Evanescence (Black Rose #1) (3 page)

            “You should go talk to her. She was at the party.”

            “Eh, no can do. I'll pass.”

            “Oh come on, Ev. Don't tell me you find her that intimidating.”

But I do, ever since grade school. She was always the girl with a head full of dark red hair. We never actually talked to each other. Perhaps I blame myself for being shy. There were times where I would watch Essence drink from the water fountain. She would push her hair back and away from her face and purse her lips to drink. When she'd finish, she'd catch her breath, fix her hair, and smile with perfect white teeth.

I also watched her during class and when called on to answer a question, I would ask to have the question repeated only to be told to focus and pay attention. On the bus rides home, she sat right behind the driver. Mike and I would sit in the back. He would talk about Bianca, but I would be in a completely different world staring at Essence who seemed to never look back or at me -- except once.

When I was being bullied in gym class, I was pushed to the floor and wouldn't dare look up at the boys and girls that laughed. But Essence never did. At least if she did laugh at me, I did not see it. When they walked away to gossip about me being weird and having no friends, I was searching for my glasses. That was the first time she spoke to me. That was also the first time she looked at me. Essence held my glasses in her hands above asking if I was okay. I found it hard to respond, but I took the glasses and ran to the bathroom. I remember placing my back against the wall and feeling angered about not being brave and not having Mike around to save me. Worst of all, Essence felt sorry for me. At least that's what I had believed.

I look at Mike and shake my head. He raises his hands surrendering.

“Fair enough, fair enough. Don't talk to her. Just saying you should try man before someone else takes that opportunity.”
            That would be heart breaking, and I can feel my stomach tying into a knot just thinking about it. Feeling this way about her is ridiculous, but then again she isn't just your average girl, at least to me she isn't. I watch her more often than I should, and she moves different from everyone else. My feelings for her are knitted deep inside my veins, her name stitched across my heart, and as extreme as it may sound, if such a procedure
is
possible, I'd secretly have it surgically performed. 
Why am I so attracted to someone I barely know or talk to?

Just another part of me I don’t understand. My feelings are like instinct, undeniable, indefinable, and unconditional. But how far would I get with a girl like her? I can picture myself saying, "Hey, want to look at my finger paintings and read my short stories?" Yeah, right. I'm just an ordinary guy with the gift of being ordinary. Simple as that.
             “One of these days I'll try to talk to her in class or something,” I say trying to sound confident and convincing.
             “Who knows? Maybe you can make
her
the addicted one.”

             I laugh hysterically in my mind. Like
that’s
possible. The first bell rings and a locker slams nearby and books hit the floor. It’s Cedric, the bullied, dark haired, mysterious, Adam’s family relative. Well, not really, but he would blend in with them. He has always been bullied like myself which is the reason I only know his first name and probably the reason he too doesn't have any friends. Lucky for me, I have Mike.
            “Idiot!” yells one of the students stepping over Cedric as he stares at them through his hair. He begins to pick up his books then our eyes meet. He glares at me like a predator sizing up its prey before attacking. He shakes his head then brushes the black hair from his face. Bianca walks by and exchanges a look with Cedric. He mumbles something under his breath and Bianca scoffs, but I miss what is said. As she passes my locker, I glance at Mike who of course is admiring her with drool. I tap his cheek with my hand.

“Is your jaw broken?” I ask trying not to laugh. He shakes his head.

“No, I’m not how you are with Essence.

“Yeah, okay. Your eyes disagree with your mouth.”

Bianca has been Mike's crush almost as long as Essence has been mine. Years. Her long blonde hair dances atop her head with each step she takes. She smiles at us, but almost immediately averts her eyes and picks up her pace. Cedric is gone. Slipping away must come easy for him.
            “You saw that?!” Mike asks with a cheesy smile.
And he says he's not how I am with Essence.

            “Yeah,” I say. "Now it's my turn to say, ‘go talk to her.’”
           “I will. You'll see. One of us has to make our move. How much longer will we procrastinate?" The second school bell rings. "And it ends today. We don't live forever. Only once.”

Chapter Three: Hiccups

            The smell of the locker room is repulsive. Sweaty gym shorts, socks, and sneakers cover the floor. I rush into my gym clothes and hurry out. Some students shoot around the basketball and some talk and giggle on the sidelines and bleachers of the gym. Mike comes out of the locker room and meets me at the three-point line. 
           “There she is,” he says. Bianca sits on the bleachers talking with her friends. 
          “You're going to go over there?” I ask.
          “Not with all her friends over there, kiddin' me?”

          “Where's all that confidence now?” I ask smirking.
          “Just waiting for the right time. You're talking to a pro here. Besides, I think she’s diggin’ me.”
                         I try to hold back my smile. Failure. My laugh escapes.

            “What makes you so sure if you've never spoken to her?”
            “At the party,” he begins. “It seemed like everywhere I went, she was following. Staring at me. She’s obviously interested."
            “Go on,” I say holding another laugh.

“And I did talk to her. When I was getting something to drink she comes over and asks me to pour some punch in her cup.” He pauses and stares at me. Did I miss something?

