She moved closer to him, unable this time to resist, and reached for his hands. He tensed, causing her to pause. “Do you mind?”
“No.”
She held both of his hands and felt them quivering within her own. “I’m your friend, Hunter. Something’s going on with you, and I want to help.” She looked into his brown eyes and saw them twitch. “Why don’t you come to my house for lunch today? I’ve got some leftover spaghetti and meatballs.”
He looked at their hands touching and smiled slightly. “That would be great. I forgot to bring anything to eat today. Lucky this school allows us to go home for lunch.”
“Good.” She squeezed his hands then let them go. “You better get to class.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He turned to leave and opened the door then looked back. “So what’s the brain for if not to store memories?”
“It’s a receiver and transmitter, like a TV set. A signal comes in, and a movie memory plays in your head.”
His eyes widened as he just stared at her with his mouth open.
“Are you OK?”
“Yeah. Gotta go.” He left the room.
She thought he would be excited or awed about her conclusion, but he seemed terrified. Why did he have to write something else? Something was going on inside Hunter’s head. She’d sensed it since they first met. He said he couldn’t remember his past, yet he often seemed haunted.
She knew what nightmares the past could bring.
Chapter Five
Hunter trotted down the hall toward Patty’s office. He had to get a pass, but he couldn’t stop thinking about Jazz’s words—a movie memory plays in your head. That’s exactly what he was experiencing. But these weren’t his memories. Whose were they?
“Slow down, Hunter,” shouted Patty as he burst through her doorway.
“I’m sorry. Jazz was showing me her worms. She’s discovered something amazing.”
“Well, come back later and tell me about it.” She handed him a paper. “You know that girl likes you, don’t you?”
Hunter’s eyes moved from the pass to Patty’s eyes. “As a friend. We’re just good friends.”
Patty chuckled. “God, how can guys be so clueless? More than a friend, Hunter. Take my word for it. Now get!”
He stared at Patty as he backed out of the office. She likes me? He remembered how warm her hands felt just a few moments ago. And the tingling up his arms.
Not paying attention, he backed into the nurse outside the office. “Oh, sorry, Ms. Green.” She was so small and wiry, he wondered how she remained standing after he plowed into her.
“That’s OK, Hunter.” She straightened her glasses. “Has your dad said anything to you about making an appointment to see a doctor?”
“Yeah.” He had to get to class and didn’t want her calling his father again. “He said he’d look into it.”
She gave him her crooked smile. “Make sure that he does.”
He nodded then ran toward Ms. Tucker’s room, hearing Patty cackling behind him. He stopped at the door and took a few deep breaths, hoping the room wasn’t entirely quiet when he walked in. He opened the door and saw everyone staring at computer screens, working on their descriptions.
Except for Eric who was leering at Ms. Tucker as she walked around the room. He seemed in a trance with his mouth open.
Hunter walked quietly to Ms. Tucker and gave her the note. She was a new teacher, having taken over for Ms. Hartland who had to take care of her sick parents in Wisconsin. All the boys thought Tucker was hot and looked like a high school student. And her soft, breathy voice was the subject of many imitations and comments outside her classroom.
“Did you find your special object last night?” she whispered with a smile.
“Yeah.”
“OK, you know what to do.”
As he walked to his desk in the rear corner, he saw Eric’s whole body turned sideways in his chair, ogling Tucker’s butt.
“Eric? Do you have a question?” asked Tucker with her brows raised and arms folded around her chest.
Eric snapped out of his reverie. “No.”
“Then why aren’t you working?” He continued to stare until she moved her hand in a circle, indicating for him to turn back around. She walked back to her desk.
After Hunter sat down, Eric turned to him and sneered. “Must have had a hot date last night, eh, Hunter? Male or female? Or was it Jazz?”
The others around them snickered. Most days he didn’t acknowledge Hunter’s existence, but when he was late, Eric usually said something to him.
Hunter smirked, undeterred. “Sorry, Eric. I don’t kiss and tell. And Jazz is very much a female.”
“Oh ho!” said Lanny sitting on the other side of Hunter. “Got you there, big guy,” as he laughed.
“Boys,” said Ms. Tucker in a throaty whisper. “You have an assignment.”
Eric glared at Hunter who flipped open his computer then gazed outside. He’d decided to make up a story about the Mount Rainier knife. He and his dad had gone there many times, just father and son, camping and hiking. Fat chance, he thought. Or maybe they did. How would he know any differently?
Without warning the pounding started. Dammit! He needed to do this assignment. When the stories first started coming to him, there was one or two a day and rarely during school. Now they happened all the time. His grades had plummeted.
He closed his eyes and tried to see Mount Rainier in his head. Instead he saw himself walking down the same hallway past the door on the right. Then he stopped. He could hear something from behind the door. Laughter? It faded away. He continued down the hall, through the wall until he was outside a log duplex two blocks from the school. Eric walked from behind the house, sneaking through some willows. He looked both ways along the street then went to the door and knocked.
Ms. Tucker opened the door wearing sweatpants and a tank top. “Hey, Eric. Thanks for coming by.”
