The Sweet Series Box Set: Books 1-4

by Bailey Ardisone

  His angry eyes still locked with mine, he began to walk toward me. I tried with all my might to keep my emotions inside and not let it show how scared I was. That always made it worse.

  He abruptly stopped, closed his eyes, and used one hand to cover his face. He took his thumb and index finger and very roughly pinched the top of his nose. He took a loud deep breath as his body started to sway back and forth. He suddenly lunged at me, but as I quickly darted out of the way, he ended up hitting the couch. He grabbed the back with both hands and started to shout, “Clean it up!”

  When I hadn’t moved fast enough he roared with enough force for the whole town to hear, “Now!”

  I ran to the kitchen and collapsed against the counter. I took a deep breath to stall the tears that threatened to escape. Hold yourself together, Nari. I took another deep breath as I searched for a rag, ran it under water, and grabbed another dry towel and the mop.

  Ray was lying on the sofa when I made my way back, and I only hoped that he would stay there and not take punishment out on me. I really didn’t want to show up at school with a black eye and try to explain it.

  I cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could. I tried not to make a single sound in case I alerted him to my presence. I grabbed the dirty towel and the one filled with glass and took it back to the kitchen before finally putting the mop away in a rush. I washed my hands of the stench of whiskey and just about jumped out of my skin when I heard him yell, “Take out the garbage too, you sorry piece of crap!”

  I closed my eyes and tried to calm my racing heart. I tied the garbage bag up and carried it to the front door. I couldn’t get out of there soon enough.

  “And you will, yes you will pay me back for that bottle you broke, you stupid worthless—”

  I stopped listening after that and quickly got out of there. I grabbed my project and tried very hard not to slam the door behind me, as much as I wanted to. I threw the garbage in the can and stormed down the driveway. When I reached the end, I came to a stop and tried to remember to breathe like a normal person.

  I held my emotions in check and put my jacket hood on since it was chilly out. I tucked my sculpture in one arm and clung to it like it was my lifeline. I didn’t care about time or school anymore, so I took my time walking, trying to forget everything that happened. Once seeing that I was already two minutes late for school, I finally decided to kick into high gear and speed up a little, running as fast as I could. Whether I was running to school or running from him, either way…story of my life.

  I tried to race down the street, but I had a hard time keeping my backpack in check while holding my sculpture steady. My day had started out bad, but the only thing that kept me together was the fact that I had to get my project to class.

  As I ran toward the next corner, still tightly holding the sculpture, I steered it around so that I didn’t drop it. I was almost there. I carefully went to pull out my cell to check the time just once more.

  And suddenly, my nightmare came true as I slammed into a hard body followed by the sound of loud shattering of broken clay on concrete.

  “Bloody h—You alright, love?” a clipped English accented voice rang in my ears, but I could barely register what was being said. The shock I experienced while staring at my broken sculpture was enough to give anyone a stroke. I immediately had fallen to my knees the moment my sculpture had started descending.

  “M…m…my art project, it’s…completely ruined!” I tried to speak, but could barely get the words out. I put both hands on my head and closed my eyes, trying desperately to shake away my tears. I really didn’t want to start crying in front of a stranger. “I can’t believe this! I’ve been working on it for two weeks. It was incredibly special to me!”

  As I began to pick up the broken pieces of my sculpture, I looked up into the guy’s eyes and realized I was yelling at him. Keep it together, Nari. I desperately tried to hold back tears that had been threatening to surface all morning.

  “Look, I am really sorry. Is there anything I can do?” He sounded sincere, but I was just too upset to care at the moment. And what was with all the foreign people with accents in Kennebunkport all of a sudden?

  “Please, just get out of my way; I’m really late for school.” I caught a glimpse of his beautiful blue eyes as I said this, but I was too angry to really notice something like that right then. I didn’t have time for this. I walked away and headed toward the school. I needed to get to a secluded place, and fast.

