by Ainsley Shay
Moments later, a huge cup was placed in front of me. “Isn’t this great?” Snow asked. “Look at this mug. I told you they’d be bigger than our heads.”
I laughed and said, “Ya did good.” It felt good to laugh with my best friend. It had been a long time.
A guy’s voice filled the speakers. “I’d like to read you a poem I wrote the other day.”
I turned toward the stage, and there, sitting on the stool with one foot hiked up on the bottom rung and the other leg kicked out, was Chandler. He removed a piece of paper from his front pocket and unfolded it.
“Okay, is he not the hottest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on? Well, besides my creative writing teacher, Mr. Pene, but he’s a teacher, which means he’s unattainable. But he,” she pointed to Chandler, “is very attainable, and I would love to attain that.”
I hardly noticed Snow drooling all over her froth as I stared at Chandler with complete bewilderment. “I guess he’s okay,” I managed. He was hot, but my encounter with him a couple of days ago had been more than odd. His score from one to ten had been a three before he brought me my replacement coffee. Then, it may have only jumped up the scales a couple of points.
“Just okay? Do you have your contacts in?”
I looked at Snow like she was crazy. “You know I don’t wear contacts.”
“Yeah, well maybe you need to start.” Snow’s eyes were glued to the stage. “When was the last time you saw someone who is that hot around here?”
I knew she wasn’t expecting an answer so I stayed silent as I thought of Blacwin. Instead of going there, I said, “He just seems like he knows he’s good-looking.” I stirred my cappuccino, while trying to ignore the fact he was here at all.
“And why shouldn’t he? He is! Iris, look at him—he’s gorgeous! Oh my God, he’s looking at us. It’s like he wrote whatever is on that piece of paper just for us.” My eyeballs did a summersault. “Don’t roll your eyes; he’s looking right at us. Would you just look?”
I looked up and met Chandler’s gaze. Clouds of what only could be described as provocation rolled over his features, and he grinned. Agghh… He was so frustrating.
He cleared his throat, leaned into the microphone on the stand, and read the piece of paper in his hand.
“Through the death of winter, it is still
Stripped of life
Naked and unwavering
Claws wrapped around its own heart
Luminous black wings open
It takes to the night
Fusing with the murder
Screams echo a sick melody
A murder created from death.”
His voice was melodic and mesmerizing. I saw Chandler in my memory, walking away from me, fading and disappearing into the rain. I remembered his kindness, bringing me coffee, and how vulnerable he looked, and how attractive he was in that moment.
“How hot is he?” Snow asked again, completely entranced by the mysterious new guy in town.
“Good poem,” I said and took a sip of cappuccino as I avoided the question at hand.
“I have no idea what it meant, but I loved it,” she said.
Chandler stepped off the stage and the crowd applauded, a few stood up, mostly girls. He started in our direction. I felt Snow’s knee nudge mine under the table. I thought about what I would say to him. But my efforts were wasted. Chandler walked right passed us and went to the bar. I wasn’t sure if I was grateful or insulted. But above all of that, I was dumbstruck—what the hell was wrong with him? Cocky on our first encounter, thoughtful on our second, and now he completely ignored me. I was sure he had recognized me. At least, I thought he did. The lighting was dark, but not that dark. At least he could have said hi. Maybe he hadn’t recognized me. But I didn’t believe that for a second. I wasn’t sure why I had even cared. But I had.
Snow was still jabbering something about wanting a picture of him. I wanted to tell her what a jerk he was, but I refrained.
“Iris, I want to know him. I need to know him! He’s hot and romantic. What more could a girl want?”
“I bet he’s got issues.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Just a hunch.” I shrugged, lifted the huge, steaming cup, and took another sip. Froth tickled my lips, and I ran my tongue across their glossed surface. I set the mug back on the saucer and looked around the coffeehouse. Chandler was talking with the barista. “I’m going to the bathroom. I’ll be back in a few.”
“I’ll go when you get back,” Snow said.
