Siren's Song

by Heather McCollum

  He turns out onto the road. “So, you still thinking of going all the way to Boston for college?”

  “Ah, that’s the plan, but I’ll have to see how things are going with my mom. And BU might not accept me.”

  “If they hear you sing, they will.” He drives in silence for a minute. I count the street lamps until he reaches my dark road. “I was thinking that I might want to play for Boston,” he murmurs.

  My head snaps toward him. “But you’re doing great at State. You’re in your second year there.”

  He shrugs. “Boston’s been doing really well this season and they have a strong business program.”

  I feel my throat clog. Would he really follow me all the way to Massachusetts? He pulls into my driveway. “Thanks for the ride,” I manage to whisper. I open the door, but his hand closes around my wrist. I tug against his hold.

  “Just think about it,” he says. “Coffee sometime.” And he releases me.

  4

  “It’s choice—not chance—that determines your destiny.”

  ~Jean Nidetch

  “You smell nice—flowers with a hint of chocolate.”

  Luke’s voice is like an epinephrine shot, direct into a main artery. I glare around the open door of my locker and talk over my ricocheting heart. “You don’t do surprises, but you sneak up on people.” He wasn’t in homeroom, so I hadn’t been expecting him.

  He opens his locker without even turning the combination. “And you lose yourself in the details.”

  “What?” I stare at the dark hair that brushes his strong jaw line. A rough outline of a beard and mustache shadows his face, like he forgot to shave. Testosterone must be cranking in his lean, sculpted body.

  “I make the same amount of noise as other people.” He turns to me and shrugs, a teasing grin on his perfect mouth. “You’re just engrossed with the details of life, so you didn’t notice when I walked up.”

  “You mean the thrilling details of my utterly bland locker?”

  He glances inside the narrow metal cage. I haven’t even had time to hang a mirror or pictures. “Perhaps you’re engrossed with whatever is whirling around under that thick mane of rich, dark silk.” He sifts his fingers through my hair and lets it drop. Rich, dark silk? Who says that? I forget to breathe as I engross myself in the minute details of how his lips formed those words when he was looking at me with those midnight-blue eyes.

  “Very well. I’ll try again.” He pulls his face back around to his side of my locker. “Hey, Jule,” he practically yells and pokes his head around. “You smell nice.”

  I stare open mouthed. “Uh…it’s lilac something.”

  “Like that tree off your porch. It’s lilac, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah, I like to sit near it when I do my homework. The fresh air after being in school all day is refreshing.” Oh God! I’m babbling now.

  He slams his locker shut with a cocky smile and walks beside me toward chemistry. “Aye, fresh air. Ye should feel it coming off the mountains. No amount of coffee will wake ye up like that.”

  I squint at Luke. Did he just rattle off a Scottish brogue like a Highland native? “Where are you from?” But before Luke can say anything else Matt Kenzie jogs up like he’s been looking for us. His usual playboy smile is muted by a serious set to his jaw.

  “Hey, Luke,” he calls. Matt looks directly at me and his grin broadens. It’s the grin I’ve seen him release on a girl he’s trying to impress. It certainly worked on Carly. “Hey, Jule.”

  “Hey,” I mumble back and keep walking. He falls in line with us.

  “So, Jule.” He said my name, so now I have to look at him or be a rude beyotch. I balance on that decision for a moment before turning to him. After all, Carly doesn’t seem to hate him, at least not consciously. I wait impatiently for him to talk.

  “You want to go out this weekend?” Matt asks. Shock must have twisted my face because he chuckles. “We haven’t given us a chance.” In the periphery I see Luke snap his teeth shut. “There’s a bonfire near the golf course, Saturday night. We could, you know, go together.”

  “Mathi–Matt,” Luke says softly. It sounds like a warning. My gaze ping-pongs between them.

  But Matt holds up his large paw. “I just want her to know she’s got options here.”

  What the hell? Options? Is he serious? “Um, geez, Matt, thanks, but I’m already going to the bonfire with my best friend, Carly. You know Carly…Carly Ashe.”

