by Sherry Soule
“What’re you thinking?” he asks.
“Right now, I don’t want to think about anything.”
One corner of his mouth lifts. “Me either. I just want to enjoy holding you in my arms.” He brings his cheek to mine, his breath hot on my ear. “If you think about it, love is the one emotion we can’t control. One that can even overpower common sense. I didn’t plan on loving you, but once it became clear I was in deep, despite our differences, it felt like something extraordinary happened...do you know what I mean?”
“Yeah, I think I do,” I whisper.
He pulls back slightly, a corner of those kissable lips kicks up. “How’s your date with Saxton going?”
“It’s not a date.”
“Have you told him that?” His blue and green stare is impassioned. “Because he looks like he wants to hook up in the storage closet.”
“Just admit it, Hayden Lancaster, you’re jealous.”
He scoffs. “Jealous? Of that unintelligent subspecies? Please.”
I jerk my hand free from his. “Hayden,” I warn softly. “At least he’s honest with me, which is more than I can say for you.” My throat closes over the words and tears spill from my eyes.
We stop dancing in the middle of the floor, unaware of the other couples forced to move around us.
“That guy’s honest? He has an agenda—I can feel it.”
I stiffen, then count to thirteen so I don’t punch him. “And what’s yours?”
“Excuse me?” He arches his brows. “Why do you sound upset?”
While my blood is suddenly boiling hot enough to spew lava, my voice sounds quietly calm. “I get the whole protection crap, but are you actually going to keep lying to my face?”
“Lying about what? I tell you what you need to know.”
“So do infomercials, but they don’t tell you everything, either.”
“You got me there. Look, I came tonight to apologize.” Frustration punctuates each of his words. He grabs my elbow, leading me off the dance floor and over to a dark secluded corner where we can be alone. “I’ve been thinking, actually doing some soul searching, and I want us to start over. You’re the girl I love, and I want to live a normal, happy life with only you. Maybe we can do it. Just stick up our middle finger at the world and go for it.”
“Uh-huh.” My hands shake. “Until Sector Thirteen mind-wipes my memories, or your parents force you to marry that girl—what’s her name—Neely or Needy to keep the bloodline secure.”
He gasps, his eyes go big and round. “You heard Arcane and me tonight?”
“You bet your ass, I did!”
Tension ripples in the space between us. He shifts his weight, his eyes tight. His expression turns gray and sullen, which is probably how I look when I give a movie I’ve been excited about less than a stellar review.
“The truth is…” His are eyes desperate, pleading. “Whenever I’m near you, I’m a better me, and when you’re away, I’m only half the man I hope to be. Because all I ever wanted was to be with you—”
“I think it’s time you proved it.” I cross my arms.
“I will, I promise,” he says, his voice thickening. “I’m going to figure this out, okay?”
My heart is no longer a trustworthy companion. Hayden’s lies have created a mountain of distrust between us, and there’s no climbing to the top and finding forgiveness so easily.
“No more excuses! Ugh, I can’t take it anymore! All the lies, the deception.” A sob swells in my throat. “I am so sick of playing this game with you—and I can’t do it any longer.” I turn to stamp off the dance floor, but he grips my arm to stop me. I turn to face him, yanking my arm free of his grasp.
“I’m not a liar.”
“Yeah, you are.” I step away from his body, drawing in a deep breath as I achieve some distance. “So you’re engaged? Going to be a leader? And the Zetas are returning? When were you going to decide I needed to know all that, huh?” My voice sounds shrill and loud.
I ignore the curious looks from our classmates. Over Hayden’s shoulder, I spot Arcane, Zach, and Viola all watching us. My gaze snaps back to his.
“You should go home.” There’s a sardonic twist to his lips, as if he thinks my outburst is childish. “This isn’t the place for us to have a fight.”
My hands curl into fists at my sides. “Why not? Maybe it’s time to put your promises into action. Like us being together in public and you helping my dad launch an integration program.”
A bizarre edginess engulfs me as we heatedly stare at each other. Neither of us speaks or moves. His chest rises and falls, the kaleidoscopic of his strange eyes shifting by degrees. Hayden slices me through the middle with that unflinching look of his. I draw in another deep breath, but the air hitches in my throat. I’m so sick of our romantic rollercoaster ride.
