Midnight Ruling

by E. M. MacCallum

  I wanted to run into him earlier, I realized, and thought of his warm mouth. The memory snapped shut when I thought of Damien. Wow, I thought, a dry spell for over a year and next thing I know, I’m surrounded. The thought was sarcastic, but at the same time I was secretly giddy. I wasn’t a complete cast off. I admit, I’d started to wonder. School took up a lot of my time, but even classmates avoided me. It seemed the only people I could be close to were from my small circle of friends.

  Maybe I belonged in the asylum with Nell. Seemed safer there. I kicked myself for that thought.

  Keeping my head down but eyes up, I wove through the stream of bodies around lunch time. It wasn’t the usual crowded battle because of finals, but that only amplified the whispers that trailed behind me to my locker.

  I opened my locker and lost my breath. The interior was trashed. Books were torn and scattered in disarray. My backpack was emptied and all the notes ripped free. Paper slid into my ankles the moment the door opened.

  Gaping at the mess, my mind reeled.

  The whispers began behind me, and it launched me into action.

  The culprits might be watching. The panic to fix things overrode what may have been a tear/snot-fest any other day.

  I dropped to my haunches, gathering up the papers as fast as I could, even the ones ripped in half. I could organize it later. I had to get out of this place now.

  Warm fingers wrapped around my bicep, and for a fleeting second—and I hate to sound dramatic—I thought of the decaying men in the swamp. With a hiss, I jumped, almost falling onto my butt. If it weren’t for the hand to steady me, I may have.

  Releasing me the moment he’d balanced me, the man who’d grabbed my arm said, “Whoa, sorry.”

  Looking back, still holding onto the metal locker, I glowered up at him.

  He was a vaguely familiar blonde guy. He raised hands in a truce and flashed a disarmingly charming smile…with dimples. He was tanned and had a square head and small, deep green eyes that I almost thought were brown. He was really handsome. Not like Read Wallace though. He made Read look “pretty”.

  I blinked at last.

  He nodded to my locker; the disarming smile remained. “Sorry,” he said again, not sounding entirely apologetic. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What happened?”

  We were the only ones in the hallway, strangely. I could have sworn I’d heard people a second earlier.

  “Pranks?” I offered and started to gather up the papers again. If I ignored the cute guy, maybe he’d walk away.

  A few seconds later, a stack of papers tapped me on the shoulder. When I peeked back, I saw it was blondie, still smiling and holding my notes.

  “Thanks,” I muttered.

  “No problem. Name’s Cooper, by the way. Cooper Mesick.”

  “Nora Fuller.”

  He offered a hand to shake and, mid-shake, helped me to my feet.

  Thanking him again, I saw the smile slip as Cooper looked at the contents of the locker. One of the sides was dented, easily visible in the light. It hadn’t been before today. “Stupid assholes, eh? You’d think we were back in high school again.”

  I appreciated his outrage because it mirrored mine, but I didn’t want to get into it with him. “Lucky you came along,” I said and looked away, my cheeks burning. Wow, it sounded like I was flirting with him.

  Cooper’s white-teeth and dimples returned. “I have a knack for that.”

  Reaching into my locker, I grabbed my backpack to pull it free when something caught my eye. Without thinking, I plucked it from embedded papers beneath the bag.

  It was a doll, but it wasn’t just any doll. It was wooden, and the body was in the shape of an upside down teardrop. The bottom was flattened as a stand. Egyptian hieroglyphics covered the white body.

  But it was the painted face that tightened the muscles in my shoulders and stomach. It had full lips, a sweet smile with hooded, bright green eyes. The shoulder-length chestnut hair had been painted with golden streaks. The features were unmistakably that of Robin Thurston.

  My chest convulsed for air, but I still couldn’t breathe.

  It was too late. Cooper had leaned over my shoulder and had seen it the same time I did.

  I started to shove the doll back into my locker, but he grabbed my shoulder to stop me.

  “What is going on here?” Cooper demanded.

  “Like you said.” I finally took a breath. I was glad he couldn’t see my expression. “It’s a prank, must be. Just a sick prank.”

