“Yes, Coach,” the class says in unison.
“All right. I want to see who’s in shape. Run laps till you think you’ve ran enough.” She blows her whistle.
Keely smiles. This is exactly what she was hoping for. She paces herself, moving fast enough to get her heart pounding, but not so fast that she’ll be winded in a few minutes. Her form is perfect. Her feet hit the floor just right. Heel, toe. Her back is straight. Her knees bent. Her pony tail swings back and forth across her back from shoulder blade to shoulder blade.
She is still smiling as Nick, who had been in front of her, slowly falls back until he is pacing her. “You look better,” he says without actually looking at her.
The smile turns into a tight lipped line. “I am.” She pumps her legs faster attempting to move away from him. He keeps up. His hands fisted, moving back and forth at his chest.
“That’s good.” He gazes at her as they run. She secretly hopes he trips since he thinks he is the only person who doesn’t need to watch where he’s going.
“So, you have a fear of spiders?” He smiles, apparently finding this funny. Keely is annoyed, though she isn’t sure why.
“No.” She speeds up again. So does Nick. She slows dramatically, hoping to be rid of him. He slows as well.
“You could have fooled me. If you’re not afraid of spiders, then why did you throw your book in History?” He’s smirking at her now.
“You know, I have never understood that saying. Obviously I did fool you.”
“Not really. I am curious why you put on the show though.”
Keely slows more. She is looking at him intently. Something is off about him. Foreign. She doesn’t know if it’s good or bad. Like with Bryon, she knew something was not completely normal with him, but it turned out o.k. With Nick, she just isn’t sure. “Why?”
“Why?”
Keely nods.
“I find it intriguing that a girl who doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything would pretend as if she were in front of the entire class. Seems like there’d be a pretty fascinating reason.” He stares at her as if he is on to something. As if he already knows what she isn’t saying.
“Why do you think?”
He’s quiet. She glances at him. His eyes are still on her. “I think you’re a very interesting person.”
She nods. “Because I throw books.”
“Because you have secrets.”
Keely slows again. She is nearly walking. “Not secrets. Just none of your business,” she snaps.
Nick raises his eyebrows. “No offense, but you’re in better shape than I would have thought.” He tilts his head towards the bleachers. Over half the class is there panting heavily.
“Why? Because I’m an emo freak? Because freaks like me are lazy druggies?” She glares venomously at him. That’s it. She knows she doesn’t like him.
Nick shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”
“You know how last year you were a preppy jock? Well, before I came to this school, I was a preppy cheerleader. Not everybody are how they seem.” Keely pushes herself forward, running faster. She ignores Nick as he comes up beside her. He doesn’t say anything, quietly jogging with her.
Coach has to stop Nick and Keely. They’re the only ones still running. She pats them on the backs and sends everyone to change. Before they split off, Nick taps Keely’s arm roughly. “You’re right. Not everyone is how they seem. Maybe you shouldn’t be so judgmental.”
Keely turns on him riding on a burst of anger. “You wouldn’t say that to me if you had even the slightest idea what I’ve been through, you self righteous asshole!” She whirls around and starts heading for the locker room. Nick moves in front of the door just as she reaches for the handle.
“All I meant is that you, of all people, shouldn’t jump to conclusions. I didn’t mean anything negative about what I said. I was actually complementing you. I’m sorry if I upset you.”
Keely is exasperated. “How was that a complement? You even said no offense which means you expected me to be offended.”
“I just meant…” He shakes his head. “Never mind. You’ve already made up your mind, right? You’ve decided I’m an asshole. So that’s it. No matter what I say or do, it doesn’t really matter because you’ve labeled me unsafe. Just like you do with every guy.” He shakes his head again and stalks off.
Keely is trembling. Her hands fisted at her sides, nails digging into her palms. How could he possibly know that? Nobody knows that about her except for Dr. Evans.
