“Alright. You girls be safe and do not get into any trouble. I’ll see you tomorrow morning. You young ladies know the rules.” She stands and piles the empty dishes on top of each other. Hopeful eyes meet mine when she asks, “You’re okay today, Tracey?”
“Yes, Mom.” I take a glance at Glen still stuffing her face and mouth to Mom, not now. I shake my head. It is hard for me to explain to Glen what had happened, so I avoid the conversation altogether.
“Well, good.” She nods once. “You two get to bed so you can be up early.” She kisses my head and places the dirty dishes on top of my empty plate. “Tracey, when Glen’s finished, put the rest of the food in the containers and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher. Love you,” she calls out as she walks to the stairs.
“You finished eating yet?” I scoot my chair back as Glen shovels another forkful. “You’ve been throwing food down your throat since my mom placed it on the table,” I joke.
“Well, she can cook and considering my mom never cooks, I need to take full advantage of this opportunity.” She smiles as she finishes her last bite. I take the plate from her so she doesn’t have to move. “Thank you.”
“Yep.”
After I finish cleaning the kitchen, we wash up for bed and head to the family room to set up our blowup mattresses.
We lay down, and Glen sighs. “So . . .” she carries on, “do you think I can try Scott?”
I lift a brow. “Try him? What is he, a new candy?”
“No, Cey. You know what I mean. I don’t know. It’s . . .” she takes a brief pause and flicks her gaze to the ceiling, “something. It’s not just that he looks good. We all know Scott’s a hottie, but his mature attitude, and the way he acts and responds to things.” She shakes her head. “It’s everything about him.”
I lay on my stomach and stuff a pillow under my chest. “Why haven’t you told me you had a thing for Scott? With the way you’re talking, this attraction isn’t something new.”
“I guess it’s not. I’ve kinda always liked him, but thought he was out of my league.”
“No way, Glen. If any guy thinks or even says that to you, he’s not the guy for you anyway. And Scott’s super nice and nonjudgemental, he’d never think that.”
Glen’s covered in freckles and her golden brown hair drapes all the way down her back. She was chubby when we were younger, but now she’s curvy and knows it. This thing with Scott is messing with her confidence.
“Thanks, Tracey.” She smiles and her freckles bunch in the creases of her grin. “So, I didn’t realize I wanted to, maybe, have a relationship with him until a couple weeks ago when I passed him in the hall. He was in his own world. Mr. All About Business. That was when I really noticed him, his perfectly built physique, his assertiveness, and that dimple in his chin. He looked like he’d just come from gym dressed in a black tank and black and white basketball shorts.” She smiles, eyes closed. “Well, he was glistening in all his sweaty glory and ran his hand through that wavy hair as he passed me, saying wassup, Glen. He gave me the sexiest crooked smile. It stopped me right in my tracks.” Her eyes shoot open, and her gaze shifts around the room as she blushes. “A week ago, I was running down the stairs on my way to counselor Malden’s, and apparently, I’d forgotten how to walk. I might’ve missed two full steps, and right before I could hit the floor and break my face, he caught me. Quick as lightning. Mr. Prince Charming, there to save my life.”
She goes on, and I cross my ankles, not missing a word. From her fiddling fingers, brightening eyes, and an excited smile, it’s wild watching her swoon over our childhood friend. This has gone far beyond friendship for her.
“Now, every time I see him or think about him, my stomach knots and my freaking hands sweat. He looked in my eyes and it changed everything. It’s a need. I need to be with him.” A teeth-revealing grin steals her face as she replays her memories. “I will not graduate high school without going out with Scott at least once.”
“You definitely should. And since we’ll be out for Spring Break, you’ll have plenty of time to go on at least one date.”
She stares into space, not giving me a second thought. I smile to myself, letting her have a moment. I can relate to her, the looks, the change; the only thing she’s missing is the fire. The craziest part is that her guy is my guy’s cousin.
What am I saying? My guy? Jeez!
“Glen!” I snatch her out of her trance, gaining a wide-eyed glare from her. “I’ve been talking to you while you were daydreaming in Scott Land. Wait, Scotland!”
She rolls her eyes. “Really?”