  “Here.” Cooper reached forward for the doll.

  I twitched away, the reaction pure reflex. “No,” I snapped.

  He eyed me. “You want to keep it?”

  It couldn’t be a prank; I wasn’t going to delude myself into believing that. “Yes.”

  Cooper blinked back the surprise. “Someone’s making fun of…”

  “Or it’s a sympathy doll.” I choked out the terrible excuse, tasting bile.

  Cooper’s green eyes assessed me for several seconds, but before he could say anything else, voices nearby alarmed us both. Neither of us had heard them coming until they were only a few feet away.

  Hugging the doll tight, I turned toward the open locker so they wouldn’t see.

  My friends’ faces had been plastered all over the newspapers and Have You Seen? signs. I doubted this doll would go unrecognized.

  Cooper shifted closer to me, blocking their view, and I forced back the instinct to push him away. Plus, he smelled like subtle cologne and spices.

  The group of students fell silent when they caught our intense stares over our shoulders. One of the girls appeared annoyed as she glanced between Cooper and me, while another cast a pitying glance as they passed. The rest thankfully averted their eyes.

  Once they were far enough down the hallway, Cooper eased away from me. His cologne was still making me heady as I stuffed the doll into my backpack.

  Turning, I realized Cooper hadn’t left. He smiled at me after the locker closed, producing those clever dimples again. “Where you headed? I can walk you there. People don’t usually mess with me.”

  I frowned. “I’m fine, just want to find my friend.”

  “Aidan?” he asked cheerfully.

  He may have smelled like heaven, but I was tempted to flail limbs to see where I’d punch.

  “I know where he is,” Cooper offered before I could debate my options.

  “Where?” I asked, hoping he’d just tell me.

  “Guess I’ll be useful after all.”

  Nope, he wasn’t going to tell me.

  I motioned for him to lead. “Thanks,” I muttered, staring at my feet again. “For the help back there too,” I added after a significant pause.

  Cooper shrugged. “So, did you say you and Aidan Birket were just friends?”

  Blinking, I tilted my chin up to see Cooper watching me. I narrowed my eyes and didn’t reply. He looked away, reddening those high cheekbones. Something told me he wasn’t used to that reaction. He squared his shoulders and didn’t glance at me again, his face turning from friendly to stony. I must have bruised an ego.

  Cooper led me straight to the cafeteria, the exact place I planned on checking first.

  As I stepped into the room, I saw our usual table occupied by some rugged-looking guys who’d be able to toss me around like a beach ball. The gorgeous, shapely girls who typically hung out with those guys were also in attendance.

  The worst part was that they crowded around a familiar roan-haired person I knew.

  Their heads leaned in as they listened to Aidan. I felt a twinge of betrayal. It was deep enough to make me want to bolt. What was he telling them? We weren’t going to talk about our experience—real or made-up—with anyone. Aidan said it would lead to holes in the story and it was best to keep quiet.

  Then what else could have captured their attention? I felt my nails bite into my palm.

  Cooper draped an arm around my rising shoulders and pointed to the table as if I ha
dn’t already seen. Annoyed, I started to shrug to remove his arm. Instead, his palm cupped my shoulder blade and guided me toward the table. Eyes wide, I felt my insides churn the moment Aidan’s piercing eyes shot up and saw me. They flickered to Cooper, and I saw his speech pause. This provoked the others to turn, and I went statue still.

  Cooper dropped his arm when a girl moved and motioned me to sit next to Aidan. Cooper didn’t sit, not that he could have. The table was stuffed with extra chairs and occupants.

  Dropping into the chair, relieved I wouldn’t have to stand and fidget, I recognized a few of them. There was Claire Weatherbe; she had been a cheerleader at my old high school and a friend of Robin’s. Ethan something, he was from a few of my classes; and then there was Heather, the hot girl who’d spoken to Read about baseball.

  Heaving a sigh, Claire exaggerated rolling her eyes to look back to Aidan. “So?”

  “Well, that is all there is to it,” Aidan said, his gaze locking with everyone except me.