“You want the ugly truth?” Every inch of him stiffens. “I’m expected to join the GB as the next generation of leaders, and Zach’s supposed to join a special forces team and use his abilities to fight wars and become some sort of elite assassin.” A muscle in his jaw ticks. “Neither of us is thrilled about our futures. I want to go to college and my brother wants to pay pro ball, but do you think either of us will get to follow our dreams? No! Our lives have already been planned out for us—and it blows!”
I take a step back, blinking back tears. “I had no idea, but you could’ve told me all this sooner, Hayden.” My anger softens somewhat and my posture relaxes. “And I don’t think a rebellion is going to solve your problems, or mine.”
He shakes his head, his long bangs flopping into his face. “I keep underestimating you, Peaches.”
“You’re damn right about that.”
“I’m sorry you had to find out this way.” The muscles around his mouth spasm, as if he doesn’t want to go on.
“Why can’t you just be honest with me?” My voice sounds cold and strange, like it’s coming from somewhere outside myself. “Tell me the truth! Are you friggin’ engaged or not?”
Hayden turns his head, and doesn’t deny it. All the suffering, confusion, and soul-crushing sorrow of the past few weeks, then the stupid hope that we’ll find a way to be together—crushed.
None of this is real. A nightmare. A horror movie. A horror movie about a nightmare that I’m starring in forever.
I shove his shoulder. “Can you at least tell me she’s ugly? Or has a tail?”
A long moment of silence. I have no idea what to believe.
Raw hurt crushes my chest when he remains quiet. “I’m done, Hayden.”
“Done?”
“Yeah, I get it now. You have no idea how much I get it.” My hands bunch into fists. “Complicated family issues? Check. Complicated relationship? Check. Things so complicated that you can’t even contemplate dating me again? Double-check. It’s fine. We talked about everything, and didn’t find a solution. We dated once upon a time and it was epic, but then things got even more…complicated and before we knew it, reality set in.”
Hayden shuffles his feet and bites his lip. “Yeah, but I’m—”
“I swear to god if you say you’re sorry one more time, I’m gonna punch you.”
“But I am—”
“No more apologies!” I snap.
Arguing with him is like dueling with hand-grenades, everything turns into an explosive fight and leaves me shaken and bruised. Too much relationship drama.
I want to get out of here. Leave this lame dance. Get far away from him. I need to be able to think. My breathing is shallow. I can’t really hold the fiancé thing against Hayden when it happened without his consent before he was born, but he should’ve trusted me with the truth. But all the rest? Yeah, that’s gonna take a lot longer to get over.
Saxton reappears and touches my arm. “You ready to go?”
“Oh, yeah,” I say. “More than ready.” I gather my dignity, grab Saxton’s hand, and stalk to the exit.
FRIGHT NIGHT BABBLE
Hey there, G
rinning Gremlins!
These campy horror clichés make me wanna throw popcorn at the screen!
Why whenever teens go camping or venture into the spooky forest, the writers usually have the same lame stereotypes? Like the big-breasted chick, the jerkwad athlete, the wisecracking black person, the geeky dude, the nice virgin, and the hot male lead. Blech!
Wanna predict who survives this flick?
The female virgin, and sometimes her boyfriend, too. Although, it could turn out like that film Cabin in the Woods.
Just once, I wish a Black, Latino, or Asian character would be the lone survivor. Or any race filmmakers include to have the characters more ethnically diverse.
But my favorite trope is that the last survivor (often referred to as the “Final Girl”) of any thriller or slasher film is usually a woman. Men are somehow incapable of surviving the horror genre. Sorry guys!
Peace, love, and horror flicks,
Sloane
THIRTY-ONE
Saxton drives us away from the senior prom to a cold and extremely dark part of the oak forest. Neither of us says much on the ride, and Saxton must sense my attempt to control my anger at Hayden, because he’s smart enough not to ask me what the argument was about.
