by Mary Martel
***
I knocked lightly on the door. I thought about ringing the doorbell but didn’t because I didn’t want to wake anybody up.
I looked down at my feet as I waited for Tyson to answer the door. Today I had picked black flip flops with red straps that had little black sparkling jewels on them. They were really pretty. I had black skinny jeans on with a red belt that matched the red color on my flip flops. I had a red tank top on underneath a thin black zip up hoodie. I’d left the hoodie unzipped and had the sleeves pushed up my forearms. Since red and black were the theme for the day I had my wet hair pushed back from my forehead with a wide red headband. My makeup was light, I’d stuck with mascara and lip gloss. I hadn’t had time for much else.
The door opened and I was greeted with a rough, “Morning.”
That voice.
Quinton, Tyson’s Uncle had answered the door. God, why couldn’t Tyson have been ready and waiting for me outside?
“Come on in.”
I looked up as I stepped through the door and almost stumbled over nothing. Quinton was shirtless and wearing only silver basketball shorts that rode ridiculously low on his narrow hips. The flames went halfway up his forearms. His arms were thick and corded with muscles, his biceps bulging. His chest and stomach were sculpted to perfection, toned, his washboard abs looked rock hard and I didn’t think there was any loose skin on his stomach to pinch. There was a thick, rope of dark hair that traveled down his belly and disappeared into his shorts. He had a light sprinkling of dark hair scattered across his chest. And, most surprising of all, there were silver barbells through each of his nipples.
Very quickly, but probably not quick enough for him to have not noticed my eyes as they perused his body, I looked back at my flip flop covered feet.
“You’re here early,” he said as he shut the door. “Not that I mind, of course. I think the twins just now managed to drag their asses out of bed and I haven’t seen Ty yet this morning.”
Apparently, Tyson had managed to get back into the house without being noticed this morning. I wondered if Quinton had known Tyson had been at my house for part of the night.
“Hey,” a long, lean fingertip covered in thin white scars appeared in front of my face and dipped under my chin. Very gently, he tipped my face up, forcing me to take my eyes off my feet and meet his dark eyes. “You alright?”
My whole face tingled, radiating warmth from either his touch or his strange heat.
“Yeah,” I croaked out. A total lie.
Thankfully, Tyson appeared at the bottom of the stairs, saving me from having to say anything else. He wore all black the same as he had done all week.
Quinton made me slightly uneasy. And it had nothing to do with his rough exterior and his tattoos or even his damn nipple piercings and the whole bad boy persona he seemed to fit into. It had to do with the dangerous air that hovered around him like a physical thing. It’s like he had his own, personal cloud vibrating with emotion.
My skin burned where he’d touched me.
Tyson frowned at his Uncle who was still touching my chin. I took a step back and Quinton’s scarred finger fell away.
“Where’ve you been?” Quinton growled at his nephew.
“None of your damn business,” Tyson shot back. He grabbed my hand and intertwined our fingers. He held my hand as he dragged me out of the house.
I made the mistake of looking over my shoulder on the way out the door. Quinton’s eyes were locked on my ass. I didn’t bother shutting the door. He could do it himself. I could see the beginning of a habit, me never closing the door after I’d walked out of it and expecting them to do it themselves.
As Tyson dragged me to his car parked in the driveway I asked, “Were you not supposed to come over last night?”
I did not want to be the cause of problems between Tyson and his Uncle.
He opened the passenger side door of his Audi for me and frowned. “What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t I have been able to come over?”
“Your Uncle…”
He laughed harshly. “Is a jealous dick who needs to get over himself.”
“What?” Why did he always say things that confused me?
“Never mind, Ariel girl, just get in the car. I’m hungry.”
I sat my butt in the seat, swung my legs inside and placed my backpack on the floor at my feet. Tyson shut the door and rounded the hood to the driver’s side door. He climbed in and soon we were backed out of the driveway and zooming down the road faster than the legal speed limit.
