The Dark One

by Jennifer Martucci

  Sarah tips her chin so that she’s staring right into my eyes. She has the face of an angel, amazing eyes that shine, and I immediately forget how to breathe. She doesn’t speak for several moments, just holds me in a trance-like state, mesmerized by her gaze. “Tyler’s mom’s name is Linda. She’s an artist and planted a butterfly bush out front by the walkway.”

  I smile goofily, adoring how she just comes out with random facts. No matter, though. She could say just about anything, take me to an expo where we watch paint dry together and I’d still smile like an idiot. “A butterfly bush.” The term is foreign to me.

  “It’s a big purple bush, also known as a summer lilac.” Sarah’s eyes glitter with a modicum of pride.

  “Awesome,” I say and bob my head. “So the lilac attracts butterflies?”

  “Yes!” She bounces on the balls of her feet excitedly. “That’s exactly right.” She reaches out and touches my arm. The act sends a wave of warmth crashing into me, only not the sweaty embarrassed kind. This wave snatches the breath from my lungs and makes me wish she’d never move her hand ever. I’m about to reach out my hand and cover hers when Chris and four of his friends exit through the sliding glass doors we exited from. When they see us, they head straight for us, and my stomach plummets to my feet.

  “Hey Sarah.” Chris’ voice is cloying as he addresses only her. “What’re these losers doing here?” He clips his head toward me and anger snaps through me like a current of electricity. But before I’m able to open my mouth and utter a single word, Sarah whirls on him.

  “Do you always have to be such a jerk?” she fires with venom in her tone. “They’re with me and they aren’t losers!”

  Chris scratches his chin as if deep in thought, then his lips part to form a slow, vicious smile. “Yeah Sarah, they may be with you but they weren’t invited, and I know I can’t speak for Tyler, but I know how I’d feel if a party at my house was crashed. I’d toss the losers out after giving them a little something to remind them why it’s rude to show up to parties uninvited.” He cracks the knuckles on his right hand then his left.

  “Well lucky thing this isn’t your house.” She matches the acid in his voice and smirks just as he does.

  Chris tightens his upper lip over his teeth in a sneer, holding Sarah’s gaze. Instinctively, I place my body between Sarah and Chris. Chris looks over his shoulder at a guy wearing a black hooded sweatshirt with writing down the sleeves and a mowhawk. “Hey Ty! Buddy! Did you invite these losers to the party?”

  Tyler looks at us then shakes his head no.

  Chris whips his head back and glares at me, a smug look on his face. “There you have it. It’s time to go.”

  “Jerk!” Sarah shouts.

  “Me?” He rears his head as if he’s just been struck, his features screwed up in exaggerated shock. “I’m the jerk? Really? I’ve been asking you to come with me to this parry for a week now and instead you hang out with losers.” He shrugs. “And I’m the jerk? Ha!”

  “They’re not losers,” she growls through her teeth.

  “Ha! That’s a joke!” He tosses his head back and laughs. “Why don’t you give me a chance? Every girl here would kill for the chance. But not you.” The slur in his voice is apparent. He’s been drinking. He reaches around me and grabs her arm, the stench of alcohol surrounding him in a sour cloud.

  “Get off me you’re drunk!” Sarah screams but he doesn’t let go.

  “You’re not going to make a fool of me in front of everyone,” Chris hisses between clenched teeth.

  Anger charges through my veins like razor-sharp shards of glass, the situation happening so quickly, my brain struggles to process it at first. But when it finally does and when everything gels, I pull his hand off. “Get off her.” My voice erupts from a place deep inside me, dark and dangerous. His hand lands against his leg with a slap and a stunned look flickers across his features. But he quickly regains his composure.

  “Whoa, now, I’d calm down if I were you, little man.” Chris puffs out his chest to punctuate his obvious height and weight advantage.

  “Just leave her alone and we’ll go. She’s not interested,” I say referring to his advances.

  Chris advances a step and, before I can anticipate his movement, thrusts his arms forward and pushes me.

  I stumble but regain my footing instantly. Insides trembling, I try to diffuse the situation. “Look, I don’t want any trouble.” I raise my hands to chest height, palms facing out.