  As I came upon the entrance of school, I threw my sculpture into a nearby trashcan. I couldn’t turn in a broken sculpture. I took a second and stared down at my once beautiful tree….ruined. My eyes started feeling heavy and my chest hurt deeply. I needed some time before I went into school. I didn’t want to face anyone feeling like this.

  I began to walk around the building toward the back. I saw to my left about twenty feet away was a little alcove where the red brick structure jets out, then in, and then back out again, creating a little indent about three feet wide and five feet deep. I entered the little alcove, threw my backpack against the wall, and clutched the red bricks facing the building. Slowly, I turned around and slid my body to the ground.

  As I had done so many times in the past, I conformed my body to its usual pose. I lifted my legs up toward my chest, wrapping my arms around them, and lay my chin on my knees. I felt like I physically had to hold myself together.

  I then began to lose control. It started when a single tear slid down my cheek, and the next thing I knew, I was sobbing uncontrollably, letting out everything I had tried to hold in earlier.

  I cried about everything. My sculpture, my morning, my childhood, my life; everything came tumbling back to mind as I cried freely and unrestrained. I didn’t usually cry. I was used to dealing with my dreary life. However, once I started crying about one thing, I would cry about everything. It would build up inside me for so long that once I let loose, it was hard to stop.

  I sat there for about ten minutes, letting it all pour out of me. I was glad I was alone; I would be horrified if anyone saw me like this. I slowly lifted my head and looked at my surroundings. Last night I had been so content. I had finished my sculpture. Rydan had loved it; I had sent him a picture, and he even described it as one of my best pieces.

  And now it was gone, totally ruined. How did this happen?

  I should have been paying more attention. I had been so worked up over my run-in with Ray, I just wasn’t thinking. I should have taken my time. I would have been super late for class, but my sculpture wouldn’t be broken in pieces, and I would be sitting in Literature class right now.

  Literature! Oh, crap!

  I slowly unwrapped and made myself get up, letting the building rest against my back. My chest hurt. I tried to breathe deeply, and I realized my face probably looked a mess. I hesitantly walked into the school, going straight for the restroom to clean up.

  I sat in my usual spot toward the back of Lit class that had been left empty for me since I always sat there. I looked over at Zaylie and gave her a smile, hoping she wouldn’t ask me why I was late. I tried to pay attention to what Mr. James was saying—something about monsters and how they’re portrayed. I actually had no idea what he was talking about.

  The class went by fast, and as the bell rang, I realized I pretty much missed everything that was said. I thought I heard something about homework, but I didn’t catch it. I let out a long sigh; I’d just ask Zaylie about it later.

  As soon as the bell rang, I saw her make her way over to me and knew what was coming. I didn’t want to talk about it, but I was actually glad that she would probably care enough to ask me anyway.

  “Everything okay?” she asked with worry written on her face.

  I smiled at her genuineness. “Yeah, it was just a really bad morning.” I grabbed my books, and we both walked out. She gave me a silent one-armed hug and offered kind words about how she hoped my day got better before heading to her next class.

&nbs
p; I felt like a zombie as I sat down in Algebra. The scene I desperately tried not to think about kept replaying in my mind without my consent.

  I could not focus on a single word my teacher was saying, as I once again watched my treasured sculpture plunge toward the unforgiving concrete through my mind’s eye. I covered my ears instinctively, still hearing the shattering of clay ringing loudly.

  I jerked my head up at the sudden realization of something significant. That guy—the British guy I ran into—he was the same guy who stood outside the store the other night. I knew he was the same because of the exact strange tattoo on the left side of his neck. I didn’t know why, but suddenly my cheeks burned at the memory of him. He was gorgeous.

  I swore it felt like this day turned into weeks. Would it ever end? During lunch, I grabbed my salad and went to sit outside. It was a bit chilly, but I wanted to be alone, and it was nice to get some fresh air. I found a spot in the sun and sat down to eat. I wanted to call Rydan just to hear his voice, but decided I didn’t want to bother him.

