by W.J. May
Chapter 5
Something warmed one side of my face. My head instinctly moved towards it and the other side of my face cooled against the pillow. Fluttering my lids, the sun shined through the window, creating the heat. Burrowing deeper into the heavy duvet, I drifted, not asleep, but enjoying that wonderful half-awake feeling when you know you don’t have to get up and rush off to school. The scent of delicious male cologne filled my nostrils. I moved closer to the smell.
“You know, you’re very cute when you sleep.”
My eyes popped open. Michael lay on the bed, his head leaning against the headboard of Grace’s bed, arms crossed, hair perfect and an unbelievably sexy grin on his face. Last night’s memories came crashing through my mind.
I sat up, very conscious of my heavy, tired eyes and morning breath, positive the back of my head had a rat’s nest tangled in it. Why do guys always have to look so perfect?
His face lost its humor. “Are you okay?”
“I’m, uh, fine.” Just in dire need of a brush and a bottle of mouthwash. Maybe throw in some kind of manual on crazy beasts living in the forest.
“You feel like getting up and going for a drive?”
With him, no human would say no. Except…“I should find Grace, and see if she’s planned anything.”
Michael let out an intoxicating laugh. “She’s fine.” He paused, staring at the ceiling a moment. “Grace and Sarah are out running an errand. We’ve plenty of time to go for a ride and still be home before they get back. I promise. She’s not mad.” His hand came up in a Scout’s honor position.
“If you’re sure…” Guilt washed over me for preferring to hang out with Michael rather than Grace. However, if she’d gone out with Sarah, a short drive wouldn’t be so bad. “Give me ten minutes.”
I waited. Michael didn’t move. My only way off the bed would be to crawl over the top of him. Kicking the blankets off, I shuffled to the foot of the bed. Still unable to avoid not touching him, I edged over his legs and let my toes reach for the floor. My hands brushed against his shins, enjoying the hot and cold feeling his body gave off. Once off the bed, I stood in the middle of the room not sure where I’d left my backpack or what to do.
“I’ll meet you downstairs.” He dropped his legs over the bed and stood, relaxed and confident. He walked by me, his arm brushing against mine. When he opened the door, he turned. “I’ll make some breakfast while you get ready.” He pointed at the ground beside Grace’s closet and disappeared down the hall.
I looked down where he’d pointed. My bag. The door behind it led to a bathroom. Alone, I grabbed my backpack and dumped it on the bed, hoping I’d packed something decent to wear today. The leather book from the bookstore slid to the floor. I leaned over and grabbed it then tossed it on the bed, more concerned about dashing to the bathroom, showering and getting dressed in record time.
I did manage to get ready in a decent amount of time. Unfortunately, my sneakers decided to play hide and seek. Michael knocked on the door just as I was crawling around on the floor looking for my right shoe.
“Do you remember where I tossed my shoes last night when we got back?” Near the corner of the bed, a sparkle caught my eye. “Forget it. Found you.” I grabbed it and held it up triumphantly to Michael. He wore a pair of blue jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt. Incredibly hot without even trying to be. Okay. Enough with the oozing over the guy. I was starting to annoy myself with my inability to let it go.
“I made coffee and Sarah bought muffins. She bought like ten different kinds. Are you almost ready to–” He stopped mid-sentence, dropping the travel mug on the nightstand, and muffin bag on the floor. He swiped something off the bed.
I reached out to stop the wobbling mug.
“Is this yours?” He held the book at arm’s length, by the corner.
I nodded.
He snorted.
In disgust? “I got it from The Eclectic Bookshop yesterday.” Pulling my shoe on, I peered at the cover. Why’s he acting so weird? “I haven’t had a chance to look at it. It looks really old.”
“Yesterday?” He glared at the book and mumbled something.
All I caught was “…makes sense now.” I had no idea what he meant.
“We need to get this out of the house before Caleb gets home. He’ll freak if he sees it.”
