Golden: A Paranormal Romance

by Ellis Marie

  After successfully managing to convince Linda to let us have another day off school, we have now been forced to return. I suppose she has to be an adult sometimes.

  As I’m staying at Kristie’s, I picked my outfit from her collection. Although her clothes aren’t my usual attire, they’re certainly a lot comfier. Wearing them feels almost like a warm blanket wrapped around me. It’s the first time in a long time that I just picked what I wanted to wear, and not what would make me look the best.

  I sat and stared at everything, my heart hammering as I imagined Matt’s reaction to any of the outfit choices, but after about an hour of me hyperventilating and Kristie reassuring me, I had chosen a big, loose white T-shirt dress, a denim jacket, and a pair of ankle boots.

  So simple, so comfortable, and so me.

  Kristie braided my hair into a large braid that falls over one shoulder, and she used some of the shorter hair at the front of my face to cover up the fading bruise on my cheek. That, along with some light makeup, means that it isn’t easy to spot. It’s the freest I’ve ever felt at school.

  “Elle!” a voice calls. For a moment, I panic. My feet stumble at who it might be. When I see the familiar head of ginger hair walking towards us, I relax and open my arms, throwing myself at them as soon as they’re a step away.

  “Cam,” I breathe, wrapping my arms around his waist as his circle my shoulders. He nuzzles his head into the top of my hair as he breathes in deeply.

  “God, I was so worried about you,” he mumbles, his voice soft with concern. I have to stop myself from tearing up, he always made me feel right at home. He pulls back as he looks at me, his eyes travelling down my outfit, widening when they get to the bottom.

  “Elle, you look amazing,” he breathes. I feel the blush pushing on to my cheeks before he gets back to my eyes. “Really! This is . . . the best I’ve ever seen you look.”

  Kristie steps in, rolling her eyes as she pulls us apart, chuckling under her breath. “Sorry, I thought I would at least get a hello?” she jokes. Cam smirks, locking an arm around her neck as he pulls her into him while rubbing her hair with his knuckles.

  “You know I love you.” He chuckles as she attempts to push him off her, complaining. I stand watching them with a smile on my face.

  Kristie told me that she texted Cam about what happened and the situation with everything; he knows better than anyone what’s going on, but he had to work and so he couldn’t come over. Not that I totally minded, it’s nice to just spend time with Kristie at hers for once, plus Cam has enough going on in his life without me adding to the issues.

  “So, Elle,” he begins, finally letting our best friend go and wrapping an arm around each of us. “How are you feeling?”

  The question isn’t one I expect, and I don’t exactly know how to respond.

  How am I feeling?

  “Good,” I answer uncertainly before correcting myself. “Nervous.”

  Cam smiles, squeezing my shoulder. I relax a little knowing I had support. “Don’t worry too much, you’re doing what’s best for you and that’s nothing to be scared of.”

  I smile in response, my heart calming a little at his words. We arrive at my locker, the people around me forgotten as I chat with my two best friends. Their laughter and jokes distract me from the stares.

  When I close my locker after retrieving my books, I look past Kristie and Cam and at the sea of people behind them, all chatting and milling about, making their way to classes. When far behind them at the entrance to the school, I see a head of pale blond hair, my heart stops and my blood runs cold.

  “Guys, can we go to class?” I interrupt hurriedly, my heartbeat hammering in my chest as I grab Kristie’s arm, my eyes not leaving the figure heading in our direction. “Please.”

  Kristie looks at my panicked expression and doesn’t even need to turn to know. She immediately just nods and grabs her own books, quickly linking arms with me as she drags me away. Cam follows behind silently, his glare shooting back at the person.

  The hall seems so crowded, and the three of us can’t push through completely as people press against us. When we hear the shrill sound of the bell echoing through the halls, my panic rises as does the amount of people trying to move.

  “Move, move, move!” Kristie yells, attempting to shove people out the way, but by doing so, she only manages to squeeze herself through. Suddenly, she and Cam aren’t beside me anymore, and my eyes are beginning to go fuzzy as I spin around looking for them.

