Searching (Hidden Truths Book 1)

by Quell T Fox

  Their town is a good egg.

  “Is that a problem?” I lift my head up, once again meeting Castor’s dark stare. Thorne looks over at me, a shadow of a smirk playing across his lips. My insides start to melt, but I hold my composure and don’t let it show on the outside.

  “No,” Thorne says firmly and something about his tone tells me I should believe him.

  “No,” Castor reiterates. “Just curious. How about you? Got any magical powers?” He crosses his arms over his chest and it takes everything in me not to run my eyes along them.

  “You do realize that is a very rude question, don’t you? Do they not have manners where you come from?” I raise an eyebrow and my eyes meet his. They’re as dark as a black hole. Fitting, since I feel like I could get lost in them. They’re just as intense as I remember. Staring into his eyes is like looking into his soul. But I have a feeling not everyone would be able to see it.

  I think that’s how it is when it comes to people. Everyone has their soul on display in some way, shape, or form. But only those who want to see it are able to. It’s like my soul is napping and only wakes when it feels a call, something worth waking for. And these boys… they are worth being awake for.

  “My apologies. You didn’t come across as the secretive type.” His eyes drop to my necklace as he runs his tongue along his bottom lip. The gesture is delicious. If it was meant to come across that way, I don’t know. The constant smirk on his lips tells me he can be a tease when he wants to be, but something tells me Castor doesn’t like games. And all I can think about now is him running his tongue along other things. Things like me.

  “I’m not, and the answer is no. Happy?”

  He narrows his eyes at me, a grin spreading across his lips. He gives a lazy shrug and plucks a fry from my plate and pops it into his mouth. I watch his mouth as he chews, his perfect lips… the muscles in his jaw. And then, this cocky motherfucker has the audacity to slide his finger between his lips and lick it clean.

  “Guess we will find out.” He stands up, turns around, and his perfect ass is right in my face. I swear he did that on purpose. I can’t help but look at it. The moment I realize what I am doing, I pull my eyes away. Hunter has a smirk on his face. Damn. Caught red handed. I go back to looking at my phone, needing something to do. Lina is no help, she’s starstruck or something. Sitting there gaping, her eyes glued to the guys. Honestly, I think she’s confused over what just happened. I kind of am too. Hunter hesitates for a moment, looking me over. He finally stands and follows after the other two.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” Castor begins, spinning around on his heel. He points at me with his forefinger. “Our date? I’ll pick you up at eight on Friday.” He takes a few backwards steps before turning around and walking towards the door.

  “I never agreed to a date,” I call after him.

  “You never didn’t agree to one,” he says over his shoulder, never slowing his pace. He’s leaving the cafeteria and I still have nothing to say.

  “What is up with those guys?” I ask, feeling slightly irritated, yet unusually turned on.

  “No clue, but if I were you, I’d be a little nicer.” I scoff. “Come on, Leona! They’re hot. And he seriously asked you out? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I get that. Doesn’t mean they can be rude to whoever they want. They’re weird. And maybe if you answered your phone!”

  “But they’re hot,” she whines.

  “Hot doesn’t trump manners!”

  “Sure it does. We’re in high school.” She says it like it’s a legitimate excuse. It’s not.

  I roll my eyes and finish eating. I know I won’t get anywhere with her. She’s too stuck on how hot they are to see how weird they’re being.

  I’m excited about afternoon classes. I don’t have to worry about anyone wanting to talk to me. I have none with Lina and none with the guys. I can concentrate fully and get my work done. I stop at my locker after my last class of the day to swap my books out. I need to take a few home for the homework I didn’t finish and leave the ones I don’t need. No use in carrying them around for nothing. I open my locker and immediately find something in there that doesn’t belong to me. I peak my head around the locker door, checking the number to make sure I have the right one. Yep, definitely mine.

  I look around the hallway and note most of the students are gone at this point, most choosing to stop at their lockers before last period so when the bell rings they can go right out the door. Lina will wait for me at her car like she normally does. I reach in and pull the envelope out. It’s blank and the size of a card you’d get on your birthday. I turn it over and open the flap. I pull out the contents and almost faint at what I see.

