by Collin Earl
“You know, as public an entity as he is,” said Monson skimming the rest of the article contemplatively, “you’d think that Damion’s love life or at least some of his private life would’ve been mentioned.”
Monson turned and looked at Casey and Artorius. “Can there be so little out there about him? A discussion of his early career shouldn’t be difficult to find. Is that the best she could do, really?”
“It’s one more of those mysteries about Damion,” Artorius answered. “He’s an incredibly private person. He doesn’t hang out with anyone from the football team or even the cheerleaders, and he lives in the private dorms. Sure, he has admirers, but no one he really considers a close friend. It’s been that way since it happened.”
“I hate it when you do that,” groaned Casey. “Don’t say things for drama’s sake. If you know something, share already.”
Artorius glowered. “You’re one to talk, Mr. I-think-that-life-would-be-more-interesting-if-it-was-supported-by-a-laugh-track.”
Casey shrugged. “I get bored.”
Artorius continued, sour-faced. “The love life thing appears to be a sore spot and has transitioned into a life aloof from the general population. The non-superstar type, if you will. From what I understand, before Damion became the Diamond and the star we all know and love, he was a total nonentity in the school.”
“I think we caught that, Arthur.” Casey pointed at himself and Monson. “We did just read the same article you did.”
“Let me finish. Yes, you know he was a nonentity. What you don’t know is that while he was sort of anonymous, he did have a couple of really close friends. Rumor has it he was dating one of them.”
“How on earth could you possibly know that?” asked Monson, curious. It didn’t seem like a piece of information that Artorius should just have. “The story maintains that he hasn’t dated anyone seriously, ever. Who told you this?”
“Indigo.”
Monson did not have an answer for that.
“What a gossip,” said Casey. “And did she tell you anything helpful?”
“She told me that Damion was really reserved and quiet back then.”
Monson raised his hand. “Um…how exactly is that any different from now?”
“He was quiet then. Now he’s stoic.”
Casey and Monson looked at each other.
“I’m pretty sure those mean the same thing, Numbnuts.”
Monson scratched at his head. “I’m with Casey. What the heck does that mean?”
Artorius continued speaking over the interruption. “He puts on his public face. He’s trying to come across as a role model. Back before he became the Diamond, he was just trying to hide in plain sight.”
“Now you’re just making up stuff,” said Monson.
“We already like you, Arthur, you don’t have to make up stuff to sound interesting. And really, it’s not like it helps; you’re still just as boring.”
Again Artorius glowered. “You two want me to finish this?”
“I think I’m good, how about you, Monson?”
“I was getting hungry anyway.”
Monson went to get up but Artorius blurted out, “They were like us. Damion’s group of friends—they were a trio. But here’s the kicker. This trio consisted of Damion and two chicks.”
Monson yawned. “The plot just re-thickened, but what—” Monson stopped as he caught sight of Casey. “Casey, are you OK?”
A serious, borderline-concerned expression had appeared on Casey’s face. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just….”
“What is it, Case?” asked Artorius.
“It’s just that…well—it’s just…I’m not sure how I feel about Arthur referring to us as a trio.”
Monson punched Casey in the arm. “Idiot.”
“Ouch dude, uncool. This is serious stuff. Do we really want to be referred to as a trio?”
“I’m not having this conversation with you. What else could they call us?” shot back Monson, dismissing him. “Artorius, you were saying.”
Artorius raised his chin. “He’s got you there, Case. Anyway, rumor has it that Damion was really close with one of the girls until they had some sort of falling out. Apparently at the time it was all over the news.”
Monson sneered. “News coverage for a failed high school relationship? Oh yeah, call the papers immediately!”
Casey laughed. “Grey, a little tip for future belligerent behavior—your mode of delivery is totally dated. No one reads newspapers anymore.”
“And really, it was unnecessary because it wasn’t the failed relationship they called ‘the papers’ for. It was because one of the girls disappeared.”
Monson’s eyes bulged a little in surprise. “Now that’s heavy,” he remarked.
“Totally,” agreed Casey.
“There are stories all over the net. I did some digging after Indigo told me about it.”
Casey stretched his arms. “You did some digging…on Damion? Why exactly?”
Artorius looked scandalized. “Need you even ask?”
Monson and Casey started at him blankly.
“It will be a wonder if you guys ever find yourselves girls.”
“Says the creepy borderline stalker.”
“Shut up, Casey.”
“Artorius!” yelled Monson, exasperated. “Finish your story before I’m too old to care.”
Artorius glared at both of them. “First, Casey, I had to get to know Damion because he’s going to be my biggest rival to Indigo. If that wasn’t obvious.”
“Second, you probably don’t know this, Monson, but Coren Valley is filled with secrets, myths, urban legends and the like. Activities here aren’t what you’d call extensive, so back in the day the students would spend a lot of their free time exploring the woods searching for some of those legends: The Garden of the Gods, the Den of the Midday Darkness—”
“Garden of the Gods? Den of the Midday Darkness? What is—”
Casey put a hand up. “Let it go, Grey, or we’ll be here so long we’ll become legendary. Besides, I think I can pick up the story from here.”
