The fate of all would be decided here, upon this stark, unwholesome plane…
She exhaled a slow, drawn out sigh, pushing such morbid thoughts aside for now. There would be time enough for them in the days and weeks to come, she more than certain of it. Better to keep her mind on things significant to current events versus things about which she could only speculate.
She pulled her head up from her forelegs, shaking her great head from side to side, letting her ears flop noisily against the sides of her skull, massaging more than just the stiffness in her neck.
From the far corner of the cave, she saw Garfield lift his head and peer in her direction. His pupils were wide and glowing in the near-darkness of the cave. He seemed on the verge of getting up from his supine position.
So she, knowing he could see her more clearly in the dark than she could see him, wagged her head in the negative, sending him a wordless message - it wasn’t quite time for his watch.
He eased himself back down, shaking his head as well, though more out of disgust than anything else.
Kenai smiled in spite of herself. That was one grumpy feline. The fact he had such a low tolerance for anything out of the ordinary it was downright pitiful.
She let her own head fall back to her rest upon her legs, thinking of the little boy who now had the weight of the four universes resting upon his narrow shoulders, all thoughts of Garfield long forgotten. I have missed so much of you, Little Bouncy Hair, thought the bear-dog, the image of seven-year-old Anthony flooding into her mind. And, I can only barely fathom what I have missed. You have grown so much and have become strong in the mind. Always, have I been proud to belong to you, because you always made me feel special, even when I was bad and tore up the precious plantlings belonging to the Lady with the Long Hair. You always seemed to have understood me, stood up for me and that prepared me for what was to come. My memories of you, those first four years were of the very best of my life. They have always provided me with the strength I needed when I needed it the most.
I do not think I could have survived a place such as this, if I had not been for the collection of remembrances of you.
Now, look at us, set up against the worst of the worst.
I will not let you down!
~~~~~~~~<<<<<<{ ☼ }>>>>>>~~~~~~~~
~ 70 ~
Behind Mysterious Doors
Day Three, Saturday, 7:10 am…
He sleeps like a little boy, she thought as she watched him, lying next to her wrapped up in a blanket of his own, facing her, close. His head was no more than seven inches from the tip of her nose. She stared at him with the same scrutiny she’d done since the very moment she’d met the sixteen-year-old teen. There was something about him making her want to gaze his way. No matter how much she tried to divine a sensible reason why, she couldn’t.
He wasn’t the most handsome young man she’d ever laid eyes on. He wasn’t the best built either. Though he was smart, he was nothing like the “brainiacs” she sometimes sat next to in her AP classes. His long angular nose ended in a medium sized bulb, widened somewhat wider than the norm, but it wasn’t unsightly. It matched his high set cheeks bones, giving the lower portion of his face a triangular aspect to it. His chin was blunted at the end, sprouting a few straggles of hair, but it was in no way chiseled. When she backed away and looked at him from afar, it appeared pointy, an entirely different shape than when peered at him up close. His complexion was light for a Hispanic, which his sister Elena seemed to have in common with him (Mikalah’s skin was dark, more golden, and much more traditional in appearance) and, like most boys she knew, he struggled with acne and the like. She let her eyes wonder over his skin, realizing, despite the many pimples upon his face, it did appear he took the time the keep his skin as clean as possible. She didn’t see many blackheads or infected pores.
What is it about you…? she thought again, letting her vision dance over his long, wavy hair, which in her opinion was his best feature. It was thick and lustrous as always. Again, she felt herself thinking of the many girls who would die to have their hair look as naturally vibrant and healthy as his.
He moved suddenly in his sleep, his forehead creasing with some unwelcomed thought, before it smoothed out. He relaxed back into a more rhythmic slumber. A thick, long lock of his hair fell across his face when he moved, but it didn’t obstruct the entire view of him.
She focused on his broad, pale-skinned forehead, wondering over and over in her mind. Why him? Why now? She wasn’t really into guys that looked straight out of a fashion magazine. They were always too full of themselves or really, really dumb. She just didn’t have the time for that type of tedium. Muscles-guys were usually into their bodies to such an extreme, they felt they should be worshipped and complimented with every millimeter of bulk they added week over week. The smart jocks usually felt like they were God’s gift to women and almost always treated girls as such. Whereas the dumb ones just wanted nothing more than to get laid and typically had a hard time understanding the word “no”, so she stayed away from them as well. For the most part, this was the reason why well-built guys didn’t really attract her either. She figured that explained away two of the things Anthony wasn’t, but then there were the intelligent guys, like the ones in the Magnet program she attended. They were usually nice and polite, if not overly shy, but sometimes… well, if challenged, sometimes they could become defensive to the point of obsession. They could turn quite mean. It had always surprised her when the nicest, ninety-pound nerd could turn so incredibly angry at her, if she happened to disagree with him on something as obscure as String Theory or the taxation levels in the Thirteen Colonies of the New World. Most of them came across as ridiculous to her. They were nothing more than very knowledgeable people with superficial minds. It was the thought that always came to mind when she thought of the few times one of her male classmates had gone off on her.