  “Yeah, I bet you don’t,” Chris snickers. “But you went and got yourself involved and now you’ve got it.” He shoves me a second time and I lurch backward, narrowly avoiding falling into the covered pool.

  My breathing ratchets up several notches, my anger soaring, and all fear seeps from me. I plant my feet and feel pure instinct overtake me. All negative self-talk is silenced. Inferiority complexes fall to the wayside. And any doubt about my capabilities evaporate. “Chris, if you touch me one more time, you’re going to get hurt.” My voice streams from me coolly, confidently. It sounds exactly like I feel.

  Chris looks among his friends as if checking to see that he heard me correctly. “I’m going to get hurt?” He looks left then right for approval. “Wow. I’m really going to give you a beating just for that.”

  “Leave him alone, Chris!” Sarah shouts, her voice hoarse and fraught with worry.

  Without taking my eyes off Chris. I reach my hand back and wrap it around one of hers. Giving it a gentle squeeze, I say, “Don’t worry about it, Sarah. He’s the one who’s going to get hurt.”

  Sarah looks at me strangely, but I do not have time to ask why. Chris flies into a rage, charging me and swinging his left fist at me. With swifter reflexes than I ever dreamed I’d have, I sidestep him and grab him by the back of his neck. I thrust him forward and he lands in the pool, making a huge splash that draws the attention of just about everyone at the party. Jumping up and as angry as any person I’ve ever seen, Chris lifts himself out of the water. Laughter erupts, and it’s aimed at him.

  Face beet red and water dripping off his soaked designer clothes, he glowers at me. “Just for that, I’m gonna put you in the hospital.” And with his words, he swings again. I dodge his blow a second time, and with the same ease I evaded the first. Only this time, instead of catching him by the back of his neck, I shoot my leg out and thrust him forward using his own momentum. He stumbles over it, careening full speed into wrought iron patio furniture, landing hard and sending it flying. Staggering to his feet, I see that his lip is bloody and that a gash marks his forehead.

  “Just stop now. I don’t want to hurt you,” I say.

  “You don’t want to hurt me?” he screams and bloody spittle sprays from his mouth. Lunging at me, I duck down. As he is on me, my body rockets upward with him still on top of me. He is lifted off the ground and sent flying. He lands to the ground hard and with a thud.

  Getting up slowly, he charges again and swings at me, his movement clumsy. Seeing his arm as if it’s moving in slow motion, I catch his arm, twist it behind his back and shove him to the ground face first, still clutching his arm and with me on his back. Heart drilling my ribcage, I lower my head, my breath coming in uneven pants. “Stay down,” I growl. “Stop this now before this gets bad.” My voice shivers with warning, with the promise of violence, and I feel the tension seep from his muscles. Slowly, I release him and stand. Chris scrambles to his knees, his head hanging low, then rises to his feet. He refuses to look at me, or anyone else for that matter, as he makes his way across the patio and through the house. My eyes follow him until he passes a cluster of upperclassmen, and a familiar pair of eyes finds me. My sister, Kiera, regards me with equal parts awe and disbelief. For once she isn’t mocking or ridiculing me. Her eyes do not dance with derision. To the contrary, pride glimmers in the depths of her gaze. My attention is ripped from her, however, when Sarah’s dulcet voice caresses my ear.

  “How did you do that?” Her tone is little more than
a breathy whisper, sweet and soft like summer rain. “Do you study martial arts or something?”

  Shaking my head and going with the first idea that pops into my mind, I answer, “Nah, I’m from Yonkers. You have to know how to fight if you grew up in the neighborhood I grew up in.” I realize how stupid I sound but given all that happened, I can’t muster the strength to backpedal.

  “That was awesome!” Steve is suddenly beside me, eyes wide and a huge smile carving his features.

  “How the heck did you do that?” Tom asks.

  “We’d better get out of here.” I dodge his question, the need to be as far from Tyler’s house as possible burgeoning.

  “Yeah, that’s probably best,” Sarah agrees. Then she turns and extends her hand to me. “Give me your phone.”

  “Huh?” I look at her, confused.

  “Just give it to me,” she demands.

  I slip it from my front pants pocket and hand it to her. Her slender fingers dance across the keypad.

