Molly
Willow brushes the eraser traces from her paper and smiles happily, looking from me to Joe and back. I was pleasantly surprised when Joe decided to pull his drawing table next to ours, and we rearranged ourselves so that he and Willow now faced each other, with me between them, facing the windows. The perfect set-up for some companionable afternoon sketching during the last period of the day.
I'm not entirely sure what inspired Joe to join us. He's been talking to me a lot more since I joined them at the bench for lunch on Monday. It's almost as if being dragged there by Paisley and hand-fed by Tanner gave me some kind of stamp of approval. Joe and I used to talk to each other in class occasionally or when I ran into him visiting Ronan at his apartment, but I wouldn't have called us friends as such. We've always been comfortable in each other's company, though it just became more so these last couple of days.
It could, of course, also be because I talked with Paisley a lot more in the few classes we had together today, and I never realised before that they sit together in most classes they share and are clearly good friends.
Looking at Willow's smile, I'm once again struck by how wrong first impressions can be. Spending time with her in Design on Monday and yesterday in PE, and now again, I'm starting to really see her and I like her.
I still think she's a bit too tightly wound and overly proper and has clearly watched My Fair Lady one time too many. When she opens her mouth, I always expect her to say: 'The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain' in a high-class British way, and I am a bit disappointed when it doesn't happen.
But she is kind and gentle and can be quite feisty on occasion when it is required; I also suspect that she might hold the trophy in some sarcasm championships. She is very different in the sole company of girls. When they're being rude or bitchy, she speaks her mind clearly and concisely in a very impressive imitation of Nanny McPhee teaching naughty children to say please.
It works like a charm; it causes even me to behave.
If you want to see a rather accurate rendition of an Armadillo in self-defence mode, you only have to bring an unknown boy into the conversation. Willow doesn't physically roll herself into a ball, but her whole personality does. She becomes very quiet, staring at them as if they're nasty apparitions that require some dissecting before she'll be able to decide how to deal with them.
She clearly doesn't have a high opinion of boys, well, at least not until she gets to know them a little. She is treating Joe very differently from how she treats the other boys in our Design class. Joe has clearly passed the Willow test. I wonder what happened in her life for her to be so suspicious of all males.
"What do you think?" she asks, lifting her drawing in front of her chest. "Is it better now?"
"I-it looks really... g-great," Joe says, smiling too. I'm glad that he is starting to feel comfortable enough to talk to us spontaneously. When he first moved over, he just smiled and nodded a lot, but he is beginning to warm up more and more. He's never been a talker, and I doubt that it's something that will ever change, and that is just fine. If everybody on this planet were talkers, nobody would ever get a word in. The world would be a very noisy place, and nobody would be listening.
The boy has a habit of fading in and out of existence, often disappearing into a world only he knows about, but when he decides to surface, he is quite witty and interesting to talk to.
"T-there's a n-nice line... for the eye to f-follow now and the sh-shape here... b-brings it back into the d-drawing well..."
I listen to Joe discussing Willow's design with her, giving her more tips and advice in his slow, patient way. He is one of the most talented students in our class, always quietly sitting in a corner, entirely focused on the graphical masterpieces he creates.
I'm distracted this afternoon; there are no graphical masterpieces in my immediate future. My eyes are constantly straying to the rain-soaked bleachers in the distance. The rain has let up with plenty of promise for more to follow soon, but for now, the world is sparkling in the abused sunlight, clean and fresh.
The bleachers seem so small from up here, but they played such a huge role in my life earlier today.
When I could no longer stand seeing Tanner getting rained on, I manoeuvred myself out of the protective cave he had me trapped in, grabbed the sleeve of his sweater and ran to the nearest corridor with him in tow. It was partially to save him from getting too wet, but it was also because I was becoming way too aware of the raindrops clinging to his long eyelashes, his slightly parted lips, and the subtle fragrance of his cologne or body wash, or whatever it was that was gradually making me lean into him.
Hey, I may not like the guy, but I'm not blind or lacking in hormones or female fancies. I found his proximity dangerously enticing... and he wasn't even feeding me at the time. I think Tanner might only be safe around me if he's in the process of stuffing food into my mouth.
