Now as we look in their direction, he runs his fingers down Leslie’s arm, trying to prove to us how easily we can be replaced. Aimes calls the bluff by blowing a kiss to J.D. and it lands its mark better than Cupid could with his sense of irony. J.D. frowns with a moment of regret upon his face, his fingers pausing on Leslie’s arm as if they are touching something offensive before returning to rest at his side. The men around him with their silent attunement to him notice the shift in his mood. Their eyes all at once come to rest on us watching them.
Rhett waves an exaggerated wave with just as comical a smile in our direction. Aimes returns it with a wave that would make parade queens proud. The kisses he sends her would make one swoon. Even Shelia laughs at the sight of such a larger than life man fooling around with our pixie.
I notice Dolph as he enters the courtyard entrance behind the gathered group. Adjusting the rifle onto his back, he squints against the afternoon sun flirting in and out of the clouds teasing us with its warmth. The sun’s rays catch the many tints of his hair from a dark red brown to its hidden golden hues. His long stride tells of his ease in any situation as his eyes continue to glance down before coming back to rest on our new groups.
His short head nods are becoming his trademark. He signals Simon with one when their eyes meet. Dolph pauses halfway to us, making Simon step away and cover the gap left to speak with him. His face doesn’t hide his suspicion of us and J.D.’s group does not help his assumptions. They are starting their own stare off with him, as they grow silent. Simon had hinted at this on the way here. Now the tension is simmering like summer’s heat in the space between our groups.
“Boys…” Aimes begins, before I can clear my throat to stop her from speaking whatever her little fun-sized mind is going to spill forth next.
“Shelia, why don’t you take them and get them set up?” Simon asks of her, eyeing the tension brewing. To us he says, “Make sure your boys follow you out, okay?”
Simon does not need to place any more meaning into his words. He knows he cannot control both sides should egos erupt. He is counting on us to help him diffuse what could be a volatile situation with so much male pride on the line.
As far as first impressions go, the men are blowing it. The other residents are now clustered into small fragments of groups watching it all. If social media was still available, I can only imagine the many updates this groups would hold from their many highs and lows of this morning.
“Aye aye, Capt’n,” Aimes says, before whistling for the rest of our once happy family. “Here Attack Monkeys. Come on, Attack Monkeys,” she yells across the divide, using the term of endearment from earlier.
It successfully breaks the male angst with her antics. Dolph even has to cock one eyebrow in her direction with her title for the men. His body relaxes some with the humor.
Chapel breaks rank first and makes his way to us. He is as tired as I am of the constant posturing but unable to escape it as easily as I can. Rhett and Lawless begin imitating the animal call of their new nicknames, jumping over the Harleys in their path to follow Chapel over to us. J.D. and Marxx stare at Dolph, sending a private male message to the other man before following the group. Leslie sits alone and stranded on the back of the bike without her newly formed male court around her. They leave her without a second thought, causing her mouth to hang in the air with her shock. It also sends a private message to those watching. Leslie is on her own, as far as they are concerned.
“Oooo, shanked,” Aimes whispers to me, over the now abandoned woman as she jumps down from the edge of the tall truck. I smile, watching Lawless return to me and arch an eyebrow at the redhead who is glaring at his back. I smile, but a part of me knows, he is not returning to me at all.
Chapter 24
We follow Shelia into one of the many tall arches from the courtyard. Lawless and Rhett are still enjoying their calls to each other until a firm look from J.D. reduces them to silence. Like naughty boys, they still under his gaze. I find them now more humorous than their zoo rendition and I let my smile tell J.D. so. He smirks at me, forgetting our earlier conversations for the moment. It eases the fluttering in my stomach threatening to grow into so much more with the knowledge I am about to enter another school. Last time it didn’t go so well, not for me and not for those in my care.
