"Delilah!"
Who's calling me? Where am I?
"Delilah!"
Who is that ...?
I can hear the voice as clear as day, but it is too dark to see anyone nearby.
"Delilah!"
It's the voice of a boy, screaming out my name. His voice is so sad as if he's close to tears.
Who are you?
My surroundings gradually become lighter. For a single moment, I saw him, reaching out to me. Instinctively, my own hand stretched out to grab him, but before our fingertips could touch, he vanished.
•••
"Delilah!"
I slowly opened my eyes, squinting at the soft morning light that filtered through the sheer curtains in my room. "Delilah!" I heard my mom yell again, no doubt too busy trying to rush out the door to wake me up without screaming at the top of her lungs.
"I'm up," I croaked, just barely loud enough for her to hear. The sound of the front door slamming shut was my only reply.
Sighing, I let my eyes flutter shut once again, trying to remember what exactly I had been dreaming about. Whatever it was, it left me feeling unsettled. "Just great...what a wonderful way to start a new day," I muttered under my breath, wiping my clammy palms on the bed sheets as I opened my eyes and blinked in the sunlight. I sat up slowly with a yawn, leaning back against my headboard as I stretched and gazed about my room.
Half emptied moving boxes were scattered everywhere, and the stuff I had unpacked was strewn about the room, waiting to be put away. My new room was lovely, I had to admit; it was bigger than my room back home, and the walls were a soft white while the floors were a dark cherry hardwood. Across from my gold, Maison canopy bed was a large bay window that let in plenty of natural light and looked over the evergreen forest beyond. My desk was situated underneath the window and was already piled high with books I had bought for the fourteen-hour drive from Culver City, California to Wolf Pine, Oregon. My mom had insisted on buying new furniture, and had allowed me to pick what I wanted for my room; everything was a polished ivory, from my vanity and 9-drawer dresser to my bedside table and armoire. On the walls hung some of my favorite artwork, in watercolor hues of blue, purple, and green. A gold-framed full body mirror was mounted on the wall next to my armoire and was directly across from my bedroom door.
My room was really the only thing that felt like home to me now. At first, it was an unsettlingly large and empty space, but as everything was shifted around and put away it became safe and familiar. My own little haven, whose comfort I really needed right now.
I have to finish hanging up all my clothes today after doing laundry, and I still need to clear out those three boxes in the corner...
My thoughts were diverted as my phone buzzed and lit up with a notification. Glancing at the screen, my eyes landed on the small text underneath the time that read Monday, August 27th. Under that was a text message from Regina, my best friend since 8th grade.
[Regina: Try and have fun today! You gotta tell me all about it later, alright? Love you, xoxo!]
I groaned, the realization hitting me that today was supposed to be my first day at Wolf Pine High. Was I ready for this? Not by a longshot! I had only moved schools once, back when I was seven and my parents and I lived in Nevada. Since then, I had been attending the same middle school and high school with the same people for five years; moving at this point would be social suicide! Not that I was much of a socialite anyway. And it didn't help that I was enrolling about four weeks late into the first semester, although I guessed that living in a small town, everyone already had their friends picked out anyway.
I couldn't help but groan again. And to think, this was all happening due to my mom's problems with her ex-husband. Her third ex-husband to be precise. My dad was killed the night of my tenth birthday and my mom Jenna was never the same. Honestly, it changed us both, but she the most affected by it. I had nightmares for almost a year after the incident, and mom used to wake me up in the middle of the night, shaking me until I woke because I was screaming. I would wake up covered in a cold sweat and my bed a mess from tossing and turning. My dad's death had had hurt, it still hurt, but I was able to think about it now without completely breaking down. I think that was due to mentally blocking it out for so long. I barely remembered that night anymore, but whenever I try to dwell on the memory, my chest constricts painfully as if I'm being squeezed and I start to become nauseous. I get the worse migraines too, and it's as if something is forcing me to not remember. I try not to think about it.
