Chelsea's heart seemed to have skipped a beat at the sight of Hunter.
He was wearing that same expression he had when she looked up at him at school. Chelsea's knees felt weak, as if she was going to fall at any second. Luckily, she didn't. "Hunter . . ." Chelsea tried gathering enough strength to speak. All she could say was his first name. Such a disappointment.
He gave her a warming grin. "She talks. Yes, that's me. Now, please come in. I have to talk to you about something very important." He walked down the steps slowly. Once he reached the ground on her left side, Chelsea felt intimidated. He must be at least six foot one or two. She felt tiny compared to him. Chelsea was merely five foot one. Hunter held out his right hand to her with his left hand behind his back as he leaned forward. "If you would be so kind as to take my hand, I'll help you walk up the steps. I assume you can't walk up yourself with those short legs of yours." Once again, he grinned. Something about his face looked familiar. What it was, she didn't know. One thing she knew for certain, though: She couldn't argue with him. His smile was captivating, as were his blue eyes. Unwillingly, Chelsea took his hand gently.
I shouldn't have taken his hand, but I couldn't refuse, thought Chelsea. It was true. She couldn't refuse. She just couldn't. Once she took his hand, the corners of his mouth curved up into a charming smile. As they both walked up the stairs, Chelsea's face grew hotter and hotter. She felt a drop of sweat run down her face and neck.
She had never held anyone's hand before, other than her friend, Nathan, when they were little. They used to walk to school together. He had always wanted to hold her hand to make sure she was with him. Always. Just the thought of Nathan made Chelsea miss him even more than she already did. As if sensing her feelings, Hunter stopped at the top of the stairs and let go of her hand. "Is something bothering you, Miss Emma?" Hunter asked with calmness. Chelsea's cheeks had flushed, she assumed, because he started smiling. But soon, that smile disappeared. "If something is bothering you, we can talk another time. I don't mind." Chelsea's eyes widened a little with surprise. She could hardly believe how he was behaving.
"N-No, it's all right," Chelsea said, trying to keep her voice steady. Hunter was turning out to be kind, not like the way he was at school. It was almost funny. She couldn't help but give him a smile. A real smile this time. Not like the one she had given Ashley.
At that, he returned the smile. "Well, if you say so Miss Emma," said Hunter. He opened the door to the library and looked at Chelsea. "After you, Miss Emma." Chelsea walked into the library, feeling the cool air flowing out of it. It was warm outside so the air was welcomed. After she stepped in, Hunter didn't hesitate to follow her. Chelsea turned to look at him to see that he had placed his hands into his pockets, probably cold. He caught her looking at him and looked down at himself. "Is there something on me, Miss Emma?" Hunter asked as he looked back up at her.
"A-Ah, no!" she exclaimed. Chelsea hurried over to an empty table, trying to avoid the conversation she accidentally started. Before she could sit down, Hunter gripped her upper arm rather tightly. Puzzled, Chelsea looked up at him. He had a serious expression that frightened her.
"Not here," he said. "Let's go to a table where there's hardly any people."
"Well," said Chelsea,"a-all right." Still holding her upper arm, he led her to an empty area in the library. Nothing surrounded them other than dusty shelves with even dustier books, three wooden chairs with cushions on them, and a small cart with more books and one flashlight. This would've surprised Chelsea, but what surprised her even more was how Hunter managed to find this part of the library.
Hunter pulled a chair from under a table that was unexpectedly clean, despite everything else being dusty. Even the table was clean and seemed to have been polished. "While I was waiting for your arrival, I kept myself busy by cleaning up a bit," said Hunter. He grinned at her as he gestured for her to sit. After hesitating for a brief moment, she sat down, setting her backpack down on the floor. Hunter pulled out the other chair for himself and sat down, resting his arms on the table.
"S-So, why did you want to talk to me?" Chelsea asked, trying to keep her voice as steady as possible. From the smirk on his face, she realized that she had failed.
"No need to be nervous, Miss Emma. I won't harm you in any way. Nor will I ever. I give you my word." Hunter began to play with his fingers. He no longer wore that charming smile on his face.
"You should really tell yourself to not be nervous, Hunter Liam." Seeing him play with his fingers made her even more nervous. As Chelsea looked at his fingers, she noticed very faint scars on his fingertips which extended throughout the rest of his hands.
Hunter laughed quietly and folded his hands, like a third grader would do when the teacher came into class. "My apologies, Miss Emma. It's just that I haven't talked to anyone in private before. Not really, anyway. So, about our discussion-- " He stopped at the sound of a piano. Chelsea felt embarrassed. She had forgotten to put her phone on vibrate. She reached as quickly as she could into her pocket and pulled out her phone. As soon as she pulled it out, she jumped in surprise. It was Manuel.
Chelsea just stared at her phone. "Manuel," she said. She hasn't spoken to him in a while. She didn't want to either. She let out a sigh and put away her phone after canceling the call.
"If I may ask, who's Manuel?" asked Hunter. He tilted his head slightly in curiosity. With that face, he looked like an eight-year-old wondering what his mother was cooking for dinner.
