by Kristie Cook
I had two text messages, one from Cora and the other from Eirik. He must have gotten a new phone or salvaged his old one. They were on their way. I still had to finish my AP English report, but my heart wasn’t really in it. It was my birthday, and I wanted to do something fun with my friends.
After a quick shower, I changed into a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, grabbed my laptop, and settled on my window seat before I remembered Torin. I found myself studying his house. The white slats covering the windows were closed. I wondered how he knew things like the light signal. Could he really do magic? Stupid question. Of course not. Magic wasn’t real.
To prove it, I called DC Tires. No one remembered seeing a guy fitting Torin’s description at the shop or any scratches on my car. Maybe he’d sneaked by them and fixed the scratches when they weren’t looking. Why should I care whether he’d lied or not? If he wanted to pretend he could do magic, that was his problem. Pushing the matter aside, I went online and started my rounds.
First, I stopped by the website of Flight 557 and checked the latest news. There was nothing to give me hope. Next I checked my e-mails and stopped by social and book-related sites. Usually going through new releases, fan fiction of my favorite books, and checking which books were being turned into movies held me spellbound for hours. This time, I kept glancing out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of Torin.
Annoyed with myself, I moved to my bed and forced myself to stay there even when I heard his voice mingle with Mrs. Rutledge’s annoyingly chipper voice. Just because I was bored didn’t mean I had to spy and eavesdrop on my neighbors. When the doorbell chimed, I sighed with relief, closed my laptop, and ran downstairs.
RUNES
“Happy birthday,” Cora sang when I opened the door.
“It’s almost noon,” I griped.
“I know. Sorry.” She hugged me. “How does it feel to be seventeen?”
“The same way I felt yesterday,” I said. My eyes met Eirik’s. He stood behind her with a gift box tucked under his arm, his Nikon in his hand, and a sheepish grin on his face. “Is that for me?”
He lifted it out of my reach. “Yes, but you can open it later. Where’s your T-shirt of Shame?”
I slipped out of Cora’s hug and pointed at the front of my T-shirt. “Right here.”
Eirik peered at the writing. “Are you kidding me? What language is that?”
“Latin.” I grinned.
Cora read the writing and laughed. “Good one, Raine. I knew you’d find a way around it. It was a ridiculous idea to begin with.”
“Why? Because you weren’t qualified to participate?” Eirik asked, smirking. He gave me a hug. “Happy birthday.”
“Just so you know, we’re late because of him.” Cora pointed at Eirik.
Eirik crossed his arms. “How is it my fault?”
Cora glared at him, then focused on me. “You know my parents took my keys, right? I didn’t have a ride and made the mistake of calling him. He mumbled something and hung up on me.”
“I did not,” he protested. “The phone fell and before I could call her back, she called and started yelling. She sounded like a crazy person, so I turned off my phone. When I got to her place, she took forever to get dressed.”
“I so loathe you, Eirik Seville,” Cora ground out.
Eirik smirked. “You so adore me, Cora Jemison. You’re just pissed I got Raine a present and you didn’t,” he said the last word in a sing-song. “So, what’s the plan, Raine?”
I sighed. I hated it when they fought. It was senseless.
“We’re going to the mall for her present,’ Cora answered before I could. She looped her arm through mine and pulled me away from Eirik. “I’m tired of buying you books. Every time I get you something else, you gush, and I never see it again. And he refused to tell me what he bought you.” She glared at Eirik.
“Because it’s none of your business,” Eirik retorted, going toward the kitchen. The kitchen was his favorite place in my house.
“Did you hear something, Raine? I thought I heard a buzzing sound.” Cora dragged me toward the stairs. “Why don’t you change, so we can leave?”
I glanced down at my T-shirt and sweat pants. “What’s wrong with my clothes?”
“Everything. It’s your birthday. Spruce up a little. Even Pretty Boy,” she waved toward Eirik, “dressed up for the occasion.”
“I heard that, Smarty Mouth,” Eirik called out, his head inside the fridge as he searched for leftovers.