  No, no, no, please, no.

  My fingers tingle as my palms become sweaty. I continue to try and push through the people around me, their bodies pressing against me in a way that makes my lungs constrict. I try to look for somewhere where I can breathe.

  Am I having a panic attack?

  With eyes wide, I claw through the mass of people, apologies tumbling from my lips as I try to see which direction I’m going in, but everything seems to be blurring into one. The drumming in my head along with grumble of everyone around me makes me lose my orientation. I clutch at my neck, wrapping my fingers around the necklace as I struggle to stay standing, my body flinching every time a flash of blond appears in my vision.

  I manage to push out of the crowd. My back bashes into a locker, the metal clang making a couple people look at me, but no one stops to help. Instead, they all begin to whisper as they continue to walk past. Their voices all start echoing in my head.

  “Is that Annabelle Williams?”

  “Has she gone crazy?”

  “Did Matt break up with her?”

  “God, she looks a mess.”

  “Does Matt know she’s like this?”

  The voices all keep crashing down on me. I close my eyes, trying to block them out as I sink against the metal. I crouch down a little as I try to push away all the negative thoughts swimming in my head.

  Please stop.

  My books clatter to the ground as both my hands clutch at my chest and around the warm crystal hanging from my neck.

  Please stop, please stop.

  “Elle?” a low voice asks, but I don’t open my eyes, my fear being that my mind is just playing tricks on me.

  “Elle,” it says again, this time closer. I feel someone stop in front of me, their body covering me from the gazes of passersby as their arms circle me, pulling me into them. As soon as their fingertips touch me and their scent washes over me, my whole body relaxes and I fall into them, my head spinning.

  “Shhh, mi reina, shhh,” he hushes, stroking my back. It’s as if he blocks out all other things around me. “Listen to my heartbeat. Focus on that. Just breathe, mi reina. Breathe.”

  I do as he says and cling closer to his chest, squeezing my eyes shut as I listen to the rhythmic pounding of his heart. I place my own hand over it, feeling the vibrations under my touch echo through me.

  After a moment, I pull away and open my eyes, only to see a large chest. I slowly look up with a soft smile gracing my lips. A rough hand comes out and cups my cheek gently.

  “Good morning, Trent,” I breathe. He smiles down at me as he watches me carefully.

  “Good morning, Elle,” he replies. “Feeling better now?”

  I nod, embarrassment taking over at the fact that I’ve just had a small panic attack in the middle of school in front of everyone. My eyes dart around, looking for people, but there’s only a few stragglers mingling around. The rest must have gone to class.

  “I don’t know what happened,” I murmur, my voice shaking. “One minute I was with Kristie and Cam, and the next I couldn’t move, and people weren’t moving. I’ve never had to push through a crowd like that before, and I saw him and I just—”

  Trent cuts me off again by taking my hands away from my face and bringing them to his lips, shaking his head as he does.

  “It’s alright, mon ange, you’re fine. You did well. I’m proud of you.” His lips softly press against the skin of my fingers, and my stomach clenches in reaction. My heart is now pounding in
my chest for a different reason.

  I can’t take my eyes off him as his breath breezes over my hand and his nose brushes against my knuckles, his eyes unmoving as he stares down at me.

  “You certainly have all the languages in your vocabulary,” I tease, clearing my throat. His smirk is clear even from behind my hands.

  “Only for you, liebling.”

  I can’t help but laugh at his words. He smiles back before lowering our hands and glancing around.

  “Shall we go to class?” he asks, motioning to the empty halls. I realise that my first class of the day is English . . . with Trent.

  I smile softly and nod, bending to collect my books from the ground, but before I can, Trent’s arm stops me. He’s already picking them up and stacking them on top of his. I blush as he stands up and smiles, switching them into his far away arm while his other rests gently on my back as it guides me forward and down the hall.

  “You know I can carry my own books,” I mumble, looking around and wondering if anyone is watching us.