  Claire leaned back in her chair, clearly disappointed, then she looked to me. “Why don’t you tell us what happened, Nora?”

  I looked around the table and twisted the bottom of my shirt.

  Raising her expertly painted eyebrows, Claire waited for me to speak. The tension just from the small table seemed to fill the entire cafeteria like ink in water.

  I glanced at Aidan, and he shrugged at me.

  Great help, buddy. Great help.

  I cleared my throat. “We passed out.”

  The whole table must have been leaning in, waiting for the epiphany, because they all flopped back with a simultaneous groan.

  One of Cooper’s football buddies laughed, his voice so deep it rumbled. “Hah, hah, hah. Yeah, and he expects us to believe that too.” He was a muscular guy, shorter than Cooper but broader with a buzz cut. He looked like he spent the majority of his days in the tanning bed and the gym.

  I felt the flames igniting, dashing away the nervousness. I was sure Aidan only repeated the same story we told the police. “What do you believe?” I challenged.

  Without missing a beat, he said, “I think that you two are full of shit.” His eyes were cocky, intending to intimidate.

  Ethan, the guy from my class, grinned, and I realized the mob was siding with Muscles.

  Claire snickered first and flipped her shiny auburn hair. Hazel eyes sparkled as she looked me over with the same condescension as her friend.

  I shared a glance with Aidan, who looked calm compared to the mosh pit in my stomach.

  “It’s too easy of a story, if you ask me,” Muscles sneered.

  “It’s a good thing I didn’t ask,” I grumbled. “We have to go.”

  Aidan nodded and started to push his chair back, but someone behind us hip checked it back in.

  I looked back at the low-browed guy with tattoos up his neck. He crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes at me as if to dare me.

  “Do you agree with Joel, Cooper?” Claire asked and bounced in her seat to catch Cooper’s attention behind me. Miss Claire wasn’t wearing a bra.

  I glared at Muscles, or rather Joel, and his pretentious smirk. “I think that you should all fu…”

  Aidan grabbed my arm, and before the guy could shove his chair again, he rolled out of it and was on his feet. The quick movement would have been lithe if it weren’t for the slight stumble from his bum leg.

  The conversation went cold the moment Aidan stood.

  Despite being twice his size, Neck-Tattoo stepped back when meeting one of Aidan’s glacial stares.

  “You wanted to know what happened,” Aidan said, his voice carrying despite being low. “I told you what I know. You think this is easy for us? You think we don’t wonder every day what happened to our friends? To us?” He motioned to his leg and hobbled to shift his weight.

  It wasn’t as bad as he was playing it out to be, but the added theatrics worked. Claire wouldn’t make eye contact with us. Neither would Ethan nor many others.

  Joel glowered, muscles twitching in his shoulders. “I still don’t believe you.”

  “That’s your problem, not mine,” Aidan said. To me, he whispered, “Come on.”

  “That’s right,” Joel chided. “Run away. But people will find out about you two. Everyone will find out what kind of people you really are.”

  As Aidan and I walked out of the cafeteria together, those words echoed in my mind.

  Everyone will find out what kind of people you really are.

  I couldn’t quite put my finger on the answer to that question myself.

  “I need to talk to you,” I whispered when we were out in the hallway.

  “Not here,” Aidan replied.

  I glanced behind us and saw a few students following us, but none were from the table. “Why?”

  “I don’t trust anyone here. Listen.” Aidan held the door open for me. “Go home and look for the book. Then we’ll meet tomorrow. Call me in the morning. I have a family thing tonight. I have to keep them thinking everything’s okay, but keep your phone on you all night.”

  “Why?”

  Aidan shielded his face as we stepped into the sunlight. “Just in case.”

  I didn’t like how he said it. “You know something I don’t?” I asked.

  He started to give me a reassuring smile when a body stepped so close that it startled us both. It was Claire Weatherbe. She smiled, full lips as glossy as her hair in the sunlight. Then she was stepping, practically skipping, into the parking lot, short skirt swinging dangerously high.

