Catching Temptation (In Darkness She Fades (Book 1) Page 3
The wind whistles through the cracked window, reminding me of my strange moment with the motorcycle gang. “Probably the town’s wannabe bad-asses,” I speak my thoughts aloud. Tomorrow ends my last day of freedom before school. Friends are fine, but minimal attachments mean an easier life. I do not want to get hurt again. Everyone dies. Nothing is timeless.
The following day Daniel and Nathaniel run off after lunch, leaving the majority of the unpacking to Aunt Sally and I. Uncle Jack calls mid-afternoon and, to Aunt Sally’s dissatisfaction, says he will be arriving in a couple of weeks. By suppertime, we finish hauling the white tarps off the furniture.
After a filling supper of fried chicken and biscuits, I stumble up to my bedroom. Following a long bath, I slip beneath the crisp sheets of my bed. The house hums lullabies and whistles tunes to lull its sleeping occupants into a dreamy wonderland. I love the idea of having the most individual room in the old-fashioned house, but the noise makes me uneasy. I toss and turn most of the night. Waking up several times to the sound of creaking, I swear I heard footsteps. Once or twice, I thought someone breathed across the side of my neck. I only manage to sleep with the light on and a baseball bat tucked underneath one arm. When the morning sun bursts through my window, I realize the source of the strange breathing came from a cracked window I forgot to close.
I fumble to dress myself for the first day of school. My nerves kick in. “Stop it,” I say to my stomach. “You’ll only make it worse for me.”
In front of the mirrors on the wardrobe, I inspect my black outfit. D-rings and chains hang from my pants, complimenting my corset-style shirt with long bell sleeves. I decide to leave my hair down and use natural toned make-up, except for my eyelids, which I dust with a shimmering silver powder and black eyeliner. If my unapproachable clothing does not scare people, I know the bindi tattoo across my forehead will. It practically screams pagan. “Wonder if I’m setting myself up to be crucified.”
“More like you’re ready burn at the stake,” Daniel drones from the doorway. “Are you trying to terrify everyone at school? I hope you realize I’m going to school too and I don’t want your freak reputation.” He stomps down the hallway, forcing the wiggling spiders to flee for their lives.
The ceilings tower so high above Aunt Sally’s head, she had to spare a few spiders and their webs when she cleaned the hallway the other day. If Daniel keeps up his temper-tantrums, I will not have to worry about slaying those rogue spiders.
A little fly buzzes in graceful movements in the air, oblivious to its surroundings. With another twirl, it rams into a spider’s web; caught forever in the tangled simplicity of a net. It will never escape the death trap. The tragedy may have been avoided, if only the little insect paid attention to the danger all around his world. I marvel at the irony of how the flies’ life equals my own.
I swing my Indy bag over my shoulder and dash downstairs. As I enter the kitchen, I notice Daniel’s expression.
Crap, here it comes.
“Mom, make her change! I don’t want people to give me crap–”
“Daniel–!”
“–because she can’t be normal.”
“Your normal and my normal are two completely different things. If you don’t like the way I look, make up a last name, and say we’re not related,” I say. “Our skin color is entirely different anyway. I doubt people would even be able to tell I had a white father.”
“Absolutely not!” Aunt Sally cuts into our argument. “You shouldn’t be ashamed of your father, Temptation, and you do look white. What’s wrong with–?”
“She has a point,” Daniel says, to everyone’s amazement. “But I have a better idea. I’ll tell everyone you’re adopted.”
“Daniel!”
“Works for me.”
Aunt Sally blinks at me, apparently lost for words. Nathaniel breaks the tension when he points out the time. Ten minutes until school starts. Within one minute, everyone loads up in the car and we speed into town.
“Great. We still have to register.” Daniel checks his hair in the passenger mirror. He attempted to tame his haystack hair with gel, but managed to make it look like thousands of tiny needles poking out of his head. He plays the part of a celebrity pop star well.
My muscles tense and ache with a burning desire to yank Daniel’s head back. The idea of him not having everything the way he wanted scores as an unobtainable pleasure.
