“Not exactly,” I reply. It occurs to me that I never told Jenna about Nick. It’s not that I meant to keep it from her; I just don’t talk about myself or my life in great detail. I’ve never been very open with anyone other than my mom and Rachel, but all the same, I feel like a horrible friend. “I mean, I am sort of dating someone older.”
“Oh God, Heather. You’re not robbing the grave, are you?”
“No! Just… he’s twenty three. And he’s a great guy.”
“And you’ve never told me about him because…?”
“Jenna, most of our conversations eventually lead towards you questioning my sexuality. I didn’t think you’d believe me.”
Jenna laughs, since we both know I’m right, and I fill her in on what I can about the relationship between Nick and I while Rachel tries playing Rock Band by herself for a little while. I tell her we bumped into each other at Barnes and Noble, and that he’s a medical student taking a semester off to focus on enjoying his youth while he still can. Jenna smiles, and says, “It sounds like this guy might be too good to be true. What’s wrong with him?”
“What?”
“There’s got to be something wrong with a guy that great. Is he ugly?”
“No, not at all.”
“An ex-convict?”
“No!”
“Has a history of child abuse-“
“Jenna, there’s nothing wrong with him, nothing like that. He’s not perfect, but still. I like him a lot.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Jenna watches Rachel try to tackle a guitar solo, and fail miserably, before asking, “Do you love him?”
“I don’t know… how are you even supposed to know what that feels like?”
“Trust me, you’ll know. Love is one of those wonderful, horrible, indefinable things that everyone experiences in their own way, but when you feel it, you’ll know.”
After a while, we all get bored with just sitting around the house, and head out as a group to the nearest diner. The sky is just beginning to darken as we walk down busy streets, doing our best to avoid the herds of people rushing home from work. Jenna nurses one mug of coffee after another and a plate of waffles, while Rachel and I enjoy some decidedly decent cheeseburgers. We sit in our booth relaxing for a long time after the meal, so long that the sun is just barely hovering above the horizon by the time we leave. Rachel checks the time, and proclaims that she should be leaving, since she has to head back to the Bronx, and the ride takes a while. I hug her tightly, and make her promise to let me know when she gets home, and she asserts that she will before walking in the opposite direction of Jenna’s house, to the nearest train station.
When we get back to Jenna’s house, she complains that she’s tired, even after all the coffee she drank, and tells me she’s going to sleep pretty early. We say goodnight, then she disappears into her bedroom, somewhere down the hall from mine. I change into pajamas and a tank top, then tie up my hair and lay down on the tiny guest room’s appropriately tiny bed. Part of me immediately reconsiders the decision to abandon my huge, soft bed for the sake of my own safety as my body lands on the sturdy mattress. I dig a textbook out of my backpack, and once I find a comfortable position to read in, I crack it open to the chapter I’m supposed to read. I can barely pay attention to the words in front of me; Ancient History isn’t my favorite subject, but I still force myself to focus.
I’m nearly at the end of the chapter when my phone starts to ring. I don’t recognize the number, but I still slam my book shut, and answer with an excited, “Hello?”
“Hello, yourself.” I can hear Nick’s one-dimpled smile through the phone, and it brings a nearly identical one to my lips. “How were your first few hours in witness protection?”
“Kind of uneventful. Jenna invited Rachel over, and we played video games and went out to eat and stuff. How have you been?”
“Oh, just grand. I’ve already cheated on you with at least twelve different girls.”
“Only twelve? You’re such a disgrace to hot guys everywhere, Nicholas Brandt.”
“As long as you’re willing to concede that I’m hot, that’s fine by me.” Neither of us says anything for a while, and I keep half-expecting to hear his soft breathing, and remembering that he doesn’t need to anymore. I lay still, enjoying the comfortable silence, until Nick asks, “Is it weird that I already miss you?”
“Not really. I kind of feel the same.”
“Kind of?”
“Jenna’s gorgeous older brother is keeping me company.”
“I’m starting to think you have a fetish for older guys, young lady.”