I put my seatbelt on and relaxed into the leather. I was tired. A night of interrupted sleep, episodes of Friday Night Lights, sleeping next to Tyson for a few hours and waking up early had drained me of energy.
“I don’t want to go to school,” I whined. “I want to go home and go back to bed.”
“I can’t skip school. If I do, Quinton will be all over my ass. He likes having something to bitch at me about.”
I slid my head to the side and watched his profile while he drove. “Do you and your Uncle not get along?”
His hands tightened around the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. Maybe I shouldn’t have asked him about his Uncle. Too late now.
“We get along just fine. We used to get along better before my parents died and we got stuck with each other.”
I flinched. Someone had mentioned him moving here to live with his Uncle after his parents died but he’d never mentioned it himself. What did one say to something like that? I’m sorry? I’m sorry seemed kind of lame when you think about it.
I cleared my throat and tried to skirt around the elephant. “How old is he?”
“Twenty-one.”
They were both so young. He must have been nineteen when Tyson’s parents died. I couldn’t imagine being nineteen and having to be the guardian to a fifteen-year-old.
“You’re awfully close in age for him to be your Uncle.”
“My grandpa liked women. Lots and lots of women. Thankfully, he only managed to knock up two of them. Quinton was my dad’s baby brother but my dad treated him more like a son. And my dad was the only real dad Quint ever had. My grandpa never gave a shit about his kids so it hit Quint just as hard as it hit me when my parents died.”
At least they knew who their biological dads were. That was more than I had going for me.
“Where’s your dad?”
Of course he had to ask me that. “I don’t know. I never knew who he was. My mother has been a stripper for as long as I can remember and there have always been a ton of guys around. I asked her once who my dad was, if he was one of the guys who came around on a regular basis. She refused to tell me, then she got angry.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he whispered. “Sucks.”
I shrugged. I didn’t know if it sucked or not because I had never had a dad to miss so I had never really known what I was missing out on.
The car fell quiet after that and Tyson pulled up to a drive thru. He ordered for us and when I tried to give him money he gave me a dirty look. I let it go. If he wanted to buy me breakfast what did I care.
He got our bag of food and set it aside. He drove to the school and parked in the student parking lot. We ate in the car while we watched the parking lot slowly fill up.
After finishing his last breakfast sandwich, he asked me, “So, Ariel Kimber, what do you think the fourth day of school will bring us?”
It was only the fourth day of school? I groaned. It felt like weeks had already passed us by.
“I don’t know,” I told him honestly. Then I joked, “Maybe Chucky will realize he’s gay and madly in love with both of the twins and will never, ever look my way again.”
“The twins aren’t gay, Ariel,” he chuckled.
“I didn’t suggest that they were, Tyson. I just thought it would be fun to watch Chucky try to flirt with them.”
He laughed. “It would definitely be fun to watch and they’d deserve it.”
What woul
d be better than watching that would be having Chucky leaving me alone. Tyson made no comment on that.
We were getting out of the car when the twins pulled their abnormally large black truck into the parking spot next to Tyson’s Audi.
I hadn’t noticed before how similar the twins dressed. Abel had on a tight, long-sleeved grey Henley, dark blue jeans and black boots. Addison wore a tight, black long-sleeved Henley, dark blue jeans and black boots. They both wore matching black belts with silver belt buckles. The only difference in their clothes was the color of their Henley’s. I wondered if they shared clothes. They were exactly the same size. Both boys wore black cords around their necks with silver, half-moons dangling from them.
“You ready for this?” Abel asked me in greeting as we headed towards the school building.
I shrugged. “Day four and the possibilities are endless.” I smirked at Tyson and winked, thinking about how awesome it would be if Chucky set his sights on the twins instead of me. Tyson laughed quietly from beside me.
“Where were you coming from this morning?” Addison asked Tyson.
“Ariel’s,” Tyson replied casually, like it wasn’t a big deal he’d spent the better part of the night at my house. “Her folks left in the middle of the night because Mr. Cole’s brother got into a bad car wreck and she didn’t want to be home alone.”
