by A. B. Bloom
"You will be." He smiled.
"Don't you put me to sleep again," I warned.
"Just relax, Bron." With his words, a hazy pull made my body feel heavy. "Oh, Bron?”
"Yeah?" I fought through the wave of sleep, back up to the surface of consciousness.
"My name's Nick."
"Nick," I mumbled, and it was the last thought I had.
"It's her." Nick kept his voice level, although he knew it wouldn’t disguise his feelings—even down the phone. A burning fire was consuming him from the inside out, eating him alive. It burned where he stood.
"I knew it would be." He knew the voice was smiling and he wanted to punch it.
"Are you coming?" He knew the answer before he spoke the question.
"Yes. We'll be there in two days, there abouts." A short pause of silence filled the air. "You need to keep your distance. Just keep her safe, but don't get too close, you can't bring any attention to her, or sway her at all."
"I know," Nick snapped, although he knew it was too late. He'd already got too close. For sixteen years, he'd been waiting for this. Now knowing he had to stay away from her was gnawing at him, crippling him with a wound that made his soul ache.
"I'm sorry." The caller sounded genuine.
"Yeah. I know." Nick sighed. "I'm tired." So damn tired. He wanted this to be over but he knew he had to find the energy to protect her so she could fulfil her destiny.
Again, he wondered why it had to be her? But then maybe if it wasn't her, she would be dead already. And where would that get him?
"Any sign of the hunter?" The caller asked.
"Not yet. Maybe she's fooled him, too." Nick knew he was being optimistic.
"We can't count on that. You must to be vigilant. At all times."
"I know what I need to be." Nick's breath came bursts.
"Okay. Okay. We'll be there soon."
"Fine."
"Nick. Don't let your feelings get in the way."
"I won't. I know my job."
"Good. Keep an eye out for us."
"Sure."
Nick jabbed at the phone with his finger, disconnecting the call, and stretched his neck. He pulled the cap off his head and ran a hand through his hair. It felt good to be free of the damn thing. With a deep exhalation he turned and spun his legs back into her room. He'd been sitting on this windowsill for days. At least now she knew he was there.
She felt it too, he knew she did. He did not understand how they would fight destiny.
Tomorrow he would have to try harder.
Tomorrow he would have to try harder to keep his distance from her. When she came to make her decision, anything she felt for him couldn't matter at all.
"There's a new kiiiiiiid!" Lauren's voice broke the sound barrier. She chased to grab hold of me, as I walked through the gates, her hand catching my sleeve and swinging me around. I felt rested for the first time in months. It was ironic that I'd slept so well considering last night everything I knew had changed forever. When I'd woken, he hadn't been there. I'd taken a moment in the still darkness to contemplate what I'd learned. But my brain wasn't in the mood to dissect the events of the previous day, so I'd ended up rolling out of bed. I knew he'd be around today. I was under no false apprehension that he wouldn't take his bodyguard detail seriously.
That he was only hanging around to fulfill bodyguard duties was irritating me more than it should.
"Really?" I asked her, hoping my tone sounded excited enough. Not telling Lauren the truth would be uncomfortable.
Her arm linked through my elbow. "Bron. He's so hot he's painful to look at."
"Really?" I repeated, for lack of having anything else available to say.
"Oh god, yes." Lauren was about to explode with excitement. "He's a transfer from London, his brother and sisters will be here in a few days when they come up with their parents. He came early so he didn't miss too much school." The words tumbled from her mouth in giddy excitement.
Laughing, I said, "How do you know all of this already?"
She bit on her bottom lip and raised her shoulders to her ears. "I may have followed him into the office and eavesdropped."
"Lauren! That's scandalous." I held my hands to my mouth in faux shock. She'd done far worse before. "I'm surprised you didn't follow him into the boys lavatory."
Lauren flushed. "Hey, that was just once." She gave a giggle. "Yeah, well when you see him, you'll understand why."
I nodded. I already knew why. "Sure, well I'll see him when I see him, I guess."
"He's doing English."
"Is there anything you haven't found out?"
