Secret Worlds (390 page)

“Did she touch you?”

“Why would she touch me?” I tuck my legs under me and hug my knees.

Alek appraises me. “I won’t touch you.”

“What?”

“Though you look like you could do with a hug.”

I splutter at him. “
What?
”

“Did you see Finn today?”

His subject changes are confusing my tired brain. “Why?”

“Because I think you should keep away from him.”

“Thanks for your concern again, big brother, but Finn has nothing to do with my health.”

“Don’t call me that.” I’m curled into a ball in the corner and his long leg is close to mine, so close we’re almost touching. I have an image of myself pressed against his leather jacket, an image quickly replaced with me pressed against the naked chest I saw in the kitchen a few nights ago.
What the hell is this?
He must have too much testosterone, which is why he exudes sex and behaves like he owns the place and everyone in it.

“You okay? Now your breathing’s funny.” Amusement lights his eyes and I realise he’s sitting close deliberately.

I rest my head on my lap, turning my cheek so he can’t see the colour I’ve turned. “I’m tired.”

Alek sits back and places his hands on his knees before standing. He looks back round at me. “Well, if you’re okay then I’m going to work. Sweet dreams, Casper.”

I don’t reply as I watch him leave the house. I’m exhausted; so tired I can’t move, and all I want to do is sleep. My limbs are weak and my muscles ache; I pray I’m not getting the flu. Shivering, I pull my coat around me and doze off.

***

“How many?” hisses a voice I recognise as Alek’s.

I jerk awake and lie still, listening. My neck is stiff from lying on the sofa and I squint at the LED display on the DVD player. 1:14 am.

Lizzie says something to him, but I can’t hear. They’re in the kitchen again and I’m not sure I want to hear the conversation.

“She doesn’t know; what if they attack her?” continues Alek.

Again, a response I can’t hear. I pull myself to my feet and steady myself on the sofa arm. I swear I have the flu; my limbs ache now. Edging closer, I peek around the corner into the short hallway to the kitchen. I can’t see the doorway because the kitchen is opposite the bottom of the stairs, but I can hear them more clearly.

“She’s not well; I think Finn got to her.”

“I doubt he’s touched her; he wouldn’t want to risk her knowing yet. He obviously has other plans while he’s here, apart from her.”

“Then what? Why is she unwell?”

“Maybe she needs more energy, but she shouldn’t yet.”

I rest my head on the wall, running my scalp along the wood chip. What the hell are they talking about? This can’t be about me.

“Some of the others know she’s living here. It’s dangerous.”

Lizzie makes a derisive noise. “Well, you can protect her then.”

“I don’t think she’s the ‘damsel in distress’ sort.”

“Well, seduce her then; it’s obvious you want to.”

I don’t hear Alek’s response, his voice is too low. The aching in my limbs worsens from standing, so I pull myself from the wall back toward the sofa. As I turn around, I find myself inches away from the red-haired girl’s face and stifle a scream.

“Fuck! What are you doing?” I hiss.

The girl steps back and looks at me again. “I thought I imagined you.”

Her voice is hardly audible, and her gaze darts from me to the kitchen behind.

“Yeah, I get the same feeling about you.”

She smiles. “Did Alek bring you, too?”

“Bring me?”

“Here. To stay.”

“I’m renting a room.”

“Alek brought me.”

“Yeah?” My tired legs are waking up as anxiety spikes adrenaline into my muscles. Something is wrong. I carefully back toward the hallway.

The girl steps toward me. “What happened to you?”

“Me? Nothing?”

She tips her head and reveals a large scar running from her neck to her shoulder. “I had an accident.”

The fog rolls into my mind again, a memory of lying in the road blinding me.
No. I’m dreaming.
I dig my nails into my palms and look down. The pain registers; I’m not dreaming. I glance back at the red-haired girl, but she’s gone. Shaking my head, I stumble backwards, trip over my own feet and land on the floor with a thud.

A chair scrapes and light floods into the hallway from the kitchen. I squint up at Alek, Lizzie standing just behind him.

“What happened?” he asks.

“The girl…”

Before I can finish the words, Alek comes over to me and leans over. “Don’t talk about her.”

“Help her up, Alek.” Lizzie’s voice is harder.

