Of course, the moment I sat back on my heels and opened my eyes, he was there. Crouching before me, Jai gathered my books and stacked them, his eyes flickering with concern and, if I wasn’t mistaken, amusement. My face heated to core-of-the-earth temperatures.
“You okay, kid?” His lips quirked as he straightened to his feet, holding my stack of books in one hand while the other lowered to hover in front of my face.
Scowling at the kid comment, I swallowed my pride and accepted his outstretched hand. He hoisted me to standing, an infuriating smirk plastered to his lips.
“I’m not a child.” My snotty tone belied my words, and I blew a deep breath through pursed lips to calm my embarrassed anger. “I, um, I’m fine. Thank you.”
When I extended my arms for my books, he shifted them out of reach, his brow creased. “Okay, I get it. You don’t like being called kid. Sorry.”
“S’okay. It doesn’t matter.” I reached for my books again, and he, once again, denied me.
“It does matter,” he corrected sternly, and I withered under his intensity. Noting my reaction, he eased the ferocity in his eyes, his features softening. “It matters.”
Befuddled and admittedly uncomfortable, I shifted my weight as students passed us by on the sidewalk, grumbling about us standing in the way. “Um, okay. Can I have my books back?”
“Sure thing, kid.” He cringed at the slip, and I snickered as I accepted the stack of textbooks. I huffed under the weight, and Jai chuckled, eyeing me like he expected me to collapse. “You got it?”
“Yes,” I said too sharply, and I bit my tongue as guilt swarmed me. He was being helpful, and I was acting like a brat. “Yes, thank you. I got it from here.”
“Okay. Better get to it or you’ll be late to class.” He winked with a head-jerk in the direction of the Liberal Arts building.
Stiffening, I scrutinized him uneasily. “How do you know that?”
His expression froze for the minutest of moments, his eyes widening before he adopted his relaxed pose. “Well, you were in such a hurry, you fell flat on your face. Doesn’t take a genius to assume you’re running late.”
The logic was sound, yet my suspicion was hard to ignore. Instead of pressing the issue, I secured my grip on my books and dipped my head in a rigid nod. “Right, well, thanks. For my books.”
“Sure, sure.” He waved off my thanks, his attention already captured by a passing group of giggling girls. “Don’t mention it, Riley.”
“Okay, well, I gotta go,” I said as I made my escape, writing a mental note to ask him how he knew my name.
I spent that evening in the library, writing my makeup assignment for my cultural studies class. Well, that was the plan. But after staring at a blank screen for twenty minutes, I was ready to call it quits for the night. I had another week before it was officially due, but I learned years ago not to procrastinate.
“Don’t leave for tomorrow what you can do today, Riley,” Ms. Janet always said. “I’m not raising a lazy deadbeat, now, am I?” And I would shake my head and rush to obey her instructions.
Music, accompanied by crackling static, filtered through my secondhand, older than dirt earbuds, and the melody chased away the memories I would rather not dwell on. I shook my head to clear it of Ms. Janet’s voice. I needed to focus, or this essay would never get written.
After another ten fruitless minutes, I clicked away the document and checked my surroundings. The tables around me were mostly empty save for a few studying stragglers, and though it was irresponsible, I opened up my browser and started my online computer game. Maybe playing Zelda would help relax me and bring some inspiration for my essay. It wasn’t too bad to procrastinate sometimes. Right?
As my game loaded, a hand landed on my shoulder, tapping twice. I startled so violently I nearly tipped my computer off the table. My earbud fell from one ear as I twisted around, meeting colorless eyes. Noel beamed at me as he leaned his tall frame against the back of the chair beside mine. Removing my second earbud, I smiled shyly in response to his disarming grin.
“Is this seat taken?”
His melodic voice trickled over my skin like a pleasant vibration as I glanced around the mostly empty library, taking note of all the vacant tables and chairs. He had his choice of the room, but if he wanted to sit by me, I wouldn’t refuse. I shook my head in answer and gestured for him to take a seat. His smile brightened, and he noiselessly folded himself into the chair with the grace of a ballerino.
