We drove to a sprawling mall that immediately made me wish this shopping trip was over, and he managed to coax me out of the car with nothing more than the bright pull of his infectious smile. It didn’t take me long to realise that he used his stupid happiness to lull me into a false sense of security before tossing me straight to the wolves. The shoe shops were the worst. The women looked at my chameleon sneakers like they were actual lizards, crawling all over their precious stock. Cabe had to accompany me into those shops, because I kept leaving without buying anything. He forced me to get two pairs of formal shoes, and my eyes snagged on a pair of pale yellow ballet flats on our way out of the store, so he bought those too.
He paid for everything on his credit card, and laughed every time I got squeamish.
“I feel like a ho,” I eventually said, as we rested beside one of the mall fountains, sharing a bag of cinnamon doughnuts.
He snorted. “I hope you’re joking.”
I shrugged, and he stole my doughnut, popping it into his mouth. I glared at him, not used to people stealing food out of my hands, and his smile softened. He reached out, brushing cinnamon from my chin; and just like that, I was putty in his hands all over again. He dragged me through dress shops and handed me—plus his credit card—over to the sales women, giving them a strict time limit.
They all kept trying to sneak glimpses of him waiting outside, leaning against the second story railing of the mall with his soft brown hair curling over his forehead and his golden-brown eyes sparkling around with amusement. He looked like a movie star, and I was pretty sure they thought that I was his ho as well. Finally, with my arms piled with bags and my mind full of misplaced guilt from needing to break out of a sex industry I wasn’t actually part of, I escaped the mall and bundled back into the jeep.
On the drive home, I planted a finger in Cabe’s face. “I know your secret.”
He grinned. “What?”
“You’re Satan, hiding in the body of a teenage boy.”
“You’ll need to extrapolate, sweetheart.”
I rolled my eyes at him. “You trick people with your face, and then torture them. You cast all of that happiness out like a string of bait, and like the fools that we are—we pick up the other end and allow you to lead us to slaughter.”
He threw his head back and laughed. “Wow, you really know how to paint a pretty picture, don’t you, Seph?”
“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
He slapped the steering wheel once, his laughter tumbling over me. After he gained control of himself, he asked, “Are you trying to say that you like my face?”
I averted my eyes to the window, watching the other cars pass us. We were driving very slowly, and I couldn’t help but suspect that Cabe wanted to prolong our outing. I was too embarrassed to say anything more, and eventually he quietened and caught my hand. I suspected that the grip was supposed to be soothing, or companionable, but the conversation that I had eavesdropped on earlier rushed back to me and I stared even harder at the window.
We drove the rest of the way in silence and he helped me take the bags up into the apartment before making excuses and leaving me by myself. I piled everything onto Noah’s bed, because his room was closer, and then I pulled out every receipt and wrote the prices down in the back of my English notebook. Even though I couldn’t afford the things that Cabe had forced me to purchase, and even though I was well aware of their propensity for taking control of my life… I still wouldn’t allow myself to accept this kind of help. The little black numbers printed innocently along the bottom of each of my receipts blinked back at me as I copied them, as if to enquire after my discomfiture. I couldn’t even explain to myself why it felt wrong, only that I needed to pay back this money, even if it took me years to save it up.
I sorted through the mess of fabric, pulling out a yellow thing that looked familiar. The saleswoman had called it a bandage dress, and had gushed about it for a solid few minutes, so I guessed it would do. It was edged with white lace around the hem and neckline, and it fit snugly, ending a few inches above my knees. I tossed it to the side and hunted through the pile for the small bag of underwear, setting that aside as well. I folded the other clothes neatly and hid them in the bottom of Noah’s closet, not wanting to take up any room. I tipped the underwear into a nearly empty desk draw, figuring that he probably wouldn’t look in there, and then I left the apartment and walked down the hall. I was still a little embarrassed about the way they had reacted to by marks the day before, so I knocked first. Quillan opened the door and stood aside for me to enter.
