“Oh great, just my luck. Now my favorite class is ruined,” I murmured under my breath, popping my gum lightly in irritation.
She introduced him to the class and escorted him to—surprise—the empty seat directly across the table from me.
As he took his seat, he stared at me with an amused expression, a slight smirk on his lips. It was amazing how much that irritated me. I crossed my arms over my chest and scowled at him. If he thinks his charms are gonna work on me, he’s in for a big, fat, gnarly surprise.
“Okay class, everyone take out your sketchpads,” Mrs. Reed began. “As I told you last week, starting today, we’ll begin on our portraits. Now I apologize if some of you have done this assignment before, but we’re competing with the other classes, so do your best. Other than paints, you’re free to choose whatever tools you prefer. I’m waiting for our sculpting clay to arrive for our next project. It’ll take a week, so you have that time to complete your work. You’re going to partner up with the person sitting directly across the table from you. Charity, now that you have a partner you won’t be drawing me.”
Great.
“I want this side of the table to draw this side first. You may begin when you’re ready.”
Oh wonderful, Levi got to draw me first. He could just draw a bulldog with fangs. I’m sure that’s how I looked to him, not to mention how I felt.
“I guess I get to draw you first,” he scoffed.
“Gee, you’re very observant.”
He opened his sketchpad, took out his charcoal pencil, and glanced up at me under his thick, black lashes. “This is going to be harder than I thought,” he murmured under his breath, but I managed to hear him. “Could you at least try to have a pleasing expression?”
“This is my pleasing expression,” I snapped.
“You know it’s occurred to me that perhaps you just don’t know how to smile, but could you fake it?”
“Too much effort. Besides, I do know how to smile—just not at you.”
“So you want your scowl forever imprinted in the minds of those who’ll see my work?”
“You seem to have a lot of faith in your talent.”
He just smirked, and after a brief moment of staring added, “You don’t like me very much, do you?”
“Do you want the truth or the sugar-coated version?”
“The truth.”
“You make me feel like I need to throw up.”
“Great. Is it too late for the sugar-coated version?”
“That was the sugar-coated version.”
“It’s funny but I was under the impression that you didn’t even know me.” His gaze turned piercing.
I met his gaze head on. “And your point?”
He sighed in frustration.
I folded my arms across my chest as he began. When he looked down at his pad I secretly stared at him, prepared to look away the moment he glanced up at me. His face was terrifyingly handsome and chiseled, with a nice, strong jaw-line. His bottom lip was full and pouty, and his wavy, brown hair was slightly in disarray, but very sexy, framing his face nicely. It’s the kind of hair you instantly wanted to run your hands through. His skin was tanned, and he was wearing a white button-up shirt that was unbuttoned enough to reveal some hair at the base of his throat along with a defined Adam’s apple.
Studying him almost brought tears to my eyes. I suddenly realized I couldn’t find even one outward flaw—no birthmark—no freckle—not even a pimple. All the flaws must be concentrated on the inside then. After all, a guy that good-looking, deep down, has to be a self-absorbed, arrogant, disrespectful jerk. He might have everyone else in this stinkin’ school fooled with his charm, smoldering good looks, and sexy smirk, but I wasn’t buying it. I’ve seen, all too often, the true nature of the opposite sex, and as a result I’ve concluded that none can be trusted.
He sighed again as he peered up at me. I wasn’t making it easy for him, and I smiled as I took the tip of my gum and strung it out and around my finger before putting it back in my mouth. I repeated the gesture over and over, enjoying his growing irritation.
“Could you please stop doing that?” he whispered.
“Stop doing what?” I smirked, taking my gum out again. Before I could counter, he reached across the table, snatching it from me and popping it in his mouth.
“Mmm, watermelon—my favorite.” His eyes twinkled with delight.
“No he didn’t,” I said in disbelief, my mouth gaping open. Though I have to admit I admired the boldness of the move.
He picked up his pencil and began again. I had no idea what he was drawing, but I was sure it wouldn’t look a thing like me. He was probably drawing Gollum, or E.T., or something creepy like that. I pulled my dark hoodie over my head and tried to keep my gaze focused on the phone in my lap. It was harder than I thought. I found myself looking up more often than I’d like to admit.
I was beginning to feel a little uncomfortable as he studied my face. He peered boldly into my eyes, drifting his gaze to my lips, even moistening his with a stroke of his tongue, a very distracting gesture to say the least. No doubt he was mocking me, all the while chewing my gum. I wondered when the torture would end.
I was relieved and out of my seat before the bell stopped ringing, shoving my things into my backpack with fervent speed.
“Thanks for the gum,” he commented.
“Any time,” I responded without looking up. “You know you really shouldn’t try to talk and chew at the same time. I’d hate for you to choke.”