  “God, yes, I remember Carly Ashe.” Matt smiles and holds his hand to his heart like he is remembering the love of his life. “Carly Ashe has the sweetest little a—”

  “Enough, Matt,” Luke says and shoves him. Matt must weigh close to two hundred pounds, but his body flies across the hallway into a set of lockers. Matt comes back, a casual strut at war with the anger building like a nuclear mushroom in his eyes. He doesn’t seem hurt at all.

  Luke stares him down. “Coming back for more?”

  Several teachers step into the hallway at the commotion. Students gawk, a few stepping up to fill the teachers in on the tense situation.

  Luke’s face ices over.

  “Maybe later, brother,” Matt draws out the last word. He smiles at me despite the sharp glint in his eyes. “Just think about it, Jule. You’ve got options.” Matt saunters off. I let out a little huff in bewilderment, my eyes wide.

  Matt is the second guy telling me to “think about it” in the last twenty-four hours. Options? What the hell does that mean? Did Luke say he liked me? I don’t think Luke’s given me an option. What would I say if he did? The thought clenches in my stomach, sending a ripple of adrenaline out through me in all directions. It’s the same thrill you get at the end of the slow, jolting trip up a rollercoaster as it crests, just before you plummet toward possible death.

  I walk numbly into the chemistry room, my body overloaded with nervous energy. Once again, all eyes seem to be on me. Soooo what I don’t need. Taylin stares me down as I take my seat next to Kiara. My knee bounces up and down rapidly under the desk.

  “Whew,” Kiara whispers loudly. “What was that about?”

  I shake my head as Mr. Perkins begins a lecture about not loitering in the halls before class. “We have a no-tolerance policy toward violence at Cougar Creek, or even threat of violence.” Everyone might be glancing toward the back where Luke sits against the wall with Taylin, but I know Luke’s staring into my back, where I swear my skin warms.

  Chemistry drags as I try to concentrate on the information Mr. Perkins jots on the board. In the end, I just copy everything he writes. I don’t even know what the topic is. Apparently, my absorption of details doesn’t pertain to chemistry.

  At the tone, I bolt out of my seat and stride toward the girl’s bathroom. It’s bad enough Luke will be in my next two classes, I don’t need to walk with him, too. He brings way too much attention to me at a time I’d like to just blend into the pale concrete walls. Forget that he’s gorgeous in every way I can think of. Forget that he said I smell like flowers and have silky hair. Forget the soft feel of his fingers along my cheek when he touched me. He is too complicated. My life is way too complicated already without worrying about a guy with a temper problem bringing every set of eyes toward me.

  After splashing water on my face, reapplying my lip gloss, and ignoring the triumphant, faux-pity stare of Rachel Manx, I head out to grab my English notebook and run to class. As I round the corner to my locker, Luke and Matt are standing toe to toe. I freeze. Taylin turns to pierce me with a thorny stare. She grabs Luke’s wrist and the two guys turn my way, but I’ve already decided to go to English without my notebook. Maybe I need to start carrying the contents of my locker with me all day.

  * * *

  Luke doesn’t say much to me the rest of the day, and I make it to drama without any more “options,” dark stares, or murderous body language. Derek plops down next to me on one side and Madison on the other.

  “So, I hear Matt and Luke almost broke into a fist
fight over you this morning,” Derek says.

  “Actually, Luke was defending Carly.” Not that I want to give details, but I need to stop the gossip that this was about me.

  Madison shakes her head. “I was there. Even if Carly’s name came up, the whole thing was obviously about you, Jule. How’d you manage to bag the interest of the two hottest guys in school?”

  “Hey, what am I?” Derek asks indignantly. He sits up straighter and flexes his modestly impressive biceps.

  “Number three hot guy,” Madison fires back. “That’s not bad out of a student body of thirteen hundred.” Derek looks placated and props his feet up on the seat in front of him.

  “Have you all thought about what roles you’d like to audition for?” Ms. Bishop asks. Her eyes scan the seats, pausing briefly on me. A few students answer while I stay mute and as small as possible. “There’s a star in every one of you,” she continues. Derek snickers like he doesn’t believe that the rest of the class could possibly have star quality like him.

  “Today we will work on learning some of the songs,” she continues. “For some of you, this will be a repeat, I’m sure.”

