“Are you crazy?” he asked us with wild eyes, pointing at the precariously packed car. “I move one thing and it’s over! We’ll be hauling everything ourselves.”
So, we found ourselves sitting in the sand in our clothes. A group of girls had settled beside us with their towels and bikinis. I felt so self-conscious in my rolled up joggers and tee-shirt. They were giggling and one of them was gorgeous. So gorgeous that even I could appreciate what a perfect figure she had. Unfortunately, she took one look at Dean and you could tell right away that she had found herself a prospective summer fling. She started chatting with us and pumping Dean for information about himself.
Dean’s my best friend and I wanted him to have a great time, so I tried to be nice, but I just ended up being quiet. I felt sick and heartbroken the whole time. Dean was mine and I didn’t want to share him. I just got him out of Beth’s clutches! I hated that he laughed at her stupid comments. I struggled to hide it. My dad finally whistled for us to hit the road, and even though Dean had his arm around me and was trying to cajole me into a better mood, I was despondent. Carrie (her name), the airhead, asked us to meet her at the pier that night around seven, and she would take us to a beach party.
“You can meet the gang,” she said smiling and putting her hand lightly, but possessively, on Dean’s arm. She liked him. The worst? I could tell she knew exactly how I felt about him, and she didn’t care. “Maybe we’ll find a nice guy for you.”
Now Dean wasn’t smiling.
“Perhaps,” I had replied in rather unfriendly tones. Maybe it was the lack of sleep that made me chilly with our new friends, but after we unpacked and went to the pizza parlor on the main strip, I cheered up. No point in being a party pooper. No one ever wants to hang around those people.
Afterwards, Dean took my hand and suggested a walk on the beach. Some people were still sunbathing, but most looked as if they were settling down for romantic picnic dinners. Dean curled his fingers with mine and we headed down the beach, looking for stones and shells, not really talking about anything but just enjoying each other’s company. I was very conscious of the time, having made up my mind about things, and as his best friend, decided that his fun was more important. We were pretty far from the pier when I suggested we turn around.
“Why?” Dean asked me. He had planted himself in the ocean with the waves lapping around his ankles, burying his feet deeper and deeper in the sand.
“I thought you wanted to meet Carrie,” I said, looking at him. He wasn’t smiling at me. He looked, well, exasperated.
“What??” I asked, putting my hands on my hips.
“Where did you get that idea? I never said that,” he replied, annoyed.
I hesitated. “I don’t know, you seemed to like her…”
He huffed loudly. “Well, I do NOT want to meet Carrie. Nor do I want to go to a stupid beach party,” he added through clenched teeth. He looked at me. “Come here for a second,” he said and reached out his hands.
I looked down and his feet were pretty stuck. I stepped forward. I could feel him staring at me, but all of a sudden I was feeling shy. I just took his hands but he bumped our hands underneath my chin, forcing my face up and rested his forehead against mine.
He sighed. “Nathalie, do you have any idea why I wanted to come on vacation with you and your family? Do you know why I was so happy?” I looked at him. His eyes were so warm, his smile made his mouth so…inviting.
“Why don’t you enlighten me,” I said softly. I knew something big was coming. (Okay, I hoped something big was coming.)
“I came so that I could spend every waking minute with you. No going home and wondering what you’re doing or if you’re going to call. No basketball where I constantly eye the door to see if you’re going to come and watch me this week. No more daydreaming about beautiful Nathalie because Nathalie will be with me all the time, to swim, build sandcastles, hold hands and walk on the beach. When I sleep will be the only time we’re apart, and even then you’ll be in my dreams. That’s why I came here. Not to meet other girls or hang out with other people. Just you, you and your family.”
Then Dean pulled me close and he kissed me. His mouth was warm and salty and I was kissing him back. I slipped my arms around his neck. I wanted to inhale him. When he slipped his tongue into my mouth I literally melted against him. What a sensation. Of course we realized that we were making a spectacle of ourselves.
“When it’s dark,” he promised, hugging me really tight.
“Yes,” I whispered. The ocean was running over our feet. Both of us were stuck in the sand together.
