The Complete Set

by Ainsley Shay

  My cell phone rang on the table, breaking through the bizarre silence that had settled between us. I glanced at the display: Blacwin.

  Chandler didn’t flinch or move a muscle. I looked up in time to see his eyes move from my phone to me. “You’re not going to answer that classic by The Cure?”

  Curiosity had me dancing in my jeans. But, just as quickly, Blacwin’s gorgeous face was replaced by his words that were still wedged deep in the crevices of my brain—She might have lived here once—I pressed the decline button.

  My thoughts shifted and I found myself taken aback that Chandler knew my favorite band. “You know The Cure?”

  “Who doesn’t?” he answered. “Robert Smith. Seriously, there’re no words for the man.”

  For the first time, Chandler actually brought a genuine, bright, full-on big smile to my face. Also for the first time, Chandler was attractive, not only in that cocky, irritating way, but also as a person who might have had feelings. For a brief second I thought I might have judged him all wrong.

  “Blacwin. Interesting name.” His right eyebrow raised just a smidgen, but I saw it. It was as if he had never been so interested in anything else as he was in who was calling me.

  My phone dinged, and when I looked at the screen again, I saw that Blacwin had left a message. I reached for the phone.

  “You look eager to find out what Blacwin had to say. Go ahead.” Chandler gestured toward the phone. “I don’t mind.”

  Instead of picking up the phone, I picked up my coffee and took a sip as something to do other than acknowledge his observation. The cold coffee slid down my throat, leaving the sweet aftertaste of vanilla on my tongue. As I ignored his comment, the word nightmares returned to my thoughts, and I wanted to ask him why he kept drilling me with the nightmare thing.

  “Blacwin is an interesting name,” he said again.

  “Speaking of names, you don’t look like a Chandler.”

  “Actually, my full name is Chandler Aamon.”

  “Well, that just got more interesting.”

  He shrugged. “It was the name given to me. They tell me it was the name of a fallen angel who could tell the past and future.”

  “Your parents must be very interesting.”

  “I never knew my parents.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal. Then he asked, “How come you looked so frustrated when I came in?”

  “It’s nothing. Just school stuff. An assignment for creative writing.”

  “And?”

  “What?”

  “What’s the assignment?”

  “We have to write a thousand words about a dream—” I lowered my voice—“or nightmare we’ve had recently.”

  “So, that should be easy. Right?”

  I swore I could hear that word, nightmare, rattling under my skin. I couldn’t resist the urge to know any longer. “Why do you keep bringing up nightmares with me?”

  “I want you to trust me.”

  Two minutes later, Chandler was out the café door. His last words before leaving were, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” I didn’t try to decipher what that meant. The whole conversation had been nothing but riddles. This guy comes out of nowhere less than a week ago, and now he wanted me to be his best friend and trust him. Why?

  14

  As soon as Snow slid into the passenger seat, I tossed her a small paper bag. She opened it, and the scent of blueberry muffin filled the car. “I can’t,” she said, handing me back the bag. “I went to Big Sombrero’s yesterday and totally gorged. Tacos have been all I could think about since you told me you had them on your date.” She turned in her seat and pointed at me. “Which, by the way, was the most unromantic screwed-up date I had ever heard of. Tacos in the maze—seriously? What were you thinking? You know, I was just kidding about the whole maze thing.”

  “It’s not like it was planned.”

  “No wonder he didn’t kiss you.” Snow had yet to let this conversation drop since I told her about going out with Blacwin. “Maybe he really did only want a tour.” She shrugged.

  “Thanks, that makes me feel great.” I didn’t tell her his reason for moving here. I would absolutely never hear the end of how I should never go out with him again or even talk to him. I also didn’t tell her about his message. Hi, Iris, it’s Blacwin. I’m sorry I haven’t called since Sunday, but I’d like to see you again. Call me when you get a chance. I hadn’t decided whether or not I wanted to see him again, so it was better to keep these small nuggets of info to myself.