  “I know you can.” Trent smirks as we turn another hall. “However, I enjoy the blush that covers your cheeks whenever I do something for you far too much to let the opportunity slip away.”

  I glare down at the ground as I feel the heat spread over my cheeks again, much to my dismay. Trent chuckles, noticing it. Like he notices everything.

  “You are so easy to make blush.”

  I glare at him and stick my tongue out. “I am not,” I argue defensively.

  “Oh, well then.” Trent smirks, opening the door for us to enter the classroom. “Perhaps it’s just around me then?”

  My eyes widen at his words as well as the wink that he sends in accompaniment. I quickly duck under his arm and into the awaiting classroom, refusing to let him see how my cheeks have turned an even deeper shade of red. I quickly head for my seat, grateful that our teacher isn’t here.

  Inside the class, I immediately find Kristie who rushes over to me and wraps her arms around me, the sigh of relief evident when she pulls back.

  “What happened to you? We lost you and then I was going to come back and get you, but Mrs. Howard had already seen me and basically dragged me into the class—”

  Kristie’s words are cut off as she looks behind me and my whole body tingles when I feel his presence, his chest almost touching my back.

  “Trent,” Kristie comments, shooting me a look. “Fancy seeing you here.”

  I roll my eyes at her words and shoot her a warning look as a smug grin coats over her features.

  “Nice to see you too, Kristie,” he responds with a warmth in his voice that heats me to my core. “Apologies for Elle disappearing. I saw her struggling in the crowd and dragged her out of it. I didn’t want her getting knocked and that bruise on her face getting hit.”

  The lie passes through his lips so smoothly that I can’t help but look up at him in awe, the warm feeling radiating over me again at a temperature at least ten times higher, and my breath catches in my throat.

  “Oh, well then, that’s totally alright,” Kristie replies, watching the two of us. “Thank you, Trent.”

  He nods briefly in response, and Kristie looks as though she is about to say something, but Mrs. Howard chooses that moment to enter; I’ve never been happier to see her.

  “We better sit,” I say quickly and walk past Kristie, heading to my seat in the corner. It’s like I have a sensor for Trent because, without even looking, I can feel him just two steps behind me.

  I settle into my seat as Mrs. Howard begins to talk to the class, her voice booming through the room. Trent leans over to me, my books appearing on my desk.

  “Thank you,” I whisper to him, knowing that he knows that it’s not just for the books. As always, I’m thanking him for much more than that.

  He doesn’t do anything except smile and tip his head in my direction to let me know that he’s heard me. He shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the back of his chair before leaning back and listening to our teacher.

  Although I try to listen and pay attention, my eyes keep getting drawn back to Trent. After about the fifth time of purposely looking away, I just let myself stare for a moment as I take him all in.

  It’s the first time that I’ve actually looked past his rippling muscles and really looked at the tattoos on his arms that are peeking out from underneath the material of his shirt.

  The symbols swirl over his skin as though they’ve been painted on. I notice a few phrases etched in with them, but none of them are fully visible and they all seem to be in a different language, so I can’t understand them.

  He turns his head in my direction ever so slightly. I quickly look away, unconsciously flying my fingers to my neck and wrapping around the pendant hanging there, my breath hitching as I try to calm it.

  Don’t think about how good he looks. Don’t think about him in any way other than an English partner.

  The orders in my mind don’t work very well, and I can’t help but look at him again, training my eyes in on his lips that are softly parted as he concentrates intensely on the screen at the front of the room.

  I feel my own lip curl into my mouth as my teeth gently bite it. A flush rises up my neck as I glance at his biceps, watching them tense. My fingers clutch to the necklace like I’m trying to clutch onto my own self will.

  God, how I wouldn’t love for those lips to—

  There’s a sound of snapping and I’m broken out of my daze. It takes me a moment to realise what the sound is, but when I glance down at Trent’s hands that are resting on the table, I realise that his pencil is snapped in two and his fists are curled tightly.

