Swift

by Heather London

  The room was pitch-black, so I began touching the wall in order to find the light. I flipped on the switch and made my way over the sink. I turned the knob, blasting the cold water and splashing it on my face and around the back of my neck, hoping it would help stop the room from spinning. I was still not sure what had happened out there. The headache had felt the same as the ones that had accompanied my dreams. But that was exactly why it was so strange; I only got the headaches after my dreams, not during the day when I was awake and functioning. Or at least trying to function.

  How am I going to explain myself to Abby? She’s probably out there thinking I’m some sort of crazy person. The only choice I had had was to lie. What else could I do? Tell her the truth? I would tell Abby that the paint fumes had gotten to me. I mean, it could happen right? Hell, it was better than telling her that I was a freak that had weird visions and horrible headaches at a moment’s notice.

  But I knew the truth; I knew that the paint fumes hadn’t caused this. I just didn’t know what to do about it. Maybe it was time to tell Aunt Rose, even if she would make me take a thousand tests and—even scarier—go see a therapist.

  After taking in a few deep breaths and splashing some more water on my face, I felt strong enough to go and face what was on the other side of the door. As much as I wanted to stay in that bathroom for the rest of my life, I knew I couldn’t. Maybe some fresh air would do me good. And it would play well with the whole toxic-paint-fumes excuse I was planning on using.

  Chapter Ten

  I opened the bathroom door and saw Abby standing outside of it, wide-eyed, with a concerned look on her face. “Are you okay?”

  “Fine.” I swallowed hard. “I think the paint fumes got to me, that’s all. I just need some fresh air.”

  I turned to walk back down the long hallway that emptied into the living room and eventually the front door. Then something distracted my train of thought. In front of me, Blake was leaning up against the entrance to the living room, staring right at me, his arms crossed. Nice. I had been hoping to get out of there without him witnessing me like that.

  Abby trailed close behind me. “Meredith, I’m so sorry. Can I walk you home? Or get you some water?”

  “No, just fresh air,” I answered, trying to calm the worry in her voice while still walking fast down the hallway.

  As I passed Blake, I held my head high, trying my hardest not to let on how embarrassed I actually was. And even though I didn’t look at him directly, I could feel his eyes on me, burning into me like only his stare could. Somehow I made it to the front door, and I flung it open, gasping for the fresh, clean air. I stumbled to the steps and sat, resting my head against the large white pillar on my right. Abby sat beside me and continued to ask how I was doing and if I needed anything. And I continued to tell her that I would be all right after a few minutes, hoping she’d believe me so I wouldn’t feel any more embarrassed than I already did. The fresh air did wonders, and after a few minutes had passed, I began to feel better. I glanced to my left and saw Abby’s same wide-eyed stare.

  “I’m really sorry for the mess I made in the living room. And sorry that I was not much help today. I guess I’m more sensitive to paint fumes than I realized,” I said.

  “No, you were a great help. I loved the steel blue color in the living room, and now we know it goes well with the hardwoods.” She chuckled, trying to make me feel better. “I’m just sorry you got sick. I should’ve taken better care of you.”

  I wondered what she meant by taking care of me, but I figured she meant because I was a guest in her house or something.

  “Please, let me at least walk you home. I want to make sure you get home okay,” she begged me.

  “I’ll walk her home.” Blake’s deep voice spoke up from behind me. “I think you’ve done enough, Abby.” The bitter tone was not even directed toward me, but I felt the sting of it. I looked toward Abby and saw her frowning, looking out into the front yard.

  Turning my head, I peered over my shoulder and saw Blake standing in the doorway. Even though I had known it was Blake before seeing him, my heart did not want to believe that he could say something so callous and hateful to his sister. Anger coiled inside me, and I felt an overpowering need to stick up for Abby.

  “She didn’t do anything! It was just the paint fumes.” My voice was severe. Maybe it was too much, but I was appalled that he would talk to his own sister like that. I stood up, feeling a sudden wave of irritation wash over me.

