The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon

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The Misadventures of Daria Pigwidgeon Page 17

by Amy Lunderman


  I would do anything to just be home in bed right now and all this behind me. I would even forget the boy that even though he glares at me and holds my hand a tad bit too forcefully, still makes me feel safer than I did less than twenty minutes ago.

  The knowledge that he very well just quite possibly saved my life isn't lost on me. Or on him for that matter because his hold loosens slightly. Our fingers intertwine. The sweat lightly coating my palms makes it easy for him to do this, but I don't really care. I'm just glad that he's not being so intrusive. I need him to be the warm and safe Chance. Not the one that is always running away from me and glaring. Any other night I'd be almost fine with his hot and cold act. Not now though. I just can't take it.

  Chance's soft whispering voice cuts the through space around me causing me to flinch.

  "Rabbit. Please. I'm really trying here. I need you to return the favor. Something is off tonight, I know that and I'm sorry, but just be honest with me. Don't make me say it."

  I feel my body begin to shake, but it's not from the cold. There are some things my ability can protect me from, but this isn't it. The truth hurts and this I know will be my undoing. Why can't I just be honest like he said? What am I afraid off? Well, that's a loaded question sure. But what is so terrible about coming clean about this one thing? Then, it hits me, the reason why I'm so bothered and terrified about what could happen. I've been trying so hard to be normal and fit in. This will without a doubt ruin that. Nothing can ever be same after this, but, in the face of honesty. Was it ever really normal to begin with?

  I've only been lying to myself. It's what I'm good at.

  No point stopping now I guess. I shake my head at Chance. If things will change after tonight, I won't be the one doing the changing. I'm not brave enough to take the leap with my secret, especially if that's not what he knows. My eyes open. He's staring at me again. I tell him with my eyes, that he'll have to be the one to do the talking. He's the one to sigh now, his shoulders hunch in on himself with the effort. Guilt radiates through me, but it gets overshadowed by fear and anticipation.

  Tensing, he looks back to the road. I can see it in the way his jaw clenches and relaxes in a quick repetitive motion that he is struggling with the words. In a way, it’s kind of comforting that I’m not the only one afraid of taking the leap. It doesn’t help the war going inside me though. Nothing could help with that. I’m terrified at what he’ll say, but also expectant with relief at the same time. Human emotions suck. My life would be simpler if I didn’t have them. Or maybe it would be worse?

  I notice the way his jaw finally relaxes completely before I hear his whisper. It takes half a moment for his soft words to reach me on the other side of the car. When they do, they slam into as if there wasn’t a wait at all.

  “I know what you are.”

  My breath comes in shallow pants. Sweat breaks out in a sheen across my skin. The hand still grasped in his shakes uncontrollably. And I’m more relieved than I have ever been. More than when I finally left California even. It’s a scary feeling, but oddly a safe one too, one that I have no problem latching onto like a life preserver. He finally looks to me then. His eyes are wide with anticipation and it takes me a moment to wonder why.

  Then I know.

  He never really said what I am. He’s was only speculating. My reaction just now proved what he was only guessing at. He’s better than I thought. Had me fooled. So the game is back then? Guessing what I am without really admitting. All right then. Let’s play.

  Coyly I say, “And what am I Chance?”

  Our eyes never leave each other’s gaze, but I still know he’s back to clenching his jaw. I should really try to remember to tell him to not do that so much. It could be bad for his teeth. But that’s not important. His eyes soften a bit, and I know he’s going to take my bait.

  “It’s okay to trust me. I only want to keep you safe.” He smiles then. “What you are is special rabbit. I’ve known it since the first day we met. There is something that is different in you, and it’s a gift.”

  I snort out a surprised laugh. There is something inside me, but I wouldn’t go so far as to call it special. And I’ve never really thought of it as a gift, more of a curse actually. Somehow I doubt the different thing he is referring to is my soul, but he’s not saying it’s my demon qualities either. So what does he mean?

