First Project

by Jennifer Rose McMahon

  Then my eyes shifted along the numerous rows of wooden pews to the front corner of the church. Two people sat, huddled in the shadows, whispering in deep concentration.

  I froze, not wanting to disturb them in whatever they were discussing. Their intensity vibrated off of them and struck me in the heart. Whatever they were talking about, it was emotional and heavy. The burden weighed on me instantly, and I struggled to get a full breath.

  I took a step closer in curiosity, and my foot thumped the wooden edge of a pew, sending a tremor through the expansive space.

  The two people shot their attention to me in surprise, and I stood without a flinch, staring into Shane's eyes.

  Chapter 10

  A twang of shame shot through me as Shane stood and walked up the aisle toward me. I hadn't meant to interrupt him—especially in such a sacred space.

  And now I wasn't even sure why I had walked into the church in the first place. It was none of my business what Shane did with his free time, but it just took me by surprise that he'd be the religious type. I couldn't help but think he had gone in there for something else.

  "Hey, what are you doing here?" he asked, taking my elbow and leading me back into the foyer.

  I turned to look at the man still seated in the first pew in front by the altar. He watched us with a peaceful smile.

  "Sorry," I whispered. "I didn't mean to interrupt you. I saw your car, and I was curious to see what you were doing." I shook my head and put my hand over my eyes.

  "Really?" His eyebrows lifted.

  Oh, great. Now I looked like I was stalking him. Shit.

  "Well, I don't know. It just didn't seem like the type of place you would typically go." I fumbled on my words. "And I was in no hurry to get home."

  He huffed. "What? I don't look like a faithful believer to you?"

  I shrugged one shoulder. "Not this type of believer." I glanced around at the religious icons.

  "Touché," he said with a nod. "You got that right. I have a friend here. I like to stop by for a chat once in a while."

  "A church friend?" I teased.

  He narrowed his eyes at me. "The minister, actually. He's a good guy. Old family friend."

  He took a step closer to the door.

  "Oh, jeez." I grimaced briefly from my poor choice of words. "Sorry I interrupted you two."

  "No worries. We were done anyway. I never stay for very long. It gets... challenging." He pushed one of the big black doors open. "Come on. Let's get out of here."

  We moved down the massive marble steps and onto the pavement. I glanced in the direction of my house, not wanting to have to go there.

  Shane watched me, then turned his attention to his car, jingling his keys. "Wanna go for a coffee? There's an awesome cafe in the square."

  The temptation was huge. I hesitated for a second, not wanting to send him any mixed signals, and then realized, it was fine. Of course we could go for coffee. And we had so much to talk about, it made perfect sense. And plus, he knew I was a senior, so that would be enough to deter any awkwardness.

  "Yeah, sure," I said, pushing off my annoying inner dialogue.

  He stood taller and grinned.

  "Cool." He clicked his keys, and the car beeped. "Get in."

  I threw my backpack in the back seat and climbed in shotgun. His car smelled like a mix of oak, peppermint, and well, him. The scent opened up my senses and somehow allowed me to know him better.

  He was kind and honest.

  He loved his family.

  And, he was deeply frightened of something.

  The information flooded me, and I held my breath. How could a smell trigger so much information—all of which I knew to be true?

  He turned to me and caught my wide-eyed stare.

  "What?" he asked. "Did I do something?"

  "No, I just... I just got a strange sensation." I continued to gaze at him. "It's weird. Like I can sense things about you."

  "Shit. Are you serious?" He twisted to face me directly. "It's your skill. Like, it's opening up."

  "Maybe." I squinted my eyes, trying to perceive more.

  "Sometimes, in close spaces, it's easier to read a person," he said. "I mean, like now, it's almost like cheating, because I'm pretty good at this, but I know exactly how you are feeling. You don't want to go home. And not just because you need a coffee fix." His face grew somber. "It makes you feel empty inside. Like you're a visitor in your own house. You think you're not wanted there."