  During my free period, I put my head down to rest and ended up falling asleep, awaking a few minutes before the bell would ring. I decided to go to Art class early and talk with Mr. Isaacson.

  The room was empty, so I walked in to wait. I collected my thoughts on what I wanted to say to him. I noticed along the wall was a table that held all the other student’s sculptures. I sighed, realizing mine wouldn’t be among them.

  I started to look at what was there. Gavin, a kid I had gone to school with for years, had sculpted a bee. It was a very simple concept, but it was detailed. Another kid named Marvin sculpted a…what was that? A flower? Well, I thought it was a flower—although I couldn’t really be sure. I shrugged my shoulders and moved on.

  I moved my eyes along the sculptures, and suddenly my eyes stopped on one in particular. My whole body froze and it felt hard to breathe. I walked closer to the table and sure enough, sitting there was my weeping willow tree.

  Chapter Ten

  My weeping willow tree…not my ruined in the trash weeping willow tree—my beautiful perfect not in pieces weeping willow tree. How did this get here? What in the world was going on? And not only that, but how was it in perfect shape? A few hours ago it had been broken in pieces and thrown in the trash. How did it get from the trashcan to sitting on the table in the art room?

  I was so stunned that I jumped when Mr. Isaacson entered just as the bell rang. “Good afternoon, Ms. Woodlinn,” he said as he sat at his desk. I must've still had the stunned look on my face, because he looked up, raised his eyebrow and said, “Everything okay, Nari?”

  “Um…yeah...yes...everything’s fine,” I stammered out. I couldn’t believe it. I had a whole speech prepared, but now that my sculpture was somehow here in one piece…I…didn’t know what to do. I found my seat and tried to wipe the look off my face.

  What just happened? Did someone find and fix my sculpture? But…that was impossible. It had taken me two weeks to get it just right. The only other person who knew about it was Ms. Darlene, but surely she couldn’t have fixed it. Well, Ms. Darlene and the guy I ran into. Unless…no. No, I wouldn’t even let myself think it. There was no way he could have fixed it.

  The other students started coming in and filling their seats, but I barely noticed. My mind was plagued with thoughts on how and why my sculpture was sitting there in perfect condition. I guessed it could've been anybody really; it was just sitting there outside the school. But again, how? And why? Those two questions kept bouncing around my head.

  And of course, beautiful blue eyes belonging to that guy kept flashing in my mind as I sat mystified trying to come up with some explanation that made sense.

  It seemed only a few seconds went by when the bell rang. Mr. Isaacson told us he was going to examine our sculptures over the next few days and that we would get our grades on Friday.

  I had sat stunned the entire class. I kept glancing over at the table to see if my sculpture was really there. Sure enough, it was there every time I looked. The last time I had glanced over, I accidentally locked eyes with Ivan who was also in my Literature class. He gave me a look like, what are you looking at, freak? Then he stuck out his tongue.

  Real mature. I didn’t want to turn his way again, so needless to say I never looked at my sculpture again either. Besides, after about the sixth time I had seen it, I was pretty darn sure my sculpture really was there.

  “You’re lookin' a little pale there, Sheila. Everything alright?” Desmond asked as he walked by my desk. I still hadn’t found the ability to move from this spot. I glanced around, wondering who Sheila was.

  “Are you talking to me?” I was the only one left sitting there.

  “Who else would I be talking to?” He laughed, raising his eyebrows and looking around the room.

  “Oh, um, my name is Nari, not Sheila,” I answered, feeling a little awkward. I didn’t want to make him feel bad for forgetting my name.

  “Oh yeah, I know that. Sometimes Sheila just comes out, sorry. It’s our female equivalent to mate.” Now he was the one who looked awkward.

  “Ha! I guess I have a lot to learn, huh?” I finally stood up, shaking my head. I swore I learned something new every time I was around Zaylie or Desmond.

  “But you’re okay then? You’re not going to like, faint on me or anything are you?” He looked at me like I was a terrified animal ready to bite.

