by W. J. May
Not a psycho or kidnapper, just a kid like me. I relaxed and stood, brushing my shorts. Why are you in the cemetery? I didn’t bother to ask. He probably wondered the same about me. With my luck, he’d just visited his girlfriend’s tombstone. Man, I’m awful.
I quickly shut my mouth, which hung open. Coughing, I spoke a little too loudly. “I-I lost my iPod.”
Another chuckle erupted from his lips, sounding like it belonged in the movies. Hollywood-boy walked around me and behind the upright stone angel. He bent down behind it and pulled a long, white string. My eyes widened and for a split second I thought about running. What did he plan on doing? Strangling me?
Then it dawned on me, the white string belonged to my ear buds. A sure sign when the iPod followed along, like a fish on a line. The wind caught behind me and blew escaped ponytail hair into my face. Irritated, I brushed it away from my eyes.
He paused before turning back around. “It smells…” he inhaled “…like liquorice.”
I sniffed. “It smells like dead people. Well, like damp grass.” The lawn looked to have been cut a couple of days ago. Clumps of old grass lay under the cement bench, emitting a rotten smell like old cheese.
He straightened and flashed a smile, his teeth bright against the dark of night. “You’re not from around here, are you?” He held out my iPod and dropped it onto my outstretched hand.
“Got here yesterday.” I stuffed the iPod in my pocket. “Thanks. I’m Rouge.”
An eyebrow disappeared behind his hair. “Michael.” He grinned and held out his hand which I shook lightly.
Pleasantly cool. They’d feel good on my cheeks which are freakin’ burning right now. That thought made them flame even more.
“The iPod didn’t manage to pull your ears off?”
“You caught that?” Now I wanted to crawl into one of the graves.
“I rounded the bend…” he pointed in the opposite direction from where I’d come, “…when I noticed you trying to decapitate this poor angel here.” He patted the figure.
I sensed a smile in his voice.
He cleared his throat and took a step back.
“What’re you doing in the cemetery?” I blurted, unable to hide my curiosity.
“Taking a break.” He grinned like he’d made a joke. “Are you going to continue your run?” He shifted like he was surprised he had asked the question. He cleared his throat. “Otherwise I can walk with you to the main road.”
“I think it’s safer if I walk.” We started towards the main road. “Do you live around here?” I grimaced at the needy sound in my voice.
“Not too far.”
“My place is that way.” I pointed to the left.
“I’m that way.” He nodded in the other direction.
We continued in silence while I wracked my brain trying to come up with something witty to say.
“Well, maybe I’ll see you around.” I stared at my runners. Brilliant, Rouge. Brilliant.
“Welcome to Port Coquitlam, Rouge.” He started off without a glance back.
I stood admiring his…could jeans really fit that perfect on a rear end? I forced my eyes away. “He’s a guy, not a god.” My gaze flicked back when a low, bouncy noise sounded. Did he just laugh?
His pace never slowed nor did he turn around.
I started slowly jogging home. My heart stuttered and flopped against my chest. I didn’t know if it came from the near fright or the closeness of the very hot boy.
Michael was on my mind that night and again when I woke the next morning. Where did he live? Would he be at school? He seemed so cool and together. Usually I avoided guys in general, and if one did catch my eye, dark-hair, brown eyes and brooding were the prerequisite.
The next evening, I jogged to the cemetery, grinning when I passed the angel, and gave her a wink. Then I headed north, the way Michael had gone when he left last night. What were the chances I’d actually find his street, let alone his house? I stopped mid-street and turned to walk home—stalker wasn’t one of my personality traits.
Friday morning I couldn’t stand it anymore. I had to get out of Jim and Sally’s house to escape and clear my thoughts. They’d been bickering non stop about fixing the house, Sally’s job, Jim’s lack of a job and anything else which seemed to pop into their heads.
Through the grey clouds, the air hung heavy with a cool breeze hinting at an end-of-summer storm. The sun kept trying to poke its way through the dark.
