Double Life - Book 1 of the Vaiya Series (4 page)

Mouth distorted in terror, Alan slid a little
ways on the terrazzo floor and hit his face on the side of the
water fountain, denting his glasses.

Watching this pitiful scene, Eddy laughed
sadistically, even offering a hand to Alan, which he wisely
refused.

Backing away hurriedly, Alan scuttled across
the floor like a cockroach, depleting his last reserves of dignity,
and then, once he was a safe distance from Eddy, stood up and
bolted away, leaving Ian in mad disbelief. Though Eddy had often
terrorized Alan, sometimes deeply hurting his feelings, this act
was easily one of the worst. He almost didn’t even pity Eddy
anymore for having to deal with Skyler. It seemed he deserved it
now.

Taking his gaze off Alan, Ian turned over to
Eddy and just glared at him, fury and rage enveloping every pore of
his body: “Eddy! Leave him alone already. I’m sick of this.”

But Eddy just laughed. “Ha. What are you, my
mom?” he asked, hiding his broad smile under a childish grin while
chuckling to himself.

“Quit it, man.” Ian gripped the doorknob to
his Spanish II class, which was conveniently rather close to his
chem class. “You’re not even listening to me.”

Eddy brazenly shrugged. “Yeah, I am. But I’m
not gonna take your advice.”

“And why’s that?” Frowning dangerously, Ian
moved away from the door to let a few other students into the
classroom, who skirted around him not sparing a glance.

Eddy only smirked. “Because he’s an extreme
loser. Anybody with his geeky personality deserves to be
bullied.”

He’d gone too far. “Knock it off!” He jabbed
Eddy hard in the ribs with his elbow, sending him backwards a few
inches.

Surprise burst from Eddy’s eyes as he winced
in agony. Though he looked ready to retaliate, Ian knew he wouldn’t
as he rarely if ever did so. Besides hurting Alan occasionally,
Eddy was surprisingly rather nonviolent and unaggressive.

And, true to his past nature, Eddy merely
gave him a cold stare and backed away from him angrily. “Cool off,
man. It’s not a big deal.”

Ian just grit his teeth. “Yeah it is.”

Eddy just shook his head around, disgusted.
“Whatever. You need to calm down, man.” Rubbing his side and
groaning to himself, he reluctantly followed his friend into
Spanish class, trailing cautiously behind him as if expecting
another jab.

Arriving home from school, Ian glanced at his
mom who was multitasking once again. Holding her stylish purple
cell phone between her shoulder and ear, she was chatting rather
loudly on it, while making a homemade pie crust.

Walking past her without saying a word, Ian
headed straight for his room where he laid back on his bed, weary
from the day. Eddy was really getting on his nerves; he was
becoming the classic stereotypical bully. Worse, nothing he’d said
to him made any difference--it was as if Eddy’s ears were stuffed
with cotton.

Mentally exhausted, Ian soon dozed off into a
troubled sleep about Professor Edwards and Coach Sandler plotting
in the dark alleyways about how best to kill him. Then his dream
radically changed to Eddy hiding a knife in his pocket and sneaking
up on an unsuspecting Alan who was busy mixing chemicals. Just
before Eddy got to Alan, his dream switched again; this time, Eddy
was being chased by Skyler, who hurried after him, despite his
broken ankle, and tried to maim him with a Samurai sword.

An hour later, after a stream of more
colorful nightmares, Ian awoke with a start. Perhaps Sandler
had
truly cursed him; his dreams were never this violent.
Breathing heavily, he crawled out of bed and after steadying his
feet began to throw red and black darts at his dartboard. He needed
to calm down--things weren’t as bad as they seemed; Hazel had
personally invited him to her party and had seemed genuinely
friendly. Why should he let Eddy’s bullying behavior and a few bad
dreams ruin his day?

Somewhat consoled by those thoughts, he
played darts for half an hour, until he grew tired of it, and
sitting on his bed, yawning, he thought of what to do next. On a
normal day, when he was sick of playing darts, he would’ve run on
the country roads--but not today. Doing so would only remind him of
his conversation with Coach Sandler, a conversation he badly wanted
to forget. No, he had to do something else.

Thinking over his other options, Ian decided
to shoot hoops outside. Although it wasn’t his favorite sport, as
running took that place in his heart, he still enjoyed it.