I wasn’t smirking anymore. I wanted to hit him and I wanted to hit him hard. I hadn’t actually come out and said I didn’t want to be home alone. He made me sound like a baby. I mean, I didn’t want to be alone but still… he didn’t need to come out and say it to the others.
“She can stay with us tonight,” Abel said, making my mouth drop open. He caught the surprised look on my face and added quickly, “There’s plenty of room, pretty girl, and no one will mind you being there.”
I shook my head and, without a word or a glance back, I headed off to first hour. I hoped day four didn’t suck as hard as day one and day three had. Day two hadn’t been so bad. I could really use a repeat.
Chapter Fifteen
During first hour, Chucky had been forced to work with the poor, unfortunate soul who he had picked on the first day of school to be his partner. Then again, his partner was the Pretty Princess’s male twin so I didn’t really feel sorry for him in the least. I was simply happy to have Chucky away from me. There’d been no absurd proposals to beat up the person who’d messed up my face in exchange for dates. I was grateful. In fact, he didn’t talk to me at all.
The first half of my day breezed by and before I knew, it I found myself sitting outside for lunch with Tyson sliding a tray full of cafeteria food in front of me. It was as loaded as it had been the day before. Strangely, I could see this turning into an every day ritual because packing my lunch seemed like a chore I had no intention of doing on the daily. I wanted to offer him money but knew after his reaction this morning when I tried to pay for my own breakfast that he wouldn’t enjoy me trying to give him money. I think it went hand in hand with his weird need to try and take care of me. And part of me liked it. If he wanted to pay for my lunch every day what did I care? I didn’t, but I’d never forget to thank him because I didn’t want him to think I would ever take advantage of him in any way.
I mumbled my thanks as I picked up a container of curly fries. Like the day before, they waited for me to pick out what I wanted to eat first, then Abel and Tyson went for what was left over. Addison pulled a paper bag out of his backpack like he had the day before. Guess he wasn’t nearly as lazy as the rest of us. Good for him.
I had a curly fry in my raised hand and half way to my mouth when I heard the door open behind me and female giggles. I visibly cringed as I stuffed the fry in my mouth.
I ignored the Pretty Princess who’s name I still did not know, her minion, her male twin who I was going to start referring to as Ken, Chucky and three other guys as they settled into the table beside ours.
“Hey, Ariel,” Chucky cheerfully called out to me.
I didn’t even bother to look his way.
“I don’t think she likes you,” one of the girls cooed.
“She will,” Chucky said, his voice had lost its cheerful lilt and instead sounded deeper, darker. I did not like his tone one bit.
I looked up from my food and met clear blue eyes. Addison watched me carefully, like he was waiting for me to do something, to react in some way. I had no intention of giving Chucky a reaction. If I could not react when he tripped me on the first day of school this was nothing to me. And to show him how uncomfortable he made me would be to give him power over me and possibly make him feel victorious.
Beside me, Tyson stood in one graceful, fluid movement that surprised me. I looked up at him to find his face dark, his eyes blazing dangerously and back to radiating menace. In that moment, he looked very much like his Uncle Quinton and the Tyson I had met on the first day of school.
I grabbed him by his belt and tried to pull him back down. “Tyson, no. Sit back down, please,” I pleaded quietly. I had a feeling Tyson was as sick of Chucky as I was. Only difference between the two of us was he seemed willing to do something about it. And that scared me. I didn’t mind violence. My mother had conditioned me to accept people’s violent behaviors. But the thought of Tyson possibly getting hurt because of me scared me. What scared me more was the fact he didn’t even seem to think about it, one second he was sitting beside me then the next he was up and ready to take on Chucky.
“Tyson,” I pleaded with my voice. He aimed those dark and dangerous eyes down at me. They roamed over my face before he sat back down stiffly beside me.
“You don’t have to put up with that asshole, Ariel,” he growled at me. “And you don’t have to worry about me, I can take care of myself.”
I nodded and picked up my discarded fries. He was right, of course. I didn’t have to put up with Chucky’s bullshit, but that didn’t mean I needed to feed into it either.
