IT MIGHT BE pointless to say, but the Grim Reaper and I weren't friends. No matter how often I saw him on a day-to-day basis or he suddenly showed up out of the blue. We weren't buddy-buddy with each other, and we never would be. Still, having him point at me and say my name made it feel as if my heart was being ripped from my chest. It might've just been a dream, but it had felt real—and that's what really matters. I felt betrayed by a being that basically just forces you to acknowledge your own death and takes you up to the Pearly Gates—or the burning flames of Hell. Whichever one you were destined for by the end of your lifetime.
So when I startled awake, my heart beating rapidly in my chest and that missing feeling in my body gone, I decided right then and there that I couldn't let Lyle come with me. It wasn't a hard decision for me to make—I'd been trying to get him to go back to the academy since before he'd even left. He wasn't listening though, and it ticked me off. And the Fates still weren't on my side, I realized, as I glanced around the abandoned store.
“Good morning, Sunshine,” Lyle chirped when he noticed that I was awake. Why was he so overly perky?
“It's nighttime,” I told him, my mood one-hundred percent below his.
He looked up at me from digging through my backpack. “Good evening, Moonlight,” he said, each word accentuated by the intense stare he was giving me. It was kind of creepy. “Does that work for you?”
“Go back to the academy.”
“No.”
“Then no, it doesn't work for me.”
“Your logic is weird,” he muttered, going back to rummaging around in my bag. “How does me correcting on what time of day it is—or night—pertain to me going back to the academy?”
“It has everything to do with it.”
I sat up and reached for my bag, unzipping another pocket and pulling out the granola bars I had been smart enough to grab before leaving the academy. I held two up in front of him. “Are these what you were looking for?”
He scowled at me. “Yes,” he muttered as he snatched one of the granola bars out of my hand.
My lips twitched up at the corners as I unwrapped mine and took a bite out of it. We ate in silence, neither of us really looking at the other. I think it was awkward because he knew that saying anything would eventually lead to me telling him to go back to the academy. I wasn't going to let it go easily, and because we'd been together for all of a month, he knew how stubborn I was. Or, well, he knew about half of how stubborn I can be—which is a lot and not entirely something I'm willing to show him just yet.
Eventually, though, the silence was broken. It would always be broken, I realized. Almost as if it was “made” to be broken. Odd.
“So, where to next, Miss I'm-intent-on-leaving-Lyle-Bane?” Lyle asked, pushing himself to his feet.
I glared at him.
“Don't give me that look, you know it's true.” His face crinkled up as he grinned.
I huffed and slung my backpack onto my shoulders.
“Are you going to answer me?”
“I don't know,” I said.
“You don't know if you're going to tell me, or you don't know where we're going?” he asked as he followed behind me.
I closed the door behind us firmly. “I don't know where we're going,” I clarified, turning to frown up at him. “In fact, it's not even supposed to be a 'we' thing. Go—”
“No.” He glanced away from my eyes and rubbed the back of his neck. “So, you didn't even know where you were going and you left the academy?”
I shrugged and turned to start down the sidewalk. “Yeah,” I muttered, watching the streetlights flicker on one by one. Cars drove back and forth down the street, still too early in the evening for people to be at home asleep. “I was planning on wandering around for a while until I could figure out where a good place to hunker down and get a job would be.”
“Were you planning on becoming a truck stop waitress or something? 'Cause I think that's the only thing a high school dropout can get nowadays.”
I glared at him from the corner of my eye. “Probably not even that,” I relented, sighing. “But I figure the guy after me would eventually leave me alone now that I've left the academy.”
“That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard.”
“Shut up.”
“I'm just saying. He murdered your family, Jemma. Figuring he'll leave you alone now that you've left your only safe haven is a bit stupid.”
“I said shut up.”
“I'm just saying.”
“Please—”
“No.”
“Fine.”
I let out a groan and buried my face in my hands. The stupid jerk was as stubborn as I was. How did I not know this sooner? Why'd I tell him I was leaving in the first place? Not telling him would've saved me a whole lot of trouble. I sighed and dropped my hands finally, turning my eyes up to glare at him. Only, my eyes didn't make it that far.
