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Timeless (Book One: Caylin's Story; A Watcher Duology; Young Adult Paranormal Romance)

Page 4

by S. J. West


  “Good morning,” Uncle Malcolm says to us all as he closes the door behind him.

  We all say good morning and Mae holds her arms out to him. My dad hands Mae over to Uncle Malcolm as he walks over to get her.

  She kisses him on the cheek and wraps her arms around his neck.

  “And how is my girl this morning?” Uncle Malcolm says, rubbing a hand up and down her back.

  Mae pulls back and looks at him. “I dream about a rainbow slide last night, Uncle Malcolm.”

  Uncle Malcolm grins at her with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Did you now? Well, guess we'll have to see what we can do about that.” He looks over at my mom. “Does Will have any chores he needs to do this afternoon?”

  My mother's eyes narrow on my uncle. “Nothing urgent, why?”

  “I need his help preparing for my class. I have to go get some supplies after school today.”

  “That's fine, as long as he's back home for supper.”

  “Help...me,” I hear Will whisper to me from his side of the table.

  I look over at him. “Why? What do you think he's going to make you do?”

  “I don't know,” he whispers back. “But it can't be good. Please, help me, KK.”

  I shrug. “How?”

  Uncle Malcolm walks over to the table with Mae still in his arms and sits her down in her seat next to me so she can finish her breakfast.

  “Come along, Will,” Uncle Malcolm says to my little brother after he kisses Mae on the top of her head. “It doesn't look like you're too interested in eating your breakfast anyway. We can get to school early and you can help me set up for class.”

  Will looks at me with the desperate look of a trapped animal, but I just shrug not seeing that there's anything I can do for him.

  Will grudgingly accepts his fate and stands from the table, grabbing his backpack from beside his chair and following Uncle Malcolm like a whipped pup out the door.

  “What's up with Will?” Leah whispers to me.

  “Sex ed class starts today,” I whisper back.

  Leah giggles. “At least you dodged that bullet. I can only imagine what advice your uncle would have given you in that class.”

  I silently agree with Leah. I did indeed dodge a bullet.

  Even though the Corvette's top speed is still only 55mph, I enjoy the freedom of knowing it's all mine. My parents never say too much about where I go in it, and they seem to trust me to come home at a decent hour on the rare occasion I just go driving to clear my mind. I think they know I feel constricted by their rules on my life and allow me my driving time to have a bit of freedom, even if it isn't exactly real.

  “JoJo asked me to remind you about our fitting tomorrow after school,” Leah says to me as I pull up into the student parking lot at our school.

  “Ok, let her know I'll phase us to her studio at around three our time.”

  “Will do.”

  I park in my usual spot and notice my stalker leaned up against the side of his shiny new yellow Camaro.

  “That boy just doesn’t know when to give up,” Leah says with a shake of her head. “How many times has he asked you out now?”

  “I've stopped counting,” I admit with a sigh. “A couple of hundred at least.”

  “Pretty much since you turned sixteen I think.”

  I look over at Leah. “You know what's funny?”

  “What?”

  “I probably would have said yes the first time he asked if I didn't know Aiden existed.”

  Leah looks at me sympathetically. “Would it have been better if you had never seen him that night at the concert?”

  I seriously think about the question but immediately know in my heart what the answer is.

  “No,” I tell her. “No, it wouldn't have been better. I think I would have always known something was missing from my life. At least this way I know he exists even if I can't be with him.”

  “It won't be much longer,” Leah tells me in a consoling voice.

  “One hundred and seventy-six days.”

  Leah smiles. “So the countdown has begun?”

  “It started the day you told me about my parents’ rule, Leah. I've known the exact number of days since then.”

  I get out of my car and reach into the cubbyhole behind the seat to grab my backpack.

  “Good morning, Cole,” my daily school welcoming party of one says.

  I close my door and turn to find the most popular boy in school smiling at me. His blonde hair is neatly cut and his blue eyes sparkle as he looks at me. He's the boy next door almost every parent would want to see their daughter date: straight A student, class president, and captain of the football team. As I look at him, I wonder if my parents would have approved of every girl's high school crush dating their daughter. Would they have welcomed him into our home with open arms or placed the same restrictions on him as they did on Aiden? I have a sneaking suspicion the same rules wouldn't have applied to an ordinary human boy.

  “Morning, Hunter,” I say, closing my car door to face my classmate.

  Hunter gives me his million-dollar smile. “So, when are you going to say you'll go to the Valentine's Day dance with me, Cole?”

  “Uh, never,” I say, as if the answer should be obvious. “Just because you ask me five times a day doesn't mean the answer will change.”

  “Come on,” he says, still smiling, “I know you're not going with anyone. Why not go with me? We could just go as friends.”

  I cock my head as I look at him. “And what exactly would your girlfriend say about that? Or do you think Monica simply won't care her boyfriend is taking someone else to the most romantic dance of the year?”

  “Monica's just with me because I'm captain of the football team,” Hunter says with an accepting shrug. “She doesn't really care about me.”

  “Then why don't you find someone else who will care about you?”

