Midnight Runes (The Bestowed Ones) (5 page)

I found my phone on its third ring. It was Trevor.

“Hey,” I said.

“Hey, Brynn. I hope you’re free.”

“Yeah, just doing homework. What’s up?” I asked hesitantly.

“I want to see you, and I thought we could catch up over dinner. Can I pick you up in about an hour?”

“Sure,” I said, trying to play it cool.

“Great! I was hoping you’d say that. See you soon.”

I stared at my books and notes. My thoughts were scattered everywhere but completing assignments.

I wondered where we would go. Probably a casual place since he didn’t mention a dress code. I still had the skinny jeans and pink sweater on that I wore to school. Depending on what he wore, I could wear flats or boots to dress it up a bit.

When the knock came, I jumped up to let him in. My hand hesitated on the door.
Almost
like it used to be.

I opened the door and took in that he really was in front of me. He had a casual army green button-up on with the top buttons open, exposing the bright white shirt underneath. He had on his favorite dark khaki cargo pants.

I hugged him, slipped my flowered print flats on, and we left. He picked a new restaurant in the next city. I didn’t ask why. I didn’t care. I was with him, and we were spending time together.

The hostess sat us and took our drink order. I scanned the menu quickly, picked something out, and put the menu back in its holder. I stared at him while he decided his order. There was so much the same, but it was so different. He didn’t seem like himself; he was hesitant, reserved. He glanced up, and I flashed a smile.

“So what’s the latest and greatest?” I asked.

“Oh, you know. A little of this, a little of that.”

“How are your classes?”

“Okay. It’s much less time spent in class than high school, but there’s work to do outside of class that takes up time. Projects, tests, etc.”

“I’m really glad you called. It’s nice to see you.”

The waitress arrived with a full drink tray. She placed my ice water with lemon in front of me, then leaned over to place Trevor’s iced tea in front of him, but her whole tray tipped toward him. She lifted it up to try to prevent spilling the entire tray on him, but all she managed to do was dump the liquid on his chest rather than in his lap.

I stared in disbelief at Trevor’s drenched shirt. All I could think was that our impromptu date was over. Selfish, maybe. Then I noticed the mark coming though his wet undershirt. I couldn’t gauge if it was a shadow or if my eyes were playing tricks on me. It looked to be a pattern, but it wasn’t like Trevor to buy—let alone wear—clothes with bold, cryptic symbols on them.

The waitress apologized over and over and rushed away to grab towels to mop up the mess. All I could focus on was his dark stain.

“What kind of tee do you have on underneath your shirt?” I asked.

“A plain white one, as always,” he said nonchalantly, but he looked to where my gaze landed, and immediately pulled his shirt away from his skin. The symbol definitely wasn’t a shadow; it was on his skin. I saw part of it as he pulled his shirt away. His eyes flashed to mine.

“Did you get a tattoo?” I accused.

He shifted slightly. “Sort of,” he said defensively.

“It’s not permanent?”

“In a matter of speaking,” he replied impatiently. “I’m not going to sit here in wet clothes. Either we leave now—”

“But we just got here and I never see you!”

“Or I can put on the random clothes I have in my car and we can stay. Whichever you choose, we’re not going to talk any more about my non-tattoo.”

I felt this was non-negotiable, but I wasn’t about to give up time with him over this little incident. “Stay.”

I played with the straw wrapper while I waited for him to return. Oh yes, a lot had changed. Was it a sticker tattoo? Like the kind little kids wear? Maybe he’d lost a bet with his new friends. Maybe that’s why he was so mortified.

He returned wearing a wrinkled tee, but I didn’t care. “So,” he started as he sat down, “any new faces in the crowd?”

“You mean new friends?”

“Sure, or just people around you.”

“No, no one new.”

“That’s good. Are you starting up the homecoming plans? Decorating the halls, building the float, and all that?”

“This week we have the first meeting to decide on all that. Does college do anything like high school?”

“Don’t think so.”

We lapsed into light, frivolous conversation, and dinner passed too quickly.