Laughing, I manage, “Let’s go to sleep, Glen.”
“You’re right,” Glen says, pulling the sheets back. “I’ve been having these weird dreams about him too. I can’t get him off my mind!” She pauses. I lock eyes with her. Her every word echoes in my ears. That has to be just a coincidence. “Do you think he’s thinking about me like this? It seems so girlish to be dumbstruck over a boy, like the other girls in school, hot over Scott. I doubt they’re experiencing what I am.”
“Unless they all say that,” I joke. But . . . “Yeah, I know exactly what you mean.”
A crease forms in between her brows. “How? What guy other than Michael have you ever been crazy over?”
I pull my curls into a bun and quickly say, “None. Nothing. And I was not crazy over Michael. Never bring him up. His name is forbidden. I just mean I get it, about having something stuck in your head.” Even though she’s told me her crush story, I can’t share mine. There are parts of my situation I don’t understand: swirling eyes, burning touches, weird dreams, weird conversation.
“Okay. Well, I’m tired. We’ll finish talking tomorrow. Thanks for letting me stay over.”
“Of course.”
Glen’s head hits the pillow, and she’s out like a light. I wish I had it that good. Climbing beneath the sheets of my blowup mattress, I snuggle up and stare at the dark ceiling, waiting for sleep to claim me.
The instant my mind blanks, soft knocks sound against the front door, sending a shiver up my spine.
obsessed
I climb to my feet, scraping my nails over the prickling flesh of my arms. A puzzling sensation starts in my toes and works its way to my neck; it’s powerful and demanding, forcing me to investigate. My hand shakes as I grab the cold doorknob. I crack the door open and peek out at the late-night visitor.
“Hey, Tracey.” There’s a sigh. “It’s Nathan.” My heart stutters as I widen the door to the familiar voice. I meet peaceful brown eyes and am flushed. “Sorry for stopping by so late. I wanted to make sure everything was okay with your car,” he says and throws a glance over his shoulder. “I came by earlier, but you weren’t here.”
The freedom I regained earlier dissipates and again, I succumb to this dynamic need that’s been transgressing since we met. “Um. Uh, yeah.” I clear my throat. “Yes, everything is fine. My friend and I were at the mall. I drove it to school, and I didn’t see or hear anything out of place.” I smile, flattered by him dropping by and checking up on me.
“You two came back here together?” The right corner of his smile falls and forms a devious smirk. “You girls having a sleepover?”
I sneer at his tool-ish remark. “No.” I roll my eyes. “She’s just staying over, and we’ll go to school together in the morning, and then to a party. She’ll probably come back over here after―” I snap my mouth shut to stop me from blabbering my entire life story. What the crap is my problem?
“Cool.” Nathan leans his shoulder against the door panel and his head tilts, causing longer strands of hair to brush his temple. He’s got a unique cut where the hair at the top of his head is longer, but the side and around the back is tapered. I like it. It fits his sharp cheekbones and chiseled jawline. He licks his lips and his gaze locks on mine. The shadow over his eyes darkens his mellow expression and makes me think about what Scott had mentioned at school.
“Would you mind if I ask you a person
al question?”
Skepticism washes over his narrowing eyes. A rigid tone takes his voice when he answers, “Well, it depends. I didn’t come over to stay long, and seeing as everything’s okay for you, I’ll be on my way. Cool?”
I grab the back of my neck and work the intensifying pinch from it, trying my best to bite back my grumble. Is he being an asshole on purpose, or is chivalry making a comeback, and he only wanted to check that the car came out okay, not me? It’s possible I could be reading too far into this, and this attraction is a one-sided. Breaking our eye contact, I drag my gaze away from him to the luminous pearl hung over our heads. I sigh heavily through my nose. He sure has a way of dodging my questions.
The first full moon of spring draws on my tiredness, and I can’t hold back the yawn parting my lips. My eyes cloud and a whine escapes. “Crap. That wasn’t cool.” I clamp my hand over my mouth.