  “Call me tomorrow.” She smiles and my heart melts.

  “I will,” I say as she turns on her heels and blazes a path through the growing crowd. We leave Tyler’s house, all heads swiveling with mouths agape as they stare at me. For the first time in my school career, I am the center of attention. I’m not sure whether I like it or not. All I know is that Sarah just put her phone number into my phone and asked me to call her tomorrow. Everything else is a blur of sound and color.

  Chapter 7

  Pacing around my room for the greater part of the last three hours trying to summon the courage to call Sarah has been harrowing. I’m not sure why. After all, she did give me her phone number and she did ask me to call her, so why can’t my trembling thumb, poised over the call button on my phone, complete the task?

  Inhaling deeply, I close my eyes and allow my thumb to touch the screen. The sound of a phone ringing begins after a second or two, and I feel a lacy web of panic ensnare me.

  “Hello?” Sarah’s sweet voice echoes on the line.

  Throat suddenly dry, I swallow hard then say, “Hi Sarah.”

  She pauses for a beat then says, “Danny, how are you?” My heart sprints. Maybe I’m imagining things, but it sounds as if she’s happy to hear from me. The thought is tempting. Dare I believe she is? “That thing you did last night, how you handled Chris, it was amazing.”

  Opening my eyes and smiling, I thank her. “Thanks.”

  “No one’s ever gone against him like that. No one’s ever stood up for me like that either. You’re a hero.” Her words surprise me, and not so much the part about no one standing up to Chris. I can’t fathom that anyone wouldn’t have done exactly what I did in the same situation. He was grabbing her arm, speaking in a low threatening tone. As far as I’m concerned I didn’t do anything special. I’m certainly not a hero, though it feels amazing to hear her say that to me.

  “Hmm, hero, not sure if I agree with you on that one. But if you insist.” I chuckle nervously and am thankful when she laughs too.

  “I do.” She giggles. It’s an intoxicating sound. “I do insist. From now on you are Hero Danny.”

  My cheeks warm. “Hey, you won’t catch me complaining about my new name.” My words make her laughter bubble anew.

  The giggles die down and she clears her throat. “So yeah, that was intense last night, for sure.”

  “That it was.” I bob my head not knowing why I am. She can’t see me.

  “What you did to Chris was long overdue,” Sarah shocks me by saying.

  “Really?” I can’t help but ask. “It seems like everyone likes him.” I recall him making his way down the hallway on my first day of school. “All he needed was a pink taffeta dress, a tiara and a sash and he could’ve passed for a pageant queen marching in a parade in her honor.” It makes me want to gag but not Sarah.

  Laughter vaults from her in a rush of melodic notes. “Oh my gosh.” She gasps and splutters. “You’re killing me! That’s all I’ll be able to see from here on out. Chris in a dress, waving like the Queen of Corn or something.”

  Her laughter continues throughout the remainder of our hour-long conversation, a detail that leaves me feeling ecstatic. She thinks I’m funny, otherwise she wouldn’t laugh. Emboldened as the conversation draws to a close, I muster the courage to ask her what I’ve been wanting to ask since she said hello. Inhaling deeply, I ask, “So, uh, what’re you doing tonight?”

  “I don’t have anything planned,” she answers casually. “How about you?” She doesn’t get that I’m trying to ask her out, not that I’m doing a good job of conveying my intentions. Jeez, I wish I were smoother!

  “I was, uh, wondering if, uh, you’d like to hang out.” I fumble over my words, breathless and suddenly lightheaded.

  “Sure!” Her enthusiastic response causes me to suck in a lungful of air, only saliva accompanies it and I hack and cough to the point my eyes bulge and my face reddens. “Danny, are you okay?” she asks.

  Wheezing, I answer. “I’m all right. Just choking on my own saliva.” Embarrassment clings to me like scum on a pond. “How about dinner and a movie, you know, if I can stop coughing,” I say between bouts.

  “That sounds great. What time are you picking me up?” she asks.

  “Does seven work for you?” I silently hope it does. I doubt I can wait longer than that.

  “Perfect. I’ll text you my address.” She pauses and I assume she’s composing her message. When my phone beeps and her number comes up I’m certain. “What movie are we seeing?”

