Illicit

by Jordan Silver

  There was a ringing in my ears and I felt close to fainting. There was something oddly familiar about his touch that had noting to do with my dreams.

  The whole thing seemed too surreal, like it was happening in another place and another time.

  “Breathe baby.”

  I was breathing, wasn’t I? Shoot who cares, what good was breathing when you were about to die? Just my luck the hottest guy ever created was going to be the one to finish me off. This was so unfair, why couldn’t I ever catch a break in my stupid life?

  He was studying me in a very odd way, his head moving this way and that, a far away look on his face, as if he wasn’t really there. It reminded me of an owl for some stupid reason.

  Why didn’t he just get it over with if he was going to finish me off? Or was he one of those predatory beings that liked to play with their prey first? And why was no one coming to my rescue here dammit? I was about to tell him to get on with it already when he finally spoke.

  “I don’t understand all of what that was about, but you’re not about to die, your life’s just beginning. Welcome home.” He kissed my forehead, and with that, the confusing character turned and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction.

  Wait, where had he come from, what was he doing here? Was he a student here? Always in my dreams he’d seemed older, bigger than life somehow. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality of him.

  “Hey, how did you know my name?” Of course he was long gone by the time I thought to ask that.

  “Azarov.” I tried the name out on my tongue. A soft breeze blew by me just then and tickled my ear and the hair on my neck.

  I looked around for the source but there was none. There were no windows in the hallway and the door at the end was closed.

  I brushed off the strange feeling as I felt my heart finally calm, only to pick up steam again, but for a whole new reason. What could it all mean?

  I headed back to class not quite sure what had just happened. I’d just met the man-boy, I’d been seeing in my dreams since I was a kid.

  At one time he’d been my only source of happiness. Lost in dreams of sunshine and wildflowers as he sat and watched, always with a smile.

  It was only as I got older that the dreams had grown dark or what I perceived to be dark anyway.

  There was always a lot of angst, heart pounding fear, and the feeling of being bound. For the last year or so, since I’d reached the age of seventeen to be exact, the dreams had changed.

  Always before they were light and comforting, almost as if my dreams were making up for the crappy life I led.

  The change was sudden and frightening, though now that I thought about it, I couldn’t really say why. It’s not like anything ever really happened, just an overwhelming feeling of...something impending.

  But how was it possible to see him here in the flesh? Was I hallucinating or something, or did he just bear a striking resemblance to my dream prince? Somehow I didn’t think so.

  There had been that feeling of knowing when he’d been dragging me from the room. And he knew my name, that wasn’t such a stretch though was it?

  Probably everyone in this school of about three hundred knew the name of the new girl.

  I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a regular occurrence here, new students dropping in. Still, I didn’t think that that was it.

  I wonder if he had anything to do with the strange feelings I’ve been having ever since I got here?

  I felt a tingling between my thighs and rubbed them together to ease the ache. My heart did a little flip in my chest as realization dawned.

  He was here, and he hadn’t killed me as I’d sometimes feared, does that mean that he’d carry out what he started in my dreams, in reality?

  I reached out and grabbed the wall for support as my knees almost buckled. I felt warmth against my neck and could’ve sworn I heard breathing in my ear, but there was no one there.

  Where had he gone to, and why was he here? He couldn’t be a student, though from the teacher’s reaction I took him to be.

  But confusingly, he’d always seemed older in my dreams; the man I’d dreamt of for so long was no high school kid.

  I blushed as I thought of some of those dreams of late. There was this new undertone of something, heady, something dark mixed with something altogether sensual.

  When I was younger, the dreams were a source of comfort, almost like there was someone watching over me while I slept.

  Many a time it had seemed that my dreams had followed me into my waking moments, or at least the feeling of comfort had, and always when I’d needed it most.

  As a teen they had changed and there was an added element of something just beyond my grasp.

  The dreams started when I was too young to understand them.

  At first they were a great source of comfort and security to a young girl who had no sure place in the world.

  Though for the first few years, I had no real memory of what they entailed. I only remember awakening in the mornings, ready to face the new day with unbridled excitement.

  My first real recollection of my life is at the age of about four or five. I know nothing before that, which, as I grew older, seemed strange.

  There were no pictures around of my mom or me, no family mementos, nothing. I didn’t understand the significance of that at such a young age. It was only as a teen that I started to question the strangeness of my upbringing.

  Mom was never forthcoming with details. Whenever I would ask about our lives and why we seemed so different from all the other families we came in contact with, she’d just shut down or change the subject. This went on for a long time and only fed my sense of loneliness and fear.

  But then the dreams had come, just when my life was about to change again, when I was going through that change from girl to woman.

  At first I didn’t know what they meant, still don’t know truth be known. I just knew they were my only solace, the only things I had to look forward to in a life that I found very confusing.

  After the first time I asked mom about the boy in my dream, the one I somehow knew was Angel and she had freaked way the hell out and moved us in the dead of night. I’d learned to keep them to myself after that.

