Ephemeral

by Addison Moore

  The weariness—the droning fatigue of morning, makes me think of Tucker, my best friend Amber, Mom and Lacey back in Cider Plains and what they must be doing right now. Most likely running around, getting ready for school. I glance over at Jen sprawled out on Casper’s bed with her long golden limbs hanging off the mattress. It was nice that she wanted to comfort me. She said she’d stay with me until Casper came back.

  In the shower, I think of Wesley and his sweet lips. I dreamed of those wondrous, bewitching kisses on a loop. It was bliss.

  After I dry off with a towel thicker than any blanket I ever wrapped myself in back home, I step into the closet and touch Casper’s things. Her jackets and sweaters hang like ghosts. If she really ran away, why didn’t she take them? I guess she could have dressed in layers, thrown a few things in a backpack, but I find that doubtful. Casper was off to solve the riddle of the Sphinx, and the Sphinx just so happened to open its mouth and swallow her whole.

  I curl my hand around a silk white blouse, soft and slippery.

  I knew her less than a week, and I’m mourning her—just knowing she was alone with those beasts in the forest inspires an agonizing ache in the pit of my stomach. I can still hear the fear in her voice, and it scrapes me raw on the inside.

  Wes and his staunch denial of the event is the equivalent of drinking bleach and having someone tell you it wasn’t poison.

  I pull on a pair of jeans and a cream angora sweater that clings to my skin in every good way.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” Jen collects a towel and runs the shower for herself. “You can’t wear that. It’s not free dress.”

  “Oh, right.” I head back into the closet. A row of navy uniforms line the rear wall. Skirts, bobby socks, white pressed dress shirts and sweaters. I pull out the blazer and examine it. A gold coat of arms sits proud on the left, two lions embroiled in a death match with the words Ephemeral Academy embroidered above in red lettering, the words Where Legacies are Born scrolled across the bottom.

  I do a quick change and grab the backpack, the laptop and a few loose school supplies that were on my desk when I arrived.

  I’m too nervous to eat, so I skip the dining hall and step outside for my first day of fabricated academia. What the hell kind of fantasy offers the benefit of education? Maybe I’m in hell, and all of the classes will be mind-bogglingly difficult. You don’t pass and they feed you to the Minotaur.

  I take in a lungful of fresh morning air, cold and sterile. An outright feeling of terror hits me as I look over at the black of the forest.

  I’m sort of rooting for Casper to have run away. I’d hate to think of the alternative.

  It would be insane if Wes were right, and my old life was just some dream.

  My heart breaks for Lacey all over again.

  It’s because of Lacey I know Wes can never be right.

  Wes emerges from the powder white fog, dark like a shadow, his smile radiating all of his earthly eminence.

  “Morning.” He pulls me in by the waist, warms my hips with his strong hands. The smile dissipates from his face. “Talked to Fletch last night.” He leans in and presses a quick kiss against my lips—sets my day on fire before I ever see the sun.

  “Fletcher?” Old Fletch could care less that Wes and I were seeing each other. We could have gone at it on the couch full throttle. He would have simply sat down next to us and turned on the TV—munched on a bag of chips in the process.

  “He said he’d break my balls if I hurt you.” Wes gives a wicked grin.

  “Sounds like entire generations of Parker’s are at stake.” I trace his dark brow as it peaks over his eye. “I guess you better not hurt me.”

  A group of girls barrel past us, lost in conversation. They turn around independently and gawk at our interlocked hands, scan my face like they were memorizing it for later.

  “Seniors,” he whispers. “They’ll be gone in a year.”

  “So will you.” The thought of being here, anywhere, without Wes terrifies me. I reach up and run my hand through the back of his hair. It holds the moisture from his shower, thick and slippery.

  “I’m going to T.U.” The divots hollow out in his cheeks as he presses out a bleak smile. “I’ll be like Jen, take up residence on campus.”

  It’s as if our newfound joy were already clouded over with the shadow of graduation.