The interior of the high school is the same color scheme as the outside. It’s grey, dark and wonderfully depressing. No happy mascots of false cheer here to stare down at me with the secret knowledge of my sins. Shades fade from white to a silver-grey with a strategic process that refuses to form any real patterns, but simple shading along the walls and tiled floors. The tall windows are embedded with a crisscross wiring of security. The sun filters through, allowing just enough light to fill the hallways.
“Depressing,” Aimes whispers in my ear.
She doesn’t want to upset Shelia with her opinion. She is holding hope this could be a new start for us as one behind us is determined otherwise. J.D.’s scowl is meant to offend, and he is just waiting for someone to call him on it.
“It’s fitting,” is my answer to her. I am unwilling to admit how happy I am for the lack of pastels.
The stairwell is behind heavy steel doors. It requires Shelia to lean into them with the full weight of her small body to have them open for her. She smiles at us with a shy touch of embarrassment over the fact.
Chapel reaches over her, holding them open for us with a simple return of her smile. His six-foot frame easily supports the weight of them and allows her to slip under his arms. I bet he was always picked first to play “London Bridges” in school.
“Thank you. Simon says I will be happy they are so heavy should we need the safety of them, but I can’t help but wonder about it every time I have to come up and down these steps,” Shelia says. Her dark natural skin tone hints at a shade of pink standing so close to Chapel.
Each one of the men bounces the weight off their palms as they follow us through, judging the logic of her words themselves. Rhett chooses a different test.
Rhett swings the door back onto Marxx with the full strength of his arms. He and Lawless skip ahead a few steps to distance themselves from the man who caught the weight of the steel door mostly with his face. Their laughter taunts Marxx as he does his own half run to catch up to them, intending to repay them for their humor. J.D.’s simple slide of his shoe with his turn to look at them is enough to stall all three of them in their actions. Their laughter dies, leaving only Marxx’ glare to mark the event.
“What naughty little boys we have,” Aimes muses with annoyance.
“So, how did that weight feel? Your face thankful?” J.D. asks Marxx, with a dangerous smile.
When there is no answer and the coughing used to disguise hidden laughter is finally through, he turns back to Shelia as if nothing happened. He silently stares at her to continue with the tour with nothing more than his eyes to let her know he is waiting.
“We set up the living quarters on the top floor. It makes everyone feels safer I guess.” Shelia leads on, but not before glancing one last time at J.D. before turning her back to lead us further. She seems to be having second thoughts about that safety concept now with J.D. on this side of those heavy doors.
“Just what exactly is the top?” Aimes asks.
“The third floor,” Shelia responds. Her smile isn’t meant to mock Aimes, but it does.
“Totally rethinking my shoes. How about you, Hells?” Aimes raises her eyebrow to ask if I can make it.
This is where I would normally point out my She-Ra status, but I hate to brag.
“Nah, Barbie here is just fine. Hers are all broken in. Right, Girly?” J.D.’s voice snakes its way up my spine with its pitch. He is gaining a gold star today with the skill of his hidden threats.
I don’t answer him. I let my eyes meet his with my silent answer. I let him know I understand where he is heading with his hints and what exactly he is aiming to remind me of before we are subjected to
more public stares. A thousand replies form on my lips, each with their own dosage of poison to be ingested when Chapel’s hand gently touches my lower back, taking the sting from J.D.’s look.
“Don’t give him the win,” Chapel whispers in my ear, using his own long shoulder length hair to cover his lips.
It must have provided a different appearance of what he did by the sharp male inhale from behind us. Maybe it was what Chapel had meant for it to look like in an attempt to cover his dare of overstepping J.D.’s lead. In his mind, J.D. holds grudges longer than Lawless. Thinking of how quickly Leslie was able to slither her way in, I am not so sure about his logic.
I let Chapel’s hand guide me further up the steps to where Shelia is waiting with Aimes. Amusement dances in my friend’s eyes, confirming exactly what Chapel’s actions just looked like to those around us. Neither Chapel nor I try to deny or suggest otherwise. We allow them to come to their own conclusions and I smile up into his warm eyes, letting him lead me. Another imaginary line is drawn.
