“No, I’ve never seen the movie.”
“It’s a book too.”
“Well, I’ve never read it either.” I tried to hide the hurt I was feeling. It was stupid to feel this way.
Blake gazed back at me and then to my surprise, whooped. “How refreshing to meet a girl who’s not hell-bent on finding her version of what a guy should be.”
I wasn’t sure how to take his comment, but the way his eyes caressed my face made my insides twist. I broke eye contact. “For hating this Jane Austen so much, you seem to know a lot about her.”
“It’s not her I hate. It’s watching those eight-hour movies!”
“Wow. No wonder I never saw it.”
“Ha, I was exaggerating, but it feels like it. Complete torture. Amazing what a guy will endure to make out.”
Blake talking about kissing filled my stomach with butterflies. “Sounds like Hollywood girls are hopeless romantics if you ask me.” I wrapped my arms around my knees.
“Yeah, I guess they are. Are you getting cold?”
“No, I’m ok. You’ll like the girls here, then. A lot of rich hippie-dippies.”
Blake chuckled. “Your family doesn’t really fit that mold.”
I shrugged. I couldn’t deny my family received attention because of our good looks. “My mom’s sure proud that at least one of us followed in her footsteps.”
“What—modeling? I’m surprised Krista doesn’t do it.”
I glared at him. “I know, it’s shocking.”
He glanced at me. “I mean, she loves… the attention.”
At that, I grunted. “She could, but she loves to party too much. It drives my mom crazy.”
“Why don’t you model?” Blake pushed off the ground hard, the swing swooping.
“You’re kidding, right?” Gazing at the front lawn, I felt his eyes on me. I cleared my throat. “I’m not exactly model material. And even if I were, I’d hate it. Much rather be out running or on a bike.”
I glanced his way, and he grinned back at me. I flushed and rambled on. “My dad bought me a bike when I was twelve, and I’ve been hooked since. My mom thinks it makes me too tomboyish.”
“No way. Then you’re one smoking hot tomboy.”
My pulse quickened. What do I say to that? I was saved by a yelping sound. I glanced around.
“Oh, that’s just Misty. I have her out in the barn,” Blake said, giving the swing another push. “She must’ve caught your scent again.”
I gave him a funny look.
“I’m serious!” He threw his hands up. “Her sense of smell’s real sensitive. That’s what makes her a good bird dog.”
“Bird dog?”
“Yeah, she lets us know where the birds are by sticking out her nose and front paw. Man, the other day she must’ve caught your scent because she pointed and took off on me.”
“Are you saying I smell like a bird?”
He grinned and then leaned in close, his nose brushing against my cheek. When he inhaled, goose bumps shot across my neck.
“Are you sniffing me?” I mumbled, finding it hard to breathe.
“Yes,” he murmured, taking his time, and then he sat back. “You definitely don’t smell like a bird.”
My heart hammered against my ribs. “Oh good. What a relief.”
“You smell good. What perfume are you wearing?”
“Uh…” My mind went completely blank. I was still recovering from his face being close to mine. “Just lotion.”
His intense gaze made me squirm.
“So you must like to hunt since you have a bird dog?” I blurted.
“Yeah, I do.” His brows gathered, like something else was on his mind other than hunting. When he cleared his throat and asked, “Samantha, mind if I ask you something?” I knew I’d been right.
“Sure, what is it?”
“Your friend Jen’s in my English class.” His words made my stomach plummet. One thing with Jen was when she decided she liked a boy, nobody got in her way.
“She told me… that something happened to you. That you were kidnapped.”
I wasn’t sure why his statement caught me off guard. I’m sure lots of people had told him about my abduction since it was big news in a small town. I clasped my hands together, my fingers feeling cold and bony, and forced myself to make eye contact.
“Do you mind if I ask what happened? She was a little vague other than going on and on about it being weird and things didn’t add up.”
I had to force myself not to gasp. Maybe everyone really does believe I made it up. A reporter showed up on our door weeks ago asking if my dad thought I’d invented the wild tale since there was no real evidence to back my story. My dad had slammed the door in his face.
“Samantha, are you okay?”