On the opposite side of the street stood a guy around my age, probably nineteen or so. Normally I wouldn't have noticed him since he didn't have anything that would make him stand out. He looked to be my height, maybe a little taller, with light brown hair that was sticking up thanks to the wind blowing ever so helpfully. His attire consisted of a hoodie and jeans with sneakers. The complete definition of normal—except for the fact that he was staring.
At me.
Chills splintered ice shards down my spine and I cupped my elbows in my hands. Something was off about this guy, but I couldn't tell what. Heck, the simple fact that he was staring at me should've been enough to give me the creeps, but that wasn't it. He could've simply overheard the argument Lyle and I was having and looked over, at the exact same time I'd dropped my hands and caught him watching. Except for the fact that when he noticed that I was staring back, he didn't look away quickly in chagrin. He just kept staring.
I was starting to feel queasy and my knees were starting to weaken. I grabbed onto Lyle's arm and held on for dear life, never removing my gaze from the guy's across the street. When I clutched at Lyle's arm, though, the strange guy followed my movement and broke our little game of who could stare at the other the longest. Which effectively broke whatever spell that he'd had over me. It returned, however, when he returned his eyes to my own a moment later.
He raised an eyebrow, a small twitch of the lips indicating he found my current predicament amusing. He took one hand out of his hoodie pocket and extended an index finger, pressing it against his lips. The whole time, his eyes told me he was silently laughing at me. Then he dropped his hands, and his eyes, and proceeded down the street in the opposite direction. Not once looking back.
As he walked away, I was finally able to suck in the breath I hadn't noticed I'd been holding. My heart beat rapidly against my ribcage, reprimanding me for withholding oxygen from it for so long. I loosened my grip on Lyle's arm, wincing when I realized that I'd left marks on the sleeve of his shirt—which meant his skin probably had it a bit worse.
“Jemma!”
I glanced up at him, eyes widening. “What?”
“What just happened?” he asked, his eyebrows drawn down in concern. I realized he'd probably been trying to get my attention the whole time Creepy-Guy and I had been having a stare down. “And who was that?”
I grabbed onto Lyle's face to keep him from looking back at the guy who'd scared the life out of me, even though he'd already disappeared from sight. “I don't know,” I told him honestly, biting my lip, “but I didn't get a good feeling off the guy.” I frowned. “Please go back to the academy.”
“No,” Lyle snapped, letting his irritation show. “If I wasn't going to let you convince me to go back before, I sure as heck am not gonna let you talk me into leaving you out here alone now.”
“Lyle—”
He shook his head. “No, Jemma, I'm not going back,” he said, pushing past me. “End of discussion.”
I sighed and followed behind him. Why couldn't he see how dangerous it was for him to be out here, and especially around me? I had a murderer after me, for Pete's sake; I was probably the only one who was going to get him killed out of everyone he knew. Stupid Bane and his stupid stubbornness. I'd say if he died it wasn't my fault, but it probably would be. Stupid murderer and his stupid murderous tendencies.
I slunk after Lyle, keeping my head down and my lips shut. With the occasional feeling like I was being watched, I didn't really have much of my brain left to pay attention to keeping a conversation up with him. Especially when he was probably still mad at me. What was I going to say, anyway? “Oh, what beautiful weather we're having tonight”? One, that was the most stupid thing in the history of anything, and two, he'd probably look back at me as if I'd grown two heads for trying to start a conversation that way.
I didn't pay attention to where we were going while we walked. He could've been leading me back to the academy for all I knew, I wouldn't have known until he'd led me straight to my room. As it was, he led me straight into a McDonald's and over to a booth without me noticing until he'd slid into the seat.
Blinking, I glanced around. “Lyle,” I muttered, frowning. “I don't think it's a good idea to stop, staying still will only make us sitting ducks...”
“Oh, so I'm allowed to come with you now?”
I glanced over at him sharply. “Excuse me?” My eyes narrowed and I leaned my hands on the table, toward him. “Look, I get it. You're unhappy with me because you think I'll get killed, but you know what? I don't think you'll get killed, I know. Everyone who's ever been associated with me has died: my parents, Sam, and—” I realized where my mind was going and slammed my mouth shut.