We returned to his car and buckled our seat belts. He was trapped in the car with me the whole ride home. Since I had honored his request not to push the issue in the restaurant, I figured I could at least try now.

“Can I see your tattoo?” I asked.

He gave me a sideways glance and laughed.

“Is that a yes?” I asked hopefully.

“It’s a no.”

“Then why did you laugh?”

“Because I know how your mind works. You just postponed questioning me until we were confined to the car.”

“Well, it’s not like you can go anywhere.”

“I could pull over and drop you off.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“No, but I could.”

“Stop distracting me. Why did you get one?”

“Because I wanted one.”

“Since when, Trevor?”

“Since recently, Brynn.”

“What it is of?”

“What does it matter?”

“It looked…different.”

“It is different. And that’s the last thing I’ll say about it.”

I crossed my arms and looked out the window. The list of things he wouldn’t tell me grew by another line item.

I was silent the rest of the way home.

I
stopped in the office before school to register my dad’s old Mustang on my parking pass…now that it was running again. I could use Dad’s car as a backup if my car broke down. I didn’t want another parking violation from the school’s security office. It was a time-consuming paperwork process, not to mention that I hated enduring disapproving looks from the office staff.

After I turned in the form, I headed to my locker to switch out my books, but took a shortcut through the counseling offices. I had a moment to stop in Mr. Newland’s office. He was my absolute favorite counselor. He was involved with student organizations, genuinely cared for students, and was a great encourager.

The door was open, and I peeked in to see if he was there. He was. His desk faced the doorway, and he was sitting behind it. I took a few steps in and froze. A student sat in front of him. Just before I turned to walk away, Mr. Newland looked up and beckoned me in the room. The student turned around. Right away, I felt my cheeks turn red. I felt foolish for barging in.

“Oh, I just stopped in to say hi on the way to my locker. I don’t need anything and I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The words flew out of my mouth in a rush. I was turning to bolt before the last sentence was fully formed.

“Brynn, come on in! This is perfect timing, actually.”

My shoulders slumped in defeat. I hesitantly turned. My eyes darted past the student to Mr. Newland.

“Yes, this will be much better,” he confirmed. “Landon is a new student and it’s his first day.”

Now it made sense why he wouldn’t mind an interruption. Since Mr. Newland had already said the new student’s name, it felt courteous to introduce myself. I put on a welcoming smile and turned to Landon.

Landon stood up and extended his hand. “Hi, Brynn. Landon Burke. Nice to see you.” The corners of his mouth twitched. He worked hard to not let his amusement show.

A wave of recognition hit. What he didn’t say out loud was “again.” My friendly smile faltered. I couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that I knew who he was. Well, not really
who
he was, but I’d seen him before. I forced my hand up from my side to meet his. I was a little thrown off by his formality, and if I was being honest, a little thrown off by more than that. “Hi,” I managed and dropped my hand.

You know that brief period of time after you see or hear something shocking when you don’t have any reaction? Those fleeting moments completely void of emotion? When you can’t form thoughts, let alone speak or process what had just happened? I had one of those.

“Brynn, would you show Landon the way to his locker and his first hour?” I shallowly nodded. I had just enough brain function to realize I couldn’t be rude in front of Mr. Newland. “Great. It would be more inconspicuous that way. You know, being a new student and all.”

“Right,” I said slowly. I regained composure, and with that, my brain turned back on. I narrowed my eyes at Landon.

The last thing I’d want is for him to be inconvenienced,
I thought. Then I had to sigh. I certainly wouldn’t want to draw extra attention to myself at a new school. “Sure, no problem,” I said, but I didn’t feel too bad for him since he obviously knew people in the area.

“Great! He already has a layout of the school and a copy of his schedule. I gathered all the books for his classes already.”

My eyes flicked over to the stack of books on the corner of Mr. Newland’s desk. Landon was a senior, too. Mr. Newland opened a drawer and retrieved a small notepad. “I’ll write passes for both of you just in case you don’t make it in time for the final bell.”

