by M. Leighton
“I can’t believe that kiss didn’t win him over,” Lacey balked as she stood beside my locker, lamenting the incident’s apparent inability to make Brady fall immediately in love with her. “I mean, dude! That kiss was…it was…” she trailed off, that familiar wistful look sweeping in over her features. “It was world class. Epic!”
“Can I just interject right here how wrong I think it is that I have to continue to listen to anyone talk about how great a kisser my brother is?”
“No,” she answered, her voice comically soft and dreamy. “You’re my best friend and, therefore, required to listen to me talk about any and all high school drama, including but not limited to anything to do with your hot-n-sexy brother.”
“Blech,” I muttered under my breath. I kept hoping that Brady’s lack of interest and my lack of encouragement would snap Lacey out of it. But, alas, it seemed she was no closer to getting over Brady than she ever had been.
Shaking her head as if waking from a daydream, which is likely exactly what she was doing, Lacey turned to me, determination alive and well in the firm set of her plump lips.
“Fine. I’ll just have to show him what he’s missing.”
I rolled my narrowed eyes toward her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means that I’m bringing out the big guns. He needs an encore. Maybe he missed the first act,” she reasoned. “How, I don’t know, but still. It’s possible. So, what else can I do but show him again?”
“Lace,” I began carefully, chewing my lip uncertainly. “Maybe Brady just doesn’t see you that way.”
I’d never even suggested that in her presence before, afraid that it would hurt her deeply. But at this point, I was looking out for her heart as well as both their lives. I couldn’t afford to pull any punches.
“Okay, Peyton. Spill. What’s the deal?”
“What do you mean?”
“Why have you been trying to keep me away from Brady? Talk me out of liking him? “
I had hoped I’d been a little more circumspect in my machinations, but apparently I had not. Evidently she’d seen right through my various maneuvers to keep as much distance as possible between her and Brady.
“I didn’t…I’m not…uh…” I stammered, feeling cornered and guilty.
“Look, you didn’t feel that kiss,” she began.
I interjected with, “No, thank God!”
“Hush!” she snapped lightly. “It was stiller!” To this, I said nothing, knowing now was not the time to correct her word choice. Instead, I waited for her to continue. “There’s something there, Peyton. Seriously. Whether he admits it or not, it’s there. I felt it.”
I wanted to rationalize with her that, considering how badly she wanted it, she might’ve imagined it, but the ring of the bell brought our conversation to an abrupt end.
“Oh sh—”
“Language, Ms. Roberts,” Mrs. Jonas interrupted smoothly as she walked by. “Get to class, ladies.”
“Going, Mrs. Jonas,” Lacey ensured in a sing song voice. “We’ll talk after school. If I’m late for Mr. Brittain’s class again, I get points deducted from my final.”
With that, she was gone like a puff of smoke.
********
That last period of the day went by at a snail’s pace. I couldn’t focus on class or my teacher’s words. All I could think about was what Lacey could do to my brother.
When I’d made it to my house and in the door with no sign of Lacey, I began to feel a little more optimistic. I could only hope she’d taken my words to heart and realized the futility of her efforts.
It was my night to cook, so I went to my room to change into yoga pants and a t-shirt. That’s when my hopes were officially dashed. All the way back in my room, I could hear Lacey’s animated voice when she arrived. She was talking to my brother.
I crept out my door and stood in the hallway, eavesdropping for a moment before I revealed myself.
“No, I thought it was easy. Any time you need help, just say the word. I make a great tutor,” Lacey was saying.
“I’m sure you do,” Brady was agreeing.
“I can see where you might run into trouble, though. Mr. Gosling doesn’t exactly explain things well.”
“No, he doesn’t. And he’s so boring, it’s all I can do to keep my eyes open after the first five minutes.”
“I know, right?”
“That’d be great if you could help me with the homework for a couple weeks. Just until I get caught up,” Brady explained.