  His bright smile should be a giveaway, but it’s been a long night. I’m a little slow on the uptake. He can’t be implying that my gift is from the other end of the spectrum is he? That is way off the grid. So far off you’d never be able to find your way back. I’m a lot of things but that isn’t it. I must be more exhausted that I thought, because the next thing out of my mouth is a little too blunt, even for me.

  “Clearly we’re not talking about the same thing Chance. I’m not what you think I am. Does the word demon mean anything to you?”

  His breath catches. The smile slips away. “Demon?”

  I nod.

  “That’s what I am. And you should know it’s not a gift.” Panic rises in him, and I quickly reevaluate what I say next. “I mean I do have a soul though. So I’m not really like some of the others. In a way, I suppose I am special among my kind, but not in the way you think.”

  He makes a point of not looking at me now. No matter how calm he might appear, I have the feeling he’s freaking out a little bit on the inside. For good reason too. I’m beginning to regret getting in the car with him tonight. If he looks at me differently for this, it’ll kill something inside me. I need him with me on this. I think I always have, even if I didn’t realize it. So much for him already knowing and making this simple. That’s my life for you.

  My worst fears come true when Chance starts to talk to himself in a quiet little mumbling whisper.

  “This makes no sense. Why would-”

  I don’t get to find out what makes no sense to him. Because in the next instant something tickles at the very out reaches of the fog that surrounds me with my ability. I can feel the individual tendrils of the power as it leaks from me, keeping the something at bay. It hits me then that whatever was chasing me, never left. I wasn’t suddenly safe by getting inside the car with Chance. Whatever it was, simply waited in the distance, for what I don’t know. All I know is that Chance feels it too. It has to be the reason for his silence.

  Before I can question anything or become overly terrified that I’m about to be attacked again, I feel it. There is a snap at the end the tendrils flowing out of me. My body jerks forward and then falls back into the seat as I’m released. A weight gone from my chest I didn’t even realize was there. I feel lighter now. Almost bone tired really. I don’t even feel it as the breezy fog coasting me slips away without having to be told too. Just one moment it’s there like a second skin and then it’s gone.

  I thought I was tired before, but now, I can barely feel my body. It feels like I’ve just fought the battle of my life. And here I thought it was over. Goes to show you what I really know. Slowly I turn to face Chance. I open my eyes as I do, and oddly enough I don’t remember closing them. His are on me, wide as all get out. His face is so pale that I can see it in the darkness of the car. I want to ask him if he really felt any of that just now, but I can’t even make my lips move.

  “Daria…..what was-” He starts, but cuts off as he whips his head towards something in the road before us.

  He lets out a shout as he slams on the breaks. My body jerks forward again and I have to quickly reach out for the dashboard to avoid going through the windshield. I’m no longer tired. In fact, I am wide awake. And it’s all due to the fact that I’ve somehow been transplanted into the Twilight Zone. I’m officially freaked out, and this is coming from the demon girl.

  As if this night couldn’t get any weirder, it’s gets a whole heck of a lot worse. The empty street springs to life right before our eyes. One moment we were alone on the dark street, not paying attention to the road. In the next instant, it was as if we were just place
d in the middle of an active street. By active, I mean we’re right in the middle of an interception with cars on either side honking their horns at us.

  We’re going too fast to come to a complete stop, or maybe Chance realizes a little too late that stopping in the middle of oncoming traffic isn’t the best idea, because in the next instant we’re swerving to the left. And avoid getting hit by an oncoming SUV on our right. With the sound of screeching tires loud in my ears, I get slammed in the door. All my breath leaves me in a rush and before I get it back, we’re swerving to the right avoiding another car.