  A lump swelled in my throat. I wanted to punch him for knowing so much. He put into words everything I'd felt for a lifetime.

  "How do you know that?" I choked.

  "I'm sorry. I'll stop," he said, twisting front again. He started the car. "I didn't mean to pry." He glanced at me again. "It's just very easy for me to read you right now. I'm not sure why."

  "Clairsentience?" I asked.

  He took a double-take. "Exactly." And then he pulled out of the lot.

  "But the way you put it into words," I mumbled. "Like, feeling like a visitor in my own home. I didn't even realize that." I watched his focus remain on the road, knowing it was really still on me. "Okay. What else?"

  I couldn't let him stop there. He might as well keep throwing the punches. Get it over with.

  He glimpsed at me for a second, then back at the road.

  He swallowed and said, "You feel alone." He hesitated. "And you think if you act like you don't care, it won't hurt as much."

  My air rushed out of me like I'd been punched right in the gut.

  "Okay, stop," I whimpered. "Shit."

  "Sorry. That last part was too easy," he laughed. "The purple hair's a dead giveaway."

  Oh, now he comments about my hair.

  I dropped my jaw and gawked at him. "Are you making fun of my hair?"

  He chuckled. "Um, yeah." He shot a quick glance at me from the corner of his eye, probably checking if I was about to hit him. "I mean, come on, everyone knows that trick."

  My jaw fell open.

  "You asshole!" I swatted at him. "I like my hair."

  "No, I do, too," he apologized. "I'm just saying..."

  "Shut up. Just change the subject," I jabbed. "There's no recovering from that one."

  I couldn't help my smile from spreading across my face. No one had ever called me out on my hair before—at least, not so blatantly.

  And he wasn't wrong. So, I had to give him some credit for his honesty.

  "Sorry. I don't know when to keep my mouth shut sometimes," he murmured. "When the information floods like that, I just can't control it."

  "No, that's actually amazing. You know, your ability," I said. "I'm feeling rather exposed right now, but super impressed at the same time."

  I blinked, attempting to shade any other thoughts or feelings I might be having. If he exposed me any further, I would just have to change schools again.

  "It's also torture," he added.

  My smile fell away, and I glanced at him, waiting for more.

  He continued. "I feel other people's sorrow. Deeply." He glanced back at the church. "As if it were my own."

  Shane pulled into a spot along the town common by the gazebo, and we hopped out of the RAV. I'd been tongue-tied for the second half of the ride after hearing about his burden—feeling other people's grief. It was a horrible sentence to have to live with, and as I stared at the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, I noticed the lines of worry and sorrow around his eyes. He carried it with him, always.

  He stepped off the sidewalk and cut across the green lawn of the town square.

  "Come on. This way," he called to me.

  I followed him, and we walked past a tall monument decorated with small American flags stuck in the ground around its base. He hopped up the steps of the gazebo in the center of the common and moved to the far side of it.

  Curious about what he was doing, I climbed the steps and joined him.

  "It's a pretty town," I said, gazing at the shops around the perimet
er of the square.

  "Yeah, they try to make it look like an All-American town," he agreed. "Like in the movies. But, like anything else, beneath the facade is the truth. And it's not pretty."

  I turned to him and studied his face, wondering what he knew. Probably a lot.

  He glanced at me and shrugged. "Maybe every town has its secrets," he added.

  "I don't know," I said. "I've lived in a lot of towns, and even though this one if by far the nicest, its also by far the strangest."

  He laughed. "Yup. Figures."

  He nudged me to follow him. We hopped off the gazebo and headed toward a corner shop with a sign hanging off the side that said Cafe on the Common.

  "I hope you're not the 'hazelnut' or 'vanilla bean' type of coffee drinker," he joked. "That would be really disappointing."

  "Oh, please. Are you serious?" I rolled my eyes. "I like my coffee to taste like coffee."

  He reached for the door, ready to pull it open, and gazed through the stenciled glass. He dropped his grip on the door and hesitated.

  "What is it?" I watched his face turn ashen.

