by S.B. Rodgers
Raph’s eyes were wide; this was not holy power, nor was it demonic. It burned where the ropes touched him, numbing him and slowly sapping his strength. The otherworldly limbs continued to encircle him as Abby slept below, unaware of what was happening. He needed to get away, or he was going to die; he knew this, felt it with every fibre of his being. He renewed his struggle against the grasping, twining ropes, trying desperately to escape. He shook back and forth, feeling his energy fading as his vision doubled, then tripled.
I can’t die like this, he thought angrily. I won’t…As he felt the last bits of his strength slipping away, he stopped moving completely, focusing on one thing. Focusing on the feeling, the taste, the colour; he focused on his blood, on the mirror and the room that waited for his return. He focused on the markers he had left for himself, on his path back home, and vanished.
He was ejected bodily from the mirror, tripping backwards and nearly falling with the impact. Regaining his balance, he leaned against the wall, staring into Abby’s room, watching as the golden lights receded swiftly into her sleeping form. “Damn,” he gasped, exhausted and more than a little freaked out. “What in the Seven Hells was that?”
Chapter 12
As she walked down the deserted corridors, Abby revelled in the early-morning silence. The school was nearly empty; this was why she bothered walking nearly thirty minutes to the campus, rather than wait for the school bus. The twins used their own cars, but of course she didn’t have one, so she walked every day to school and took the bus back home in the afternoon.
It wasn’t bad, really. She enjoyed seeing the place bathed in early morning light, sparkling clean before the hordes of students arrived and made her life miserable. The time between leaving the house and school starting in the morning was the best, and it was hers alone.
She rounded the corner, smiling slightly to herself, and stopped in her tracks. Someone was leaning on her locker, seemingly asleep on his feet. She stepped closer, cautious until she recognized him. That hair couldn’t belong to anyone else; Gabe Ward was in front of her locker, his head and shoulders resting against the cool metal surface. Even more surprising, he was holding two large cups full of what seemed to be coffee, judging by the aroma wafting through the air.
Abby walked up to him quietly, wondering what he was doing there, and was he actually asleep? His face was completely calm, his eyes shut, and his breathing deep and even. She looked up at him, unable to suppress a half-smile at this vulnerable side of Gabe. She gazed at him for a few seconds, then slid her bag onto the floor as silently as possible. She didn’t want to wake him up, but she was sort of worried about the position he was in. Sleeping standing up just seemed like a bad idea, she thought, studying his relaxed frame.
She had just got up the courage to stretch up her hand and try to wake him when Gabe, eyes still firmly shut, raised one of the cups to his mouth and inhaled deeply, drinking a long draught of the hot coffee. He opened his eyes and blinked blearily at Abby “Good morning—lord, but it’s early.” As he sucked back more coffee, Abby tried desperately to get her pulse back under control. He had startled her with the sudden movement, and she had jumped back nearly a foot in her surprise. Gabe sighed contentedly and turned to her, holding out his hand. “Coffee?”
She looked at the paper cup dubiously, watching the aromatic steam curl up and disappear from the vented lid. “Ah…no thanks.” She shook her head, holding up a hand dismissively “I don’t drink coffee—I don’t like the taste.”
Gabe’s eyes widened incredulously. “Wow. Seriously? You really don’t...” He caught himself babbling and coughed, clearing his throat “How do you wake up so early in the morning without caffeine?” He asked, completely serious.
Abby laughed a little, nervous under his piercing blue-grey gaze “I’m just a naturally early riser, I guess.”
Gabe laughed softly, muttering something like “no kidding,” as he drained the cup in his hand. “Abby…” he bent to place his empty cup on the floor. “thank you for lending me your books.” He smiled warmly at her, and she felt the blood rising to her face, blushing her cheeks a deep pink.
“N-no problem,” she stuttered, looking at the floor in embarrassment.
Gabe stretched, cracking his neck back and forth, and pushed himself off of her locker door “Well then, if you won’t drink it, more for me!” He took a swig from the remaining cup. “I’ll bring you something more suited to your tastes tomorrow, then.”