We were laughing and gasping and shivering by the time we reached cover, and I nearly fainted when he used his free hand to brush droplets from my hair. We received so many strange looks when he did that, but he seemed to be oblivious to it. Then again, he's never really cared what people say or think about him, which is why he drives haters up the wall. He shrugs off unfavourable opinions like water from a duck.
I was relieved and, to be honest, slightly depressed when the bell rang, and we went our separate ways after he made me promise to stop by the bench tomorrow, at least briefly, whether there were females present or not.
Why is he being so sweet?
I get that he likes my feedback on his food, but he doesn't have to do sweet things to me, like protecting me from the rain or carrying me on his back. He is not a sweet guy! He is a player! A stubborn, arrogant, cocky player. I've never seen him hang out with any decent girls before. In fact, the only girls I ever see him with, besides Paisley, are the kind you wouldn't bring home to Mama.
I always thought he was highly volatile, getting into fights all the time, especially with Hunter. They're almost always scuffling when I see them together. He also often hangs out with Galen on weekends, drinking and smoking or messing around with terrible girls, when they're not with Candy.
From my bedroom window, I have a nice view of the footpath leading up to Haunted Hill, and I sometimes see him wander up there with Galen. He invariably shows up all scraped up at school after I'd seen them together the day before. I have no idea what they get up to, and I've never cared before.
Why do I suddenly care now?
I know all of this, so who is the guy I had so much fun with today during lunch? Who is the guy who tried to protect me against the rain and risked his bones carrying me down from the bleachers? I don't like what is happening in my chest whenever he levels those limpid pewter eyes on me... or smiles... or even worse, touches me.
"Say, Joe, Willow, you guys are pretty close with Tanner, right?" It is time for some informative investigation, and I have two very reliable sources right at hand. Paisley would probably have been a much better source, but I simply couldn't bring myself to speak to her about her cousin.
"Yes," Joe says, looking at me with way too much interest now.
"Perhaps, I'm not entirely sure," Willow answers, looking slightly uncomfortable with the question.
I find it heart-warming that neither of them seems to be eager to talk about their friend behind his back. It's a quality I've come to appreciate wholeheartedly, but I need information now; I'm not looking for malicious gossip. I need to preserve myself, and there is a lot of me to preserve.
"It's nothing," I try to reassure them, "I'm just wondering..." So, what exactly am I wondering? "Well... he is a bit of a rogue, isn't he?"
"No."
"Perhaps, I'm not entirely sure."
"And he has no conscience," I state.
"No, he h-has one."
"I'm not entirely sure."
Oh, my soul! Worst investigative resources ever! They're really not giving anything away.
"Well, this is very helpful; thank you so much, both of you, especially you, Willow."
"My apologies," Willow says, but she doesn't look very apologetic; she looks a little suspicious. "I've only known him for about a week now; I'm really not certain about anything," she explains, and she has a good point.
"That's true," I decide to let her off the hook for now and turn my attention to Joe instead. "You've known him much, much longer, Joe; I always thought he was bullying you," I tell him, and he gives an incredulous laugh.
"He d-doesn't bully p-people. He is much more... c-committed, he b-beats them up... c-completely, but... only if they really... p-piss him off. I a-answered your questions. He's not a r-rogue... and he has a c-conscience."
Apparently, I struck a nerve because sweet-natured Joe is glaring at me now, and I didn't know he was capable of glaring.
"Relax, I'm not trying to bad-mouth the guy or something, Joe. I'm just curious and a little nervous. For some reason, I've become the culinary muse of the god of cuisine, and I have no idea what to make of it or how to handle it. I'm just trying to figure him out to know what I should do."
"Easy," Joe grins. "J-just open your m-mouth wide and s-say... more, please."
I'm startled when Willow bursts into laughter on my other side. "That is absolutely what I would do, Molly," she agrees.
