Shutting the door behind me, I moved to the back left corner of my room that my queen size bed dominates. I sat on my forest green comforter and leaned against my mismatched yellow and blue pillows, feeling exhausted. I looked around my messy room, feeling numb, but also embarrassed for being so paranoid.
Like my mismatched bedding, there is no rhyme or reason to the decoration of my room. Besides my bed, the rest of the space is taken up by my desk, my clothes dresser, and my bookshelf. The empty wall space above my desk and dresser is consumed by posters from old horror movies. I’m a bit of a horror movie aficionado. I don’t discriminate between old, new, hit movies, B movies, or anything in between.
My ancient, at least it seemed ancient to me, stereo system rested on the floor beside my desk. At any given time, my room is strewn with the cases of whatever CDs I’m obsessed with at the moment, plus a few books. On the other side of my desk is the door to my bathroom. That is one of the few positives about my room, my own private bathroom. The large picture window in the adjacent wall isn't bad either.
I reached down to where I had dropped my stuff and pulled my English book out of my backpack, then stood to set it on my desk. First day and we already had an assignment. It was just plain cruel. If I didn’t do the homework now, I would procrastinate until the day it was due. My goal was to do a little better in school this year. The classes weren’t exactly hard for me. It was more a lack of motivation that kept my grades down. There were just so many books that I wanted to read, and none of my school material made the cut.
I sat down at my desk, my mind still preoccupied, trying to come up with an explanation for the eerie experience in the woods. No matter how I tried to justify what had happened, I kept coming back to the same conclusion: someone or something had followed us, and he/she/it chased us when we ran. The thought briefly crossed my mind that predators will chase you if you run. It’s instinct. They simply can’t help themselves. I suppressed a shiver and stared at my English book for several minutes, then got up and went downstairs. Tomorrow, I’d do it tomorrow. Ri-ight.
My mom was getting home from work just as I reached the living room. She's a field biologist. I’m not sure exactly what she does, something to do with birds. I tried having her explain it to me once, but when she got to the part about collecting dead bird bodies to study, I decided I was okay with not really knowing what my mom does. Her job takes her out of town a lot, which can be good and bad. I miss her, but having free range of the house does not suck.
My mom noticed me and gave me a warm smile that reached her chocolate brown eyes. I get none of my looks from my mom. Her dark, wavy hair and tan skin are in sharp contrast to my blonde paleness. I probably look more like my dad, but I never knew him, so I have no proof.
My mom’s hands were full with what looked like plastic bags of Chinese take-out. My stomach growled as the smell of greasy food hit me. We don’t have the healthiest eating habits, not that I’m complaining. Our main dinners of choice are pizza and Chinese food. If we get bored we occasionally throw in some Indian or, gasp, have a home-cooked meal. On the rare occasion that we decided on home cooking, the task always fell to me. My mom and cooking apparatus of any kind just do not mix.
My mom took the bags to the rectangular, pale wood dining table, while I grabbed us each a glass of water. See, we’re not that unhealthy, water is good for you. Plus there are usually vegetables in Chinese food. Don’t judge us.
My mom pulled out a matching pale wood chair, smoothing the skirt of her burgundy cotton dress as she sat. I followed suit, then dug in the bags for the included wooden chopsticks, handing a set to my mom. We took the little cartons of food out of the bags and placed them between us on two woven yellow placemats. My mom watched me with curiosity in her dark eyes.
“How was your first day?” she asked casually.
“Eh,” I replied, “same old, same old. I’ve got three classes with Allison, two with Lucy, and one with Brian, so that’s good.”
My mom smiled. “Any cute boys?”
Ugh. I sighed, “Must you always ask that question?”
My mom nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. It’s a mom’s duty.”
I ignored her question and focused on my food.
“Any interesting classes this year?” she asked, taking my silence for the dismissal that it was.
“C’mon mom, are there ever any interesting classes in high school?”
She laughed her usual, full-throated laugh. “It could happen.”
“When hell freezes over,” I replied with a smile. “How was your day?”