  I said goodbye to Abby, apologizing again for the mess I had made. She smiled a halfhearted smile, and I wished that I could do more to make her feel better. Eager to get out of there and away from Blake, I began the walk back down the stone steps and along the curved drive. It was not long before I sensed someone following me.

  When I turned around, I saw Blake just a few steps behind, staring at me intensely. I rolled my eyes and began to walk more quickly, hoping he would get the hint and just leave me alone. To think that I actually came over here wanting to see him! I thought. What was I thinking? I mean, what a jerk. About a minute had passed, and I couldn’t resist the urge to see if he was still back there. But when I turned around, he was nowhere to be seen. Probably just as well.

  I exited the large wooden gates and made my way back down Estate Lane. When I turned the corner onto Shore Drive, I came to a sudden halt. There in front of me, just twenty or so feet away, Blake stood, leaning against the stone wall. He was looking straight at me like he’d known exactly when I would round the corner. How did he get there so fast? There was no way he could’ve walked past me, and there was no other way onto Shore Drive. Well, not that I knew of, anyway. He propelled himself forward off the wall and began walking toward me. I pulled my shoulders back, preparing myself for any snide remarks he was about to say. He approached, and I continued to stare directly in his eyes, not wavering one tiny bit, hoping to show him that I was not intimidated by his rudeness.

  But as he got closer, I could tell the look on his face was not meant to be cruel or hateful. His face was full of regret. I relaxed my shoulders and felt the stone-cold face I was wearing disappearing as well.

  “I wish you hadn’t run off like you did,” he said, his eyes searing into mine. “You hardly gave me time to apologize.”

  It was a deer-stuck-in-the-headlights moment: I couldn’t avert his gaze even if I had wanted to. The way he looked at me should be illegal. I swear he possesses some power to seduce with his eyes. It was just not normal for me to be able to forgive anyone so easily.

  Then I reminded myself I was not ready to forgive him. It’s not like he had personally offended me or anything, but he had been a total jerk to his sister. And I was not up for giving jerks the time of day. As soon as I was able to break his gaze, I continued walking, picking up my pace as I passed him. It seemed childish to just ignore his apology, but it felt like the right thing to do at the time.

  “Meredith, please let me explain.” I felt my heart pick up speed when he called my name.

  “I don’t think it’s me you should be apologizing to,” I suggested, my voice coming out steady and strong.

  He was trailing a few steps behind me, but I could tell he was closing the distance between us. A few seconds passed, and he was walking right beside me.

  My heart began to flutter when he stopped in front of me, blocking my way. Why was he trying so hard? Why did he care so much what I thought? The guy clearly had a power complex, and he was way too arrogant for my taste.

  “You’re right.” He smiled a half-smile, revealing the dimple on his left cheek. My heart skipped a beat. “I apologized to Abby right after you left. I just didn’t like that she let something happen to you.” He stopped talking for a moment, and I had a few seconds to analyze what he had just said.

  “How did you apologize to Abby and get all the way over here?” I asked. There was no way he could have gone back to apologize and then somehow gotten in front of me unless there were secret tunnels or so
mething. He didn’t answer.

  Then the second thing he said hit me like a ton of bricks. He didn’t like that she let something happen to me? Who did he think he was? My personal bodyguard or something? I wanted to roll my eyes, but I refrained. Instead, I looked at the ground. “Like I said before, it was just the paint fumes. Nothing else.” The lie had come out of my mouth a few times now, and even I was almost starting to believe it, but deep down, I knew it was something more.

  “I would really like to walk you home. Just to make sure you get home safely. It was at my house that you risked yourself after all, even if it was just paint fumes.”

  Knowing it was a mistake to do it, I glanced up. Blake was smiling. When my eyes met his, my heart melted. It was no use. I was weak, and I couldn’t resist him any longer. “Well, we are already walking, so I guess it wouldn’t hurt if we just kept going,” I said.