  Oh yeah, I’ve been hearing the songs from Phantom of the Opera since I was a baby. Don’t sing. My promise to my mother grips my throat and I sigh. For the next hour I’ll just follow along silently. Ms. Bishop watches me with narrowed eyes. She knows I can sing every word.

  When the tone sounds, I leap up and out the doors. I don’t need her questions. I round the corner to my locker, holding my breath. I release it when I see Carly, only Carly, waiting there. She had a dentist appointment at lunch, so I haven’t seen her since this morning. My shoulders relax.

  Her gaze scans the hall with overly large eyes. “I swear, Jule, I’m nearly freaking out,” she says as I throw books into my bag.

  “What’s up?” I try to sound casual. Could anything more have happened I don’t know about?

  “Kiara said that Matt and Luke were fighting over you this morning, and that Luke punched Matt into the lockers. And then Hunter saw the two of them arguing at Luke’s locker.” She thumps said locker. “Hunter couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Matt was talking a lot, and Luke was scowling like he was going to punch Matt again.”

  “Luke didn’t punch Matt; it was a shove.”

  “Across the hall!” she hisses. I see the lines of hurt around Carly’s eyes. Shit, she still likes the Neanderthal.

  “Carly, I don’t like Matt. I don’t think he likes me, either. I’m just someone he hasn’t…” I am going to say “screwed”, but luckily my brain kicks in. “…someone he hasn’t gone out with yet. And he seems to be real close to Luke. He called him brother again. Maybe they have a rivalry going on. Matt’s never looked at me twice before, and I didn’t just become supermodel quality overnight. Which is what he usually goes for.” I indicate Carly’s adorable, shapely, yet slender build. “When I mentioned you, he seemed to… well, remember how gorgeous you are.”

  “Really?” Carly’s voice squeaks a bit.

  Crap–I don’t want to make Carly like the bastard again. I shake my head. “He’s no good, Carly, even if he comes onto you a second time. He’s a hit it and quit it kind of guy.”

  “I know.” She lets out a long sigh. A grin forms along the tight line of her mouth, as if the poison of jealousy blew out on her exhale. Her eyes narrow like a sneaky idea has formed under her cute curly hair. “You know, with all this insanity going on, we should have a code word,” she says. Carly’s always loved Nancy Drew mysteries and likes to prepare for all types of evil-doings.

  We walk down the emptying hall together. “Why?”

  “Well, if one of us is in trouble but it’s not obvious, like if you want to get away from Luke or if he’s mentioned killing someone and then he tells you to get rid of me, you say the code word or phrase, and I leave like it’s a natural thing, but then I run like hell for help.”

  She’s rambling, so I wait for her to finish. “Okay. A code word. In case we need help, but we don’t want the bad guy to know we’re asking for help.”

  “Exactly.” Carly loops her arm through mine as we step out into the late summer heat.

  “Got any suggestions?” We climb into her car. I don’t see any sign of Luke or his strange family. Everything seems normal and I suddenly feel silly for worrying so much.

  “How about, ‘Jule, can you go get me a snow cone?’” she suggests.

  I raise one eyebrow. “That would sound suspicious in the middle of January.”

  She laughs. “Let’s hear your ideas.”

  “How about, ‘Do you have any lip gloss?’” I say.

  “What if you really need lip gloss?”

  I shake my head but smile widely. “Okay…how about, ‘Carly, can you get my iced-strawberry lip gloss?’”

  “Yeah! You could say it’s in my car or in your locker or something. Then I could say I’ll go get it, when I’m really calling the cops.”

  I laugh. “Sounds good; tasty, even.”

  “Iced-strawberry lip gloss,” Carly repeats to remember the phrase. “Hopefully, we’ll never need it.”

  * * *

  The next day drags along without any spectacles. Luke barely talks to me, but I still feel his stare. It’s like a constant burn on my back that radiates out along my arms and neck. And when I twist around, to show him I’ve caught him, he doesn’t look away like a normal person would. He just continues to stare with those dark, brooding eyes, arms crossed over the tight T-shirt covering his chest. He gives me a lopsided grin. When I glance away, I feel like I’ve lost somehow, backed down, even though I don’t know what the contest is about.