            “That means she wants me!” he says almost too loud catching the attention of nearby classmates.
            “Or she just wanted some punch," I say feeling embarrassed by Mike's obnoxity.
            “You're just jealous that I have a little lead on Bianca,” he smirks.
            “Hey, Mike,” calls one of our classmates. “We need an extra player.”

He passes Mike the ball. Mike looks over at Bianca who watches him from the bleachers. She smiles which I’m sure is enough to do more than boost Mike’s ego. He turns to the hoop, shoots, and sinks a three-pointer. He looks back at Bianca and smiles as she returns one.
          “Show off,” I say shaking my head with a smirk.
          “Yeah well, it's a start.”  He pats my shoulder and joins the other students in playing basketball. 
          I look over to Bianca, and she looks at me as though she wants to say something. She waves shyly, and I wave back. We've never spoke in the past, but there have been times we had the opportunity for conversation and it just never happened. It always seems as though something is bothering her. I could ask, but I wouldn't know how or where to start. There have been times where she would walk up to me and instead of saying anything, she would walk away with this embarrassed expression. I've also caught her watching me plenty of times at school. I wonder how long she would keep this up before actually saying something to me or maybe like everyone else, she thinks I'm weird.

I go into the hallway for a quick drink at the water fountain before class starts. I gulp to my fullness then hear someone coming. I turn and cause a collision.

            “Watch it!” Cedric yells stumbling back. 

            “Sorry, my mistake.”

            “You're right, it was your mistake,” he says. “Now what do you plan on doing about it?”

            “What do you mean?” I squint my eyes in confusion. 

            “Well you bumped into me.”

            “I know and I said that I was sorry.”

            “What are you going to do to make sure it doesn't happen again?” he says stepping forward.

              Is he challenging me?

            “I guess I'll be more careful.”

            “You guess?”

            What is this guy's problem? Is he really getting mad? I've apologized. What more does he expect for me to do?

            “Hello?” he calls snapping his finger.

            “Look, it was a mistake. I’ve never done anything wrong to you. I’ve never bullied or pushed you around. I don't threaten you –“
            “You don't threaten me? How sure are you about that?”

            He stares with disgust. He looks down at my sneakers and gym clothes.

            “Just forget it. You're harmless, Macrae.”

Well he certainly knows more than just my first name.

“Whatever, Cedric. I'm sorry I bumped into you.” I begin to walk back to gym, but he steps in front of me. I back off. 

“Okay, what would it take?” I ask. "What do you want from me?"

“What do I want from you?” he asks. He takes another step forward closing the distance between us. "If I were to decide right now, I'd want you dead."

“Excuse me?” 

He steps closer with his face holding a grimace.

“You. Dead.” Red bleeds around his pupils and I back off staring into his eyes. Then, nothing. His eyes are dark brown making me think I was hallucinating. He chuckles and I attempt to walk past again, but this time, he shoves me.

“Stop.”

I try once more to leave. He shoves me again with more force causing me to stumble. 

“I'm telling you to…”

He does it again.

“Cedric,” I say through clenched teeth. My tongue then rips across something sharp and blood splashes in my mouth. I touch my mouth with my fingertips confused. I feel fangs in my mouth and I jump back covering my mouth with my hand. Cedric stands silent and still, staring with a grin on his face. A painful crunch hits my head and a deafening ring fills my ears. I drop to my knees and clasp my hands to my ears. The pain intensifies.
What's going on with me!
I begin to shake and place my forehead onto the floor trying to fight the pain. Cedric stands above me. Pain leaves my throat.

“Oh well lookie here," he says with a laugh in his voice. "Don't be afraid. With time, you'll get used to it.”

"Cedric!" I groan through the pain. "Don't just stand there help me!"

"I am," he says. "I'm being forced to."

"What are you talking about?" I say through my pain and aching teeth.

I yell in agony again. 

"One step at a time, Macrae," he says with another laugh. "We're watching you. For now. How's the nightmares going? Dream of us yet?"

I clench one of my hands into a fist and punch the floor. The linoleum crumbles, but felt as soft as tissue paper.
What's wrong with me?
I think to myself. I place my hand on my chest to feel how fast my heart is beating, but I don't feel anything. Something's wrong. Something is completely wrong.

“Evan?” calls Mr. Wallace the gym teacher. “What are you doing out here? What's going on?”

I open my eyes and everything is quiet. The pain is gone and I can think straight. I bring a hand to my chest. My heart is running wild, but at least it is beating.

"Evan?" Mr. Wallace calls again.

I look up and a few students and teachers are watching from the doorways of classrooms. Mike comes out of the gym and stops just behind Mr. Wallace. Cedric is gone and my agony left with him. I run my tongue across my teeth. Nothing sharp. I look at the crack in the floor I left with my fist. No broken hand, bruise, nor pain. 

"You alright?" Mr. Wallace asks. Mike helps me up. "What happened to your nose?"

I feel around my nose and mouth and warmth touches my fingertips.