So, vacation ended up being sunny days languishing on the beach, our hands entwined just waiting for night to fall. The evenings were long, warm, starlit summer nights making out on a blanket in secluded dunes covered by the thick black of night without streetlights. He was so hot, his lips, his mouth, his tongue. He ran his beautiful large hands all over my body, his feverish skin pressed against mine, his mouth kissing my neck, my mouth, my eyes, and holding me so tight. The sensations running through my body were unbelievable. I couldn’t get enough, and the hours of the day waiting to be held and loved by Dean began to be torture. At one point I thought that the pleasure of our secret sessions would break me apart and I would splinter into a million pieces.
One evening it rained and I knew that my private time with Dean was not going to happen. I was not happy. I kept trying to sit on Dean’s lap to snuggle but he kept pushing me off and looking at my father with wild eyes. Thank God my father is easily bored, and so is Nick. He announced that he was leaving for the pier to become king of the arcade for a few hours. Nick squealed with excitement. I desperately prayed my mother would go along. She looked up from her book and volunteered to go along to make sure daddy didn’t spend all our trip money. Dad looked at us and enquired whether we wanted to attend.
“Not me,” I told my dad. “Bo-ring. I’m just going to stay here and read.”
“No thanks, Mr. Parker,” Dean said with a smile. “I’ll keep Nathalie company,” he said, looking at me. Dean’s smile had turned wolfish, and I wondered if I were wearing a lamb suit.
“Duds,” my dad said, turning away.
Dean looked at me. His eyes were burning. I was breathless and my stomach was fluttering with excitement.
There was confusion while they got organized to leave. Go, go, go, I thought desperately, getting my brother into his rain jacket…and then the door slammed shut and we were alone. Within seconds I was in his arms and he was crushing me against him. His kisses were hot and wet. His large, warm hands were running up my back, under my shirt, up to my neck, holding my head tightly so he could attack my mouth with his tongue. We ended up in his room for two blissful hours, making out, touching and pressing against each other in his soft bed. It was heaven.
What an incredible time. My vacation was a haze of beach and Dean. We’ve decided to keep our change in relationship a secret for now. Less prying eyes, or should I say, suspicious eyes, if we want to be alone together. Right now our parents think nothing of us lying on my bed together with the door closed (because we’d been doing it since we were kids), and we want to keep it that way.
When we got home Dean was desperately smooching me up on my porch before heading home. I was laughing and he just kept saying how beautiful I was.
I can’t wait to see him tomorrow. It’ll be in the office, but there are plenty of private rooms…I wonder what happened with Beth while I was gone? I can’t wait to tell her that Dean’s taken.
Sadie & Luke
Sadie & Luke
Sadie closed the door to the farmhouse quietly and locked the door. She stood there for a moment, her slim shoulders sagging slightly in relief, before straightening her spine and turning sharply on her heel, calmly walking down the front steps. Not one emotion showed on her pale face. Her long black hair, cut Cleopatra style, fell to her waist, perfectly brushed and perfectly straight. Her skin was white like alabaster, and unlik
e many of the seventeen year olds in town, without blemish. Her eyes were a dark violet surrounded by long soft black lashes in a long angular face with a wide mouth and red lips. Sadie was as pretty as a heroine out of a fairy tale, but without the smiling and the “singing to birds” part. Sadie never smiled. Her white summer dress clung to her slender form and buttoned all the way up to her neck. Sadie had no friends and was never teased or bothered. The other kids called her “The Ice Witch” because of her heritage and frosty manner, and people joked that she was like air conditioning. You were always cold around her.
Sadie did not care what anyone thought about her. She was not allowed to have friends, so she didn’t bother. Right now she had a problem and she was headed to the library to see what information she could find to solve it.
Sadie was a Kellar, and while her family claimed that they were not descendants of the Willow Kellar, the notorious witch the town burned over four hundred years ago, that was only partially true. Only Sadie was from Willow’s direct line, but they kept that a deep secret. Who knew what would happen if the town found out? She certainly wouldn’t lose any friends since she didn’t have any, but it was the hex that kept the Kellars quiet. The Kellars have been protecting Willow’s direct descendants for over four hundred years in the hopes that the hex would be activated. The famous hex—the last words Willow Kellar had uttered before she died.