“Nah, I’m just boring.” Nathan crooks his finger behind the heel of my hand and tenderly pulls it away from my face. His knuckles brush over my cheekbone, swiping my fallen tear. I turn my head and lean into his elusive touch. “Someone’s sleepy,” he drawls, hand falling away. “Go back to bed, Tracey. Sorry I bothered you this late.”
He pivots, and I snatch his hand back. I want to let him go, but can’t. A blazing scatter of pricks and pinches skate through my hand and up my arm. Following the unusual burning is a cultivating comfort, and then a fulfilling happiness. Even though I resent my actions, touching him makes everything . . . right. Not my touching, our embrace. The air smells of magnolias, I’m light as feathers, and my heart holds a steady beat. It’s the perfect temperature and my body is humming with so much thrill I want to smile. But I don’t.
“Wait,” is all I can muster, overwhelmed by the overpowering sensations his touch gives me.
Nathan turns back, head hung low, gaze on our hands. It’s hard to see his face with the moonlight behind him, but I make out the light in his eyes when our gazes meet. His reflects my same desires. But his mouth says, “Tracey,” in a whisper, “don’t.”
He says a lot, without saying anything at all.
“I’m-I’m s-sorry,” I stutter as his hand slips from my grasp. The wind’s knocked out of me, and I hold my breath, waiting for the sense to pass.
Nathan coughs once. His foot drags the ground as he steps closer, discontentment in his brooding expression. “No, Tracey, don’t be sorry. I don’t want to hold you up any longer. You’ve got school in the morning.” His bottom lip twitches and his brows knit.
“Nathan, what are you trying not to say?”
He cups my face in his left hand. Heat radiates beneath his palm against my flesh. “Don’t, Tracey,” he says, rubbing his thumb back and forth against my cheek. “I can’t. I’m sorry. I just can’t.”
Strings tug at my heart as my worries and insecurities fade without my causing it to. I close my eyes and rest against his touch. Please, I beg, inundated by warmth surfing through my neck, down to my chest. It burns and aches, and I realize he causes the discomfort I experience when he’s around. It’s worse when he’s gone, unbearable, but when he is near—this close—it’s warm and bolstering.
I press my hand to his, wanting to feel him under my touch. The experience lasts for only a second before his hand slips away again, and like the last leaf falling from an oak tree in the fall, I’m empty and cold.
“Bye, Tracey.”
I shake my head. “Why come by? Why are you here? Give me something,” I demand, trying not to raise my voice as I’m consumed by an overbearing numbness and irritation that’s replacing what was once comfort.
“Go back in the house and go to sleep, Tracey,” he says with a dismissive wave, seeming bored and ready for me to turn away.
I stand, my offense reflecting in my regard. It’s unnerving and tormenting, his complete disregard and this unfulfilled need. I can’t explain it, but I know he makes it better . . . But then again, he makes it worse, and I don’t know why I would want something this confusing, but I do. “You’ve not answered me. Why?”
Nathan takes me by my shoulders. “No. Okay? Accept the no.” He turns me around, and beside my ear, he whispers, “I don’t want to make this worse for you. Good night, Tracey. I’m sorry again, but no.” He places the softest kiss to the slope of my neck. “There’s your something.”
I’m nudged in the house and the door closes behind me. I back against it with stalling heartbeats, and then slide to the floor, listening to his truck start and drive away. At this point of desperation, I’m sure I’ve lost my mind. When I lay down, Nathan’s lips stalk my skin, his eyes haunt the darkness behind my lids, and his elusive words crowd my mind. I hate that I’m like this, and I can’t get over it. I hate that I’m like this because of him.
It takes me forever to fall asleep. I toss and turn, thinking about all the things I shouldn’t, trying to fight it. I can’t remember when my heart started beating normally again, but as my aching heart flutters, I shiver, once again in pain.
I jar awake, clutching at my chest, scared out of my mind by Glen’s alarm screaming a song by Fall Out Boy.
She jumps up, slapping the floor until she finds her phone to cut the alarm off.
“Why is that your new alarm?” I ask her. “That would give me a heart attack every morning!”
She shrugs. “I love them.” Beaming, she croons, “Awe, Tracey,” falling back on the bed. “I’m such a mess.” She hides her red-turning face with her hands. “I dreamed of him again.”
