Songs of the chapter:
Staying Up – The Neighborhood
Brutal Hearts – Bedouin Soundclash
I read the text message again.
*Tomorrow. 10 PM. 1409 NE street.
This isn't real, I know it isn't, because if it is, then that means Regina is...
I push the thought out of my head and put my phone in my pocket. This is ridiculous. There is no way, there just isn't. Whoever has a mind sick enough to joke about this isn't someone who deserves my attention. I'll just block the number and move on from it. Quickly, I block the number and exit out of my messages.
Suddenly I don't want to stay up and watch a movie anymore, exhaustion has taken over and I just want to crawl into my bed right now.
I turn the television off and put the bowl of popcorn on the table. Before I go upstairs, I check the whole downstairs to make sure all the curtains are closed and doors and windows locked. Then I make my way upstairs.
When I enter my room, I realize how messy it is; clothes and trash littered all around the floor. I turn off the lights and then slip into my bed.
The smooth sheets are cold and it takes a while for my body to warm up the bed. Something seems different, I have no idea what it is, but something just feels very different. I don't even know how to describe it. Even if I had all the words in the world, I wouldn't be able to organize them into a coherent sentence to explain how I feel.
My room is cold, so I wrap my blanket tight around my body, bundling myself up like an infant. I wish I would have shut the curtains before getting into bed. I don't like looking up at the night sky, so dark and full of infinities and impossibilities.
Before I fall asleep, I feel it again, the strangeness inside of me. It's kind of warm, like the feeling of sun shining on your skin or the heat from a campfire.
Eventually my body begins to rest and my mind opens it door, leaving my subconscious to wander about.
Bacon. I smell bacon. The greasy, salty, and savory meat. The smell is so strong I can almost taste it. I can even sort of hear it sizzling in a pan.
I jump out of bed and change into a sweatshirt and some sweats. It is awfully cold this morning. As my feet hit the cold, wooden floor in the hallway, I get shivers. It almost feels like walking on ice.
"Dad? Is that bacon I smell?" He usually never makes bacon.
"Hunter? You're already up? Shocker," he says as I enter the kitchen.
"Well yeah! You're cooking bacon, I can smell that stuff from a mile away. How much longer till it's ready?" I ask, grabbing a plate from the cupboard.
"A few more minutes. Pancakes are keeping warm in the oven."
I open the oven and grab the plate of pancakes and eggs. I love it when he makes breakfast. The eggs are plainly seasoned so I add some ketchup to the top of them and dad makes a disgusted face.
"What? Eggs are only good with ketchup," I say as I squirt a little bit more ketchup on them.
"That is not normal, that's like putting juice on your pancakes." He flips a couple of strips of bacon over in the pan.
"Dad, that is not the same thing. Ketchup is a condiment you put on food and eggs are food. You don't put your drinks on your food." I grab a pancake from the plate, then put the food back in the oven so it can continue to stay warm.
"Whatever you say."
"Did you buy more juice? It was all out yesterday." I only like eating breakfast with juice.
"Yeah it's in the fridge," he says. As I open the fridge, I hear a knock on the door.
"Who is that?" I grab the orange juice out of the fridge.
"Four," dad casually says as he puts the cooked bacon on a plate.
I choke on my orange juice and almost drop my glass on the ground. What on earth could Four be doing at my house on a Sunday morning? "What? Why?"
"I invited him for breakfast last night. He mentioned that you guys have a project to work on. I thought we could all eat breakfast together and then you guys could work on your project, get a head of the gang!" He starts walking towards the door.
"What? Dad no. Just shoo him away, tell him I'm not feeling so good or something." I start to panic. I probably look like a greasy freak right now.
He just chuckles and continues to walk towards the door. "Don't be silly, if you were feeling under the weather you wouldn't be eating all this breakfast food."
I think about making a run for it upstairs, but that would mean I would have to run faster than the speed of light to get past dad and Four without them seeing me. Then the door opens and I hear dads voice. "Hi there Five."
"Its Four, Kyle." Four steps into the house. He's wearing a black t-shirt with black jeans and a navy blue bandana. Im too stressed out to even wonder why on earth he is always wearing that.
"Yeah, I know," dad says as he pats Four on the back.
Four looks up and notices me. I instantly feel my cheeks redden. My hair is flying in all different directions and I have yet to brush my teeth this morning. I'm wearing high water sweats and a sweatshirt from my middle school volleyball team that says "Most Encouraging".
"Hey," he says to me. It's obvious he's trying to hide a smile. He's probably trying to contain his laughter at my appearance.
"Hello," I say. Hello? Who says hello anymore? A simple hi would have sufficed. Instead of embarrassing myself more, I awkwardly walk back into the kitchen. Dad and Four follow behind me.
I grab some bacon and place it onto my plate then sit down at the table. Four and dad eventually join me after fixing themselves a plate.
"So how was your guy's date last night?" Dad asks and I almost spit my orange juice across the table at Four's face. I knew he would make this awkward, I just knew it.
"It wasn't a date," I say once I finally swallow my juice.
"What did you guys do?"
"We went-" Four starts to talk but I cut him off.
"Bowling. We went bowling," I blurt out. There is no way I am letting my dad know that we went to a shooting range. He would probably ground me until I move out if he knew I even looked at a gun. He can't stand the second amendment.
"That sounds like a good time. Who won? I don't know about you Four, but Hunter has always been good at bowling. I don't know what it is about those twiggy little arms, but she's always been able to get a couple strikes in each game," he laughs.