Eric noticed her makeup and the strong scent of vanilla. For him? he wondered. Probably. He gave her his special smile. “You said you needed help.”
“Come in.” She held the door open for him, so he had to walk close to her to get inside. “Sorry the place is such a mess.” Her voice sounded extra breathy to Eric. “I thought you could help me move things around. The movers just plopped everything down before I had a chance to say where to put it.”
“No problem.” Eric saw boxes everywhere, some opened, some still sealed. This place had always been a dump, dark and dingy.
“You seem to be the strongest boy in school.” She winked.
He nodded. “Maybe.” As Eric walked around the room, he removed his jacket, revealing a cutoff nylon t-shirt. He tightened his arms muscles as he draped his jacket over a chair. “I’ve been here lots of times. Lots of people have rented this place.” He stretched his arms above his head, revealing most of his torso. He noticed where her eyes roamed. “The price is good.”
She wrinkled her nose. “Kind of musty smelling, though.”
He moved closer. “The vanilla scent is doing a good job of hiding it.”
“You like it?” She held out her hand.
“Is that from you?” He leaned closer to sniff her arm. “Mmmm. Smells real good.” He moved to her neck. “It’s even stronger up here.” He could feel the heat radiating from her skin. “I wonder if it tastes as good as it smells.” He had to fight his urge to kiss her neck.
She laughed and stepped away. “It’s a new body wash I just bought. I love it. I told you after school today I’d give you twenty dollars for helping me.”
Eric saw her eyes linger on his abs. “I didn’t come over for the money,” he said. “How old are you anyway?”
“Twenty-two.”
He watched her red lips pucker twice. “How old again?”
“Twenty-two.”
“Sure is fun to watch you say that. How old?” If she said it again, he was going to kiss her.
“Eighteen. You don’t look old enough to be a teacher. I mean, your body does, but your face looks much younger.”
“Is that supposed to be a compliment or a complaint?” She bent over to pick up a small box. He could see her large, honey breasts hanging from her chest
“Just an observation. Mmm. Like your top.”
Her eyes met his before she rose and saw the direction of his gaze. She placed her hand on the top of her shirt and tilted her head.
“Thank you.” She stood up and flicked her hair back behind her shoulder. “I started college at seventeen, graduated when I was twenty-one and was a substitute in Anchorage until I got this job.”
“You must be smart as well as pretty.”
She smiled. “Thank you, again.”
He moved within inches of her. “If you weren’t my teacher, I’d ask you out on a date.”
She blushed. “If you weren’t my student, I’d accept.”
They smiled at each other.
Eric’s gaze moved slowly downward, then up again. “Well, right now I’m just a friend helping you out, not your student. And I think we can be good friends, when we’re not in school.”
She sat on the sofa. “We’re not in school now.” She patted the cushion, and he sat next to her. She grasped his knee, pulling his leg against hers then moved her fingers around in circles.
“We are definitely not in school.” He smirked at her touch.
“Maybe tomorrow you’ll be bragging to your buddies how you spent all afternoon helping your cute teacher.”
“I didn’t say anything about you being cute.”
She lifted her brows and folded her arms across her chest. “You don’t think I’m cute?”
“Better than cute. But with those baggy sweats you got on, it’s kinda hard to tell how pretty you really are.”
She stood up. “I don’t normally wear these in the house.” She pulled the sweats off slowly to reveal tight, spandex shorts. “I like to be casual when I can.” She put her hand on her hip. “So, cute, or not?”
He stood up and moved closer to her, aching to hold her. “I think you’re the hottest girl in town.”
“Really?” she purred. She touched the bottom of his t-shirt and ran her fingers around the edges.
He put his hands on her hips and pulled her against him. “Maybe I should start in the bedroom, and then work out from there.”
She lifted her face up to his and barely touched her lips to his. “I think there is something you can help me with in there.”
Eric wet his lips. “What’s your first name?”
“Vanessa.”
“Vanessa.” He kissed her. “I like that.”
She took his hand and pulled him down the hall.
“How are you doing, Hunter?” asked Ms. Tucker as she headed toward him.
Hunter’s heart pounded. He hadn’t noticed her near him. He quickly saved the document, then emailed it to himself.
“You’ve been typing up a storm. Can I see what you have?” She bent over to look at his computer screen.
Hunter tried to speak, but all he could do was gasp.
He grabbed the screen with his hands then swallowed. “I’m not finished yet.” He began to pull the lid down.
She put her thumb on the top of the screen and lifted it up. “That’s OK. Good writing is never finished.”
Hunter wanted to run out of the room, but she’d knelt on his left side where he would exit the desk. He tried to glance at Ms. Tucker without turning his head. Surely she would hear his heart throbbing! He closed his eyes and tried to think of something else, but all he could see was Vanessa and Eric undressing each other in her bedroom no matter how hard he tried to block them out or focus on Ms. Tucker next to him.
He looked at Eric who had put on earphones, bobbing his head to the music.
“Where did you get this story, Hunter?” Her voice quivered.
He looked at her, noticing the swollen vein on her forehead. Her face was red, and her eyes were moist. She looked scared.
