by K. A. Poe
“I don't think I’ll be throwing any parties any time soon, Jason.”
“C'mon...I'll do all of the work!” he pleaded. “I'll make the invitations, get the food...you just have to provide the place!”
I laughed. “I'll think about it.”
My appetite finally came back and I was able to down a pudding cup before the bell rang again.
“I'll see you two in gym,” I waved as I walked off to music class.
My friends knew I was in music class, but as far as they were aware I hated it. Music was my passion, but I had my doubts that anything would ever come from it in terms of a career. Simply listening to a piece of classical music, or inventing my own, was enough to make me happy. Unfortunately, my mother could never afford to buy me a piano of my own, so most of my practice was done at school. There was also a period of my life where I took piano lessons, but after my father left I lost interest in it as well as many other hobbies. After a few years, I came to realize that Desmond wasn't returning and I had to carry on with my life and rediscovered my joy of playing. I don't know why I felt so compelled to keep my love of classical music a secret. Maybe I was worried my friends would tease me for it, as they had done with other kids. I walked briskly into the class, excited to practice on the piano again. I had been improving greatly and I was looking forward to getting my fingers on the keys.
To my despair, we had a substitute teacher who didn't appear to have a clue what he was doing.
“Mr. Collins won't be in today,” the teacher announced when the class was seated. He had a bulging round belly and pants held up by suspenders. His head was round, with a very evident receding hairline. “My name is Mr. Knotts, and I will be filling in as best as I can, but I must apologize ahead of time – I am usually the astronomy teacher and have never touched an instrument in my life.”
“Then what do you expect us to do today?” The words came out of my mouth before I had the chance to stop myself. This wasn't uncommon for me, and I had been scolded on the habit far too many times – enough that I should have learned by now to keep my mouth shut.
“I-well...” the sub stuttered, ignoring my rudeness, and his puffy cheeks reddened. “I suppose you can just, play whatever music you want until the bell rings,” he replied with a shrug of his thick shoulders.
The class laughed, myself included. I shrugged and walked over to one of the pianos – there were two of them in the classroom, as well as a keyboard. The one I selected had obvious wear to it, no doubt donated to the school by an employee or some sort of foundation. This was usually the one I chose to play on, something about it lured me to it the very day I began this class. I placed my hands on the keys, feeling comfortable and at ease as I gently ran my fingers along them. I played an unfamiliar tune, something that simply came to me as my fingers did their magic. I noticed that everyone had their eyes in my direction, and I stopped abruptly.
“That is magnificent,” someone said beside me. I could distinctly hear what I thought must have been a British accent mingled in their voice, “If not a tad melancholic,” they added.
“Um, thank you,” I blushed.
“Whose was it?”
“Mine,” I said quietly, almost wishing I had stuck to something well known to avoid the attention. Then I looked up, astonished by what I saw. Sitting next to me on the bench was a student I had never seen before in this class...or in the entire school, for that matter. He had a pleasant smile that ceased to fade as he stared at me through pale blue eyes. He came into full focus – short, shaggy black hair that fell across his pale face, a long-sleeved burgundy V-neck shirt that hung loosely against his thin body, black slacks and a brilliant smile. His appearance was very unfitting for this school...maybe he was dressed for a meeting with the drama club after school or something.
“Where did you learn to play so well?” he asked, and I noticed how silky his voice was.
“My mom put me through lessons when I was a kid. The rest I learned here,” I answered confidently.
“I am impressed.”
“I’ve never seen you here before,” I spat out, without meaning to. I looked away suddenly.
“That is because I have never been here until today,” he replied and unexpectedly put his hand to my chin and turned my face back toward him. “I find you very intriguing.”
I blinked. “What?”
“I will see you later.”
“No, wait!” But it was too late; he was already exiting the room as the words escaped my mouth.
As I pondered this unfamiliar new student, I continued playing on the piano – this time choosing something less conspicuous and before I knew it, the bell was ringing. Stopping playing, I couldn't help but notice some students were staring in my direction still and talking in hushed voices. Clearly it hadn't solely been my music that had caught their attention, but the out-of-place new kid as well. I sat there a few moments longer, still somewhat in shock from the encounter with this new boy, as I watched the rest of the students flood through the classroom door. After I gathered my thoughts, I exited the room and raced toward gym.
3. SALEM
I met Jason and Karen on the bleachers, where I tied my shoelaces that had somewhere along the way come undone. Karen stared at me inquisitively.
“What's up, Alex?” she asked as I hopped off of the bleachers.
“Not much,” I answered. “Just wondering who this new kid is that I met in music class.”
“Some music nerd, huh?” Jason snickered.
My eyes lowered to the ground when he said that, but I tried to ignore the comment. “No. He was...different,” I said difficultly, trying not to show my true emotions toward what he had said.
“Different how?” Karen asked as she passed me a volleyball. I sighed, hating sports with a passion.
I hit the ball over the net absentmindedly as I talked to my friends. “There was just something strange about him...I don't know.”