Abby was already clicking away at her lock, working to open it quickly. “And how would you know—there!” She said in triumph as the thing finally fell open. “How would you know what my tastes are?” She felt a gentle knock against her side, and turned to see Gabe dangling her bag towards her.
Gabe smiled again, handing her the heavy pack before turning to leave, cups in hand. “I’ll just bring you something different every day until we find one you fall in love with.” He walked away from her, sipping coffee and holding his other hand up in a casual backward wave. Abby sighed in exasperation, muttering a quick goodbye at his retreating form.
* * *
She wandered into the art room early, cardboard portfolio under her arm, waiting for the day to begin. The teacher acknowledged her with a nod before turning back to the clay sculpture his hands were currently buried in. Abby stood behind him, watching him work for a moment. Mr. Dupont was one of her favourite teachers. He was always creating something, his hands never staying still for very long. His greying light-brown hair was tied into a long ponytail, the only visible remnant of his days as a hippie. “Anything I can help you with, Abby?” He asked, not looking up from the heavy terracotta clay he was moulding with his gnarled fingers.
Abby balked, realized that she had been staring. “Ah, sorry…no…” she said quietly. She looked at the sculpture again. “It’s nothing.”
He nodded, focused as he smoothed the surface with dripping-wet hands. “Well, if you’re sure. Let me know if you need anything.”
Abby quietly retreated to her table at the back corner of the room. She set her portfolio down on the stained tabletop and pulled up a chair. Reaching down, she pulled a pencil out of her bag and began doodling on the portfolio’s rough surface, waiting for the rest of the students to trickle in.
Abby looked up when the bell rang. Mr. Dupont stood at the front of the classroom behind his hand-carved podium. He cleared his throat and began the class. “Okay guys, settle down. Good morning. Today, we’re starting portraiture. I‘ve already paired you off with each other, and you’ll be drawing your partner. For example, hmmm…Abby and Raph; Abby, you’ll draw Raph, and Raph will then draw Abby sometime next week. I’ll warn you it will take a few weeks to complete them properly, so don’t leave it ‘till the last minute.”
Abby stared at Mr. Dupont, sure that she had misheard him. Raph and her? This couldn’t be right. Her hand shot up into the air “Sir, did you say that Raph and I are working together?” she couldn’t help the hint of desperation that crept into her voice.
Mr. Dupont looked at her “Is that a problem, Abby?”
Abby glanced around the classroom, looking for any excuse “Raph isn’t even here, sir!” The teacher opened his mouth to speak when the door behind him flew open.
“Sorry I’m late,” Raph muttered, fighting back a yawn and blinking blearily. “Slept in.” He said by way of explanation as he flung his bag down onto a vacant table.
“Well, I guess I should be grateful that you showed up.” Mr. Dupont said with a small shake of his head. “At least this way everyone has a partner. Yours is Abby, by the way.”
Raph stared at him for a moment. “…Are you serious?”
Mr. Dupont sighed in exasperation “Just what is the issue here, you two? No, you know what, that’s just too bad. You’ll have to tough it out with each other. I’m not switching everyone around for your convenience.”
Abby and Raph both spoke at the same time. “But—“
“That’s
final. And Raph, you were late. You have less than no say in the matter. Now everyone, get to work!”
* * *
There were a few moments of noisy, chaotic shuffling as everyone in the class found their respective partners and began to set up. Raph wandered slowly over to Abby’s table, his expression one of obvious apprehension. He pulled a chair over, taking a seat across the table from her. “’Morning. Let’s get started?”
Abby stared resolutely at the drawing materials she was arranging on the desk and nodded once.
“So, where do you want me?”
“On the other side of the room,” she muttered, flipping through the finished drawings in her portfolio to get a fresh sheet of paper.
Raph smirked, “You really hate me that much, huh?”
She glanced up at him, her big green eyes expressionless. “Can you turn to the side?”
“Hm?”
“I’m going to draw you in profile.”