"Though that sounds like good advice since the things he feeds me all come straight from Mount Olympus, made by the hands of virgin Nymphs -" No, I really don't know much about Greek mythology, so I cannot say whether that is actually a thing or not, but the description fits, so, I'm going with it. "- I'm not sure I can trust him enough to do something like that. I'm still not convinced that this is not just some elaborate joke from his side to play with me for a bit."
The fact that I'm comfortable enough to state my fears out loud like this is testimony to the level of trust I'm starting to feel towards Willow and Joe. I hope it is not misplaced trust, but I also believe that investigators need to give something of themselves in order to get something from the people they are interviewing.
"Tan's not like that," Joe says, and he's not even stuttering now; his eyes look straight into mine, his expression filled with determination.
Until Monday, I had no idea that the two of them were even friends. I'm starting to feel rather curious about the origin of this friendship. They're not in the same grade, and the only sport Joe plays is tennis. Tanner doesn't play tennis; he is a rugby jock, and he's on the swim team. It is possible that Joe joined their circle through a mutual friend like Ronan or Kyle, perhaps even Paisley. I am very surprised to hear him defend Tanner like this.
It seems that Briar Cove has a whole sub-community life that I have not been aware of. I'm intrigued, and I want to find out more. I've dreamed of becoming an investigative journalist since I read my first The Adventures of Tintin graphical novel.
Where better to start honing my skills than by getting the inside scoop on the rag-tag group of misfits, hunks and heroes that gather at the bench during lunchtime?
"Thank you, Joe; I feel a little better now," I smile, finding his earnest expression slightly unsettling. I'm relieved when he grins and picks up his pencil. With his friend's reputation defended, he is again ready for creativity. I turn to see what Willow is up to and find her looking rather pensive. She finds my eyes on her and smiles.
"I agree with Joe. Tanner says and does many strange things, but he is rather kind in his own way, and I believe that he is sincere in that kindness."
Vivid memories of his body blocking the rain from me, of bouncing along on his back, of my mother smiling serenely while she ate the soup he heated up for her, run through my mind like a slideshow on repeat.
"You may be right," I smile, my eyes again drifting to the bleachers glistening in the cloud-filtered sunlight.
But it makes no sense.
♫
Tanner
When school let out, the five of us (Hunter, Dex, Kyle, Joe and I) gathered out of sight near the school gates as ordered by Hunter. Well, he didn't order; he asked, but when he asks stuff, it always feels like I really don't have any choice in the matter.
Paise says I'm full of shit, 'Hunny' never orders anything but food, and that Jake is the one always giving orders. She says I feel like Hunter is ordering me around because I have a natural instinct to want to be his willing slave.
Paisley secretly smokes her socks; she doesn't know dick!
She's right about Jake, though; he does like giving orders. Hell knows why we're always obeying them. Probably because he usually knows what he's talking about and thinks things through from all angles before he decides, so we'd be stupid not just to do what he tells us to do.
If Jake were here right now, he'd tell us to stop being idiots and go home. He's not here, so we're going to be idiots and do what Hunter asks us to do instead.
Hunter wanted us to hang around casually until that cheeky little kid, Eddie, left the schoolyard, and now we're supposed to follow him unobtrusively. How the hell does he think we're being inconspicuous when he is greeting everybody in sight as if he's a presidential candidate on a vote-collecting tour?
I cannot believe Dex is not talking sense into the moron's head. Dex is normally such a well-grounded, sensible guy, but unfortunately, his instinct to be Hunter's willing slave probably runs way deeper than mine.
We've finally run out of people for the arsehole to greet and are just plodding along slowly, following Eddie at a distance. That distance keeps growing because we have to hang back and wait for Kyle every few steps, and we haven't even hit that horrible hill ahead yet.
Please explain to me how five guys can stalk one kid down an open road without him noticing. I'm also still not clear on why we've taken up this new hobby.
"No, hell, sorry! You arseholes are cray! I cannot go another step; please just leave me here to die!" That is how we know we've finally reached the hill, which is starting to become steep. Kyle is doubled over, struggling to breathe, sweating like we're taking a hike through a desert in the middle of summer. He really needs to lay off Granny Dough's doughnuts and come out from behind his computer more.