  “So, now that we’ve gotten that out of the way for the hundredth time,” I said, “I’m guessing the tacos were good.”

  “More like, to die for, and I couldn’t help myself.” She rested her hands on her flat tummy. How she didn’t weigh a bazillion pounds was a mystery.

  “Why do you do that to yourself?” I asked with an uncontrollable laugh.

  “Because it tastes so good, and my mouth tells me, ‘Put more in,’ and my stomach is like, ‘Noooooo more.’ I can imagine its arms waving off the food with each bite I take.”

  “You need to learn some self-control.”

  “Yeah, well, you need to learn to say no to weird guys who want to eat tacos with statues.”

  I pulled into school and parked next to a familiar shiny new sports car. “Someone must have had a great birthday,” Snow said. “Probably Tara.” She was the mayor’s daughter and usually got everything she wanted.

  It wasn’t Tara. I’ve been in that car before. It took all my willpower to control all the things I wanted to scream and yell right then. We got out of the car and the owner of the shiny car got out, too. It seemed like everyone in the parking lot was staring at the mystery driver. In his usual cocky stance, Chandler stood with one arm on the hood on his car and the other he ran through his short light hair. My stomach tightened. I closed the car door and started to walk away before realizing my bag was still in the car. Ugh! Opening the car door, I jerked my bag off the back seat and started over again. I looked at Snow. Her jaw was resting on the roof of my car.

  “Excuse me,” I said. Nothing. “Hello?” Nothing. “Ahem, Snow.” Nothing. Ugh!

  “Iris!”

  I turned around, and there was Chandler no more than five feet away. “I’m sorry, I was talking to my friend,” I said, plastering a smile on my face.

  “I’m not your friend?” he asked with a pouty expression on his face. His tone was his usual seductive one that made my insides all twisty for reasons I had not yet figured out. “I thought we established that yesterday at the café.”

  From the corner of my eye, I watched as Snow’s gaze left Chandler and darted in my direction. I knew her blood pressure was rising. I ignored her for now, knowing I’d have to deal with her later. “What are you doing here?” I asked Chandler, as I tried to pull my bag strap higher up on my shoulder, even though it was already at its peak.

  “I told you yesterday I would see you tomorrow.” He offered up his trademarks: a knowing grin and a lazy shrug. “And, today just so happens to be tomorrow.”

  “I get that part. But what are you doing here?”

  “My days were getting kind of boring, so the idea of school sounded intriguing.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me yesterday?”

  “I wanted it to be a surprise.”

  Some surprise, I thought. It was more like a shock to my already fragile world.

  “I love surprises,” Snow said eagerly.

  Chandler gave her a million watt smile. “Go to know. Do you think you can show me to my class?” he asked.

  “My pleasure. I’m Morgan, by the way, Iris’s best friend.” Her beaming face said, Let’s get together now and get to know each other later. “And you are?”

  “Chandler,” he said as he looked away from me to her.

  Snow looped her arm through his and tugged him onward. “You know, we saw you perform at Hence last week. Your poetry is really
good.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you need to get your schedule?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  Nauseated, I went on ahead of them. I glanced behind me to see Snow courting Chandler to the office. There was a lot she and I had in common, and there was a lot that we didn’t. Chandler was definitely on the “not in-common” list. I could tell by the way Snow looped her arm through his. She was not about to let him get away now that she had him in her vice. It was his turn to get a dose of what he was always dishing out to me.

  When I reached the classroom, there were several students gathered around Mr. Pene like he was a rock star. The bell rang and the crowd at the front of the room dispersed and went to their seats. Snow came in a few seconds later.

  Mr. Pene walked to the podium. “Good morning, class. I hope everyone was able to complete the assignment. I’m looking forward to getting inside your heads when you’re sleeping.” The girls giggled, and some even blushed as if the man just said pants instead of heads. I seriously wanted to vomit.

  “All right. What do you say we read a few in class?” The class obediently took out their assignment and hands flew into the air, begging to be chosen.