“Only for the ones with fangs.” Nick laughs, and then we settle into another moment of silence, and I smile as I realize that we’re actually talking on the phone for the first time. It’s a little thing among the myriad little things about us that makes me appreciate what we have. We keep flirting for a while, and I keep thinking that I could stay on the phone with him forever, but before long, his soothing voice takes its effect on me, and my eyelids fail to stay open. Before we hang up, I ask, “Do you even need to sleep?,” my words slurring as if I’d had a few drinks.
Nick laughs, and says, “Not for very long, but yes. Once in a while, I do need to rest.”
“That’s surprising. I feel like I don’t know much about vampires, even though I’m dating one.”
“Maybe someday, when you’re fully awake, I’ll tell you everything I know.”
“You better… I should be sleeping, huh?”
“Yeah. Should I go?”
“I wish you didn’t have to.”
“Me either. But I’ll talk to you some more tomorrow night, okay cupcake?”
Generally, I don’t approve of cutesy pet names, even though Nick has a fondness for using them. I let it slide for now, though, and say, “I can’t wait.”
“Goodnight, Heather.”
“Goodnight.” The line goes dead after a few seconds, and I let the phone fall from my fingers onto the bed next to me, too tired to bother getting up and turning off the light. I dwell on our conversation for as long as I can, then drift into a blissful sleep, unaware of the fact that Rachel neglected to call or text me as promised.
Chapter 24
Living with Jenna is a little more difficult than I’d originally assumed it would be. Mr. and Mrs. Chen demand of both of us that we wake up at five in the morning, and that we all eat breakfast together. Breakfast unfortunately includes Jenna’s baby brother, who flings banana flavored baby food in my face my first morning here. Normally, I love babies as much as the next person, but little Mikey doesn’t exactly make a good first impression on me. Thankfully, the house has two bathrooms, so we don’t have to fight much over who gets to be first in the shower. It’s nearly impossible to take a long shower, however; the water turns ice cold after only a few minutes.
Jenna’s parents are also very secretive, and let me know repeatedly that certain parts of the house are off-limits. Once, I made the mistake of trying to peek into the basement, and her dad nearly had a heart attack when he noticed me opening the door. He made it perfectly clear that if I want to continue being a guest here, I’ll have to contain my curiosity. I haven’t tried looking behind any closed doors since.
Jenna and I spend the weekend catching up on each other’s lives. I realize that I’ve spent even less time with her than I have with Rachel, who I’ve only seen sporadically over the past four months. When I apologize for my absence, though, Jenna says she’s been busy as well. She dodges the question when I ask what she’s been up to, and I make up a lie about needing a tutor for Calculus when she asks the same of me. I don’t even know why; Rachel and my mother took the news well when I told them I was a spellcaster, Jenna might as well. I suppose the timing just doesn’t feel right.
I reluctantly go back to school when Monday rolls around, and it’s just as boring as ever. If we didn’t have finals coming up in a few short weeks,
I would still be reading a book under the desk, rather than taking notes. The only class I’m really worried about is Calculus; I almost regret not paying attention before. At this point, I’ll gladly accept a C or lower if it means I can still graduate.
Jenna and I don’t have any classes together other than English, so we meet up for lunch every day at any available table. I frequently spot Alyssa, sitting alone at a table in the corner, scribbling in her leather bound book. Every once in a while, I’ll glance at her to find her eyes on me, and rather than seeing them flitting away, she holds her golden gaze on me for a few seconds before slowly returning to her writing. I feel like I should go over and talk to her, but Jenna would never let me hear the end of it if I did. I’d rather avoid explaining how Alyssa and I know each other, so I keep my distance for the moment.