"I-- I fell, Mr. Wallace," I say. "I'm sorry."

He nods his head looking both confused and worried.

"Well, alright," he says. "Need to see a nurse?"

"No, no," I say. "I'm fine."

"I'll look after him for a bit, sir," Mike says to Mr. Wallace.

"Alright. Hurry on."

Everyone goes back into their classrooms as Mike helps me to the bathroom to clean my bloody nose. Every bully has a motive. What is Cedric's and what did he mean by,
you'll get used to it?
What was that about him being forced to help me and asking about my nightmares and asking of I dreamed of
us
yet? He knows something. I have questions and I feel that Cedric has answers. After what just happened to me in the hallways, I'm desperate to know what he knows and what's happening to me.

After telling Mike what happened, he too is confused and insists that I talk to Cedric and see what he wants, but Cedric did tell me what he wants.
Me. Dead.
Maybe an exaggeration, maybe the reality. Would I want to know? Cedric has always made me feel uneasy and uncomfortable. His words and actions should not surprise me.

My Science and Math classes that followed blew by. Painting class is the verdict. I'm usually anxious to go, but after a rough morning, I've been far too distracted to be excited. The best part about Painting class, I am able to see her. Essence LaRoux.

Each time I see her feels like the first. The butterflies. The lump in my throat. The sweat in my palms. The skips in my heart. It never gets old and always feels new. If only there was more of myself to give. Something to offer, but I have nothing and she is the kind of girl who deserves everything.

           My heart leaps into my throat. I gulp. I have been walking in autopilot and decided it would be a good idea to stand in the front of the classroom. Essence tends to have that effect on me quite often. My painting teacher, Ms. Brooks calls my name and I have a feeling she has been calling me for quite some time. I hope that those thoughts of Essence LaRoux were only thoughts and not a presented monologue.

            "Evan?" Ms. Brooks calls again. "Do you mind taking a seat, please?" 
            Before I'm able to answer, I notice the only seat left available in the classroom is next to Essence. She smiles and my heart jumps into my throat again. She should not have done that.
           "Evan?" Ms. Brooks calls again looking over the frame of her glasses.
           "Um. Yes, I'm sorry."

The classroom giggles are embarrassing as I take my walk of shame to the seat next to Essence. Ms. Brooks begins class and instructs that we will continue to work on our spring project. We grab our easels from different areas of the classroom and return to our work stations. I have been working on a portrait of the woman from my dreams which is different from the woman
of
my dreams who sits next to me. I have yet to see Essence's work, so I peek in the corner of my eyes and wish I hadn't. Curiosity truly does kill the cat. She isn't working on her in-class project. She's looking at me. 
Why is she looking at me
? I try to focus back onto my work and find myself scanning over the different colors of paint losing my train of thought.
Okay, um. I had a great Morning Star breakfast. Confusing mommy problems. Bike riding, bike riding. Pine trees and mint smells. Stupid Cedric.

"Evan?" She says.

I never heard my name sound so clear and theatrical. It was like music--a symphony. I refrain from looking in her direction.

            "Yes?" I answer and choke on the word.
            She scoots closer. My heel begins to tap on the bar of my stool. Her face leans close to my cheek and I follow her eyes to my easel.

            "Who is that?" she asks. She smells obsessive like a free-spirited lavender floral garden. Her aroma forces my eyes to close and follow the scent. I inhale, giving into temptation, but exhale with caution. I open my eyes and she stares into mine. I should reevaluate my sanity.
What am I doing?
I turn back to my easel trying to cover my new addiction that needs rehabilitation.

"It's -- just some woman," I finally answer. That long walk in her garden was exquisite.

"Just some woman," she repeats with a nod and soft smile. "Is that why she doesn't have a face?"

I refrain from bursting into laughter.

"Well, I seen her before. In my dreams actually. She doesn't have a face because it was hard to make out, but--"

I think about the short blonde haired woman in my dreams sitting at the table next to the man in the tuxedo.

"-- now I can finish it."

"Some dream, huh?"

"Yeah," I nod flexing the corner of my lips into a wrinkle. "Nightmare actually."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"You're interested in hearing?" I ask in disbelief.

"Only if you're interested in sharing," she smiles with her perfect rows of white teeth.

I can't move. Flowers bloom and her sweet scent illuminates the classroom. She brushes some of her red hair away from one of her eyes.

"Well," I begin regaining sanity. "I was on this cliff. Standing in front of these red doors. I went inside and the place looked like some mansion. Very rich with marble floors, art covered walls, a fountain, and gold railings. Then, there was this little girl I start chasing around. We get to this room and these people are at a table staring at me."

"Do you know these people?" she asks.

I shake my head.

"No," I say. "But the mansion, the people. They look familiar like -- I know I've seen them before. At least that's what it feels like."

"What happens next?" She adjusts herself in her chair listening.

"I find myself sitting at the table with them and they're celebrating -- something. The girl starts to freak about me leaving her and the next thing I know I'm pulled across the floor and sucked into darkness. I don't understand it, but it felt so real."