Waken (The Woods of Everod Book 1) Page 7

  The kitchen was quiet as I poured a bowl of cereal. I sat at the table munching the sweet granola, trying to piece together the new Janie.

  “Hey, sweetheart,” Tim said, rubbing his hand briskly across the top of my head. I shifted out from under his hand and smoothed down my hair. “Heading for the library today?”

  How predictable was I? “Umm, no. I think I might try something new.”

  “Really? Like what?” There went his eyebrow, soaring almost to the missing hairline on his baldhead.

  “Oh, I don’t know...” I tried to think of what there was to do in Everod. Apart from the library, the diner, and hiking I didn’t know what else there was. It was too easy to slip backward. “Maybe I’ll go to the gym with Justin.”

  “Wow!” His other eyebrow shot up. “You know...you could come with me down to Durango. I’m meeting with a biologist to take a tour of the Lake Nighthorse area.”

  “No, thanks.” Spending the day with Tim on a shoot was even less appealing than going to the gym.

  I changed again, this time into jogging shorts and a t-shirt. Justin drove to the gym and the skeptical stares he kept throwing my way eventually drove me crazy.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked as he pulled into a parking space.

  “You seriously going in there?”

  “Yeah. Is that going to be a problem?”

  “No, it’s just...have you ever been to a gym before?”

  I rolled my eyes. “They did have some equipment for girls at the high school back in Dallas.”

  “All right,” he said.

  The inside of the gym was smaller than I’d anticipated. In the center was a caged off boxing ring. Off to one side were floor mats and the other sides of the cage were edged with racks of free weights. In the far back corner stood two lone treadmills. The place was empty except for the smiling girl behind the counter.

  “Hey, J! What’s up, boy?”

  “Lee-sa!” Justin and the girl gave each other some strange version of a homeboy handshake. I watched the exchange in fascination. She was definitely not Justin’s type. Yeah, she was tall and reed thin, but that’s where similarities to his usual type ended. Her hair, cut short in the back, was long in the front and her vibrant pink bangs swept across her left eye. The one visible eye was adorned by an eyebrow ring, which matched the one piercing her nose.

  “Boy, are you stepping out on me?”

  “Not a chance, baby.” He laughed and gave her a playful kiss. “Lisa, this is my sister Janie. Janie, this is Lisa. She runs the place.”

  “Sister? Justin, the two of you look nothing alike. If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was Kyle’s sister.” Her eyes narrowed as she studied me.

  “Stepsister,” he clarified.

  “Ah, well, come on girl, let me show you around.”

  The tour only took a couple of minutes and ended with the women’s locker room. I stowed my bag in one of the lockers and then headed for the treadmill. I’d only been on a few minutes when guys began pouring through the door. Various ages, they gathered around the cage, their voices blending. I pulled my iPod from my pocket and increased the volume.

  After a few laps around my imaginary track, I looked back up at the ring to see Kyle step into the cage, his fists wrapped with tape. Across from him was Tristan. My heart skipped a beat. The two began circling each other. Tristan’s fist jabbed out, barely missing Kyle’s face as he bounced out of the way. That opened up a barrage of punches that they threw at each other. Tristan landed a few, but he was taking the brunt of them. Kyle was obviously more skilled.

  Music blocked out any sound of impact, but through the way he winced and hunched to the left, protecting his ribs, I could feel the pain of each hit. The space between them closed, until they pushed away from each other. Both of them were bobbing and weaving on their feet. Suddenly Kyle’s foot swung up, smashing into the side of Tristan’s head. My eyes locked on his face as he fell to the floor of the cage.

  He rolled backward and onto his feet. He circled the cage, dragging in deep breaths, letting his mouth guard pop out the slightest bit so he could breathe easier. Suddenly he lunged forward and grabbed Kyle, throwing him over his shoulder. Kyle landed on his back, but just as quickly, he was up and wrapped around Tristan’s back, his arm locked about Tristan’s throat in a type of chokehold. Tristan fell backward to the floor, landing on Kyle, but it did nothing to ease the hold Kyle had on him. Seconds later, he tapped his hand on Kyle’s arm and it was over.