  Hunter's smile widens. “I'm trying, Cole. I've been trying for the last year and a half.”

  I feel myself blush. “I'm not the one for you, Hunter. Trust me on that.”

  I start to walk past him with Leah coming up on my right side and Hunter taking up the space to my left.

  “So will any of us ever get to meet this mystery man of yours?” Hunter asks me. “I’m assuming there has to be someone else since you keep shutting me down. Is he taking you to the dance on Friday?”

  “He can't,” I say, feeling an emptiness inside my heart because there's nothing more that I would want than for Aiden to take me to the Valentine's Day dance.

  “Then let me take you,” Hunter says. “Come on, Cole. It's our senior year. Live it up a little.”

  “The answer is no, Hunter. Stop asking.”

  I hear Hunter sigh as he falls back from us giving up for the moment.

  “He is persistent,” Leah says beside me. “I'll give him that much.”

  “But just not the right guy,” I tell her as I pull on the handle of the heavy wood door leading into the hallway of our school.

  The day passes by uneventfully, same old classes, same old people. I find myself making a quick sketch of Aiden's eyes in the back of my notebook while our American History teacher drones on about the politics behind the Civil War. All of my classes are AP level but none of them holds an ounce of challenge for me. All I have to do is read something and know it for the rest of my life, one of the many gifts my parents passed down to me. I guess that's why art has always held my interest more than anything else has. You can't memorize it. You have to tap into your emotions and be willing to let them out in physical form for others to see.

  I’ve already been accepted into the art program at Yale for this coming Fall semester and really don't see the need to keep coming to school. When I was sixteen, I asked my parents if I could just take the GED and be done with it, but they wouldn't let me. They said high school was a rite of passage for every teenager, and that they wanted me to experience life to the fullest. Yet, I was never really able
to do that, not with my family. How could I have human friends over from my school and explain little Mae phasing all over the house? Nope. Normal friends were out of the question.

  When Leah came into my life, she was like a birthday and Christmas gift all wrapped up into one wonderful person. Finally, I had someone close to my age who understood my life. Someone I didn’t have to hide things from. During the past few years, she was one of the few people I could turn to when I needed a shoulder to cry on about Aiden. I couldn’t exactly go to my parents with my heartache since they were the ones who laid down the eighteen-year-old or nothing rule to Aiden in the first place. And I loved my parents. I loved them so much I didn’t share the pain I was in, at least not on purpose. I knew they were doing what they thought was right even though it felt all kinds of wrong to me. I trusted them to know what was appropriate because I knew they loved us kids more than any other people in the world and only wanted the best for all of us.

  At lunchtime, I meet up with Leah in the cafeteria. Since she is a year behind me, we don’t have any classes together. Lunch is the only time we get to spend with one another at school. I find Linc, Aunt Tara’s twelve-year-old son, sitting beside her.

  “Have you guys seen Will yet?” I ask, as I sit down at our regular table with my lunch tray.

  Leah shakes her head as she picks up her slice of pepperoni pizza from her plate, her favorite food in the world.

  “No, he hasn’t made it in here yet. Why do you ask?”

  “I’m just curious to know if he survived his first day of sex ed class with Uncle Malcolm.”

  “I know he was dreading it,” Linc says.

  Leah giggles. “Do you think your uncle would be that rough on him?”

  I shrug. “It’s Uncle Malcolm. What do you think?”

  “I think Will is probably a dead man,” Linc says with certainty.

  Just then, I see Will walk into the cafeteria. He looks shell shocked with eyes wide and a completely blank expression on his face. He slowly makes his way to our table and sits down heavily in the empty chair between Linc and me.

  “Dude, are you ok?” Linc asks him.

  As if just realizing we’re there, Will turns his head and begins to shake it slowly.

  “I’m never having sex,” he declares.

  His statement is made with such conviction I can’t help but laugh.

  “And why is that?” I ask, assuming he’s over exaggerating.

  Will leans forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  “Do you know what kind of diseases you can get?” He asks in a whisper. “I don’t want,” Will looks around to make sure no one but us is within earshot before saying, “my thing to rot off.”

  “What?” I exclaim, drawing the unwanted attention of a few people close to our table.

  “Dude, tell me you’re lying,” Linc whispers back urgently.

  “It wasn’t something he said to the class,” Will continues to whisper, “but Uncle Malcolm told me this morning on the way to school that you have to be careful about that kind of thing happening.”

  “I think he was just pulling your leg, Will,” I tell my little brother.

  Will shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He seemed pretty convincing to me.”

  It’s then I decide to have a little talk with my Uncle Malcolm before my class with him.

  Right after lunch, I seek him out and find him writing something on the blackboard in his classroom.

  “What on earth were you thinking telling Will his penis is going to fall off if he has sex?” I ask Uncle Malcolm.

  Uncle Malcolm looks over at me and tilts his head down so his eyes are peering at me over the frames of his glasses.

  “I was thinking that a boy his age needs to keep it in his pants. Have you seen some of the girls around here fawning over him already? Even some of the upper class females have shown an interest.”

  “But you lied to him!”