"Of course I won, Four still bowls granny style, both hands and everything," I say trying to make more of a story out of this lie.
Four shoots me a deadly glare. I give him an innocent what? look.
"Do you work today?" Four says to my dad, changing the subject.
"Yeah, I have to leave in about twenty minutes or so. After we eat, I'll leave you two to work on your project."
"Where do you work?"
"I'm a truck driver. Mr. Delivery is what they call me back at the warehouse," he boasts, proudly smiling while he eats his breakfast.
"My uncle is also a truck driver. Respect to you, it isn't an easy job maneuvering those big vehicles," Four says.
"See Hunter, truck driving isn't so uncommon!" Dad says to me, then turns to Four. "She's always telling me I'm the only one in town who drives a big old truck."
I don't say anything, just take a bite of my pancake and try not to look at either of them. I eat the rest of my meal quietly while dad and Four chit chat until they're done as well. When I finish my glass of juice, I bring my dishes over to the kitchen sink.
"Okay, well I'm off to work kiddos. You two get some homework done. Love, you Hunter." Dad plants a short kiss on my forehead before grabbing his jacket. "Oh and can you do the dishes?"
"Yeah," I softly say as I hear him walk out the front door.
I start to wash the dishes in the sink when the hairs on my body start to stand up because I can feel Four's eyes on me and I begin to load pans into the dish washer. "Can I help you?" I ask. My voice comes out hoarse and I sound more annoyed than curious, unintentionally.
"I have the rest of the dishes," I hear him say.
I turn around and see him standing with plates in one hand and glass cups in the other. "Oh, you can set them on the counter. Thank you." I give him a smile to show my appreciation.
Once the dishes are loaded in the dishwasher and the sink is clean, I wash my hands and dry them on the kitchen towel. Four is leaning against the counter across from me, watching me.
"So," I start, trying to sound unbothered by his eyes that keep raking up and down my body. "What do you want to do the project on?"
We walk over into the living room and I grab my laptop and open it. "I don't care," he says and awkwardly sits across from me on the couch.
"Okay, well we talked about contrasts in class on Friday, so I was thinking we could do opposites, like dark and light? Half the comic strip can be dark and the other have light? Like heaven and hell..." I drift off when I see that he's just sitting there staring at me. He's relaxed his back into the couch and his legs are spread out as both his elbows rest atop the cushions.
"Sure."
"Yeah..." I take some paper out of my backpack and hand one to him. Why is he being so, so weird. "I'll do the first five boxes and you to the last five?"
"Sure. You can do heaven, I'll do hell."
"Sounds... good." I hand him a pencil and we begin to work, while occasionally glancing up at him. Well, this is weird. He hasn't said much since it's been just the two of us, he's just been odd.
A half an hour goes by and Four has yet to say a full sentence to me and it's honestly driving me a little insane. Maybe I'll put on some music so we aren't just listening to each other breathe.
I pick up the remote for the television and turn on a music station. Four doesn't even so much as twitch when the music comes on. What in the world is going on with him?
"Why do you talk to me?" I blurt out of nowhere. Immediately, I cover my mouth and regret letting my mouth speak, hoping he's still playing catatonic and just doesn't answer.
"What do you mean?" He asks.
"I don't know. Like why do you talk to me? Why are you here and why did you approach me in class? My life is so bland, I just don't really see what made me approachable," I say.
"Bland?"
"Yeah bland. Plain. Icey. Shockingly icy cold, there's no excitement or energy." I don't know what I'm saying or if it even makes sense. But he doesn't hesitate to answer.
"Maybe someone so icy could use a little bit of fire."
What is that supposed to mean? Fire? Is he supposed to be this fire?
A knock comes from the door and both mine and Four's face shoot up. "I'll be right back," I say.
I get up and walk towards the door. Who would be knocking on the door? I don't have any neighbors and there's an obvious "No Soliciting" sign on the porch so salesmen never come to here.
Firstly, I look through the little peephole like my dad always tells me to do. It's raining outside again, but I don't see anyone.
That's odd.
I unlock the door and open it just to make sure. Still no one in sight. No cars or bikes by the house that I don't recognize. Instead of straining my neck further, I close the door and lock it behind me.
"Who was it?" Four asks as I sit back down in my chair.
"There was no one there actually. Probably just some kids," I say, but deep down I don't believe it was some kids playing around. We've never gotten ding dong ditchers before.
"Are you sure? Why would a bunch of kids come all the way out here to pull a prank?"
"No actually, im not sure. It is kind of strange though, we never really get people at our door unless it's an expected guest."
Four stands up and looks out the big window in the living room, overlooking the front of the yard. He stares for a few seconds before sitting back down on the couch. "Oh, well that's strange."
"I know. You know it was probably just the wind. It's pretty windy out there. Something probably blew away and hit the door," I say, though we obviously both know it wasn't the wind.
We both go back to working on the project after settling down and I steal another glance at him. He's focused, brows furrowed and drawing something on his paper.
"Hey, are you going to-" I start to ask him a question when I see something dark flying towards the window, fast.
Before I can react to it, the object flies through the window into the house. The whole window shatters and falls down onto the floor, letting small pieces of glass scatter around the ground. The noise was so loud my ears are ringing.
"What the hell?" Four says, standing up and staring at the hole in the wall that used to be a window. He looks back and forth between me and the window.
I look down at the object that flew through the window. It's a medium sized rock with a piece of paper tied around it.
Slowly, I bend down and detach the note from the rock, opening it up and reading it. In messy red ink, it reads "Don't forget, she's waiting."
*****