A Penny's Worth (The Cephas Bourdon Series) (3 page)

Breathe, Emmaline, Breath. I took a deep breath and relaxed into my seat, then threw open the car door. My footsteps pattered across the walkway that led up to my front door. The pathway wound around the corner of our white stucco house to two white, stucco columns. A pair of lush, green plants sat beside the dark, wooden door. Original stained glass filled the space above the door, colored with blue, purple, and green. When the sun shone through the glass, a kaleidoscope of colors reflected onto the wall directly behind the door. But the sun wasn’t shining right now. I pushed open the heavy door and dropped
my book bag on the entry table.
I walked down the hallway to peer into the living room.

“Dad!” I called, flipping on the living room light. He was forever ‘saving’ electricity. “Dad!” I shouted again, though I could never be even the slightest bit put out about my father, regardless of his annoying habit to always work in the dark.

“In here, pumpkin,” a deep, resonating voice replied. I made my way to the office. The man sat in a large, black chair at an old, wooden desk. He leaned over a paper and studied it, his eyes close to the desk. Sleek, black
-
rimmed glasses sat atop his prominent nose while a pen twitched in his hovering hand. His dark hair stuck out in every direction, contradicting the stern concentration that marked his square jaw. He was quite handsome for forty
-
three. Dark eyes peered through the glasses as he glanced up, an easy smile flashing across his bronzed face.

“How’s my girl?” he asked, his arm opening up for a familiar hug. I smiled and walked over to my father, giving him a quick embrace. He held me away from him and eyed my facial features. His eyes twinkled, then softened.

“You look so much like your mother,” he said nostalgically. I rolled my eyes and pushed away.

“Oh, Dad. You know I look just like you,” I rejoined. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Don’t you want dinner?” he asked worriedly. “I got your favorite.” He smirked and nodded towards the kitchen.

“You did?” A grin spread across my childish face. I ran to the kitchen and began opening cartons of food.

“Dad, hurry! It’ll get cold!”

Chapter
2

“Girl! What are you wearing?
” The exasperated look on Marian’s seemingly flawless face made me laugh. I looked dow
n at the oversized, gray hoodie. T
he words
“
Princeton University
”
were fading with age. Grabbing at the bottom of the old piece of clothing to get a better view of the writing, I looked up sheepishly.

“You don’t like it?” I asked innocently. The nearby fire highlighted the cracking letters.

“I said to wear something
attractive
, not that old, hideous thing!”

“I know, but—”
I began to protest.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” Marian replied, throwing her hands up in the air. “I don’t
know why Chase even dates you. Y
ou can’t dress and you hate social events. Here
—
put this on, at least.” Marian spritzed a small bottle of perfume and I twirled in the mist.

“It’s because I have ambition, and he’s afraid his basketball skills won’t take him anywhere
. H
e’s going to need a sugar momma,” I laughed.

“You are so crazy,” Marian giggled. “Come on, we’re missing out on the fun!”

We ran over towards the fire. Our giggles carried into the deep, open sky, disappearing into the gray clouds that drifted through the lavender sky. Smoke wafted up and up and up, twinkling stars sprinkling the purple with heavenly light. Small fireflies began to dance around the low, green grass, and sparks from the crackling fire drifted upward as the ginger glow lit the darkening night. I stared up into the peacefulness, taking a deep breath and closing my eyes. My hands rested inside the front pockets of my old, hideous sweatshirt. I laughed silently at Marian’s outrage. I knew she was only l
ooking out for my best interest.
Chase did have standards, after all, and I did need to look like I at least put a little bit of time into myself.