  “Hmm, aren’t I a lucky man?” said Mr. Pene, smiling in delight at his disciples.

  His eyes found mine, and coils of heat spiraled up my neck and around my throat. I knew what was coming, and there wasn’t enough time to shove my paper back into my bag and say my cat puked on it. “Miss Thorn, how about we start with you?” he suggested, but it was obvious it was a demand. The words were silk—soft and beautiful, but strong enough to bind their prey. He took a few steps toward me, guiding each person’s attention in my direction. Before he reached me, I passed my paper to Snow, who sat in front of me. She handed it to Mr. Pene. He looked at my dream in his hand as if it were a living, breathing creature he wanted to stroke and soothe. It took everything I had not to run out of the room.

  He returned to the front of the class and looked at me one last time before lowering his eyes to my paper. “‘Creature,’ by Iris Thorn.” Everyone in the room looked as though they’d been hypnotized, and I could tell by the look on his face that he loved every second of it. “By the sound of the title, I would guess you suffer from nightmares, Miss Thorn.”

  By saying nothing, I silently confirmed his assumption. The rest of the room dissolved from my peripheral vision and it was only he and I as he began to read: “A dirt path I had never seen before appeared in front of me...”

  Frozen and mortified, I looked around the room. Everyone was hanging on to his every word, awaiting the next like starving mutts desperate for their meal. I tuned him out as he continued to read, and I prayed that no one would remember any of it, or me.

  Tidbits of my dream filtered through to me and I heard the mostly made-up story in another person’s voice, it actually didn’t sound too bad.

  He continued in his resonant storytelling voice: “As the path wove through the forest, it narrowed into a thin line. In the distance, it disappeared completely from sight. Stepping onto the path, I felt the rubble under my shoes and the unevenness of the dirt. Compelled by an unexplained force, I began to walk down the path, wanting, with every cell of my being, to know where it led. The need to know was wrapped so tightly with desire, that I had no choice but follow it, no matter where it took me.”

  Violation began to overwhelm me as he continued to read my words. I wanted to cover my ears, but I didn’t, my words continued to float around me in his mesmerizing voice.

  “It was like the path was a piece of thread and had been lengthened and laid perfectly over the floor of the forest. Above me, birds that were not birds flew over my head. Beside me, insects with the heads of dolls and the bodies of snakes slithered along the path, guiding me toward my destination.

  “When the path abruptly ended, I was standing at the edge of a moat. A raised drawbridge was on the other side. Of its own accord, the drawbridge began to lower as if it were a mouth. Its heavy chains grew taut as it lowered the final few inches. The purpose of the drawbridge was a complete mystery. As I looked around, the only thing the bridge kept unwanted guests away from was the field on the other side of the moat. It was an infinite field of tiny flowers with long thin stems. I stepped onto the bridge and stood at its center.

  “A light breeze lifted my hair and I felt the warmth of it caress my bare skin. When I looked across the bridge to the thousands of flowers, my head swayed with bewilderment. As if they were made of glass, the flowers stood motionless and lifeless as the wind swept around them.

  “Darkness caught the corner of my eye. The moat became alive with slinking dark creatures grinding and twisting around each other like snakes; spikes as sharp as knives lined their backs. Their massive bodies caused the water to churn. One of the creatures rose out of the water. Though it was without eyes, I knew it somehow sensed me, knowing and feeling my presence. I dared not move as I watched the streams of water seep through the tight spaces between the spines on its back. I stood there staring back at the creature, as still as the glass flowers.”

  Mr. Pene slowly raised his head and looked directly at me, pinning me with his eyes as if I were an insect splayed out and trapped under a piece of glass. I crossed my arms over my chest to lessen the chills radiating from my core. It didn’t help. Only seconds had passed, but each one felt as if they were ripped apart into a million infinite lifetimes. His glare intensified as he whispered a single word.

  The class murmured, asking Mr. Pene to repeat the word, but he didn’t have to. The isolated word was meant for me alone, and I heard it perfectly.