I opened my mouth to tell him as much when loud, wet sounding coughing came from the picnic table beside us. The sound drew my attention and I watched in wide eyed horror as Chucky coughed into his hand and blood spewed out of his mouth. One of the girls screamed.
“What the hell?” Chucky asked as he dropped his hand to wrap both arms around his stomach and he hunched in on himself. Another cough wracked his body and this time blood sprayed out of his mouth as if he were a fountain.
“Help,” someone screamed. “Get help.”
I blinked in shock as I watched Chucky curl into himself, cough loudly and spew blood all over the lap of the Pretty Princess sitting next to him. She screamed high and shrill as she scrambled backwards in an attempt to escape him. She fell off the bench seat and landed with a smack on the cement, right on her ass. The front of her shirt was splattered with dark red spots. The front of her white short shorts had gotten the worst of it. The dark red had seeped into the white fabric. She looked like she’d gotten her period and was simply letting it flow free, like one of those weird hippies I’d seen on tv recently. I am woman, hear me roar. Yikes.
I sat there frozen, as if too afraid to move. It didn’t seem real and I was afraid if I moved it would suddenly be all too real for me.
The blonde Pretty Princess was frantically swiping her hand down the front of her short shorts, trying to wipe the blood away. But it was too late for that. The blood had already soaked into the fabric, staining it. The only thing she succeeded in was further smearing it. She pulled her hands away to stare down at her crimson covered palms and she screamed.
The door opened behind our table and crashed into the brick wall. Help had finally arrived just as my body began to tremble slightly.
Adults rushed forward to help Chucky and, thankfully, they blocked my view of the whole bloody mess. Once I could no longer see him I was finally able to look somewhere else.
Swallowing thickly past the lump in my throat, I took in my new friends. They weren’t looking at the table beside us or the bloody mess all around u. T
hey were looking at each other. Both twins stared at Tyson with dark faces and strangely almost glowing eyes. Tyson’s eyes kept shifting from one twin to the other.
“Do you think…” Abel started.
Tyson shook his head. “He wouldn’t…” He shook his head frantically. “No, he would. I know that, I do. But not without a reason and we’ve given him no reason. I’ve tried to be very careful about anything to do with Ariel when he’s around.”
I watched them quietly, taking in everything I could. There was something else going on here, I’d always known that. It bothered me that I didn’t know what it was, but I hadn’t said anything about it yet because I didn’t want to be rude. Now I wasn’t sure I cared whether or not I came off as rude because whenever they got weird they seemed to be talking about me and if it had to do with me then I had a right to know what the hell was going on. Right? I thought so, too.
Addison and Abel shared a look that spoke louder than actual words ever could.
It was Addison who spoke. “He walked in on us while we were talking about how much we didn’t like Chucky because of the way he treated Ariel. He asked us for specifics and we gave them to him. We didn’t think he’d actually do anything about it. Certainly not,” he waved a hand in the general direction of the chaos beside us, “something like this.”
“What’s going on?” I asked quietly.
“Quinton is very protective of you,” Tyson told me.
I blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” I’d only met his Uncle twice before if you didn’t count my dream and him watching me from the woods, which I was most certainly not. For my own sanity.
Tyson shook his head. “I will explain it to you when we get home.”
Was he trying to say he thought his Uncle Quinton had something to do with what was happening to Chucky? Did Quinton do something to him? How would that even be possible?
More loud, wet coughing dragged my attention back to Chucky’s table. The Pretty Princess had been helped up to her feet and one of the teachers had an arm wrapped around her shoulders protectively. She bent over at the waist and threw up blood all over her feet and the feet of the teacher. The teacher screamed, dropped her arm and stumbled backwards. More people rushed out the door, faculty and students alike. I never understood the need to want to watch someone else at their worst. Like people who stop to gawk at the carnage left in the wake of a horrible, mangled car crash. Maybe normal people with nothing but good in their lives needed something to feel bad about. Not me, I already had enough bad in my life, I needed no more, thank you very much.