Tonight the sky is barren of stars or a moon. The senior prom’s after-party is in full swing, when Saxton and I trump to the clearing, where a roaring fire blazes in a stone pit and two ice chests sit a few yards away. Lawn chairs and two fallen logs surround the bonfire. Kids are roasting marshmallows and drinking beers and sodas. I doubt Hayden will be brave enough to show his face after out epic fight at the dance.
Raymond, my frenemy Tanisha, and Viola sit together on one log, and Zach is lounging in a chair with his ankles crossed beside my best friend. Zach’s all dressed up in a tailored dark blue suit and shiny dress shoes—the first time I’ve never seen him in anything other than baggy basketball shorts, high-tops, and T-shirts. Tanisha and Ray share a blue blanket draped over their laps and sip soda from red plastic cups. Saxton and I pause near the group of about twenty seniors all partying illegally in the woods.
“…and when those acceptance letters and emails start rolling in, I’ll be freaking out that I won’t get into my safety school,” Raymond says with a groan.
“I already got into my top pick. I’m gonna strut across that graduation stage like Beyoncé!” Tanisha exclaims.
As I stand there, this horrid realization looms over me like a huge, thick, dark shadow. The ugly truth of Hayden’s engagement and impending leadership status. The certainty of what type of lying, deceiving boy he really is. Someone I can no longer trust. My mind races and my blood throttles through my veins. I still can’t believe he’s destined to become a future leader of the Meleah. What a manipulative liar he turned out to be. And I really hate that stupid saying, ‘The truth shall set you free.’ It can in no way set me free. It only screwed up my life fifty ways to Sunday.
Deep breaths, Sloane.
The shadow gradually descends. If I let it overtake me, there’s no turning back. I have to keep it from swallowing me whole.
“Ugh! There’s a nasty mosquito biting me!” Emma shrieks and slaps at the skin on her neck. “Get it off!”
Kaitlyn whips out a can of bug spray from her bag, spraying it into the air and the acerbic scent of eucalyptus fills the night.
“What a wimp.” Tanisha pulls her long coat tighter around her shoulders. “Bugs aren’t gonna hurt you.”
“Such a drama queen,” Viola says derisively, then catches my eye. “Sloane! Glad you made it.”
Saxton leans down and his breath moves my hair. “I’m gonna get a beer. You want?”
I shrug. “Why not.”
Saxton goes to an ice chest loaded with beer and ice.
“Are you all right, Sloane?” Viola shrugs long, dark hair over her shoulder. “I saw you talking to Hayden earlier.”
I wave her off. “Talking? Ha!”
The firelight flickers over Viola’s gaunt features. “Okayyy. I’m sensing trouble in paradise again.”
“You got that right.” I take a deep breath and release it in the chilly breeze, pulling my jacket closer to my goosebump-y skin.
“I’ll tell you one thing,” Zach says, the moonlight reflecting on his spiky midnight hair. “My brother’s moodier than a chick with PMS.”
“So true, dude.” Raymond takes a swig of his beer. He has such a baby face that he looks odd holding the bottle. His dark waves dance across his forehead in the wind and he’s wearing a red and black striped scarf over a dress shirt and corduroy jacket. “Does Hayden ever smile? Or cut loose?”
Zach shrugs. “I think he likes being Mr. Stoic.”
“He has issues with his family.” I stare directly at Zach. “You know, like major, deep-rooted fam-drama.”
Zach holds my stare for a moment, but doesn’t comment. Maybe because he knows it’s true.
“Whose dumb idea was it to party in the woods?” I ask.
“Um, I think it was Max Phelps,” Raymond says.
“Figures,” I say with a heavy eye roll. “Hel-lo! Does this remind anyone of a doomed trio of film students hiking into the woods rumored to be haunted by a witch? Or a group of unlucky camp counselors at Crystal Lake? Every horrorphila knows that teens are the preferred victim of psycho killers everywhere.”
Kaitlyn lifts her beer with a devious grin. “To psycho killers!”
Everyone raises their drinks and toasts with her. Not me.
“You guys are hopeless,” I mumble. “None of you will survive.”