  “Um, I’ll let you pick. I don’t really care as long as we’re together.” Oh my gosh! Did I just say that out loud? The question screams through my brain, loud and shrill like air breaks. I’m stunned. The second sentence slipped past my lips as if of its own accord. Sweat beads on my brow and back. Hearing me say that must make her think I’m not only an idiot but a loser too.

  “That’s so sweet, Danny. I’m looking forward to hanging out with you too.” The phone nearly slides from my hand. I bobble it before regaining control. I bring it to my ear.

  “Ok, see you at seven.” I try to sound cool, to sound as nonchalant and relaxed as possible. But in reality, I’m a quivering pile of nerves.

  “Ok I look forward to it,” she replies.

  We hang up and the rest of the day creeps by so slowly I swear the hours are reversing, not moving forward. When finally six-thirty arrives, I leave my room and trot down the staircase. Swiping the keys from the ceramic bowl on the table in the hallway. “Bye Mom!” I call out, “I’m leaving for my date.” Saying the word “date” and knowing it’s with Sarah feels incredible.

  Instead of my mother’s voice, I hear Kiera. “Who are you going out with?” She appears, arms folded across her chest and one eyebrow arched arrogantly.

  “Sarah.” Just saying her name makes my chest flutter. “You know, the girl I don’t have a chance with,” I add for good measure.

  The smug look melts from my sister’s face. “How? How did you manage that, and how did you do what you did last night?”

  Just then my mother rounds the corner. “What did he do last night?”

  I shoot Kiera a look of warning.

  Her eyes toggle between me and my mom. “Oh nothing,” she says smoothly, missing only a fraction of a beat. “I was just wondering how he got a date with the most popular girl in school.”

  “Your brother is a wonderful boy, that’s how.” My mother puts in her two cents with confidence.

  “Yeah, wonderful, right,” Kiera says. Then to only me, she adds, “We’re not done discussing this.” She holds my gaze for a moment.

  “Right,” I say before I turn my attention to my mother. “Bye, Mom.”

  “Bye, sweetie. Drive safely. And have fun!” she adds as I’m walking out the front door.

  Stepping out into the driveway, the first thing I notice is the way the air smells. Clean and earthy, the scent of ozone hangs heavily. The pavement is wet and brightly colored leaves lit
ter the walkway, as well as the front lawn. Rain has fallen. The day was unusually warm for October, hot even, but now a brisk breeze blows, sending leaves in rich reds, yellows and oranges cascading to the ground like embers. They circle and swirl all around me and I lift my chin, inhaling deeply as I turn my eyes skyward. Clouds race by, revealing a large swath of sky scrubbed to a perfect pastel blue. The color, so pale and striking, reminds me of Sarah’s eyes.

  Sarah. Just thinking her name sets off a tornado in my belly. My insides tremble, and for a moment, I worry I won’t be able to drive. But that worry is quickly dismissed when I consider the possibility of not seeing Sarah even for a fleeting moment. There isn’t a chance in the world I’d cancel. Death would be the only way I wouldn’t show up, and considering that I’ve died already once in the last three months, I think I’m safe for the time being.

  After unlocking the driver’s side door of the Honda CRV, I slide behind the steering wheel and enter her address into the GPS app on my phone.

  The drive to her home takes less than ten minutes, but in my state, it might as well be a three-hour journey. I can’t wait to see her. When finally I pull into her driveway and park, my hands tremble so violently that ringing the doorbell is a challenge. The door is answered immediately, and a tall woman with impeccable posture answers.

  “Hi there, you must be Danny. I’m Ellen, Sarah’s mother.” She waves me inside. “Please, come in. Sarah will be down shortly.”

  Stepping inside the tiled foyer, the scent of apples and cinnamon greets me along with tasteful fall décor.

  “Can I get you a drink? Iced tea? Soda? A bottle of water?” Ellen asks.

  Fiddling with the keys on the keychain in my hand, I politely decline. “No, thank you,” I say when what I’d really like to do is accept the bottle of water, chug it, then ask for another to dump on my head. All the nervousness and stress leading up to this date has made my head feel as if it’s the flame at the tip of a candle wick. I shift my weight from one leg to the next, clear my throat and then smile nervously.