  “You can work at Henderson.” I jump a little when I say it. Only because I know where it is in proximity to my own dorm. I envision myself striding in after midnight, doing the walk of shame just before dawn.

  “I think I should work at Austen House.” He gives a naughty smile. “Make sure you brush your teeth before bedtime. Tuck you in.”

  The thought of Wes tucking me in at night exhilarates me—makes me want to drag him there right now to rehearse the effort.

  A cry erupts from a distal part of the school grounds. My head explodes in a giant ball of fire from the sound, and I snatch at my temples to stave off the pain.

  “Laken!”

  “Did you hear that?” I snap my neck over toward the forest as the residue of my name continues to echo.

  “Hear what?” Wes is mildly alarmed, but he’s trying to hide it, I can tell. “Are you in pain?”

  “I thought I heard someone call my name.” I look past the giant statue of the Minotaur, past rows of sterile dorms, to the forest that surrounds the north end of the property. The trees wave wildly as though they were taunting me. “Look at that.” I point over to the strange sight.

  “It’s just windy.” He spins me on my heels and guides me over to the English building with his arm low over my shoulder.

  It’s not windy. The fact my hair hasn’t suctioned to my lip gloss can attest to the lack of that particular weather phenomenon. I look back over at the trees, and they’re perfectly still as though they never moved a bough, as if they were incapable.

  “Laken!” Carter bounds over just as we enter the English building. “We have four classes together. That includes cheer.”

  “Fantastic.” I don’t bother hiding the fact I’m not enthused about cheer. “Isn’t there a law in place forbidding underage girls from entertaining men of various ages?”

  “Only if they’re shoving dollar bills in your panties. This is school spirit,” Carter says it with the utmost regard for the kick pant posse.

  Obviously, I’ve crossed some invisible line with her, and now our entire friendship is under review. Perfect. The first bell hasn’t rung, and I’m already on the verge of losing the only friend I’ve managed to obtain.

  “So, you hear anything new about Casper?” Her gold hair falls in ringlets around her face, perfectly coiled and neat.

  “Nothing.” My heart rate increases. I can hear that voice calling me, reverberating around in my skull, fresh as the first time. Something about the way those trees waved in a spastic tremor was unnerving. I’m pretty sure pines lack the ability to bend in that manner.

  “Everything okay out here?” A dark-haired man with a manufactured smile swings open the door to the classroom on our left. His words draw out unnaturally long as if he’s not from around here. He wears his dark hair like a cap, a slight wave over the forehead. He’s handsome in a creepy sort of way, with the promising beginnings of a lewd smile on his lips. Those laughing eyes of his are saying something. There’s something sinister just beneath the surface.

  “We’re great.” Carter gives him an open, dirty look as she says it.

  He nods as he ducks inside the classroom. The plasticized smile never leaves his face.

  “That’s Mr. Edinger—he’s an ass.” Carter frowns in his direction long after he abandons the doorway.

  “Lovely,” I say.

  “Coop.” Wes, flags someone down amidst the sea of bodies streaming in the hall.

  “You’re going to love Coop.” Carter jumps up and waves him over. “Everyone loves Cooper Flanders.” Carter lunges at someone behind me with an all-out hug. The crowd dissolves
just enough to expose them. It’s not until she comes up for air that I see who he really is.

  It’s the boy from the forest.

  And his name is Cooper Flanders.

  16

  Pleased to Meet You

  “This is Fletcher’s sister, Laken.” Wes pats me on the shoulder as he introduces me to the caramel-haired boy with eyes the color of a stone grey sky.

  He’s gorgeous in every single way, and my heart seizes unnaturally at the sight of him as if it knows it shouldn’t, but biology insists.

  Truthfully, I wasn’t expecting to see him. Not like this—maybe with an abrupt encounter in the forest, with a zombie wrapped around my neck, but not here with Wes of all people, providing us with formal introductions.