“Why? It’s just an old folklore book.”
“Let’s go.” He reached for my elbow and steered me toward the hall. “You can drink your coffee in the car.”
Gravel sprayed as we spun out of the driveway. Michael finally slowed the car when he turned onto a scenic route to the mountains. He sat rigid and quiet, so I sipped at my coffee and ate my muffin. I picked up the book and flipped it open to the middle. “Holy friggin’ smokes!” The hand drawn picture was of the ugliest, crudest looking thing I’d ever seen—some kind of ancient scary mythical creature. I traced a finger along the charcoal ridges. Some kind of fountain pen ink had been used in tracing it.
I turned to the first page and read the single sentence on it. “Grollic Monstrum. An aberrant occurrence that has the ability to produce fear or cause physical harm. Can the beast be tamed? Or controlled?”
I flicked through some of the drawings scattered throughout the book. Large, dark, omniscient animals had eyes that stared directly at you from the paper. A page on the left showed a drawn photo which had been painted in. Amber yellow eyes.
I gasped and then tried to catch my lost breath. What knocked the wind out of me was cold, hard realization.
“That animal last night, it…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. It couldn’t be. This kind of stuff was all myths and legends, folklores.
Michael continued to stare at the road, his knuckles white against the wheel he gripped. His posture confirmed what I didn’t want to believe.
“It can’t be. It doesn’t exist.”
The silence drove me crazy.”
“It isn’t real.”
“They are.”
What? Wait a sec. “Not just one, there are more? H-How do you know?”
“I just do. The grollic’s smell was all over the forest.”
Turning to face him, I studied his tense profile. “You could smell it? I didn’t even hear that thing until it was three feet in front of me. A grollic?” The word was foreign to my tongue. I needed to concentrate but it all seemed ridiculous. What normal human could hold a conversation on real-live monsters seriously? “You’re not one, are you?” I giggled. He did seem to have some peculiar habits, obviously not spooky, but, in my anxiousness, I couldn’t resist teasing.
“Never!” He snapped like I’d whipped him.
I exhaled, letting my head fall against the back of the seat. “Sorry. I’m only kidding.” Michael obviously wasn’t. I’d hit a nerve with my crappy humor. A reminder of why I should never use it.
He pulled over on the side of the road at a lookout point. Something about the intensity in his blue eyes captivated me. I didn’t bother glancing out the windows at the scenery. I had all I needed in the car.
Michael shoved the car in park and drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. “This is real. There are things I’m not allowed to say,” he scoffed, “and other stuff you wouldn’t understand.”
Crazy alert. Get out of the car and walk away. My brain seemed to think it knew better than my body. I sat silent, unsure what to do.
He stomped a foot against the car floor. “I’m not sure what to tell you.”
“The truth.” I barely knew the guy and here I sat, in his car, demanding he spill his guts. I crossed my arms, ticked at my inability to keep my mouth shut.
His eyes ran up and down me, obviously misreading my body language. “I tell you a hideous creature went after you, and you barely bat an eye. You just turn and ask if I’m one.”
“I was joking.”
“Yeah, you said that.” He shifted, turning back to the wheel and staring straight ahead.
My right thumb traced th
e pad of my left hand. If I told him my feelings, I’d step over a line I’d never crossed before. Totally risky, but is it as dangerous as the animal in the forest last night? Swallowing hard, I hesitantly laid my fingers on his wrist. When he looked at me, I stared back into his ocean blue eyes. “I…We haven’t known each other very long, but there’s something...I li-like you.” I wanted to add it was different, not like anything I’d ever felt before. Instead, I babbled. “This may sound weird, but I can’t get you out of my head. I hardly know you, but I trust you with my life.” Horrified at what I’d admitted, I pressed my lips closed tight. When Michael didn’t say anything, I sat back against my seat. Crap! I’ve just screwed up royally. I dropped my face in my hands.
“Trust me when I say I’m not right for you.” Michael’s voice took on that husky rasp which made my breath catch. “I’m no good for you.”