“Same old, same old,” she mimicked. “I may have to stay a few days in Washington next week.”
I nodded and turned my attention back to my food. My mom prodded me a few more times about boys as we ate, but I unfortunately had to leave her disappointed. Once we finished eating, I headed back upstairs to my room.
As I walked in, I glanced at my English book sitting forlornly on my desk. I thought about trying to do my homework again for roughly two seconds, then grabbed the worn novel off the top of my dresser. I spent the rest of the evening re-reading Galapagos, by Kurt Vonnegut, until I was tired enough to go to sleep.
Chapter Three
There was fire all around me. Everywhere I looked was a solid wall of flame, bright blue at the bottom fading into orange, then pale yellow. I should have been scared, or at least passing out from lack of oxygen, but I was somehow calm. I looked back at the wall of flame.
There were faces in the fire. Faces from my past and present, and some I didn’t know. I saw my mom, Allison, and Lucy amongst them. The faces were all watching me, waiting to see what I would do. A large wolf appeared in the flames, its shaggy gray-black fur immune to the fire. He watched me with his head cocked.
I woke up drenched in sweat. I wiped my brow with the back of my hand as I recalled my dream. I’d had dreams of fire a lot in the past few months, some involving friends and family, and some where I was all alone. The wolf was new though. All of the dreams involved fire. The fire never burned me. I couldn’t even feel the heat. I had no idea what they meant, or if they meant anything at all. The eerie part was that I always woke up with a fever that subsided after an hour or so.
I struggled out of the tangled mess I had made of my sheets and padded into my purple-themed bathroom, turning on the water in my marble tiled shower as soon as I entered so it would have time to heat up. Once the water began to steam, I added a little bit of cold to the mix, stripped off my still-damp t-shirt and boxers that I used as pajamas, and stepped in.
As the hot water washed over my face, I thought more about my recent slew of dreams. I couldn’t understand being surrounded by fire, and not being afraid. I mean, I’ve never been particularly afraid of fire or anything, but I’m sure if I were surrounded by it in the waking world, I’d be more than a little scared.
My mom, who likes to interpret dreams, had quite a few theories, but none that really made sense to me. She told me that fire could symbolize change, life and death, re-growth, or a myriad of other things. It could be different for each person. I had no idea what fire was to me, but I knew there was more meaning to my dreams than simple interpretations could foretell. I’ve always had a strong sense of intuition. Something bad was coming. Hopefully our house wouldn't burn down.
My train of thought had led me to forget whether or not I’d shampooed my hair yet, so I did it again, just in case. I’d been doing that a lot lately.
When I was done, I turned off the water and slid open the glass shower door. Steam seeped out into my small, but beloved, bathroom. I grabbed a fluffy purple towel from the wall rack and wrapped it around me, then moved to look into the round mirror above my sink, clearing a circle in the condensation with my palm. I wiped my moist hand on my towel and peered at my reflection.
I looked like I’d seen a ghost. My face was even paler than usual and I had dark circles under my bright green eyes. The row of big, round light bulbs abov
e my mirror made the dark circles look severe. The dreams were not only weirding me out, they were interfering with me getting a good night’s sleep . . . and causing me to run out of shampoo. Sighing, I ran a comb through my wet hair and left it as that. I dressed in jeans and a dark green t-shirt that emphasized my eyes, and went to school.
When I reached my Biology class, Allison didn’t even bother to tell me her thoughts on my outfit of choice. She simply straightened her satiny burgundy tank-top that went with her designer jeans and dark-brown suede boots. It seemed Allison was beginning to view me as a lost cause. Okay by me.
Mrs. Sanders had decided that the second day of class was a perfect day for dissection. Earthworm guts in the morning. Yum. Ms. Sanders waddled from table to table, letting us choose our sickly gray earthworms with long tweezers from an industrial size jar. .
“Why Xoe? Why worms?” Allison whined.
“Look at it this way Al, it could be way, way worse. In Advanced Bio they have to dissect cats and baby pigs,” I said, turning Allison a lovely shade of green.