  Aidan’s teeth were grit when he grumbled, “Off to take news to the hive.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “We’ll talk later.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Later that evening, I could hear Mona watching TV in the living room. I called Aidan’s apartment, hoping he’d be home, but the answering machine clicked in. His cell had the same result, but I left a quick message on it that sounded desperate, like: “It’s me. Something weird is going on. Call me back, ‘kay?”

  When I came home, I looked up elfelejt and came up with references to the Hungarian language. Before I could find a translator online, our internet connection cut off. Mom had called the company several times to hear the same answer: they were working on it.

  I thought about visiting the library, but Mom was so against it that it sparked an argument. Eventually, I stormed off to take a shower, leaving her with a screaming baby and Mona, who’d suctioned to every doorframe to watch.

  Already cozy in my pajama shorts and top, I made my way to my bedroom. The bed was still unmade, and I knew Mom would have a fit if she saw that. Despite the fact that I was still angry with her, I did a quick job of trying to make it look fixed. I didn’t need more grief.

  As I turned, something flickered in my mirror.

  Looking up with a start, I saw my own frazzled reflection. In an attempt to assuage my appearance, I brushed out the wet tangles. I should have been studying, but my brain was fried.

  Downstairs, I heard Dad come home after dark. Mom’s voice rang about being late. Considering I left her in a foul mood, it was somewhat expected.

  Feeling the gravity that often came with their arguments, I realized I didn’t want to listen tonight.

  I glared at my closed door as the arguing couple drew closer up the stairs. Dad was quiet. The only reason I knew he was there was because my mother’s argument was gaining momentum.

  Mona turned up the volume on the TV downstairs. She hated these fights about as much as I did. Caitlin didn’t utter a peep, which was surprising.

  As they passed my room, I heard my mother gasping, “Is it another woman? Is that perfume? If you think that you can abandon this family after…”

  Another woman?

  I wasn’t sure why I hadn’t considered it in the past. If someone else’s dad was late every night, I would have thought it was an affair right away, but this was my dad. Glancing at the door, I gritted my teeth so tight it hurt. Today was not
a good day, and for some reason, hearing the accusation sent a streak of fury up my vibrating nerves. I wasn’t mad at anyone in particular; I was just pissed.

  I flung my hairbrush at my bedroom door. Every hardened emotion carried it, as if the violent throw could pull the anger away. For an instant, I felt damn good, until I noticed the dent in the fake wood.

  The noise stifled the argument outside. Only the TV laughter downstairs could be heard before long, heavy footsteps thudded toward my room. The door burst open as if by a hurricane.

  Dad’s face scrunched in a way that instinctively frightened me. “What in the name of Christ is going on in here?” he demanded.

  Mom, suddenly meek, peeked under his arm, worry and guilt lining her face.

  “I need to talk to you.” My dispassionate voice was so steady and soft it made me uncomfortable. Dad’s scowl softened, just a fraction.

  He hesitated in my doorway and didn’t look back at my mom for back up or support. I don’t think she would be able to take this conversation, the one I’d been putting off since the asylum. Though I was charged with emotion, I waited, staying as still as I could.

  After stepping inside the bedroom, Dad closed the door behind him. My dad was a handsome man for his age. He had a prominent nose and cleft chin that sometimes made him appear angry. He was rarely angry, happy, joking, or sad, but he was always serious. He was still in his business suit; his peppered brown hair was neat, but his eyes were tired. Scars from his life were bright and visible in those eyes.

  Dad and I hadn’t been alone together for a long time. The last time was when he had to drive me to school earlier in the semester when Mom was out of town and I’d missed the bus. It was strange to feel disconnected with my dad. He’d never been abusive, mean, or heartless to me, but all the same, I never saw him anymore. This man wasn’t the same one I’d known as a kid.

  “What about?” he asked curtly, looking awkward. He towered over me, though he towered over everyone in the household.

  Paranoid of being overheard, I motioned for him to sit on the bed away from the door so I could face him from the vanity. He glanced at the bed and hesitated.

  “I won’t keep you long,” I assured him, resisting the urge to roll my eyes. When he did come home, he liked to either sit in front of the TV or do some of his work on his laptop—alone. The man was a machine when it came to work.