“No.”

I struggle into a sitting position. Lizzie remains in the doorway, watching us curiously. “I don’t need help,” I say.

“Did the girl touch you?” he asks quietly.

“No. Why?”
What is his issue with people touching me?

“Nothing.”

“What’s going on?”

Alek moves his mouth close to my ear. “Don’t say anything else.”

The side of my face tingles as his breath touches my skin, as if his lips had brushed my cheek.

He pushes himself to his feet and steps between Lizzie and me. “Maybe you should go to bed.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You can’t be comfortable sitting on the floor all night. Come on, Casper, up you get.”

His sudden change in demeanour surprises me until he moves his eyes to indicate Lizzie behind us. Understanding, I climb to my feet. The ground lurches, and I’m glad I have the wall to steady myself on. Evidently, Alek doesn’t want to touch me because he doesn’t help.

Dragging one heavy foot in front of another, I climb the stairs, listening for any further conversation between Lizzie and Alek.

“Sweet dreams, Casper!” calls Alek, and I grit my teeth. That is getting very old, very quickly.

As I lie in bed, turning thoughts over in my head, I’m unable to put any puzzle pieces together in my cotton-wool brain.

***

Alek appears in the doorway bare-chested in his low-slung trackies. A cup of chamomile tea steams in front of me, and I shiver in my flannel PJs, wondering how he can stand to walk around semi-naked in the cold of the night. I come down to the kitchen most nights because of the nightmares and Alek often appears, too. The Alek who sits with me at these times is different, one who’s less guarded and occasionally polite. The meetings are becoming more regular, and I toy with the idea he’s doing this deliberately.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asks.

“Weird dreams.”

Alek walks in and takes a beer from the fridge. “Yeah? Good or bad?”

What do I say to him?
I’m currently unsure if I’m still dreaming or how much of the night was a dream. I thought the fog dreams from the night I almost died were bad enough, but this is weirder still.

“Did I dream tonight?” I ask him.

“You just told me you did.”

“No, did I dream
tonight
?” Alek sits opposite me and cracks open his beer. I incline my head to his bottle. “It’s four am.”

“So? And which part of tonight do you think you dreamt?”

My eyes sting with the need for sleep and my body aches. “I don’t know. All of it. Red-haired girls, conversations in kitchens, collapsing…And weird stuff at the hospital. Nearly passing out.”

The bottle stops short at Alek’s mouth; instead of drinking, he places it on the table. “Passing out?”

I shake a dismissive hand. “Yeah. I do sometimes.”

“Was Finn with you?”

“What difference does that make?”

“Did he touch you?”

“Whoa, there you go again…why do you keep asking me the same question? I don’t think I’m so irresistible every person I come across feels the need to touch me?”

He doesn’t reply and drinks from his bottle instead. The light from the street reflects in his eyes as he watches me.

“Who’s the girl with red hair?” I blurt.

“Just a visitor. Clarissa.”

“Why didn’t you want me to mention her earlier?”

“Lizzie is a bit odd about who I bring here.”

I smirk at the irony. “Really? Must be a thing about people who live here not wanting the others to have guests.”

He frowns. “Clarissa’s different.”

My stomach sinks. “So, she’s your girlfriend?”

Alek’s laugh has a harshness that reminds me of his reaction to Finn. “No.”

I rub my forehead; I’m too tired for this. Leaning over my cup, I inhale the fragrance of the chamomile, hoping it will soothe me. I look over my mug at Alek.

“Tell me what’s happening.”

“Happening?” He swigs his beer, feigning nonchalance.

Fine.
“I’m thinking about leaving.”

For the second time, I manage to arrest him mid-drink. “Leaving?”

“Are you just going to repeat everything I say?”

He smirks. “When are you going?”

This isn’t the reaction I expected. The conversation I heard didn’t suggest I could leave without a struggle. “Don’t know.”

“More importantly, where are you going?”

Good question. “I’ll find somewhere.” I have a thousand and one questions I want to ask this guy. With his strange mix of arrogance and caring, I’m still not sure if he is an ally or an enemy. Instead, I sip my tea and fix my look on a spot behind him.

“When you’re not so tired, we should talk,” he offers.