An hour and fifteen minutes later, much
longer than he usually shot hoops, his mom opened the front door
and yelled out at him, “Ian! Supper’s ready!”

Trudging inside, annoyed, as he’d just made
an impressive shot from twenty feet away and wanted to replicate
it, Ian flopped down by the dinner table and ate a plate of mashed
potatoes drizzled with gravy, a piece of moist cornmeal bread, and
two smoked summer sausages drizzled with barbeque sauce. For
dessert, he had a mouthwatering slice of homemade apple pie topped
with whipped cream and hot caramel sauce, a delicacy that he
devoured in less than a minute.

Finishing his food much faster than his
parents, older brother, and younger sister did, he then dismissed
himself from the dinner table, hurried out of the kitchen, and
leapt up the living room stairs two at a time.

As he reached the upstairs hallway, he turned
left and approached his partly closed bedroom door, shoving it open
with his right elbow, before hurrying into the room, soon flinging
open the top drawer of his antique wooden dresser that held his
five pairs of blue jeans.

After yanking out a pair of ripped, faded
jeans, with holes above and below the kneecaps, and finding a plain
white t-shirt, he dashed towards the large closet in the back of
the room, where with some careful consideration, he picked out his
best dress shirt--a short-sleeved blue shirt with a fancy
collar--and a stylish black leather jacket, which a member of a
local motorcycle gang might wear.

Hurrying into the bathroom, he locked the
door and took a quick shower, perhaps using more soap and shampoo
than usual. Once he’d dried himself completely off, he slipped his
clothes on, slid on a pair of black dress shoes, and placed a
baseball cap, beige-colored and loose fitting, onto his head.

As soon as he’d finished dressing, he heard
loud honking outside; it must be Eddy in his new Mazda 3.

Brushing his teeth rapidly, he then slipped
his cell phone and a packet of peppermint gum into his pocket,
dashed down the wooden staircase, said goodbye to his mom and dad,
who’d just gotten done eating and were reading the newspaper
together, and bolted outside. His friends, Eddy and Darien, awaited
him in the driveway.

“Hey, man.” Eddy rolled down the window of
his blue sports sedan as Ian rushed over to it. “We’ve been waiting
two minutes. What’s the holdup?”

“I didn’t expect you to come so soon,” he
said somewhat irritably, as he flung open the back door of the
vehicle and slipped in, not caring to buckle up.

Backing out of the driveway, Eddy looked into
the interior mirror and merely smirked at him: “Trying to look good
for the ladies is a full time job, isn’t it?”

“Could be.” He went along with his friend’s
joke, even though for some reason it irked him.

“I knew it.” A sly grin fell on Eddy’s face.
“So, which girl you gonna talk to the most tonight?”

“I don’t know,” he replied, somewhat tense,
as he stretched out his legs to ease his discomfort. “I guess it
depends on who talks to me first.” Pausing slightly, he then added
with an unconcerned tone, “Who knows though? I might not even talk
to any.”

Eddy just laughed at this. “Hah. That’d be a
first.” Pulling out onto the highway, he screeched his tires,
before accelerating far quicker than was necessary, adding with a
daring grin, “I bet you’re gonna talk to Hazel or Tianna, aren’t
you, man?”

Ian pushed his baseball cap farther down on
his face and pretended to gaze at the scenery outside. “Uh … well,
we’ll see how that pans out.”

Laughing, Eddy slapped his hands against the
steering wheel. “Ha! I’m gonna start calling you the trapdoor
spider, man.” He paused to control his emotions. “Let me see, I’ll
just sit back in a corner and wait until some girl talks to me. If
not, I’ll just chat with the furniture.”

Attempting a smile, Ian settled for a
deflated frown. “That’s hardly a fair analogy, Eddy.”

Eddy just shook his head. “Nah, you just hate
it because it’s true. You’ve gotta be more aggressive, man. Girls
love that.”

With a shrug, indifference chiseled into his
face, Ian ignored him and stared out the window as trees and
telephone poles flew by, while Darien grinned softly to
himself.

Ten minutes later, and a lot of loud music,
Eddy turned down onto a road that led into the middle of the woods
where Hazel’s mansion was located. The house was out in the middle
of nowhere, away from the bustling city.