“And?”
I sat down across from him and twisted a lock of hair around my finger. Eventually, I sighed and glanced out the window at the sleeping town. “You know when I told you I'd died in a car accident?” I said, watching a car drive lazily by.
“Not one of my fondest memories, but yeah.”
“I wasn't the only one,” I sighed, glancing down at my hands clasped on the table. “There were two people from child services or something—I never really found out. Anyway, a deer ran into the middle of the road and we hit it, flying off the road and down the side of the hill we were driving on. The two people who had come to get me were dead by the time the car stopped rolling down the road and had landed on its side.”
Lyle was silent; whether processing the information or reevaluating the situation, I didn't know. I really hoped he was thinking about going back to the academy without me, though.
I breathed in deeply. “Do you see why I want you to go back now?”
“No.”
I glanced up at him sharply. “No, you don't see, or no, you aren't going back?” I asked slowly, my finger twisting another lock of hair. Catching myself, I dropped my hand and frowned. When had I started that habit?
“No, I'm not going back.”
I let out a frustrated sigh and leaned back, glancing around the rather empty fast food restaurant. The workers were in the back doing what they would normally do around closing, the sounds of dishes clanging together meeting my ears from across the restaurant. A worker had come out when we'd walked in, but had returned to the back when we'd simply found seats and sat down. Two other people—girls—were across the room, neither paying attention to us.
We were, essentially, alone.
I bit the inside of my lip and glanced back at Lyle. “Why not?” I asked quietly, pushing hair out of my eyes. “And don't say, 'We die together.' No one is ever that selfless.”
Irritation flashed in his eyes and he leaned on his elbows toward me. “Yeah, you're right,” he agreed, his face dark. “I'm not that selfless. In fact, I'm being selfish in this case.”
I frowned, but didn't say anything.
“I'm not willing to sit back at the academy, knowing that you're out here, possibly dead,” he continued. His voice was low. “I love you, Jem, and until I don't, I'm staying by your side through it all.”
“So...if I become really freaking annoying, you'll go back to the academy?”
He blinked once, slowly. “What?”
“Well, I figure, if I'm really annoying, you won't love me anymore and you'll go back to the academy.”
His head hit the table and I cringed. “Jemma,” he groaned, rubbing the red spot on his forehead as he came back up.
“What?” I exclaimed as he glared at me. “Don't give me that look, it's your fault you decided to slam your head on the table.”
“Why is it so bad that I love you?”
I put my head in my hands and groaned. “You know why,” I told the table. Unlike the boy across from me, I hadn't slammed my head on the table when I'd laid it down.
Lyle was silent and I couldn't bring myself to talk. The silence dragged on, still neither of us spoke. I could just barely hear the girls across the room from us, their voices nothing more than a whisper in my ears. An uneasy feeling slithered up my spine, raising the hairs on the back of my neck. I lifted my head slowly and glanced around.
Lyle was staring out the window with this jaw clenched. A vein in his jaw worked, rather visibly in the florescent lighting of the fast food joint. I pressed my lips together and searched the restaurant. I could feel someone watching me, but no one was even glancing in my direction.
Then the bell above the door dinged.
I jumped, my heart beating the inside of my ribcage relentlessly. Letting out a breath and telling myself I was overreacting, I glanced towards the door and froze. The boy from across the street stood just inside the doorway. His eyes surveyed the empty fast food joint before coming to land on me. They were yellow.
Okay, well, maybe not yellow. But they were a brown closer to gold than to the brown Lyle's eyes were. As it was, the boy in the doorway raised one thick eyebrow at me and smiled crookedly. Then he turned and left.
“I-I'll be right back,” I muttered, slipping out of the booth and hurrying to the door.
“Wh—” Lyle's voice was cut off as the door shut behind me.
I glanced both ways down the street, searching for the boy. He wasn't in sight either direction. Frustration overcame me and I blew out a breath, running my hands through my hair repeatedly. I started to turn around, to head back to Lyle, when movement caught my eye.
The boy was walking down the street, away from me.
“Hey!” I shouted, trying to get his attention. “Hey, who are you?”