“Where is everyone?” I asked, trying to stand there unobtrusively and be polite.
“Silas is… well, Silas. And Noah is with Cabe, getting things ready for their party.”
“Why are they having a party?”
He motioned me in, and I followed him to a room off to the side of the kitchen, where a dining table strewn in paperwork was baking in the glow of the afternoon sun. The cherry-wood tone of the furniture gave the room a toasted appearance, and the obscene urge to sniff the sunburnt air grasped me. He sat and waved at a seat, inviting me to join him. I seated myself and tipped back in my chair to catch more of the sun.
“Appearances are important to us,” he said, watching me with a muted fondness, like perhaps it pleased him to see me comfortable. “You won’t understand why just yet… but in time, things will become clearer. This school is the last one in Seattle that they haven’t been kicked out of, so their attitude inside its walls has changed drastically to prevent any trouble. We paid a lot of money to have them admitted with their records; we can’t have them messing it up now. Even so… they need a way to remind people of who they are. A gathering outside the jurisdiction of the school is the perfect setting to re-establish certain things.”
His response surprised me, and I sat up a little straighter, trying to puzzle it out. Cabe and Noah didn’t exactly seem the type to skip school or fail classes. They didn’t even seem the kind to be overly concerned about their reputation. “Why do they keep getting kicked out?”
Quillan stood and disappeared into the kitchen for a few minutes, returning with a mug, which he pushed into my hands. I sniffed it, and then sipped it, lingering over the mix of coffee and chocolate. “Thanks—” I halted, seconds away from calling him Mr. Quillan.
“Just call me Miro, it’ll make it easier in the long run.” He sounded strained.
I didn’t entirely understand the sudden stiffness in his shoulders that hinted at discomfort. Under any normal circumstances it might have been normal for him to feel awkward, but Quillan and I weren’t normal. We had never been normal.
“No offense,” I joked, “but Miro is pretty much the least authoritative name I’ve ever heard.”
He offered me a crooked smile and then looked down at one of his papers, falling silent while he neatly annotated sections of whatever he was reading. I sipped more of the coffee to busy myself.
“Well call me whatever you like then,” he eventually said. “I don’t really mind. Outside of school, of course.”
“I’ll call you Bossman, that way you still get a little bit of status.”
He was shaking his head, but he seemed amused.
“It’s better than Cabe’s nickname,” I offered.
“Oh?”
“Lucifer.”
Quillan laughed. “You got that one pretty spot on.”
“Damn straight, Bossman.”
“I think you should lose this playful side,” he said casually. “Between you and Cabe, I’ll never get any work done.”
I looked down into the distorted reflection of my face swirling in the coffee, unsure how to respond. “I’ve seen your foul-mouthed side,” I finally spoke up. “Only fair you saw my playful side.”
I stood from the chair and hesitated in the doorway, on the precipice of another question. In the end, I stole his coffee mug and said nothing. It wasn’t until I set the mug onto the t
able beside Noah’s piano that I realised he had effectively distracted me from the question I had asked him.
I played through the one song that I knew, slowing down the tempo a little to make it softer, and changing a few of the notes until it sounded more melancholy. I was astounded with the instrument: how only a few keys could change the tone of a song completely. As it neared evening, I put myself through another shower and was halfway through dressing—the yellow dress snagged around my hips—when the door swung open behind me. I jumped, spinning around to face Noah. His regard of me was so rapid that I almost missed it, and then his eyes were fixed on my face hard enough to make me flinch.
“Noah?” I was too surprised to do anything but say his name, as though him being there might have been a trick of the light.
He kicked the door shut and stepped further into the room, advancing on me as the electric force of his gaze kicked into full power, the familiar gravity of his presence becoming so heavy that it was almost stifling. I backed up suddenly and smacked the small of my back into the edge of his desk. He grabbed my shoulders and spun me around, a cool hand covering the spot on my spine that now hummed with pain.