As I headed out the front door, I grabbed a baseball cap in case it rained and walked towards the high school. Figuring out where a few of my classes were would save wandering the halls next week.
The limestone near the front entrance of the high school had 1922 imprinted on it... The buildings were created with copper red brick throughout and had large windows on both floors. The school might be small, but its structure was unique. An architectural plaque, showing the school’s layout, hung plastered into the brick. In the center lay a courtyard, like that of an old castle.
The very posh building and grounds reminded me of the kind of boarding schools in movies or books. It made me nervous. I hadn’t fit into the big high school back in Niagara Falls. What were the chances I’d fit in here, a small school? I kicked a pebble on the sidewalk. It was only one year, so it didn’t really matter what happened. I just needed to keep up my grades to score some sort of scholarship. Thank goodness school came easy – science, math, even English – just don’t put me in choir or art, and I’d be fine.
Running up the wide steps, I made my way inside the building. The school secretary was busy printing off papers and stuffing them into envelopes. She glanced up as the office door creaked. She wore a frilly dress that matched her horn-rimmed glasses. She might have been here when the school first opened. She smiled and walked towards the front counter.
“You must be Rouge Riding. Welcome to Port Q High. I’m Ms. Graid.”
“It’s Rouge, like row with a ‘g’ sound at the end. Spelled R-O-U-G-E; like the way the French spells red.” One day, I’d shake the crap out of the person who named me. I smiled. “My last name’s actually Rid-ding. Just spelled like your driving in a car.” Someone had a good laugh writing my birth certificate. “I thought I should come by before school started to make sure all my transcripts came through.”
“Just printed off your schedule.” She chirped like a bird. Those glasses gave her owl eyes and didn’t flatter her round face. “You don’t have any free time this semester, but from the looks of your grades, you won’t have a problem.”
“Thanks.” I took the papers she held out and glanced over the schedule.
Ms. Graid handed me a map of the school, with my classes numbered and highlighted. This woman had too much time on her hands. She’d organized and color coordinated my class schedule with additional highlighting and smiley faces. I made a mental note to memorize the map before I got caught holding it when school started.
“Thanks again.” I smiled. I was sure she meant well.
“Be sure and check in any time. I’m always here to help.” She hummed some ancient, classical-sounding tune as she returned to stuffing envelopes.
I walked out of the office and decided to follow her little map around the school while it was empty. It didn’t take long to find my way around; the setup of the small building was very basic. I loved the outdoor courtyard in the center. Every surrounding classroom had a view of it.
Stuffing the map in my backpack, I headed down a flight of stairs to make my way to the front entrance. As I passed the front office, a pretty, petite girl walked out. I didn’t mean to but I couldn’t help staring. She reminded me of someone. I couldn’t place who. She had gorgeous blonde hair, long and in a million braids. Her eye color made me think of Niagara Falls. They were bright on her bronzed face. This girl…definitely one of the popular ones.
“You new?” Her gaze roamed me up and down.
I nodded. Her voice had a tone of confidence mine would never have.
>
She linked her arm through mine and steered me towards the exit. “I drove here. ’Bout time someone new showed up.” Her leg kicked out and she tapped the handicap button by the front doors, letting the door open automatically. “I’m Grace and we need something fun for Saturday.”
“Fun? Saturday?” I tried scratching my head. However, being tugged at an almost sprinting speed, I only managed to tug my fingers through my curly hair. I kind of liked her free spirit and crazy pushiness. Who wouldn’t be curious if this girl was nuts or actually fun?
“I forgot. You don’t know anything yet.” A cascade of laughter erupted from her. “Sorry. The senior class has a party the weekend before school starts. You’ll come, right?”
It wasn’t like my plans were laid out for the weekend. I might get to see Michael if he attended the high school. Except, in the few moments I spent with him, he seemed older somehow. Grace was like one giant fireball of energy. Someone who chattered, so I wouldn’t have to. “Sure. Sounds nice.”
Her vice-grip on my arm released when we came to the world’s tiniest car.