  I peered through the window and surveyed the inside of the shop. Instantly, my eyes fell on her, and I pulled away from the door.

  Laney was in there.

  I had no idea what was bothering Shane, but whatever it was, I had no problem going somewhere else. Laney was enough to make me lose my interest in one of my biggest addictions.

  "Let's go somewhere else," Shane said.

  "Fine by me," I agreed.

  We crossed back over to the common and climbed back into the gazebo. We sat this time, enjoying the shelter of the sidewalls of the arbor.

  I wondered what had deterred him so drastically from entering the cafe. Sure, my arch-nemesis was in there, but was it possible his was too? Then I realized the scope of her evil and figured she must have gotten her claws into him also.

  "Was it Laney?" I asked.

  His eyes darted to mine and then down onto the wooden floor beneath us. He stared at the names and figures carved into the planks.

  "Yeah," he finally said. "She's kind of a real bitch."

  I huffed. "No shit."

  He lifted his gaze. "Wait, you already know her, too?"

  "Yup. She's in my Lit class, and unfortunately, she goes out of her way to torture me." I exhaled. "I didn't want to go into the cafe either, once I saw her in there."

  He shook his head. "That sucks. I wish she didn't have that kind of power over other people."

  I nodded. But at the same time, I tried to figure out what power she had over him. I mean, he was a year below her, and no threat, obviously, to her queen bee status, so it made no sense that he was a target of hers as well.

  "She's probably threatened by you," he said.

  I pressed my lips to the side and narrowed my eyes. I'd heard that one before.

  "No, seriously," he added, then shrugged. "I guess it doesn't matter, though."

  He was right. It didn't matter why. It only mattered that she treated people like shit and needed to stop.

  "And what does she have against you?" I asked.

  He swallowed as if contemplating how much to say.

  "She has a way of always being there when something goes wrong like it was part of her master plan all along," he murmured.

  I bent my head, waiting for more. Shane looked into my eyes, and the warmth of his gaze told me he was ready to trust me.

  He went on. "It was a long time ago, but the day I went into those woods, on a dare, she was there. She wasn't the one who actually dared me, but it was as if she'd orchestrated the whole thing. And ever since, I've felt her presence, lingering, like she had a hold on me, permanently." He shuddered to shake off the uncomfortable feeling. "She knows it too. I can tell by the smirk on her face any time she sees me."

  Something powerful happened to Shane in the woods that day. Whatever it was, he needed to tell us. If we were going to explore the legend of the Dark Witch, or whatever it was that was going on in there, he would need to tell us what he knew. Especially if Laney had any inkling of it as well.

  "That sucks," I said. "Whatever it was that happened to you in those woods, it sucks that she had any part of it. It only gives her more power."

  "Exactly," he said. "Once she knows a person's weakness, they're fucked."

  My phone buzzed, and I checked it. Dom's name lit up.

  Ur with Shane?

  My eyes widened.

  "How the hell does Dom know we're together?" I blasted, without time to filter my comment.

  "Of course," Shane seethed. "What a prick." He glanced at my phone. "She must have seen us and texted him."

  "What? Why?" I shook my head at the absurdity.

  "Hell if I know," he barked. "She thinks she owns him and uses him like a puppy dog. It's painful to watch."

  I shook my head. "I just don't know why she cares so much." I looked over the sideboard back toward the cafe.

  "She cares...," Shane started. "Because she knows more than she should." He glanced around us, then whispered, "She's dangerous."

  There was only one thing to do, and that was to get out of the town square, asap. Hanging out anywhere in the vicinity of Laney was a definite no.

  "Let's go somewhere else then," I nudged him. "Away from here."

  His eyebrows lifted at my suggestion. "Where?"

  "I don't know. Back to the entrance to the woods?" I suggested. "Not to go in, or anything. But just to see it again, in full daylight this time. I want to see if that weird fog is still there."

  Shane bit the skin around his pinky nail. "Yeah, okay, I guess."