Allison was basically the worst lab partner in existence. She refused to touch anything slimy, stinky, or otherwise, even with gloves. I tried not to breathe in the odor as I pinned the poor departed earthworm to the blue foam inside the metal dissection tray. I then poised my scalpel to cut along his underside, following the diagram in our Biology books. Some sort of fluid squirted toward Allison as I punctured the worm, causing her to jump out of her chair and emit a girly scream. I practically fell over laughing, as did those seated near us. I hadn’t squirted her on purpose, total accident. Scout’s honor.
No one seemed to have much success with the worms. By the time class was reaching its end, most of the little creatures had been annihilated into unrecognizable bits of goo. The bell rang before anyone had cleaned his or her tray, so we all had to rush to do it before Ms. Sanders would let us leave. We were going be late for our next classes, with written excuses in hand. Things were looking up.
By the time lunch rolled around, I was still in a fairly good mood. That was, until Lucy and I walked together to the cafeteria to find that Dan was already at our table waiting for us. Lucy sat down right beside him, pretending she was doing nothing out of the ordinary. I considered for a moment sitting somewhere else, but then grudgingly sat down across from Dan and Lucy.
Dan scooted a little closer to Lucy as I sat, being horribly obvious. Lucy’s pale green, lightweight sweater and khaki pants looked out of place against Dan’s charcoal colored t-shirt and dark-wash jeans. Dan met my observant gaze almost territorially. My pulse sped up just a bit. What was with him?
Allison arrived with her lunch and sat down next to me, frowning at Dan and Lucy’s closeness. I pulled my oh-so nutritious lunch, a granola bar, out of my backpack and started munching on it, maintaining eye contact with Dan defensively, trying to ignore the feeling of my hair standing on end. The granola felt like cardboard as it reached my stomach.
“Don’t you have a lunch?” Dan asked Lucy, turning away from my glare.
“Oh, um, I forgot,” Lucy answered.
Forgot? She never forgot. I had the sneaking suspicion that she simply didn't want to eat in front of Dan. I would never understand the way girls act around guys. Missing lunch just so he wouldn’t see you eat? Sorry, but I wasn’t missing lunch for anything short of Johnny Depp.
“Do you want me to get you something?” Dan pressed, looking down at Lucy like she was a rare, delicate flower.
Lucy’s skin darkened with a blush. She looked down at the table. “Oh, no thanks, I’m good.” After a moment of silence, she quickly added, “Thank you for the offer though.”
“You’re really not hungry?” I prodded, annoyed with Lucy's behavior.
“No,” she replied, her skin somehow going even darker.
“I can’t remember the last time I saw you skip lunch,” I went on. “It just seems kind of weird.” Okay, so I was being cruel, but Dan’s presence had me in a bad mood.
Brian trotted up to our table to squeeze in between Allison and me, saving Lucy from further prodding. He was wearing his football jersey and jeans, even though the green and yellow jerseys looked terrible on just about everyone. He set his lunch tray on the table and smiled mockingly when Allison looked down her nose at him.
Dan watched Brian like a hawk, scooting even closer to Lucy. Brian stared back at Dan, mouth screwed up in confusion, then his brow furrowed over his suddenly defensive glare. Uh oh, I could feel the testosterone rising. Dan and Brian continued to stare at each other. Dan was intimidating, and Brian, well, he tried. Something that sounded like a low growl trickled from Dan’s throat. Brian blinked, the defensive look on his face slipping into one of confusion.
“Did you just growl at me?” Brian asked in disbelief.
Dan continued to stare. Brian frowned, but held his ground. What the heck was going on? I mean, it’s not like masculinity contests are uncommon amongst teenage boys, but this was just plain odd. Lucy was practically cowering. Allison was looking back and forth between the two boys like they had just sprouted second heads.
“What is with you?” I asked Dan, exasperated.
He turned his icy glare to me, making me wish I hadn’t spoken. Brian seemed relieved to have the attention off him.
Mustering up my courage, I raised my eyebrows. “Well?” I asked, a little more shakily than I would have liked.
