,” Daris crept closer to me, “this cold pit forms in your stomach and that’s where they get their energy, from the negativity that lies right here.” He started tickling me and my shrieking laughter claimed the small apartment.
“Daris!” I gasped. “Let me go!” I took a few struggling breaths. “That tickles!” I heard him chuckle above me and his hands stilled. I caught my breath, taking deep breaths interjected by soft laughter. Daris laughed as well until I managed to push him off. Compared to the slightly awkward guy who introduced himself on my doorstep, the Daris before me was bolder and fun to be around. It also helped that he just looked more attractive whenever he smiled. His blue eyes lit up and crinkled at the edges and—and I’m getting distracted again.
“You alright there, Blossom?” Daris pointed to my bright red cheeks that were sore from laughing so hard. My face got hotter and Daris laughed, the deep sound made my shoulders slump in relaxation. I cooled down a bit and poked his side, giggling as he jumped, his laughter stopping.
“I’m not the only one who’s ticklish,” I taunted.
At that moment in time, my mom walked through the door. She took a quick scan of the apartment, settled on the two of us and smiled. I felt my cheeks redden at the implication in her eyes.
“Good evening, Daris. You’re here rather late,” my mom greeted him, probably intentionally ignoring my embarrassment. I glanced at the clock and sure enough, it was past eight. Were we really talking that long?
“Hey, Ms. Leti. I was just getting ready to leave. Skyler and I were just discussing some new routes we could try.” It wasn’t a total lie. Sometimes, if it was raining or after a run, Daris and I would pull out a map of the neighborhood and draw up different paths. It was our way of exploring the area and I didn’t mind being Daris’s tour guide. The map we had been using hours ago was laid out on the coffee table next to the nearly empty plate of brownies. Several different colored lines marked the individual trails. “Good night, Skyler.”
“Night.”
He smiled and closed the door behind him. I stared at the door for a second longer, and that extra moment cost me the “mom look”. What else am I supposed to call it when my mom looks at me like she knows a secret? She was staring at me with mischief in her eyes and her hip was cocked to the side. “What?”
“You two are so cute together.”
“Mom, you sound like a teenager, and we aren’t together.”
“Oh please,” she scoffed, “why else would he come over every day?”
“Mom. Look who you are talking to,” I said gesturing to myself. “When have I ever been interested in guys?”
“Since now.”
“I don’t like him,” I said, rising.
“Says the girl who stared as he walked out the door.”
I didn’t respond to the statement, but I was immensely thankful she couldn’t see my face as I picked up the map.
“And I’m not cute!” I yelled at her and slammed the door, ending the conversation and, hopefully, my train of thought.
My mom, being the only person who raised me, knew everything about me; and I mean everything. She knew my likes, my dislikes, my grades, my hobbies, my methods of getting rid of Camille and Melanie, and more. She knew most of my thoughts, and the ones she didn’t (aka: me liking Daris), she could easily figure out. Benefits: She knows all my thoughts. Negatives: She can read my mind whenever she wants.
I heard my mom move around the apartment for another few hours, probably eating the rest of the food I made. Because of my conversation with Daris, I had to get to work on the homework I had anticipated starting three hours earlier. Thankfully, it wasn’t much, and I was lulled to sleep to the sound of my mom’s scurrying footsteps.
Since meeting Daris, my life had developed a pattern. I woke up, endured Camille’s and Melanie’s stupidity, went running, spoke to Daris for a few hours, and went to bed only to repeat the cycle the following day. On Fridays, I would deflect Camille’s attempts at us hanging out on the weekends saying I had much too much to do. In reality, I got home on Fridays and immediately took off running, knowing Daris would show up before I broke a sweat. We would jog for hours, our feet pounding to the beat of our music and to our labored breaths until our shadows stretched across the sidewalk and the world was bathed in a golden hue. We would head back, shower in our respective apartments, and meet at my place for a quick meal and a lengthy discussion.
I was presently stuck in another boring class and the desperation to go running was building inside. Not soon enough, the bell freed me from the stiff confines of my desk and I was off, a streak of bright-colored clothing against the bland walls. I wove through the halls, narrowly escaped Camille’s claws, and barreled through the doors. I didn’t stop running until I was outside of the school. As soon as I was free from the building and the nauseating smell of dry-erase markers, my frown disappeared, replaced by an eager smile.
When I got home, I ran into my room to change. Hello, ponytail! Hello running shoes! Hello, mp3 player! Hello, comfortable clothes! I took off out the door,
my music starting my rhythm and my feet pounded the pavement. I didn’t bother waiting for Daris to knock on my door. I knew he would catch up to me after a few songs.
I was in the middle of one of my favorite running playlists when someone covered by eyes and mouth. I was pulled towards the right where the bushes were, fighting the entire time. My attacker was male if the grunts I got whenever I elbowed him in the stomach were anything to go by. He was definitely stronger than me and probably taller. I hit him a few times before he repaid the favor, removing his hand from my mouth to land a hard hit to the side of my head just after I screamed. I saw spots along my periphery and saw a fist reeling back. I closed my eyes and tensed in preparation, but the hit never came. I felt a surge of energy, an overwhelming sense of heat before the guy was pulled off me. I fell onto the sidewalk, my head hitting the concrete hard. I heard his grunts of pain shortly after, but when I looked towards him, he was gone, a small cloud of black smoke in his place.
I stood up despite the pain in my head and the small black spots dotting the edges of my vision. Tired and dizzy, I began the agonizing walk back to my apartment. I was almost there when I saw someone running towards me. Thinking it was my attacker, I turned around and took off in the opposite direction. With every thump of my foot, my head throbbed. My breath came shorter and my body got hot. I heard the person yelling at me, begging me to stop. The voice sounded familiar, but I ran faster. My head kept pounding, though, and I knew I was close to burning myself out. I hid around a corner and tried to catch my breath, but I couldn’t. It kept eluding me. My throat closed and my head was louder than a drum. My vision was nothing more than a thin sliver of the world around me; the rest of it was tinted with black spots.
I heard footsteps coming closer to the building I was hiding behind but instead of pressing myself further into the worn brick, instead of hiding in the shadows or going inside, I sprinted. My steps were wobbly and my breath came harsh, but the sound of my name being called just kept me going my fear jump-starting another adrenaline rush. “Skyler! Skyler, stop!”
Marked by Time (The Mark Series Book 1) Page 2