I couldn’t help rolling my eyes. Mr. Gosling was the Physics teacher. Brady had great grades in all his classes—he was brilliant, after all—but he had an especially high aptitude for the sciences and he loved physics.
“You dog!” I breathed quietly into the stillness around me.
Brady was playing stupid so Lacey would tutor him.
Of all the cliché things he could do, he chooses this? I thought. At least he had managed to pick a subject that Lacey was actually good in. It would’ve been a disaster if he’d asked for her help in English.
“I have some time now, if you’re not busy,” Lacey offered shyly, as if there was a shy bone in her body.
“Now’s awesome.”
Deciding it was high time to make my entrance, I swept into the room, feigning surprise at seeing Lacey.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, wide-eyed.
“I’m gonna help Brady with his Physics homework.”
“Physics? But Brady you get—”
“What’s for dinner tonight, P? Maybe Lacey can stay and eat, since she’s being nice enough to help me out.”
I nearly laughed out loud at Brady’s expression. His eyes were warning me to go along with his ruse, not to ruin his plan.
Plan? What plan? I thought, suddenly overcome with the urge to snort. This pathetic attempt at subterfuge? Pa-lease!
Lacey was glaring at me as well, her eyes promising me torture and revenge of epic proportions if I messed up her chance to spend time with Brady. It was then that I sobered to the situation. I could very well lose everyone that I loved in my life because of whatever untold events had happened that night under the waning light of the slowly-disappearing moon.
“Spaghetti,” I answered softly, all the humor with which I’d seen the situation suddenly gone, leaving me feeling anxious and afraid. “We’re having spaghetti. And of course Lacey can stay,” I said turning to her. “She’s my best friend in the world.”
Lacey’s expression softened and she bumped me with her shoulder.
“Are you trying to make me cry?” she teased.
I smiled, feeling very tearful myself at that moment. “Nope, not at all.”
“Good,” she said brightly, reaching for Brady’s arm. “We’ll be in his bedroom. Studying.”
I wondered if everyone in the room heard the air quotes that Lacey practically mimed around the word studying. With that tone, she all but winked at me. And I would’ve been happy for her and amused by her behavior if it had been anybody but my brother she was putting in danger. Well, no, I could never be okay with knowingly putting someone in or allowing them to be put into danger, but it certainly would’ve been easier to swallow if it hadn’t been Brady.
They were just starting off down the hall when I spoke up.
“Actually, spaghetti doesn’t take very long, so I think I’ll do my homework before supper, too.”
Neither Brady nor Lacey argued, although I thought they both probably wanted to. My room was right next to Brady’s, very much within earshot of whatever went on in his room.
With a satisfied smile, I followed them back and then proceeded on past Brady’s door to my own. I left my door ajar so I could hear better. Of course, I got absolutely nothing done within the confines of my room; I was too busy listening for signs of distress coming from Brady’s.
I was just closing the book I was pretending to work out of when I began to feel an unusual hunger gnawing at my stomach. At
first, I thought it was just my body naturally signaling the proximity of meal time. But when my stomach growled, I realized that I felt two separate, very distinct kinds of hunger. One was related to the need for food, for physical nourishment. The other was a thirst for something else. It was a physical need, yes, very similar to hunger, but there was another element to it, a ravenous quality that seemed to originate somewhere in my soul. As soon as I recognized the difference, I plunged headfirst into worry.
I’d felt it before. A couple of times. And I knew what was coming.
Bolting into the hall, I flung open Brady’s door just in the nick of time. He and Lacey were facing each other on the bed, their knees nearly touching, each leaning forward. They were just about to kiss when I burst in. That’s not what scared me, though. What scared me was that Lacey’s plumage had already erupted from her back and Brady’s skin had turned that sickly gray I’d seen before. Both were panting heavily, although they hadn’t even touched yet. I could feel their thirst for each other, something far more potent than physical desire. I didn’t know if they even knew that it wasn’t desire they were feeling. I doubted they had any idea they were preparing to devour each other. But they were. I knew it. I could see it. And I had to stop it.