I got up and walked toward the hallway with a sign above that read Coffee Cemetery. It was cute, in a bizarre sort of way.
Posters and flyers of poets and musicians lined the hallway. The bathroom was more of the same. I washed my hands and studied my face in the mirror. I looked tired and worn out. I adjusted my sheer ruffled shirt and fixed the hem of my jeans.
On my way back down the hall, Chandler came out of nowhere and blocked my path. “Hi,” he said with a smile that would have made Snow lose consciousness.
“Hi,” I said, letting attitude drip from the word. I crossed my arms over my chest.
“I didn’t know you come here.”
“I haven’t before tonight.” At that second, all I wanted to do was drag Snow out of this place by her hair for making me come here.
“Can I buy you another coffee?” He leaned against the wall. His confidence and snarky attitude were nauseating.
“No, thank you.” I stepped around him and walked back toward the table.
“Iris,” he called after me. I stopped but didn’t turn around. “Sweet dreams.” His breathy voice was so soft and near. It was if he was standing right behind me, his warm breath on my ear.
I spun around. He was gone like he had never been there.
7
I practically ran back to the table. Those two little words shook me to my core. I haven’t told anyone about the dreams. It had to be a coincidence. That was the only explanation possible. But either way it didn’t matter, I had to get out of there.
“Let’s go.” I picked up my bag, took out some money, and threw it on the table.
“Wh—? You’re joking, right?” Snow looked at me like I had lost my mind.
“No, I’m not. I don’t feel good, and I just want to go home.” I willed Snow to move as I bounced from one foot to the other, but she wasn’t getting up.
“Okay. I get it. I know you’ve had a rough week, but you owe me big.” She took a giant swallow of her cappuccino, froth coated her upper lip; she wiped it away with the back of her hand while giving me the look of death. Grabbing her purse, she headed for the door with me trailing behind her.
With the exit in sight, I already felt my anxiety simmering down. Someone grabbed my arm as I edged my way past the crowd at the bar. I jerked to a stop. “What the—? Get your hand—” I turned to see my captor. “Oh, Cole. I thought you were… someone else.” Relief flooded through me when I realized it wasn’t Chandler. Cole and I had become friends on the first day he moved to town in the sixth grade. “Leaving so soon?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m not feeling so good.” I wanted nothing more than fresh air and to be as far away from Chandler as I could.
“Okay. Feel better,” he said.
“Yeah, thanks.” The door to freedom was only a short distance away. I reached it and pushed it open. The cool air hit me. It was thin and saturated with Snow’s vengeance. Her hip was cocked with her hand resting on it. Her face was polished with a very pissed-off look on it. Here we go.
“How am I ever going to know anything about him?”
“Him—who?”
“The hot guy who read the poem.”
“Chandler?” His name slipped out and reached Snow’s ears before I realized what I said. I wanted to reach out, grab it from the space between us, and stuff it back into my mouth.
“You know him, and you didn’t say anything the whole time we sat there.” Snow walked away from me and proceeded down
the sidewalk toward the car.
“Snow, wait.” I ran after her. “You don’t understand. It’s not like—”
She stopped and turned on me. “You’re right. I don’t understand. Why didn’t you tell me that you knew him?”
“He came into the bookstore the other day.” I decided not to mention the coffee he brought me, or the look in his eyes when he stared at me. I also didn’t mentioned the more recent event near the bathroom. “It’s not like I know him. Actually, all I know is his name.”
“So that’s it? His name?”
“Yeah, that’s it, his name?”
Snow calmed a bit.
“The jerk didn’t even buy a book.” We both laughed. Thank God. It was a good sign that I was clearing myself out of the trench I had dug.
“He doesn’t look like a Chandler,” Snow said.
“Not at all. More like a Tristan or Ethan.”
She bit her lip considering my suggestions. “You’re right.” She took a couple steps toward me. “Whatever his name is, next time, will you please introduce us?”
“You got it,” I said, hoping there wouldn’t be a next time, and meant it this time. She was satisfied with that, but I knew I owed her.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what,” I asked.