  “I’m fine, really. Just having an absolute crazy day is all. But thanks. I really appreciate it.” Maybe bizarre was a better description—or downright disturbing.

  “Cool. Later, Sheila.” He winked with a huge grin as he walked away.

  “Later,” I laughed, feeling a little better already. But only a tiny bit. I gathered my things and made my way out of the room.

  I was so thankful school was finally over. I needed to get out of there. I didn’t think I had ever felt so desperate to meet up with Rydan at the Willow. I needed his calming effect—my nerves felt like they had been on permanent "fry" mode lately.

  Whoa...I shivered as I stepped outside into the frigid air. It was getting colder. I hurriedly put my sweatshirt on and headed toward my retreat.

  I had no idea how I'd explain what happened earlier to Rydan. How did I explain a miracle I didn’t even understand myself? He would think I was nuts, bonkers, a freak.

  I got to the Weeping Willow but was disappointed because Rydan wasn’t there yet. He always beat me there and was waiting for me.

  Just as I sat down, Rydan came walking out of the forest of birches behind the pond, and instant relief washed over me.

  “Hey,” I said to him. “At first I thought you weren’t here. What were you doing in the woods?”

  “Looking for something,” he answered in a saddened, hushed tone, but he immediately put a smile on his face and said, “I have a surprise for you.”

  I wondered what he had been searching for, but his smile and a thought of a present perked me up. “A surprise! For me?” I asked excitedly. “What is it?” I was too impatient.

  He pulled something out of his back pocket as he told me to close my eyes and hold out my hands. I instantly complied with a big smile on my face. This was why I needed Rydan. He could always surprise me and cheer me up when I was down, and he didn’t even realize he was doing it. Or even that I had needed it. I was already in a better mood.

  “No peeking,” he said as I felt him put something in my hands. After a few seconds of silence, he chuckled. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

  I opened my eyes and looked down. Sitting in my hands was a small digital camera. It was so little it would fit perfectly in my pocket.

  “You always said you wanted to take pictures of this spot. The pond, the tree; now you can,” he said as he sat down beside it looking at me.

  “Ry, it’s wonderful! I love it! It’s so…me!” I laughed and met his gaze. It really was me—small and purple, almost the same color as my eyes. I gave him a huge smile as I turned
the camera on and aimed to take a picture of him.

  He instantly put his hands in front of his face.

  “Come on, Ry. I want you in my first picture…please.” I stuck out my lower lip to pout.

  He rolled his eyes but uncovered his face. “Just the first one.”

  I smiled and took the first photo of my best friend sitting next to the most magical place in the world, completely forgetting about my depressing and mysterious day.

  I walked into Literature class feeling much better than I did yesterday, all thanks to my best friend. I ended up going crazy with my new camera and took way too many pictures, filling up the SD card in only a few hours. I then spent the night going through them and deleting what I could to make room, but it was very difficult deciding what to keep and what to delete.

  I could feel a huge grin on my face from the memory, but as I approached my usual desk in the back, it quickly disappeared. I had no idea what look took the grin’s place, believing it must be something similar to a deer caught in headlights or the look a child has from just coming face-to-face with a ghost. Regardless, I had no doubt whatever it was perfectly demonstrated the word "shocked."

  There, in my seat not to mention, was the sexiest guy I had ever seen. Oh, and by the way, as if my life couldn’t get any crazier, it was the boy I ran across twice within the last week.

  It faintly registered to me that I was staring, but what captured me and kept me firm in one spot is that he was staring right back.

  I reluctantly pulled my eyes away from his, realizing I could have seriously drown in their exquisite ocean-blue color that seemed to want to pull me under, to quickly take the rest of him in. He leaned all the way back in his chair—no, my chair—wearing dark jeans and a plain white undershirt with his right leg stretched out.

  I unconsciously walked toward him. He had his right hand in his pocket and his black hair was in a layered mess, resembling a rock star, with just a few strands falling over his eyes. I glanced at his tattoo for just a second before meeting his gaze again.