No, Anthony was none of those archetypes. He wasn’t a Biker Dude or a Cholo. He wasn’t a Rich Kid or a Skater. He said he hung around musicians, but he wasn’t one himself. He liked classic rock, but listened to a lot of other types of music as well. He was a big-time online gamer, but really didn’t bring that sort of persona to school with him.
Who are you?
She looked his face over once again; her hands under her cheek, feeling her head shake back and forth in confusion.
He was sweet and soft spoken. He had manners, real manners, and so far, he had treated her with the upmost of respect, always asked permission to sit next to her, and always asked her if she needed anything. He was kind and gentle, and carried himself well. He didn’t come across as arrogant or haughty. He never looked down his nose at anyone. He seemed fair and confident, taking in stride the tremendous amount of responsibility placed upon his shoulders.
And still, there was more.
What she liked the most about him was he was a good brother. He went out of his way to make sure his sisters were clean, saw they were fed properly and made as comfortable as they could be cooped up in a cave in the middle of this raging snow storm. This is what most impressive about him, being six years older than Elena (even older in that regard to Mikalah) and still he had the maturity to care for them without rancor or resentment. Most kids their age would eventually rankle at having to take care of little children, seeing to their every need, attending their ragged emotions and oftimes flighty moods.
Anthony didn’t convey any nonverbal message to any around him that it bothered him in way, shape or form. He merely took care of his sisters and said very little about having to do so.
He must have wonderful parents, she thought knowing most children react to given situations based on what they see at home, every day - those are the habits that stick. His mother and father must have gone out of their way to teach him something cool. He would probably be a good parent himself… one day… if…
He stirred again, opening and closing his mouth, then licking his lips, leaving a thin sheen twinkling i
n the small, flickering flames of the fire.
Someone must have put a log or two to the fire pit, she thought suddenly, because the luminance in the cave had increased from the time she had awakened until now. Maybe one of the Fist wishes us to know it is daylight outside, she mused, her eyes still on the boys lips as they slowly dried. Not that we could tell if it was in fact daylight outside.
The thought petered out in her mind.
Suddenly, she wanted very much to feel Anthony’s lips on hers.
He had thin lips for a young man, colored a surprisingly rich rose-pink. Even in the semi-darkness, she could tell. They appeared soft to her, thin, but full and billowy. Even moreso, she was compelled to feel them on hers. It was like nothing she ever experienced before. She actually wanted to kiss him. She just had to know how they felt! Why!?! she yelled internally. Why was this happening to her? She’d had her share of kisses and make-out session with guys in the past, but those had always been planned or in a socially acceptable setting. If a boy took her out and was a gentleman, she might give him a peck at the front door of her house when he dropped her off. Alternatively, if she had been dating someone for a while, she might allow a period of kissing and light petting. Correct? That’s what teenagers did when they dated, they made out… Well, some went a whole lot farther, but that wasn’t her thing… at least, not yet.
But, this was different, this was almost a need.
Frankly, it scared her. She hardly knew him. She had spent some time with him, had talked with him, but she hadn’t done any of that for any length of time. How could he illicit such feelings already?
For him, feeling!?! Were they real feelings? Was this finally that something she had wondered about in the past? Was this desire? Finally? Could it lead to something more…? Could it be, after all of this time, a boy could stir her in places other than her heart and her mind? Oh no! she thought and forced herself to turn from him and gazed up at the uneven ceiling above, the growing light from the fire already revealing the various cave formations growing before her gaze. This could be bad… What I am doing? Do I even like the guy? She lay there, on her back, lost in her own thoughts, searching her mind and her heart, wondering, lost, unsure like never before. But, he is such a sweet boy… he sleeps like a baby… Who am I fooling? Myself? I’ve known for some time now -.
“Oh my god!” she said.
“’Oh my god’ what?” came a male voice, directly at her side, drowsy with sleep, the tones slow and heavy sounding.
She winced, not realizing she’d said it aloud. She turned her head to gaze over at Anthony, who was rubbing at his eyes, staring back as he wiped the sleep from them. “I didn’t realize I’d said it out loud, sorry if I woke you,” she deflected, unsure if she was ready to explain herself to him.
No, no, no! This was all too soon!
“That’s alright, gauging by the level of the fire, I’m assuming it’s time to get up anyhow,” he muttered quietly through clenched teeth as he stretched languorously on the bedding.
She stayed silent, her eyes wondering over his form. She was able to see more now, because he only wore a dark colored t-shirt with Nirvana printed across the chest, his jeans, and socks. He’d left all the rest of his clothing folded in a neat pile atop his shoes at the foot of the makeshift bed. She had deposited hers there as well, though she still slept in her sweater. She watched his long, thin arms as they tightened with his movements. She was somewhat surprised again to see he was muscular. No, lithe was a better-suited word to describe him, she deemed. Unwittingly, her expression changed. She was considering, contemplating… him.
The first time she had seen his taut upper body was when he’d come out of the washing area to hang his clothes along the lines he and Andrew had strung about the stalactites. She had blinked rapidly at the sight of his defined chest and abdomen. Not that they bulged, as would Joaquin’s, she surmised. Still though, she could see he was just as solid. There was not an ounce of fat on him, anywhere. Though she couldn’t see as much of him now, the sight of his arms combined with the memory from the day before was enough to distract her into silence. She was warm. Her skin felt prickly all over – sensitive, nerve-endings firing continuously.