“D-don’t,” I whispered. The itch of unnatural sensation was spearheading from his fingers and spreading over my skin, merging with the thrum of pain and causing black spots to flick over my vision. The occasional wing of light flirted with the splotches of black, reminding me to stay aware.
His hand fell away but his chest brushed my back, his head leaning against mine. He didn’t seem to be breathing. “Why not?” he eventually asked, the words faint enough that I had to strain to hear them.
“I think I start to lose consciousness or something when you touch me. Not just you, the others too.”
He backed away rapidly and I spun in time to see the pain that flickered over his expression. “That’s not…” he struggled, turning to tug his hands through his hair. “God dammit.” He strode for the door and almost wrenched it from its hinges.
I pulled my dress the rest of the way on and then sat down on the bed, burying my head in my hands. “Anyone else want to see me without clothes on?” I muttered into my palms.
9
Piercing Insecurities of Parting Inferences
I stared at the door, my encounter with Noah washing back over me in a worrying blur that was comprised less of memory, and more of emotion. I pushed off the desk, half-heartedly fixing the dress, and then just stood there… weak-kneed and frustrated. The little flecks of light lingered in the dullness of the unlit room. Noah and Cabe had called it valcrick, but I was pretty sure it was electricity, or lightning… or anything other than an ancient power belonging to an even more ancient race of people that might not even be people but definitely weren’t aliens. I wished they would give me a book so that I could do some research, because that was all I had to go on.
I stepped into my shoes, combed the tangles from my hair with my fingers, and walked out of the room. There was a note in the kitchen instructing me to go down to the lobby and head out to the bay. I guessed that the party was down there. I took the elevator down and exited the lobby on the bay side, finding myself in a short stretch of parkland that led down to the water. I ignored the people milling about and followed one of the trails, needing to jump out of the way for groups of guys barrelling past with beer kegs, and couples that had decided the trail would be a good place to showcase just how drunk they really were.
I tried not to look like my teeth were being pulled out one by one, but parties really weren’t my kind of thing, and I was sure that a painful expression persisted. Though, I supposed that a high school party was better than the gatherings my father occasionally hosted. Those mostly consisted of creeps who had run out of money and were taking advantage of my father’s almost comatose state to finish whatever liquor there was in our house—after following him home, of course.
When I reached the waterfront, I found the bulk of the people: most of them were hanging around picnic tables, and some had driven cars down to the water and were sitting on top of them. A Hummer was blasting music, the sound echoing eerily off the bay. I looked around, feeling lost.
When I spotted the blond girl—Kat—that always seemed to be glaring at me or flirting with Cabe, I decided that she would be a good guess to follow, and sure enough, she led me right to the edge of the water, where Cabe and Noah were sitting on a table, watching people dance nearby. A girl I didn’t recognise was hanging off Noah, and he seemed bored by whatever she was saying to him—though that may have just been a permanent expression for him, while in public. Kat made a beeline for Cabe, and I watched her slide onto the bench next to him. He ignored her. She put a hand on his leg and he half turned his back on her to speak to Noah. I took a few steps closer, placing myself behind some guy who was big enough to block me from them. Luckily, he was too drunk to pay much attention to me.
“You really don’t take a hint, do you Kat?” It was Noah speaking, and his voice was cutting, but also amused.
Kat answered him with her middle finger, and I shifted further out from behind the big guy, as she slipped her arm through Cabe’s. “He liked it well enough last weekend.”
Cabe heaved a sigh, disentangling himself. “Must we really go over this again? I don’t have a problem with you sitting here, but this is getting kind of embarrassing, Kat.”
Kat pushed out a pout, leaning forward to lay a hand over his chest. “You’re just all frustrated because your little freak won’t put out for you.”
Was that really all they cared about?
