In the Shadows

By ottermonster

1.5K 313 1.1K

Pessimistic Stephanie Thorne and her family just moved to a new town, and she's counting on a fresh start. S... More

Introduction
Part One: the Move
Part Two: the Dance
Part Three: the First Day
Part Four: the Gang
Part Five: the Plan
Part Six: the Date
Part Seven: the Decline
Part Eight: the Nadir
Part Nine: the Zenith
Part Ten: the Spring
Part Twelve: the Game
Part Thirteen: the Thornes
Part Fourteen: the Hike
Part Fifteen: the Break
Part Sixteen: the Grill
Part Seventeen: the Divide
Part Eighteen: the Picnic
Part Nineteen: the Next Level
Part Twenty: the Retribute
Part Twenty-One: the Slaters
Part Twenty-Two: the Talk
Part Twenty Three: the Last Day
Part Twenty-Four: the Night Out
Part Twenty-Five: the Party
Part Twenty-Six: the Sand and Surf
Part Twenty-Seven: the Vast Space
Chapter Twenty-Eight: the Stages of Grief

Part Eleven: the Morning

49 13 46
By ottermonster


    Today was going to be the first time seeing Anthony in a while, but my feelings were completely mixed. I was excited, and nervous, and a touch embarrassed.

    After Anthony helped me calm down on the phone, he refused to let me be alone. During a dinner with his team, he continued to text me. Once he was back in his hotel room, Anthony called me back and told me to leave the phone call going over night. And so I did; sleeping with my phone on my pillow. When I woke up this morning, I could hear him snoring through the speaker.

My mom drove me to school that morning, planning to drop me off on her way to work. She was unusually quiet the whole morning until I pulled my phone out one more time to check if Anthony had messaged me yet. He tended to sleep in whenever possible.

Just as I shut the screen, my mom reached over and pulled the phone out of my hand, dropping it into her purse. Before I even had the chance to question what had happened, she cleared her throat in preparation for a lecture.

    "Stephanie. I have gotten a call from almost every one of your teachers. Is there any class you aren't failing?"

    I felt a pit in my stomach, "My art class is going well."

    "Well, you won't go anywhere with art." She was probably right, "I don't know what's going on, but we did not raise you to get failing grades."

    "It's just... The curriculum is really different here, and I had a hard time catching up."

    "Isn't that what we were paying the tutor for? You know, the one you stopped going to."

    She had a point. I didn't have the strength to tell her the truth about what had happened, maybe if she knew just how truly depressed I had been, she would understand why I couldn't manage some silly homework. At the same time, my mom and dad have been working so hard lately to keep up with the bills and make sure they could help pay for my brother's college tuition next year. He was offered some scholarships, but it just wasn't enough. I knew they were nervous, I didn't want to add to their problems.

    "I'll talk to my teachers and try to do some extra credit." I said. Mom nodded, focused on the road. She dropped me off on the corner to avoid getting caught up in traffic.

    I walked up the hill to the front of the campus. On the far side of the roundabout driveway, a familiar sight lit up my day.

Standing proud in front of the grass amphitheater, Anthony waited for me. His hands in his front pockets as rocked back on his heels. When he saw me, he smiled brightly. I wasn't expecting to see him so soon. And I really wasn't expecting to see him in his uniform.

His bright white pants hugged his muscular legs, faded grass and dirty stains covered his shins. He had tucked his jersey in behind his black belt; the shirt was all white with a patch of navy blue lettering that read 'Knights' across his chest, tight black compression sleeves covered his large biceps, his wrists were wrapped with black athletic tape. Anthony's dark brown hair curled out from under his navy blue and black baseball cap, the front was embroidered with a white knight's helmet.

He stood up straight as I approached him, rolling his broad shoulders back. He was taller than I remembered.

I bit my lip to control my smile, "Good morning."

"It is now. I'm really glad to see you."

"What are you doing here?" I asked.

"Since I'm on both teams, coach said I could come to the pep rally."

The pep rally! How could I forget? I didn't even realize it was already Friday. The pep rally wasn't starting for a while, and the first three classes of the day were canceled for it. This school took their sports very seriously.

Anthony reached out to touch my arm, I flinched out of instinct. He tucked his hand back in his pocket as if nothing happened, "Listen, I was just going to head over to the Coffee Cottage. Would you like to come with me?"