  I heaved a sigh of relief that they were done, but grimaced as I took in the damage they’d done to each other. Both of them were covered in blood, red swelling already visible across their faces and chests. They disappeared into the men’s locker room and I slowed the treadmill to a walk. I wanted to leave before Tristan saw me. I didn’t want him to think I was stalking him. Taking me to the campfire had been sweet of him, but I couldn’t let myself believe it meant anything and I refused to let him think I did.

  After a short shower, I told Justin I’d meet him at the library. Moving toward the exit, I spotted Tristan standing around the ring watching another couple of guys fighting, their speed rivaling Tristan and Kyle. He glanced over at me and our eyes met. My skin broke out in bumps and my pulse quickened. He smiled slightly and took a step toward me before giving me a wave and turning back to the ring.

  So much for facing my fears, I thought as I walked from the gym to the library. I should have at least gone over and said hi. It wouldn’t have been that hard. I’d done it before.

  I stared at the library doors. However, what had once been my sanctuary now seemed boring and lifeless. The large wooden building didn’t hold what I wanted - Tristan. I forced myself forward, telling myself you can’t always get what you want. What I found just inside the door was definitely not what I wanted.

  Rachel.

  She stood with her back to me, talking adamantly with Ms. Markov. Maybe there was some way to salvage the friendship we’d started. I’d actually been looking forward to having a girl friend.

  “Rach,” I cleared my throat and waited until she looked at me. “Can I talk to you? After you’re done, I mean?”

  She didn’t answer right away, glancing first at Ms. Markov’s impassive face, then said, “By the study tables.”

  I nodded and went through the revolving metal entry. I sat at the table watching Rachel and the librarian as their conversation grew heated. Finally, Rachel stomped towards me, disregarding the quiet policy of the building.

  She slumped into the seat across from me, hostility darkening her eyes.

  “What do you want, Janie?”

  “I...I just wanted to know if you were okay.”

  “Okay? No, I’m not okay. You think you can just slide in here and take him from me. Well, that’s not the way things work around here. You have no clue what this town is about.” She pointed her finger in my face. “Tristan is mine, so I suggest you keep to your plan and leave at the end of summer. There’s nothing here for you.”

  “I’m not trying to take him from you! He just gave me a ride. That’s it. We’re not dating or anything.”

  Her eyes called me a liar and my heart echoed it. If he asked, I would date him, regardless of Rachel’s feelings.

  “Get out of Everod. We don’t need you destroying our town.”

  “What are you talking about?” My voice rose matching hers in frustration. I’d expected some anger from her, but this was a little much. Why would she even think I would or could destroy Everod?

  “Your parents left for a reason, Janie. They didn’t want you in Everod. They didn’t want you at all.” She smiled viciously as the blood drained from my face. “I can’t believe I even tried to be friends with you. Your own father couldn’t stand the sight of you.”

  The hate-filled words poured so easily from her lips that I sat in shock. I couldn’t speak. That she would throw them in my face went far below where I thought a person could sink. My fingers gripped the edge of the
table, digging my nails into the wood surface painfully. She stood up, giving me one last glance, her eyes filled with something other than the hatred of her words. I didn’t want to know what it was.

  She walked away then. Just turned her back on me and I was alone again. Worse than that, I was alone and it wasn’t because I chose to be. I truly did want to be friends. For five days, I had thought I could be normal. Humiliation and bile scorched my throat.

  The air in the library was stagnant, thick with dust, adding to my nausea. I barely made it to the restroom before what little food I’d eaten came back up. I rinsed my mouth and stared at the reflection in the mirror.

  The girl looking back was the old Janie. Not so old. I didn’t want to be her. She was pale and frightened of what was outside that door, what was in the world beyond her hiding spot.