Lauren thought about this for a moment. "Nope. I don't think so."
"Well, that's all right then, I'm sure he's appreciating his privacy." I nudged her with my shoulder.
"Oh," she'd thought of something, "I don't know what colour his eyes are, he's wearing a cap."
Violet like fields of heather, I nearly blurted, but I bit my tongue and clamped the words down. "A cap? At school?" I'd be interested to see how he planned to get around the No Hats rule, but I suspected he would find a way. "Come on, let’s gets to class." I could do without being late again. It would also be beneficial to attend some full classes.
"Shh. There he is." Lauren gave a discreet squeal and pointed my attention across the grass. A tall boy, dressed in black, with a cap pulled low over his eyes, walked across the opposite side of the path. A lesson schedule flapped in his hand. She wouldn't have seen it but I noticed an almost imperceptible turn of his head towards us. I smiled and bit down on my lower lip.
"Lovely. Let's get to class."
"Lovely, that's all you have to say?" She peered at me, squinting. "Where's my best friend and what have you done with her?"
I laughed. "I'm fine and I'm here. Come on, Lauren, I've missed so much this week already with the migraines and what have you." And following mysterious boys out of the classroom mid lesson. Oh, and also, did you know that my missing father was a star and apparently I'm the last of The Star Children. It just wasn't a conversation I ever expected to have.
"Okay, okay." She flicked her glossy hair over her shoulder and I remembered my scrappy bun. It plopped on top of my head like a broken birds nest. "I'll stalk him later."
"Good luck with that."
"Thanks, stalking is one of my many skills." She gave a broad wink.
"That it is." Smiling, I gave her a little squeeze as we went our separate ways to our form rooms. I held my breath as I walked into the class. A sinking sensation pulled on my stomach when I saw he wasn't already in the room.
Pulling my chair back, I slid into my seat, determined to keep my head down. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Eleanor with her feet up on the desk. I tuned in as she waved her arms around and fanned herself down.
"He's just too gorgeous," she said. There was general cooing in response. "I think I will make a play by lunch time just to stake my claim. Although, let's be honest," she gave a high-pitched giggle. "There is no one else here to be interested. Most of the other girls don't even bother to brush their hair."
My hands clenched into fists knowing that her comments was for my ears. Glancing to my right I saw Paul sitting with his head down at his desk. His expression told me he'd been dropped like a hot potato in the excitement of the new boy arriving. He met my eye and I gave him a small smile and a nod. He nodded back, his face ashen. Poor guy.
The seat next to mine pulled out. "Is this seat available?" The low melodious bells chimed in my ears, and my stomach flipped a full gold-medal-worthy somersault. The whole room went deathly silent.
"Nope."
"Good." He slid into the chair and I found myself acutely aware of the form of his body as he moved close by me. He was tall, which I already knew, but today he seemed bigger, firmer, stronger. I swallowed hard, the pulse in my throat racing and causing me to cough.
"Oh, no," Eleanor's voice pierced the air. "He's had to sit next to Bronte." My cheeks
burned. "Here, you can sit with me," she called across the classroom.
He didn't turn. "I'm fine here, thank you." His voice response was cold and I smiled a little to myself.
She said nothing else, although her under the breath muttering was audible to the whole room.
"Are you okay?" his voice was low and pitched just for me.
"Where were you this morning?" I wasn't planning to say this at all. I would have gone in with a straight "Hi," but my brain decided impertinent questions were the order of the day.
I could feel his smile from under the cap. "I thought you might like a little privacy." His shoulder leant towards mine but it didn't brush against me. I held my breath just in case it did. "You know, to get ready." His voice pitched low, a steady tolling that made my stomach quiver.
My cheeks flamed a whole new level of heat. "Oh." I twiddled with my pen. "Thanks."
"You are welcome."
His words made me chuckle and I tried to keep my laughter silent. "What?" he asked.
"You're so formal. You sound like you should be in an Austen novel."
He leaned closer. "How about a Bronte novel?"