I slipped into view, my steps measured, my body language unconcerned, and the boys noticed me immediately. They didn’t look outwardly happy to see me, but Noah relaxed slightly and Cabe’s mouth twitched in an almost-smile. The girl hanging off Noah scowled; Kat was oblivious.
“I can make it better, you know…” Kat seemed hesitant, and there was a pleading undertone to her words this time. “I’m sure your friend won’t mind.”
I watched them, unsure how to react, and Noah tilted his head slightly, indicating Cabe. I focussed on his toffee eyes and took the last few steps to reach him, touching his knee softly. I found my own actions strange, especially since I couldn’t decide which was the cause for my unease—Kat’s preoccupation, or Cabe and Noah’s harsh way of dealing with her.
“Hey, Lucifer.”
He smiled and my stomach flipped slightly, an emotion uncurling within me, like his pleasure was a direct invitation for me to also feel happiness.
“Kat,” he said, still watching me, “you’re in Seph’s seat.”
She got up without another word and ran into the nearest throng of people, disappearing from our view. Cabe moved over and patted the seat between him and Noah. I got up, but my underlying discomfort at the party atmosphere remained. The other girl was inching closer to Noah, and I couldn’t help but liken them to a pack of hyenas, creeping in the moment I turned my head. Cabe reached behind him and pushed a beer into my hand. I glanced at it, tightening my grip on the bottle. It was cold; I’d never had beer before. I took an experimental sip and decided that I neither liked it nor disliked it. Our table started to fill up with other kids, and I recognised some of the faces that sat at Cabe and Noah’s lunch table at school. Most of them had foldup chairs, and they arranged them in a semi-circle facing the table. Cabe joked and laughed with everyone but Noah was quiet as usual.
I finished my beer and hopped up from the table, asking Noah where the bathrooms were.
He pointed to a public toilet block and got up. “I’ll take you.”
I shook my head. “I’ve got legs.”
The tightening of his mouth indicated that he wanted to argue, but he sat down again. The bathroom was crowded and I was forced to squeeze between other bodies to get to a stall. After I was finished, I spilled outside with a group of girls falling over themselves and giggling, and had to disentangle myself from one of them, since she had drunkenly mistaken me for one of her f
riends, and was clinging to my arm with surprising strength.
“W-wait Shalleee.” She made a grab for me, elongating the mumbled name, which I assumed was supposed to be Sally. “You’re my drinking bishh, come back!”
I pried her fingers from my arm and turned her by the shoulders, giving her a little push in the other direction. She stumbled into one of her friends and they teetered for a moment on their heels. I reached out and grabbed a handful of the girl’s dress so that they wouldn’t topple to the ground, and then left them once they regained control… if clutching each other and giggling hysterically could be construed as control.
“Hey!” A voice to my left drew my attention and I glanced over as someone jogged to my side. It was the boy with sandy blond hair and smiling brown eyes; Cabe had called him Garret.
“Hello,” I answered, still walking.
He fell into step with me, moving so that his arm brushed mine. I pulled away a little bit. For some reason the contact had immediately sent an unpleasantly jarring feeling through me.
“I don’t usually see you at these parties.” He cast his gaze over my dress, and I suddenly hated the store clerk for recommending it.
“How many could they have had?” I asked.
He laughed. “Honey, they’re new to our school but their parties are infamous—most kids in Seattle have been to an Adair party.”
I felt a shiver of discomfort at that, but I didn’t bother to examine why. I picked up my pace and Garret wound a hand around my bicep, pulling me up.
“Hang on just a second, would you?”
I tried to pull my arm away but he held tight. “What do you want?” I spat out.
“You shouldn’t be hanging out with those guys, you know. They’re bad news.”
“You don’t even know me.”
I saw a little bit of colour rising in his face. His fingers tightened. “Just watch out for yourself, alright? The Adairs might act like they’re celebrities, but they have enemies. Plenty of enemies. They’ve claimed you now, so you’re going to have enemies too.”
Charcoal Tears Page 11