The air about them was still. Aside from a few fluttering wings of periodic birds, the forest was just as still. The only thing coming to her ears was the champing and scraping sounds of their footfalls as they walked. And, of course, there was the constant crunch-scraping of the carts as they slid through the snow.
She glanced sideways over the heads of the girls, to look at Anthony in the sunlight. She watched the shadows cross his face as he walked under the encumbered trees. Their bulky limbs blotted out the sky whenever they walked near one. His eyes were bouncing about, what Joaquin had said at the forefront of his mind.
Unable to control it, she felt a warm flush spread throughout her chest as if the entire upper half of her body had warmed by an invisible fire. Next, came the inevitable, but exciting clenching of her gut. It came every time she looked at him now. She had never experienced anything like it before meeting this teenage boy in this impossible place.
He was all about vigilance, determined to root out anything that could harm his sisters. He was not aware of her scrutiny.
He’d come to save me. His eyes were the first I saw… His body cradled mine, so alight with fear in his eyes and love in his heart. I could see it! I could tell…
He loves me.
Sure, she had liked boys ever since she had entered puberty and the little things about her body began to change into much bigger ones. It was in those first early years when boys stopped being only her playmates and, overnight, had a new, more exciting appeal to her. It had been years since her fist kiss, years since she had gone on her first date. It had even been a while since her first hot and heavy make-out session.
So why would this be any different? Why would her reaction to him be anything more than she had experienced in the past?
Besides, she did not know the boy. The fact she had met him four days before and had slept next to him the last three nights in a row, meant little. She had not experienced enough of him to have a valid opinion. And yet, from the moment she had laid eyes on him, she had liked him. She liked his mannerisms and the way he carried himself. She could admit that now. She liked how he could act so shy at times and then bold at others. Sometimes the switches were minutes apart.
Like when he held me in his arms and hugged me tight… so sure of the feelings inside.
He was tall, which she preferred, although being short was not quite a deal breaker either. He was also nice looking, with his pale complexion and dark eyes, and his long wavy, brown hair reaching down to the middle of back. He was not a jock - all muscled and rude. Nor was he a nerd with bowl-cut hair and a pocket protector. He was not Fringe or Emo, or even Cholo. He was somewhere in the precise middle of all that, maybe a little rocker-ish. Yet, he did not go out of his way to let you know he was a Rocker. He was not like so many people she knew nowadays. They were always so desperate for identification or affiliation with this group or that.
Why did there have to be so much self-advertising these days?
He wore his punk metal shirt as he would any shirt, not like some placard. He was not showing off. He was just being himself. Maybe that’s what she liked the most. Maybe she liked the fact no matter where he was or who he was with, he was himself.
Maybe that was why she could be herself around him. He relaxed her, allowed her to act natural. She did not have to put up a façade, shielding him from the real her. She was not afraid that he might lose control and lust after her, stalk her or worse. With him, she did not have to worry about that. She could be open. She could let him see more of her, the real her.
Even through the embarrassment she knew he felt when he came near her; he did not come onto her too strong. He had to know by now of his effect on her. He had to know just the thought of him made her squirm in forbidden places. She had been so obvious at times.
Instead, he allowed himself to be shy, accepting his emotions, unburdened by their expression. He did not let their physical attraction cloud his mind.
That was so appealing to her, and so alluring as well.
Maybe there was such a thing as “nothing to hide”. Maybe some people did have that quality about them. From her experience, it was rare, unique onto itself. She had never met a person like Anthony before. He was accepting and calm with just about everything. He was in simple terms, uncommon.
She was grateful it was now. When the shit was about to hit the fan big-time, she was glad she had finally met someone like him. It was now she would need someone like him most.
Maybe she should just make the most of it, thank her lucky stars and embrace it. After all, he had already told her, that he liked her, that he wanted to be with her
And even then, he had done so in his own manner, not bold or too mannish - or in any way forward. He had peeled the topic like an onion until he had guided them both to the core of the issue. With brave aplomb, he posed the question to her and let her explain herself to him. It had been sweet and done with mastery. Maybe he was worthy of her attention, her caring, her touch… Maybe she should stop worrying about it.
But where would it go? she thought to herself. How far would I be willing - or he be willing - to let this thing progress when we were facing such a vicious enemy? Could they fall in love in place like this, with everything on the line, with so much at stake, with so much to lose if they failed? Would it even be the smart thing to do? Would they have time enough to enrich their relationship enough and reach true love? Would they live that long to see it? Would they ever see the dawn of their innermost feelings?
It bothered her and yet it amazed her at the same time. This teenage boy, walking just a few feet from her, had completely confounded her. He had entangled himself in her heart until there was no escape from him. He had done so without her even being aware he was doing it in the first place. It was not until the conflict between wanting it so much and dreading the fact she may never see things between her and him take root that she began to understand. What he had done was plant a seed and it had blossomed.
