NIGHTMARE
(Wayward Son ch. 1)
“So, what do you think?”
“Uh, you’re crazy? You wouldn’t be caught dead as a drag queen; you’d be dragged off for one of those mascara commercials!”
She laughed hysterically as he choked, a pained expression on his face from both her joke and the coke trying to kill him. Finally able to breathe properly again, he mock whispered, “Or how about you? You could go as a…”
“We’re looking to have good costumes, a great time and maybe win the costume contest, not get me expelled. And dominatrix? Too kinky, expulsion guaranteed, I can’t believe you’d even suggest it. Next! And be serious about it this time!”
Don’t say that; just let him keep making ridiculous suggestions…
He looked out the window of the restaurant, staring at the darkening sky, lost deep in thought. She studied his profile, loving the slight crease to his brow as he finally got serious. They’d been out looking for the perfect Halloween costumes all day, and while there had been several contenders, none of them had the Goldilocks feeling of “just right.”
Finally, his eyes regained focus as a grin spread across his face. He waited a beat, letting her curiosity grow and peak, then, excitement in his voice, he said triumphantly, “I got it. Devils and angels!”
“What, you mean which one?” she tilted her head to the side, interested but slightly confused.
He shook his head and waved his hand, adamant. “I mean both. The whole opposites attract thing would be perfect for a couples costume. I could be the demon…
“And I’m the angel that shows you the error of your ways and saves your soul?” She couldn’t help herself; she rolled her eyes and shook her head, amused. “Don’t you think that’s a little silly?”
“What about a Halloween costume isn’t
silly? Most of them are flat out ridiculous! So you like the idea?”
“Who said anything about that? I didn’t!”
“You said it was a silly idea; not a stupid one, like the last two. Besides, I see the look on your face; you do
like it!”
She looked down quickly, trying too late to hide her smile. Shrugging her shoulders, she said shyly, “Well, I guess it’s kind of sweet too; a little romantic in its own way…”
A look of triumph passed on his face when she said the “R” word; he knew she was sold on the idea, and he wasn’t about to let the victory slide. “So, what now?”
Regret showing in her eyes, she answered, “Home, unfortunately. It’s too late as of now for any of the good stores to be open tonight, and I have that sketch I wanted to make sure is done before I turn it in in the morning.”
He sighed dramatically, lamenting, “Alas, I will do as the fair lady bids me, languishing away those hours when I ought to sleep, dreaming of that glorious moment when my poor, unworthy eyes shall rest themselves on your radiant face once more.”
She barely kept herself from slugging him; although she did indulge in another eye roll. “Again, I ask, why haven’t you auditioned for the leading role in the school play? You’ve got Romeo’s sappiness down to an art form.”
Climbing to his feet, he offered his hand to help her up as he laughed, “Well, if they had the right girl cast as the leading lady…”
She’d taken the hand he offered and climbed to her feet; but she did slap him with his words. “You’re impossible! I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with you!”
Still grinning, he suggested, “Hate me if you want to, love me if you can? Besides, I…”
Holding up her hand, she said sternly, “Don’t even think of finishing that thought. Now, hand over the keys; I don’t trust you to keep your hands on the wheel tonight.”
Don’t hand the keys over; let him keep them,
please.
For a moment, it seemed like he was going to say something else. Instead, he flipped her the keys, saying as she caught them, “Well, since the wheels belong to you, I guess you can drive.”
Pressing a quick kiss to her cheek to silence her, he slipped out the door of the café before she could retaliate. Shaking her head, she paid for her half of the meal before grabbing her jacket. Shrugging it on, she opened the door of the café, easily spotting the tall figure standing by her car; a smile on his face, he already had the driver’s side door open, ready for her to get in. Smiling at his chivalry, she started down the steps of the café. But she’d never get to the car; she wouldn’t slide in behind the wheel, or turn the engine over just as he was shutting his own door. They wouldn’t drive by the coast, enjoying the sound of the rain striking the windshield. She wouldn’t find that slick spot and hydroplane into the guardrail…
Because she woke up screaming, her arms and legs tangled in her bed sheets. Her wails continued, even after her dad came into her room, trying in vain to quiet her thrashing. Gradually, her senses returned enough that she recognized him; burying her face in his chest, she continued to cry softly, her shoulders shaking as tears streamed down her cheeks. She felt her dad’s hand sliding through her hair, heard his voice soft and low as he whispered soothing words, trying to calm her, to chase away the nightmares like he used to when she was little. It used to work, but not this time, not with this one.
There was no easy waking from this hell; not when it was her fault.