  His apprehension was obvious, and I assumed it must be from his bad experience there. Or maybe he thought we should only go there with the others. Either way, I wanted to hear more about what happened to him in the woods that day, and this was the best way I could think of.

  We headed back to the car and made no attempt to hide the fact that we checked over our shoulders more than once to be sure Laney was nowhere to be seen. It was annoying how she had so much control over us, but at this point, we weren't willing to fight the invisible battle. Instead, we hopped into his car and did our best to forget about her as we blasted his playlist as loud as it would go.

  Within minutes, we were pulling up to the parking area at the edge of the woods. I turned off my tracker on Snap by instinct. It just seemed like the right thing to do. I barely used the app, but that didn't stop me from knowing it was the best stalking tool around.

  "Shut off Snap maps," I told Shane. "We don't need any of the others stalking us and finding out we came here again without them."

  "Good call," he said, fiddling with his phone.

  We climbed out and walked over to the benches.

  Before we even sat down, he murmured, "I used to have a crush on her."

  His discomfort with the statement oozed from his shrunken posture.

  I shot my attention to him. "Who?"

  "Laney."

  My gut twisted. I wasn't sure why, but it annoyed me to the core that her power was able to go that far.

  "Shit."

  "I know," he huffed. "I was young. And dumb." He gazed into the opening of the trail to the woods. "She knew it, too, so just to fuck with me, she flirted for a few days and then asked me to take a walk with her. Here."

  I stared at him, wishing the story would end before it reached the worst part.

  "I was scared shitless of this place, of course, but at the time, all I could think was that Laney Rosco wanted to hang out with me." He shrugged. "Like I said, dumb kid."

  My eyes fell. No matter how young someone was, a broken crush could be brutal.

  "When was this?" I asked, wondering how old he had been.

  "Seventh grade," he mumbled.

  He must have been about twelve. The prime age to be totally trusting, following your heart, and then to have someone step on it without mercy.

  "So, what happened?"

  H
is back straightened as tension tightened his muscles, and his jaw clenched, creating a sharper angle to his profile.

  "When I got here, she was hanging out, laughing with Dom and his friends. They all knew it was a setup and laughed at me for thinking I even had a chance with Laney." He dropped his eyes. "Yeah, that was kind of a low point for me."

  I felt the sting of humiliation for him. My lips pressed together in anger. Laney was a total bitch.

  "That sucks. I hate her even more now. If that's even possible." I grated my teeth.

  Why the hell would she do that to him? Just to look cool in front of the jocks? It made no sense to me. It was clear she had them all wrapped around her finger from a young age, so why pick on Shane?

  He took a breath, then went on.

  "Before I could make my quick exit and get out of there, Dom dared me to go into the woods. They all knew I'd never want to go in there, especially alone. But with all of them jeering, I had no choice."

  I closed my eyes, feeling his inner turmoil from that moment when he was in seventh grade. The fear. The humiliation. The courage to face his fear under pressure. And then his disappointment in himself for falling victim to their bullying. It tore at my soul to feel what he had gone through.

  "So I went in," he continued, staring into the darkness of the trail. "I shouldn't have. I should have known better. But they left me no choice." His eyes fell, and he stared at the dirt. "I saw something in there that haunts me to this day. I can't erase it. I can't forget it. But as soon as I saw it, my senses exploded. Something erupted in me, either from fear or from anger, I can't be sure. But that was the day my supernatural abilities came into full power. Like a burst of energy."

  My eyes widened, and I stared into the woods. Something in there triggered his psychic power. But what?

  "So, there really is something in those woods." I shot my eyes all around the trees.

  He nodded slowly and exhaled his pent up stress.

  "Yes. There's something about the woods. Something scary," he said. "Something evil."

  My jaw fell open as I searched for my next words. I had no idea what I could say to him that would make any sense. His story was wild and left me with so many questions. I wanted to know what he saw in there. What could have the ability to cause such fear? Or the power to unlock someone's psychic potential? At this point, all I wanted to do was comfort him and offer my support. I figured the rest would follow.