Watched (The Watched Trilogy)

by Cindy M. Hogan

  “Where are we going?” I asked, trying to ignore the fact that he could feel me shake.

  “To my room, where we can have some privacy.”

  I stopped in my tracks and the shaking stopped as I pulled him to a halt. He swung around to face me.

  “I’d rather go somewhere else,” I said.

  “Oh, okay.” He was quiet, probably thinking about where to go. “Maybe a conference room is open. Let’s go grab the elevator.”

  Some strange, hunched over old man stood in the elevator. Not the friendly kind of old I was used to, but the mean-old. His beady eyes seemed to bore through me. When we hit the lobby, I hurried out.

  Luckily, the first door of the first conference room we tried opened. Rick offered me a chair and pulled another one around and sat, facing me, our knees almost touching. He smiled at me, but I couldn’t smile yet, I was too nervous. My heart pounded so hard I was sure it bruised my ribs.

  Rick didn’t even wait a few seconds before saying, “Why did you run like that? What happened? I don’t know what’s worse, you running away from me, or you avoiding and ignoring me after we kissed.” His eyes looked adoringly at me.

  Man, he went straight to the point (just like with Kira), and the dagger in my heart dug deeper and twisted. Silent, I searched for a way to speak the truth, but I could only think of lies. Not to mention how distracting his lips were; I found it hard to look away from them. He was so genuine and forthright, I didn’t deserve the look in his eyes. He tried to lay everything out on the table, and I searched for a way to hide from the truth.

  Stop looking at his lips, I kept telling myself. He deserved an answer, but my mouth was so dry now that I couldn’t imagine talking. It felt like an hour had passed since he asked me why I had run and yet he still sat across from me, silent.

  He didn’t break eye contact. I felt exposed and wondered if he knew how much I wanted his soft lips to touch mine again. I had no right to them, no claim, but I still wanted them. Nervous, my mouth felt full of cotton.

  I turned my head to try to hide from his searching eyes, but he reached up and with a firm gentleness turned my face back to his. How could such soft hands be so strong? I guess I couldn’t hide.

  He moved his fingers gently over mine, glancing down at our hands.

  “Christy, talk to me please.”

  Every time I looked at him, my lips tingled and my heart raced. I tried to pull it together, to give him the answers he deserved; but instead, I started to lean ever so slightly into him. Luckily, he was far enough away, that my leaning was not enough to bridge the gap between our lips.

  Somehow I pulled back, the voice in my head screaming that I wasn’t being fair to him. He hadn’t been my first choice, but it felt so good to be with him, and I wanted more of it. He did look good and I loved the way he cared for people. His kindness seemed unshakeable. At that precise moment, he was the one for me. I felt tingles deep inside. My chest burned.

  I opened my mouth, but nothing came out. Rick straightened up in his chair, expectant. “Christy, just tell me. Talk to me.”

  I closed my mouth and swallowed, hoping to bring moisture back so that I could speak. I smiled.

  “I don’t remember the question.” I squeezed his hand.

  He let out a big sigh.

  “Christy.”

  “I’m sorry,” I tried to explain. “I’ve had so much on my mind, I’m not thinking clearly. I’m so nervous.”

  All true statements….

  “Why did you run?” he repeated.

  He looked so vulnerable and my heart broke and yet thoughts of Alex jumped back into my head. Why was I still thinking of Alex? I looked at my knees and just started talking, “I’ve just never kissed anyone before, and I freaked out. I didn’t know if I should be kissing you or not.”

  When he didn’t respond right away, I dared a glance up. He leaned back, laughing softly. I crinkled up my nose and scrunched my eyebrows together pulling my hands from his. He looked at me, and I looked away.

  There I was, telling the truth and he was laughing at me. It couldn’t have been worse.

  “No, no. Christy, stop,” he said.

  It bothered me that my pain pleased him so much. I started to feel small, and instead of feeling sorry for him, I started to feel sorry for myself.

  He reached back over to grab my hand, and I pulled it away.

  “No, Christy, you don’t understand. I’m not making fun of you.” He got a very serious look on his face, all play gone. “When you told me about not dating until you were sixteen, I should’ve remembered that you hadn’t ever been kissed. I probably shouldn’t have kissed you, but it was so perfect there; for our first kiss. And you standing there, so kissable and all.”