  The house is so quiet. Even Mica seems low. I stroke her head while we sit on the porch by the lilac tree. It smells like what I imagine heaven must smell like, clean and sweet. I do homework mechanically, but my mind ping-pongs among Luke’s bizarre friendships, Matt’s and Eric’s “options” and Mom’s warnings.

  It’s almost dark when the lamp on the corner of the subdivision where Luke lives blinks on. Luke. Geesh, he really is the least of my worries compared to possibly being stalked by people I thought were my second family, or to my mother being completely crazy. And Eric acted so weird at dinner the other night, asking me out, making it sound like he’d follow me to college.

  The worst part is that I can’t download all this to Carly. God, Carly. I can’t…I mean, I don’t believe that she is in any way part of this. She is closer to me than a real blood sister could possibly be. We know everything about each other, silly secret dreams and crazy wants. Without Carly, I have no one.

  I sit on the swing and let my legs dangle. My bare toes push against the polished wood to set the swing in motion. I scan the twilight behind me and my breath hitches. A tall figure leans against one of our old maple trees, watching me. Eric Ashe? God! Shit! Shadows mask him until he pushes away, and I inhale again. Not Eric. Luke. I stand up and Mica barks.

  “Hey,” he says as he jumps easily onto the porch. He’s wearing his usual black tee that shows off his arms, and longish athletic shorts. “I thought I’d stop by to say hi. You know, without my annoying sidekicks.”

  I sniff out a little laugh. “Hi,” I say and cross my arms.

  “Hi.”

  Stilted silence except for the crazy, barking dog. “Shhh, Mica! I’d better take her in.” Mica stops and sniffs at Luke’s huge athletic shoes and his muscled calves. God, hockey must really make a guy bulk up.

  “Yeah, sure,” he hesitates. “You want me to go?”

  Do I? I should. I mean, he could be a murderer or a gang member. I swallow. I should want him to go, but I realize that no, I don’t. In fact, his presence makes me feel…safe, actually. Crazy, I know. But all this thinking about stalkers has me edgy, and the house is very dark. And I’m pretty sure I forgot to lock the back door. “No. You want to come in?” I ask, and wonder if my dad would freak. But he won’t be home for a while. Now that Mom is eating, he eats with
her every night.

  “Sure.”

  I flip on lights as we walk in, my eyes scanning the familiar shadows. I suppress a small shiver. I’m suddenly really glad Luke is here. I hear his quiet steps behind me, so light for such large shoes. “You want something to eat?” I ask and head toward the kitchen.

  “No, thanks. Already ate.” I notice it’s 8:30. “But you go ahead,” he says and leans against the counter next to me.

  I pop a frozen dinner into the microwave and pour myself some milk, all the while very aware that he’s watching me. I almost drop my glass and set it carefully on the counter. “Do Taylin and Matt know you’re here?” I ask and look up.

  “No, else they’d probably be swinging in here ninja style.” He smiles.

  “What do they care?” I wonder out loud.

  “They’re a little over-the-top protective.” He shakes his head, making his gorgeous hair flop haphazardly around his strong chin. “‘Territorial’ is a better word.”

  “Okay,” I say as I stir my nuked rigatoni, even though I don’t get that at all. I blow on a noodle and pop it in my mouth. It goes down without me even tasting it. “I can see Taylin liking you, even if she is your cousin. But Matt…” I let the unspoken question hang there with my eyebrows raised.

  Luke grins. “I guess they’re afraid I’ll get into trouble here.”

  “Trouble? Here in Summit? There’s not much trouble here,” I downplay the idea, unwilling to divulge the possibility of secret stalkers in the neighborhood. “Do they think I’m going to get you into trouble?”

  Luke leans in a bit to sniff my dinner. Would he notice if I ran my fingers through his hair?

  “Is that good?” he asks, and I take a little step back.

  “Uh, yeah, it’s not bad.” Hey, he totally didn’t answer my question. And then it hits me. “They think I’m going to get you into trouble?” I’d only been kidding before. “Do you get into trouble easily?”

  “Mind if I get some water?” He heads to the cupboard where I’d pulled a glass down. “Fridge or tap?”