Daniel gives himself a satisfied smirk in the mirror.
The car arrives at Rosewood High School. Daniel and I hurry out. We shut the car doors and Aunt Sally drives off to Nathaniel’s school, leaving the two of us in a cloud of suffocating dirt and crushed gravel. I swat the dirt from my clothes while Daniel rushes to the school with a harsh warning to, “Stay away from me!” He struts to the school doors and disappears behind them.
With a doubtful frown, I amble up to the front doors and step into the dully-lit hallway. Pleased to see multiple lines at the registration booths, I wait at the nearest one to the exit. The damning eyes of the female students cause my fears to rise. No friends will come from this crowd. Daniel slouches in the back of a line talking to a couple of guys dressed like heavy metal rock stars.
“What a little hypocrite,” I mutter.
Only the side profiles of the two guys are visible, but I immediately know they are twins. Shoulder-length hair feathers out around their faces. The singular distinct difference between them is one has lightning orange hair and the other, onyx hair.
Daniel and the twins roar with laughter.
I cannot contain a budding twinge of jealousy toward my cousin. A few girls behind me whisper and cackle to each other. It appears they think I cannot hear their mock whispers. They are dead wrong.
“Look at the way she’s dressed.”
“–Probably worships the devil or some Hindu God–”
“–Jenkins is going to have his hands full with this one.”
Their whispers confirm my fears of prejudges toward new students. In the crowd, I cannot see a difference between any of the girls. No Goth chicks. This sucked.
“Next!”
I step forward, inspecting the older woman sitting behind the cheap foldout table. Her gray hair frames her oval face, while a pair of tiny spectacles rests on the tip of her pinched nose.
“Mercy – look at you!” The old woman removes her reading glasses to get a better look at me. Her nails, the color of dirt and mustard, distract me from the taunts of the crowd. “I declare, this is the first time in years since we’ve had someone who has shown a spark of individuality. Love the nose ring. Unfortunately, it’s not allowed to be worn in school, but I’ll not make you remove it. It’s not my job.” She winks. “By the way, I’m Mrs. Peters. I work as the librarian and after-school choir teacher. What’s your full name, Dearie?”
“My – Oh.” Slightly taken aback by the speed at which the old woman spoke, I shook my temporary confusion away. “Temptation Belladonna Falls. It’s nice to meet you Mrs. Peters–”
“What a poisonous name. Delicious. It delivers a ring of death to it.” The black haired twin speaks softly over my shoulder. The noise from the other students mutes as if someone turns the volume down so the surrounding voices are almost inaudible.
I crane my neck to observe his face, but he departs as swiftly as he arrived. The noise spikes back to normality. “Weird.”
“What, Dearie?”
I jab a thumb behind me and say, “That guy is weird.”
“What guy?” Mrs. Peters’ eyebrows scrunch together, while observing the awaiting students in line.
“The heavy metal guy who spoke in my ear a second ago.”
“I didn’t see anyone. You glanced over your shoulder, but no one was there. Oh! You must have heard one of the students nearby and thought they were talking to you. Happens to me all the time.” Mrs. Peters smiles and extends her withered hand for my transcript papers. “Getting down to business, we’ll have you registered in no time. What electiv
es would you like to take?”
“Art. I love to draw and paint. Guess I wouldn’t mind taking a dance class as long as I don’t have to do anything in front of the school.”
“What about choir? Do you sing at all?” Mrs. Peters pierces me with her hypnotic gray eyes.
A chilling wave of memories prickles the hairs on my skin. Flashes of the car crash speed through my mind. My sheet music for that night’s performance flying all over the car, dotted with flecks of blood. “No. I’m sorry Mrs. Peters, but I’m horrible at singing.”
“Shame, we needed another singer.” Mrs. Peters finishes her scribbles on the paperwork. “Here’s your class schedule. You will need to get your photo taken for your school ID. Please take advantage of the library; we have an excellent young adult section.” She winks.