Dan suddenly snapped out of it as a small smile crossed his face. Next he started laughing. “I totally had you guys going,” he said, laughter tinting his words.
Brian laughed hesitantly and soon Allison and Lucy joined him, brushing off the awkward moment. I didn’t get the joke.
The bell rang.
Brian slowly rose with his tray, eyes never leaving Dan. “I’ll see you guys later.”
Apparently Brian was unsure of the “joke” as well. I watched Brian walk to the trashcan and dump his mostly uneaten food. Dan stayed seated, practically pressed against Lucy, until Brian was out of sight. He then insisted on walking Lucy to class. She seemed to be deciding between being pleased or maybe just a little creeped out. They walked out, leaving Allison and me alone.
“What on earth was that about?” Allison asked.
I raised my eyebrows at her. “I told you he was a creep.”
Allison's brows knit together in confusion. “But he growled at Brian, like a dog or something. Was he seriously just kidding around?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t get the joke. Maybe we should cancel on Saturday.”
Allison sighed. “I don’t know if Lucy will go for it. Besides, he really could have just been joking.”
“He sure has a weird sense of humor,” I replied with a scowl.
Allison gave me a weak, humoring smile and we headed for gym. The rest of the day went by as usual, but Lucy and I had Allison give us a ride home, just in case.
The next few days of the school-week were uneventful. Dan sat with us at lunch, with no more shows of male dominance, joking or otherwise. He continued to stare at me during English, but never tried to speak to me alone again. When Friday finally came, the elation I usually felt at the weekend was tainted by the fact that Dan was still included in our Saturday plans.
Lucy and Allison had seemingly forgotten about his weird moment, or else they simply chose to ignore it. I, on the other hand, had not forgotten, and was dreading Saturday. In addition to the evidence I had suggesting that something was seriously wrong with Dan, I also just had an uneasy gut feeling about him. My intuition was still screaming that something bad was coming . . . or maybe it was already here.
Chapter Four
Allison had decided that the shopping couldn’t wait until next weekend, so we were going Friday afternoon. Lucy and I waited outside my house for Allison to come pick us up. Not that we couldn’t drive, we both had our licenses, but sadly, no cars. Allison’s parents bought her car for her on her 16th birthday.
Lucy and I were sitting on
the swinging redwood and wrought iron bench that dominates the left side of my front porch, when Allison’s dark blue Nissan Sentra pulled into my driveway. I matched Lucy’s resigned sigh with one of my own. Neither of us enjoys shopping, but Allison has a tendency to beat at your resistance until you finally just give in to whatever she wants.
“You ready for this?” I asked Lucy.
Lucy nodded her head with a look of determination. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
I stood and straightened my jeans and lightweight navy sweater, then turned to wave goodbye to my mom, who I could see through the kitchen window. Lucy and I strode toward Allison’s car to meet our fate. I stole the front seat, forcing Lucy to slide into the back as we were assaulted by some generic girly pop music blasting from Allison’s car speakers. I immediately grabbed the volume knob and turned the music down to a bearable (or at least as bearable as girly pop can be) volume.
“Remind me why we’re friends with you?” I asked Allison playfully.
“It’s because I have a car,” she replied with a smile. She glanced back still smiling to acknowledge Lucy, but her smile slipped a little as she noticed Lucy’s sweater, which was practically the twin of mine. Allison looked back at me, then at Lucy again. “What are you, the Bobbsey Twins?”
I sighed. “It wasn’t on purpose, don’t judge, you’re not exactly looking your usual self today.”
Allison looked down at her plain white t-shirt and torn, faded jeans. She shrugged. “Laundry day.”
I smiled and said jokingly, “I knew there must be some valid excuse.”
“Of course,” Allison replied as she mimicked a royal bow with the top half of her body. She put the car in gear and began to maneuver out of my driveway. She glanced at me as we reached the road. “Did your mom give you any shopping money?”
“Yeah,” I replied, “she was so shocked that I was actually going back-to-school shopping that I didn’t even have to ask her, she just excitedly ran for her wallet.” I held up my mom’s gray and gold credit card as evidence.
The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series) Page 3