How had he been able to sweep her off her feet this quick?
Why now? she asked herself. Why meet him now and here? I can’t be foolish enough to fall in love now! Her expression darkened at the thought. Never more, in her interaction with boys, had she been as uninterested in having a boyfriend as she had in those last days on earth. She smiled with a wry curl of her lip. There had yet to be a time when she had been as busy with school or her cheer squad as she had before the Rending. Her banishment to the Melded World seemed to drive home the point. James Henley had been a big part of that.
She had always been willing to look out of the corner of her eye in hopes some cute guy might come along and make her swoon. It was quite usual for her to have up her “boy-dar”, as she liked to term it.
But not after things with James had gone as sour, became as twisted as they had. There was truth to the idea that she had turned it off. She had been content to be alone for a while now. Though she did not like being alone, not having someone to call her own, someone to talk with on the phone or go to the movies with on a whim. She enjoyed those types of things a great deal.
What freaked her out was she had known a boy for quite a long time, and he - over time - seemed to lose himself in a world of his own making. He had hounded her every move. He had invaded her privacy by hacking her cell phone, trying to make himself some sort of centerpiece in her life. The stalking had been bad. The popping around corners to say hi and pretending it was all happenstance had been bad. The eavesdropping, the late night phone calls and the icky questions had been worse. Thus, having a boy in her life, in an intimate fashion, had been something of little importance of late.
What was so ironic in her eyes, if not luck personified, was she’d had a Nixy and an Isighünd watching over her. Two formidable enemies, who had been spying on her at the same time James had made the conscious decision to hurt her. They were her protectors. Because of that, they had to save her from the boy who would have exacted a tremendous amount of hurt upon her. Th
ey had spared her those things she had tried hard not to think about. The nasty things James Henley would have done to her if he had put his hands on her, had her alone, in private, away from all prying eyes. It made her sick to her stomach.
It made her nauseous just thinking about it.
Anthony had told her not to dwell on it and by no means to feel a single ounce of guilt. He reasoned it was James’ fate to meet an undue end, and it had little to do with her. He had said it was better than being a victim of rape, bearing torture by a psycho-teenager, even if it had meant exile to the Melded World. Here, at least she could fight back.
After James’ murder, she had agonized over the way she looked. She blamed her one-of-a-kind hair color (the color everyone swore she dyed to make her appear more exotic, though she did not). She had felt cursed to have deep blue, gem-like eyes, and translucent skin. She had begun to wonder over the price she would have to pay, because she was pretty. It was an aspect of her that had affected many people as far back as she could remember. Maybe "cursed" was the right word after all. Having survived that night, she could not shake the idea if she had looked a bit plainer, things might have gone down a different path. Maybe James would not have fixated on her to the degree that he had. Maybe he would not have come to believe she was all his and his alone. Maybe he would have been happier and lived. Maybe he would have realized she just like any other girl. Maybe he would have taken her initial rejections to heart and let the whole thing go. Maybe he would not have driven himself off the cliff of sanity and fallen into the pit that led to his own demise.
Nonetheless, she had only a short time to consider this before everything had changed for her. Now, she knew in the middle of her heart, it did not matter anymore. He had been unable to control himself and things became ugly between them and now he was dead and she was a world - no! - an entire universe away. It seemed like such a waste. To have met someone and watch things as between them progress forever downward was sad. She and James had gone from shy disinclination to feelings of weariness. Next came the worry and then full-blown “disturbia” only to find fear was all that remained. It would have been better if she had never spent the time to talk to him when he had first approached her. She should have never been polite.
Now, there was nothing, but death. The absence of life…
What a waste…
“Hey, Sophie, you alright?” asked Anthony, acute concern etched about his visage.
His spoken words startled her. She gasped out loud.
All her companions stopped in that instant, gazing around for threats that were not there.
Dammit, why am I acting like an idiot when I should be paying attention!
“Is everything alright, child?” asked Kodiak who’d been was walking behind her and was the closest to her when she came up short. The shopping cart she was dragging with little effort through the snow bumped into her ample backside. She appeared not to notice.
“Oh! Oh my god! I’m so sorry! Anthony just startled the hell out of me, you guys. Everything is ok,” she babbled, a flood of words pouring from her so fast they were right on top of one another.
Come on, Sophie get with the program!
With that, they resumed their trek through the snow-covered landscape.
Although, at her side, she could sense Anthony’s frown. She knew he could tell she had not explained everything.
They walked on for a few more minutes. Following Garfield’s trail, they meandered through the trees. They avoiding the large humps of snow that most definitely hid bushes or large rock.
Anthony asked her, hushed, “What was wrong with you back there?” It was obvious. He was not going to let the matter rest.
Sophie looked away with a pained expression. She did not want Anthony to see one bit of the conflicting emotions, so vivid on her face. What made it worse was she had promised him she would put all her memories of James and his vile intentions aside.
“Sophie…?” pleaded Anthony.