  I slammed open the restroom door and went straight for the stairs and down to the media room. A light layer of dust dulled the lines I had traced on the piano a week ago. I sat on the bench and raised the lid. My hands clenched. Anger, frustration, hurt, all boiled inside me. Raising my fists, I smashed them down on the keys. The horrible discord echoed through the room. I lifted my fists and hit the keys again. Resting my head on the top of the piano, I wished I could release the emotions raging in me as easily as I could render the notes.

  I wouldn’t play. I couldn’t. It would only be a representation of them, or me being a victim. Closing the lid on the keys, my hands smoothed along the surface erasing any last trace of dust. I wouldn’t let that be me.

  Later that night, I curled up on the porch swing, enjoying the gentle warmth of the early evening. The sun began to fade behind the mountains, painting the sky in brilliant hues of purple and blue. With Tim out of the house, I hadn’t been forced to exile myself in town for the rest of the day and Justin was at a basketball game with some of the guys, leaving me with only the silence of the empty house.

  I leaned back and stared up at the turbulent clouds. It looked like we’d be getting a storm tonight. A perfect match for my mood. The confrontation with Rachel still had me upset.

  She knew how to fight dirty. Her words had been such a jumble of vicious facts and veiled threats. The comments about my parents had been designed to hurt, but what she’d said about the town was just confusing. As for Tristan being hers, well, if she was going to start that war, then I wasn’t going to lie down and let her walk over me to get him.

  My skin tingled and I shivered. The crunching of gravel brought my eyes down from the clouds above. Tristan walked up the drive, as if conjured by my thoughts.

  I straightened on the seat and ran my hand through my hair. He stopped at the base of the steps, smiling broadly.

  “Hey,” he said and leaned against the supporting column. “So, did I totally humiliate myself?”

  “What?”

  “Well, not many guys want a girl to see them lose a fight.”

  “No, you guys were amazing. It was like watching a live UFC match.”

  “When you left without saying anything I thought you might be mad I hadn’t called.”

  “Oh, no. I didn’t really think you would. Call I mean.”

  “Why would you think that?”

  I shrugged a shoulder, too embarrassed to tell him that guys never called me.

  “Well, I planned to, but I got wrapped up in some family stuff.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, turning to look at a small calico cat that meandered into the yard. Winding its way between and around his feet Tristan knelt down and gave it a gentle push, murmuring softly. The cat pierced me with its black eyes before suddenly racing across the street.

  “Will you walk with me?” His smile grew hesitant.

  I nodded and rose to meet him at the bottom of the steps. Neither of us spoke, only the barking of the neighborhood dogs broke the quiet. His warmth spread from his palm on my back through my entire body. We reached the end of the block and crossed the deserted street to enter the park. Sitting in a swing, I pushed off with my foot, setting myself in motion. As I swayed back and forth, he grabbed the chains of the next swing watching me.

  “Do you fight like that often?” I asked.

  “The guys around town meet up once a month for a fight day. Today was my first fight, although Kyle’s been up a few times. We’ve been training for a few months.”

  I studied his features not finding any evidence of the fight. I’d seen some of the UFC fight that Justin always begged Tim to order on pay-per-view and most of the fighters came out looking pretty rough afterward. He smiled at my scrutiny.

  “It always looks worse than it really is.” He looked away and quickly shifted topics. “What’s your favorite fruit?”

  “My favorite fruit?” The randomness of the question threw me off. “Are you serious?”

  “Yeah, I’m serious. I want to get to know you. What you like, what you don’t like. I want to know…everything.” He let go of his swing and moved in front of me. As I rocked forward, he placed his hands over mine and tugged the chains, drawing me closer to him. “There’s something about you that won’t let me walk away. Maybe it’s the way you duck your head when I look at you, or the wild chase you led me on at the library.”

  My breathing faltered at his words. His fingers tightened over mine for just a moment before he continued, “So yeah, I want to know what your favorite movie is, what kind of ice cream you like, how you decide who to talk to. Everything.”

  “All right,” I agreed, “But you have to answer all of the same questions.”