The third level landing is alive with layers of sounds slipping from beneath its heavy doors. Conversations of different pitches mingle with sounds of footsteps and even the pitter-patter of running. Laughter fills in the many pauses caused by lapses of words. There are sounds of children playing and I feel my mouth go dry with their laughter. Her laughter from my memories mingles with theirs, making my chest tighten with the sound of her voice.
I am afraid of those doors as much as I am rejoicing in them. Feeling my nervousness radiate through me, Chapel’s thumb begins a slow, small circle on my lower back. There is irony in the fact the man they have deemed our weakest link is now my strongest rock. He will be the first man through these double doors while the rest stand back, having grown very silent behind us.
Shelia smiles at me over her shoulder. She assumes my reaction is due to anxiousness to see what lies ahead. She does not under- stand our scar rule, so I just smile back. I am still smiling as she opens the doors and watches my face for the joy she must feel with their set-up. The pride she must feel over being able to hold on to something when the sky seems to be falling down around everyone else. I smile, thinking of the cabin and how we felt back then. I understand her joy.
The hallway is a long, hollow rectangle keeping the placement of the courtyard in the middle. The many classrooms repeating along each side have been converted into small apartments for those who now live here.
The stairwell opens into a large sitting area with benches and many brightly colored toys are spread around in the space with an attempt to encourage mingling with the many families milling around. Conversations slowly fade away as people begin to take notice of us watching them. The hissing of whispers replaces the laughter we had heard as speculations are forming over who we are and the possible reasons for our arrival.
“Yo,” Aimes says, with a little wave, trying to break the awkwardness of it all. She fails. The whispering only continues louder than before making her reply, “Tough crowd.”
“It has been a bit since we have added anyone,” Shelia offers sheepishly. “They will come around. It has been a rough morning with the possibility of Simon being gone. I am sure he will hold a meet-and-greet later after you have had time to settle in.” Shelia has genuine care for our predicament.
“Well, color me excited!” Aimes’ false excitement causes us all to smile.
“Don’t worry, we don’t bite,” Shelia says, encouraged by the smiles.
Playing the perfect hostess, Shelia starts to walk again down one of the long hallways. She smiles and makes small talk with the random people standing around as we make our way down the hall. They may hold conversation with her, but they are silently staring at us.
“Really?” Rhett asks, also encouraged by the conversation. “Because we do.” His smile reaches his whole face.
Shelia, with all of her love for Simon, still blushes with his innuendo. It only further invites him, allowing him to lean into her in a joking manner. A part of me knows Rhett is not a flirt by nature. He will tease you. He will play along in any word game of your choice, but never one to first openly flirt with strangers. It took years before the man would even acknowledge Aimes and myself with more than a brief word or a stare. Now, he is drop- ping smiles on a woman he met just moments ago. A woman he knows belongs to another.
One glance at J.D. and my suspicions are confirmed. His grin is one of approval, not enjoyment of Rhett’s actions. Shelia doesn’t know it yet, but she is now part of their game. A game I am sure is aimed at Simon for his disrespects to them earlier. An eye for an eye is the only game J.D. knows.
Aimes and I share a look of understanding over their new plot. We both silently agree we will only let it play out so far. Our reaching this decision to stand in the middle of their plotting shows how far our group is rebuilding around a new rulebook. The days of us both smiling and nodding, along with being “his girls” at Grit, have flipped as simply as one would change the many months of a calendar. Not wanting to risk him ruining what could be a home for us, we no longer wish to be the pin-ups for him to visually enjoy.
“Soooo, where are we heading?” Aimes slides between Shelia and Rhett with a complete innocence of her demeanor.
She takes the space between them completely, giving Shelia pause at the meaning of it. Aimes smiles at her, trying to put her nervousness at rest. I think the woman is just prone to nervous- ness. Wait until she sees the real Rhett.