“Talk? To me? Why, thank you!” I turn on the saccharin sarcasm.

Alek slumps back in his chair. “Or not. Your choice.”

“I’m tired, Alek. I’m not in the mood for games.” I stand and edge toward the door. In response, he sits forward again.

“There are things I need to talk to you about,” he says. “Important things.”

I pause in the doorway. “You barely say anything to me, annoy me with stupid nicknames, and then say you have important things to tell me. And I should believe you, why?”

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, I just haven’t figured out how.”

“Yes, I noticed your conversational skills are lacking.”

Alek grins and shakes his head a little. “You’re amusing. Aren’t you curious about what I have to say?”

“Didn’t you hear me say I’m leaving? I’m leaving because of how this place makes me feel. ‘Curious’ is not the word I’d use.”

“You can’t leave,” he says softly.

An image of myself locked in my room springs to mind, the stupid Bo Peeps and fairies from my wallpaper closing in on me. I’m close to running upstairs, packing, and leaving tonight. “Are you threatening me?”

Alek tips his head,. “No, but I’m trying not to touch you.”

I lick my dry lips as he stands and I back toward the doorway.
Why does a huge part of me want to touch him?
Alek doesn’t get close enough for me to feel threatened, but I can’t move. “What’s going on?”

“So much. Too much. It’s late. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“What did Lizzie mean about you protecting me?”

Alek’s eyes widen. “What?” Now he can’t pretend their conversation didn’t happen.

“Right before the bit where she suggested you seduce me?”

Stepping backward, Alek returns to his chair. He sits and resumes nursing his beer, switching off.

“Sweet dreams, Casper.”

His sudden shift in mood is too much to comprehend or challenge. The more interaction I have with Alek, the more I worry his edginess points to deeper issues. Quietly, I leave the kitchen and hope the effect he just had on me doesn’t stop me sleeping.

I wake up to an unpleaseantly cold house, as usual and getting out of bed isn’t appealing because of the temperature outside of the bedclothes. My shift isn’t until later today, so I snuggle back under my blankets to lie in for a while. Hunger has other ideas.

As I sit and eat cereal, I notice Alek’s empty beer bottle and consider our last non-conversation. The discomfort I feel around this house grows every day, so I decide today’s job will be searching for somewhere else to live. Finding this place took a long time, so I know finding somewhere new won’t be an easy task; however, my unease is growing into fear for my safety.

Wrapped up in a thick coat and scarf around my face, I step outside into the bright autumn day. Walking out of the house lifts my spirits; a sense of relief when leaving the place you live isn’t good and this reinforces my decision to leave.

As I head to the bus stop, I fish around in my pocket for loose change and pull out a card. The printed lettering reminds me about the doctor’s appointment I made the day I fainted. I agreed to go back—should I go or not? Since the accident, I’ve had enough of the medical profession to last a lifetime, but they could have answers to help stop the dizziness and fog.

***

The doctor’s room is brightly lit with the usual set of medical books and weird plastic models, which can be pulled apart to show the inner workings of the ear or where babies come from. This doctor has the modern mix of the friendly and concerned demeanour medical professionals have these days. She taps a button on her keyboard and spends a couple of minutes reading over my notes.

“So, you’ve had some dizzy spells again.”

“A couple. I fainted once.”

“Any headaches?”

“No.”

“How are you coping with the job?”

“Nothing’s bothering me if that’s what you mean.”
Apart from where I live
.

She turns back to her screen, brown eyes moving rapidly to take in everything in my notes. “How long have you been out of hospital now?”

“About three months.”

“And the dizziness just started again?”

“Yeah, apparently, I shouldn’t have stopped the meds so quickly. But I’m taking them now and it’s still happening.”

The doctor nods, comes over, and takes my pulse and blood pressure. Her perfume reminds me of a friend from school, which in turn makes Jamie appear in my mind. She steps back and winds her stethoscope around her neck.

“Everything is normal there.”

“Good.”

The doctor resumes her seat. “You had a pretty bad accident. Things will take a while to get back to normal.”

I chew inside my cheek, in case I say something wrong. Talk about stating the bloody obvious. “I know. But do you think the dizziness will go soon? It’s annoying.”