“Thank you.” I abandon the foldout table and stroll over to the line for photo ID cards. Ten minutes later, I clip the ID tag on my black widow pendant. A group of skaters chill out on one of the lunch tables. Marching up to the group, I say, “What’s up?”
An awkward moment of silence causes me to feel like an idiot. The skaters’ blank stares do not help the numbness pumping through my veins. “Could one of you tell me where Mr. Hollenbeck’s Biology class is? I’m sort of new.”
“Sort of new.” The girl with brown dreadlocks speaks up. A nasty smell wafts off her hair. “No. You’re either new or you’re not. There’s no sort of about it. Dang, I’m not even that stupid when I’m stoned. Pathetic.” The girl’s sinister eyes square me off before disregarding me altogether.
The boys do not interfere, but their anticipation for a catfight reflects from the eagerness in their eyes.
I am not amused. “Look, miss-reeks-a-lot, I didn’t come over here to get a stupid answer of what you think of me. I asked where Mr. Hollenbeck’s class is. But I guess a pothead like you already smoked yourself stupid if you can’t even recollect one question.”
Skater girl jumps up. “I’ll drain you for dinner–”
One of boys, scrawny and tall, snatches the skater girl’s raised fist.
“Whelan let me go!”
Whelan ignores the fidgeting girl and points down the jammed hallway. “Go out into the courtyard in the middle of the school and you’ll see the sign on one of the doors.”
“Thanks.” I desert the harassed skater girl to the encouragement of her friends. Abandoning the cafeteria, I stride toward the courtyard. “So much for starting over.” Pulling out my phone, I insert my earphones, and tune out the material world suffocating every happy emotion left within. I do not understand why the drumming rock music calms me down, but I embraced it. Arm and hip shove the metal door, and I enter the sunlit courtyard. The chains on my pants ping together while I stride down the sidewalk. A giant maple tree shades the middle of the courtyard. A group of students congregates beneath the bushy branches. Surveying the crowd more closely, I notice Daniel in the group. A snooty-looking girl sneers in my direction. The orange-haired twin wraps his arms around the girl’s waist. His eyes find mine. He smirks.
I returned my attention to seeking out the Biology classroom, ignoring the couple. Arriving at the door, I reach for the smudged handle.
“New girl!”
I freeze. Twisting my rigid body back to the gathering students, I remove the earphones.
Slightly above the crowd, the other twin lounges on the stiff bark up in the tree. He slouches forward on a curvy branch. His muscular arms bulge against the branch. No wonder he’s so popular. Probably has a big…ego, too.
“If you’re depressed, I know a way to make your troubles disappear.” His bewitching grin seems as sweet as frosting and as deadly as poison. I know I cannot trust him.
It must be mess-with-Temptation-week. The gleam in his eyes causes a burst of blush to redden my cheeks. Daniel laughs with the rest of the crowd.
The girl with the fire-haired twin yells, “I’ll give you something to make you hallucinate, then you can pretend you have friends.”
The crowd snickers. Daniel shouts, “She doesn’t need any help with hallucinations. Two days ago she swore she saw monsters in skeleton masks.” Daniel and most of the crowd laughs; the twins, however, stare at me as if frightened and fascinated by what they heard. The brunette girl shifts and wraps the orange-haired twin’s arms tighter around her pale shoulders.
The restraint in me snaps. “Go to Hell, Daniel! The rest of you can join him.” I thrust the classroom door open and inwardly curse the creatures who resurrected me from the dead, as well as the monster who scolded my suicide attempts. It’s not fair.
Chapter Three
Tormented
The bell rings, excusing me from the teacher’s monotonous lecture. I sigh. Murmurs and tantalizing stares never cease. Several of the girls snickered behind me in class and I vowed I would start sitting in the back row to avoid their repetitive taunts.
My phone rings.
Crap. I forgot to change the ring tone to vibrate. Rushing into the nearest bathroom, I hide in one of the stalls, and check my messages.
Karma sent me the text, What’s wrong? Call me.