“You two just about finished? I was hoping Lacey could help me in the kitchen,” I confessed breathlessly, already gasping for air in the face of their power and what it was doing to me. I addressed Brady with my words rather than my stubborn friend, hoping he might have more sense. “If you’re not, she could go over some stuff with you while we cook.”
My interruption of their moment seemed to cool the ardor of their thirsts, both of them returning quickly to normal, much to my relief. But what about the next time? What if I had been a few minutes later?
Straightening my spine, I stood strong as both of them gave me the stink eye. A lesser-determined girl would’ve withered in the face of such scathing looks. But I was no such girl. My determination arose from staring down a likely life-or-death situation. This was no joking matter and they’d just have to suck it up.
As I waited for one or both of them to argue with me, I wondered what on earth I’d do then, if they refused. What if I couldn’t stop them? What if their appetites overcame me and I was helpless against them?
I thought my anxiety was at fever pitch until Brady looked me dead in the eye and calmly blew my hopes out of the water. At his words, my angst rose several notches, all the way to DefCon Five.
“It’s your turn to cook. We’ll come set the table when dinner is almost ready. School is more important than you two catching up on gossip.”
“It didn’t look like you two were working very hard when I came in,” I tossed out acerbically.
“Then maybe you should knock first, brat,” Brady suggested angrily, rising from the bed to physically guide me toward the door. His use of the insulting pet name he’d given me during childhood alerted me to his state of mind. He only called me brat when he was losing patience with me, something that happened very seldom these days.
In his rough, brotherly way, Brady pushed me through the door and shut it snugly behind me. With growing panic, I held my breath as I listened for him to turn the lock. I literally closed my eyes and prayed that he would not. And he didn’t. I didn’t release my breath until I heard the mattress springs squeak under his weight as he returned to his place beside Lacey.
I listened unabashedly at the door. I’m sure they knew I hadn’t yet moved away. When I heard them talking again, I made some noises that I hoped sounded like me receding from in front of Brady’s door. And then I leaned in to listen again.
They were talking and laughing so quietly, I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. Although it was very frustrating, I reminded myself that my hearing wasn’t what I needed to rely on most anyway. It wasn’t the sense that alerted me to the problem in the first place. I’d felt it stimulate the sixth sense with which I’d been recently endowed. I needed to learn to rely more on that, to hone that sense to radar precision so that my chances of averting disaster in the future would be greater.
I gently leaned my forehead against Brady’s door. Taking a deep breath, I closed my eyes and tried to drown out as much sensory data as I could, focusing all my attention on that feeling of hunger that still gnawed at my insides the tiniest bit. It was dramatically less, but it was still there. And it was enough to worry me.
Unlike what had happened minutes before, when the hunger hit this time, it crashed into me like a freight train going a thousand miles an hour. Like a physical force, it slammed into me, pushing me across the hall and pinning me to the wall opposite Brady’s door. I was stunned, deeply stunned, so several seconds had elapsed before I found my wits, and my feet.
Eventually, I managed to stagger across the narrow hallway and stumble through Brady’s door. When I entered his room this time, neither Brady nor Lacey glanced in my direction. And I barely noticed. They were both clearly consumed and I was nearly as far gone as they, struggling with every breath to hold onto my sanity, to my humanity, to my will to do anything more than feed—from either of them, from both of them. At that point, it was all a blur of hunger. I felt their need as if it were my own.
As I neared the bed, I felt the urges grow stronger within me. When I stopped in front of the dangerous duo, I reached out to touch them, lightly placing my hand on their shoulder. The contact enhanced my connection to them, sending sensation as well as a ravenous need rocketing through me. What small portion of my brain was still functioning as my own recognized that the side of me closest to Brady had already changed to mirror his likeness, my skin once again that odd gray color. My other arm had taken on what I assumed was another bit of Lacey’s affliction and my skin was shimmering and iridescent.