“Are you saying you wouldn’t perform the Heimlich?”
I looked up then, observing his poor attempt at looking hurt. “I didn’t pay attention in class when they were teaching that part. But if that’s the one where you hit someone repeatedly in the back until they cough it up, then yes I’d love to.” I smirked.
When he opened his mouth to respond, I decided it was best to make my escape and darted from the room.
All of the seniors who got out early were headed to the parking lot. I wasn’t surprised to see Levi Drake among us. I was surprised, however, to see the handful of followers who had gathered around him. He seemed to command attention, whether he knew it or not. He walked over to a brand new, cobalt blue Mustang GT with tinted windows. It was a nice looking car. It fit him. I, on the other hand, headed for my red Honda Civic. I loved my little Civic, though it wasn’t new, shiny, or even very fast. It also didn’t leak, squeak, rattle, or smoke, and it had a rockin’ sound system.
Ashley met me at my car. “Levi ‘Lava-Hottie’ and his friends are staring over here,” she whispered.
“Yeah, he’s probably telling them what a jerk I was to him in our last class.”
“What? You had another class with him? That rots!” She huffed in mock irritation. “You know, Charity, you don’t have to drive away every guy who might like you. Striving to remain untouchable must be totally exhausting. Maybe it’s time you let someone get close. They’re not all perverts like Frank you know. You can’t judge all by the actions of one.”
“Yes I can, and besides he doesn’t like me.” Then mumbling under my breath I added, “I’ve made sure of that.” I let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t care who the guy is—I don’t trust any of them.”
“You don’t really mean that.”
“Yes I do. And what’s wrong with being untouchable. It’s safe.”
“And boring. He must be really nice to have made friends so quickly. Oh, that reminds me, Sherry, from my Spanish class, said she heard that some of the jocks are annoyed at all the attention Levi’s getting. Isn’t that ridiculous? As if they don’t get enough attention of their own. She said they’re thinking of doing something to him to remind him of his place.”
“Well, Levi’s place has already been established. And at the moment, he’s sitting pretty at the top of W. W. High’s food chain.”
“You know, Charity, you have an odd sense of humor.”
“Thanks.”
“That w
asn’t a compliment.”
“Sure it was.”
On the way home I told Ashley all about Art class. She thought it was funny, especially the part about Levi snatching my gum. A bold move, she agreed. Probably just trying to get under my skin, she’d said. And he had succeeded, though I would be hard-pressed to admit it.
Ashley was grounded for breaking curfew and wasn’t allowed to use her car, so Stacy and I were taking turns giving her a lift home.
“Do you need to stay at my house today, or is Frank working?” she asked.
“No, Frank will be working all day today.”
“I still can’t believe your mom hasn’t figured out what a pompous jerk Frank is. Why did she marry him? Is she completely blind?”
“Yes, and that’s the way I want it. He makes her happy. She hasn’t been this happy since before my dad died. He’s different with her, gentle even, and he treats her good. After graduation I’ll be gone and her happiness will no longer be in jeopardy.”
“Do you know how crazy that logic sounds?”
“Sure, but what’s my alternative? After I’m gone, his temptation will also be gone. Maybe everything will be fine then.”
“Well, all you have to do is hang in there a little longer until we get an apartment together and enroll in our nursing classes. Speaking of apartments, do you think you’ll get another job soon, since you got fired from Pete’s?” Pete’s Paint and Supplies, until recently, is the store I’ve worked at every day for the past year.
“I’m not sure right now. With this being our last semester, I’d sort of like to focus on my grades. Mom’s supporting me though. She says I’ll have the rest of my life to work. And I didn’t get fired—I quit. I got tired of that slime ball Jerry hitting on me every chance he got. He made working there intolerable.”
“Well, how are we gonna get an apartment together if you don’t have a job?”
“Hold the phone, Little Miss Perky Pants! Don’t get your eyelashes stuck in double-duty knots. I’ll get a full-time job right after graduation, and I’ve got some money saved. Also, Pete said I could have my job back, full-time, once I graduate, and I just might consider it if Jerry’s gone.”
“Hmm, he was a jerk. Too bad you didn’t punch him in the nose.”
“Who said I didn’t.” I smirked.
“You’re my hero, you know that, right?”
“Yeah—and you’re mine—minus the perky part.”
“Ha, ha. I’d laugh if that were funny.”
“You just did.”
Ashley and I are inseparable, soul sisters, but physically we’re extreme opposites. Where I am tall, busty, with long, dark hair and crystal blue eyes; she is short, flat chested with cropped, blonde hair and big, brown eyes. “Never pretty, always cute” is her motto. We often wish we could switch bodies. You know, grass is always greener and all that. Side by side she looks like a pixie dwarf, that or I look like the Jolly Green Giant, take your pick. But I’ve never had a more loyal and devoted friend, and I imagine I never will.