  We walked in silence. I wanted to think of something to say, but my mind drew a blank. I knew a distraction was needed and quick. The cemetery was coming up on our right, and I feared the pain in the pit of my stomach. But it was too late. I tried to be inconspicuous as I wrapped my arms around my waist, gripping my stomach, trying to ease the pain. Just a few more seconds, I told myself, then we will be past the gates and the pain should begin to subside.

  In my peripheral vision, I saw his head tilting in my direction, his eyes glancing down toward my waist. “Are you cold?” he asked.

  The question threw me off, and I turned to look at him. He was beginning to unbutton the long-sleeved blue shirt he had on, revealing a white undershirt. I couldn’t help but notice how tightly the white undershirt clung to his sculpted chest. It was impossible not to stare as he unfastened the buttons one by one. I swallowed hard and knew that I had to stop him. It’s not that I didn’t want to see more, but his willingness to take his shirt off just then and there made me uncomfortable. Or at least, I think that is the correct description of how I was feeling.

  “No—no, not cold at all,” I said too loudly. Facing forward again, I let my hair fall around my face, hoping it hid the color I could feel building in my cheeks.

  “Oh, wasn’t there something you had to do on your way home. An errand?” he questioned. I felt like kicking myself for having such a big mouth.

  “It’s nothing too important. It can wait.”

  The pain in the pit of my stomach disappeared as we walked a few steps past the cemetery gates. The rest of the walk was peaceful and actually felt comfortable. As we turned onto Maple Avenue, I started to get anxious about how we would part ways. We had to talk in order to say goodbye. Should I just thank him for walking me home and walk off? Whatever I was planning to say, I had better think quick, as we were only a few houses down from mine.

  Just as I was about to stop in front of my house, Blake came to a standstill. I looked up at him, wondering how he had known which house was mine.

  “It was a pleasure,” he said.

  “Yeah, thanks. You know, for making sure I made it home okay.” I shrugged.

  “Goodbye, then.”

  A chill ran through me as I stared into his eyes. I swear he got more irresistible each and every time I looked at him.

  “Bye,” I said, not knowing when I would get to spend time with him again. As much as I hated to admit it, that thought terrified me. What if I didn’t?

  I turned and began to walk toward the house. It was hard to describe but I felt like there was something different about him that I just couldn’t get over—actually there was something different about his entire family. Besides the strange feeling I got when I was around them, they seemed to act strangely in my presence too … like they were uncertain about me somehow.

  Fighting myself the entire way to the door, I tried to resist turning around to see if he was still standing there. As I began to open the door, I glanced back around to search for him, but he was gone. There was no way to hide the disappointment on my face.

  “Was that the new guy walking you home?” Jack asked as I walked through the door, throwing my train of thought way off.

  “New guy?” Aunt Rose echoed as she came around the corner.

  Great, this is the last thing I want right now, I thought. “Yes, it was the new kid, and no, there’s nothing to it. He just walked me home because I got a bad headache and almost fainted at his house. Don’t worry, I’m fine.” I finished it all in one breath, not wanting to give them any space to butt in before I was done.

  “What happened?” they both asked in perfect unison, and I couldn’t help but laugh.

  “The paint fumes got to me. But really, I’m fine,” I said again, hoping they would believe me that time.

  Aunt Rose hurried over to me, giving me a typical nurse pat down, and then placed her hand on my forehead, checking for a temperature. “Are you sure you’re okay? You should have called me, Meredith. I would have come and picked you up.”

  Yeah, because that’s what I really wanted to happen, I thought to myself. “I’m feeling much better now. The whole thing was really embarrassing, and I would prefer to not dwell on it.”

  “Well, I still wish you would have called,” she said, looking at me directly. She appeared satisfied that I would live to see another day.

  “How about I make you a deal? The next time I’m over there and I begin to feel faint, I promise to call you,” I joked.

  They both tried to contain their laughter, but they couldn’t, and I knew the discussion was over.