  Photos.

  Of me.

  But not just any photos. Not normal, cute photos like from an admirer.

  No. These photos are creepy on so many levels. Pictures of me from when I was little, from an angle somewhere outside of the house. My mom’s house. These photos are from when she was still alive. There’s nine in total. All different. Me sitting in the living room on the floor scribbling on old newspaper with crayons mom got me from the dollar store. They were awful to color with, but they were all I had. Another is of me eating straight from the can with a plastic fork. Then one of me sleeping on my dirty, old mattress on the floor of my bedroom. How someone got a shot inside the second floor like that is what bothers me most.

  I feel like I’m going to be sick. I shove the photos back into the envelope and rush to the bathroom. I burst into the stall and make it to the toilet just in time. I throw up everything left in my stomach, which at this point isn’t much. My food from lunch has already moved on. I sit back against the cool brick wall, wiping my mouth with some toilet paper I pulled from the roll. I look down at the envelope I dropped on the floor like it’s diseased. I take a few deep breaths, fighting off the wave of nausea that hits me again.

  I remember that life. I remember how I felt, what it was like to be there. But I didn’t know how bad it was, not until seeing these photos. It’s like my new, good life has bled into my memories making them not seem as awful as they were. Or it’s just my way of coping. My brain not wanting me to remember how bad it actually was.

  I knew my clothes were too small and always dirty, but in those pictures it’s worse than I remember. The house is dirtier than I recall, stains all over the carpet and trash everywhere. I can still remember the smell. At the time I was used to it but thinking of it now makes me want to throw up all over again.

  I pick up the envelope, shove it into my bag and leave the bathroom, needing fresh air.

  The thing that scares me the most isn’t the photos though, as disturbing as they are. No, the thing that scares me the most out of this is maybe my mother wasn’t as crazy as I thought she was.

  Chapter Ten

  Leona

  I don’t tell anyone about what was left in my locker and I go through the week in my own little bubble. I lie and tell anyone who asks me what’s wrong that I have my period, and cramps are extra harsh this month. It’s a lie because I just had it, but it keeps them at a good distance. Even Lina knows to back off when I’m having a rough month. It happens more often than not.

  I didn’t know any better when I was little. Most kids would have freaked out about the blood, not knowing what was going on. Me? I’d just thought it was normal. Nothing phased me then, back when I was with my mother. It’s like I had seen it all so nothing was shocking. I was blinded to all the wrong going on around me.

  I’ll never forget the day it came. Mom was having a good day. She’d gotten money from somewhere, and I’d woken up with a horrible stomach ache and her cooking waffles. I was so happy because waffles were almost my favorite breakfast. That particular morning I was more hungry than normal. I went to the bathroom, and there it was. Just a small bit, but I cleaned myself up as best I could with the cheap dollar store toilet paper and went downstairs in search of hot food.

  “Hi, darl
ing! How’d you sleep? I’m making waffles. Chocolate chip, your favorite. Have a seat at the table and I’ll bring ‘em to you when they’re done,” mom says.

  I didn’t respond, just went to the table and sat down like she said. Even though she seemed like she was in a good mood it didn’t mean it would last. They didn’t usually last longer than a couple of hours. I sat down, my stomach still hurting but I ignored it. It wasn’t much worse than the hunger pains and I was used to those by now. The smile that crossed my lips kept me occupied, the happiness over a big breakfast keeping my mind off the pain I felt. I knew this would keep me full for a good portion of the day and if she made a bunch, then maybe I could sneak some into my room later for when I can’t find food anywhere else.

  She brought over two plates of waffles soon after. We sit and eat in silence, a smile on her face the entire time. She is proud of what she did, and I guess she should be, for that moment. There aren’t many things she’s done to be proud of, but I guess making her daughter her almost favorite breakfast could be one of those things. When I finish eating, I get up to throw the paper plate into the trash. She lets out a shriek the moment I drop the plate on top of the overflowing garbage.

