Walking in the Shadows

by Giovanni, Cassandra

  Walking in the Shadows

  Cassandra Giovanni

  Copyright © Cassandra Giovanni, 2012

  All Rights Reserved

  PUBLISHER’S CATALOGING-IN-PUBLICATION DATA:

  Giovanni, Cassandra

  Walking in the Shadows

  ISBN: 978-1478118190

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2012912435

  1. Murder—Fiction. 2. Vampires—Fiction. 3. Mystery—Fiction. 4. Love—Fiction. 5. High school—Fiction. 6. Amherst, MA—Fiction. I. Title

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or deceased, events or locations are wholly coincidental.

  Any unauthorized use of this document (i.e. scanning, uploading, reproduction) using the Internet or paper method is illegal and punishable by law. I appreciate your support and respect of my novel.

  Cover Art: Gio Design Studios © 2012

  Printed in the United States of America

  To my husband for continuing to support me as we enter the new chapter of our lives, where I am a writer and he is my muse.

  To my parents for reminding me that there was never a time when I wasn’t writing as a child and that this is who I am. I am a writer.

  Special thanks Ellen, an amazing writer, mentor, and most of all, friend.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  I hadn’t always been like this; a shadow person always on the edge of my lies. It was a matter of circumstance more than anything—a circumstance that I avoided telling him. When I walked into the classroom I avoided his eyes and shuffled to take a seat as far away from his livid glare as possible.

  “Good morning, class; my name is Mr. Knightley,” he greeted.

  I already knew who he was. He made me happy and undeniably flighty, so flighty that I had congratulated him on his acceptance of his dream job at the local high school. It was the high school that I was enrolled in as a student. Now sitting in his class. I looked up into the eyes of the man with whom I was utterly in love and beseeched him to understand. His aquamarine eyes were dark with condemnation and fury, yet his voice gave away none of those emotions as he continued. “Let’s start by going around the room and introducing ourselves. Say your name and one thing about yourself that is of interest, as well as your favorite book,” he instructed. He swallowed and looked away from me. Now he nodded at the girl in the front row.

  She smiled sugar sweet, and I swore I tasted bile in my throat as she giggled, “Why don’t you begin Mr. Knightley?”

  “Well, you know my name. I just recently graduated UMass Amherst and here I am teaching for my first year at Amherst high school,” he answered, and I could hear the anger in his voice. Despite the fact that I was looking at my notebook I knew he was looking directly at me. “My favorite novel is The Thirty Nine Steps by John Buchanan.”

  Almost every girl said their favorite book was some novel from The Crimson Reign saga; a craze I thought would never end. I would not be one of them, for I had never picked up one of those books and now never could—another matter of circumstance. The girl in front of me turned with a snarky smile on her face. “Your turn newbie.”

  I looked up at him; his eyes were distant because he already knew all my answers. I opened my mouth to speak, but shut it. I felt paralyzed, and I felt I looked like a complete idiot to the class. I didn’t care what they thought of me, but what he thought meant the world, and I had no idea what he was thinking.

  “My name is Vera. I fear there is nothing of interest about me,” I replied, and I saw a faint smile on his lips. I could tell he was remembering when I had said that to him and I continued, “Emma by Jane Austen is my favorite novel.”

  The smile quickly faded and his acidic eyes met mine again. I looked away in agony—an agony I had not felt since the day my parents had been murdered.

  Chapter 2

  “You’re acting strange Vera. What’s wrong?” my boss Kirsten asked. I had priced a shirt with an unusual amount of force with the gun.

  “Mhmm…What?” I mumbled back.

  “You’re acting strange?”

  “I had a bad day at school. I’m sorry Kirsten… you understand -- I don’t exactly fit in,” I fumbled with the words. I was fine with not fitting in; it was everything else about the day that was wrong.

  “You grew up fast—they’re still growing up. It’s not necessarily a bad thing…you have your head on straight.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” I replied as I picked up the shirt and admired it.

  “You like it?” Kirsten asked as she watched me smooth the shirt with particular care.

  “Yeah, it’s pretty.” I was glad the subject changed.

  “It’s yours and these,” she said as she dug through a pile of shoes, “will look great along with your skinny jeans.”

  “Kirsten, I can’t take this from you. . .”

  “I can spoil you as much as I want. Your parents would want me to because they can’t,” she replied, and I took them, knowing there was no fighting her on the subject. She leaned in and whispered, “So . . . it was Tad’s first day at his new job, right? Have you talked to him yet?”

  “Not really, “I answered, trying hard to sound unemotional so that I wouldn’t have to explain what I had done.

  “Did you see him today?”