“Dressed up” meant Eirik wore a dress shirt instead of his usual threadbare T-shirts. His trademark black canvas and trendy, ripped jeans were the same. I stopped, forcing Cora to stop, too.
“We’re going to have a little chat.” I gripped her arm and led her to the kitchen, where Eirik was selecting a large, shiny apple. He rubbed it on his shirt. “You too, mister. Focus on me.” They stared at me expectantly. “It’s my birthday, and I won’t put up with your crap. No snarky remarks for the rest of the day. Get it? You two will be nice to each other if it kills you.”
Cora stared at me with big eyes. “Wow.”
“Not the response I’m looking for, Cora.”
She raised her hands in surrender. “Okay. I’m not going to let him get to me.”
“Good.” I turned and cocked my brow at Eirik.
“Fine. She starts it, you know,” he added, then took a large bite of his apple and chomped on it. Cora huffed and moved to the window.
I shot Eirik a warning look and mouthed, “Be nice.” He rolled his eyes. “Now that we have an understanding, can I open my present?”
He pushed the box out of my reach on the counter. “Not yet. What do you have to eat around here other than apples? I smell eggs.”
“Mom cooked some this morning. Birthday breakfast.”
Eirik shuddered and made a face.
At the same time, Cora said, “Was it edible?”
The two had slept over at my place often enough over the years and tried Mom’s cooking. I wagged my finger. “No wisecracks about her cooking either. She tried and that’s what counts. Let’s head downtown to the Creperie for lunch, then the video store to pick up a movie for tonight, and then the mall.”
“What is it this time? Another Vampire Diaries marathon?” Eirik asked with a pained look.
I frowned. “I thought you liked Vampire Diaries.”
“Yeah, you said Elena was hot,” Cora added with a bite, but she was still staring outside.
“She is,” Eirik said. “But the way she moons over the brothers? Not so hot.”
I rolled my eyes. “I was planning on Supernatural.”
The cheer I’d expected when I mentioned the hit series about two brothers who hunted demons was missing. Instead, Cora turned and exchanged a look with Eirik, who shook his head. My gaze volleyed between them. “Okay, what’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Eirik said quickly and selected another apple from the bowl. “The Winchester boys and pizza sound great.”
“You can’t lie if your life depended on it, Eirik. What is it?” I narrowed my eyes and shot him the same look Mom often gave me when she wanted me to confess.
He pointed at his mouth, which was full, then at Cora.
Cora glared at him. “Coward. Okay, Raine. This is the problem. For the last two years, we’ve celebrated your birthday in front of the TV eating pizza and cake.”
“Three years,” Eirik corrected and took another lusty bite of the apple.
Cora nodded. “Yeah, three. This year we’re doing something different.”
I blinked. “We are?”
“Yes. We’re going to L.A. Connection,” Cora said.
“Dad would never allow …” I remembered he wasn’t around to say no. “I don’t know. I’ll have to ask my mother.”
“Call her and see what she says,” Cora urged.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to go to a club. “Can I at least think about this?”
“No,” Cora and Eirik said at the same
time.
Okay, they were serious about this. I knew a lot of teens hung out at L.A. Connection on weekends. Even Cora often went with Keith. Eirik wasn’t big on the club scene, but maybe he didn’t go because of me.
“Okay.” I picked up the phone in the kitchen, which was near the window and glanced outside. Torin was raking leaves. No wonder Cora kept staring outside.
“Yummy, isn’t he?” Cora whispered.
He was, but I couldn’t say anything with Eirik close by. I speed dialed Mom’s number. “Mom?”
“What is it, sweetheart?”
“Can I go to L.A. Connection with Cora and Eirik tonight? Just for a couple of hours,” I added.
There was silence then, “Just a second, hun.”
The others watched me eagerly. I made a face and turned toward the window as I waited. Torin had stopped raking and was shoving leaves into large garbage bags. He paused to wipe his brow, then lifted the bags and carried them to the curb like they weighed nothing, his walk graceful. As though aware he was being watched, he pivoted on his heel and looked toward my house. I turned my head before he could catch me watching him.
There was still silence on the line. “Mom?”