  My heart jumped and I felt the kiss all over again.

  “I like you,” he continued. “And I wanted to show you. It’s hard for me to imagine being uncertain about that kiss, because it was amazing in every way, and I can’t seem to get it off my mind.” His eyes wandered to my lips. “And now, knowing it was your first kiss, makes it even better. I like the idea that I was your first kiss and at this moment, all I can think about is being your last kiss.”

  Sincerity oozed out of him, and I felt a spark and wanted to push forward and kiss him, but I held back and instead, said, “But we barely know each other.” My feelings were a jumbled mess.

  “Well, we can start getting to know each other right now. I want you to feel sure, and I’m willing to wait.” He stared, eyes blazing. “I will wait for you, Christy, however long it takes. I want you to feel good about us.”

  Us? There was an us? A flipping motion filled me. How could there be an us when he lived in upstate New York and I lived in Montana? I felt nervous and searched for a clock. It was quarter to eleven. I had to get going. Why did I care about Alex when Rick was right here with me?

  “What do you think, Christy?”

  What could I say? It was all so reasonable and I didn’t have any more time. I bit my lip and looked at him. I couldn’t help but wonder why this great guy wanted me. No one had ever wanted me before, so I said, “Okay.”

  “Let’s get out of here. If tomorrow’s going to be anything like today, I’m sure we need all the sleep we can get.” He could be so practical. Part of me was sad that he hadn’t tried to kiss me again.

  As we walked back to the lobby, I looked all around, afraid of running into Alex. What would Alex think if he saw Rick and me heading for my room right then?

  Luckily, I didn’t see anyone on our way. Rick leaned in and kissed me on the cheek, long and soft. I felt heat linger even after he left.

  I needed to focus. I was about to be with Alex.

  Chapter Fourteen

  My frizzy hair stuck out all over the place. Blasted rain! Why hadn’t Rick told me I looked like a freak? How could anyone like me with hair like this? A pony tail would have to do. It wasn’t the hairstyle I was sure people wore to clubs, but I had no time. I tried to make it look more stylish, like Kira and Summer always managed to do, leaving strands of hair framing my face.

  My clothes were the bigger problem. I couldn’t wear long pants and a button-up shirt to the club. In fact, nothing hanging in my closet here would be good to wear to the club. Thanks to TV, I imagined people in clubs wearing skirts for some reason. I thought of waking Marybeth, but I really didn’t have time for that, and I’m not sure she would want to help me at the moment, and she could try and talk me out of going to the club. I really didn’t want that. A cute skirt and top that Marybeth had worn flashed across my brain. Should I borrow it? I opened the bathroom door slightly, to let in a little bit of light. I looked over at Marybeth, her breathing even. Would she care? She’d loaned me so many things over the last week. Surely, she wouldn’t mind. She had so many clothes, she probably wouldn’t even notice. But, should I?

  A faint voice in my head said, “No.”

  I could clean it and return it before she even knew.

  “Wake
her up and ask her,” the voice in my head said.

  She’s sound asleep. I could just tell her in the morning. I took one last look at her and decided she wouldn’t care if I raided her closet even though my stomach was on fire. Deep down, I knew it was wrong. But I did it anyway.

  With the little bit of light coming from the bathroom, I could barely make out what was in Marybeth’s closet. I used my hands to feel for the skirt and shirt she’d worn.

  I grabbed two pieces that I thought were them and crept back to the bathroom. What luck! I had grabbed the right skirt, wrong shirt, but I thought it may have actually been a better choice anyway, and I put them on as fast as possible. They fit without any tugging or pulling.

  Was I as skinny as Marybeth? No way. I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face.

  I looked at Marybeth’s open closet door and felt a pang of guilt. I glanced down at Marybeth’s clothes on my body and took a deep breath.

  She wouldn’t want me to wake her. It’ll be okay. She would want me to look good for this, I convinced myself.

  I had left the bathroom light on and hurried to turn it off, then reached into Marybeth’s open closet and took out a pair of shoes. One more thing wouldn’t matter. They’d be back before she even woke up. My face felt hot. I carefully closed the closet door while looking in Marybeth’s general direction, and with great care, opened the door to the hallway and stepped out.