They all laugh, and Raymond throws a handful of pretzels at me from a bowl of munchies resting next to his chair.
“Then why are you here?” Emma asks. “If we’re the dumbass victims?”
I smile and shake my head. “Someone’s gotta survive for the sequel.”
Zach lets a loud burp rip, then takes another gulp of his beer. Raymond laughs, and places his hands over the fire, rubbing them together, and then holding them out again.
Viola wrinkles her nose. “Very attractive, Zach.”
“Thanks, babe,” he replies with a chuckle. “You want another beer?”
“No, and you need to slow down,” Viola says, her tone stern.
Zach glances at his…girlfriend. Human girlfriend. He gives her a soft, sweet smile that crinkles his eyes. “Sorry, bae.” Then he removes his index finger from the beer bottle and points it at Raymond. “Dude. Get me a beer.”
Ray grunts and goes to fetch Zach more liquor.
Emma stumbles over to me with a flask in her hand. “I want to apologize if I’ve been bitchy in the past.” She tugs me away from the others. “I can be a bit competitive, and I was initially crushing hard on Hayden, so I think I’ve been taking it out on you. That’s just not right. So we good?”
“Uh...sure,” I say tentatively.
“Awesomesauce! Because I want us to be friends,” Emma says, her tone sincere. “Ever discover who your blackmailer is?”
I nod and glare in Tanisha’s direction. “Yup, and she’s on probation.”
Emma removes her iPhone from the pocket of her coat and holds the phone up with one hand, while hugging me with the other. “Selfie time!”
I stiffly smile and lean my head against her massive curls. The flash goes off, blinding me with dancing white dots.
Kaitlyn checks the tiny screen over Emma’s shoulder. “Add it to your Instagram.”
Can this night get any more bizarre?
Raymond returns with a beer, handing it to Zach, and retaking his seat. I move closer to Viola and away from Emma.
Viola squints at me. “Wow, so you’re the new Heather.”
I grin at her reference to the cult film Heathers. “Nah, I’m still more of a Veronica.”
Walking up behind me with a beer in each hand is Saxton. He offers me one of the bottles before reaching out a hand to smack palms with Zach, Raymond, and the other guys in a drunken high-five.
�
��Who’s ready to party?” Saxton asks, then guzzles his beer.
I take a sip, wrinkling my nose at the bitter taste. Saxton snakes out an arm and wraps it around my waist, pulling me into his side. Startled, my hand shakes, causing the beer to foam like a mini-volcano and erupt over the sides of the bottle. I shake out my wet hand and twist out of his grasp.
“Do you know where you’re going to college?” Saxton asks.
I shake my head and take another drink. “Somewhere down South. You?”
“So you’re not planning on following Hayden to Harvard?” When Saxton says the word Hayden, it sounds as if it gives him a sour taste in his mouth. “Or whatever brainy school he gets into?”
“No. Why would I?” I chew on my inner cheek and stare at the fire. “We’re not officially together anymore.”
“That’s a good thing. You don’t want to get tangled up with his kind.” Saxton swigs the last of his beer in one gulp, then he turns on his heel to grab another cold beverage.
Surprise siphons the blood from my face. Did he just say his kind? Maybe I heard him wrong.
Saxton returns and hands me a fresh beer. “This is one the best dates I’ve ever been on,” he slurs.
“Why did you think this is a date when I clearly stated as friends only?”
He smirks. “Because we’re obviously attracted to each other.”
“I am attracted to hot fudge, but I don’t feel the urge to date it.”
While another guy approaches Saxton to chat about a football video game, I move over to my friends.
“Are you and Saxton a thing now?” Viola says flatly, taking a sip of her beer.
I frown. “Huh?”
“You and Saxton.” Tanisha’s brown eyes gleam. “Interesting choice to replace Hayden.”
“Puh-lease,” I say. “No one’s getting replaced.”
Max Phelps whips out an iPod, turns on some music, and a few kids bob their heads to the bass-heavy tune.
Viola shrugs. “I thought maybe you guys were starting to like each other.”
My stomach clenches tight and the beer sours in my mouth. “How many times do I have to tell people that I don’t like Saxton?”