“We have some spare rooms up toward the end. I don’t know how you want to divide it up.” Shelia leaves off with her con- fusion over who goes where with whom. I don’t think we even know that little fact at this point.
Conversation lapses the rest of the way to our new rooms with the question hanging in the air around us. Only Shelia’s glances, trying to figure out our many details holds any form of a language exchange. We are all blank faces, making it a one-sided conversation for her. Those are never fun.
“Well, here we are. The desks have all been removed and small cots put in their places. The rooms right now have three each. I am sure we can find more if needed,” she says fidgeting with her hair. She does not try to hide her nerves anymore. At this point, we aren’t exactly shocked to see them.
“Don’t worry, Darlin’. We can do the math and figure it all out,” Rhett offers as he smiles again.
Rhett rubs her shoulders letting the smile breach her defenses. It works. She smiles before correcting herself, glancing at Aimes to express her apology for her actions. Aimes is not playing along anymore and Shelia walks away unsure of what to do to appease her.
“Darling? Really?” Aimes waits until Shelia is out of earshot to call Rhett’s bluff.
“What? I can’t be friendly?” Rhett has brought down the watt- age of his smile back to his genuine mischievous look. “Maybe I like a little milk chocolate,” he says with a shrug.
“Oh, just stop. I’m gonna be sick.” Aimes covers her mouth and with her best acting skills pretends to be ill. “Just the thought of you being all romantic is super creepy. Like bloody valentine creepy. And a shoulder rub? Really? If you put it on any thicker, you’re going to have fake more than your smile.”
“Not a virgin. I’ve learned how to fake it, Sweetheart,” Rhett says. He cocks one eyebrow to match his smirk.
“Yeah, but I wasn’t talking about you remembering their names.” Aimes lets her words hit home. It more than projects her idea of his sex life.
“Maybe I’ve never found a girl worth going a second round with or one to make me want to remember her name afterwards,” he says, shrugging at her with the false feelings of loneliness making his statement that much more comical with his exaggerated sad eyes.
“Very romantic, Rhett, very romantic. Let’s rush off to buy roses.” Her eye roll is anything but false but still as comical.
“Naw, that’s Law’s deal,” Rhett says. His words make everyone inhale a breath with his hidden insult.
“Who is going where,
and guess who my vote doesn’t lie with?” I ask, being tired of the word games.
“The girls will go in one room leaving Marxx, Rhett, Lawless and me in this one. One of us four will keep switching off to keep watch,” J.D. answers me, watching as the meaning sinks in.
Chapel does not even flinch with the insult but stays blank. It’s my turn now to come to his rescue. I am not sure how well of a rock I will make, but I am going to try.
“Have I ever told you, Chap, how I can’t sleep unless I have something to hold?” I let my body slide against his when I walk past him into our ‘soon to be shared’ room. My voice lowers to something of a purr. His eyes follow my movement with a heat I have never seen him hold before.
“No. You haven’t.” Chapel’s voice is thick. It fills the hallway with his male hopes and needs.
“Oh, it’s true. She is quite the screamer at night.” Aimes drops her voice to match his pitch, letting her words carry a double meaning to peak the needs of those watching us. “We just love big, strong arms around us to keep us safe and sound.”
“I like to snuggle,” Marxx says. His deep gravel seems out of sort with his random outburst.
Trying to picture Marxx snuggling brings a smile to my face just as he had planned.
“I guess you’ll have to take that up with J.D. He made the room choices.” I take Chapel’s hand and pull him into our room behind me as I whisper to Marxx, “Maybe he likes to snuggle, too.”
“We can always find you boys Leslie. She seems to enjoy more than just cuddling in her cot.”
I hear J.D. say to my back. With that, J.D. throws the final gauntlet to my bluff. I close our door before he has his proof of his new wound upon me.
Dawning (The Risen Series Book 1) Page 17