“You wanna wash up and go sit by the fire until everyone else wakes up?” he said quietly as he finished getting the kinks out of his body, swiveling his head to peer in her direction. He came up short at the look on her face. “Sophie?” he inquired, one eyebrow raised above the other.
She shook her head, clearing her thoughts. Jeez-zuz, what the hell is wrong with me!?! She met his eyes and felt herself flush with embarrassment as he smiled a small smile of encouragement. This is not fair! He is making me fall over myself like a little girl all sprung on her older brother’s best friend! I’m a not goddamned cliché!
“What did you say?” she managed after she rediscovered she could speak.
Anthony giggled at her, which made her blush even more. To her utter mortification, he seemed to notice this time. His tittering trailed off. He turned his head slightly to the side, his eyes a bit wide. “Are you alright?” he whispered hoarsely, scrutinizing her face, making her all the more uncomfortable.
“Y-yes, Tony. I’m fine,” she stammered. She sat up slowly, not wanting to disturb Elena and Mikalah, who were still sleeping soundly. She wiped her hair from her face and knuckled at her eyes, feeling him sit up next to her, his head leaning toward her as he whispered in her ear.
“You sure, you’re ok?”
She hoped to God her face had returned to normal. “I’m sure,” she replied in hushed tones, flustered by his warm breath on the nape of her neck. Though he hadn’t intended for her to react to it any manner, she shivered, tingles of electricity bolting down her spine.
He seemed to consider her answer for a spell, then shrugged it all away. “Come on, let’s go get cleaned up and sit by the fire until the others wake-up. Yeah, ok?” He stood slowly, holding out his hand.
She swallowed hard in spite of herself, but steeled her will and reached out with her right hand, taking his much larger hand within hers. He tugged lightly, pulling her to her feet and closer toward him. Not sure why, she let herself bump into him, which made him snicker, but he didn’t say anything. He steadied her by holding her left elbow with his other hand.
She gazed up at him, realizing the discomfiture of a few moments ago was gone. Instead of blushing, she looked up boldly at him, her mind clear enough to wonder at his reaction. It shocked her when she understood she was willing to go out on a limb to find out. She wanted to be in his arms.
He peered down at her, searching her face to see if anything was amiss, if she was about to ask something of him or tell him something. When she remained silent, he looked at her for a moment or two longer, he gave her elbow a quick squeeze. Then, suddenly he bent down -,
Oh my god!
-and scooped up the rest of his clothing, including his shoes, motioning to her. “Get your stuff, ma’ dear, let’s go brush our teeth.” He turned and took a few steps toward the partitioned washing area with her staring after him with a questioning look on her face, a squint in her eye.
Was he really not as affected by her as she was him or was he just really good at hiding it? she thought, when he abruptly swung back to face her with a broad grin on his face.
His eyebrows arched up and down as he mouthed, “Come on!”
She felt a sly grin etch her lips.
He felt it too… he was just playing around. What a brat! she accused, but that still didn’t stop her from letting her eyes drop to his lips once again.
They were so pink!
*****
They sat next to each other on the side of the fire furthest from their companions. They had already brushed their teeth, washed their faces and relieved themselves in the privy hole Jason had screened off toward the front of the cave. Sophie wasn’t sure if Anthony chose to sit there, so they could speak without risking the chance of waking everyone up or if he wanted a
degree of privacy with her or if he’d merely sat down randomly. The boy’s calm, cool veneer was confusing her.
“…the time to really talk to you alone and get to know you. With everything going on and all, it has just been difficult to get quality time without someone else listening,” Anthony was saying, his true intention readily upon his face.
Ah-Ha!
He had indeed wanted to get her alone. Like her, he didn’t want to waste an occasion such as this. Though she tried to conceal it, she was, a little anxious. Maybe he does like me.
Wait? What?
She glanced down and noticed he was sitting as close to her as possible, though he faced her at the same time. Their knees were only a fraction of an inch apart.
“It’s not like I’m super shy or anything,” he went on, “but sometimes, you know, things should be said privately.”
This made her frown and then grin a second later with comprehension. “What are you saying?” she asked, each word said faster than the last.
“Well, um, nothing specific…,” he seemed to catch himself as if he had said more than he’d intended to reveal. “I was just stating a matter of… fact, I guess… or possibly explaining conditions here in the cave…?” He ended as if he were asking a question of her, as if to throw the ball back in her court for approval.
“I see,” she nodded back at him, trying not to smile too deeply.
His face relaxed a bit as though she had eased some tension within him. He looked away, then back at her with a more direct cast to his expression.
“Can I ask you something?” He looked in her eyes.
Her smile teetered. “Yeah… I mean, yes,” she said awkwardly, her heart fluttering with trepidation all of a sudden. Moreso, by the fact her moods kept changing so quickly. So stupidly, more like! She could barely keep up with the feelings, the thoughts rushing through her.
The Unwanted Winter - Volume One of the Saga of the Twelves Page 63