  I looked up, sure my eyes said it all.

  “I came straight from school to here,” I finally replied, watching the brows knit in confusion over her warm chocolate eyes.

  “You saw him at school? He’s too old to be a student though…” Her voice trailed off as she looked at me. I was rigid; frozen, really. “No! He’s not your teacher is he?”

  I ran a hand through my long wavy brown hair and nodded.

  “He didn’t know you were a student there?” Kirsten hissed, pulling me to sit next to her behind the register. We both smiled as one of the gossip girls that haunted the place walked by.

  “I told h
im I went to Amherst. I think he just assumed I meant the college.”

  “Then today you deserve to be spoiled. That’s no way to start your senior year at a brand new school, especially after what you’ve been through.”

  “I should have told him my age, and now I’ve ruined everything.”

  “I doubt it,” Kirsten squeezed my shoulder.

  “How is it not ruined?” I asked, my stomach squeezing up my rib cage in angst.

  “You wouldn’t have been together if you had told him, well…if he had understood you meant high school.”

  “I guess it’s better to be ruined than to never have existed at all?” I quipped, but the feeling in my stomach only worsened. “I tried to transfer out of his class, but my guidance counselor said she wanted to talk to him about it first.”

  “What do you think he’ll say?” Kirsten asked, kind eyes moving from side to side as she took in my face.

  “I have no clue…I would imagine he never wants to see me again…so I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to sign off on it.”

  “I doubt that Vera. This is someone who lo—” Kirsten began.

  I cut her off. “Don’t say it! That will only make it worse.”

  Kirsten pursed her lips before speaking. “You know it’s true.”

  “It doesn’t matter now, does it?” I snapped, but there was no strength to the conviction.

  Chapter 3

  I sat with arms crossed and glared at my guidance counselor. She glared back over her reading glasses; I was a bug she wanted to squash. I was so surprised when she finally spoke. The voice and the words came out like honey.

  “Mr. Knightley believes that this class will be beneficial to you and so do I. I’m not going to authorize the transfer.” The smile was utterly fake.

  “Okay,” I replied as my nails dug into my rib cage.

  “Is there something else I can help you with?” the guidance counselor probed, her penciled eyebrows hovering over the rim of her glasses.

  “No, thanks for your help though,” I answered standing and grabbing my book bag from the floor.

  “If you need anything else, please let me know,” she said to my back, and I glanced over my shoulder sending her a weak smile before I slipped out the door.

  When I walked into the classroom ten minutes late all eyes were on me, including Tad’s. His eyes moved quickly across my face and his lips pursed as if he was trying to determine that I would be okay, but I wouldn’t show him that. I slid into my seat at the back of the room and looked down at my hands.

  “Nice of you to join us Vera,” Tad commented, pulling at his tie and tipping his head to the right.

  “Sorry,” I mumbled. I didn’t enjoy the fact that I was no longer his equal, but I couldn’t let him see that I cared.

  Tad stared at me for a moment, and then shook his head, “Well, let’s continue, the fundamental wrongs of Heathcliff are…yes, Amanda?”

