The Prophecy

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The Prophecy Page 9

by Desiree DeOrto


  “Yeah, you're right. Believe it or not, I'm getting tired of this too. It would be nice if I could actually like coming into work instead of contemplating jumping off a bridge instead.” I sat down on top of the counter and looked at Rose. “Cease fire?”

  She looked up at my offered hand. For a moment I thought she would bite it. “Fine. But I swear if she stabs us in the back it will all fall on you, Brandon.” She spat out while quickly shaking my hand.

  He gathered up both of us for a big group hug. “See? I told you guys, we're all going to be besties!”

  “I swear that is the gayest thing I've ever heard.” I said with a laugh, trying in vain to remove myself from his embrace.

  “Well, what do you expect from the big oaf?” Rose said laughingly, nudging Brandon in the ribs with her elbow. “Now let go doofus, we've got to open the store.”

  He released us and stepped back, his smile still firmly in place. “You know you love me.” He said with a wink, then sauntered to behind the counter, leaving us alone. We looked uneasily at each other. Having become so used to all the animosity I wasn't used to playing nice anymore, at least on a real level.

  “So. You want to unlock the doors, or do you want me to?” I asked, looking toward the item in question. I could see the shadow of people outside the doors already.

  She gestured toward them. “You go ahead. I've got some shipments in the back that I need to start working on. I swear my mom orders enough books for half the nation.”

  I grabbed the keys from my pocket and sorted through them as I walked to the door. I found the right one and went to unlock it. “Shit.” I muttered while fighting with the lock. I wiggled the key back and forth, trying to get the lock to unlatch so I could open the store. “Hey Brandon!” I called over my shoulder. “The stupid door won't unlock!”

  He looked up from behind the counter. “You've got to pull on the door while you're trying to unlock it, otherwise it will keep catching.” He shrugged and went back to stacking coffee cups.

  I tried pulling and pushing on the door to unlock it. It was pissing me off. Nothing makes you feel more incompetent than your inability to open a door. “Stupid freaking door! I swear I will rip you off your hinges if— you— don't— open!” I yanked hard and flew back with the momentum of the pull as the door finally unlocked. “Damn it!” I looked up with a glare on my face as I heard a laugh from the doorway.

  “This isn't funny!” I was getting ready to lay into whomever had the audacity to laugh until I saw who it was. I felt like laying back in utter embarrassment but instead I felt my face flush as I quickly rose to my feet. Figured the pizza guy would show up here eventually.

  “Why do I always find you either about to fall, or falling for me?” he asked.

  “Ha ha, aren't you funny? Well, at least I don't have pizza on my face this time.” I snapped back, blushing furiously.

  “Yeah, that is an improvement.” His small smile reached all the way up to his amber eyes, causing the gold flecks to sparkle. He ran his fingers through his thick hair as he looked me over. “So, I see we've got a new employee here.”

  “You don't work here too, do you?”

  He laughed outright at the look of horror on my face. “God no. I just come here a lot.”

  “Well, I haven't seen you in here yet.”

  He leaned toward me and lowered his voice, “I'm not in here yet because you're blocking the door.”

  I felt a blush spread across my entire body as I moved back and waved him in. “Then by all means, do come it.” He laughed as he passed me by, heading toward the coffee counter.

  “Gabe! What's up man?” Brandon called out to him.

  “Not much, just coming in for some coffee.”

  “Ah, the usual?”

  “Yeah, if you don't mind. So how’s the new girl doing?” he gestured over his shoulder to me.

  “The 'new girl' is right here, you know.”

  Brandon raised his eyebrow at him. “She's a feisty one, that's for sure.”

  “Really? I haven't noticed.” Gabe sent a grin my way. I thought my face would catch on fire with how much I blushed around him. Real attractive.

  Brandon looked between me and Gabe. “So, how's Jenni doing?”

  His smile faltered a little bit. “From what I hear, she's doing well. Coming back from vacation in a couple of days.”

  Brandon finished up Gabe's order and handed it to him. “I bet you're happy she'll be home soon.”

  Distracted, Gabe took his drink. “Yeah, it'll be fun.” He sent a soft smile my way then straightened and started heading out. “See ya around guys.”

  I was momentarily distracted as I watched him leave. When Gabe was fully out of sight I turned to Brandon. “What was that about?”

  He scratched his head, looking uncomfortable. “Well, that's Gabe.”

  “Yeah, I gathered as much.”

  He looked behind me and bellowed out. “Rose! I need ya here for a minute!” He waited for Rose to arrive, refusing to say anything more on the subject.

  “Geesh, it’s going to take me forever to organize all those books.” Rose said while wiping her hands on a towel. “What are you hollering about?”

  “Gabe was here.” He stated simply.

  She raised her eyebrow and waited for him to continue. She let out a huff when he remained silent. “What about it?” he looked pointedly at me. I looked at Rose in confusion and she looked between the two of us, trying to get the point. I felt like we were in a tennis match as our eyes darted around each other. This was ridiculous. Her eyes widened as she finally caught on to what he was silently communicating. “Oh, I see.”