Raph turned as directed, raising his chin to a fairly comfortable angle. “This way I won’t have to stare at you the whole time, right?” Raph murmured, slight disappointment creeping into his voice.
“Yeah, lucky you.” Abby said, sounding hurt.
Raph glanced back at her, saw that her face was red and her eyes were downcast. Damn it, he cursed inwardly. He turned his head “Hey, I didn’t—“
“Eyes forward,” she snapped, picking up the thick black stick of charcoal and poising it over the rough paper’s surface.
Reluctantly he turned, eyes focusing on a spot on the wall. Raph sat uncomfortably still, listening to the scratching of the charcoal as it moved around the page, filling in the contours and shadows of his face. He had made her angry. Without even trying, he had said the wrong thing again. Raph absentmindedly drummed his fingers against his leg. Why was it always like this? I can’t even talk to her anymore, that’s how much I’ve made her hate me. He thought. Normally he would revel in this finding, as a sign of a job well done. This time was different, however. She was different. She—
“Hey!”
He stiffened, glanced over at Abby who glowered at him from behind the paper. “Ah, sorry.” He sighed and sat still again, eyes roving the room. The other students in the class were all drawing one another, talking and laughing while they worked. The art teacher was elbow-deep in a pile of clay, shaping…whatever he was working on. It was too early in the process to tell what he was sculpting. “This brings back memories,” Raph said, trying to catch Abby’s eye.
“What?” she snapped, not taking her eyes or hand off the paper.
“You and me talking in art class. Even sharing the same table. Just like old times.” He said with a small smile on his face.
“…I really don’t want to talk about this.” Abby said quietly, her hand wavering over the paper.
Raph turned his face to look at her. “Why not?” His eyes bored into her, watched as her hands and lips began to tremble. She slammed her hands onto the table suddenly and stood up.
Red-faced and still staring at the table in wide-eyed anger, she shouted, “You know why!” Abby stormed out of the room, sending the class into a flurry of chatter.
Raph watched her go, a strange look on his face. He glanced around, saw everyone staring at him. He smacked his forehead into his palm and shook his head roughly “Damn it!”
Chapter 13
The bell rang, indicating that they had five minutes to get to their next class. English was next, and Gabe was at Abby’s locker waiting for her when she came to get her books. “We’d better go.” Abby said, shutting her locker and snapping the lock in place. Gabe hoisted his bag up onto his back, then held out his hand.
“Here, give me your cell for a sec.” Abby handed Gabe her phone, a quizzical look on her face as he tapped away at the tiny keys with his thumbs. The furrow on her brow deepened as he held the phone over his head and snapped a photo. He handed it back to her with a smile “I put my number into your contacts. Now you can call me whenever you want!”
Abby looked at the screen of her phone. Sure enough, there was all of his contact information; cell phone number, home phone, address, and an overhead shot of his perfect smiling face. It should be illegal to look that good in a snapshot, she thought sulkily. “Thanks?” she said.
“No problem. It’ll make showing me around easier. Also, when I get lost—that’s not an if, it’s definitely a when—I’ll have someone to come find me.” He held up his own phone and grinned. “Say cheese!”
Abby froze like a deer caught in the headlights, her eyes wide. The camera flashed, capturing her horrified gaze. Gabe blinked, looking at the resulting image. “Well, it’s certainly…like you.” He showed her the display. Her green eyes looked huge in the picture, the flash washing out all of her other features.
“That’s what you get for trying to get a picture of me like that!” she glanced up into his eyes, embarrassed and a bit angry.
“Hmmm…well, I’m keeping it.” He snapped the phone shut decisively with a nod. “I think it’s great—like I captured your soul with it.”
Abby laughed helplessly; she didn’t know what to make of him sometimes.
“So…do you want to go with me after school?”
She stopped laughing and cocked her head, a small smile still on her face. “Go?”
“To soccer practice,” Gabe explained. “I’m going to try out, and I’d love to have you there, you know, to cheer me on.”