He didn't even acknowledge that I was making noise, he just kept walking. Pressing my lips together, I glanced back at Lyle in the McDonald's. I was going to contemplate following the boy or heading back to Lyle—read again, “going to”—but what I saw made my decision for me. Indignant, I stopped in front of the table.
“Who are you?” I asked, eying the two girls now sitting with Lyle. To his credit, Lyle actually looked embarrassed to be seen with them—and who could blame him? Both of them were dressed like they should've been at a strip club and not a fast food restaurant, especially the raven-haired chick sitting next to him.
“Ge lost, loser,” she snapped, popping her gum annoyingly. “We saw him first.”
“Yeah,” the blonde one agreed in a high-pitched, nasally voice. “We saw him first.”
I pursed my lips and narrowed my eyes at the two of them. “Oh, you saw him first?” The two girls nodded triumphantly, a smirk plastered on each of their faces. “Well, I find that hard to believe,” I told them, leaning my hands on the table and looking the raven-haired girl in the eye.
Her smirk fell and she looked at me with utter disdain. “Why?” she snapped defensively. She looked me up and down, from my worn, one-size-too-big hoodie to my ratty sneakers. “And have you seen you? What makes you think that he'd be interested in that?”
I chuckled humorlessly. She was wearing a shirt that was many sizes too small; so small, in fact, that I thought her chest was going to jump out of her shirt and walk away. Not to mention, her shorts were much too short for her, honestly, not-curvaceous body and she had applied her make-up on so thickly, it came out to about a foot from her face. If anyone could've just asked that question, it was me to her—and especially about my own boyfriend.
“First off, you look like a slut,” I told her, making it a point to look her up and down like she had done to me. “If he was looking for a relationship, he wouldn't be looking at you—” I turned to the blonde, who was dressed a bit more modest than her dark-haired friend— “or you.” Leaning away from the two girls, I pointed at Lyle. “Second, that's my boyfriend. That's what makes me think he'd be interested in me.”
When I looked at the boy in question, his lips were twitching as if he was trying to refrain from bursting out in laughter. The dark-haired girl, however, didn't seem to understand what I'd just said.
She smiled condescendingly and turned to the blond. “Aw, look Angie, the freak's deluded herself into thinking she's in his league,” she said, her bottom lip jutting out as she suppressed a laugh. The blond—Angie—didn't bother to cover her snicker.
I was about to slap the Wonder Sluts silly. “Okay, Miss Priss,” I started, pressing my palms into the table. “You, in no way, can act like you're better than me. For starters, you have to wear the skimpiest clothes in the world just to even get a guy to look in your direction. And second, you have to throw yourself at him like it isn't obvious enough you're desperate for the opposite gender's attention. Now stand up.”
She scoffed, but had the decency to look wary. “Why?”
“Because I'm grabbing my boyfriend and leaving,” I snapped, getting fed up with her antics.
I waited a moment, and when she didn't move, grabbed her wrist and yanked her to her feet. “Lyle, c'mon,” I snapped, glaring down at the first Wonder Slut. Sometimes it was good to be taller than most people.
“She knows your name?” Angie whined; she pouted over at Lyle like she couldn't believe he'd tell me and not them.
“Yes, bimbo number two,” I sighed, anger and exasperation mixing together until I couldn't tell the difference between the two. “He's told me his name. It might have something to do with the fact that we've known each other for the past eleven years!”
The raven-haired chick stamped her foot impatiently and I dropped her wrist. “Angie, let's go,” she snapped, sticking her nose in the air and crossing her arms. “As yummy-licious as this guy is, he's not worth being pestered by this freak all night.”
Yummy-licious...? Where does one even come up with a word like that?
I slipped back into the booth, sitting across from Lyle, as the two bimbos sauntered away. “You let them touch you,” I muttered, forcing my gaze off the bimbo sluts at the counter. Lyle was staring at the table, his cheeks tinged pink in either embarrassment or shame, I didn't know. “You know what this means, right?”
His gaze lifted to mine slowly. “What?”
“We have to boil you in a gigantic cauldron now to get their icky germs off of you.”
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A/N:
You guys know what's coming next! :P Just wait until the sign below is gone--or another note pops up allowing you to continue--and then you can continue the rest of the story!
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