~-~-~-~-~
Starting over was hell. Transferring schools was also hell. But starting over in both a new town and a new school? During his senior year? Was Rhys’ dad
trying to make sure he failed?
Shaking his head, Rhys juggled his books to his left arm so he could thumb the combination to pop his locker open. On the one hand, it was late September, so he was only a couple weeks out of the loop; thank-you, dad. And he also had to admit that the coursework was better; it was just advanced enough to be pleasantly challenging without being too difficult. A plus where Tony and Zack were concerned; the twins were less likely to get in serious trouble over the next couple of years if the teachers didn’t hand out assignments that were too easy.
And at least there was an archery range for Rhys to practice his bow work. It didn’t matter what kind of stress he was under; as soon as he had that bow in his hand and the quiver on his back, his whole world became about sighting down the arrow to the target. Almost nothing compared to the feeling of the arrow shaft between his fingers, the satisfaction of seeing the arrow head burrow deep into the target, hitting the bull’s eye dead center. To Rhys, it was a form of art, one that was almost fully eclipsed by its modern gun counterpoint.
But of course, there was the ever favorite stipulation of good grades to keep the bow in his hands. It wasn’t that the threat was really necessary; Rhys was a pretty good student, averaging A- to B’s depending on the class. And he
liked the work; he liked exercising his mind and keeping it in top condition. Not only that, but he wanted to be a good role model for his brothers; Zack and Tony looked for just about any reason they could for mischief, so Rhys didn’t feel like adding fuel to their fire. He also wanted to make sure Matt and Melody stayed on the right track too; so, plenty of reasons for Rhys to keep his grades up on his own.
“
Hello! Earth to Rhys! You going to stand around all day, or you gonna drag us off to class before the last bell rings?”
Rolling his eyes, Rhys slapped his locker shut before turning around. For a moment, he just looked at his friend, wondering again just how he managed to befriend Steven Geraint. More accurately, how had Rhys managed to pick up a friendship that had been left off when he’d moved away ten years ago, and the intervening time had changed the two of them in multiple ways? Steven was five ten, very lean on muscles, had sandy blond hair and blue eyes. Rhys had six inches on him, was more muscular without being bulky, and had messy, close cut dark hair. The closest they came on physical appearance was their eyes, but even then, it still showed difference. The blue of Rhys’ eyes was shot through with violet, a trademark of his family; all three of his brothers had the blue-violet Hunter eyes too. Melody looked like she could be Matt’s twin, except that she had Uncle Dean’s light-blue Hawthorn eyes.
Steven was also just
so talkative! He was the only one of Rhys’ childhood friends that was still in town; everyone else had moved or headed off to college already. Rhys was grateful for a friendly face right now; coming back to Orange Cove after everything that had happened in the last six months wasn’t an easy move, and having some of the old crowd to fall back on made things a lot easier. But even so, Rhys had been surprised by how much he’d drawn into himself, a fact that he hadn’t noticed until he’d run into Steven again; Rhys was just about positive that Steven was as chatty as any of the popular girls, he loved some good rumors, and he seemed to get the dirt of what was going on even faster than they did.
Wait, what had Steven been talking about?
Oh yeah, the bell.
“Yeah, whatever. Just get your feet moving already; like you said, we’re going to be late,” Rhys said quickly. Turning down the hall, Rhys started walking, Steven close behind.
Passing by the other classrooms, Rhys saw the other stragglers starting to duck in too. Knowing that the last bell wasn’t that far off, he picked up his pace, taking the corner at a brisk walk. The history classroom was Rhys and Steven’s destination, but they had to stop for a moment as a group raced in front of them, making a bee line for the art room.
Straggling at the back of the pack was a girl Rhys wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t walked right in front of him. She had dark, reddish mahogany hair, and her fingers were long and slim; but beyond that, she was wearing jeans and a long sleeved hoodie with the hood up, so he couldn’t get a better look at her.
Rhys stopped quickly, but she still had to do a sidestep to avoid hitting him. Keeping her eyes on the ground, she hugged her sketchbook tighter to her chest and bobbed her head quickly. “Sorry about that,” she muttered.
“It’s okay; I should have…” he trailed off as she ducked into the art room, never looking up even once. “
Okay… nice to meet you too.”
Steven laughed, a grin sliding across his face. “Man, looks like you shouldn’t talk to the ladies today; that famed Hunter mojo ain’t working for you right now.”
Rhys started walking again, sliding Steven a wry look as he did. “The Hunter mojo?”
“Yeah, that spell you cast on all the girls with those eyes of yours. Haven’t you ever watched Tony in action? And besides, don’t worry about Lily; the Frost girl rarely talks to anyone anyway.”