Feeling a panic attack coming on, Keely rips the door open and runs inside the locker room. A girl gives her a dirty look as she nearly slams into her. She makes her way to her locker and changes. Pulls her hair from the band. Takes several deep breaths and begins to feel normal again. If she wasn’t so distracted, she may have found it curious that she ran longer than the rest of her class. Or that, even though she ran longer, she hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Keely pushes her gym clothes into the tiny locker and heads to lunch. She finds Bryon lounging at their table from last year, sitting backwards in his chair. Dana is talking excitedly and he seems to be ignoring her. Beside him, his friends Dustin and Lila are laughing over a notebook.
Dustin looks up as Keely approaches. “Hey Keely. You are looking especially beautiful today.”
Bryon turns around. Looks at Keely with a giant question mark over his head. She smiles reassuringly before patting Dustin’s head. “Oh, Dusty. What do you want?”
“I’m hurt. How can you possibly think that I want something?”
“Hmm. Because I know you.”
“I wanna carpool to Pandora Friday. But you are beautiful.” He smiles, his cheeks pushing his thick black glasses up. The idea of riding alone with two guys makes her throat close up. She thinks of what Nick said just minutes ago. Her fear turns into anger.
“Sure. No problem.”
Dustin smiles again. “Thanks Keel.” Lila leans over and kisses his cheek. Her long, blond and pink streaked hair draping around them. Reminds Keely once again what a cute couple they make even though they seem so different. Dustin is all dark dork, and Lila is sparkly sleek. The punk and the pixie. Somehow it works.
Dana whistles and Keely follows her gaze. Nick is strolling across the cafeteria in their direction. “I asked him to sit with us. I hope that’s o.k.,” Dana says eying Keely’s scowl. Keely drops herself into the chair at the end of the table by Bryon.
“You don’t have to ask my permission. You can sit with whomever you like, Dana.” Dana smiles uncomfortably.
Keely can’t help but fume. Nick Wallace wanted nothing to do with any of them last year. Now he changes his clothes and wants to jump into her very small circle of friends. And friends is pushing it. She has only hung out with them in groups because they are Bryon’s friends. Bryon’s the only one who ever calls or texts her. But this is hardly the point. The point is… Well, there is a point. She just can’t seem to think of it right now. She can’t think because Nick is getting closer. Why can’t he just leave her alone?
“Hey, lighten up. You know that saying, if looks could kill?” Bryon nudges her arm. “I think somebody should be chalking an outline around Nick right now.”
Keely sighs.
“Seriously. Did he kill your cat or something?” Lila asks jokingly.
“Yeah, why don’t you like him?” Dustin adds.
Keely sits forward resting her arms on the table. “It’s not that I don’t like him. I just—I don’t know.” She turns to Bryon as Nick approaches the table. “I’m getting something to eat. You coming?”
Bryon nods and follows her toward the line. “What’s on the menu for today?” He grabs a tray. “I cannot even begin to explain how much I missed unidentifiable meat. I mean, I feel like I’m living dangerously.” He fakes a shiver.
Keely laughs. “That’s why I stick with the salad bar. I don’t eat anything here that may have once walked.”
“No way. It�
�s just not the same if my lunch didn’t once have a face.” He takes a paper plate that is filled with greasy brown clumps. He lifts it to his nose and sniffs. “Mmm. Exhibit A.” He slides his tray down the line. “Ooh, and exhibit B,” he says and grabs another plate. This time the clumps are a color somewhere between green and gray. Greey.
“Gross.” Keely crinkles her nose.
“Now see, that right there makes it worth it.” He flashes one of his heart fluttering smiles.
“What? To sicken me?” She takes a bowl of mixed fruit.
“No. That cute scrunchy nose thing you do.”
Keely looks away, suddenly very interested in salad. “Oh.”
“Calm down Kiem. You know I like you too much to hit on you. That does not mean I can’t admire you.”
“Yes, I think that’s exactly what it means. Besides, this friendship works precisely because you don’t flirt with me. Don’t mess it up.” She’s smiling, but they both know she’s serious. Their eyes lock momentarily.