Mom was different. She tried to be strong for the both of us, but after my nightmares stopped she started keeping to herself and drinking. After about a couple months of that, random men started coming over and she started staying out late. I barely even saw her anymore, but when I did she barely paid any attention to me. I couldn't even get her to look me in the eye...it was like she would look right through me as if I wasn't even there. I was sure it was because I looked so much like dad. She hated being reminded.
I'm pretty sure she was also experimenting with drugs at the time, but I had never found any in her purse. I knew it was her way of coping and trying to forget about my dad, but I still used to hear her cry at night when she came home alone, so I knew it wasn't working.
Soon, one night stands didn't seem to be enough for her. She got married to the first guy who stuck around for more than a month, and for a moment I had hope. Even if they had just met and barely knew each other, I kept my wishful thinking that maybe, just maybe she would become happy and normal again. That she would go back to actually being my mom. But it wasn't meant to last. Sure, everything was fine in the beginning when they were newlyweds, but soon their marriage descended into chaos. They had little to nothing in common, they were always fighting about something, and both of them stayed out late. When my step-dad accused my mother of cheating on him she went ballistic and accused him of projecting onto her, which meant that he had to be the one cheating. My mom filed for divorce the next day. Their marriage lasted a grand total of two years and six months on the dot.
She got remarried again when I was 14 and just starting 9th grade. The second guy was nice but was a bit of a pushover. He did whatever my mom asked of him, and let her do whatever she wanted. Apparently, this wasn't a dream come true for mom because she told me that he was boring and didn't think for himself. They got divorced about two months later. Their marriage had only lasted a year and 3 months and 8 days.
Her third marriage, whose romance ended as quickly as it had started, had lasted approximately five months and twenty-two days before my mom decided to file for divorce. I was 16 and it was summer break, with junior year right up ahead. Her third ex-husband, Steve, turned out to be a bit of a psychopath, and it really started to show after he and mom had separated. He kept harassing mom to get back together with him, even going as far as to show up at my school to try and use me as bait. Offering to drive me home and even saying that he'd take me through the drive-through, I had rolled my eyes at his offer and stayed inside the school with my English teacher until mom came to pick me up.
When he broke into our house in the middle of the night, that was the last straw. With Steve apprehended momentarily by the police, we took our chance and the very next morning had our bags packed and were ready to go. I understood and was completely in agreement as to why my mom wanted to move, but why she had to pick some small town in Oregon that wasn't even on the map is beyond me. Was it so Steve couldn't find us? We could as easily hide out in a crowded city like New York as we could in the middle of almost nowhere. Or we could have even moved to Portland! Why should we city-dwellers have to suffer?
Here in Wolf Pine, it rained pretty much every other day. There seemed to always be a constant cloud cover, and I've been told that warm sunny days were few and far between, even during the hotter months. It was a beautiful place, of course, surrounded by forests that housed lakes and streams and even a few waterfalls a few miles west, but it just wasn't home. Especially for a city girl like me; I was probably exhaling exhaust gas with every breath I took.
I could just stay home. I don't have to go to school, I mused, absentmindedly twirling a curl of my hair around my finger. I was pretty sure I could make up a plausible excuse for skipping today if mom asked, but that was if she even came home tonight. She told me about the job she works now would require long hours, but I was fairly certain that she would just end up sleeping in someone else's bed. Still, I had responsibilities, and with no one to watch over me, I had to guide myself.
Two years and out...
I would finish high school here and would attend a university back in California. There was no way I was going to get myself stuck out here, for any reason. Unable to put off the inevitable any longer, I whined under my breath as I begrudgingly crawled out of bed, shivering as soon as I had slipped out from under the covers.