  As fast as we arrived in the intersection, we’re shooting through the thing and flying down the road before us. The sound of horns honking is left behind. All I hear now is our heaving breaths. Chance continues to drive for another minute (how, I have no idea, I would have stopped dead in traffic) before pulling over on the side of the road. Looking around, I don’t even think we’re close to home yet, which is a little unnerving. All this time spent in the car, we should have made it home by now.

  Twilight Zone indeed.

  We sit in silence both trying to control our breathing. My heart hammers inside me and my chest heaves along with it. Risking a glance at Chance, I notice he’s sitting perfectly ridged. His hands are gripping the steering wheel tight. His knuckles are white from the effort, enough to see it in the dark. He’s staring straight ahead, as if he’s afraid to be startled again, even though we’re in fact alone now.

  That’s when I hear him mumbling something. It takes a moment for my brain to catch up.

  “Whoa. Whoa. Shit. Shit. Whoa.”

  I whole heartily agree with that sentiment.

  Chapter Sixteen

  In the shortest ride back home (finally, I might add this has been the longest birthday ever and the worst too. Is it still my birthday? Wow.) Chance and I surmised it would probably be beneficial to finish our little discussion in a much safer environment. For instance, one that is not in the middle of a cloaked road. That’s my guess for what happened anyway. It’s not really that out there if you think about it. I mean here I am, a girl that can fog people’s minds to slip by them unnoticed. What’s to stop another of my kind to have that same kind of ability, but at a much greater level? Nothing, that’s what.

  It does make me wonder though. Especially about who or what attacked me. I felt fear before, but that was after the street I previously walked on was empty. So that could only mean, that whoever was out their tonight was already planning something. Clearly, it was even before I went to the motel. This doesn’t make me feel any better. Was their more than one? Should that make me feel worse? Either I have one jacked up demon after me or I have a whole mob of them out there.

  Neither theory makes me feel any better and with good reason. They both suck.

  The big question that I can’t quite shake though, is why? Why did whatever it was hide from me while I was in the car? Then to only make me feel it when it took off? I know part was intentional, like a threat. Whoever it was, wanted me to know they are out there. They could have easily slipped away without my notice, but they chose to give my power a push. That screams intentional to me.

  That, and the small fact that Chance and I were transplanted into the middle of an intersection I don’t remember entering. We must have been driving on a never ending straight road for miles. Or were we even driving at all? Maybe our minds were just cloaked and we were on pause or something. But then wouldn’t the people on the road have to be cloaked as well? How about the little coincidence that I had just come clean about having a soul when I felt the tickle on the other end of my power? Am I simply being paranoid with that?

  Ugh, I just can’t wrap my head around the how in that factor. Or maybe I simply don’t want to. It’s enough to send me over the deep end screaming the whole way. It does make me wonder if I’m capable of that kind of thing though. Not that I’d ever do it, but it is interesting. No doubt about that. Talk about the highway to hell, pun totally intended here. This whole night is like a bad dream, oh excuse me, the whole day has been.

  I really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now. I should be thinking about the boy that is currently trying to pace a hole into the carpet in front of my couch. He’s been doing this since we came in about twenty minutes ago whereas I went right to sitting down, bringing my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms tight around them. I can’t imagine what is going through his mind right now. It’s probably just as jumbled as mine, more so maybe. At least I have the advantage of mostly knowing about the threat.

  He doesn’t.

  Every time he restarts his repetition, and comes back towards me, I get a good at him. I’d like to say I’m not worried about how he’s taking all of this, but then I’d be lying. I can see the way his shoulders are hunched when he moves, the way his hands work themselves into knots over each other, and the way his too beautiful eyes crinkle a little at the corners and scrunch his nose just a bit. It’s enough to make me want to go to him and make him feel better. But I don’t. I stay put. Who knows what he’s thinking? I could make things worse if I ruin his mental tirade.

  I definitely don’t want that.

  Some time goes by and when I lose count of how many times he passes by me and back, I decide it’s best to break this silence we have.

  “So, um, are you convinced this is all just a bad dream yet?” I say a little too loudly, and then mentally smack myself.