  “Deal,” he replied.

  “Apples.”

  “Mango. Song?”

  I shook my head. “There’s too many to pick.”

  “Come on, you agreed.”

  “Okay, I guess Ho Hey by The Lumineers.”

  “Sabotage by the Beastie Boys. Favorite movie?”

  “Gone with the Wind.”

  “Dracula.”

  I laughed. “Really?”

  “What? Bela Lugosi was genius.”

  “I just didn’t take you for a vampire kind of guy, that’s all,” I said between giggles.

  “You’d be surprised.” His eyes narrowed and, in a horrible Dracula imitation, said, “I vant to suck your blood.”

  “You know Bela Lugosi never really said that, right?”

  “A girl who knows Lugosi? I think I’m in love.”

  I laughed even harder. But my laughter ended abruptly when, with a predatory smile, he jerked the swing and brought his face to within an inch of mine. Our breath mingled between us into a single cloud and I could taste his minty toothpaste in the air. His lips relaxed, and he closed the small gap slowly and pressed his lips to mine.

  The park faded away. Mrs. Perkins’s dogs no longer barked ceaselessly and the air turned as hot as a Texas summer day. The pressure was tentative, as if he was giving me a chance to pull away, but I didn’t want tentative or careful. I wanted to get closer, to wrap myself around him, to lose myself in this moment where no one else existed except the two of us. I tried raising my hands, wanting to entangle them in his thick curls and pull him closer, but his hands were locked over mine, refusing to let me go. Gently, he drew away, catching my lower lip between his teeth, tugging slightly before releasing me. He rested his forehead against mine and closed his beautiful blue eyes, hiding his thoughts.

  “Ice cream,” he whispered.

  “What?” I whispered back, afraid that if I asked too loudly I’d break whatever magical spell was at work and he would disappear, leaving me alone again.

  He let go of my hands and I glided backwards, the cool nighttime air rushing to fill the space between us. “Your favorite ice cream,” he said, giving me a gentle push as I rocked forward.

  “Amaretto.”

  “Vanilla. How do you pick who to talk to?”

  “It’s completely random.”

  “It’s entirely predetermined.” He smiled crookedly.

  “So you believe in fate?” I asked before he could
throw another question between us.

  He looked at me for a long moment, as if he were debating his answer. “In some cases, yes. But I don’t believe that everything is set in stone.” He pulled me forward for a brief kiss before letting me float away again. “I have to believe that the decisions we make can change our fate.”

  I wanted to know what he meant, but he asked the next question. The game continued with us laughing at some of the surprising answers we gave each other. Every burden, every fear, I’d had since I was five was gone, vanquished by this mysterious boy. It wasn’t just the attraction I felt for him physically, it was the way he looked at me when I spoke to him, with his blue eyes that made me believe he wanted me to keep talking; that what I said to him was being absorbed and treasured.

  We stayed there in the park telling each other the miniscule details that made us. Part of me had worried the handsome exterior was all there was, that when I got to know him I’d find nothing but an empty smile. Instead, I found someone who smirked rather than belted out laughter, who believed in fate and God and watched basketball faithfully, who liked biology and knew more history than the most dedicated high school student.

  “College?” he continued questioning.

  “Ugh. Don’t ask that, please.”

  “Why n…” His voice faded and he cocked his head to the side, staring at something behind me.

  “What’s wrong?”

  He didn’t say anything, instead he stopped my swing and grabbed my hand, forcing me to follow him or risk landing on my face. He walked through the park quickly and I stumbled over the uneven ground. I glanced back trying to see what had spurred our sudden departure, but except for a flash of white in the trees, I saw nothing. Finally, he slowed enough for me to catch my footing then tugged my hand again.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. He kept moving, his long strides forcing me to jog beside him. “Did you see something?”

  “Kas. He was watching us.”

  “The wolf?” Did they really come this far into town?

  “Yeah, well. Kas is more than just a wolf.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked as we reached the house.