I’m confident that I’m safe with Jenna, but even so, my heart skips a beat whenever I spot someone wearing all black on the street, or on the subway. They rarely ever pay me any mind, but I never let my guard down, just in case. One afternoon, I spot someone dressed in black following Jenna and I back to her house in the corner of my eye. I come dangerously close to telling her to walk ahead, while I deal with him. It turns out to be a false alarm, though; when I spin around to get a glimpse of his face, I see that the guy I assumed was a threat doesn’t have any ancient symbols branded into his arm, like most mature spellcasters do. He rounds a corner a few blocks from Jenna’s house, and I relax.
Aside from worrying about Selene, my grades, and my social status, I also feel a growing level of concern for Rachel. Jenna and I try repeatedly to find her during school hours, but she’s nowhere to be found, nor will she answer her phone. Our attempts to get in contact with her parents are likewise failures, leading Jenna to believe that they went on vacation somewhere, and Rachel forgot to tell us. My instincts are telling me that it’s nothing so benign, that Rachel wouldn’t leave the city for a week without telling someone, but I let Jenna believe that her theory is possible. I decide for myself that I’m going to the police if I don’t hear from Rachel before the end of the month.
My second week back, Jenna claims that she needs to take a mental health day, so I end up heading to school by myself. I nearly get lost, since I’m not quite used to the commute from Queens just yet, but I still manage to make it to class on time. The morning classes breeze by without incident (although I nearly fall asleep in Calculus), and out of habit, I look around for Jenna at lunch time only to remember that she won’t be coming. Then, I spot Alyssa, sitting alone at her table. I’d rather not sit by myself, and I’d been meaning to talk to her anyway, so I make my way over to her corner of the cafeteria.
Alyssa looks up at me as I draw near, and her eyes widen in alarm. I can’t say blame her; before going through the Guardian’s trials together, she and I barely spoke, and we definitely never ate lunch together. I peek into the book she’s always writing in, and find lines of poetry written in ink the same shade of green as my eyes, signed by one “A. Russo.” Alyssa slams the book shut before I can decode her handwriting, and asks, “What are you doing here?”
I’m a little put off by the hostility in her tone, but I try to remain polite. “Eating lunch with you. Is that a crime?”
“No, but it’s a stupid idea. I repeat, what are you doing here? Why would you come outside at all, for that matter? Are you insane?”
“I’m fine. Krystal and I worked out a-“
“Heather. You’re not safe here, or anywhere. And you’re especially not safe around me. So just… stay away, alright?” Alyssa slips her book into a small black bag at her side, then slings the bag over her shoulder. She mutters, “Do yourself a favor, Santos. Find a hiding spot, and stay there.” Then without another word, she turns and walks away.
For a moment, I’m too stunned to do anything but watch Alyssa leave, but in a flash, I’ve grabbed my tray and started following her. She looks over her shoulder at me, then walks a little faster. I call out to her several times, but she never responds. Eventually, she stops at a locker, and fiddles with the lock until it opens, so she can throw her bag inside. I stop behind her, and ask, “What’s your problem?”
Finally, she turns to face me and says, “You’re the one with problems.”
“So I’m the one storming out of the lunchroom for no good reason?”
“No, you’re the moron trying to consort with the enemy.”
“The enemy… since when are we enemies?”
“Since always, alright? Now get the hell away from me.”
“No.” Alyssa tries to storm off again, but I grab her by the arm, and ask, “Why are you being such a bitch today?”
Alyssa accidentally knocks the tray out of my hand as she wrenches her arm away, and shouts, “Because I care about you, alright?!” The words echo through the empty hall, and in the silence that follows, her expression softens a little. “I care about you a lot, more than I ever meant to, and I don’t want to let anything happen to you, but… you’re just so damn stubborn. And you don’t seem to realize how much danger you’re in. You’re basically a walking target, and you don’t seem to care.”
Alyssa’s outburst touches a nerve, and all the frustration I’ve kept bottled up for the past week or so rises to the surface in a flash. “I do care, actually, but what everyone else needs to realize is that I’m not fragile, and I don’t need constant supervision! I have my own life to lead, and that shouldn’t have to stop just because some old bitch with a grudge wants me out of the picture.” I bend down to pick up my lunch, which thankfully didn’t spill out of its plastic container. “Why DOES Selene want me dead, anyway? I never did anything to her.”
