The deep subtleties of voice sounded familiar. Even the way he spoke, like he was half-heartedly singing a melody, reminded me of tune long forgotten.
“Heterochromia,” he said. “Ocean-eyes.”
His hot breath hit my neck, making me relax. The pounding in my head became a distant memory. Sound waves no longer broke the laws of physics. My stomach eased. I only hoped the sweat dripping along my hairline wasn’t blatant. A rewarding groan rose from his chest when I finally took a deep breath. My lungs no longer felt like they were going to collapse.
“I’ve been looking for you, Deino.” He spoke the name so softly, I almost didn’t hear it. The deep vibrations of his voice soothed the buzz in my ears. It was as if his mere words could caress me from the inside out. It literally sounded too good to be true.
“You have the wrong girl.” I reassured him.
“I’ve heard that once or twice,” He chuckled. Much to my protest, the beginning of a smile grew on my face. “Glad you’re feeling better…”
“Winnie,” Bree piped up, giving out my name as she walked up behind me. She set my boots and Stella on the table. “Patterson,” she added to my mortification, breaking an implicit oath never to give away too much information to the opposite sex. I was especially annoyed since I’d planned on telling him my name was Patty – the name I gave out to all potential stalkers.
“It’s Gwyneth,” I corrected. If he was going to know who I was, I’d be damned if he address me by my nickname.
“Gwyneth Patterson, I hope you feel better soon,” he said, memorizing my name. “Need any help getting her home, Miss?”
I tried to keep from biting my lip. If a voice could be lickable, his was. Instead of answering, I busied myself by upgrading my shoes. Any foot-wear, even these ridiculous boots, had to be better than bowling shoes.
“Call me Bree, all my friends do!” Her voice rose with exhilaration. He had to be ludicrously good-looking – on an unfathomable level if Bree was going to flirt with a guy while Ryker was nearby – or at least within hearing distance. The table shook when she sat along the edge. I had to bite my tongue to stop from telling him her name was actually Breanne Jackson. Lacing up my boots, I kicked the shoes aside.
“I haven’t seen you around these parts. Are you new to town?” she asked a little too hopeful to sound casual.
“It seems that Fate brought me here,” he muttered. His words hung in the air like he’d sung. “My name’s Jace.”
“Well Jace, are you going to be attending McKesson High?” Bree asked. Not pausing for an answer, she said, “I’d be more than happy to show you around. I’d give you a heads up on what teachers are push-overs and the ones who are homework Nazis.”
“I’m checking out a few places that have open enrollment,” he said. “I usually don’t enroll in public schools.”
“Yeah, I pegged you for a private school kind of guy, but you should give McKesson a shot.”
Bree babbled on about how great of a school it was. I wanted to melt into the chair when she asked if there was a special gal who had the privilege of being called his girlfriend. Running out of the building with a wet-pee stain on the front of my pants would have been less mortifying than sitting awkwardly in my chair while Bree commented that I was without male companionship tonight.
“For years, I’ve been looking for a lady who meets Miss Patterson’s description,” Jace said shamelessly.
“Single?” Bree asked excitedly.
Jace hesitated to answer. Finally, he said that he was looking for someone who can take his breath away.
How was Bree not picking up on his over-used pick-up line?
I stood and was cautious not to touch Jace since my stomach wanted to jump out of my throat when he leaned close. My balance faltered as I pushed away from the table – and from him. When I got my bearings, I gestured for the exit door.
They both ignored me. I wanted to scream at Jace to dial down the cockiness and for Bree to play a little harder to get. I groaned and took a step toward the exit. My balance was still off so I grabbed Bree’s hand. She put her discussion about what qualities men look for in a lady to a pause, in order to assess me.
“I better get you home,” Bree said.
“Please,” I whispered.
She said her good-bye to Jace. I kept my head down. We walked toward the exit.
“A tease - I love it when a girl plays hard to get,” Jace shouted out.
I couldn’t shake the exhilaration that overcame me when I stole a glance back at him. His white silhouette blazed in the sea of dull, gray shadows. His friend moved closer to Jace the further we walked away. If I didn’t know better, he kept an allotted distance between us.
CHAPTER TWO
My hard earned “C” in art class, was compliments to the nine weeks dedicated to color schemes. I would’ve flunked out if it weren’t for ceramics. Mrs. Briggs insisted on my ability to describe primary colors, complete sketches, and paint like everyone else in the room. Since I was only “legally blind,” she demanded my participation in class. Tell me, please, how a blind person was supposed to do all that? Granted I saw depth, definition, and color in my visions. However, I wanted to keep up the façade that I was blind like every other vision-impaired person and not check into a loony bin because of my futuristic abilities.
Covered in dirty water and spatter, I molded the wet ball of clay. It was my second perfected attempt at creating a bowl. I’d make bowls all day if it upped my grade a notch.
“You make a mean bowl,” Ryker said.
When I didn’t acknowledge his presence he flicked a piece of clay at me. I wiped it away and kept working.
“I’ll give you five bucks if I can use your bowl for extra credit.”