"That sound's really great actually." I didn't really care for coffee or tea, but I wanted to spend all the time with him that I could. He offered to carry my backpack and lead the way off campus. We passed the pond, the sidewalk led around the corner of the hill and we arrived downtown after only a few minutes.

Crossing the quaint courtyard of the coffee shop, I noticed lots of other students sitting at the tables outside. All of them were sipping lattes and finishing homework, excited for spring break. Anthony reached to open the door, when unfortunate faces emerged. Nick and T.P. took a swig of their drink, finishing the hot coffee before tossing the paper cup into a trashcan next to the door.

"This is too good." Nick said with a cocky smile.

Anthony looked at me with concern, "You know these guys?"

I was silent. I was anxious and afraid, if they were here, Cain could be here too. I squeezed my hands, digging my nails into my palm.

"Where've you been, newbie?"

"Yeah, we miss you!" Nick said, resting his hand on my shoulder. I looked up to Anthony, hoping to express my discomfort.

Somehow, he already knew. He pushed Nick's hand off of me, stepping slightly in front of me. "Hey man, we're just trying to grab a drink. You can go be a douche somewhere else."

    "Okay, man." T.P. laughed, the duo started to walk past us. My anxious eyes were locked on the floor, trying to keep my composure. I was so focused on dissociating, I didn't see whose arm hit me.

    It was almost as if everything was moving in slow motion and high speed at the same time. One of the boy's elbow jammed into my chest. I fell back, catching myself on one of the bistro chairs. In that same second, Anthony reacted. His calloused fist flew steadily, crashing into Nick's cheekbone. Nick immediately dropped to the floor. T.P. turned to run back into the shop, but in two steps, Anthony caught him by the collar of his shirt. Anthony's lip curled with rage; he was seeing red.

    Inside the coffee shop, I saw some of the adults standing and staring in shock. The manager came out from behind the counter in a hurry. All I could think of was Anthony getting in trouble and not getting to play in the big game.

    His fist raised to T.P.'s whimpering face, every muscle in Anthony's body was tensed. I reached up and took gentle hold of Anthony's arm, his solid muscles immediately softened at my touch. His body seemed to relax. Anthony's hand lowered slowly.

    He growled through his gritted teeth, "Stay the fuck away from her."

    "We have to go." I urged him gently.

    He let go of T.P. and took my backpack. Nick was still moaning on the floor as we began our escape. Just as the cafe manager ran out the door to scold us, we were already down the street, running as fast as we could.

    Once we reached the far end of the pond, we stopped to catch our breath. I had just begun to laugh to ease the tension when I noticed Anthony's face, still stern and serious, the muscles on his jaw flexing. He took off his hat, shaking out his hair and rubbing the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

    "I should go back there and kick their asses." He said, pacing. I took his hand once again and he froze. His shoulders dropped and Anthony exhaled a deep sigh. I rubbed my thumb across his palm; his hands were dry but very smooth, his whole arm was soft on top of all those defined muscles, the hair on the back of his arm was bleached from the sun.

    "I'm sorry." He said defeated.

    I was confused, "What for?"

    "No one should ever put their hands on you."

    We heard the drum line begin beating, a loud crowd of students cheered along to the school's fight song. Handing me my bag, Anthony looked at the distance gymnasium, "I guess we should go."

    "Yeah." I muttered, still eyeing his red swollen knuckles. "Thanks for what you did back there. No one has ever stood up for me like that."

    "Stephanie?"

    "Yes?"

    Anthony placed his hands gently on my arms, brushing down past my bandaged wrists to hold my hands, "Stephanie, is it alright if I kiss you?"

    My heart crawled up into my throat. I nodded. With a soft smile, Anthony leaned down to press his velvet lips against mine.

    It wasn't sparks or fireworks; it was so much better. It was like being wrapped in a fuzzy blanket, like a warm sunny day, the smell of the ocean in the air. Bliss covered my body like honey.

    Our lips stayed locked in a tender embrace, I didn't want it to end. Alas, he pulled away slowly. His smile gleaming, Anthony brushed my hair back behind my ear. His fingers lingered on my cheek. If he wasn't holding me, I thought I might drift away in the breeze like dandelion fuzz.

    I could feel my cheeks turning bright read as I grinned from ear to ear. I chuckled, "Thank you."

    "My pleasure, darling."

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