“I don’t know. She won’t tell me anything about what her plans for you and Krystal are.”
“Well, that’s just perfect.”
“Either way, you should still be at least a little more worried about yourself.”
“Oh, please.” I stand up straight, holding my tray in both hands. “I’m a New Yorker, it’s not a full day unless I’ve had at least five near-death experiences.”
Alyssa rolls her eyes, and asks, “Why are you being so difficult?”
“I’m not being difficult, I’m just tired of everyone treating me like a baby. ‘Heather, don’t go outside. Heather, don’t get into fights. Heather, don’t talk to me, I’m dangerous.’ I’m sick of it! I just want at least ONE of the people in my life to accept that I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“I know you can take care of yourself, Heather. I’m sure everyone else does, too. And I can’t speak for them, but I know I don’t want for you to be in a situation where you have to. Does that make sense?” Alyssa’s shoulders slumps as she says, “I don’t think you’re weak, I just don’t want to lose you.”
I lean against the lockers, and let out a sigh. “Fine. I guess I understand.”
“Good.” I suppose I still look upset, because Alyssa asks, “Is that all that’s bothering you?”
“Honestly… no. My friend’s been missing for over a week.”
“Which one? The ginger?”
“Her name is Rachel, but yes. She disappeared somewhere between Queens and the Bronx.”
“I was wondering why she hasn’t been showing up to art class lately.” Alyssa leans against the lockers to my left, watching me carefully. “You think something happened to her?”
“I’m sure of it.”
“Then, if you want, I can try to help you find her.”
“What? How?”
“I can sense energy, like some of the Guardians.”
“How does that help us?”
Alyssa glares at me over her glasses as if she’s being asked to explain something basic. “Everyone’s energy has a slightly different feel to it, and I can tell certain people apart from others. She’s not a spellcaster, so her aura will be fainter than anyone else I’ve ever tracked that way, but I’ll see what I can do.”
“Al
lie… I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything yet. There’s a catch.”
I should have known; nothing good ever comes without a price. I sigh, and ask, “What’s the catch?”
“I’d like your help with something after school today. You don’t actually have to do much, just provide moral support. And you’re the only person I feel like I can trust with this.”
“That’s fine, what are we doing?”
“All in good time. Meet my by the side exit after your last class.”
“You’re assuming I’m gonna go.”
“Am I wrong?”
I smile, but say nothing as I push myself off the lockers, and start walking back towards the cafeteria. I half expect Alyssa to follow me, but she just says, “I’ll see you then,” and I can make out the sound of her footsteps over mine, growing fainter until they fade into the distance.
Chapter 25
Time seems to crawl by for the rest of the day. Minutes turn to hours, and I space out while watching the clock more times than I care to admit. I honestly can’t wait to get the hell out of here so I can help Alyssa with whatever it is she’s got planned. The sooner I help solve her problem, the sooner we can find out what happened to Rachel. The universe, however, seems hell bent on keeping me in school for an eternity. The final bell sounds at last, and for once, I’m the first student to pack up and rush out the door.
Alyssa stands waiting for me by the side exit as promised, silently writing in her book. She looks up as I draw near, and quickly slips the book into her bag before greeting me. “Santos. You showed up.”
“Yes I did, Russo.”
“Stop that. Calling people by their last name is my thing.”
“Okay… are you gonna tell me where we’re going?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Alyssa pushes open the door, and together we step outside. It’s a pretty nice day for the end of May, even though it’s the kind of hot outside that reminds you spring is almost over. We don’t get to enjoy the weather for long, however, as Alyssa soon leads us onto the subway. It’s not until we arrive at Penn Station, and she buys our tickets that I get an idea of where we’re going; on the ticket she hands me, in small print, are the words Oyster Bay. I shoot her a confused look, but she offers no explanation as we walk to the appropriate platform and board the train.
Spellbound (the Spellbound Series Book 1) Page 18