“Just popped into my head. Has been happening to me a lot lately.”
“This just popped into your head?” Her whisper was sharp. “Seriously? Do you think I’m stupid?” She lowered her voice and put her mouth close to his ear. “Did Eric say anything to you?”
“Eric and I don’t really talk.”
“Why did you use these names?”
“I just write what I see and hear.”
“This didn’t happen, Hunter. I don’t know where you got this story.” She flashed an angry look toward Eric. “But it did not happen.”
“It’s just a story, Ms. Tucker,” he tried to reassure her.
He saw Vanessa and Eric kissing each other on the bed. His heart throbbed in his throat. “I don’t know where they come from.”
He heard them moan. He could feel sweat dripping inside his shirt.
Was it all imagined? Were the dreams more than they appeared? What if they were real? Did Eric and Ms. Tucker really . . . ?
Her eyes narrowed. “You’ve written others?”
He swallowed and nodded his head. “Yes.”
“Like this?” Her eyes flashed wide open.
“Not about . . . someone else with your name.”
Her whisper sounded angrier as her mouth approached his ear again. “My name is not Vanessa. Where’d you get that?”
“That’s what you said . . . what Ms. Tucker said . . . in the story . . . “
“Have you shown these to anybody?”
He thought about his father, but technically Hunter had not shown him the story. “No.”
That seemed to calm her anger. She straightened up and looked around the room. “Keep working everyone.” She put her hands on her legs and bent over until her eyes were level with his. “Would you do me a favor and not show this one to anyone else? Please?”
Her scooped neck dress hung down, revealing her breasts barely contained in a pink bra. How could she not know what he could see? He moved his eyes up to hers.
She smiled. “Please?”
“Sure.” He pushed his computer lid down and stared at his desk.
“Would you mind deleting that story? Hunter, please look at me.”
He lifted his eyes. She tried to smile, but her lips trembled.
“Would you delete it? Please?”
In his mind he saw Eric and Vanessa squirming against each other. Vanessa gasped.
The bell rang.
He flinched. “OK, but I have to go.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
“Thank you.” She stood up. “Listen everyone. Send what you have to my dropbox before you leave school today.”
Hunter moved away from her quickly and joined the crowd exiting the room. Lonny leaned over to him and said, “She gave you a long look at her boobs. How’d you manage that? Man, you’re sweating like a horse!” He walked away laughing.
When he stepped through the door, Hunter looked back and saw Ms. Tucker talking to Eric by her desk. His hands were up, and he shook his head. Tucker flung her arm toward her door, pointing her finger. Eric moved away.
In Hunter’s mind, she lay on her back while Eric pressed against her, stroking her face, grinding himself against her while she moaned.
The scene seemed so real.
How was that possible?
Chapter Six
When he saw Eric leaving the room, Hunter turned around and walked toward the commons area, bumping into a couple of students and apologizing as he went along.
“Hey, Hunter!” shouted Jazz from the seating area called the Pit. It was a round step-down from the commons floor outside the main office with curved seating along the sides.
“Come here.” She smiled at him, patting the bench. In his mind he saw Vanessa patting the sofa. He shook his head.
> Just as Hunter lifted his foot to step down, he felt someone crash into his side, his stomach lurching as he fell, sprawling onto the floor of the Pit. A sharp pain flared in his knee. For a second he thought he would puke.
He heard Eric’s voice from behind him. “Hey, sorry man. Guess I wasn’t looking.” Then he laughed.
“What the hell!” shouted Jazz. “Hunter, are you OK?”
He saw her boots near his face.
“You piece of crap, Eric!” Her boots raced away from him.
As Hunter tried to sit up, he heard a stomp.
“Hey! Damn you, bitch!” shouted Eric.
Hunter turned around and saw Eric lifting his foot in pain. Jazz’s hands were clenched into fists, ready to slug him. She was going to take on Eric? For him? How amazing was that? How could Jazz be so tough?
Mr. Bentley came out of his office. “That’s enough! Both of you come with me.” Bentley turned around, stomping the floor all the way to his office, followed by Eric and Jazz.
Hunter picked up his computer and walked gingerly up the step, stopping to rub his knee, before moving toward the office. He wanted to explain what happened to Bentley so Jazz wouldn’t get into trouble, but Bentley’s door closed just as Hunter got to Patty’s desk.
“Where are you going?” asked Patty.
He tried to control his breathing. “I need to speak to Mr. Bentley.”
Patty’s face stretched into a big smile. “Told you that girl liked you. Lucky she didn’t break Eric’s foot. Go on in.” She lifted her phone, punched a button, and said something just as Hunter knocked on Bentley’s door.
“Come in,” said Bentley.
Hunter opened the door.
“Are you OK?” asked Jazz.
“Yeah. Thanks.” Hunter looked at Eric. “What’s your problem?”
Eric started to say something, but caught himself. “It was an accident. Just wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“That’s BS,” snarled Jazz. “I saw you walk right into him,” seemingly ready to stomp his foot again.
Someone To Kiss My Scars: A Teen Thriller Page 4