“It’s a smart car. Awesome, isn’t it?” Grace patted the bonnet.
I pointed my finger at a pair of pink fuzzy dice hanging off the mirror. “I think they’re bigger than your car.”
Grinning, Grace unlocked the doors. “My brother got those for me.” She rolled her eyes but patted the dice affectionately. “Oh shoot, I didn’t even ask.” She smacked her head. “Do you need to stop by your place before we head to the mall?”
“Probably a good idea.” A change of clothes seemed required. I felt underdressed. I didn’t have loads of money, but it wouldn’t hurt to check out the mall.
Grace zoomed out of the school lot and headed in the direction I pointed. She swung the little car on my street and then slammed on the brakes right in front of the house. Freaky, as I’d only pointed and never said the house number.
She jumped out of the car faster than I could get my seat belt off. I stepped out and pulled at my shirt, not in a rush to go inside. Grace just seemed a lot classier than my dilapidated house.
“I, uh, live here with my foster folks…”
“No way! My brother and I are adopted. I totally know the feeling.” She smiled. The sympathy in her eyes too much for me.
“Maybe similar, but trust me, it’s completely different.” I pulled out my house key. “I get the feeling your folks are pretty well off. Jim and Sally are, well…they just are…They work hard, but…” Not knowing what else to say, I turned and headed towards the front porch. The neighborhood and house spoke better than I could.
Grace followed on my heels, but I didn’t miss the funny look on her face. When I opened the front door, she pinched her nose. Her face screwed up tight.
“Sorry. It’s bleach. We’ve been cleaning and painting.”
She coughed, politely covering her mouth and dropping all expression from her face. “It’s fine. It just caught me by surprise.” She glanced around. “The place is, uh, cute.”
Jim lay on the couch watching TV in dirty jogging pants and a paint-stained shirt, one of those ugly wife-beater tank tops. He lowered the volume with the remote and waved before looking over. Then his thumb hit the wrong button and channels started flickering past when he noticed Grace. Obviously at a loss for words, Jim sat up, his mouth hanging open. In the past three years, I’d never brought anyone home, and Grace was probably the prettiest thing he’d ever come in contact with.
“My room’s upstairs,” I mumbled.
“Hu-llo there.” A weird smile crossed his face as he stared at her.
Is he actually trying to flirt with her? Gag! Any minute he’d be salivating like a dog – all I needed was a bell.
I grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards my room. Her eyes were wide and bright blue. She didn’t say anything, but as soon as we got into my room, she went straight to my open window and took a few deep breaths.
“Sorry ’bout that.” My cheeks refused to stop burning. I grabbed my black miniskirt and threw a turquoise shirt over my white tank top. Pulling my pony holder out, I shook my tangles out, ran a finger through my hair and then clipped a small barrette to hold most of my bangs away from my face. Far from stunning, but at least it looked decent.
Thank goodness Jim was absent from the living room when we left. Hopefully to shower and change.
Two steps outside, I started laughing.
Grace stared at me, one eyebrow raised. “Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting…I don’t know what I expected.”
“Not taken personally.” I grinned. “He’s never acted like that before. He’s harmless, honest.” At least she hadn’t taken off running. If she could handle that, she was definitely friend-worthy.
Both giggling, we got into her car. “How did you end up with them?”
“I didn’t have much of a choice.” I shrugged. “The system kept me stuck inside it. I got bounced around a lot back in Niagara Falls, and when I landed with Jim and Sally…I’ve been with them through most of high school and when Sally got the job transfer, she an’ Jim asked if I wanted to come with them. I said yes. I have to stay until I graduate.” I tried not to let my frustration and disappointment leak into my words. “I never got adopted. It supposedly took the system forever to try and locate either of my parents, which they never did, and by the time they stopped searching, I wasn’t the newbie baby parents wanted to adopt.” I absently stared out the window as we drove. Why did I just tell Grace my sob story? It’d never been a self-pity point for me and I turned eighteen in January, so it wouldn’t matter much longer.