Artorius reacted with surprise to Casey’s remark. “How can you know the rest of the story?”
“Easy. I know the girl who disappeared. Though truthfully, I was totally unaware of all the trio stuff you were talking about.”
Silence fell. It was not awkward, merely shocked, like the feeling of jumping in freezing cold water. Monson found his voice. “Casey, you know her?”
Casey smiled a rather sad smile. “Well, knew her. I never thought she’d come up in casual conversation though. Her name was Sage. She was Kylie Coremack’s sister.”
Chapter 22- Beaten with an Ugly Stick
“Kylie’s sister was the one who disappeared?” blurted Artorius. “Indigo will love—”
“And she was a friend of Damion’s?” questioned Monson in awe. “That’s a trauma two-fer.”
“You are absolutely forbidden to discuss this with Indigo, Arthur.” Casey’s outburst of words was angry. It made Artorius recoil. Casey took a deep breath before speaking again. “Sorry about that, dude. That was a rough time for my little circle.”
Artorius nodded. “I won’t say anything. You have my word.”
“You know, I can’t stand that saying—have my word. What does it really mean?” Monson leaned back and studied the ceiling. “Giving your word, you have my word. No, it’s just ridiculous, I tell you.”
“No one knows what happened to Sage,” Casey continued. “They spent the summer looking for her. Nothing ever turned up. They think she was eaten by a bear.”
Monson cringed. Not the most peaceful of deaths.
“It was really hard on both of our families. Sage was a free spirit. She helped everyone relax.”
“Was she pretty?” asked Artorius.
“Arthur! We’re talking about one of Casey’s friends who was eaten by a bear!” shouted Monson.
“It’s fine, Grey, and don’t pretend
you aren’t dying to know.” Casey answered carefully. “Let’s just say that she had a sweet spirit.”
Artorius snapped his fingers. “So she was beaten by the ugly stick.”
Monson was scandalized. “Arthur! That’s horrible.”
Artorius smiled. “At least you can sympathize.”
“I really should punch you.”
Artorius ran a hand through his hair. “But you won’t, you’re far too nice for that.”
The boy’s second round of laugher was interrupted, as for the second time that evening, there was a knock at Monson’s door.
All three sat up. Monson looked towards the other two. “Who do you think that could be?”
Casey shrugged. “No idea. The only two friends you have are sitting right here.”
Monson nodded his agreement. He called for Brian. “Brian, are you there?”
No response.
Monson stood and moved to the door, the other two in tow.
“Grey, you got any food in this joint?” Artorius grumbled, “I’m starving.”
“Yeah, just check around,” said Monson, opening the door, “I’m sure there is—”
His voice trailed off as he met the eyes of the person standing in the doorway.
“Kylie…what’re you doing here?”
Kylie Coremack stood in the doorway wide-eyed and a bit defiant.
Monson repeated his question.
“Kylie, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be resting?”
Kylie waved the question away. “I’m fine…I’ve just been a bit overworked lately.”
“Yeah, mind control powers will do that. I bet you’re a crazy poker player.”
Monson lurched forward as a pillow hit him in the back of his head. He jerked around to see Casey looking at him angrily.
“What was that, Grey?”
“Nothing.” Monson about-faced. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m OK,” answered Kylie curtly. “But I don’t need you worrying about me. I can take care of myself just fine.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Point taken. The next time you’re retching half-dead on the ground, I’ll make sure to mind my own business.”
Kylie simply stared at him. Apparently, she was not well versed in sarcasm.
He rearranged his face with the intention of making himself look comical. “Well…I’d invite you in but I doubt you’d take me up on it, and besides…” Monson gave Casey a meaningful look. “I’m rather fond of this furniture. I would like to keep it intact.”
Monson dodged a second pillow thrown his way. It sailed past him towards Kylie, who sidestepped it gracefully. Casey appeared to be out of pillows, as he stopped after that.
“So to recap, you don’t want me to worry about you, but that’s probably not why you’re here,” stated Monson as if nothing had happened. “So, why don’t you let me know why you are here.”
Kylie nodded and gave Monson a weird look. The expression on her face suggested that she was experiencing some sort of internal struggle. Finally, she raised her hand, proffering something to Monson.
“Here, I think this makes us even.”
She dangled a white piece of paper in her hand.
Monson turned and gave Artorius the slightest of glances, which conveyed his concern.
What do I do?
Artorius remained silent, but tipped his head almost imperceptibly.
Take it!
“Umm…thanks Kylie, but you really didn’t need to give me anything.”
“No, it’s better this way. I owe you and this should make us even.”
She shook her hand, indicating that he should take the paper. Monson did so, but met resistance from Kylie.
“Before I give this to you, you have to promise me that you’ll burn the paper after you use it, and won’t share the contents with another soul.”
He gave her an uncertain look. “Why, is it dangerous?”
“You’ll understand after you’ve opened it. Do I have your word?”
“Of course. You have my word,” he replied, suppressing a smile as he remembered his earlier rant. He removed the paper from Kylie’s grasp. There was silence as he partly unfolded it.