Bryon nods, understanding. “True story.”
Four:
Keely has always thought study hall was pointless. Nobody actually studies. They should get rid of the desks and fill the room with cots, because study hall is a teenager’s nap time. She pushes her back pack under a desk and sits. Pulls her bag to her so that it’s in between her feet and crosses her arms in front of her on the desk. Rests her forehead against them. The bell sounds. There is the sound of scuffling feet as kids hurry to find a seat. Papers shuffling. Chairs shifting. Hushed whispers. Silence.
Keely hears only the sound of her deep steady breaths. Forgets she’s sitting at a desk as she turns to her side. The bed is comfortable. The sheets smell as if they have just been washed. They are the softest she’s ever felt. She inhales, filling her senses with the luxuriousness of her surroundings. Snuggles the blanket to her. The room is warm in a way that is perfect for sleeping. She lay like that for a long time before opening her eyes. It’s dark. A thin strip of light shows from under the door. A door that isn’t hers. She sits up gazing around the room. She’s in a large four post bed with a canopy. There’s a design of a blossoming tree woven into the heavy quilt. The bed is made from a thick dark wood Keely has never seen before. She stretches her fingers out. Caresses the smoothness of the wooden post. She can just make out the swirls in the grain. The stand next to the bed is made from the same wood. Upon it sits an antique pink hurricane lamp. There is a matching dresser and vanity.
Keely tugs the blanket away from her and slides her legs from the bed. Her feet meet a plush carpet, sink in pleasantly. A long open back nightgown slips down her legs, tickles her ankles. It’s a snowy white and made of silk. She would never wear something like this. Her usual pajamas consist of flannel bottoms and a tank top. Maybe a hoodie if it’s cold.
She moves across the floor. Stops at the vanity. Runs a hand across the silver handled brush. There is a matching mirror that looks very old. She continues on to the door. It’s thick, a detailed design engraved into the frame. Keely is taken aback by the artistic beauty. Everything in this room is elegant and alluring. She reaches for the dark handle. Hesitates for only a second. Turns the knob. The door creaks as old doors do. Keely holds her breath and is blinded by the brightness of white light. She blinks several times. Sees spots before her as if someone took her picture with the flash on. She blinks several more times. Something moves beyond the green circles blocking her vision. She turns her head, but the rings follow. She takes a step back. Blinks again. Her vision begins to clear. Someone stands before her. Squinting, she can see it’s a man. She takes another step back. Hits something hard, solid. Whirls around. There was a door. Now there is only wall. A brightly colored mural of a wall. She has no time to admire it. She pivots on her heel in an about face.
The man is moving. Coming slowly toward her. She puts her hands up, palms out. “Stop.” Her voice is not as strong as she hoped it would be. However, it’s enough to stop the man. She uses one hand to shield her eyes. It’s like he’s standing in front of the headlights of a car. She can’t distinguish his features. “Who are you? Where am I?”
“There are no words in the human language to name me.” His voice is the absolute most enchanting sound she has ever heard. It leaves her feeling satisfied in a disconcerting way.
“I don’t understand. Everyone has a name.” She clears her throat nervously. He laughs. It’s enticing. Keely almost wants to move closer. Almost.
“I am named, but it is not in words. It’s much like your name, Keely, means beautiful.”
His voice rings in the air between them. She shivers at the magnificence of the pure sound. Her heart pounds fiercely. There’s a whisper in her memory. My Keely. My beautiful.
“My name means so much…more. I hope someday it is vocable. I would much enjoy hearing it spoken from your lips.”
Tears spill from Keely’s eyes. She is trembling uncontrollably. Her teeth even chatter, though she is not cold. She is frozen by her fear. Nick’s voice taunts her. I find it intriguing that a girl who doesn’t seem to be afraid of anything…
She is scared of everything.
She is terrified of the man in front of her.