“I haven't noticed any new kids in any of my classes,” Jason said as he deflected the incoming ball, sending it back over the net with ease.
“Me either,” Karen agreed.
“Maybe he isn't in any of your classes,” I said, but I knew that was near impossible. The school wasn't that big. Willowshire High School held a student body count of maybe a hundred kids.
As the volleyball game was coming to an end, Jason and Karen pulled me along to the bleachers again. We each sat there, catching our breath when the inevitable happened – Jason brought up the subject I knew was coming.
“So, when's the party?” he grinned.
“There isn't going to be a party, Jace.”
“It won't be a problem at all, I swear!” he practically begged.
“Fine. Sunday night,” I gave in with a worried frown. “That gives you two days to plan, so you better hurry. And no alcohol!”
“Yes, ma'am!” he said triumphantly, “I'll catch up with you two later. I have to head home, lots of planning to do!”
“See you later,” Karen and I said in unison.
“Do you want me to ride home with you?” she asked as we watched Jason exit the gymnasium.
“Why would I want that?”
“I just thought,” she paused momentarily, and then continued, “That since your mom is gone...you might get lonely,” she said sorrowfully.
I smiled up at her, but shook my head. “It's all right. A night alone might do me some good. Maybe I’ll call her and straighten things out...”
“All right. I'll see you next week, then,” she gave me a quick worried glance, a quick hug, and then turned and left.
And there I was, alone on the bleachers. I reluctantly got up and walked off to my locker to collect my book bag. As I slowly walked through the gym I considered the possibility of calling my mom when I returned home. What would I even say to her, though? I was certain I wouldn't be able to control my fury and hurt, that it would begin with an outburst of accusations on how she decided her plans were more importa
nt, how Mark was more important than me...and then it dawned on me how similar this felt to when dad abandoned us eleven years ago. Had she realized this? I could feel the warmth of tears welling up behind my eyes and it was hard to hold it back as the pain and knowing seeped in. Was I doing something wrong to cause my parents to leave me? My pace quickened as I felt the tears trickling down my cheeks. I had to get out of here, before someone noticed...
The sun had decided to peek out through the clouds a little and I was pleased to see the puddles were starting to dry up. The water on the asphalt was deeper than this morning, however, and I could feel the moisture seeping into my shoes. I was about four feet from my car before my feet were completely soaked. The tears were drying against my skin, and I hoped no one would notice as I passed through the parking lot. I stopped abruptly when I saw the boy from music class leaning up against the Alero. I gulped and cautiously walked up to him.
“What are you doing?” I asked suspiciously.
“I was waiting for you,” he said simply. As I looked him over, I noticed his clothing wasn't damp and his feet were not soaked, unlike mine. How had he managed to get through the parking lot unscathed?
My brows furrowed. “And how’d you know this was my car?”
“One of your friends told me.”
“Oh, really?” I asked, “Which one?”
He paused to think, as if he couldn't quite place the name. “A tall, blonde haired girl.”
“Karen...” I whispered.
“That was it!” he beamed, “she also mentioned that tomorrow is a special day for you.”
“I told her not to tell anyone...”
“Why would you do that?” he seemed genuinely confused.
“I’ve just never really liked birthdays is all,” I muttered, eying him curiously. “And, why in the world would she tell you of all people that anyway?”
“But you are blessed with another year of life,” he smiled brilliantly at me and ignored my question, then unexpectedly said, “I want to take you somewhere, if you are willing. Or perhaps I should say I would like for you to take me somewhere, I suppose.”
“I don't even know you, and you want me to take you somewhere?” I was bewildered and yet enthralled that this boy was even talking to me.
“We can introduce each other on the way,” he offered.
I shook my head, uncertain. “Maybe some other time.”
“It has to be now,” he insisted.
“Give me one good reason why it has to be now.”
“There's no time like the present?” he suggested with a grin. “Tomorrow you could be gone, or I could be gone and then we would never have this opportunity again.”
“Fine,” I said as I took in his words, feeling depressed at the idea of going to an empty house, anyway – if not a little reckless, “But, I'm driving.”
The boy eyed the car and nodded. “It is probably best that way, and as I corrected myself – I want you to take me somewhere.”
“You don't know how to drive?” I inquired as I unlocked the passenger side door for him.
“That's one way to put it,” he smiled lightly as he sat down.
I walked over to the driver side and climbed in, started the ignition and glanced over at him. There was something comforting about his presence, but I couldn't quite place what it was. He directed me toward wherever our destination was, which eventually led us down a winding road that made me very nervous to drive on. We passed a field of feasting cows near a small, broken down house, and then everything grew into dense forest and rock.
“Where are we going?”
“You will see. It is just a little further,” he said, gazing out the window at the scenery, although he must have seen it lots of times before, or so I assumed.
I thought for a moment about just turning around. Had I been tricked by some serial killer or rapist in my moment of vulnerability from this morning's events? I glanced over at the stranger in my car for a brief moment; he seemed harmless enough, sitting there with his ever-present grin. I shook the thoughts from my mind for now and focused back onto the road and listened to the directions I was being given.