  I stared them down. Brandon fidgeted, obviously uncomfortable, while Rose looked delighted. “Will you two please tell me what the hell this is all about?”

  “It's quite simple really. That was Gabe Morrison, Prince Charming extraordinaire and current play thing of her royal bitchiness—”

  “Total hag.” Brandon added.

  “Jenni Miller.”

  “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Well, you noticed how he's completely built and drop dead gorgeous, right?” Brandon asked.

  “Yeah, would be kind of hard to miss.”

  “Well, he's off limits.” Rose stated, calmly picking at her nails and looking for all the world like this was a normal conversation.

  “And I would be interested in whether or not he's off limits because?” I was beyond irritated. Why couldn't they just get to the point?

  Brandon's eyebrows shot up. “So you wouldn't be interested in him?”

  “Like, seriously. You don't want to know Mr. Hottie?” Rose's voice starting to rise at the end in shock.

  I looking at them like they were growing arms out of their foreheads. “No, I'm not. Look, he's hot, I'll give him that. But I just moved here and I'm not looking for someone to know.” I emphasized, looking pointedly at Rose.

  “Huh, I may just decide not to kill you after all.” She muttered to herself.

  “I heard that, you know.”

  She waved me off. “It doesn't matter. I'm just shocked you're not slobbering all over him like all the other slut bags around here.”

  I rolled my eyes and started to organize some of the products on the counter. “Wasn't it you who used my virgin status as an insult earlier?”

  “Oh yeah, forgot about that.”

  “How can you forget? That was like, twenty minutes ago!”

  She shrugged and started to head back to the storage room. “What can I say? If I'm not battling someone all the good bits of info just fly right out of my mind. My bad!”

  I felt like my eyes would pop out of my head. “Did that seriously just happen?”

  “What, her being nice-ish?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Welcome to the Twilight Zone.” He laughed and walked away, humming the theme song.

  Chapter Twelve

  I sat in 'my' chair, as I began to call it and s
tared up at the ceiling, waiting to start where we left off. James was once again sitting at his desk, pecking away at his keyboard. While he was busy, I decided to study him and compare him to Gabe. I knew they must be related because the resemblance was uncanny. “Do you have any kids?”

  He looked up briefly then went back to typing. “Yes, I have three actually. My oldest, Gabe, is in the same grade as you in school. You should run into him since you're taking a lot of the same AP classes.”

  Ah ha! I knew it! I was feeling rather proud of myself until the rest of his sentence entered my mind. “What do you mean AP classes?”

  “Oh, your mother didn't tell you?”

  “This look of shock,” I gestured to my face, “would lead one to assume that no, she didn't.”

  He finished up and closed the laptop, giving me his full attention. “Well, you remember the testing you had to do before signing up for school here?”

  I thought back and remembered the test they had me take before the move. “Yeah, what about it?”

  “It was a placement test used in our district for transfer students. Because of your scores, you've been placed in the majority of AP classes.”

  I lay back with a groan and rubbed my hands over my face. “This is so not good.”

  “Why isn't that good? You should be happy that you're intelligent enough to take advanced classes.”

  “Yeah, normally that would be a good thing, like say when you've lived somewhere all of your life. But whenever you've just moved, all people are going to think is that you're a huge nerd.” I groaned and hid behind my hands. This would just be another mark against me.

  “I thought you didn't care to be popular or what people thought about you.”

  “I don't care about being popular, but I've had more than enough of being an outcast.”

  “Ah, back to Becca, are we?”

  I stiffened and looked over at him. “You know I hate this, right?”

  “Yes, I know. But it will help you in time.”

  I shook my head and stared off into space. “I doubt there's anything in your vast knowledge that could help me.” I thought about my incidents and the most recent one. There was nothing in his bag of tricks that could remove the darkness.

  “You'd be surprised.”

  “Yeah, well I doubt it.”

  He tapped his fingers on his desk. “Well, we won't get anywhere today if we just spend our time arguing. Why don't we go back to Becca and her 'social death' threats?”

  I took a deep breath and started playing with my hair. “Since she threw herself so whole-heartedly into obtaining the status that she wanted, it was rather easy for her. I kind of admired her that way.”

  “In what way?”

  “How she would think of something that she'd want, then go after it with such determination. She always got what she wanted when she set her mind to it.”

  “I can see how you would admire that about her.”

  “Yeah, but it can be a double edged sword. I mean, it would be great for someone you know to have that whenever they're on good terms with you. But when they turn, it can be a vicious weapon.”

  “What did she do?”

  I shrugged and tried to keep an off-hand tone. “She made me a social pariah. Had everyone believe that I was a slut and a druggie. It's easy to manipulate people when they're only looking for the worst in others. So she spread a whole bunch of shit around, and since she had all the social standing and I didn't, people chose to believe her. That way they wouldn't lose their place on the social ladder.”

  “That must have been difficult for you.”

  I laughed bitterly and looked over at him. “That’s the understatement of the year. Within a week I lost my best friend, all my friends from school, and my good name. All that I had left was the life of lies that she had created for me.”

  “How did you feel about all that?”