  These dreams were like no others that I’d ever had before. They seemed more real, as if I had been transported somewhere else.

  Somewhere where I was safe and happy, where I didn’t have to live in fear of whatever phantom was tormenting my mother. Whatever demons chased her from place to place.

  Back then he would appear whenever I was feeling down or scared. I don’t know how Angel knew when I needed him but he always showed up in my dreams. I had a strange feeling that there was once a time when he hadn’t been there when I’d needed him most.

  At sixteen they had changed altogether and had become darker. There was a new sense of danger, though the underlying feeling of comfort was still ever prevalent.

  That’s when I’d started seeing him, first it was just his eyes, but gradually I’d seen him. It was silly I know, but I fell in love with that dream man.

  Then just before I’d made the decision to come here, the dreams had changed once again. Now I was always running from someone, or something. I wasn’t sure that it was he doing the chasing, but I was always aware of his presence there as well.

  Now I’d seen him in the flesh and it was all very confusing. I touched my forehead where his lips had touched me and my heart jumped. Shaking my head at my fanciful thoughts, I walked back the way I’d come.

  ***

  I made my way back to class at a snail’s pace, constantly looking over my shoulder in the hopes that he’d show up again. I had so many questions and somehow knew that he would have the answers.

  There was no sign of him by the time I reached the door, and I had no choice but to walk back to my desk, in front of the gawking students who’d all witnessed what had transpired.

  “Ms. Tanning thank heavens, what did he do
to you?” The teacher seemed spooked, for lack of a better word, and kept looking towards the door as if expecting him to follow behind me.

  “Um, noth...nothing...um, he didn’t do anything sir.” I did my whole lost girl routine in one shot. Biting lip, check, wringing hands, check, hanging head, check, shuffling feet, check. You’re such a dweeb Jazz.

  If I’d thought to avoid the attention of my new classmates I was off to a rocking start. Now, the looks were even more penetrating, and some of them were outright hostile, especially from the females.

  I didn’t even bother looking at the kid who’d been roughed up; I’d decided that he must’ve been the one who threw the paper at me. How this Azarov even knew it had happened was a mystery, since he obviously hadn’t been in class.

  “Where’d he go?” Why was a teacher so nervous of a kid anyway? Weird.

  “I’m not sure sir, he went that way.” I pointed in the general direction Azarov had taken.

  “Okay, take your seat.”

  He carried on with the rest of the class like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. At the bell I hotfooted it out of there as fast as my feet would carry me, not even paying attention to the not so subtle little jabs from the blonde cheerleader type, who was shooting daggers at me with her eyes.

  I found the rest of my classes with ease and tried my best to be as unobtrusive as possible.

  I think the word had spread that Azarov had nearly decapitated some guy, whose name I’d overheard was John Bryn, for hitting me in the head with a harmless paper ball.

  It worked to keep people away from me that was for sure, except...

  “Hi, I’m Michelle Sever and you have got to tell me how you know the delicious Azarov.” A girl with a friendly smile peered out at me from behind wire rimmed glasses.

  We were in the cafeteria for lunch break and I’d found the table closest to the wall and away from the usual hubbub of a high school lunchroom.

  Before I could open my mouth to answer her, we were joined by my first welcoming party duo and some other kids, one of which was the blonde who was now looking like she’d swallowed a lemon; whole.

  What was her problem anyway? As if I didn’t know. Why someone who looked like she did would be threatened by little old me, boggles the mind.

  She was movie star perfect and dressed like she stepped off the pages of a magazine. I’m sure it won’t take her long to figure out she had nothing to fear from this quarter.

  “So new girl, how do you know the great Azarov?” Mark sat down next to me.

  I wish someone would hurry up and tell me what the big deal was about this guy.

  “Azarov and I uh....” I clapped my hand onto the back of my neck where I’d once again felt the sensation of wind blowing across my nape and a tickling in my ear.

  Everyone was staring at me like I’d suddenly sprung an extra head, and my face was heating up like the hot Arizona desert.

  Great, now they’ll think I’m crazy.

  “Yes newbie inquiring minds want to know, where and when did you meet Our Thorn?” Blondie practically sneered, but I paid her no mind, I’d just heard his name for the first time.

  Everyone else called him Azarov. I wondered if there was some special reason she called him by his given name. And what did she mean by ‘our Thorn’?

  “Thorn.” Again I whispered his name on a sigh. As soon as the word left my mouth I felt him. I don’t know how I knew he was near, I’d only ever felt his presence in dreams before today, but somehow I knew.

  I searched the room for him almost as if compelled, as if I had no choice. I felt an unmistakable pull, but had no explanation for my odd behavior, seeing as how it had never happened before.

  The heart palpitations, the sweaty palms and that overwhelming feeling of something I couldn’t quite put into words. There was a slight fear there, but it was more a fear of the unknown than of any imminent danger.

  He was standing across the room, arms folded, one leg braced behind him on the wall, as he listened to some pixie like chick that was very animated about whatever it was she was saying.