  He lets a sound out of his mouth as he reaches down to his feet to retrieve a new one, and as he does, his shirt rises and the flesh on his back is revealed.

  I gasp at the amount of ink on the small piece of skin that I can see, and he seems to realise because he shoots back up into his seat and he grits his teeth. His hand pulls down the material, fixing it back into place. I turn my whole body back to the front of the room, not wanting him to see my curious expression.

  After a moment of him staring at me, he turns back to the front and continues with the class, his fists still clenched and body tense, but I manage not to look at him as I stare down at my work. My mind is replaying what I’ve seen.

  Even from the bottom of the tattoo, it seems obvious as to what it is. The outline is unmistakable and the shape only looks like one thing and one thing in particular. On Trent’s back, I swear he has a large tattoo of a wolf.

  Mrs. Howard’s lessons are never boring, but for some reason, this one is particularly difficult to pay attention to. Perhaps, it’s because Kristie and Cole keep laughing at something between them every two minutes, or maybe I’m just not a fan of The Crucible. Or maybe it is because all I can think about is Trent.

  “I would now like for you two discuss with your partners the themes in this play and what the story revolves around in your own opinion.”

  I turn from Mrs. Howard and look at Trent, clearing my throat as I open the book on to a page and pretend to scan the words. I hold my breath as I try to think of something to say.

  “So I think that a theme in this book is honesty,” I start but the noise that emulates from Trent’s throat stops me. ‘Something wrong?” I ask, raising an eyebrow. He watches me, his eyes filled with humour.

  “No, not at all. I just disagree.”

  His shoulders shrug so easily that it almost annoys me, and I frown at him.

  “It is about honesty; it’s about being true to yourself and being honest, no matter what the consequence is.”

  And sometimes, being honest can be pretty difficult.

  “Well, the way I see it, is that the whole story revolves around survival.”

  Flexing his arms as he sits back in his chair, I scrutinize him, waiting for an explanation but he remains silent with a small smirk on his lips.

  “What’s with the wolf tattoo on your b
ack?” The question leaves my lips without me even realising. What I’ve said only registers when Trent’s smirk drops, and he looks at me with eyes that pin me to my seat.

  “What?” His voice is low as if he’s containing a growl. I feel myself sit back slightly, twisting my hands together. I try to grab a thought swirling around my head, but it’s as if they just keep slipping through my fingers and I’m frozen, blubbering, with nothing but air leaving my mouth.

  Trent leans closer, grabbing my chair and pulling me into him. He only stops when our chairs lightly clink together, our breath hitting each other.

  “Why did you ask that?” he whispers. My heart feels like it is about to pounce through my chest and run to the other side of the room. “Elle, why did you ask about the tattoo?”

  My eyes dart between his two golden ones, the light in them looking as though it’s shining brighter as he asks me. Luminescent lights.

  “I-I don’t know,” I stutter, still trying to figure out myself why I said anything.

  He doesn’t move after I answer. Instead, his hand holding my chair clenches and I can hear the squeak of material as he does, his jaw tightening.

  “But why won’t you answer?” The question hangs in the air between us. His eyes widen in surprise, his body frozen.

  He is now the one to be lost for words. I watch him carefully, trying to figure out what is going on inside of his head, but it’s almost impossible. His face is like a statue, his eyes don’t even flicker as he stares at me. I feel myself lean into him, being pulled in by the feeling I constantly have around him . . . of wanting, of longing.

  What is he hiding?

  “Miss Williams, Mr. Night, would you care to share your views with the class?” Mrs. Howard’s voice snaps me out of the trance that Trent always seems to put me in. I pull back from him, turning to look at the rest of the class who I now realise are watching us with curious expressions on their faces.

  A few chuckles dot around the room. Cole and Kristie look like they’re trying to contain their laughter, but my eyes are on the older lady at the front of the room, who has an expectant but stern frown waiting.

  “Of course,” I begin, clearing my throat again as I clasp my hands together and scoot away from Trent, pretending to look at my book. “We were just discussing how we have differing views.”