Marian’s comment rang tirelessly through my head as the heat from the growing fire warmed my eyelids. ‘I don’t know why Chase even dates you,’ she had said. Why did he? Perhaps that was a better question than why I dated him. I wasn’t the kind of girl who put out, and I did, indeed, loathe social activities. Maybe he did just want to live off of me when he didn’t go anywhere. But what was my excuse? I guess I was just playing the part to get through high school. I didn’t plan on living in this boring town forever. My name would be lost forever on the wind the day after graduation. Maybe I was trying to feel something again after my mother died, but then, I knew my father loved me. Maybe I was screwed up and shallow. I laughed silently at the thought, wrapping my arms tightly around myself. The air was calm, the woods silent. Only a gentle breeze rustled the pines’ prickly leaves. My long, dark hair fluttered over my shoulder, gently curling around my ivory skin. I felt more out here from the gentle breeze than I ever had in Chase’s arms. Feeling something must not be the answer, then. A deep breath caught in my throat and my eyes flashed open to assess the sudden touch on my shoulders. The feeling of fear replaced my body’s calm feeling.

“Emma? Silly girl, haha.” Chase chuckled as he squeezed me playfully around my arms and grabbed me by the hand. “Come over here and meet someone.”

I followed obediently and blinked to recover from my fright.

“You scared me,” I laughed.

“Oh,” he replied. “My bad,” he mumbled, nodding to a friend as we passed. I looked at the hand that clasped mine. It was a big hand, a capable hand, attached to a muscular arm clothed in a dark blue, long
-
sleeved, cotton t
-
shirt. A new pair of black basketball shorts with red stripes down the sides, as well as worn red basketball shoes, completed the outfit. An ever present, light
blue baseball cap sat backwards atop his head and bleach blonde hair poked out the sides. Colorful skin showed in the glow of the approaching fire. He was the type of guy every girl dreamed of being with. His dark eyes beamed with charm and his personality burst with charisma. Somehow, though, his flattering words and overwhelming stature faded in glory as time progressed. Chase sure knew how to have a good time, and his basketball skills were more than sufficient. I was somehow stuck in this situation, though, always behaving contrary to my personality. The thought crossed my mind that I didn’t want anyone to know my personality. Did anyone? If people knew my real personality, if people really got to know me, with all my quirks and follies, would anyone really like me? It was easier to be liked just because I was Chase’s girlfriend.

I was drawn out of my reverie when our walk was brought to a halt by the tug of Chase’s large hand.

“This is one of the new guys,” Chase announced. He nodded toward a guy at the other end of the circle that encompassed the varsity basketball team. A figure stood from the bar he was leaning on and turned towards Chase’s voice. He took a step forward and stopped, his eyes widening. He squinted his eyes and opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His eyes pierced mine
—
I took a step back and my eyes narrowed. Why was he staring at me? If Chase noticed
. . .
My breath caught in my throat and I looked directly into a pair of captivating, blue eyes. A swirl of cerulean and azure painted perfect circles that contracted into a deep, black center.
The fire danced across his eyes.
I was mesmerized. I couldn’t think, and I could barely breathe. I attempted unsuccessfully to tear my gaze away
—
I had never seen such allure in one person’s being. Though I felt quite
stupid, I couldn’t help myself—
my knees began to go weak. I cleared my throat and looked away. The handsome figure looked toward Chase, who didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary.

“This is Cephas,”
Chase motioned towards him. “He’s the new guard on our team
—
just moved here. Cephas, this is my girl, Emma.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” he mumbled, then looked abruptly away. He stared off toward the distant mountain, his eyes retaining a look of concern. I looked sideways at him and allowed my eyes to travel up and down his body. He wore new basketball shoes, but new basketball shoes. Chase always wore old shoes
—
he said he played better in his old, lucky shoes
—
maybe this guy just got new shoes, but why was he wearing them to a bonfire? Maybe he wasn’t too bright
—
that was entirely possible. I dismissed the thought and continued with my observations. A long
-
sleeved t
-
shirt clung to his toned arms
—
his clothing seemed to match the people around him, but something was different. His head was shaven, and his chiseled jaw line fell into a smooth circle at his chin, maturing his facial features. His cheek bones pointed towards dark, furrowed eyebrows. His pink mouth pursed together in concentration. What could he be thinking about that was so important at a bonfire? How much could a basketball player have to think about anyway? Wow, that was rude. I
was
dating a basketball player, after all. Then maybe he wasn’t really a basketball player? No
—
Chase put him on the team, so he had to be a good player. His deep concentration was disconcerting.