  “Leona, what in the name did you do to your pants?” She sounds horrified. Like I’d just committed the worst crime known to humanity. I don’t hear this tone from her often, mostly I am ignored, she wasn’t exactly mean, just neglectful and grumpy.

  It’s like I’m a ghost at times. Sometimes I’m not sure if I’m alive or if I’m pretend.

  I turn my head back, trying to look at what she is looking at, but I can’t see. I look down between my legs and see the bright red stain. I’m confused for a moment, not understanding what it could be from. I didn’t spill anything on me, and they were clean when I put them on. There was no jam at breakfast, only syrup.

  “For Pete’s sake! You could have at least told me so you wouldn’t ruin those pants. We don’t have the kind of money to be wasting pants.”

  She stands up from the table, her mood instantly turning sour, the same way the waffles feel in my stomach. I don’t know what I did wrong or what is happening. She makes me scrub the pants clean. I try as hard as I can. I try until my hands are raw and burning, but the stain won’t come out. She makes me wear them anyway.

  Her bad moods were always worse after the good mood. I know now it was because she got the extra good stuff with whatever money she found and once she lost the high, she knew she wouldn’t have another good one for a while.

  I try not to think completely bad of her. My living conditions were bad, yes. I was neglected, yes. But she could have been worse. She wasn’t mean to me; she was just in a bad mood almost constantly. I learned to ignore it and keep to myself. I didn’t know any better. No one but the neighbor kids had ever been nice to me. Even Gary was grumpy all the time. It took me a while to come out of my shell and I know I still haven’t fully, but I’ll get there one day. I still struggle with being ignored. It’s like I automatically revert to being a child when that happens. It’s a hard trigger for me, but I’m working on it.

  After bringing the photos home, I hide them in my underwear drawer knowing no one will go in there. I probably could have left them on my desk and no one would find them. We have a lot of trust in this family and no one snoops around my room. Not unless I give them a reason too, which I wouldn’t. I can only imagine them searching my room if they suspected drugs or stealing. Both are something I would never, ever do. I half expected my room to be turned upside down once Maddox let it be known I got a ride home from a boy. Something I had to share the next day when he grilled me about it over breakfast. They don’t say I can’t hang out with boys; they just annoy me enough about it so I’ll make the decision on my own.

  It works.

  It’s Friday afternoon, right before lunch. Lina skipped our third period class to go bump uglies with Eddie in the auditorium. Don’t worry, this is normal for her. I’m happy she has a normal sex life. It helps with her bad moods. I can’t say I’d be any different if I had someone to do it with. I’m sure when I do, I’ll enjoy it as much as she does.

  When class is done, I walk to the cafeteria by myself. The hallway is mostly empty since I left class late, taking a few minutes to talk to the teacher about extra credit for me and Lina. I don’t need it as much as she does, but it never hurts.

  The three amigos have sat with us every day for lunch, making small talk and being more friendly and less odd. I’m being nice, but I still keep my distance knowing I’m getting side eye from their girlfriends and my fellow students. I also don’t know what those boys are up to.

  We live in peace with the outsiders, but it doesn’t mean we open our doors for them willingly. Inside though, I wish everyone would mind their own business because I’m enjoying our little chats. Hunter is mostly quiet, always playing on his phone, but Thorne is a talker. Castor does a lot of listening, sharing a few words now and then.

  So when I hear their familiar voices coming from around the corner, I slow to a stop.

  “Why else would she have it?”

  I press my back against the cool wall and listen to see if Castor elaborates on his question.

  He doesn’t, but Thorne begins to speak and my curiosity peaks.

  “No clue, but we need to find out. I’m telling you, the more I’m with her the worse it gets.”

  “You’re sure it isn’t just gas?”

  “Seriously? Hunter, you’re an asshole.”

  “Knock it off. The both of you. Either she knows and is good at hiding it or she has no clue.” That’s Castor speaking, I’m sure of it.