It still amazes me that Karma knows when I am upset, even at a thousand miles away. A few months after I befriended Karma, I hit another wave of depression, and seriously debated jumping from my third-story window. Karma arrived in ten minutes with pizza and soda to drown my sorrows. Once she brought over an Ouija board when I thought about using one to talk to my parents. It ended in disaster. Turns out it is the creature’s favorite tool for pranks.
I punch in Karma’s number.
“Hey, is everyone really that mean to you today? I swear my heart is bleeding and turning to stone at the same time. I know it’s you.”
“Karma, I hate it here. These people are weird. Weirder than us in some ways.”
“Who on earth could be weirder than us?”
“These twin guys. They freak me out. Everyone idolizes them.”
“Typical high school jocks.”
I lean against the metal stall, trying not to inhale too much. “No. They’re not full Goth, but they have a Rock star edge.”
“Maybe it’s what’s cool in Michigan. Remember you’re in another state.”
Voice shaking, I say, “They know something about the creatures.”
Silence.
“Daniel kinda blurted out my hallucination problem in front of half of the students–”
“The little punk! Oh, I wish – no. No. Sorry. I’m not evil.”
Karma carries a deep fear of wishing harm on people. I suspect the things she wishes will actually come true, but I never press the subject.
“Sorry. Had a moment. Tell me the rest.”
“Everybody in the crowd laughed, but not the twins. Karma they looked scared. Like I’d discovered some huge secret.”
“Maybe you did. Didn’t the monster from your dream say Rosewood needed you? It might be a good idea to snoop a bit. See if you can find any info out about Rosewood’s history. Never know. Might find something about witchcraft or even paranormal sightings.”
“Good point.”
“Are the creatures at least staying away.”
I stop fiddling with my hair. “You know, I haven’t seen any except for the one in the woods and the one in my bedroom. But I haven’t seen them anywhere in school. I didn’t even realize it.”
“Guess it’s a small blessing. Since I’ve calmed you down, I gotta go. Late for class.”
“Didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”
“Anything for you, Temptation. Miss ya.”
“Miss you, too.” I stash the phone back in my bag and exit the bathroom. I stroll into the school library prior to my last class before lunch. Thousands of adventures locked away in crisp yellow and white pages greet my aching eyes. The scent of the aging books drains my problems away. My books at home are still stashed away in a box. At least one way to escape from reality without getting stoned encircles me with endless options.
“Be done before the end of the week,” I state, cheeks flaming with embarrassment at being a bookworm. “Fast reader.”
Mrs. Peters holds up one of my books. “Paranormal Creatures: Are They Real?” She studies me over her thick reading glasses. “Interesting subject.”
I began twisting the ends of my hair. Mrs. Peters’ stare intimidates me, but the biker gang still holds first place in the freak-out department.
“Tell you what.” Mrs. Peters hands me the books. “I own an old but one-of-a-kind novel about a very strange tale of paranormal accounts. I’ll let you borrow it if you’re careful with it. I have the only copy that I’m aware of.”
“Are you sure? I mean – I’d love to read it, but why would you trust me with it?”
“You are very different, Temptation. And different is what this town needs; now…here’s my address.” Mrs. Peters hands over a business card. “I’m leaving to go home and I’ll be there until six tonight. You can come by after school to pick it up.”
“Cool sh– I mean, cool.”
The bell rings, signaling my next torture session. I give a rushed, “good-bye,” to Mrs. Peters. I deposit my books in my bent locker. Slamming it shut, I merged with the crowd. Students budge one another in an attempt to make it to their last class before lunch. The revolting aroma of perfume and musty bodies floats in the air.
Disgusting.
As I tiptoe along the side of the hall to avoid trampling feet, a backpack knocks me off balance, forcing me to grab the nearest person.
“God! Learn how to walk, Freak!”
“Sorry. Didn’t see you–” Recognizing whom I collided against, I stop my apology at once.
The girl from the courtyard with the vicious attitude sneers. “Maybe you ought to get some glasses, and then we can call you a freak and a nerd.”