I felt eyes on me and jolted from my mindless thinking. I seemed to do that quite often (think privately in public, that is). Our eyes met. Why was he looking at me like that? Cephas looked away and the left corner of his mouth turned up into a slight smile. He glanced once more at me, then followed Chase, who was beckoning him to join them in jumping over the rather large bonfire. I waited until his back was turned, then watched him go. He jogged easily over toward the group of hormone
-
filled boys to join in the competition.

“Hey! What have you been up to?” Marian bounded over towards me, shoving me playfully before tucking her hair behind her ears. “And who was that cutie you were talking to?” she asked with excitement.

“Cephas,” I mumbled, still watching the group intently.

“What? Cephas, eh? Kind of a drab name, don’t ya think?” Marian asked nonchalantly. I didn’t respond; at least, I don’t think I did.

“Hmmm. Well, you wanna go cheer for Chase?” Marian grabbed my hand and dragged me to the log near the bonfire. We sat on the makeshift bench and smiled and laughed, clapping our hands when Chase cleared the fire, booing when a freshman cheated. I was good at playing the part, and I sometimes fancied I was actually enjoying myself. At least Marian made me seem fun. I shook my head, trying to focus on the trivial game taking place in front of me. Cephas seemed to stand back, lingering near the back of the line. Was he scared? I found my eyes frequently traveling to the back of the line, intrigued that this newcomer didn’t try to prove himself like the others. My mu
sings didn’t last long, however.
Chase’s sense of competition got the best of him. He tired of beating everyone, so he challenged the newest member of the team.

“Cephas!” he shouted, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Why don’t you jump over the fire?”

Cephas let out a low chuckle and waved him off. Chase, however, was not one to give up so easily: he protested adamantly.

“Come on, Cephas. It’s not a big deal. Are ya’ scared?” he jeered. An evil smile crept across his face. Cephas looked up from where he leaned carelessly against a nearby tree and rolled his eyes. Jumping the fire appeared to be a burden to him rather than a fun competition. He walked towards the fire and was about to start running.

“Wait,” Chase interrupted, halting his competitor. “I know you can jump the fire, so let’s raise the stakes.”

Chase raised his eyebrows in question, challenging Cephas to agree. Cephas raised his brows in skepticism, though no fear shown on his chiseled face. It was soon agreed that the two basketball players would have to do a front flip over the fire. ‘It’s like doin’ a front flip up to the hoop,’ Chase had reasoned. Though I protested out of social necessity, I was secretly interested to see which of the two would be the victor. The benches were cleared away and the entire group made a large circle around the high bonfire. Chase determined that he would go first, just to make sure the flip was safe. That was Chase
—
always so chivalrous. Tonight, though, I found his chivalry annoying, perhaps because his chivalry was not that at all, but, rather, another way to show off his talent. I tried to hide my scowl of annoyance.

Chase stepped up to the line and bent his knees. When the sign was given, he ran tow
ards the fire and sprang upward. H
is heels flew over his head, forming his body into a tight ball. In an instant, a pair of worn basketball shoes landed solidly on the ground. The small crowd erupted into cheers, some patting the basketball star on the back, high fives greeting his expectant hands. A smug smile spread across his flush face. I wondered at the suddenly awkward feeling running through my veins. I often saw Chase relish in his glory
—
the cheerleaders congratulating him unceasingly, the loyal fans cheering his name in unison. He seldom acknowl
edged me, except when he found
my face and pointed at me with a smile. I always felt proud in that m
oment, and I knew it would come. W
ithout fail, Chase would make this simple gesture. I knew I oug
ht to feel a sense of belonging,
but I didn’t. I just didn’t. I felt nothing with Chase, except maybe annoyance at his controlling attitude. I wanted to feel something, even if only jealousy at the gawking cheerleaders. But I only felt longing for something I wasn‘t feeling. I didn’t even know what I wanted to feel. Just something.