  I felt off seeing them together, like my world had gone off kilter for a second. Was that his girlfriend? I felt a tearing in the region of my heart and wondered what in the world was wrong with me.

  I was acting so out of character for me; I’ve never been one to moon over a boy before, not even one who’d been following me in my dreams for as long as I could remember.

  But now seeing him in the flesh, up close and personal with someone else, was heart wrenching. It almost brought me to tears.

  I didn’t miss the slight imperceptible shake of his head, or the way he was staring right at me.

  The others seemed to fade to black as his eyes held mine almost spellbound. I think I’d read about this once in a book, it was called mesmerized, or something like that.

  I knew I was probably being really fanciful right about now, but something about this whole day was just too surreal.

  The girl he wasn’t listening to turned suddenly and looked at me; then she did the strangest thing. She threw her hands up in the air and stalked off in a pique.

  I tuned back into my surroundings, but barely, he was very enticing after all.

  No one else seemed to have noticed our little byplay and I looked away for one second, only to find him gone when I looked back. I felt empty somehow, empty and sad. Today sure was turning out to be one for the books.

  I didn’t see Thorn any more during class, though I searched for him in the halls between changes. Each time feeling a little more disappointed that he wasn’t there.

  Get over it Jazz, he’s way out of your league. That thought was very saddening and I had to fight not to feel sorry for myself. But he was so beautiful, and so out of my reach.

  I still didn’t know and didn’t understand what that whole thing this morning had been about though. And what had he meant by welcome home? Did he know my dad? That had to be it. Why else would he say it?

  Home, it had a nice ring to it. I smiled as I felt the warmth of those two little words touch me. I had a home.

  No one else asked me about our seeming friendship after I’d been less than forthcoming at lunch, but there seemed to be a lot of whispers on the subject.

  Needless to say, it appeared that I was now the rumored girlfriend of the school’s hot rod.

  From the little snippets I gathered, which I had to do surreptitiously since it was falsely believed that the two of us had already met and had some kind of knowledge of each other. The Azarovs were a well to do family who lived on the outskirts of town.

  Thorn had a brother and a sister who it turns out was the pixie he’d been ignoring at lunch.

  Thorn was thought to be some sort of recluse slash heartthrob. I’m not quite sure how that works, but I could see how he might gain the reputation.

  He was freaking gorgeous, with his mop of golden bronze curls, those jaguar green eyes, and dimples. Oh holy night I’m giving myself heart palpitations. No seriously, my heart was going crazy in my chest all of a sudden.

  That strange wind thing happened again, only this time I think I also felt something brush against my right cheek. I got the sensation of a warm palm holding my cheek and wanted to rub against it. Weird.

  Next, I’d probably start hearing the whispers I used to as a child, the ones mom had always said were a figment of my imagination.

  Today was making me revisit a lot of things from my past. Things that had been swept under the rug, things that I was too young to understand back then.

  But if my dream could come to life, wasn’t it possible that all the other things I’d discarded over time were also real? It was something to think about.

  I looked for him again at last bell but no dice; the halls were full of rowdy teens, on their way out the door to do heaven knows what.

  In this small town, that didn’t even have a movie theatre, I couldn’t imagine what there was to do. Not that I frequented the movies, but
still.

  Somehow I didn’t want to leave the only place where I’d seen him in the flesh. Where he’d touched me and looked into my eyes. I knew that the rest of my day was going to be shot, because he wasn’t there.

  Those few glimpses of him had only wet my appetite for more. It was a strange reaction for a girl who’d never really had any real interest in the opposite sex. Leave it to me to fall ass hard for a guy who was way beyond me.

  I wanted to ask him how it was that he was in my dreams. Though I know I would rip out my tongue and stomp it into dust before I ever built up the courage, but still it was something that needed addressing.

  I’d never heard of such a thing happening before, unless I’d seen him before and just transported him to my dream world. But that couldn’t be it, I would’ve remembered if I’d ever seen him in the flesh before.

  ‘Alright Jazz move it along.’ I was dragging my feet on the way to my truck in the hopes of catching one last glimpse of his beautiful face.

  After the realization that my dreams weren’t some sort of omen to him murdering me, I’ve become obsessed.

  Like who was he really? And how was it possible for me to have dreamt of a complete stranger my whole life without us having ever met?

  In my dreams he was just a figment of my imagination, sometimes bringing comfort and solace, sometimes a taste of fear, but always I’d known he wasn’t real.

  Thorn Azarov was very real and it would appear, very dangerous, though maybe not in the way I’d once feared.

  I got the sense that everyone had some sort of respect for him. What that stemmed from I wasn’t sure, but if the way he handled the Bryn guy was anything to go by, then it wasn’t hard to figure out.

  Suddenly, I couldn’t wait to get home and hide away in my room and replay the day’s events over and over again.

  I hastened my steps so that no one would waylay me if they were so inclined. As first days go this one had been a beauty, definitely one for the annals of my trusty diary.