  Skelside.

  15

  The bell on the door sounded more like tolling than the usual jingles when I stormed into Yves Antique Pages.

  “Iris, dear, what’s the matter? It looks as if you’ve had one hell of a day,” said Mr. Yves.

  “Understatement,” I growled, as I made my way behind the counter.

  Mr. Yves stacked the few books he held onto a pile of others on one of the side tables. “Well then, I’ll give you a few minutes to get settled before I tell you that you have a visitor.”

  Visitor? It had to be my new BFF, Chandler. I glanced over Mr. Yves’s shoulder and saw the few customers scattered throughout the store. I didn’t see Chandler, but in the far corner by my desk, I saw familiar dark hair. A swift smile appeared and disappeared when our eyes met. As I watched Blacwin walk toward me, I momentarily forgot about my dreams, Skelside, and Mr. Pene.

  He was scruffier than when I saw him on Sunday, but the tough, rugged look accompanied by his soft dark eyes and full mouth suited him well. Very well. His dark, long-sleeved, fitted T-shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, exposed lean muscles underneath. I noticed the thin line of a necklace running along his collarbone and I wondered what meaningful charm rested at the hollow of his throat. I caught a glimpse of the long rigid muscle that ran up the length of his forearm as he combed long strands of hair away from his face.

  God, of all moments in my life, I wished I had time to look in the mirror: possibly fix my hair, touch up my makeup, and pop a breath mint in my mouth. But there was no time, as he closed the distance between us.

  “I hope you don’t mind that I took a chance to come by to see you.” His eyes shifted from mine to something that caught his attention on the wall behind me. Or, it might have been a reason to look away from me.

  Either way, I didn’t care, as I watched his gorgeous face ease into bashfulness. Even the comment about why he moved here dissolved, and I unconsciously shook my head. “I don’t mind.” Tiny knots began to twist in my stomach. The kind of knots that could unravel at any second and make you blurt out stupid things, and jabber in run-on sentences that made no sense.

  “Good. I thought that when I didn’t hear from you...”

  Guilt suddenly overwhelmed me. “I meant to call you back, but—”

  “Don’t.” The sharpness of the word set me back a litt
le, and I watched the features of his face shift again. I found myself staring at a guy who had a definite reason to be here. “Listen, when you get off, why don’t I come pick you up, and we can go somewhere and talk, get a bite to eat, or coffee...”

  The emotion in his tone and the seriousness of his words sent me reeling into another oblivion. As he continued, I felt my stomach summersault into a back flip and possibly land on its feet. “Besides, you look like you could use some cheering up—or possibly you just need someone to vent to.”

  My day slammed back into me with full force, and I hurried to slap a quick smile on my face. “I’m fine.”

  “You don’t look fine,” he said.

  “Stop being so observant.”

  “It’s a special gift, and I just can’t help myself.” He shrugged, and the gesture was flawless, as was the smile on his lips.

  “Try,” I said, and to no avail, we both started laughing. It felt so freaking good that I didn’t want to stop.

  I did though, as soon as Mr. Yves’s voice boomed from the other side of the store, “He’s right, Iris. I’ve got everything covered here.”

  “Get your jacket,” Blacwin said. His tone was friendly, but fringed with expectancy, like he knew for sure I was going with him. I didn’t mind, because I wanted to, more than anything I had wanted in a very long time.

  Wordlessly, we left the store and walked across the street to the café. For unknown reasons, I felt sheltered and safe next to him. Something felt familiar, impossible I knew, but the feeling was there.

  He guided me to a table in the corner—my table. He pulled out my chair for me. “Coffee?” I nodded. “I’ll be back in a minute.” He went to the counter to place our order.

  When he returned, he said, “I’m guessing you come here a lot.”

  “Why?” I asked.

  “Because the barista knows exactly what you like: coffee, cream, two cubes of sugar, and a squirt of vanilla.” He paused, then said, “Cubes of sugar?” and chuckled. “Seems a little old-fashioned.”