Was he flirting with me? I didn't have time to react before he must have realised he was too close and straightened up. He pulled his chair away from mine. The space between us stretched like a chasm. "Well, I've been around for a long time," he muttered.
"How long?" I turned. My interest in his statement outweighed any concern about being seen talking to the new boy. Before he could answer, Mr Granger, the form tutor, strolled in with the register under his arm.
"Right, kids. Let's make this quick so we can get this day done." Everyone groaned. Everyone apart from Nick, whose expression set his lips into a displeased grim line.
It made me cringe away in my seat. When the bell signalled the start of lessons, he pushed back out of his chair and left without a word.
"Good one, Bronte. You've scared him off already." A hiss echoed in my ear.
"Shut your face, Eleanor." I snapped and then watched as Eleanor's eyes widened at my come back. I'd never spoken back to her before. Our relationship comprised of her being a bitch and me attempting not to make it onto her radar. Her eyes narrowed.
"Don't worry, Bron, I'll show him how welcoming we can be."
My blood seethed, boiling hot in my veins. "Don't want to welcome him by giving him an STD in the first week."
Eleanor gasped, her mouth wide open. I shook my head. Where was this coming from? I knew I'd pay for it. I turned on my heels and walked out the door before she could think of a come back. Nick was nowhere to be seen.
It was lunch when I next saw Lauren. I still hadn't seen Nick. This made me consider he wasn't taking his bodyguard role as seriously as I thought.
"Please, please tell me you didn't scare off the new boy already." She grabbed a red tray and balanced an apple and a bottle of water on it. I picked up my own tray and went for a shrink-wrapped pot of melon. The last thing I wanted to do was eat but I knew I had to put something through at the till. Aaron or mum would check my account for sure. I grabbed a sandwich. I didn't bother looking at the filling, it was heading straight for the bin. I reckoned if I put a piece of dried bread in my mouth I might hurl. My concentration had been at an all time low the entire morning.
"How on earth did you hear about that?" I rolled my eyes.
"I heard Eleanor talking about in double biology. If I was you, I'd watch my back, she's got it in for you today."
I smiled, a grim flash of teeth. "I know."
“Do you have a death wish? What happened to our ‘keep our heads down and survive the day’ motto?"
"Maybe that motto stinks?"
She raised an eyebrow and threw a kitkat onto her tray. Lauren clearly wasn't having a problem with her own appetite. She glanced at my tray. "Is that all you're having?"
"Yeah," I chewed my bottom lip. "I'm still feeling icky after the migraine."
"Here, put some of mine through on your card so your mum doesn't moan."
This was the very reason we were best friends. "Thanks." I snagged the plate of lasagne and balanced it along with the melon.
We paid and I was turning to tell her the disgusting, congealed, lasagne had cost me three quid when a bump collided with my back. The hard shove knocked me forward and I bounced into Lauren.
I should have dropped the tray.
Instead of dropping the tray I allowed it to slide down my front. I watched it as it journeyed to the floor in slow motion. Oily tomato and mince streaked down the front of my pale blue jersey. My white converse held giant dollops of mince.
"Oh. Crap." Lauren muttered. I turned and looked at the person behind me. Eleanor.
"Oops. I didn't see you there," she said. "Bronte, didn't anyone teach you to eat your food, not wear it?" She peeled off an ear splitting ring of laughter and the entire dinner hall sat in silence watching us. Out of the corner of my eye, I could sense a flash of black. My head pounded, my fingers shook. I balled them into fists ready to connect with Eleanor's face no matter how many fingers I broke.
Lauren gasped. "Bron, your nose."
A drop of warmth slid down my top lip and I dabbed my hand to it, pulling it away to find a smear of bright red blood.
Eleanor sneered, her top lip curling. "Gosh, Bron. You really are falling apart at the seams." She recoiled from my blood like I had the plague, leaving me a shaking mess covered in blood and stewed meat.
"Crap." Lauren repeated. "Come on, babe, let's go and get you cleaned up.
I shoved the empty plastic tray I was still holding at her. "Just leave me alone." I snapped. Her face flashed with hurt, but I couldn't bring myself to stop. I just ran for the door, the sound of shocked silence echoing behind me.