“Screw shopping. Do you want to come over to my place and watch a movie instead?” She swung the little car around, doing a one eighty. “We can dig through my closet and find something for each of us.”
We passed End of an Era cemetery. I held my breath, something I’d always done as a kid whenever I drove by one. Michael crossed my mind. I quickly pushed him out. “Sounds good.” My breathing resumed as the car travelled by houses and left the cemetery behind.
The road became more hilly, the houses sparse. Grace made a sharp turn, the little wheels squealing in protest. The long driveway lay between luscious green grass and red maple trees with the biggest leaves I’d ever seen.
House wasn’t the right word to describe where she lived. Church or castle seemed more fitting. Built out of limestone with beautiful architectural detail, there were unique carvings in the bricks. Gorgeous. It took my breath away.
Grace mumbled something I didn’t hear. She parked her car between a dark blue Mustang and a black Mondeo.
A sudden wave of nervousness flushed through my veins. Some weird urge to jump out of the car and run nagged at my insides. Chewing my pinkie fingernail, I tried to squash the jitters. Why in the world did it feel like I wasn’t supposed to be here?
Chapter 3
“Are you coming?” Grace held my door open as she peered in the little car. Her forehead creased then quickly disappeared when she smiled. “Caleb’s a bit dramatic.” She laughed at some private joke as I stepped out.
I frowned. “Caleb?”
“Yeah…Yeah, my adoptive father.” She gave her head a slight shake, her hair sparkling in the porch light’s reflection against the now growing darkness outside. The sun must have given up trying to get through the clouds, and called it an early night. “There’s a royal air about him. It’s hard to explain. You’ll see when you meet him.”
“Air?”
“Bad joke.” She giggled. “I meant h-e-i-r, like he pretends to be a king.” She rolled her eyes. “He designed the house.”
I didn’t get the joke, but I’d never been great with parents or any adults. Probably why part of me wanted to stay outside. Another part begged to step inside and find the peace this place had to offer.
The front steps led to large wooden doors with multi-colored stained glass insets. Grace pushed one open and ushered me in. “My room’s upstairs. Let’s check out what I
’ve got to wear for Saturday.” She kicked off her ballet flats and started up the stairs, turning to wait for me.
The place screamed rich. I bet old money since everything looked antique. Grace said Caleb built it, but the house seemed from before this century. Maybe the guy dug reproductive stuff and had it all done to look ancient – like the stuff belonged in a palace somewhere. The cool windows probably made rainbows on the walls. They ran all the way to the second floor with an open concept view. A great room. I remembered studying it in an architecture class at my old high school.
Grace led the way up the winding staircase to the first door on the left. Why am I so comfortable around her? Like I’ve known her forever and yet we’ve barely just met.
Grace chattered at the top of the stairs, “I know what it’s like to be the new kid. If I’d had someone to show me around, it would’ve made things a lot easier.”
Her massive room had a king-size bed and four matching dressers, everything painted with bright and fresh colors. Stepping into her closet, I barely made it two feet. It was easily three times the size of my bedroom. Hundreds of clothes dangled on hangers, organized by color and type. Dresses hung on one side, skirts, pants, tops and blouses on the other. Massive shelves, with more shoes than I dared count, climbed to the ceiling. “Maybe you need to seek professional help.” I laughed, setting my bag on one of the shelves. “Too bad you’re so tiny, or I’d borrow a third of your clothes. You wouldn’t even notice them missing!”
Grace bounced up and down, like an elegant ballet dancer. “Tiny? That’s your polite way of saying I’m short? Ha!” She grinned. “You’re just tall. Everything’ll fit but my pants.” She twirled around the closet. “Sleep over on Saturday. We can get to know each other. It’ll be fun.”
Her face looked so hopeful. Even with the weird nagging feeling still pulling at my gut, I couldn’t say no. “Twist my ar—” I stopped mid-sentence when her door flew open.
“Gracey. You smell something? I smelled it all the way down--”