“Scott?”
She nods.
Of course she did. Just like I obsessively spent all night thinking about Nathan. “It’s okay,” I say, considering how embarrassing this is. “Maybe you need to talk to him, be around him, and share a moment with him without him wanting to leave. Maybe you didn’t get enough, and every ounce of you knows it. So, you want more. Maybe that one touch just wasn’t enough, or looking into his eyes as he saved you from breaking your face on the stairs . . .” My circumstances play back as I try to make sense of it all. “So, your body is telling you it wants him, just as much as you think you do.” Even when you deny it. Even as it makes little sense. “It makes you crave his touch. Your desire clouds your head with images of him, and he haunts your dreams. Your eyes deceive you every time you close them, and your ears play tricks on you, making you believe he’s right next to you by playing his voice repeatedly in your mind. It sucks, it really sucks, but that’s how it is. It’s weird as hell and freaking unnatural.” And worse, you only met him a day ago, Tracey! I shake my head, throwing myself back on the blow-up mattress. My head hits the pillow gently, but my chest hurts horribly. How can I want something I’ve never had? Or want someone I don’t even know?
“Um,” Glen starts, “yes. Exactly.” She crawls over and lies on my mattress, propping her head on her hand. “How would you know?”
My eyes widen as I stare at the ceiling, realizing what I’ve said. “Huh?”
“Tell me the truth, Tracey. Do you like Scott too?”
“Eww, no!” I say, turning up my nose. She flinches. “Not saying there’s something wrong with him,” I hurry to say. “I’m just not attracted to him. He’s cute, though,” I add for her comfort. “Just not the guy for me.”
“Okay, so spill! Tell me what’s going on. You know exactly what I’m feeling!” she says with eager eyes, as if she’s expecting me to give her the secrets of the universe.
I battle over telling her or not. Glen’s not all that open-minded, and if I talk about color changing eyes and heated caresses, she’ll shout about aliens and how I need to stay as far away from Nathan as we are from Asia. I don’t know Nathan well enough to defend him, and I’d prefer to not get into an argument about what mythical creatures can force you in love before even knowing the other person’s last name or favorite food.
I sit up and cross my legs, resting my elbows on my knees to prop my chin on my hands. I sigh uncomfortably and say, “That guy all the girls were tal
king about at school yesterday, he hit my car after I left you and Ray.” I tell her everything with the exceptions of my uncertainties and his showing up here last night.
“Okay, he sounds hot,” she says, smiling from ear to ear.
“Yeah,” I carry. “He is. And he’s Scott’s cousin.”
Her smile widens, stretching shoulder to shoulder. “O-M-G!” she squeals. “Are you serious?”
“Yes, but Scott told me to stay away.” I adjust to sitting on my knees, overwhelmed by her sudden excitement. “Said he’s against it. All this time we’ve known Scott, I’ve never known him to have any relatives. Especially one that looks like Nathan, and he’s putting on restrictions. Hell, Nathan’s putting restrictions on himself!” I roll my eyes. “Glen, he’s a nice guy. Like, really nice. I mean, he’s got this cocky attitude at times and this annoying ‘no, not me’ thing going on. But it doesn’t null my attraction.”
“The ‘too bad to be good for you’ kind of thing?”
I shrug, uttering, “I guess.”
Glen jumps to her feet. “Forget that. You’re too cute to be rejected. He may be about to leave for college or something and doesn’t want to get into anything serious.” She goes on and on about Scott this and my guy that, and ignores my request for her to cool it. While her assumptions make sense, school doesn’t seem like that’s our disconnect. There has to be something else. Every time she says his name, my stupid heart spasms. When it flutters, I ask it, how can you beat for a stranger, and it responds with a thrashing of pounds, wanting me to rip it out and hand it to him. As if that were at all possible.
Glen goes on with possibilities of double dates and combined weddings as we get ready for school. I can’t take another word.
“Glen,” I cut her off as we head out to my car. “Stop. Okay? It’s bad enough he’s on my mind all day. I don’t want to talk about him too.”
Plight: A Dark Paranormal Romance (The Sephlem Trials Book 1) Page 4