  “How is that possible? Wouldn’t she go through the change?”

  “That’s what we need to figure out.”

  I don’t know if it’s narcissism, but I have a feeling they’re talking about me. But about what? I don’t have anything. And what don’t I know?

  They move too quickly. Before I know it, they’re rounding the corner. And for some reason I squeeze my eyes shut like a child. If I can’t see, then obviously they can’t see me either.

  “Uh, are you okay?”

  It’s Thorne. Please let it only be Thorne.

  I open an eye and no such luck. All three of them are standing there, each with a different form of curiosity on their face. Thorne looks concerned, Hunter looks annoyed, and Castor looks intrigued.

  “Yeah, I was just…” I look around the hall for something. Anything. My eyes meet a tiny, copper circle on the ground. “Making a wish!” I reach down to pick up the penny. “Yep, just wishing on this penny. It’s something we do around here.”

  Way to go, Leona. Real smooth.

  “Is that so?” Castor asks, taking a step closer. He gets so close; if I press myself against the wall any harder, I’d meld with it. “Hand it over. Let me have a try.” His breath smells fruity, like he was chewing gum. It doesn’t match his personality but what I would give to taste it right now. I could. If I only moved an inch forward. My eyes meet his and I squeeze my hand between the both of us, holding the penny between my forefinger and thumb. I drop it into his hand when he reaches for it. He looks it over then pockets it.

  “I’ll save it for later. Never know when I’ll need a good wish. Heading to lunch? Great. Us too.” He takes a step back and sweeps his arm out. I catch my breath and take a step forward, heading towards the lunchroom with my head down, the three of them following behind me.

  And I’m sure this is the exact reason I’m still a virgin.

  Facepalm.

  Part of me is worried after this stupidly ridiculous and embarrassing encounter, Castor won’t want to go out with me tonight. Why I suddenly care, I have no idea. I never agreed to it in the first place. The other part hopes he will call it off. I’m more nervous than I should be about a date I never agreed to. Though if I’m being honest, his persistence and dominance on the matter makes my knees weak.

  Lunch isn’t as awkward as I expected it to be. Lina i
sn’t here so it’s just me and the guys. They stay mostly quiet, not eating a thing, as usual. Hunter is on his phone, doing whatever he normally does with the same grumpy ass look on his face. Thorne has his nose buried in a book, studying for a test he has next class. And Castor just sits there, watching all of it. That should be weird, right? So please tell me why it isn’t. Tell me why I like knowing he is watching me, knowing I’ve caught his attention.

  Soon enough the bell is ringing and we’re splitting up and going to our next classes. The afternoon goes by quickly and before I know it, I’m standing in my bedroom preparing for a date.

  I don’t let Caster pick me up, worried my family will find out. Instead, Lina agreed to pick me up and drop me off at the restaurant Castor said to meet him at. He wasn’t thrilled about this idea, but it was the only way I’d agree to go. And for some reason, it was more important than not going at all. I did agree to him dropping me off at home afterwards because it can be explained easier. Or not explained at all if I get in and rush upstairs without running into anyone.

  I did tell Friday where I was going though. She screamed so loud I thought the guys would come rushing in, worried something happened. She was thrilled I’ll be going on my first date.

  “Remember, call me in thirty minutes,” I say, closing the car door behind me and leaning inside of the window. Lina is looking in the mirror, applying another layer of lipstick. She’s meeting Eddie.

  “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” She swats at me mindlessly.

  “Lina, I’m serious!”

  “Okay! Relax.” She smiles at me and then blows a kiss. “You’re not going to need an escape anyway. I’m telling you, that guy,” she points towards the restaurant, “is not the kind of guy you want to escape from.” She winks and puts the car in drive. “Have fun! Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” I step back and she drives off.

  The problem is, I know she’s right. Castor isn’t the kind of guy you want to escape from, and the thought is terrifying. I want to be here, which is even more terrifying. I take a few calming breaths and place my hand on my stomach to settle my nerves. It doesn’t help.