I walked to the bathroom which was down the hall from my room and flipped on the light, glaring with bleary eyes at my reflection. I stared, brooding over the wild mess of curls that I knew would take me forever to untangle. Knowing full well that it was my fault for going to sleep while my hair was still wet, I sighed in exasperation and attempted to begin untangling it with my fingers. When that failed to help and even seemed to make it worse, I turned on the shower and climbed in, resigning myself to the fate of having to wash my hair for the second time. The hot water peppered my skin, bringing every nerve ending alive and causing my entire body to tingle with warmth. I soon relaxed under the stream of water, falling quickly into my routine and humming as I did so. I was out in forty-five minutes or so, and wrapping both myself and my hair in towels, I made my way back to my room. I had picked my clothes out the night before; a simple outfit that consisted of my favorite pair of blue jeans, a burnt orange cable knit sweater with an open back and a cami underneath, and my well-worn pair of ballet flats. I secured the necklace I wore every day around my neck, a small golden angel, and hanging next to it a gold ring that had a wreath of flowers carved into the band. Both hung on a delicate chain that rested flat against my collarbone, and I fiddled with the trinkets anxiously as I stared back at my reflection in the mirror that hung on the wall.
The necklace was given to me by my father. It was a present, and as I had been too impatient to wait until my birthday, he had given it to me a day early, right before everything in my life had been turned upside down. The ring was also a gift. It had been left on my dresser the eve of my eleventh birthday, and yet I had no idea who it was from. Mom had never seen the ring before, and even at such a young age, I didn't believe that she was the one who had gotten it for me. She didn't like celebrating my birthday after what happened to dad. I never figured out who had left it, but it was special to me all the same. It felt like, somewhere, someone was watching over me. I liked to think it was dad up in heaven.
I locked eyes with my reflection in the mirror. "I don't think I'm ready for this," I muttered to myself as I turned and walked away, heading to my vanity to do my hair. I wasn't accustomed to the damp weather and constant rain just yet, and my hair didn't seem to know what to do in it either, as it quickly began to frizz whenever it dried. I could do nothing but put half a bottle of leave in conditioner and some coconut oil in it and hope that it stayed manageable throughout the day. Only applying a bit of tinted chapstick and some clear mascara afterward, I dubbed myself as ready as I'd ever been. I snatched my book bag from my desk where I had stuffed it with first-day essentials the night before and grabbed my phone that had lit up with notifications a multitude of times since I woke up. Giving a last, longing look towards my tousled bed, I dashed out of the room and descended to the first floor of the house.
An apple and a granola bar would have to suffice for breakfast considering how much time I spent in the shower, and I grabbed both from the kitchen before rushing out of the house. The sun hadn't fully risen yet, and a thick wispy fog hung suspended in the air. The chill of late autumn was already here, and the cold seemed to pierce straight through my sweater, making me shiver. I missed the warm autumn days back home, where it never really got cold until mid-November. I missed a lot of things.
I wondered absentmindedly if I should run back into the house for a coat, but with the time on my phone already reading 7:40, I didn't think I had time. I strolled to my car, a teal blue Mini Cooper Convertible. It was the one perk of us moving; mom had promised to buy me any car I wanted to make up for us having to leave home. Of course, I had gotten my dream car, the one I had my eye on since the brand came out. Opening the door and tossing my book bag in first, I hopped in after it, turning on my car and cranking up the heat as I pulled out of the driveway.
Our new house was placed directly between two others, on the outskirts of town. One belonged to an elderly woman who spent most of the time we were moving in peeking out her curtains at us. The second seemed to be empty, as I hadn't seen anyone come or go from it in the past week, and yet there was no for sale sign up. The three two-story houses huddled together in almost a loose U-shape and were back by dense forest. Pulling out of the driveway, going right would take you straight into town, while going left would take you through long winding roads surrounded by the trees and would eventually, in about four hours or so, take you to interstate 5. Interstate 5 would take me home to California.
Unfortunately, I had to turn right.