  “Not really,” Uncle Malcolm says, dropping the chalk he’s holding back into the tray at the bottom of the board and turning to face me with his hands on his hips. “It could happen. In fact, I’ve seen it happen.”

  “What… back in the middle ages in some leper colony?” I scoff.

  Uncle Malcolm shrugs. “Does it matter what century?”

  “I know you love us,” I say, trying to hold my temper. “But please, tell Will you were joking. Otherwise, he’s going to be paranoid for the rest of his life that his little Will is going to rot off if he even touches a girl.”

  Uncle Malcolm sighs and rolls his eyes. “Oh, all right. I’ll tell him it only happens rarely.”

  I just shake my head at my uncle unable to say anything else because some of my classmates begin to fill the room for our lesson.

  “Sit down my little minions,” Uncle Malcolm says to the class. “I plan to expand your little human minds today with some poetry you may or may not understand. Expect a pop quiz at the end of class because I know some of you won't pay attention otherwise.”

  I take my regular seat and Hunter slips into his right beside me.

  He sighs heavily as if his world is ending, which makes me look over at him involuntarily.

  “See?” He says to me with a knowing grin. “You care, Cole. Admit it.”

  “Even if I did, I wouldn't admit it to you,” I say, opening my notebook hoping he gets the hint.

  Hunter clutches at his heart dramatically. “You're harsh, Cole. You wound me to the core every time with your cruel words.”

  I just roll my eyes at him. “I'm sure your core will survive a few words from me.”

  “No,” Hunter says with a grimace, “I think the only word that will heal it is 'yes'. Come on, Caylin, go to the dance with me.”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  Hunter clutches at his chest even harder and acts like he's about to die. I force myself not to laugh even though I want to.

  “Are you having a seizure, Mr. Manning?” Uncle Malcolm asks Hunter from the front of the classroom, peering at him disapprovingly over the rims of his glasses.

  Hunter sits up straight in his seat. “No, Mr. Devereaux.”

  “Then kindly refrain from acting like a complete imbecile in my class.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I can't help but smirk a little bit, at least until I look up and see Uncle Malcolm looking at me with eyebrows raised. I sit a little straighter in my seat too.

  “Now that Mr. Manning has stopped flirting with my niece,” Uncle Malcolm says, making me cringe and Hunter shift nervously in his seat, “who can name something Percy Shelly wrote?”

  A girl in the front of the class by the name of Keri waves her hand in the air to gain Uncle Malcolm's attention.

  Uncle Malcolm pointedly doesn't look in her direction, and I laugh on the inside. Poor Keri has had a crush on my uncle from the first day he started teaching. She is someone who reads everything she can before class just so she can raise her hand and answer any question Uncle Malcolm asks us. It's obvious she wants to be his favorite student and is doing her best to attain that status.

  Since no one else raises their hand, Uncle Malcolm cautiously looks in Keri's direction.

  “Yes, Keri?” He says to her.

  “He was a romantic poet. His most famous poems include “Ode to the West Wind”, “Ozymandias”, and “Adonais”. He was also an atheist,” Keri whispers, like just saying the word is a sin.

  “Very good, Keri,” Uncle Malcolm says, “at least one of you heathens read the assignment.”

  I notice Uncle Malcolm glance in my direction. He knows I read the assignment. I just don't volunteer answers in

  class, which seems to frustrate him for some reason. I know I'm smart. I don't see any reason to parade it around. I have the highest grade point average in the history of the school. And barring some sort of mishap I will be Valedictorian of my class.

  Uncle Malcolm goes over things I've already read about Shelly in our assignment, and I sort of tune hi
m out, returning to my drawing of Aiden's eyes in the back of my notebook. It's not until he begins to recite “To a Skylark” that he regains my full attention. I notice every girl in the room is leaning forward in their seats as Uncle Malcolm sits on the corner of his desk while holding his glasses in one hand and the book he's reading from in the other.

  The poem is about a skylark's song, and how it enraptures the speaker with its Heavenly music, representing the pureness of nature. It's not so much the words to the poem that draw my attention but the way Uncle Malcolm recites them. By the end of the poem, every girl in the classroom is practically melting in her seat.

  Uncle Malcolm snaps the book shut causing almost everyone in the class to jump.

  “Pop quiz time!” He announces.

  He passes out the quiz, and I answer the questions easily, being the first one to hand mine back in.

  “And what are your plans for the afternoon?” Uncle Malcolm asks me before I leave the classroom.

  “I have to wait for Leah to get through with her swim practice, so I'll probably just go out into the yard and sketch some.”

  “Be careful,” he tells me, as he always does.

  Since my fifteenth birthday, it's been as though Uncle Malcolm expects something bad to happen at any moment. I've given up worrying about what that something is supposed to be though. I know my folks will tell me when the time is right, or when they have no other choice, whichever comes first.

  Once outside, I veer off towards my favorite hiding spot at school, a mighty oak tree at the top of a hill right behind the back courtyard. It’s the perfect spot to people watch, something I used to do a lot of before Aiden came into my life. I used to sketch my classmates as they milled about the courtyard below me, envying their ignorance of the world around them.

 

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