“Okay, Raine. We’ll give this a try and see how it goes. You don’t leave until I get home, and you must be back by eleven. No going anywhere else but the club and no drinking.”
I rolled my eyes. “Yes, yes, no, and I don’t drink.”
“I know, but peer pressure can make kids do crazy things. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”
I put the phone down. “She said yes.”
Cora rushed to hug me, hopping with excitement. Eirik lifted his camera. “Smile.”
I forced a grin, and he snapped pictures. Me in a club? This was going to be interesting.
“Can we go now? I’m starving,” Eirik said.
“Give me a second.” I ran upstairs, changed into skinny jeans, ankle-length boots, and a light jacket. I was about to leave when I glanced outside. Cora and Eirik were talking to Torin, their laughter filling the air. No, Cora was laughing while Eirik looked uncomfortable. What were they discussing? Not that I cared.
Suddenly, Torin looked up and stared straight at me before I could duck out of sight. My heart tripped. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. A tiny smile tugged the corner of his sculptured lips. Then he shifted his attention to Cora. I blew out a breath I hadn’t known I was holding. Not sure whether to join them or not, I headed downstairs and waited until Cora and Eirik were on their way to the Jeep and Torin was back to raking leaves before I went outside.
“What’s going on?” I asked. Despite my vow to ignore Torin, he fascinated me.
“I’m starving,” Eirik grumbled again.
“You’re always starving,” Cora teased from the back seat. “I wanted to meet your sexy neighbor. Torin St. James. Even his name is sexy. He’s going to our high school, starting Monday.”
Once again, my traitorous heart reacted, but I faked disinterest. “That’s nice.”
Eirik mumbled something that sounded like, “It’s not.”
I glanced at him and frowned. “Have you met his parents?”
“He doesn’t have any,” he said in a tone that was hard to describe.
“Everyone has parents, silly,” Cara said and pushed Eirik’s head. “He’s a senior, relocated here to be closer to a friend. He didn’t say what friend. I wanted to ask him whether he meant a girlfriend, so I could hate her. Have you seen his eyes, Raine? Gorgeous. Sapphire can’t begin to describe them.”
Eirik snorted.
I angled my body so I could see both of them and signaled Cora to stop with the gushing. She gave me a naughty grin that said she was just messing with Eirik. Seriously, she could be so childish sometimes.
***
Lunar Creperie was packed, the aroma of fresh crepes, pastries, and coffee in the air. Located a block from my high school, the restaurant was a popular hangout for students. Kayville was home to three high schools—two public and one private Christian school. Ours was the largest and the only school located in the historic downtown Kayville, so we owned the Creperie as we often called it.
Well, not owned owned. We just acted like the place belonged to us. We had our corners, the jocks and the cheerleaders, the preppies, the Goths and other rebels, and the swimmers slash band geeks—that was us.
“Hey, Seville.” Tim Butler, a curly-haired guy, who played tenor saxophone in the band and was a backstroker on the swim team, waved us over. He was with his girlfriend and two other couples. We staked the table next to theirs and went to place our orders.
A prickly feeling told me we were being watched, so I turned around casual-like and gave the room a sweeping glance. My eyes met the topaz pair of Blaine Chapman, captain of the football team. Blaine was already being courted by scouts across the state. He forked his fingers through his wavy brown hair and gave me his famous I-know-I’m-hot smile before glancing down at his girlfriend, Casey Riverside. Casey was head cheerleader and the girl guys fantasized about and other girls would love to hate. Only no one could hate her because she was so nice and sweet. Blaine and Casey were Kayville High’s perfect couple.
With them were two blondes and a guy with silver hair, all of them strangers to me. They were staring at us. I checked behind me to confirm it. Yeah, Cora, Eirik, and I were the only ones at the counter placing orders.
Cora stayed behind to talk to a friend, and Eirik went to get our drinks. As I walked to our table, I glanced at the strangers again. Their gazes didn’t waver from me, their expressions hard to describe. Unease slithered up my spine.