Sophie gazed back at him, knowing his sisters were staring at her as well. Being little women, they had not missed a single shred of what was going on between her and their brother. They were old enough to know a serious conversation ripe with passion when they heard one.
“I was just thinking, that’s all,” she deflected, “about how things used to be, you know?”
With surety, she could see the tension drain from the boy and immediately felt like a jerk for not having the courage to tell him the truth.
Then she caught the weight of Elena’s eyes. She knew at once, she had not fooled the intuitive nine-year-old in the least. She wilted before the accusation behind those tiny, little orbs. Don’t lie to my brother! she could almost hear her say with her mind. She chided herself, knowing this was not the time for lies, not here, not in this place, and definitely not between her and Anthony.
“To tell the truth,” she began again.
Anthony’s head perked up at her sudden continuance.
“I was thinking about us and about how things were back on Earth, before everything happened. I was comparing it against this one, this… new life in this melded place.”
“How do you mean? Are you talking about before when we were in no danger at all and now it seems like everything we come across wants to capture us or kill us? Was that what you were thinking about? Because to tell you the truth, if that was it, then so was I.” He admitted.
Again Sophie felt her heart melt at his candid enunciation of the fear inside of him. She knew there was no guile in him, no misdirection or misinformation. This young man was capable of articulating what he felt - nothing more, nothing less. He would be a hard act to follow.
“That and… well, Anthony, I was thinking about us too. You and me.”
At her side, both of his sisters giggled, covering their mouths. Their shoulders hunched as they shared a knowing glance.
Anthony stumbled over some unseen irregularity in the snow. He had not been watching where he was stepping and lurched forward, flailing his arms for a few steps. He regained his balance and peered back at Sophie with a nervous set to his face.
“Holy crap!” he said too loud, covering his unease. “I better watch my step out here. I could break a leg or something.” Then he seemed to remember what she had said and gulped down whatever else he was going to say. He turned toward her for a moment before his eyes fell back to the ground. “And what did you conclude?” he managed after a few steps, his voice strangled.
“Conclude?” asked Sophie with a smirk. “My dear, I did not ‘conclude’ anything.” Then she laughed for no reason, but could not help herself. “How could I conclude anything when I cannot answer the questions?”
“What questions?” wondered Anthony, confused now.
Sophie looked over at him, a bit dubious. “Are you telling me you don’t have any questions about how we’re going to handle this whole situation? How are we still going to find time to be… or become… well, you know.” She gazed through hooded eyes, trying to hide her discomfiture from his sisters.
His pale complexion turned beet red. She let herself feel a little satisfied that he responded exactly the way she had. He too could show some embarrassment, a modicum of self-consciousness.
“Well…?” he began.
She could see him mulling one thing after another. “Well what? It’s a simple question,” she nudged with purpose.
“Maybe it’s not a simple question at all,” he said, almost too low for her to hear.
“Exactly! That’s why this whole thing has been taxing,” she explained. “Now you can understand why I drifting in thought.”
His brow creased, considering. “I don’t know, Sophie. I don’t. I can only trust in what I feel and in what you feel and pray that’s enough. I hope there will be enough time. Christ, I hope we make it through this alive. Even that may be asking too much.” He smiled off-center. “Only time will tell.” He shrugged. “Until then, I will trust in you and in my sisters - and in all t
he others - because what we feel is all that matters.” Anthony was looking back at her unsure if his brutal accounting had been too much for her.
She could have kissed him right there and then, but the giggles from his sisters forestalled her. She let only a tiny heartfelt grin touch her lips.
He surprised her by continuing. “I sort of hoped you could bring yourself to do the same. You know? Maybe you could think of things the same way, because you liked me enough to find it possible to do so. At least, I was hoping, anyway.”
Sophie let the silence grow between them for a while, trying to think of the right thing to say. He had caught her off guard by being so basic and truthful with her, even with his sister looking on. She had not expected him to be this brave.
When she glanced back the boy, her hesitation seemed to have make things worse for him.
“You do like me enough, don’t you, Sophie?” he entreated, plaintive. There was real fright cloaking each word he spoke.
The words she was about to speak were stuck in her throat. When had he turned the tables on me? she thought, miserable. She looked back at him only see his sisters were staring back at her with just as much intensity as their brother.
Yet, why continue to fool herself? What was so hard about admitting what she knew was real in her heart? Here she was on the Melded World, involved in a fantastical plot of diabolical intent, and what was she doing? She was wasting time ignoring what she did not have time to ignore in the first place. For all she knew, she could dead a week, or a day from now. Who was keeping count here on the Melded World? Who was going to make fun of her or tell her she was stupid, because she had just met him? Why should she not go for it? What was stopping her? There were no parents here. There were no legal guardians or their like abound in this plane of existence. Nothing was here. No one would come.
Winter's Fury - Volume Two of The Saga of the Twelves Page 9