I became increasingly anxious as we rode down the twisting, thin road. The asphalt suddenly evolved into a dirt road that felt like it went on for miles and miles ahead of us. I hadn't noticed the turn to our left until he pointed it out. I slowly jerked the car down the new path and we were soon approaching a tall, beautiful Victorian house planted in the middle of the blossoming foliage.
“Where are we?” I asked in an awed voice.
“My home,” he said pleasantly. “But, before we enter, I made you a promise. My name is Salem Young,” he explained bitterly, which by the look on his face I assumed he hoped I hadn't noticed.
“You don't like your name?” I asked.
“I suppose that is what you would say,” he answered, “it is somewhat contradictory.”
“Contradictory to what?” I asked, confused.
“You will find out soon enough,” he said. “Your name is Alexis Hobbs.”
“I take it Karen told you that, too, did she?” I asked with a grimace.
He ignored my question, climbed out of the car and quickly walked to my side, opened the door and offered me his hand.
I thought for a moment before I reluctantly took his hand, barely noticing the difference in his skin's temperature. He smiled as he gracefully led me to the alabaster stairs. We climbed up the stairway and I stared, mystified, at the tall white doors. The windows were stained glass images of what I recognized to be Celtic knots in beautiful shades of blues and greens. Salem grasped the brass door handle and swiftly opened the large doors, revealing an immaculate living area. The walls were painted a dull gray that perfectly contrasted the white sectional sofa pushed up against the furthest wall. Behind the couch was a wide window overlooking a lake. In front of the couch lay a large black rug that covered the otherwise white tiled floor, and atop the rug was a rectangular glass coffee table. I was somewhat surprised not to see a TV anywhere.
On the other side of the room was a vast bookshelf, every inch of which was crammed with books of all sizes. An armchair identical in color to the sectional sofa sat nestled in a small nook beside the bookcase. Beside the chair was a tall, silver floor lamp. As I was admiring the room, Salem came up behind me and grasped my shoulders. I jumped, startled by his touch, but relaxed as he spun me around toward a spiral staircase that led upstairs. It wasn't the staircase that caught my attention, but the large, white grand piano that sat to the right of it.
“It's beautiful...” I said in a mere whisper. “Is your family rich or something?
“What?” he looked shocked at my assumption, but his expression turned soft and he smiled as he seemed to do more often than not. “I don't live with my family.”
“Then you are rich?” I laughed, staring at him in awe.
“Not at all.”
“Then how do you afford to live here?”
“You'll find out soon enough,” he repeated and turned toward the kitchen, waving me to follow.
Mahogany cabinets lined the back walls, and a black refrigerator and stove stood out amongst them. A small dining table was set against a broad window. The curtains were drawn, but the room was still bright despite there being no lights on.
After I allowed myself to admire the house, I realized how soaked my feet still were. “Do you care if I take these off?” I asked shyly.
“Of course not.”
I walked to the front door, cringing with each step as the water sloshed around in my shoes. I opened the doors, knelt down and untied the moist laces. I looked up and contemplated just running to my car and leaving this place behind for good. If this boy, no doubt the same age as myself, was staying in a place like this with no family and no money of his own then maybe my once seemingly crazy suspicions were right. For all I knew he had found this place and killed the previous inhabitants and I had just been unlucky enough to be the next r
andom victim he had chosen.
Before I had time to think about fleeing anymore, the door behind me cracked open slightly and his smooth voice came gliding out. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I…these shoes are just kind of stuck,” I lied as I tugged them off, pretending it was harder than it really was. It was too late to run to the car now.
After removing my wet socks and hanging them over the banister I followed Salem back inside and into the immense kitchen where he suddenly spun around to face me. “Tomorrow, everything will change,” he said suddenly. I gulped, not liking the serious tone in his voice. I should have run when I had the chance.
“I'll just be turning eighteen,” I said as I stepped back slightly.
“You will be a whole different person,” his eyes were withdrawn now and the once permanent smile had faded, “and I will be partially at fault.”
“What are you talking about Salem?” I could hear the panic in my voice as I tried to step back once again but was unable to move.
“Don't worry, Alexis,” he smiled somberly. “Once the clock strikes midnight, I can tell you everything.”
“Midnight?!” I almost laughed, despite my nerves. “You expect me to stay here until midnight!?”
“Only if you will.”
“Why midnight?”
“Don't make me say it again,” he smirked. I could distinctly hear his voice in my head repeating 'You'll find out soon enough'.
I looked at the simple black-banded watch on my right wrist. It was only now seven o'clock. It wasn't so much that I needed to get back home, but how could I possibly stay here with this stranger for the next five hours? I glanced up into his eyes and I saw something alluring and comforting...part of me truly wanted to stay. But when I let myself think it through, I knew this had to be a mistake and I couldn’t help continuously coming back to the possibility that this boy was far more lethal than he looked.
“I don't think I can stay here, Salem,” I muttered as I tore my eyes away and took yet another step.
“Do you have someplace to be?” he asked.