  I slid the shoes on as I tried to run the short distance to the elevator. I don’t do heels. I stumbled the entire way, hoping I wouldn’t break an ankle on my lucky day. I tapped my foot impatiently during my descent to the lobby. I was late.

  Please let Alex be there still. I tried to look natural leaving the building and felt that by the time I hit the doors, I was walking considerably better, and had found my balance in the heels for the most part. Alex stood at the bottom of the steps, more hot than ever. His eyes sparkled when he saw me, (or I imagined they did) and he walked up a few steps to meet me. I was all fluttery inside, and my mind went blank, so I simply smiled.

  “Christy, you made it,” he said, as he grabbed my hand. Shock waves spread up my arm from his touch. The warning I’d been feeling, silenced.

  Was this really happening? I had to ask myself over and over. Then a terrible thought crossed my mind. Was this a set up? Were they going to take me somewhere and make a fool out of me, like kids at home had done? I pushed the thought out of my mind, remembering the sparkle in his eye and seeing the cab waiting for me.

  The back door was open, and Alex held it. I heard that voice in my head saying, “Danger, danger.”

  “Sorry I’m late,” I said, trying to look sincere while blocking out the voice in my head.

  “No worries, Christy,” he said, leading me to the door. I climbed in, only to find I sat next to Summer. She gave me a crusty look and said, “Ugh!” turning to face Josh, who sat on the other side of her. She immediately started whispering to Josh, who leaned just enough to the side to have one of his eyes peer over at me. Definitely not a set up. She would have been delighted to see me if it had been.

  To my relief, Alex opened the front door and climbed in next to the driver. He turned and winked at me. I smiled, sighing quietly.

  We drove to the club in Georgetown and a long line snaked its way to the door. I wondered how long we would wait, only to have them deny me entrance. I was only fifteen, after all. I stared at my shoes. What if they didn’t let me in? What if I was the only one they didn’t let in? I felt all shaky inside.

  We didn’t stop at the end of the long line, though; we went straight up to the steps that led to the door. A guy with spiky, sandy blonde hair and super tan skin, who was part of another mini-group at our hotel, talked to a very large man with short-cropped brown hair and a stern face, who blocked the door. Josh walked right up to the guy with spiky hair and spoke with him for a minute, giving a him a cool-looking handshake and then glancing at me. He waved us in. The large man stepped to the side, completely ignoring us, scowling over the ever-expanding line before him. Relief spilled over me. They didn’t stop me. They didn’t even look at me.

  Inside, the guy with the blonde hair said, “You guys are late. It’s about time.” Josh punched Alex as the guy waved to the cashier, who signaled for us to go through a second set of doors. The moment the second set of doors opened, deafening music crashed into my ears. I resisted the urge to cover them. What was I doing here?

  I couldn’t believe what I saw. It was like walking onto a TV set. The large room felt a bit cramped, packed with all sorts of crazy looking people. Don’t get me wrong, they were the beautiful people, only they were contorting their bodies in such random ways, they looked almost fake as the multi-colored lights passed over them—like an animated dance video. Most girls were super-skinny with short, short skirts or dresses that had necklines that plunged to their waists in either the front or the back. I could see more skin on a lot of them than clothes. I felt way overdressed.

  The guys, in contrast, were mostly dressed, with jeans and tight T-shirts. The dance floor itself was semi-dark with bursts of light from several spotlights moving about. Instead of going down the few steps needed to get the dance floor, we turned left and climbed some stairs. At the top, round tables surrounded by chairs and even a few couches filled the space. Our tour friend led us to a table with a reserved sign sitting in the middle of it. He smiled at us and then moved on to the next table, joining five others that I recognized from our question and answer sessions with Mrs. J.

  Alex offered me a chair. The one couple already sitting at our table, hit knuckles with Alex, while Josh leaned over to the guy and punched his arm in a playful gesture. I guess they came from the tour too, I just couldn’t remember them.

  Alex leaned into me, putting his lips next to my ear and said, “Isn’t this great!” My heart skipped a beat.