By the way, Granny Dough is a big, bearded man in his early forties called Arthur who bakes the most amazing cakes and... well, doughnuts. Cannot really blame Kyle for his addiction. We occasionally drag him out of his high-tech haven, dump him in the ocean, roll him around on the beach, and stampede him along one of the many walkways we like to use.
Hunter calls it swimming, playing and hiking, but come on; those are just friendly words to say that we sometimes get concerned about Kyle and try to torture him into a healthier lifestyle.
Hunter is kneeling in front of him now, offering him his back for a ride up the hill.
"What?! Get yo' crazy white ass out of my face before I fudge yo' up, Mofo!" Sometimes, Kyle randomly likes to imitate some racist gangster he'd seen in a comedy movie years ago. For some reason, the guy left a huge impression on him, but he cannot quite bring himself to use the swear words that character threw around like grass seeds.
Hearing him say his highly sanitized versions of stupid shit like that in a weird accent is hilarious coming from a guy squinting through thick glasses. Kyle has a heart of gold in that heavily padded chest of his.
His impression of Samuel L Jackson yelling PG-rated, context-adjusted versions of: "I've had it with these mofo snakes on this mofo plane" also always cracks me up every time. He replaces the words snakes and plane with what fits any current situation, and he always makes it work.
"There's no way I'm getting on your back!" he protests, unfolding himself, trying to dodge past Hunter.
"Come on, Ahmi, stop bitching and just get on; we're going to lose Eddie," I can see that Kyle really wants to be carried right now; the dude is suffering, but he wants to be convinced a little more to save his dignity. I can see another please-help-me-get-fit rant loading, and Hunter is right; we're about to lose Eddie.
The boy is like a chubby jackrabbit, almost sprinting up the hill. I grab Kyle from behind and physically give him all the convincing and help he could possibly need to get onto Hunter's back. We'll just deal with his unhealthy lack of even basic fitness later.
"Stop touching my butt, Trent, you friggin' pervert!" That loosely translates to thank you.
"You're welcome, Buddy."
"I'm gonna whoop yo' ass!"
"I can hardly wait."
Kyle is laughing now, making the hoisting operation a lot more tricky than it has to be, but with a little bit of help from Dex, he is finally in place.
"Dammit, Drake! You cannot carry me up a hill; I weigh more than you!"
Hunter, Dex, Ash, Jake, me... pretty much all of us have carried Kyle up some hill or another in the many years we've been friends; what the hell is he on about now?
Hunter snorts, shaking his head. "Have you met Coach Taylor?" he asks, and I can see that Kyle is confused now. Usually, Hunter just tells him to stop jiggling around, shut up and hang on. And on occasion, there's a healthy dose of 'get your bloody fingers out of my ribs!' thrown in there as well.
"He means Coach makes us run laps carrying each other on our backs. Hunter's got you. You know he does. Now, stop being a whiny bitch and just go with it," I explain sweetly, wondering why this is even necessary.
Are we going to pretend that we're not forced to listen to Kyle at least once a week lamenting his lack of fitness and his intense desire to be more active so that he can keep up during fun activities like playing laser tag, having mud fights and trying to drown each other in the pool? His resolve usually lasts about 13 hours; then it's back to munching doughnuts while playing online games or writing slightly dodgy apps.
"W-what's the p-plan if there's going to be a f-fight?" Joe wants to know, and I'm starting to think I'm the only one who doesn't know what's going on here.
"Wait! There's gonna be a fight?" I cannot really imagine a scenario where we'll get into a fight with Eddie, but if we do, even Joe will be able to take him. But why the hell will we even want to fight a 13-year-old? Sure, the dude is seriously cheeky, but that's why it's fun having him around.
"The lad is covered in bruises, and there seemed to be fresh ones today that weren't there yesterday, so... we don't know what we might run into," Dex informs me, and I think I get it now.
So, that's why the little guy hasn't been quite as mouthy as I'm used to.
Well, fine, but I still think we're the worst stalkers in the history of stalking and that Eddie must be a bit dense not to know that we're following him.