In the bathroom I gagged into the sink. Glancing up into the cracked mirror, I found fresh blood dripping from my nose. I was getting weaker. I knew it, I could feel it deep inside. Grabbing tissues, I dabbed at the blood trying to stem the flow. How could Nick think I was like him? He could manipulate what others saw, he could read thoughts, he could pull away every time he got too close. Tears burned my eyelids. I was nothing like him. In fact, I was the polar opposite.
"Are you okay?" His voice called through the door.
"Peachy, thanks." I dabbed at more blood. It looked like it was slowing down.
"Can I come in?"
"It's the ladies."
"Is there anyone else in there?" he called back. I could have lied but he probably would have been able to pick it up from my thoughts. Instead, I went for silence.
He accepted my lack of response as an invitation to enter. Creeping around the door, he shut it firmly and then placed his hand on the scored surface. A faint glimmer of light pulsed from his palm on the wood.
"What are you doing?"
He turned and yanked off his cap. It seemed unfair that he looked so insanely gorgeous while I wore a cloak of lasagne and blood. His black hair stood at insane angles. His face pinched with worry and his lips set in the firm line. My stomach responded with an uncomfortable squeeze. I would rather have died than have him see me looking like I did. "Making sure no one comes in."
"Okay." There wasn't much else for me to say. Apparently his hand locked doors with a flash of light. But then he was a star, and in truth, I had no idea what he was capable of. Part of me wanted to find out, to dig deep under the layers that created his being, part of me wanted him to go away.
"I thought I couldn't see you without your cap?"
'True." He stepped closer. I wished my mouth didn't go dry at his approach, but it did, it stuck to the roof of my mouth and I gave a nervous swallow.
"You're blocking me." I sighed with resignation. Him blocking me felt like a deceit. He knew everything about me, yet I wasn't allowed to see him. He could see me covered in disgusting meat that resembled chewed dog food, yet I couldn't see him. Tears loomed.
He was close, his eyes skimming my face. "I have to, Bron, to be safe."
I don't know why it hurt so much, but it did. I guess it was because he could see all of me, I couldn't disguise a single thing, even when covered in mess. It felt unfair that I couldn't see him for all his flaws. He probably had none, I thought to myself.
"I do," he murmured, his finger grazing up to my face.
"Don't do that." Him reading my thoughts was getting old, quick.
"Learn to block me then."
This was when the tears I'd been containing within me trickled like the persistent drip of a tap down my cheeks. "I can't. I'm so weak. I can feel it."
"How does it feel?" He was so close I could smell his skin. He smelt of heather and the fresh air on the Yorkshire moor I loved so much.
"Like I'm about to crumble."
He stepped away, his hands rifling through his hair. "I don't understand." He spun away, his elbows squeezed together above his head. The curve of muscles under his T-shirt bunched high, hinting at power and strength.
Whatever he was battling, he brought it under control. When he turned back, his face was calm, his body controlled. "Let me help fix you. I can stop the bleeding and clean up your clothes."
My eyes opened wide. "That would be lovely. But I think everyone might notice if one minute I'm covered in Lasagne and the next it's gone."
He frowned. "Okay, at least let me stop the nosebleed." His eyelashes fluttered.
I planned on saying no, but the blood dripping down the back of my throat was disgusting, so I gave a small nod. He placed a hand on the side of my face his palm cupping my cheek. I tried not to lean into his touch, but I failed. Closing my eyes, I waited for some sensation that something was happening—a tingle, a blast of warmth. Anything that would tell me his magic was healing me. There was nothing.
"Done." His voice was deliciously close to my ear and a warm lick of air brushed against my chin. I didn't want to open my eyes, scared that when I did he would move away and break the spell.
I opened them though.
For a long moment we stood, his face a mere inch from mine. I wanted to kiss him so bad. I'd never wanted to kiss anyone the way I did him in that moment. It was all consuming. The chain in my stomach recoiled and shook in frustration.