  But the next question that came out of Aunt Rose’s mouth made me wish for the previous conversation. “Is he cute?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

  I knew the best way to get the discussion over with was to just answer, because if I didn’t, the questions would just keep on coming. “He is all right, I guess. Nothing special,” I lied, not sure who I was trying to convince more, them or me. “He’s not the type that would be interested in someone like me, anyway … not the way you’re thinking, at least,” I admitted, shocked at the disappointment in my voice.

  “Don’t sell yourself short, Meredith. You are a very attractive, fun … eccentric kind girl.” I could tell that Aunt Rose had searched for a nicer word than strange or weird. “Boys love girls that are a little different than the norm. It’s no fun to date someone who acts like every other girl out there.” She gave me a wink as she walked back toward the kitchen. “Dinner should be ready. Hope you all are hungry.”

  “Starving,” Jack and I answered in unison, and we both laughed as we made our way into the kitchen.

  Chapter Eleven

  It was Sunday, and work at the library was extra slow. So slow that Ms. Donaldson took time off work to run some errands. I tried not to let the previous day’s events at the Harpers’ get me down. This was the day that Roger had promised he would call. I could feel the anticipation for hearing from him building inside me. There was so much to tell him! Just as the feeling of excitement began to hit my face, threatening a smile, I heard the front door of the library squeak closed. Internally I sighed, not wanting to have to deal with another patron that afternoon.

  But my sulking turned to joy when I realized it was Blake who had walked in. Our eyes met, and he gave me a quick smile. It was so quick that I didn’t even have time to return it before he looked away. And again, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him. He walked straight to the reference section just like he had done before, pulling two books off the shelf and taking a seat at the table near the window.

  He flipped open one of the books and glanced up, catching my stare. I looked down, feeling my face heat up to about a thousand degrees and my heart pounding hard against my chest. How embarrassing, I thought to myself.

  I was so busy feeling ridiculous that I didn’t even realize when he got up and made his way across the room. “Am I doing something wrong?” he questioned, coming to stand on the other side of the counter, just a few inches away from me.

  My breath stopped cold, and I looked up toward the dee
p, soft voice. The left corner of his mouth lifted, resulting in that half-smile that I was beginning to think should be illegal. Meeting his blue eyes, I gradually felt my breathing getting quicker, and I knew that I was approaching hyperventilation. In hopes of avoiding another fainting fit, I looked down and began to shuffle the papers in front of me.

  “What would you be doing wrong?” I asked, trying to keep my breathing even.

  “The way you are staring, you have me convinced that I’m breaking some library rule or something.”

  I could hear the smile in his voice. Was he messing with me? The entire time he was standing in front of me, I fought the urge to look him in the eyes. I felt that was the only way to get my breathing back under control. “No, nothing wrong,” I said. “I mean you aren’t doing it—anything wrong, I mean.” Oh. My. God. This was turning into another horrible disaster.

  It felt as if there was a giant elephant sitting on my chest, pushing it down and not allowing a breath in or out. Breathe! Breathe! I shouted inside my head. Breathe, before you pass out and make an even bigger fool of yourself! At last, I managed a large breath, and I gasped for air, hoping it would help me catch up on the lack of oxygen.

  “You okay?” he asked, concern covering his face.

  “I’m fine,” I responded, sounding annoyed. I was not annoyed at Blake, but annoyed at myself for acting like such an idiot. “Is there something I can help you with?”

  “I would like to check this out,” he replied, sliding a book to my side of the counter.

  History of the 1900s. I glanced at the title and wondered why he would be reading a book like that. It was summer, after all.

  “Do you have a library card?” I asked.

  “No, afraid not.”

  “Well, please fill this out, and I will get one made up for you,” I said smoothly, handing him the application and a pen and gaining more and more confidence that my normal calm, cool, and relaxed personality was showing itself again.

  It was difficult not to stare at him as he was filling the application out on the counter, so I tried to keep myself busy. I did some filing and left the desk to gather books from the front drop box, stealing a glance at him whenever I could.