  I nodded, trying to convince myself that it was. I had really gotten myself into a jam. What was I thinking when I said yes to going to a club? I never thought I would ever go to a club my whole life and here I was.

  Alex started talking and my worries vanished. I couldn’t help but notice how good he smelled. I breathed in to capture as much as I could. His cheek, resting on mine, sent tingles throughout my body.

  “The owner of this club is Zach’s Uncle,” he said. “Zach’s the guy who met us at the door with the spiky hair. We’re pretty lucky to be here. Encha is playing here tonight, so they’ll have a packed house.”

  I wondered who Encha was.

  “Cool,” I said. I felt like I had to scream for him to hear me. Then I felt him take my hand. At the feel of his touch, I had to take a quick breath in.

  A waitress bent over to talk to Josh and Summer, and write their orders on a small piece of paper. She came over to Alex, they talked, and then she scribbled something down and walked away. I felt hot and needed something to drink. Summer leaned over to Alex, and they talked and laughed for a few minutes. He held my hand tight as he leaned into her.

  The next thing I knew, the waitress set everyone’s drinks on the table. She placed a skinny glass filled with a red liquid in front of me, and Alex had what looked like a beer, amber colored liquid with foam on top. It must have been fake beer or something, I told myself. What was the red stuff in my glass? It couldn’t be alcohol, could it? No way. We’re minors. Sure, I could see them letting us in to the club, but to serve us alcohol would be going too far. Wouldn’t it? I stared at my drink, not daring to ask what it was.

  Summer’s glass was the same as mine, skinny, with red liquid. She lifted her glass toward the middle of the table, and Josh and Alex brought theirs up to meet hers. Alex motioned for me to do the same. My heart raced. What should I do? I picked up the glass, trying not to visibly shake, and softly tapped my glass against theirs. My insides burned.

  They all took a sip from their drinks. I had never drunk before, and stared at the red liquid, still wondering if it was alcohol. The voice in my head
warned me not to drink. I shouldn’t have come. How could I get out of this? The others looked at me, as if they were watching to see if I would drink it. Alex even nodded at me.

  Here’s the thing: I’d promised myself that I would never drink. No one in my family drank alcohol, and it scared me. I didn’t want to lose control of myself or become an alcoholic; but they were watching me. How could I not? I also knew that if I drank, my choices after that would be limited forever, just like the kiss that I could never take back. I would never be able to say that I didn’t drink. I would be a drinker forever. My stomach burned.

  In a last second decision, I pulled the glass to my lips, but instead of drinking, I pursed my lips against the glass and pretended to drink, tipping the glass up and pretending to swallow. I put the glass on the table, and they all smiled and took another drink. I mimicked them, except I didn’t really drink any of it. It smelled sickly sweet, yet somehow fermented. Yuck! My lips were sticky and I didn’t want to lick them, but after a few minutes, I had to. They tasted sweet. Great. I’d tasted alcohol. I wished I had some water. I never should have come here, but I couldn’t leave now, Summer would have a heyday with that.

  Everyone at our two tables stood, in unison it seemed, and headed for the stairs. I stood as quickly as I could, trying not to look out of place. Alex stood behind me with his hands on my waist, pushing me gently forward. It tickled and made all my nerves hyper-active.

  The dance floor was more than crowded, it was packed now. Alex crammed us in the middle of a bunch of people we didn’t know, and we could barely move. So much for worrying about how I danced. I was being pushed and bumped on every side, and I wondered why people thought this was fun. Alex wrapped his arms around me and grinned. He loved this. I felt his whole body against mine, and I blushed. Our heads leaned together, and we just sort of swayed, like dancing to a slow dance, without the slow music. I now knew why people liked this. It felt amazing to have him so close to me.

  Sweat dripped down my back, which intensified the fact that my mouth was incredibly dry. We danced, or rather moved to a few more songs and then I couldn’t take it any longer, my tongue even felt dry. I didn’t want to go back to the table and the alcohol, and I certainly didn’t want to ask him to buy me water. I felt trapped. Then I thought of a way around it—the bathroom. I told him I needed to go the bathroom, and he responded by grabbing my hand and leading me off the dance floor.