“You must learn not to fear me, Keely. I will give you whatever you want. I will be whoever you want. My Keely. My child.”
My Keely. My beautiful.
“Stay away from me. I want to leave. I want to go home.” She feels the panic taking over. She can’t seem to get enough air.
“This is your home, Keely.” He takes a step. Keely listens for the distinct sound of his footsteps. She hears nothing. His movements are silent.
“Please, don’t come any closer. I just want to go. Please.”
“Why put off the inevitable my dear?” He is close enough to touch her. He smells sweet. Like mint and flowers. He extends his arm.
Keely turns her face away. “Let me go.” Her voice is demanding. “That’s what I want. You said you’d give me whatever I wanted. Let me go home. Now.”
His hand strokes her cheek, feather light. His skin is smooth, soft, and icy cold. “Of course.” He moves his lips close to her ear. Even his breath is frigid as it blows against her hair. “Understand that I can bring you back here anytime I wish.” His hand moves over her hair, pushes it off her shoulder. Slides down her arm. “I will not be kept waiting.”
Keely squeezes her eyes until they hurt. The only sound is of her breathing. Deep and steady. She opens her eyes to darkness. Jumps, startled. Blurry eyes focus on a class room. She peers around, confused. A room full of sleeping students. All but one. Nick Wallace glances in her direction. Looks surprised to see her looking back at him. Features morph to ones of concern. Keely looks away. She doesn’t want his concern. Must he be in all of her classes? Now that she thinks of it, he was in pretty much all of her classes last year too. She doesn’t recall him stalking her though. Maybe she just wasn’t as aware of him as she is now. The only reason she noticed him at all was because Farah made fun of him. Farah. Ugh. Her stomach churns at the thought of her. At the recollection of what she said. Maybe said. Maybe that was a dream too.
Keely pulls a notebook and pencil from her back pack. Begins sketching the room in her dream from her angle on the bed. With each smooth stroke of her pencil, the stress of the day melts away. Each flick of her wrist holds the fear at bay. Her hand moves effortlessly with such speed it blurs. Most of her etching is slightly out of focus and heavily shadowed because that’s how she remembers it. She sharpens her pencil fiercely. Tears another page, pencils the profile of the man. Shadows in his face, smudges it with her finger tip. Rips out another sheet of paper. Draws the room from another perspective. She’s careful to include the detail of the bedding. Her hand works savagely. Something pushing her forward. An undeniable urge to get the images from her head to the paper. She yanks out another piece of paper. Sharpens her pencil again. Etches the door. The door that led to the man. The man that frightens her. She concentrates.
She doesn’t want to muddle the elaborate design that had been carved into the dark wooden frame. She could never have dreamt that detail.
The bell rings. Keely is tired of bells. The school day is almost over. Only a couple more bells until she can go home. She grips the sketches in her hand as she heads to the door. Drops them over the trash. Watches them float slowly down. She moves into the hallway and nearly walks into Bryon.
“Hey. Where you at last period?”
Keely can’t remember for a moment. For a moment, her head is full of the beautiful room. “Art,” she says quietly. She clears her throat. “Art,” she says again. This time she is excited. She remembers her love for art. Smiles.
“I’m in the opposite direction. I’ll talk to you later. Wait for me after though.”
“I’ll meet you by the front doors.”
“O.k. See ya later.”
Keely waves. She is gliding, moving quickly down the hallway. Feels happy for the first time today.
She finds an empty table in the back of the art room and takes a seat. Before she can drop her bag, the chair across from her grinds across the floor. She looks up to a set of dark eyes. Deep brown eyes. The same eyes from earlier. Eyes so dark, it’s difficult to distinguish the pupil from the iris. Unable to look away, Keely is mesmerized with the frightening beauty. The closer she looks, the more she sees. The halo of brown that is the color of coffee grounds. The thick black lashes framing the eyes. The crease in the surrounding barely sun-kissed skin.
Dark Calling Page 3