To get to the heart of town took less than ten minutes, and I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel to the beat of a song on the radio as I followed a long line of cars heading for the high school. The line continued at a medium pace, and I was able to sing along to a few songs on the radio to get rid of some of my stress until the large brick prison called Wolf Pine High came into view. Unlike the school I attended in California, this school was surrounded by dark woodland instead of palm trees and was the color of rust instead of the warm colors of beige and cream. As I pulled into the student parking lot I could already feel eyes turn my way - of course, I was driving an unfamiliar car.
And who else could it be but the new girl?
I began fiddling once again with the angel that hung around my neck, my own personal guardian angel as I liked to think, as I parked and shut off the car. "Deep breaths, you can do this," I murmured to myself as anxiety filled me. I didn't like starting over. I liked my old house, my old school, my old friends. I never wanted anything to change, and yet it was - rapidly. I clenched my fists as my hands began to tremble and I forcefully willed back tears that burned behind my eyes. I hadn't fully adjusted yet, but I knew this definitely wasn't the place to have a panic attack about it.
I took a few deep breaths and checked my hair in the mirror, fixing a few stray strands as if I wasn't just on the verge of outright balling seconds before. Finally composed, I grabbed my bag and got out of the car. I ignored the curious and outright staring of my peers as I headed through the parking lot, feigning confidence, something I had always been good at.
I didn't take two years of theater for nothing, I thought wryly as I continued forward, trying to block out the whispers of everyone I passed. This town was tiny, with only a population of now 546 people; to some, that might seem like a lot. But seeing as I was used to seeing strangers once and never again, it was a bit unnerving. Everyone here had grown up together, and to be truthful, I was worried about how I would fit in. People found me strange already, but being strange and a total stranger in a small town? It seemed like a nightmare.
The roar of a motorcycle approaching drew my attention as I made my way up the school steps, and it seemed that I wasn't the only one who was curious enough to turn and look. Whoever it was on the bike, I was instantaneously grateful. All the attention that had previously been focused on me, like a target on my back, shifted in an instant. The few groups of people hanging around or on the steps of the school burst out in excited chatter. I heard a girl to my left gush to her friends, "He's finally back! He was gone for an entire week!" I wasn't complaining that someone besides the new girl took the spotlight, and I had to admit, I was now curious as to who the rider was since everyone seemed to be buzzing with excitement.
As the rider parked, I noted that the bike was a Harley-Davidson, although what type of model I couldn't be sure. My dad had always been interested in sports cars and motorcycles, and I remember for his 48th birthday mom had bought him a Yamaha R1. He was overjoyed and took mom for a ride around the neighborhood and they came back with wind-blown hair and flushed cheeks.
I sucked in a sharp breath, shaking my head as I tried to clear away the happy memory that twisted my heart.
My focus turned back to the boy and his bike. The bike was a glossy black with polished chrome features, and it looked to be very well taken care of. The boy riding the bike descended swiftly and elegantly, and I watched almost entranced by the way he moved with such grace.
Just as the boy removed his helmet, even from the distance separating us our eyes met and I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Shaking off the feeling, I turned away and continued into the school, wondering if I was only imagining his eyes burning into my back as I went.
•••
"I'm the new student here, Delilah Farrell," I spoke, introducing myself to the petite brunette who sat at the front desk of the main office. I shifted the weight of my bookbag to the opposite shoulder, my hands gripping the straps tightly to the point where my knuckles turned white.
"Right!" The woman's face lit up in recognition as she gave me a warm smile. "I have your schedule and locker number right here," she said, getting up from her chair and going to a set of black file cabinets that sat behind her. I glanced around the warm office, careful to not make eye contact with the few other students who were sitting in the waiting area. Plush maroon chairs were clustered in an L shape next to the door, across from a row of glass display cabinets that showcased notices and awards. A large fake plant of some sort gathered dust in the corner, next to a spotted water fountain. The long beige counter that cut the room in half was cluttered with wire baskets full of flyers, forms, and plastic signs that reminded students to sign up for numerous after-school clubs. A large clock ticked loudly next to the school's slogan that was painted in forest green letters: Dedicated To Excellence.