"If there's a fight, Tan and I will handle it. You guys get Eddie out of the way," Hunter volunteers my services for me, totally giving orders again, but now that I know what this weird-ass mission is about, I don't mind being ordered around by him so much anymore.
"Dang, Dude! What the hell did you bring me along for?" Kyle asks, huffing and puffing as if he's the one trotting up a hill, carrying Hunter on his back and not the other way around. "I'm useless in a fight unless it's online, and I can use my super pow-wow slamming punch on the bastard's ass."
"You can always just fart in the attacker's direction; it has the same effect as being hit by a super pow-whatchamacallit punch," I tell Kyle truthfully, and now he's grinning proudly, his teeth standing out white and straight in his round face. Kyle has the best orthodontist money can buy. His teeth are a thing of envy.
"Yeah, Bro, that is my superpower!" He's not wrong to be proud. Kyle's farts are epic!
"Please wait until you're off my back before you go all super Saiyan on someone with your radio-active farts," Hunter begs, and I feel the guy. "You'll be our witness and get your dad if stuff goes south. I don't know our POA yet because I don't know what's going on. Figured it best to cover all the basis; that's why you're all here."
This 'all' excludes Jake, who had to drop off Paisley and get to work; Ash, who's dropping Willow off and going to the gym to stand in for Coach, and Ronan, who is on duty at his father's shop.
Ro was all for ditching his duties and come-a-stalking with his mates, but we all know what his father's wrath can be like, and we like Ronan, so... no. I wish they were here because I think stuff is going south already. In fact, it's probably scattering in all four cardinal directions right now.
Hunter had a look on his face as if someone had peed against his leg when Willow said goodbye to everybody and got on the back of Ash's bike without so much as a glance in his direction. She actually went to a lot of effort to completely avoid looking at him.
At first, I thought she might still be having sob attacks each time she saw his face, but she was blushing and uncomfortable, not all teary-eyed with wobbly smiles.
I really want to know what the hell happened after I left the house this morning. I handed over a perfectly happy, heart-wide-open, somewhat tear-damaged girl to the guy; what the hell did he do to turn her against him in just a few minutes?
The dude sure has skills!
Her not wanting to speak to him is definitely a step in the wrong direction. Even a self-absorbed idiot can tell that the two of them are mad for each other. They're starting to make me mad too. Maybe I should just start dating Willow to wake Hunter up.
Great plan! What could possibly go wrong?!
We finally make it up the hill, and Hunter lets Kyle off his back so that we can sneak (if sneaking can be described as grunting and crashing and generally being super noisy) single-file through some thick shrubs in a hidden pathway into which we saw Eddie divert. The pathway is overgrown, running behind some buildings. I've lived in Briar Cove forever and used some pretty obscure routes to get around, but I've never seen this one.
Where the hell is the kid leading us?
Three, I count exactly three warning raindrops and then the showers open. It's coming down fast and heavy, chased by loud thunderclaps. Shit! I pull off my blazer and hold it over Joe's head, forcing him to take it when he refuses.
"Dude, seriously! What do you think I prefer, getting rained on or rushing to the hospital when your asthma gets triggered? Just take the bloody thing."
Raindrops hitting the ground break clumps of pollen into smaller particles, which quickly spread out, and because of that, Joe's allergic asthma symptoms increase very suddenly and severely during rain showers, especially heavy downpours like this one. We're on a muddy footpath filled with plants; I'm not going to wait and see what happens; he has already used his pump once since we entered the path. The previous shower might've minimized the danger this one could bring, but it's not worth taking the risk.
Dust, strong wind, rain, smoke, any of those can cause Joe's asthma to get out of hand. I've once seen him battle with his pump, unable to open his lungs, desperately gasping for air, his lips turning blue.
I don't ever want to see that again!
"Thanks," Joe is not an idiot; he takes the blazer and protects his head and face as much as possible.
"There," Dex says, pointing at an awning at the back of a building, starting a little further down the path, and we all rush over to it. We wait in the shelter for a few minutes, all of us keeping an eye on Joe, but he seems to be doing fine now.