Rhys stopped with his hand on the door and gave Steven a pointed look. “Why would I have ever seen Tony in action? I’ve only had to live with him for, what is it? Sixteen years now? Why would I know any of my younger brother’s seduction techniques?”
Steven actually shot Rhys an impish look before shoving the door open with his shoulder. “Sarcasm? From you? Never would have expected that one, Hunter!”
Rhys dearly wanted to cuff Steven a good one, but he kept that impulse in check as he made his way to one of the only desks that were still empty, one near the front of the class, while Steven ducked into his chair near the back, slipping into banter with a few other guys almost instantly. Rhys watched them for a moment, and then opened his notebook, intent on getting some more information out of Steven at lunch. For now, it was time to focus on American History.
Hopefully he had an interesting teacher.
~-~-~-~-~-~
Four hours later, and Rhys found himself in the cafeteria, waiting on Steven to get out of his class. Rhys was pretty happy with his teachers so far; Mr. Drake, Rhys’ history teacher, was already shaping up to be a riot, while Ms. Kindred was looking like a promising math teacher. Rhys hoped the twins would be willing to talk to him about their day later; if the sophomore teachers were anything like the ones they had for the seniors, Rhys knew that Tony and Zack would be a bit too busy with schoolwork to pull off
too much mischief.
“Yo, Rhys!”
Rhys looked up from his lunch, catching sight of Steven as he came to a stop next to the table. Giving a lopsided grin, Rhys said, “Took you long enough, man. What’s shaking?”
Steven rolled his eyes from side to side, taking in the cafeteria around them as he said, “Better hope you don’t get Sawyer for lit, Rhys. That class drags on enough as it is, and he makes it just about as interesting as watching paint dry. How’ve you been since I saw you in history?”
“Let’s see, just playing the role of the new kid that’s also from around these parts before he traded North Carolina beaches for Michigan and its freezing ass winters for ten years. How you think I’ve been? It’s been interesting, I’ll give you that much.”
Steven laughed, even though Rhys hadn’t really been going for funny. Plopping down on the bench next to Rhys, Steven commented, “So, other than the new/old kid thing, what’s going on? What’d you say your next class was again?”
Rhys took a drink from his water bottle before replying, “Biology’s my next class, then I’ve got Sawyer. Other than that? Waiting for a certain lazy bones that swore he was going to show me around during lunch. Last time I was in one of the schools here, it was an elementary school; I’d like a guided tour of the high school like you promised.”
Steven waved a hand, already holding his fork as he said, “Sure, sure. Just give me five minutes to grab a bite to eat, okay? I’m starving!”
“You eat like a pig, man! Where the devil do you put it all? I didn’t think your mouth could burn
that many calories by flapping all day!”
Steven, mouth full, contented himself with flipping Rhys the bird, but the two teens soon fell into easy banter as Steven caught Rhys up on who was still in town and where they were at in the social standing of the high school. Rhys honestly didn’t care about what seemed to be a constant war for the top spot of the popularity pyramid, but he didn’t mind talking with Steven about it either.
During a brief lull in the conversation, Rhys’ attention drifted to the windows, noting the green of the trees as their branches swayed in a gentle, early afternoon breeze. He couldn’t wait to get outside; he’d gotten so used to Michigan’s weather starting to do some serious mood swings at this time of year that a gentle fall afternoon had become something of a foreign concept. Rhys couldn’t wait to reacquaint himself with a fall day in Orange Cove.
A flash of red caught Rhys’ attention, drawing his eyes to a table next to the window. Sitting alone at the end nearest the window was the girl that had almost run into him before his history class earlier. She had the hood of her shirt down, letting the sun give her red hair golden highlights. Her lunch was on the table a little to the left of her, but she hadn’t touched it. She seemed too intent on the sketchbook sitting right in front of her, a pencil held in a gloved hand as she etched away at whatever it was she was drawing, looking out the window every now and then to check something outside before she went back to her sketch.
Rhys couldn’t see much of her face, but the flashes of what he could see seemed to hold a kind of reticence and sadness that Rhys felt from across the room. He was probably imagining it, he knew that. But at the same time, those emotions were so familiar to him as of late that he was almost as sure that it
wasn’t his imagination.
“Hey, you ready to go? We’ve still got about a half-hour before bio; I could show you a couple places before the bell rings.”
Rhys blinked, looking at Steven in mild confusion before he remembered what they’d been talking about before. Rhys flicked his eyes back to the table with its solitary occupant sketching away silently before he turned to look back at Steven again. “Yeah,” Rhys said, collecting himself mentally. “Yeah, let’s go.”