My heart sunk. Grace had been wrong last night when she said Michael liked me. My brain kept sending my heart mixed signals. I responded the way I always did. I got defensive. “Isn’t it up to me to decide what’s good or bad for me?”
“I was afraid you’d say something like that.” Without another word, his hands pulled at my wrists, forcing me to look at him. The anger in his face softened as his eyes danced back and forth. His face close, he leaned forward and as he opened his mouth to speak, he brushed his lips lightly against mine. Fire and ice. Like dynamite exploding inside my head.
Without thinking, one of my hands touched his face and the other went behind his head, its fingers curling in his soft hair. Then he kissed me, this time with intention. It was intoxicating, left me completely breathless.
As quickly as he’d begun, he pulled away, heaving. “Sorry. That wasn’t supposed to happen.” His eyes were shut tight.
“I didn’t mind at all.” Could my mouth, for once, keep up with my brain and shut up?
“Rouge,” he whispered. I loved the way my name rolled off his tongue. “This can only end badly.”
“How do you know? We’ve barely started. Why not give this a chance and see what happens?” Terrified he’d push away; I reached out and grabbed his wrist. I’d never wanted someone like this. I’d been content to live my life on my own and suddenly it seemed the loneliest option in the world.
Michael rubbed the light stubble on his jaw. He appeared torn, trying to wrestle his version of good versus evil. He sat perfectly still for a few minutes and finally turned, his blue eyes boring into mine. “Screw it. I can’t fight this. Just promise you won’t hate me in the end?”
“As long as we don’t burn in hell, we’re good to go,” I joked.
His jaw dropped and his eyes grew big. Then he laughed a deep throaty one straight from deep inside. “Alright. Let's head back to my place. Grace is already bugging me, wondering where you are. And,” he swallowed, “it’s time you met Caleb.” He squeezed my hand and turned the car around.
The way he spoke made me anxious. I thought about those terrible yellow eyes again. Thankful now it’d been too dark to see the thing properly. “What are they?”
Michael sighed. “Grollics? They’re human but biologically messed up. Something’s wrong within their natural order. It’s impossible to explain.”
I had no reply. I didn’t get it nor could I fathom it. If I hadn’t seen those freakish hollow eyes last night, I wouldn’t believe a word Michael said.
We drove for a bit in silence. My mind raced at the thoughts of a possible relationship, of monsters and of why in the world my hormones were all jacked up. Why did Michael know so much about grollics? A sudden thought crossed my mind. “How old are you?”
He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. “How old did Grace tell you I was?”
“She dodged answering the question, like you are now.”
“You asked her about me?” He grinned. “I’m…nineteen.”
“I’ll be eighteen in January. However, I think I’m seventeen going on thirty. I’ve been grown-up for so long.”
He chuckled. “I know the feeling.”
Another thought hit me. “How old’s Grace?”
The question took him by surprise. He appeared about to say one thing but seemed to change his mind. “We’re twins.”
Totally weird. Now how’d I have a hunch on that? “How come you’re done with school?”
“I work with Caleb.”
“Did you drop out? Or skip a grade?”
“No.”
That didn’t answer anything. He obviously didn’t want to talk about it – yet. “Why the pretense she’s younger than you?”
“She is younger, by a bit.”
“You born first?” Grace had said he was older. Too many weird secrets. “Are you guys in some kind of trouble?”
“Questions, questions.” He grinned. “Has anyone ever told you, you talk a lot?”
“Never.” I shrugged, feeling giddy. Not once in my entire life. “One more question, and I promise I’m done.”
Michael raised an eyebrow.
“Why was one of those monstery-things after me?”
“Now there’s a loaded question. Caleb might know the answer.” He glanced down at the book sitting between us.
“One more question.” He opened his mouth, so I quickly added, “Can we stop at Starbucks and grab a latte? Sorry to say this, but you make lousy coffee.”