“It was selfish of me to drag you out tonight. I should be giving you more time. It’s just I want you to find your happy again.”
“I know.” I hugged her. All was right again. At least for a little while.
The air was cold and damp on our way to the Boot’s Pizza. A warped eerie feeling had me wrapping my jacket tighter around me.
“Tell me this isn’t the night for hot guys?” Snow said.
“What?” I looked around to see who or what had caused the creepiness to chill my bones.
“Look, over there.” I looked in the direction she was pointing to.
“Who’s that?”
She looped her arm through mine. “That, my dear, is Mr. Pene. Isn’t he the hottest teacher you have ever seen?”
He was across the street standing outside a dress shop and laughing with a tall, beautiful woman with long dark hair.
“Teacher?”
“Yep. He started teaching creative writing about three weeks ago.”
“So, I’m guessing you’re now the ultimate creative writing student even though for the entire lifetime that I’ve known you, you’ve hated anything to do with writing.”
“You know me so well,” she said and gave me a kissy face.
I looked back over my shoulder. Mr. Pene’s eyes met mine and ghostly shivers racked through me. A practiced smile slithered across his lips. His smile looked familiar, but I couldn’t place it. How could you place a smile anyway? That didn’t make sense. But, I suddenly felt colder than I had a few minutes ago. It was the same feeling I had when I left the bookshop on Wednesday. “Come on, let’s go. I’m starving.” I tugged Snow’s arm that was looped through mine, to get her moving in a direction that was away from him.
We stepped into Boot’s and sat by the window. I felt like I was on display to everyone passing by but it was the only table available. The heat from the ovens helped to melt away most of the eeriness. We ordered our usual, a large pizza with pepperoni, onions, and meatballs.
The waitress came back a few minutes later with our sodas.
Snow took a sip and asked, “Are you a lesbian?” Without giving me a chance to answer, she continued. “You know it’s cool with me if you are. I mean, I know you and Justin had your way with each other, but it’s like you don’t even notice guys anymore.”
I shook my head and laughed. “No.” Thoughts of Blacwin immediately filled my head and my laugh turned into a smile that I couldn’t help. And God, I really wanted to help it. I still wasn’t ready to tell Snow about Blacwin.
“What?” she asked.
I shrugged, and the smile on my lips grew. “I might have a date tomorrow night.”
Snow perked up and leaned in. “With who, Justin? Is he coming into town?”
I shook my head. “No, you know Justin broke up with me right before...”
“I know but I thought maybe he made things right.” She looked so hopeful and I was about to crush it.
“He called a couple days ago but I let it go to voicemail and then I erased it.”
“You didn’t even listen to it? Why not?”
“As much as I had going on with school, and then, my dad—” I almost started to lose it but caught myself before the tears came. “I don’t want to get hurt again.” I found myself not thinking about Justin at all. I suddenly wanted to tell her everything about Blacwin: his voice, the way he combed his fingers through his hair, his perfect body, the way he smelled, how polite he was. But, I couldn’t bring myself to do it. “Besides, it’s not actually a date. He’s new here, and he wants me to give him a tour of our fine town.”
“Some date that’s gonna be. You’ll be done in about eight minutes. Oh, wait!” She held up her finger as if the perfect idea has just blossomed. “If you take him by crazy deBlays’ house, you’ll add on about two minutes.”
I took a sip of my soda, just to have something to do with my mouth so I could buy some time to think of what to say that wouldn’t make Blacwin sound like a freak. “Interesting you say that.”
“What? That’s a good idea. Just do a drive by. It’s not like you’re going to be able to get too close, anyway.”
“I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
“Necessary? I’m not trying to be practical. I’m trying to make your date last longer than it takes to microwave a bag of popcorn.”
“What I mean is we don’t need to go there because that’s where he’s staying.”
Her hand froze halfway to her mouth. “You’re joking?”