  “How do you think? I was furious. Depressed, completely dejected. I thought I'd eventually grow out of those feelings, once the rumors died down or she found someone else to set her sights on, but if anything, it got worse.”

  “What got worse?”

  “The anger, rage.”

  He steepled his hands in front of him, looking off into the distance. “What was it like for you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “To go to school through all of that?”

  I settled myself further into the chair. “Oh, it was great.” I could feel the sarcastic bite in my tone. “Went to school every day, completely ignored by the people who were supposed to be my friends. The only time they’d talk to me was when they had a nasty comment to say. My favorite day would have to be when they put enough condoms in my locker to fill it up. Then, when I went to open it, they all fell out with a little note on a fake prescription pad saying that my ‘weeks’ supply was in. Then, I got tired of having my lunch tray dumped and food thrown at me, so I started having my lunch in the bathroom. Yes, my life was awesome, and those are just some of the memories.”

  He frowned and took a moment to order his thoughts. “I’m not going to baby it and say stuff you already know, like people are cruel and life is hard, because you’ve had firsthand experience. Nor will I placate you and say everything will get better, because that all depends on if you make it better.”

  “Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

  “Actually, it’s Dr. James.” He laughed and sat back in his chair, studying me. I always felt like he was looking at me under a microscope. Rubbing his hands maniacally while laughing like an evil scientist in some B-rated, eighties horror movie. I tried not to squirm under his direct gaze.

  “While sarcasm can be a great defense mechanism, eventually you will have to move from it and face your past in order to overcome it.”

  “Jesus, you sound like my mother.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment.” A lopsided smirk crossed his face fleetingly then he quickly turned serious as he started swiveling again. I wondered how many chairs he must break from that constant motion.

  “Let’s get back to your anger, your rage. When you're enraged, how does it feel?”

  I fidgeted, lost in my thoughts. “It’s kind of like a darkness, an electric ball that’s constantly inside of me. As my anger rises, the electricity flares out, consuming me, reaching out to other things and people around me, and the darkness starts to consume me.”

  “I've never heard it described that way. That’s a really interesting way to look at it though. Do you ever feel like you're going to lose yourself to it?” A look of compassion crossed his face.

  I looked up at him through blurry eyes from unshed tears and answered honestly with the thought that had been haunting me for over a year. “Yes. I'm afraid that one day, there isn't going to be anything of me left.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  I almost regretted having two days off. Sure, I'd love the time to relax and think about things, but I didn't want to be stuck at home. I heard muted voices coming from the living room as I walked in. I tossed my keys onto the entryway table and slipped off my tennis shoes. Bare foot, I walked over to see what my mother and father were doing. I stopped before the living room to listen to their conversation.

  “Do you think that this will work on her?” Mom asked.

  “I don't know. She seems to be better these past few days.”

  “I know, but there's always a period of peace where we almost have our daughter back after she has an incident. It seems like they've become shorter and shorter and her anger just increases between those times. I really don't know what to do with her anymore.”

  The sound of fabric rustling was the only noise in the oncoming silence. I hesitated and waited to see if they'd talk more. I peered around the corner and saw my parents sitting together on the couch, a contrast in beauty. Mom was laying with her head in Dad's lap. He frowned in thought while he absentmindedly stroked through her silky, strawberry blond hair.

  “Look, I know you're worried,” h
e said while gazing down and lovingly stroking the side of her face, “but it will all sort out in time. Besides, she's a teenager, how bad can it get?”

  She rolled her eyes at him, unable to stop her returning grin. “Don't ask that. Things always get worse when people ask that.”

  He leaned back. “Well, we'll just have to see how long this period of rest lasts. I don't know what we'll do if she doesn't snap out of this aggressive personality she's developed.”

  Mom rolled onto her side and relaxed into his protective warmth. “I don't know either. Do you think she hurt Rebecca?” The question was spoken quietly but it seemed to pierce my heart like a thousand daggers. I was barely breathing.

  I froze and stood motionless in the doorway. I stared intently at my parents, waiting for an answer.

  He let out a sad laugh. “Honestly? I don't know anymore. I hardly recognize her. She's not the daughter we know and love, so I really don't know what she's capable of. With how aggressive and violent she's been lately, it seems more and more likely that she could have been the one to hurt Becca.”

  I shattered, pain lacing through my soul, sending a deep ache throughout my body. I shook my head, denial moving through me. With tears streaming down my face, I silently retraced my steps. I left unnoticed.

  ><><><><

  I didn't know where to go or who to turn to, all I knew was I had to get away. I threw the car in reverse and slammed on the gas, not caring whether my parents heard or not. I weaved quickly down the country road toward town while my heart hammered erratically against my ribs.

  The words, 'She could have been the one to hurt Becca', repeated themselves over and over in my mind until they became an angry roar. Hurt... Becca... Hurt... Becca... My mind screamed over and over again. I gritted my teeth against the onslaught, my vision blurring from overflowing tears. I wiped them angrily away with my sleeve and focused just in time to see a deer start to cross the road in front of me. The tires squealed as I slammed on the brakes, sending the car into a sideways spin. I froze, every muscle braced for impact as I skidded to a stop.

 

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