As Eddy turned down the long paved driveway,
which twisted this way and that like a snake, Ian noticed the
mansion up ahead in the distance, which was decorated for Halloween
in four days. Carved pumpkins of various sizes lined the driveway
on both sides; pine trees lit up the sky with white and orange
hues; and speakers, stationed every ten feet or so under the trees,
sent sinister noises into the autumn air reminiscent of wolves
howling, witches cackling, thunder rumbling, or other ghostly
Halloween sound effects.

Parking next to a yellow Jaguar, Eddy and his
friends got out of the sedan and gazed up at the mansion towering
above them. It would have looked great any day, but decorated for
Halloween it was a wonder to behold: glistening cobwebs lined every
one of the twenty-two windows that protruded from the edifice, and
large creepy spiders dangled down from them; long black bats and
gargoyles stood perched on the many grand balconies, staring down
at them as if ready to swoop down and bite them; and deathly white
skeletons hung on the grayish green walls, rattling back and forth
in the strong breeze.

Deeply impressed, Ian wondered how much
Hazel’s family had paid for all of these decorations, how long it’d
taken to set everything up, and how long the house would remain
decorated after Halloween. If he were Hazel’s dad, he’d at least
keep up the decorations until December.

Stepping happily along the red and brown
cobblestone pathway, which led to the house, he saw the veranda
that led to the mansion’s door all covered in a foggy mist-like
spray, thus perfectly concealing the entrance.

Awed by the mist, Ian once again found
himself pondering how much work went into all this; but catching
himself a few seconds later, he cut off those distracting thoughts
and tried to locate the door.

Using his hands to feel around under the
broad silver-colored veranda, Ian finally found the door. After
twisting open the bronze doorknob, he stepped inside, fully
expecting to see some cool Halloween costumes and expensive
decorations.

However, after glancing around him
disappointedly, he noticed that Hazel and six others were dressed
in ordinary party clothes, and there were no Halloween decorations
anywhere in sight.

Pretending not to look dispirited though, he
casually looked around him and noticed that everyone had taken off
their footwear, and so, bending down, he gradually slipped off his
own shoes, throwing them to the side onto a black oriental rug next
to a pair of pink sandals decorated with half a dozen Disney
princess stickers--must be Amanda Whitman’s. Taking his eyes off
the flamboyant sandals, while shaking his head at her ridiculous
obsession with all things Disney, he then surveyed the wide
expanse.

Fifteen feet above him hung a silvery glass
chandelier, shining its tranquil light over the whole foyer. To the
left of him was a huge living room with a fireplace, a rather large
TV, and a comfortable-looking mahogany sofa that could fit at least
four people, covered with silky black and brown pillows. To his
right stood a large stairway overspread with a maroon Persian rug
runner and guarded on both sides by two potted plants and a white
marble statue of a beautiful harp-playing angel.

As he pondered where the stairs led up to,
Hazel, studying him with her bright blue eyes, elegantly approached
him in her lovely amaranth pink dress. “Hey, you made it, Ian.”

“Yeah. I said I was coming.” He gazed
anxiously at the neatly tied carmine ribbon in her blonde hair and
then down at her creamy fleece socks; though he didn’t think it
possible, she looked even prettier here than at school.

Seemingly unaware of his scrutiny, Hazel just
smiled, remaining silent, peaceful mystery clinging to her face.
After a lengthy pause, she finally vocalized her thoughts: “Yeah, I
guess you did.” She drew out the words then added, her tone
hesitant, “So, how’d you like the decorations?”

“I loved them. They’re awesome.”

“Yeah, I know. My parents and I spent a lot
of time on them.” After tucking her fine hair behind her ears, she
folded her hands together awkwardly. “So, what do you think of the
house so far?”

“It’s great,” he said, surprised by her
shyness. At school, she’d seemed fearless when she’d talked to him.
She’d even put her hand on his shoulder. Here though, she seemed
frozen and fake, almost at a loss for words. Maybe she was only
bold when she knew what to say? Regardless, it didn’t make her any
less attractive.

Looking at Hazel, who still seemed as rigid
as an ice statue, he tried to continue the topic to ease her
discomfort: “Um … so how’d you end up getting this nice house
anyway? It’s amazing.”

His question probed her mind. She grew
silent, meditative. After some thought, she replied faintly as if
sharing an embarrassing secret, “Well, the owner sold it to my dad
for a rather reduced price.” Pausing, a faint smile on her face,
she added matter-of-factly, “He said the attic was haunted.”