“H-hello,” I whispered as he tucked his long, straight hair behind his ear with nimble fingers.
“Hi.” He captured his full bottom lip between his teeth as he cautiously plucked my abandoned earbud from where it hung off my shoulder and brought it to his own ear. My cheeks warmed in embarrassment, and I expected him to tease me for my taste in music like Brian always did. According to Brian, it was “faggot noise,” but Noel didn’t make fun of me. Instead, he hummed along a few bars. “I like this song.”
“Me, too.” I replaced my second earbud as Noel bobbed his head to the melody, and satisfaction swelled my chest. His attention shifted to my screen, and I clicked away the game, caught red-handed. A pale brow cocked in feigned reprimand, and I blushed. “I was taking a break.”
Nudging my shoulder gently with his, he snickered at my bashful reaction. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.” He nodded at my computer. “What is it?”
I nibbled on the inside of my cheek as I hesitantly reopened the tab. “Legend of Zelda.”
His slender finger pointed to my avatar in green. “Is that Zelda?”
“No, that’s Link. Zelda is the princess.”
“Ah, let me guess.” Noel leaned in, dropping his voice like we were sharing in a conspiratorial conversation. “He needs to rescue her, doesn’t he?”
I nodded with an amused snort. “How’d you know?”
“Princesses have a knack for going missing.” He winked, his eyes gleaming playfully.
“Maybe it’s in the contract.” My lips spread into a genuine smile as he threw his head back with a quiet but no less exuberant laugh, filling our little part of the library with wind chimes.
“Maybe.” He tittered under his breath as he pulled his white locks into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, and his floral scent—like Ms. Janet’s lilac bushes she planted outside the living room window—teased my nose as the air between us shifted. Just like the first time, my blood hummed with familiarity as I inhaled the pleasant aroma, and nostalgia washed over me anew.
He changed the subject, chasing away the déjà vu. “So, you like computer games, huh?”
“Yeah, I guess.” I fingered my mousepad as I peeked at him from the corner of my eye. “Do, uh, do you wanna play?”
With a self-deprecating smile, he shrugged. “I don’t know how.”
“It’s easy.” I positioned the computer between us on the table, gauging his reaction in case he was only being polite. “I can show you, if you want.”
Noel studied my screen before returning his fascinating eyes to mine with a nod. “I’d like that very much.” The light facets of purple in his eyes spread from his pupils like starbursts, and I was momentarily stunned stupid by their beauty. “Riley?”
My fingers trembled at the way his voice curled around my name, and my stomach did a cartwheel. I tore my gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes as an odd buzz lit my veins. It wasn’t unpleasant, per say, but I had never felt anything quite like it before. The foreignness frightened me.
I focused on the screen where Link stood, awaiting instruction, as my heart rate calmed. “Um, we can take turns.”
“Okay.” Noel scooted his chair closer to mine, and the warmth of his arm burned into my shoulder through our layers of clothing. I shivered, then began my tutorial.
We played Zelda for almost an hour, and he caught on quickly, his elegant fingers flying over my keyboard as he sent Link through the levels. He laughed easily at his mistakes, which usually led to me making my own mi
stakes—his chiming laughter was distracting. But it was fun, and judging from his exuberant grin, he thought so, too.
He asked me about the other games I liked, and though he admittedly lacked gaming knowledge, he let me ramble. I wasn’t a big talker, yet I filled the silence between us with shocking ease. It must have been the sincere interest in his expression.
In general, people talked more than they listened, and I learned at an early age to keep my thoughts and opinions to myself. Foster parents didn’t want a chatterbox, after all, and I didn’t want to be a bother. But Noel acted as if every word that came from my mouth was vitally important. As if, in our little corner of the library, I was significant. It was nice.
“Thanks for letting me play with you.” Noel removed the earbud he’d been using. “That was fun.”
I coiled my earphones and placed them on the table, pushing through the nerves fluttering in my stomach. “Yeah, it was. We can play anytime you want.”