Throughout lunch, I was aware of their eyes on me. I tried to ignore them, but it wasn’t easy. They left the Creperie before we did, but as soon as we stepped outside, the feeling of being watched returned. It continued while we were at the mall, yet every time I checked, I couldn’t see anyone.
“You okay?” Cora asked when we entered a jewelry store.
“Yeah, why do you ask?”
“You keep looking around as though you’re searching for someone.”
“I have this weird feeling that we’re being followed.”
Cora frowned. “By who?”
“By whom,” I corrected and winced when she glared at me. “I don’t know. Let’s just get done here and go home.”
But it was another hour before we left the mall. By then it was close to four, time for Ultimate Frisbee. Eirik was still at A2Z Games, and we had to practically drag him out of there. We headed toward Longmont Park in North Kayville.
In the last two years, we’d had about eighty swimmers vie for spots on the varsity team, and this year was no different. About fifty students were already waiting at the park when we got there and more continued to arrive. A third of them were new faces fresh from junior high. I recognized some from the Silver and Bronze teams at my club.
Longmont Park was one of the many parks in and around Kayville. It had a ballpark, a playground, fields used by Kayville Rec Center for recreational sports, and park pavilions for barbecues and parties. Today, like most Saturday afternoons, it was busy with families. We parked on the road and started for the pavilion where Coach Fletcher and the other students were already waiting.
“Raine Cooper.”
I spun around and frowned when Blaine waved.
“Wait up,” he said as he sauntered toward me. With him were the three strangers from the Creperie. Up close, the girls with their blonde hair and light-blue eyes looked like they could be sisters. The silver-haired guy had dark-brown eyes that almost looked black. Something about him gave me the creeps. I gave a tiny smile, happy that Cora and Eirik had waited with me.
“Raine is co-captain of the swim team and the fastest butterfly swimmer,” Blaine said, surprising me. I had no idea he knew anything about me. He turned and flashed his mega-watt smile at Cora. “It’s Cora, right?”
She blushed and nodded.
“Her best stroke is …?” He cocke
d his brow.
“Breast,” Cora said with a giggle.
Blaine snapped his fingers. “Right, breaststroke. And what do you do, Seville?” he asked, staring at Eirik’s camera.
“I’m the towel boy,” Eirik said even though the swim team didn’t have towel boys. “The most important person on the team.”
Cora threw him an annoyed look. I barely kept a straight face.
“Think you’re funny, Seville?” Blaine’s famous topaz eyes darkened. He made a face, ignored Eirik, and pointed at the guy with him. “Andris Riestad. Maliina and Ingrid Dahl. They’re exchange students from Norway and plan to join your swim tea—”
The loud purr of a Harley engine filled the air and cut him off. We all turned to stare at the biker. Dressed in all black—jacket, jeans, boots, and helmet, he turned onto the road that cut through the east and west fields and rode toward us. I frowned. Usually, you heard the sound of a motorcycle from afar; then it grew louder as it drew closer. This one had started suddenly as though it had appeared from thin air.
The guy parked at the curb and removed his helmet. Torin. I should have known. He ran a finger through his raven hair, our eyes meeting across the students staring at him. A spasm kicked my chest, and warmth rolled through me.
A low growl came from my left, and I turned to find the source. Andris Riestad was staring at Torin with hatred, mouth turned up, eyes narrowed. But what had me gasping were the weird tattoos on his hands. They spread to his arms and disappeared under his rolled up sleeves. They appeared on his neck, then on his cheeks and forehead, the ends of each tattoo disappearing under his hair. They’d started gray and darkened until they were black, the contrast between them and his skin striking.
I turned to see if the others had noticed, but everyone was staring at Torin. One of the Dahl sisters, Maliina or Ingrid, I couldn’t tell which, turned and gave me a quizzical glance. I gave her a stiff smile, my gaze shifting to Andris.
She realized what I was staring at and grabbed his arm, drawing his attention to the markings on his skin. She whispered something in his ear. He studied me curiously. The tattoos faded fast as though he’d pulled an eraser switch. He smiled and winked. The girl looked at him then me, her expression changing and becoming thunderous.