Abby shook her head. “It’s mid-October, Gabe. Soccer try-outs were in September.”
Gabe put his hands around his mouth, stage-whispering and leaning towards her while glancing around conspiratorially. “Don’t worry, I have a plan,” he straightened back up.
“But—“
“Trust me.”
“…Fine. I’ll go with you. I suppose,” She looked at him slyly. “you don’t even know where the field is, right?”
Gabe burst out laughing. “Nothing gets past you, huh?” he picked up her bag from the ground and handed it to her. “Come on—we’ll be late for English if we don’t book it.”
Abby remembered that they were indeed running late and snatched her books out of his hand. She hurried forward, walking as quickly as she could without breaking into a run.
“Ah…” Gabe stood back against the lockers, watching her rush down the near-deserted hallway
Abby turned her head, looking back at him. “Hurry up—you don’t want to get lost.”
“Right.” He hurried after her. “Let’s go.”
* * *
Abby gathered her books and papers, shoving them indiscriminately into her bag as Gabe stood behind her, waiting patiently. “Sorry,” she muttered as she forced the final notebook into the heavy-duty tote. “I’m making you late for soccer—” It finally jammed into place with a satisfying thunk. She looked up at him, brushing the hair out of her eyes.
“Shall we?” he held out his hand to her.
She stared at it for a second, reddening slightly. He saw her hesitate and stepped closer, leaning over and reaching around her. Abby flinched involuntarily, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, Gabe was shouldering her messenger bag, adjusting the strap with his left hand.
He smiled at her. “Come on, let’s go.” He turned and headed for the door, beckoning for Abby to follow.
She froze, unsure of what to do. She knew that he would be fine without her, but she had promised to go with him. Truth be told, it wasn’t him she was worried about. But, she thought-a small ray of hope shining through-maybe it would be fine simply because Gabe was there. Besides, he had her keys. Abby stepped out into the hallway that Gabe had disappeared in, only to nearly collide with his back.
He looked over his shoulder at her “You alright?”
She looked up at his handsome face, a hesitant smile flickering on her features. “I’ll be fine.”
He offered his hand to her again. “Here; can’t have my guide getti
ng lost.” Hesitantly, she placed her tiny hand on top of his warm palm. His fingers enfolded hers immediately, squeezing reassuringly. “Now, let’s find this field I’ve heard so little about!”
* * *
Stepping into the late afternoon sunlight Abby blinked as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. She shielded her eyes with her free hand, squinting across the wide, green fields. Spotting the soccer team in the distance, she pointed them out to Gabe. “There they are. We should…”
She paused, looking up at him. He was gazing in the direction she was pointing, the sun behind him highlighting his profile, his pale blond hair shining bright silver in the light. Her breath caught involuntarily. She tried to cover it up with a small cough, as if she was clearing her throat. “A-anyway, come on. You can talk to the coach over there.” She trotted towards the soccer field.
Gabe hoisted her bag into place and hurried after her with an enthusiastic “Great!”
The coach, a beefy man in his late forties, saw them coming and waved. “What’s up, Shepard? Who’s your friend?” he barked.
Abby walked up to him. “Coach Cooper, this is…”
Gabe grinned and stuck out his hand, shaking the coach’s enthusiastically “Gabe Ward. Pleasure to meet you.”
“He wants to try out for the team,” Abby continued “I told him it was too late in the season, but…”
Coach Cooper took a step back, appraising Gabe. “Well, we’ll see about that…” He tilted his head, addressing Gabe “Where did you go to school before, son?”
Gabe chuckled “Well, it’s more like where haven’t I gone to school. I was in New Zealand for a few years when I was young, and then a handful of European private schools.”
The coach stroked his chin “Alrighty, let’s see what you’ve got, Ward.”
“Yes, sir!”
“Enough of that ‘sir’ stuff, too—it’s coach, got it?”
Gabe nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to Abby “Weird question, but do you have a hair tie I could borrow?”
She looked down at her wrists “Ah…yeah, here’s one.” She peeled the dark elastic band off and held it up to him.