Clearly pleased, his entire face glowed as he carefully tucked one of my curls behind my ear, the tip of his finger grazing my earlobe. “I’d like that.”
My face heated under his stare, and I pulled away from his touch and busied myself with cleaning up my laptop. “Um, okay.”
“I should go.” Noel rose abruptly, smoothing a palm over his hair. “I’ll see you later, Riley.”
“Oh, okay.” I raised my hand in a wave as he backed away. “Bye.”
“Bye.” His eyes looked past me, and I followed his gaze automatically only to yelp at the sudden appearance of a body at my other side.
“Hi, Riley,” Kayla greeted boisterously. “Were you talking to someone?”
I nodded, turning to introduce Noel, but I choked on the words when my eyes landed on the spot by the bookcase where he’d been standing. It was empty. I rubbernecked in search of his white hair, but he was nowhere to be found. How had he left so quickly?
“Um, just a friend,” I mumbled, and Kayla’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “I don’t know where he went.”
“I didn’t see anyone. I thought you were on the phone.” She shrugged, then leaned over the table until her chest was uncomfortably close to my face. “Anyway, I’m glad I found you. We need to talk.”
“We do?”
We never spent time together just the two of us, but she nodded like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Mhm. Walk with me?”
With my belongings half packed away, it was obvious I was preparing to leave and had no reason to refuse her. I nodded grudgingly and tucked my computer into my bag as Kayla texted on her phone. Smiling like she discovered the cure for cancer, she hooked her arm through mine and hauled me out of the library.
We walked like this for several minutes, and I grew increasingly uncomfortable at the forced contact. I didn’t mind walking arm in arm with Bethany, but Kayla’s sickly sweet perfume and tight hold was disconcerting. I wished she would let me go.
“So, I’m sorry for ignoring you the past few weeks,” she finally said, and I offered a noncommittal grunt since I wasn’t sorry at all. “I know you felt bad about spilling my drink, but the dry cleaners got the stain out so, no harm, no foul.”
She thought I spilled her drink? Is that why she was giving me the cold shoulder? That was completely illogical.
“So, I forgive you.” Her tone conveyed exactly how generous she found her offering, and I withered under her expectant stare.
Not knowing what else to do, I nodded with a mumbled, “Thanks.”
She nodded and patted my head like I was a pet that pleased her. “Now that we’re friends again, I wanted to personally invite you to the party this weekend. It’s at my sorority house, but it’s only gonna be close friends, so nothing crazy.”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t—”
“Bethany’s gonna be there,” she interrupted like I hadn’t spoken, her tone less enthusiastic. “I know you guys are like bosom buddies or whatever, so like, there’s that.” She leaned into me, her breath fanning over my jaw. “Between you and me, I always thought she was a little plain, you know?”
I pulled my arm out of her grasp, affronted on behalf of my first and very best college friend. “I think Bethany’s pretty.” My cheeks flamed immediately at the confession, and Kayla’s expression darkened.
“She has a boyfriend.”
“I know.” I squeezed the strap of my bookbag until my knuckles whitened. “It’s not bad to think friends are pretty. I don’t want to date her.”
She smiled then, her frustration evaporating. “Oh. Good.”
We came to a stop where the sidewalk branched into three, and I stumbled back when she stepped right up to me, invading my personal bubble. “So, are you coming to the party?”
“I don’t really like parties,” I said to deflect, shifting back on my heels to add space between us.
“It’s not gonna be anything huge. I told the girls to keep it small.” She read my hesitance, and her face fell, eyes glistening as her lip pouted. “You never come to my parties, Riley. I thought we were friends!”
We were? I didn’t think so. Friends were supposed to like being around each other, and that didn’t apply to us. Yet guilt settled in my stomach all the same.
“Kayla—”
“Jesus, can’t you just do this for me?” Her tone cooled, clearly disappointed in me, and I curled in on myself as my stomach twisted into knots.