I met his gaze, squaring my shoulders. He was bound to find out sooner or later. “Yeah, I’m fine and no, I don’t mind you asking. I was just out running one morning.” My memories took me there. I could feel the rhythm of my breathing again. “Next thing, I’m falling on the ground. I woke up tied to a bed. I was alone, at least for a while.”
I swallowed hard. “Then he came.”
Blake’s eyes narrowed. “Who?”
“I don’t know. He had a ski mask. He even changed his voice.”
“Wait, he spoke to you? What did he say exactly?”
I bit my lip hard. Should I tell him? I cleared my throat. “Most of the time, he just injected me with some kind of drug that knocked me out. But the day before I got away, he said… it was for my own good.”
“What? What was for your good?” The intensity on Blake’s face made me pause. A lump took up residence in my throat.
He sat back. “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this anymore.” His jaw muscle bulged as he closed his mouth.
“No, it’s okay. I should’ve told you sooner. I guess I figured maybe you’d heard about it on the news or maybe I just couldn’t tell you. Either way, I didn’t want you to see me that way, to think of me… like that.”
He glanced over, the muscles in his face relaxing. “What do you mean? Like what?”
“Well, you know. Everyone thinks I’m crazy. I’m sure Jen alluded to it too. No one believes me.”
“Are you serious? Well, they’re idiots, Sam.” His voice softened as he said my name, and for a split second, I felt like he might scoop me up in his arms, but he didn’t. “For the record, I believe you. And I only think you’re half crazy.” He gave me a lopsided grin.
“Gee, thanks.” I sort of liked that he called me Sam.
He continued to gaze at me. “Hey, speaking of Jen.”
Were we speaking of Jen? “Yes?” I asked when he didn’t say anything else.
“Do you think you could rescue me?”
“From what?” Great, let me guess. I forced the words out. “Does she like you or something?”
He shrugged.
“Oh. You like her then? You want me to set you up?” I asked.
“No, and no thanks! Why are you always playing matchmaker for me, first your sister, now Jen?”
“I’m-I’m not,” I stuttered. “I don’t know what you want. You’re so confusing and a total flirt. I can only imagine how bad you flirt at school!” When he chuckled, I thought, So you have been flirting with Jen. “Just tell me how to rescue you then.” The image of him with Jen drove me bananas.
“I’ll ask your mom first. Then you have to say yes, if they’ll let you go.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The Halloween Dance,” he announced, like I should’ve known. “Jen wants me to go with her and dress us up like Emma and,” his face contorted slightly, “Mr. Knightley.”
Although I’d never seen Emma, even though Blake thought that made me some kind of weirdo, I did know Jen liked old-fashioned 18th-19th century stuff. I giggled. “Don’t tell me, you have to wear tights or something.” When he didn’t say anything, I busted up. “Okay, no way I’m I bailing you ou
t!”
“Laugh it up, chuckles. I’m not wearing tights, and I’m not going with Jen. You’re going to be my date. I’ll wear anything you want me to, if you say yes.”
I stopped laughing. “Wait, you want to go with me?”
“I hate dances. At least if you’re with me, you’ll keep me amused, make it bearable.”
“It’s just a school dance? Why even go if you hate it so bad?” Crap, I can’t get between Jen and her prize!
“You have a point. But it is Halloween and I may not like dancing, but I do like going out and doing something.”
“Well,” I stalled, “you don’t want to go with me. I’m the world’s worst dancer. I—” I stopped talking because Blake had hopped off the swing.
“Oh whatever, you can’t be that bad.” His hand grabbed mine, pulling me up with one tug.
“What are you doing?” However, my question was pointless. As he twisted and turned me, it was obvious he was trying to do some kind of manic dance with me. I felt dizzy with my feet going two different directions. When he dipped me, I knew I was in trouble, my weight pulling me hopelessly to the ground. My body buffered both of our falls. I grunted, his weight leaving me gasping for air. He immediately lifted himself a little, elevating his weight with his knuckles on the wooden porch. I stared up at him, breathing hard.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” His words tickled my face. I nodded, my eyes staring hard at his lips. They looked so much fuller while he was suspended above me.