On top of her own problems, in the last few weeks, Sadie had noticed a change in her Aunt Liora and her Uncle Boris. While there was never much love between them, they always took good care of her and followed the social norms required to keep prying eyes away from their home. Now, however, things seemed to be changing. Her aunt was acting strange. Sadie could hear her chanting and meditating, lighting candles and drawing diagrams on all the floors around the house. She was treating Sadie like a possession and not a person, constantly asking her where she was going and who she was spending time with.
“I don’t have any friends, aunt,” she would reply mildly. Liora would look at her with narrowed eyes.
“What about boys then, girlie? You’re a mighty fine looking lass, like your ancestor Willow, who could turn a few heads. You’ve the look of her, from what I understand.” Liora would laugh, baring her long yellow teeth. Liora did not inherit the legendary beauty of Willow Kellar. “Crone” was a better description of her.
Sadie frowned, her expression tight. “Boys do not interest me,” she would say coldly, looking straight at her aunt. “I have no use for them.”
“That’s probably best,” her aunt would reply without a smile.
Her uncle was more withdrawn than usual. But as strange as her aunt and uncle were, Sadie could live with that. What she couldn’t live with was her new problem. In the last week Sadie had started missing time. Almost two hours she could not account for. She had no idea what she did or how she had arrived at her destination (The Rotunda in Town Circle). Sadie was meticulous with her person, her time, and her things.
Sadie had also been feeling strange. Someone was whispering to her at night, just before she fell asleep and then again, just before she woke up, in those in-between times of almost consciousness. She was frustrated because she couldn’t remember what the voice was saying. She was frightened because the voice was insidious, persuasive and beautiful. Yet behind the words were such determination, anger, and power. It wanted something from her. Sadie felt her person was under attack, and she needed help fighting it.
Sadie headed towards the main strip of town. She walked because she hated bikes, the main means of transportation in town. She felt they were for tomboys and hooligans. Sadie lived in the south east corner of Barrington. The center of town was not far, but it was a good fifteen-minute walk. She could have shaved off a few minutes by cutting through Barrington land, but she didn’t. The Barringtons and the Kellars had an age-old animosity, which had begun with the murder of Willow Kellar.
Sadie arrived at the library and walked up the thirteen steep steps to the old door and pulled it open. The wonderful smell of books and old building hit her and she was instantly comforted. Barrington’s town center wasn’t large. Many of the buildings were hundreds of years old and appeared to be squeezed together, which was part of its incredible charm. Like most of the business buildings on Barrington’s Main Circle Road, Barrington Library was no exception and looked like a tall and narrow English townhouse. The outside was decorated with dark wood paneling and brass trim with a sign perpendicular to the building. Inside it had four narrow floors completely crammed with books. The only concession to modernity was the huge librarian’s desk and two computers found on the main floor near the front door. This is where you could search for a book or an article, but mostly the librarian did it for you. The library was never that busy. The two top floors had reference books, articles, and both fiction and non-fiction works. The main floor held magazines, children’s books, and more reference materials. The bottom floor held the archives. Seating was available on every floor, and there were quiet nooks among the stacks.
It took a few seconds for Sadie’s eyes to adjust. When she did, her heart dropped, although not one emotion showed on her face. Luke Barrington was the librarian today. Luke, she thought wistfully, but then she felt anger stir inside her and again had that odd sensation that she was experiencing someone else’s emotions. Out of all the boys in town, Sadie had always liked Luke despite his heritage. As a gawky bookworm, he was often picked on when he was younger. When they were five Sadie remembered defending Luke against one of the bigger playground thugs. She threatened to curse him with a giant painful boil if he ever laid his hands on Luke again (he was so small then). Even then the children were scared of Sadie. The boy had backed away from her muttering, “ah, he’s not worth it.”