  “Nice to meet you, Laken.” He doesn’t offer a hand, just a warm smile that makes me feel safe and protected.

  He’s met me, sort of. I wonder if this is just another head game percolating to the surface. For a moment I consider calling him out on it right here in front of Wes and Carter, but don’t.

  I’d like to thank him for saving my life, but I get the impression that’s something best saved for later.

  The bell rings shrill just over our heads. Its piercing scream sends a pang, sharp as a blade, right through my skull. I close my eyes a second to try and stave off the pain.

  Wes pulls me in and relaxes his arm around me like we’re a real couple. Cooper looks from me to Wes with a newfound hesitancy, evicts the smile from his face as he trails Wesley’s hand hovering over my chest.

  A girl with dark, gorgeous curls pulls Carter to the side, and they start in on an animated conversation before heading to class.

  “I wanted to see about getting together with your dad.” Wes readjusts his backpack.

  “My dad?” Cooper washes his eyes over me, puzzled, as if injecting his father into the conversation changed his opinion of me.

  “I’d better go. I’ll catch up with you later, Coop.” Wes looks back at me. “Meet you in the quad at nutrition?”

  “I’ll be there.” I watch as he disintegrates into a sea of bodies.

  “I saw more creatures.” It speeds out of me. I don’t wait for the niceties to begin, just jump right in.

  “You went back?” Cooper looks genuinely alarmed by this. A tiny dimple in the shape of a teardrop implodes just above his cheek, and my stomach does a revolution.

  “Yes,” I say, trying to focus in on the monsters in my life and disregard his comely features. “And you know that girl that disappeared?”

  “Casper?” He leans in and whispers her name soft across my cheek causing a warm shiver to pulsate through my body.

  “I followed her into the forest.” The words break as I try to keep my emotions in check. “She was screaming.”

  His chin tucks back a notch as he takes me in. He rounds those pale steel eyes over me as if he had been dying to do so since the day we met.

  “You think something took her?”

  “Ate her—killed her,” I add. “You have to believe me. Something’s not right here.” I don’t know why I feel the need to spill my guts to a guy whose name I’ve known less than thirty seconds, but ironically it feels right—far more comfortable than telling Wes anything these past few days.

  He darts a glance in both directions before giving a soulful look that expresses so much more than sorrow. “Why would you go back in the forest?”

  “I followed Casper. I wanted to tell her about the Spectator and ran into an entire herd of these things called Fems. Wesley saved me,” I whisper his name like secret.

  He pulls his cheek up on one side as if considering it.

  “Well then, you must be a part of the inner circle.” His eyes darken as he penetrates me with his gaze.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  There’s something familiar about him, and not in the “I’ve seen you in Kansas” or “in my dreams” kind of way, just something oddly serene that puts me at ease. Although, I don’t get why he’s accusing me of being a part of some inner circle. I find the idea of me being in the know on anything around here absurd at the moment.

  The bell rings again and bodies suction into the nearest classrooms, exposing a dull glare on the pale, stone floors.

  Dark-lacquered wood arches in rows all the way down this magnificently long hall. It makes it feel like we’re standing in the skeleton of some enormous prehistoric creature, a land mammal, or a whale. I’ve become Jonah waiting for the monster to vomit me back into Kansas. I’ll stop running from God, if he’ll stop hiding from me.

  “Nobody goes in those woods. I’m warning you not to do it, Laken.” My body electrifies in a trail of goose bumps as he whispers my name. “Casper wouldn’t have gone in unless she felt a need.”

  “Maybe it was a shortcut?”

  “More like a maze,” he counters.

  “So why do you think she went in?” There’s an urgency in my voice. On some level I believe he has all the answers.

  Cooper takes a step back, scours the vicinity with his ashen eyes. “She was lured.”

  “Lured? By who?”

  Mr. Edinger steps out into the hall—narrows in on us with a look of admonition.