  Chance jumps at my voice, and spins back around to face me from his position on the other side of the room. The way he looks at me with wide eyes, I think he might have forgotten where he was. I stay silently watching him, as if I don’t want to spook him any further, and I really don’t. His stance relaxes just a bit, as he takes in his surroundings before finally focusing on me. It takes him another moment to realize I said words and not just sounds, and another moment to let it register. Now he has me worried.

  “No.” He says in nothing more but a whisper then clears his throat and gives his head a shake before continuing. “I’ve had enough to know the difference.”

  I give him a funny look and clutch my legs closer to my chest. For some reason, the way he said that just now, makes me want to shiver. As it is, with him watching me so intently, I barely resist the urge. It doesn’t stop me from wondering about it though.

  Sounding more concerned than I planned, I ask “Bad dreams?”

  He nods enthusiastically, but stays quiet.

  His silence makes me quickly say, “About?”

  Now he looks like the worried one. And it hits me then. What if he wasn’t struggling to keep himself composed after everything I told him? What if this is about what he has to tell me? I don’t hold bad the shiver that passes over me this time.

  “Daria,” he clears this throat again before continuing (Something that is starting to make me extremely nervous) and says “They’ve been about you.”

  I can only stare at him stupefied, because I don’t know what’s worse. That he dreamed about me or the fact that he used my name? Regardless, you could seriously hear it if a pin were to drop in the room right now. But he doesn’t elaborate any further. That makes me restless. I suspiciously narrow my eyes at him. He does have the grace to appear embarrassed, bully for him. Still he doesn’t say anything more and at this point, I’m about ready to shout at him.

  “So, uh, you’ve been,” I start but have to clear my throat (it must be catching) before continuing “You’ve been dreaming about me?”

  He blushes and glances away. I watch as he raises his hands and racks them through his hair, causing it stand on end. His movements are pure embarrassment and I can feel my cheeks heat at the sight. That can only mean one thing. His dreams must be of the male preference variety. Yikes, I so did not want to know about that. What goes on in the mind of a boy in his sleep is his own business.

  I must make a sound of astonishment, because he turns back to me guiltily. His eyes scan over my blushing cheeks, and they go large in understandin
g. He goes right to shaking his head, and if possible, his own cheeks get even brighter. Leaving his position from across the room, he quickly makes his way towards the opposite end of the couch. Sitting down, it’s pretty obvious that he tries not to get within touching distance.

  This is fine with me; I don’t need any help in making my mind wander.

  When his eyes search out mine, I have to clutch my legs even tighter in my arms. Otherwise I’d be seriously running out the door. His voice snaps me out of my wandering mind.

  “I have. Been dreaming about you I mean. But it’s not the kind I’m sure your thinking of. Well, sometimes those might surface, but not like I’d want them to. It’s mostly the others recently.”

  Okay. So now he rambles when he’s nervous? That’s new.

  “I don’t understand.” I tell him.

  And I don’t, not really. My head feels full. He seems to notice this, because he sighs, then turns so that he is fully facing me.

  “Daria, I’ve been dreaming about you every night since you moved here.” A smirky smile slips through his lips, “It’s basically why I’ve been a dick to you. I thought I was losing my mind. It’s a relief to know I’m not.”

  It explains the dick-ness, because yes, he’s been that. But, his rambling is losing me. So I tell him so.

  “Wait. I don’t get it. You’ve been dreaming about me, in what way?”

  His forehead scrunches up as he thinks about this. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head as he forms what he wants to say. The moment he figures it out, it plays across his features like a realization.

  “This is where it gets confusing.” I resist rolling my eyes at him, but I do shrug (as if saying whatever, just get on with it already) “At first I didn’t think it meant anything, just that I thought you were hot. Which I still do, don’t get me wrong. Then they changed after a while, and I knew there was something else going on.”

 

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