A knock sounded from the classroom door, interrupting me from responding. I smelled his smoky, otherworldly scent before Jace walked into the room. My skin tingled. I wanted to slap myself for even reacting to him. High-pitched giggles echoed around the room when the girls got a good look at him. From where I was sitting, he left something to be desired – like my stomach not to be tied in knots.
“This is Jace Eatros, a transfer student. Please make him feel welcome,” Mrs. Briggs stated after reading a note he handed her.
Please don’t sit beside me. Please don’t sit beside me. Please don’t sit beside me.
I sat utterly still, praying that he couldn’t see me if I didn’t move – like a tyrannosaurus rex and his prey. He nodded at me. I shouldn’t have been surprised that a defensive mechanism rooted from the cretaceous period didn’t work. If I could just sink down in my chair far enough he might not notice me… After counting to ten I looked up, just in time to see his white silhouette closing the distance between us. Stop walking over here! Surely there was a vacant spot at another table, perhaps on the opposite side of the room?
“Is this seat taken?” Jace asked and then pulled out an empty chair out beside me.
At least the sound of him dragging the chair’s legs across the floor hadn’t made me want to rip my ears off this time. I groaned, making it clear I wasn’t about to throw out a welcome mat. What’s with this guy? Was he so brainless that he couldn’t tell I wasn’t interested in him? I tried to think of something witty to say so he’d get the picture to find a different seat that wasn’t close to me.
“Don’t mind Winnie,” Ryker eagerly said. “I’ve been working on her for years now. My best bet is that she’s missing the girlie parts that make women enjoyable to be around.”
“Shove it, Ryker!” I said, flicking my dirty fingers his direction. “Or I’ll mention your opinion of womankind to Bree.”
“Thanks for the advice,” Jace chuckled, and reached for the ball of clay I was kneading.
My skin burned when he reached for me. I dropped the clay before his hand grazed mine. A headache began to throb. I forced myself to relax when every muscle in my body wanted to clench tight. Why any part of me was attracted to him was unexplainable. I literally
became ill around him.
“You’re pale,” Jace said.
Oooh, his voice could end wars it was so enchanting.
“I’ve never felt better,” I lied.
He set my clay ball back down in front of me. After wiping his hands on a towel, he draped his arm across the back of my chair. An imaginary clasp seemed to tighten around my throat. I tried to remember how to breathe. My chest refused to let air into my lungs.
“You play ball?” Ryker asked.
“Prefer hand-to-hand combat,” Jace said casually.
As soon as he spoke, my lungs finally began to fill. I swallowed the lump in my throat. What was going on?! I glanced at Jace; I refused to believe anyone could trigger this kind of a reaction. Nevertheless, if I entertained the idea, the arrogant guy beside me would be the only person who could.
I wanted to push Jace’s hand off the chair; however, I had an unexplainable urge never to touch him. It was like some primitive instinct had taken over my body and refused to get anywhere near him but just as strongly, refused to move away. My arms and legs froze. It took an act of God to lean away. My anxiety peaked. I swallowed again and breathed through my nose, hoping no one had noticed my awkward, clipped movements.
“Like MMA?” Ryker asked in an octave lower than what he normally spoke. I wanted to say that it was pathetic that he developed a bro-mance, but I couldn’t unclench my jaw.
“Yeah, something like that,” Jace said.
My brain felt like it was going through a shredder when his finger trailed against the back of my shirt. My eardrum split, and a loud ringing from his finger running over the fabric in my shirt, drowned out everything else in the room. The harder he pressed against my back, the more my stomach twisted. My back spasmed. It took all of my self-control not to cry out when he flicked his finger across my neck. Just as quickly as I froze, my limbs obeyed me once again; I could move freely and seized the opportunity. Stumbling out of my seat, I mumbled that I needed a glass of water. Gravity shifted under my feet. I stumbled onto the floor. Maybe he stuck his leg out and tripped me; I wasn’t sure, but I knew Jace had done it somehow.
I glared up at him, only to gasp. For a moment the definition in his face formed. Most of his facial features were still muddy, except for two perfectly formed lips. He spoke in a foreign language – one that I’d never recalled hearing but was familiar all the same. However, that wasn’t what struck me dumb. His lips – his perfectly shaped, full lips – didn’t move when he spoke. I blinked, attempting to clear my vision. I had to be seeing things.
His voice blared in my mind the longer he spoke. The words I couldn’t understand seemed to echo an unrelenting ringing in my ears. I couldn’t look away from his white silhouette. I distantly heard Ryker talking, but whatever he said wasn’t nearly as important as what Jace was saying – even though I didn’t understand a single word.
“What do you want?” I whispered, unsure if I actually wanted to know. I focused on his lips and watched intensively.
“You,” he said crystal clear and then spoke in the language I didn’t understand. His voice tasted like syrup on my tongue, but his lips never moved.
Mrs. Brigg’s shoes clicked sharply against the tile as she walked towards me. A girl – Kayla, I believe – helped me back into my chair while everyone else gawked at me. The teacher demanded to know why I was laying on the floor.