Chelsea couldn't believe she felt comfortable talking to Hunter. "Ah. He's my--" She stopped talking. She felt her phone vibrate. Once again, she pulled out her phone. She was already getting frustrated. Turning on her phone, she clicked the message she had received from Manuel. "This will just take a minute. I promise." Chelsea typed in her text rather quickly then put her phone away again. "Sorry for the interruption," she said, her voice shaking.
"Ah, it's no problem at all. We all have lives, don't we?" Hunter gazed at her across the table. They weren't that far apart. He could reach out and touch her. "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Our discussion." Hunter smiled faintly. "Miss Emma, do you remember, in the hallway, how I tried to run over to you and had to push students aside to do so?"
"Of course I do," she mumbled. That was a frightening experience for her. "Why?"
Hunter chuckled. "Did you not see their faces? How puzzled they looked?" Hunter leaned across the table.
"Yes, I did see their faces . . ."
"Have you not wondered why? Why they looked so confused instead of annoyed or angry?" Hunter began to tap his fingers on the table.
Chelsea nodded. She couldn't bring herself to speak this time. Being asked many questions made her mute.
"Well, I'll tell you why," Hunter replied. He sat back against his chair as he sighed. "You may not believe me, but other than you, no one else can see me. I'm practically invisible. I had a witch cast a spell on me. Of course, I'm visible to all right now. The spell wore off already." Hunter crossed his arms over his chest. He was actually nervous to see her reaction or hear her response.
Chelsea was speechless. After a long pause, she stood up and lifted her backpack onto her shoulders. "Y-You were right, Hunter. I don't believe you." Chelsea felt stupid. She shouldn't have arrived in the first place. "Thank you for wasting my time," she said calmly. "At least I have an excuse as to why I'm not at home yet. Have a good evening, invisible man." Chelsea turned and began walking. She remembered which turns he made her go through and was soon at the entrance to the library. Walking out, as soon as she closed the door, she felt a hand grip her wrist. Abruptly, she looked over her shoulder to see Hunter there.
"Chelsea, please believe me," he said. His voice was pleading with a mix of disappointment. At least he called her by her first name this time. "I know this isn't believable, but you have to believe me. There's more I want to talk about." He tightened his grip on her.
Chelsea flinched and tried pulling her hand free. "Hunter, you're hurting me," she hissed quietly. Hunter let go of her wrist. Chelsea pulled down her sleeve and looked at her wrist. He had left faint red marks encircling her wrist. "Gee, thanks for the bracelet." She scoffed and walked down the steps.
"I'm very sorry, Miss Emma," he said in a low voice. "It wasn't my intention to harm you. But you have to believe me. Please." He stood where he was, looking down at her. His blue eyes were a shade darker.
Chelsea waved at him. "See you, Hunter Liam." Chelsea turned away from him and walked away. She could only feel disappointment in herself.
***
At home, Chelsea didn't feel any better. After the argument she had with her mother about being late, she went into her room. With a sigh, she pulled out her sketch pad and her pencils from her backpack and placed them on her small desk. She had a chair with wheels so trying to entertain herself, she spun around in it. That helped a little but not enough.
Now on her bed, sitting down, she opened her window, letting in the cool autumn breeze. It was November so the air was pretty chilly at night. Chelsea took in a deep breath, let it out, and hopped off her bed. Chelsea never liked her mother just barging into her room without knocking first. So, she locked the door. Sure, it was rude and you should fear your mother if you take actions such as these because she turns into a monster but Chelsea didn't care. Not today.
With a small yelp, she sat back down on her chair and pushed herself over to her table. She grabbed her pencil and pressed the tip against her blank paper and began to draw the first thing that came into her mind. Chelsea didn't understand how she got her drawing skills. Her parents didn't draw. They can't. Once, she asked her mother why she could draw but her mother couldn't. Her mother explained that Chelsea's aunt drew the way she did. Almost exactly.
Chelsea felt her heart drop. She dropped her pencil onto the floor and pushed herself away from her desk, the back of the seat hitting her bed. Coldness filled her body causing her to shiver. She ran her hands through her red, sweaty hair and sighed. She was drawing Hunter. But . . . why?
She set her tired body down on her bed, her head below the window. The cool air felt nice in her damp hair. At that moment, she heard a loud noise coming from outside. Quickly, she looked outside her window. Nothing was there.
Outside stood the same ladder against the brown bricked wall, a small, black, weak bench and two scooters, one pink, the other one blue. Chelsea's window couldn't prevent anyone from coming in which scared her before. She managed to be okay with it since her window was high up.
Chelsea sank onto her bed, her head under the window again, liking the air against her face. She closed her eyes for a moment but felt uneasy. She felt as if someone was watching her. Unable to push away the feeling, she let out a sigh. It was at that moment that she felt heat against her face. That was strange. The air was cool, so what cast the heat? What was even stranger was that the heat smelled like. . . mint. Once Chelsea opened her eyes, she almost yelled out in pure terror. A hand covered her mouth before she was given the chance. "Shh . . . Don't be afraid and don't yell. It's just me." He wore that same grin on his face. Hunter.