Luke had simply thanked her, looked at her in his owlish way, pushed his glasses up, given her a small bow, and left with whatever dignity his five-year old body could muster. To this day, Luke still inclined his head with respect whenever he saw her in the halls at school. He was tall now, much taller than her, and Sadie had to tilt her head up to look at him; but, he was still a bit owlish and gawky with his big eyes and glasses.
What made Luke special was his nature. He was very kind and he always had a nice word or a warm smile for everyone. He was also the smartest boy in their school. This made him popular with the idiots on the football team because he tutored almost all of them, and she suspected he had written more than a few of their papers. She knew that some of the girls in her class sighed over him. His eyes were an intense blue under a mop of blond hair. He had an angular face and a wide smile—a smile so endearing it prompted you to smile back. But it wasn’t Luke’s looks. He had a gentle way about him, and he always told the truth, even if it got him beaten up, usually by his older brothers.
Sadie steeled herself and walked over. There was no time for self-consciousness. She couldn’t do this herself. While she’d been hoping Miss Liz, the town librarian, would be here to talk to, she wasn’t. Luke it was.
Luke looked up and was startled to see Sadie Kellar standing across from him. The girl of his dreams, the enchanting black-haired beauty he secretly mooned over. He took a moment to compose himself, just allowing himself to stare briefly at her hauntingly beautiful face, before he smiled and spoke. “Hey Sadie. Can I help you?” In a heartbeat he would have missed it, but he didn’t. He never missed anything when it came to Sadie Kellar. She had fidgeted and he knew right away she was not at ease. Sadie did not fidget or twitch.
“Hello Luke,” she said formally. She noticed he was staring at her. “Perhaps you can assist me? I’m working on a project and I need some rather…unusual material.”
“Sure, I can help you with that,” he said. Luke had read practically everything in this library. Being a genius level IQ, and a bookworm, he read voraciously.
“Great,” she said softly. She hesitated before pulling a list of topics from a small pocket near the waist of her dress, hesitated again, and t
hen handed it to him.
Yep, she’s uncomfortable. Luke took the list from her white, slender fingers. He noted they were ice cold. He unfolded the paper and had a look. His face never changed expression as he read the list written in her neat handwriting: Astral projection, witchcraft and incantations, possession, mental illnesses.
Sadie was tense. She had locked her fingers together, and if it were possible, they were getting whiter by the minute due to a lack of blood. Luke looked up at Sadie and said very professionally, “follow me. Why don’t we start in Psychiatry?”
They spent the morning looking for the books she was interested in. There were tons on mental illnesses. He tried to probe a little. “You’re going to have to go through them to find what you’re looking for. Is it anything in particular? I can try and index…”
“No, that’s okay. I’ll use the indexes in the books,” Sadie replied evasively. Even she didn’t know what she was looking for.
Luke shrugged. “Well, when you figure out which disease you’re looking for, I can get you more specific books to read on the subject rather than these broad topic ones.”
There were a lot of books on witchcraft and incantations in the library. “This section is well stocked. This was a very popular subject hundreds of years ago. We have fairly recent reprints of some pretty old books on witchcraft and spells. After all,” Luke joked, “one of the most famous witches did live here.”
Sadie raised her eyebrows. “And died here.”
“Er, yeah, well, I know, we killed her. Uh…I’d better go help those kids,” Luke said in a rush and disappeared.
She shook her head and allowed herself a small smile. Luke still tripped over himself. Sadie looked through the volumes but saw right away that most of them were shams. She needed a family’s spell book. Ahhh, here we go, she thought to herself. “Spells & Hexes – The Von Vixen Family Book of Magic” by Elanah Von Vixen. Sadie knew of her. A book by an actual witch…in the library. Priceless, she thought, skimming through the pages. It was an original. Not many family spell books had escaped burning by the witch hunters back then. Elanah had escaped the noose. She was very lucky, Sadie thought. The Kellars had their family spell book and Willow’s grimoire. They had always been available for reading in the house. Sadie had been encouraged to study them, but she had resisted. It was bad enough that she was already an outcast because of her last name and family affiliations, which of course, no one could confirm.
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