“My vertigo is off. I believe I’m getting a migraine,” I said, trying to think of any logical reason why I suddenly got ill. I certainly wasn’t going to take the opportunity and point a finger at Jace. They’d assume I was crazy; I wasn’t so sure they’d be wrong. I tried to stand, but the world shifted under me again. It forced me back on my knees. I covered my mouth and hoped not to vomit.
“I’ll call the nurse and let her know you’re on your way. Kayla, can you escort Winnie?” Mrs. Briggs said.
“I’ll be fine by myself,” I said, irritated that I’d been assigned a babysitter, even if I wasn’t exactly top-notch shape.
My stomach instantly eased when Jace muttered another incomprehensible comment in the language I didn’t understand. The sound of his voice calmed me, which bothered me at the same time. Kayla released her grasp when I promised not to move without her. She left to grab her things when Jace piped up.
“Mrs. Briggs, I’m not feeling the greatest either – a little nausea. May I be excused as well?” Under his breath, Jace admitted that his nerves getting the best of him from being in a new school.
“I suppose. Could you escort Gwyneth?” she asked.
“I’ll be fine,” I said, trying to stand once more.
I’d scarcely gotten the words out when the floor shifted under me. I stumbled again. Jace grabbed my arm, stabilizing me. A heat wave radiated off of him and crawled over my skin. Blazing white light scorched my sight, but I couldn’t look away. What was worse, was that I couldn’t figure out what to do. Look away? Stare him down in what little defiance I had? Pull out my t-rex moves and stand completely still. I wanted to pass out, but I refused to have any rumors start that I fainted in Jace’s arms, or worse – find out a classmate had recorded it on their cell and uploaded it to YouTube.
Mrs. Briggs said, “I think it’s best if you have –”
“I can walk –” I said, a little louder than intended. The edges of my sight darkened. I lost my footing, slipping deeper into Jace’s embrace. His blazing hot skin warmed mine. His flexed arms were hard as he held me tight against his hardened body. I’d never felt safer in my life. “–by myself,” I finished stubbornly, after realizing that his muscular body had distracted me.
“Winnie swooning into the new guy’s arms,” Ryker snickered. “Bree will be furious she missed it!”
Pushing away from Jace, I thought briefly that perhaps the best place to throw up would be on Ryker. It took every molecule in my being to stand upright. The moment I let go of Jace, I froze. The color quickly drained from my face. I swayed, but kept my balance.
Jace commented under his breath about me being more stubborn than he remembered. The moment his breath hit my skin, my blood boiled. A whimper escaped my throat, but I knew Jace heard it because the intensity of his silhouette brightened. I clenched my teeth together to prevent any other signs of defeat from slipping out of my mouth in the form of a whimper or gasp.
“Kicking or screaming, I won’t let her out of my sight,” Jace promised Mrs. Briggs, ignoring my protests.
I objected, but he silenced me in his own special way. He grabbed my arm, holding me with a grip I couldn’t shake. Heat radiated off him. My chest clamped so tight I couldn’t breathe. My back stiffened. His white silhouette flared, and the pounding in my head felt like all its hairs were being ripped out in chunks. Tears felt like acid on my eyes. I thought I saw red in my sight. Liquid seeped from my ears as the dull ring progressed into a fierce shriek.
My world darkened as my legs gave out under me.
***
I awoke on a hard mattress. A young man was threading together a mess of sounds into a sentence. The longer I listened the louder it became and the more relaxed I’d gotten. The thread of words formed a melody strangely memorable yet ghostly unfamiliar.
Disinfectant dominated my sense of smell, except for a scent I couldn’t place. It was faint, but ethereal nevertheless. I patted my upper body down. My school uniform was still intact – damp and sweaty but intact. My hands were cold and clammy. A chill encased me. Didn’t the nurse keep spare blankets somewhere close? Tissue paper shifted under me as I sat up. I swung my legs over the side. My feet didn’t come close to touching the floor. I rubbed my hands together and listened for any sound that would indicate the nurse was nearby, nothing. There wasn’t a sound, except for the background music. Wishing I had a glass of water, I licked my dry lips.
“You do have lustrous lips,” Jace said and the organized thread of jumbled words seized to resonance. His song stopped.
A trickle of heat crawled up my spine as he sat down
next to me. The tissue paper didn’t make a sound as it shifted under his weight. It unnerved me to no end. How could anyone be so soundless?
“Is the nurse here?” I asked.
“She’ll be back soon,” Jace said. His mood was light, but I could feel his eyes taking me in, analyzing my actions, my appearance, and whatever he deemed important. “I seek many things from you, but for you to fear me is not one of them.”
“I’m not afraid of you.” My stomach knotted.
“Then why are you trembling?”
“I’m not,” I said defensively, and clutched my hands together.
He chuckled like he didn’t believe me, not even for a second. The low tones in his laugh were hazardously appealing. A voice that was as deep as his should have personality to match. Of course, I hadn’t actually met many creepers – were they all tempting?
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