He cocked an eyebrow at me. “You weren’t kidding, were you? You literally have two left feet.”
“Ha-ha, very funny.” I pushed against his chest. “You’re just as bad as me. Now get off. You weigh a ton!” He jumped up and held a hand out to me. “You’re a lot heavier than you look,” I muttered as he pulled me up easily.
“And you’re too skinny. Please don’t tell me you’re anorexic.”
I took a step back. “No, I’m not. Are you always so honest all the time?”
“Sorry, bad thing about me, I suppose. I wasn’t trying to be mean but as I recall, you just called me an ox.”
“I never called you an ox!”
“Well, you implied it, said I was fat.”
“I didn’t say you were fat either!”
“Yes, you did, said I weighed a ton.” His eyes sparkled back at me.
Oh, he drives me crazy! “Well, you do, okay. Maybe you’re all muscles. I don’t know!”
“Want to see?” He began lifting his T-shirt up.
“No! You’re terrible!” I yanked his shirt down, but it was too late. I caught sight of his hard abs. Once he was covered again, I added, “I can only imagine how relentless you are to poor Jen! You better man up and go with her. She endures you day after day in school.”
Blake’s expression turned impish. “But I don’t want to go with her. You’d be so much more fun. Look at how you dance; that’s hours of entertainment just waiting to happen.”
I wasn’t going to let him have the upper hand. I grinned. “Well, even if I wanted to go with you, and I’m not saying I do, I doubt my parents would let me.” Or Jen, for that matter.
“Let’s go see, shall we?”
“Blake, wait.” He was already throwing the front door open, clearly not listening to me. It clanged shut behind him. I slumped in my seat. Now what do I do? Even if my parents say yes, what do I say to Jen? The last time I’d even smiled at a boy she was interested in, it wasn’t pretty between us. Why are girls so catty? I hated it. That’s probably why my best friend has always been Mack.
Thinking of Mack now, my heart panged painfully. I relished the ache; it meant I was finally feeling again. The detached numbness I’d wallowed in for the past month was ebbing. Being around Blake had lifted the fog for me; it made me want to feel the sunlight on my skin again.
Wrapped up in my own thoughts, I almost missed the crackling sound. My head snapped up. I scanned the yard, nothing but grass and oak trees. I found the stillness of dusk unsettling, the silence stretching on, too eerie. I hopped off the porch swing and pushed the door in. It swung too easily, and I collided with Blake.
“Hey,” he said, grabbing my arms to steady me. “Where are you off too?”
“Um, to see what’s going on.” I was trembling, the ominous feeling still nagging at me.
Blake grinned. “So, what do you want to wear?”
Chapter 8
“Stupid therapist,” I muttered darkly. During my torturous hour of therapy the day before, Dr. Brady told me I needed to tap into my subconscious mind so I could heal ‘properly’. How the heck do I do that? She was convinced all the answers were locked away in my brain somehow. Ridiculous. If I were honest, I knew I was just looking for a scapegoat.
After leaving Blake’s house, my parents asked me if I was ready to go back to school, now that Blake had asked me out. I wanted to clarify to them I hadn’t told Blake yes, just a soft maybe. I wasn’t sure how Jen would take it yet. I needed to see her first, assess how bad she’d fallen this time. Now sitting in my room, I couldn’t shake the nausea threatening. It was still dark. I’d awakened long before my alarm had gone off. What was I thinking? I’m so not ready for this.
Stomach still churning angrily, I climbed into my mom’s car an hour later. No turning back now. It was my first day as a senior. I tried to ignore the fact that the monster could be there, hiding in plain sight.
I wasn’t prepared to have both Jen and Jeremy in the front foyer when I walked in. So much for slipping in unnoticed.
“Oh my gosh!” Jen rushed toward me. “Wow, Samantha, I hardly recognized you. Your hair is—” She left the ugly unsaid.
“Hi Jen.” My gaze darted to Jeremy. The last time I’d seen him, I hadn’t been in my right mind. I hadn’t cared about throwing away our relationship. But now? How many times had I twirled that black hair between my fingers? I peered up into his dark blue eyes.