I didn’t want to go to a party. I wasn’t allowed to go to a party! If Ms. Janet ever found out I even contemplated attending such a thing, she’d drag me home for the weekend to punish me. But Kayla was cross with me, like I had failed her somehow, and my conditioned response was automatic. Surrender. Submission. It was easier this way, and I nodded, even as my mind rebelled against the agreement.
Her entire demeanor changed, and she threw her arms around my shoulders with a shrill squeal. “Oh, Riley, you’re the best! You won’t regret this, I promise.”
I already regretted this, but I sealed my mouth shut as I fought against the panic clawing its way up my throat from the feel of her arms around me.
Let go, let go, let go!
“Ow!” She stumbled away from me, and I instinctively reached to steady her so she wouldn’t fall. She caught herself on her own, and, after giving me an odd once-over, she giggled nervously. “You shocked me.”
“Oh, uh, s-sorry.”
Her lips quirked, a mix between a smile and a grimace. “Okay, so, I’ll see you Saturday.” She spun on her heels before I could answer, either in confirmation or denial, and strutted down the sidewalk, swinging her hips.
I should have called after her. I should have said no. But I merely stood there like a statue as she disappeared into the twilight.
Ugh, what the heck just happened? I didn’t want to go to a party! Just the notion made me nauseous, and now, I had to concoct an elaborate lie to get myself out of this. Maybe I would come down with a deadly disease Friday night, and against all odds, I would miraculously recover by Monday. That sounded believable.
When I arrived at my room ten minutes later, the door had barely shut behind me before my vibrating cell phone clattered against the wood of my side table. Brian’s bed was empty, the room dark save for the glow of my prepaid phone, and I staggered across the room to answer the call. I never used my ancient cell phone, and I constantly forgot it in my room when I went to class. Only one person knew my phone number, anyway, and I did not want to keep her waiting.
I dumped my computer bag on my bed and snatched the rattling phone from my side table. Ms. Janet’s name flashed on the small front screen, and I swallowed my nerves as I flipped it open and pushed the green button to accept her call.
“H-hello?” My voice caught on the simple word, and I cleared my throat to repeat myself when Ms. Janet’s stern voice chided in my ear.
“Riley Shepard, why didn’t you answer your phone? This is the second time I’ve called. It’s a Tuesday night after your curfew. Why were you not in your ro
om?” With every question, her disapproval mounted and my stomach coiled.
“I was at the library and ran into a” —I searched for the right word— “friend. I didn’t want to be rude, so we talked a bit. I lost track of time. I’m sorry.”
She clucked her tongue in disappointment, and I wrapped my free arm around my now aching stomach. “I expect you to be more responsible than that. Do you think I have time to just sit around waiting for you to take my calls? It’s very rude of you to waste my time this way.”
“Yes, ma’am. I’m sorry,” I murmured.
“Don’t mumble. It’s terribly impolite,” she said.
I straightened my spine, my voice louder as I echoed, “Yes, ma’am.”
“What friend would keep you out after curfew? Not a very good one, apparently. You would do well to choose your friends more wisely. The last thing you need is distractions from your studies.”
“She’s more of an acquaintance.” The words escaped before I could stop them, and the other end of the line fell dead silent. Dread strangled my lungs as I searched my surroundings for a physical escape to the phone call. “Um, I mean—”
“She?” Voice cold as ice, she waited for me to respond, but I had no words. I nodded, though she couldn’t see me as tears stung my eyes. “You lost track of time? With a girl?”
A tear snaked down my cheek, shame drowning me. “Yes, ma’am. She was in the library, and—”
“And what did you do with her? Did you find a secluded place to engage in sin? Did you defile yourself, you wicked boy?”
I imagined her thin, white lips pressed into an irate line, her face flushed with rage as she spat into the phone, and I shook my head. “No, Ms. Janet, please. It wasn’t like that. I don’t really know her, and when she asked to walk with me, I didn’t want to be rude. But I didn’t, we didn’t—please, I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
Revelations: Fire & Brimstone Scroll 1 Page 5