When I pulled in my driveway, I glanced in my rearview mirror and thought I saw a blue Mustang pass by. “Nah, it couldn’t be,” I said to myself, shaking my head as I exited the car.
Once inside, I went straight to the refrigerator to get a glass of tea. I had just taken a long, slow sip, when I heard Frank call to me from the front door. He was home way too early, and feeling panic rush over me, I urged myself to think calmly about what to do next. I knew I needed to get to my room or my car. I couldn’t let him get his hands on me, not with so little time left under his roof. I took a deep breath and made a mad dash for the stairs, but he intercepted me as I rounded the corner.
He stood blocking my escape and the look in his eyes sent a shiver down my spine and up again. I’ve seen that look before and it normally meant he’d been drinking.
“Where are you going in such a hurry young lady?” He took a step in my direction and instant panic consumed me. I glanced around, observing no escape.
God promised me three years ago that Frank would never be allowed to harm me, and I’ve never doubted it until that instant.
My breathing became frantic. “No, Frank, please don’t.”
“Don’t what? I just want to talk to you. No harm in that, is there?” He took another step toward me.
“Please think about this. You’ll break my mom’s heart. I know you don’t want to do that. Now, please let me pass—please.” I pleaded.
I began to pray, calling on my Higher Power for the rescue I was in desperate need of.
My dad had a strong faith, and well I guess I do too, or did, but the last few years have taken their toll on my faith—what with my dad’s brutal murder and all. Before he died, the one thing he was adamant about teaching me was that sometimes our problems are too big for us, but they’re never too big for God. It must’ve stuck with me because in that moment I knew that God was the only one who could help me—that or send someone who would.
Frank took one more step, putting him right in front of me, when the sudden and frantic ring of the doorbell distracted him.
I took advantage of his distraction and darted around him, up the stairs, and into my bedroom where I locked the door and secured my chair against it.
I heard him open the front door, but apparently no one was there because he charged straight up to my room and began banging on my door. I opened my window and crawled out onto the flat roof outside of my room. I often climbed out there when I needed to think—or in this case, escape from the clutches of a maniac out to destroy my happiness.
I covered my ears and cried as Frank continued to bang and yell obscenities at me. The only thing that kept him from breaking down my door was the fear of explaining it to my mother.
I thought I heard someone walking around the house under me. I looked over the eaves onto the ground below, but couldn’t see anyone. I knew it wasn’t Frank; he was still cursing me through my door. Oh well, I guess I must’ve imagined it. First the Mustang, then someone at the back of the house, I was beginning to think all of the stress was finally getting to me.
I sat out on that roof for the rest of the day. When it started to turn dark I crawled back in through my window, but stayed in my room until my mom came home. As a real estate agent, her hours could sometimes be long and hectic. I look a lot like her, except for the stubborn gray locks that had managed to sneak in when she wasn’t looking. I figured it wouldn’t be long before she took matters into her own hands, freeing herself of the menacing locks threatening her youth. She often questioned why I didn’t have supper ready when she got home, but, besides the fact that I rot at cooking, I couldn’t tell her that I locked myself in my room so her psycho husband wouldn’t attack me. I mostly used homework as my excuse, but on this day I realized that my backpack, with my homework in it, was still in the kitchen. I guessed that meant late hours of homework for me. Calculus alone kept me up till midnight.
The next day, during lunch, the torture began. It was bad enough living through the annoyance of my gum exchange with Levi once, but reliving it over as Ashley told the others was just downright painful. They began teasing me immediately. I knew I’d have to think of a good way to get Ashley back—one that required pain—lots of pain.
“I dare you to go over there right now and kiss him on the lips,” Delaney challenged.
“What? Are you delusional? Why would I do a stupid thing like that?”
“I double dare you,” she persisted.
“Uh oh! Charity’s never turned down a double dare in her life,” Ashley added.
“Yeah, well this will be the first. I have nothing to prove to you. I’m not making a fool out of myself for your enjoyment. Do I look like a total donkey?”
“He’d be the idiot of all idiots to reject you,” Toby said.
I smiled. “Thanks, Toby.” I glared at the others. “At least someone’s looking out for me.”
“But will you do it for twenty bucks?” Toby asked, slapping
the bill down on the table.
I gaped at my friends as they all dug in their pockets, bringing out what money they had on them.
“I have twenty,” Stacy said, slapping hers down.
“I only have ten,” Delaney said, repeating the gesture.
“I have ten,” Ashley said.
“What, Ash, you too?”
She shrugged. “I’m only human, Charity. I wanna see the hottest people in the school swap spit too,” she said, her muddy brown eyes full of mischief.
Charity Moon Page 2