Seriously, our level of worst stalkers ever seems to be increasing by the minute.
"So, where's Eddie?" I ask since not even Hunter is watching the path now; he is looking from Kyle to Joe and back, trying to assess which one of them will be the first to collapse.
"Shit! Wait here for a bit," he suggests - but I'm pretty sure it was another order - and runs off down the path. Not a good idea when we don't know what we're dealing with. The rain is wild. He comes to a skidding stop a few steps from us, ducking behind some shrubs. He seems to be looking attentively at something out of sight, and then he's running back to where we're huddling together under the awning like a brood of hens caught in a storm.
To be honest, I enjoyed huddling with Molly a lot more, even if that shelter was pretty much non-existent and I got drenched. Hunter gives me an odd look, smiling a bit lopsidedly, probably not understanding my joy to see him. My wide, memory-inspired smile is not aimed at him.
"There's a sharp drop down to a paved backyard over there. Eddie's there, and he's not alone. We need to move right now!"
♫
Willow
Of course, nobody's home when I unlock the front door and step inside the cold house, quietly waiting for everybody to return and give it life again. I knew it would be empty, but I was still disappointed. There was a text message earlier, letting us know that our parents were stopping for lunch at a beautiful orchard and should be home around 6pm and not to worry about cooking dinner because they'll pick up something along the way.
I felt slightly deflated when Asher simply dropped me off and waited for me to enter the yard and lock the gate behind me before he left. I knew he had to get to the gym to lead the afternoon training sessions, but still, I would've loved to get to know him a little bit better too. Being with Tanner yesterday opened up a whole new world of friendship possibilities for me. If I can become friends with Asher, I might be able to support Paisley more.
Now that I know how much she loves him, I can only imagine how much pain the possibility of losing Asher is causing her. I want to slide into despair just thinking about Hunter leaving, and I've only known him for a week, not most of my life.
Hunter...
I shan't be surprised if he packs up and leaves at record-breaking speed now that I've just blurted my feelings out to him like that. 'You're the only boy I want to kiss.'
What got into me?!
Whatever happened to just loving him in secret, becoming his friend, and taking care of him? Well, it led to a kiss, which was already bad enough, but to actually say that to him! I'm so embarrassed! I was angry at him for thinking that I was planning to launch a kiss attack on all his friends, but after just blurting it out like that, I was too scared to even look at his face. What must he be thinking of me?
I'm too scared to find out.
I don't want to line up all his friends for a lip-lock festival, but I do want to get to know them better and become friends with them the way I'm starting to become friends with Jake, Tanner and Joe. I really wish Asher stayed a while.
The house is truly lonely today in comparison with the lively funhouse it became yesterday with both Tanner and Dex here... and Hunter. I groan, burying my face in my hands. I wish the rain would let up so that I could go for a walk; I feel trapped in my own skin!
My phone dings, announcing a new message, waking me up from my musings. I'm sitting on the study floor among the books I'm trying to sort by genre and then by title, fondly remembering the few minutes Hunter tried to help me yesterday. We got pretty much nowhere, but it was fun.
I miss him.
"Stop snubbing Hunny. Whatever he did, it cannot be that bad. Stay on target, Alice."
So, she saw me avoiding him. It's not what he did; it's what I did. I start to reply to Paisley's message, but what can I say to that? For a moment, I consider telling her what happened, but I quickly change my mind. I'm humiliated enough as it is.
"I'm not snubbing him. I'm on target, Mistress."
I was going to take Little-Piddle for a walk, but before I was ready to go, the rain started to come down in violent torrents. I'm glad I got home before the rain started; I hope Asher made it to the gym in time too. The dog urinated in the garden when I tried to let him out as an experiment, but after doing that, he ran back into the house and was still sitting just inside the living room doors, anxiously watching the storm.
I'll take him for his walk as soon as there is a break in the weather. For a few minutes, I just sit, cradling a book protectively against my chest, watching large raindrops streaming down the study's windows. I hope Hunter is somewhere safe and warm.
I wonder what he is up to right now.
♪♫♪