The woman, whose name tag read Ms. Johnson, came back over and handed me a few slips of paper. I glanced at the one on top, my schedule, noting that my first period was English in room 907 with a Mr. Richardson. "How do you like Wolf Pine so far?" she asked, a bright smile on her face. I watched as she dug through a stack of documents on her desk before she pulled from the pile a map of the school and handed it to me also.
Not wanting to offend her, I merely smiled and replied, "It's very...quaint."
She chuckled and nodded, leaning slightly forward to whisper to me, "Don't worry hun, I'm not from here either. It takes a bit of getting used to, but you'll come to love it in due time. Now, make sure you have each of your teacher's sign that form on the bottom, and you can bring it back at the end of the day." I couldn't help but smile genuinely at her reassurance and nodded, telling her thanks and that I'd be back before turning to leave the office.
My eyes scanned over my schedule as I stepped into the flow of students making their way to class or just hanging around the hallway. English, Drama, World History, P.E., Lunch, Biology, Pre-Cal. Well, it could be worst. At least I have P.E. before lunch, I thought as I maneuvered through the crowded hallway. I kept my eyes cast downward, easily avoiding stepping into anyone's path by watching their feet, but when someone nearly jumped in front of me, I didn't have time to react and bumped straight into them.
I collided with what felt like a wall but instead turned out to be someone's chest. I stumbled back, tripping over my own feet as I lost my balance and almost toppled over backward before a hand shot out and grabbed my wrist, yanking me back roughly to a standing position. "You should watch where you're going," a cold but strangely melodic voice stated. I had to crane my neck to look up at the face of the boy who towered over me by a good foot and few inches, and it turned out to be the boy who was on the bike.
Oh. My. God.
I couldn't help but feel bad for his girlfriend if he had one (who am I kidding, a guy this gorgeous was bound to have a girlfriend) because I was one-hundred percent sure he had to be prettier than her. He had long, glossy, chocolate locks that swept away from his face and curled slightly at the nape of his neck, and a set of dark brown eyes that I could only describe as mahogany for the way they sometimes seemed to flash almost crimson with the changing of the light. He was a good 190 centimeters and had the firm build of a guy who obviously worked out. His muscles tensed with each breath he took, and it showed under the tight black sweater he wore. His strong cheekbones were supported by a well defined, chiseled jawline which only helped to intensify his smoldering gaze, but it was complemented by a pair of soft, flawless lips most would instantly fantasize kissing... As I said: most. I didn't make it a habit of fantasizing about strangers I just met. Especially strangers whose physical appearance probably made the student body weak at the knees or dreadfully envious. The conceit and vanity that oozed from him was damn near asphyxiating.
What kind of school honestly allows this?
I let out a shaky breath and looked away, not wanting to be overwhelmed. "You shouldn't jump out in front of people," I replied, shifting uncomfortably where I stood as I felt his eyes bore into me. I hadn't even realized that most of the noise in the hallway had died down and that nearly everyone was watching us. I was more attuned to the fact that he still had a hold on my wrist, and when I gently tried to pull away from him his grip only tightened.
He lifted my unwilling limb to his face and at an agonizingly slow pace, he grazed his lips over the inside of my wrist, sending shivers down my spine and making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. A strange, tingling sensation caused gooseflesh to rise on my arms, and I felt a sudden rush of adrenaline course through my veins. His intense gaze locked with my own, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips. "You smell good," he chuckled, finally dropping my hand. I yanked it to my chest, my other hand cradling my molested arm as I mumbled, quite dazed, "Thanks, I use something called soap." I stepped away and quickly maneuvered around him as my heart hammered in my chest, and I felt heat rush to my cheeks when I saw that everyone was looking at me. Putting my head down I quickly shuffled to class, ignoring the deep laugh behind me.