Just as it had happened when I’d been trapped between Brady and Trace during their change, I could feel the two forces warring inside me, fighting for dominance. My bottom lip prickled where my fangs, now extended, grazed them. My shoulder blades tingled with what I knew were beautiful pastel feathers that arose from them. And everything else inside me screamed out with the pain of being torn apart by the two.
I tried to push out against their influence, as I had with my brother and his best friend, to no avail. With every second that passed, I lost a little bit more of what made me me and became someone else entirely. Something else entirely. Even the panic that had managed to hold on, though tenuously, was quickly fading beneath the cover of an all-consuming need, and I couldn’t drum up enough concern to care, enough will to fight it. I was lost. And I knew it.
But for the roar of an electricity that could only be felt, not seen, there was absolute silence in the room. It was as though life as I knew it had ceased to exist and a strange new reality, a profound nothingness had taken its place.
Just before everything was lost, I felt the most incredible peace. And strength. And freedom. And love. Like a rescue mission arriving on the scene, I knew the instant Trace was near. I felt it the minute that he entered the room behind me. I felt it in my arms and chest where Brady and Lacey had taken over part of my body. I felt it in my heart, where love was the dominant emotion rather than an uncontrollable thirst for…something else. I felt it in my mind, with the easing away of all things that threatened to overcome me and the return of all things familiar.
When he stopped behind me and placed his hands on my upper arms, I felt my own will rise up and spread through my chest, down my arms and into Brady and Lacey where I still touched them. With eyes that were finally able to focus, I saw their strange visages dissolve into that which had always been.
A rush of fatigue suffused my body, sweeping my knees out from under me. But I didn’t fall. I didn’t move one inch closer to the floor. Trace’s hold on me was complete. Firm. Steady. Rock solid. He stepped in closer to me and pulled me back against his chest, supporting me with his strength. I felt it like a physical entity, permeating my skin and rolling through my body in steely wav
es.
Inch by inch, my flesh recovered. In the meantime, I listened to Trace’s heartbeat and watched with rapt fascination as Brady and Lacey became aware of their surroundings.
Brady was the first to find his tongue. He looked quizzically at me and then asked, “I thought I told you to knock.”
I had no response. I was flabbergasted that, once again, he seemed to have no clue what had happened, what was going on. I looked to Lacey. She said nothing, but there was a troubled expression that hovered around her eyes, giving her a haunted appearance. I knew I would have to address her in private later.
Shaking his head as if feeling addled, Brady looked past me to his best friend.
“What up, man? When did you get here?”
“Just have, bro. Just have,” Trace responded casually, carefully relaxing his grip on me, making sure I wouldn’t fall.
I knew Trace had no idea what was going on, but I also knew he’d felt something when he’d touched me. And, if I knew Trace, it was something he’d want to discuss later. And, trust me, I knew Trace.
I watched Brady’s expression change as he took in Trace’s hands on my upper arms, the probably intimate-appearing way I was leaning against him as he supported me. With great reluctance and more strength of will than I thought I possessed, I pushed myself forward and reached up to smooth my hair, effectively dislodging Trace’s hold on me. Casually, I stepped to the side, making sure to avoid eye or physical contact with Trace, and I turned my attention to Lacey.
“Seriously, Lace, if you don’t help me with supper, we’ll never get to eat.” I put as much lightheartedness into my observation as I could. And this time Lacey responded to my unspoken desperation, nodding absently and scooting off the bed.
“Then let’s get after it,” she said with an almost natural smile. Almost.
“Why don’t you two get the Xbox hooked back up so we can play Guitar Hero after supper. I think Lacey and I can take you two dorks. I’m feeling lucky.”
Playfully, I tossed them a challenging look, grabbed Lacey’s hand and proceeded to drag her still-sluggish body out the door. I could only hope that the boys would do what they usually did and get lost in friendly video game competition until time to eat. I wanted to keep them from fighting and becoming sworn enemies, but I also had to keep Lacey away from Brady. And at the moment, that was my top priority.