“You cut your hair. It’s dark too, looks good.” Jeremy smiled at me, his teeth white and straight.
I licked my lips. “Thanks.” I assumed he’d ignore me, maybe even yell, but be nice?
Jen grabbed my arm. “It hasn’t been the same without you.” Put together like usual, her blonde, spiral curls bounced on her shoulders. Her words felt sincere. And why wouldn’t they be? These are my closest friends. Speaking of which, where’s Mack? I searched the passing students, hoping to see spiky hair. He’d been calling himself Mack from the old eighties rap, ‘Daddy Mack will make you wanna jump, jump,’ for so long, I sometimes forgot his real name was Warren. Even his teachers called him Mack. Part of me wondered why I hadn’t at least called him to let him know I was coming back to school today. I’ve been lost in my own world.
Right on cue, Mack beelined for me, glasses askew, bright green eyes bulging, and a huge grin splitting his face.
“Sammy, Sammy, is that my beautiful friend returned?” He pulled me into a bear hug and being taller than he was, I easily caught Jeremy’s eye roll. He always hated our ‘thing’ as he put it.
Afraid I’d have no air left, I squeaked out, “Hey, Mack!” For such a small guy, he sure is strong.
He released me. “About time you’re back.” His eyes were wide, studying my face. And then he grinned. “Ooh, I likie.” His hand made its way to my hair.
I playfully swatted it away. “Yep, it’s almost as crazy as yours now.”
“Almost, baby, almost. So what’s your schedule? Do I get the pleasure of your company in any classes?”
Jeremy shifted his weight. “Hey, see you around, Samantha.”
“What? Oh, yeah. See you, Jeremy.” I watched him sulk away.
Mack whispered something to Jen, and she giggled. Once Jeremy was gone, she slapped Mack’s arm, saying, “Looks like Jeremy’s already annoyed with you.”
“He’s lame. Glad you cut those ties, Sammy,” Mack said.
Jen shot a glance at me. “Wait, you did?”
Doesn’t she know Jeremy ended it?
“Well, Jeremy—” My words were drowned by the bell shrilling.
“Shoot, I’m late! I’ve got to go. Talk at lunch?” Jen scampered away, not waiting for a response.
“Oh Jen.” Mack sighed dramatically. “You’re so lovely.” He’d had a crush on Jen for as long as I could remember. So things are back to normal; Jeremy leaving in a huff over Mack, Mack pining over Jen, and Jen giggling, clueless about how Mack feels.
That was the only comforting thing about my day. Three classes later, I felt another pair of eyes gawk at me. Part of me wanted to scream, Yeah, I’m the weird girl now, and the other wanted nothing more than to run and hide. Was it him? Was he watching me as I darted to and from class? Or worse, was he in one of my classes, biding his time? I shuddered. Someone touched my arm, and I jumped.
“Looks like I lucked out.” I glanced up to see Blake sitting down next to me. “We have Government together.”
“Goodie for me.” I meant every word. “I haven’t seen you at all today. What classes do you have?”
“Well, English for one. And Jen just told me I’m to give her my answer by lunch.” He looked at me expectedly, but the bell rang and on cue, Mr. Giles stood up from his desk.
Stroking his scruffy, gray beard, he began, “Please open your books to page ninety-three. Let’s talk congress. Matt, can you start reading the first paragraph?”
I found the right page, already dreading my turn to read, I usually stumbled on the words. My palms were sweating when I noticed movement in my peripheral. I glanced over. Blake sat with his book unopened, staring back at me. I raised an eyebrow at him. What? His hand hovered in the space between us, down low. I bit my cheek to keep from laughing. Was that a note in his hand? What are we, in third grade now? Still, I subtly retrieved it. Gee whiz! Why’d you fold it ten times!
Finally, I read:
Are you going with me or not? I’m not going with Jen.
I stared at the paper. Should I just write, I can’t because Jen likes you? In the past, I always felt like I let my friends down when it came to things like this. I wrote two words and handed it back to him.
Hidden Monster (The Monsters Among Us Book 1) Page 4