I had every intention of getting to class before it started. How awful to arrive late with the new kid. We stood side by side in silence as we waited for him to fill out our passes. I couldn’t figure out why Landon was suddenly here now, when school had started weeks ago. Clearly, he was already in the area. I had seen him over the summer as a drop-in guest at Trevor’s. He was the one who had lingered after Trevor left. Landon witnessed my humiliation after Trevor denied knowing me.

Mr. Newland handed the passes over, thanking me again, and I couldn’t even manage a coherent reply. The more time I had to think about what was happening, the more emotions bubbled up.

Of all the students in this school…of all the days to stop in the office…this is what I get for being me.

I waited for Landon to pick up his books before leaving. I didn’t offer to help. He followed me out of the counseling area. We zigzagged through the maze to get out of the main office area—students and teachers jokingly referred to it as the Labyrinth. The passageway was too narrow to walk side by side, and I felt self-conscious walking in front of him. We walked in silence. Carrying on a conversation was nearly impossible—not that I wanted to converse with him at all. And yet I did…because I had a lot to say.

All the walking provided an opportunity to recover from the shock. I didn’t like being around people whose intentions I didn’t understand. I should have made him go out first so I could order him around, and he would know whose territory he was in. After all, I knew this school so well I could walk it blindfolded. Not that I’d want to.

Part of me wished his books were heavier. He didn’t seem the slightest bit inconvenienced. Or maybe my secret wish would come true and he’d drop them all and make a fool of himself. I smiled wickedly at the thought of standing by and waiting while he scrambled to collect them all.

When the hallway opened up as we reached the next office, I plucked the schedule from the top of his book pile to look it over and determine where his locker was. Same area as mine.

“Your locker’s over here.” I turned left and started walking. I continued to study the paper to find out his schedule and how many classes we had together. I was too distracted for anything to register, even though I looked at the list again and again.

“Done committing my schedule to memory? Mr. Newland wrote the combination to my locker on that. I hope you’re not memorizing it,” he joked nonchalantly.

I didn’t notice it until he had to bring attention to it, but he mistook my silence as guilt.

“Commit the numbers to memory. At least you can get it open if I can’t.”

I rolled my eyes. “Even if I knew the combination, I wouldn’t sneak into your locker.” I had a hard enough time getting my own locker open at times.

“Interesting. Too timid…or worried I’d catch you?” he taunted.

“None of the above. I have no reason to go through your things.”

“Snooping can be fun.”

“You say it like you’re experienced.”

He pretended to think about it. “I don’t do it
all
the time.”

“Anyway, I’m not much of a snooper,” I said. “I’d rather find out the old-fashioned way.”

“That can be a long, drawn-out route to take.”

“Sometimes that’s the only way to really find out what someone’s like.”

“I disagree.”

“Snooping can only give you snapshots of a person,” I argued, wondering why I continued this conversation. “There’s no way to tell what they really think unless you talk to them. Well, that is, only if they’re honest about what they think or feel.”

“Exactly. And how often are people really honest? Not only with other people, but also themselves?” I knew he was trying to make a point, but I refused to acknowledge it. “I think you know what I’m referring to.” I shot him a look. “Case closed,” he said.

I shrugged, almost saying that I’d like to think people were honest relatively often, but then I remembered that not even Trevor was honest with me. I decided on a different approach. “Well, if you spy on someone, you may only see the worst parts of them.”

“No, Brynn, you see all of them. You see them for who they really are. Not what they pretend to be for the world.”

I wanted to argue with him—show him just how honest and direct I could be, but I didn’t want to have a verbal confrontation in the busy hallway. I fleetingly wondered what that said about me. As it was, I debated leaving him on his own to find his way. The fact that we had the same first hour and I would see him in a few minutes diminished the thought. Well, that,
and
out of respect for Mr. Newland.
And
it was pretty childish. Tempting. But childish.

We arrived at our row of lockers, and I pulled out two of my books and binders from my book bag to trade for the ones I needed for my morning classes. I snuck a glance at Landon. He was a few lockers down, staring at his schedule and grabbing the necessary books. I shouldn’t have noticed how good he looked in his distressed, dark jeans, polished shoes, and charcoal grey sweater.