The waitress arrived with our pizza. I thought, no hoped, Snow and her gargantuan appetite would let the subject drop, but I was wrong.
“Okay, as your best friend I have certain rights. And, the right to forbid you to go out with a freak is one of them.”
I pulled a steaming piece of pizza from the pie and set it on her plate. Then, I did the same for me. “He’s not a freak,” I said not really knowing if he was or not. Hell, I didn’t know if he was serial killer or a florist. But, something had sparked inside of me when he was near. “He seemed perfectly normal.”
“Anyone who chooses to stay with that witchy statue woman is not normal.” She took a bite of pizza and eyed me over a wedge of meatball. “You’re not listening to a word I’m saying—are you?”
“I’m listening—”
“No you’re not. I can see your silvery eyes already getting dreamy about the guy.” She took another bite. “Take the creepy guy around town, just don’t show him where you’re staying.”
I hadn’t argued about the eye comment. She may have been right. “I won’t.”
“I guess I lost that one.” She finished her piece and pulled another from the pie. “What if you take him to the Gardens?”
“That might be a good idea.”
“Yeah well, I like my first idea of you ditching him altogether. But, since that’s not going to happen… Anyway, where’d you meet him?”
Snow did her best to look out for me and I loved her for it. But sometimes she played the role of my mother more than my friend. “He came into the bookshop.”
“That’s it!”
“What’s it?”
“I’m going to ask Mr. Yves for a job because apparently that’s where all the guys are hanging out these days.”
I had just taken a sip of soda and had barely kept it from spraying all over Snow when I laughed. “I’m thinking it’s a fluke. Besides, you hate to read.”
“I like reading, just not books. And, I’ll have you know that I recently read an article in Cosmo that said geeky guys are the most magnificent at doing the dirty.”
I shook my head. “You seriously need help,” I said around a bite of pizza.
&nbs
p; “What? You know Cosmo doesn’t lie.” She set the crust on her plate and reached for a third piece.
“How come you’re not a bazillion pounds?”
“Don’t start giving me a complex. Besides, who could refuse? It’s so freaking good.” She took another mouthful.
After Snow had eaten her fourth piece, she sat back and rubbed her belly.
“You’d better not throw up in my car.”
“Relax, I won’t.”
“Let’s get the rest to go,” I said.
“Good idea. Get it out of my sight.” She pushed the pie away from her.
When we left the restaurant and walked back to the car, I looked at where we saw Mr. Pene. He was gone.
I turned onto Chesapeake, toward Snow’s house. Only the headlights of cars lighted the woods on either side of the road. We passed a few oncoming cars, but the road was otherwise quiet and very dark. A thin layer of fog covered the road, making it difficult to see.
I glanced at Snow. “Snow, you don’t look so good. Are you going to be sick?”
“I don’t think so, but I shouldn’t have eaten that last—”
“Oh, my God!” I jerked the wheel to miss the streak that darted in front of the car. The car slammed into the guardrail, and the loud screeching noise of metal against metal shattered the quiet night. I jerked the wheel back and eased onto the side of the road. The streak was gone, but my nerve endings were shredded. My heart was beating a hundred times a second and my hands were glued to the steering wheel. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” I repeated as I tried to recover. I looked at Snow. She wasn’t moving. “Are you all right?” I asked her.
No answer. No movement. I shook her and yelled, “Snow!”
She slowly lifted her head. “What the hell was that deer thinking?” she asked.
That statement made me laugh—a high, nervous laugh, but still a laugh. “I’m not sure it was. We’re kind of in his territory, you know?”
“Yeah, whatever,” she said and rubbed her head.
“I’m going to look at the damage. Be back in a sec.” I opened the door. A car whizzed by and scared the hell out of me. I walked around to the front passenger side and cringed when I saw the damage. An approaching car slowed, and I held my hand over my eyes to block out the headlights. They stopped behind my car. The door opened, and the interior light illuminated a man. Mr. Pene. I looked at the passenger seat expecting to see the beautiful dark-haired woman, but there was only him.