303-555-6767
“What’s this?” he asked in a voice dripping with relief. “It looks like a telephone number.”
“Exactly.” She was acting like she had just bestowed the most valuable gift in the world upon him.
“But whose number—oh…” His eyes widened as he slowly looked up at her.
She flushed, and for the briefest of moments Monson thought she looked adorable—not a word he had ever associated with Kylie Coremack. But she quickly recovered and said, “No, it’s not mine. Just read it.”
He finished unfolding the paper to see five words written in small slanted letters.
Cyann Harrison
You are welcome.
His words came spilling out. “Wait, wait, wait a minute! Why on earth would I want Cyann’s number?”
Kylie laughed. “You’re a guy, aren’t you?”
Monson glared at her indignantly. “Of course, want me to prove it?”
Her face lit up like a stoplight. “That won’t be necessary. Anyway, if you are a guy then why wouldn’t you want Cyann’s number?”
“That’s not the point. Isn’t this a little presumptuous? Why would you do that to Cyann?”
Kylie’s mouth slackened a bit. Monson took this to mean she was confused.
“Kylie, hello?” His voice almost drowned in his own exasperation. “I have the face of a corpse! I’m like the walking dead. I don’t have any business calling a girl like that.”
Kylie’s bottom lip dropped even further before starting to curl. “You have the face of a corpse? Why would that stop you from calling Cyann? You talk to Taris quite a bit, don’t you?
“It’s different with Taris. I—”
“I don’t see any difference.” She shook her mantle of blonde hair. “It’s never seemed to bother you before.”
It’s never bothered me before? thought Monson. As if I had a choice. He answered wryly. “This isn’t about me, Kylie. It’s about Cyann.”
Monson gave her a baffled look. Her face changed as a genuine smile crept upon it. Remembering that first day of school, he noted to himself that he had been right. She was prettier without the sneer.
“You’re a lot more innocent than I thought, Grey. You may actually be pure of heart; maybe one of the few there is left.” She cocked her head back. “What a completely cheesy idea.”
“I’m not sure I’m following you, Kylie.”
“Never mind,” she replied. “I can just see why he’s friends with you, that’s all.”
Before Monson could say anything, she started down the hall, stopping after about five feet.
“No one, Grey.”
She gave Monson a serious look.
“No one can see that number but you. Not Arthur…and not Case—Cassius.”
Kylie turned to go and Monson stepped back to shut his door when she called out to him.
“Oh, Grey…one more thing.”
Monson popped his head out to see her.
“Yeah Kylie?”
“Don’t ever talk to me again.”
She left as Monson’s jaw dropped.
Gathering himself, he closed his door. He turned to speak to Artorius and was startled to find Casey right behind him.
“Whoa, Casey.” Monson took a step back. “Give me a little space.”
“What’d she give you?” His voice sounded a bit angry.
Monson gave him a malicious grin. He raised his arms and put them behind his head. “A love letter. Ahh…being popular is so tough.”
“Grey, don’t make me hit you again.”
Monson chuckled slightly. “All right, all right, no need to get violent.”
Monson quickly relayed the subtle details of the conversation with Kylie that the other two had missed.
The blood drained quick
ly from Casey’s face as Monson held up the paper.
“Holy crap!” Casey whistled and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t believe she did that.”
“I know, right?” agreed Monson. “Weird. What a strange way to thank someone.”
“Do what she says, Grey,” said Casey abruptly. “Do it now.”
Monson’s face reflected his confusion. “Do what Casey? What are you talking about?”
Casey rolled his eyes, obviously annoyed by what Monson did not understand. He suddenly turned and walked towards Monson’s room. Seconds later he came back with Monson’s phone in hand.
“Casey, what are you doing with my phone?”
Casey clicked furiously for several seconds and then tossed Monson’s phone to him. “Here,” he said. “Put Cyann’s number in.”
Monson did so, too bewildered to argue. He typed in the numbers on the pad and saved the contact. As he finished, Casey gestured to him to throw the phone back.
“I’m putting a lock on your phone.” He started clicking again. “From now on when you want to use it, you’ll have to put in this code.”
He showed Monson a six-digit code.
“That way no one else can get into your phone. You need to let people know that it’s coded. As a matter of fact, it might not be a bad idea to just leave it up here if you aren’t positive that you’ll need it.”
“Hold on, Case,” said Monson “you aren’t making any sense. Why would I leave my phone here and why does it need a code?”
Casey gave Monson a flabbergasted look. “You know Grey, for someone who is so smart, you can be a real idiot sometimes.”
“What’d I say?”
Artorius cut in. “Now, now, Casey. That’s a bit harsh. Allow me.”
Artorius turned his attention towards Monson.
“Grey, where do we go to school?”
“Coren University, but what does that have to do with anything?”
Artorius put up a hand as if to say, Wait. He continued.
“And what is the one thing that most of the students at Coren have in common?”
Monson’s scratched his head in confusion. “Adolescence?”
Artorius laughed. “No, Grey—money! Most of the students here are really wealthy.”