  I rushed out of the classroom as soon as the bell rang; I felt his eyes burning into my back as I ran down the hall to get away from him. I stopped at my locker, leaning my back against it and ran my hands through my hair. I tried to ignore the memory of the first time I had met him.

  ~~~

  “Chaucer?” a young man sitting across from me asked; lowering his own book. He had a managed mess of sandy brown hair and what seemed to be a permanent five o’clock shadow; the appearance of a typical “bad” boy. The unexpected sweetness of his smile and his eyes showed otherwise.

  “The father of British Literature,” I replied with a smile.

  The way his eyes smiled with his lips washed everything I was feeling away. It left me calm, but pulled me to him with an anxious wanting—one that I had not felt before. He stood, throwing his coffee cup in the trash and gathered up his books. I didn’t know where the boldness came from, but I signaled for him to sit down.

  “My name’s Tad.”

  “Vera,” I said as I tried to remember to breathe.

  “So you enjoy British Lit?”

  “That’s where it all started isn’t it?”

  “Indeed, I believe you’re correct. I actually just finished my degree and teaching credentials in that exact subject,” he replied, sitting and leaning towards me.

  “Amherst?” I asked.

  “You?” he countered, nodding his head with a crooked smile. It was at that moment I knew I was done for.

  “Amherst,” I answered, failing to mention at that time that it was Amherst High School and that I had not yet attended a day there. I had only just arrived from the other side of the state where I hoped my curse had been left behind.

  That had been my first mistake of many. In hindsight I realized that I should have told Tad everything, and that he was missing major gaps of what made me who I was. He thought I was much older than I actually was because of those circumstances that made me different than any other teenage girl; ones that I had neglected to tell him.

  “Vera…Are you okay?”

  Tad’s voice broke me back into the present.

  “That’s a loaded question Mr. Knightley,” I snapped, my voice much fiercer than I thought it would be – or should have been.

  “Vera…please?” he probed, the voice pained.

  I turned and opened my locker, throwing my books in and slamming it shut. “Goodbye,” I retorted, and I could feel his eyes burning into my back as silent tears fell down my cheeks.

  Chapter 4

  Everywhere I looked reminded me of him; of some memory that was so amazing it hurt. It was as if we had an integral understanding of what the other felt even if we didn’t agree, but no amount of understanding could fix my mistake.

  I pulled my knees into my chests that I was curled up in the fetal position. I wanted to yell and scream, but all I could do was sob. How could he look at me like that? How could he still be angry—when all I could feel was a ragged hole in my chest where my heart used to be. It seemed it would be easier to be angry with him than to be miserable with the loneliness that filled everywhere I looked.

  Lying in my bed hurt, as it reminded me of him laying his head on my chest as I ran my hands threw his hair and he read me some novel he loved. I squeezed my eyes shut tighter, wondering if I squeezed hard enough, would it all go away? The scent his cologne had left on my pillow wafted over me and in an instant I found myself yelling for no reason, ripping the sheets off in anger at my stupidity. I fell into the wall with my sheets shredded half on the bed, half off the bed and ruined. This was my fault. If I had just told him, let him know the truth, things would be different.

  I slammed my head back against the wall. I didn’t know the truth anymore because I had wandered around it for so long. I had pushed my past away and let my heart linger with him for too long. It felt as if my heart was stuck somewhere between his classroom and the coffee shop we met in.

  Chapter 5

  When I woke up the next morning I was lying on the floor in my mangled sheets. Makeup could do nothing for the red streaks in my eyes and the purple circles that lay beneath them. I had slept for a total of two hours between nightmares and fits of anger and sadness. God or whoever the hell was up there had to hate me. Why did I deserve this? I had done nothing wrong in my whole life. I hadn’t told anyone anything about how my parents’ deaths had ripped me apart, or how I felt that the murders were more related than anyone thought—was that it? Was I that bad of a person? Some sort of pathological liar that never quite said anything about the things that hurt so much?

  Tad’s class was the first class of the day and I, of course, had forgotten the assignment. I cursed at myself for forgetting it. We were supposed to pick a favorite song to play for the class and explain why we loved it so much. The only music I had on my phone that morning was angry. I had switched out the memory cards before leaving for school that morning and had left all my easy music at home. It wasn’t quite angry music, but it wasn’t anything quite appropriate for a British Literature class, even if it was more an assig
nment to get to know one another.

  I somehow ended up being the first one in the classroom and crept to the back of the room hiding my emotional wreck of a face. I should have stayed home. I could hear Tad’s shoes as he approached, but I refused to look up. He stopped at my desk and knocked on it.

  “Hello Vera?”

  “Good morning, Mr. Knightley,”

  “It’s rude not to look at someone when they’re speaking to you.”

  I watched his fingers tapping the desk.

  “Good morning, Mr. Knightley,” I repeated, but this time I looked up at him.

  As he took my pale face in his hands, Tad clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, “Vera…” he began with his voice an excruciating whisper.

  When he opened his eyes I gave him a weak smile.

  “I’m sorry you have to see me like this,” I said.

  “No, I did this!” he replied as his hands became fists clenched to his sides.

  “No, it’s my fault; there is so much I should have told you. I’ve been so very stupid,” I whispered.

  “I should have known,” he said, his eyes still bearing down.

  “How could you? Do I appear like a normal seventeen year old outside of this place?” I asked.

  “Seventeen?”

  “Eighteen… in two weeks.”

  “Well, that’s not too bad then,” Tad commented, his eyes finding the ceiling.

  “We never did anything that my age would have mattered,” I replied, and I couldn’t help but keep my eyes locked on his face as I tried to decipher his thoughts.

  “I still thought of—” he began, but at that moment students began to pile in, and I went back to looking through the songs on my phone. I wasn’t thinking of music anymore and instead was thinking about what he was going to say. My stomach was fluttering, but soon it settled. When I looked up Tad was Mr. Knightley again.

  He clapped his hands, and I jumped, causing laughter from someone nearby. “Umm…okay class, we have a two hour block, so we’ll be able to get through everyone today. This was an easy assignment, so I hope everyone is prepared. We’ll just go down the rows in order.”