  “Feel free to resume your conversation inside.” He gives a sardonic smile as he tries to usher us into the room with a wave. “I’m sure the rest of the class will be interested in whatever it is you’re speaking about,” he says before disappearing.

  “Lured by who or what?” I can’t let it go. I could care less about class, tardy slips, or detention—people are disappearing, being lured into the woods and ripped to shreds by monsters the rest of the world doesn’t even know exist.

  “Maybe it was the same person who rescued you from the herd of Fems?” He tugs his head to the side as if offering an apology.

  “Wes?”

  “Wes.”

  There’s no way in hell he’s right.

  As suspected, Mr. Edinger is clearly a sadist. He hands out an impossible syllabus that reeks of disaster as far as my GPA is concerned, if, in fact, I have one. Speaking of which, I have no idea where I fall on the educational Richter scale. I’ll have to ask Wes to fill me in on all things scholastic regarding myself.

  I stop short of sorting through the ever-growing pile of papers and evict the thought of Wes having something to do with Casper’s disappearance.

  Cooper turns around and gives a bleak smile as he hands me a small stack of handouts.

  “There’s more? This is going to be a nightmare.”

  “Heard you’re from Rycroft.” His lips give a slight curve as he says it.

  I don’t remember Wes mentioning that in our introduction. An involuntary smile creeps up at the thought of Cooper Flanders conducting a full-blown investigation on the fictitious Laken Anderson.

  “Ephemeral is a walk in the park compared to your old school,” he says.

  “Yeah, well, maybe so, but this class isn’t.” I glance down at the mountain amassing in front of me. “And, technically, at my old school, I could finish my homework on the bus in less than fifteen. This is months of endless essays, which, by the way, I suck at.”

  Mr. Edinger comes by pushing a cart and flops a bloated, rectangular book on my desk—dark crimson, thick as a brick.

  “For your reading pleasure.” He gravels it out. I glance up to thank him and catch him spearing me with his eyes the color of root beer. “I hear you’re drawn to fiction. I had a chance to speak with some of your old teachers. They say you have a real gift with names and dates. Sounds like history will suite you as well.” He lets his words hang in the air like a threat before moving on.

  Cooper stares into me as though he were amused by my frantic state of being. “Looks like we found the teacher’s pet.”

  “You think this is funny?” I call him out on it. I have a feeling there won’t be a lot of secrets between Cooper and me. At least there better not be. “I’m terrible at this kind of stuff.”

 
“Sorry.” His voice rasps it out low. “I promise, lit is not the end of the world.” He gives a slow blink. “I’m a black belt at essays. If you want, I can go over them with you—see how they’re shaping up.”

  “Thanks.” I try to act unimpressed, but I can feel the heat rising to the apples of my cheeks, giving away the fact my heart is racing at the prospect of spending an inordinate amount of time with him—probably some aftereffect of him saving me from that creature. Obviously my hormones are forever in his debt. I hate not being able to control my body like that. “I think we have more pressing things to discuss than lit.” I lean in, a little miffed. “Like the fact you’ve all but accused Wesley of Casper’s disappearance.”

  He hesitates before saying anything, pressing in with a mix of pity and sorrow.

  “Laken, how well do you really know Wesley Paxton?”

  “I don’t know Wesley Paxton.” I lift my brows amused. “I know Wesley Parker.”

  “Who’s Wesley Parker?”

  “Who’s Wesley Paxton?” I cock my head to the side happy to take control of the conversation, albeit lopsided and psychotic.

  He stretches to retrieve more papers, then passes back another four sheets.

  “Remember how I warned you not to go into the forest?” His gentle eyes make me want to dive in and swim in their knowledgeable pools for hours.

  I give a brief nod as though he were about to tell me something profound.

  “Some people are just as dangerous as that forest.” He practically mouths the words.

  “And you think Wesley is one of those people?”

  He expels a short breath, taking me in—gauging to see if he can trust me with his final answer.

  “I know he is.”

  17

  Tears for Cheers