Static (7 page)

Mom shuffled to the door and shut off the light.
"Night."

"Night, Mom."

She went through and shut the door behind her. But I
knew I wouldn't go back to sleep. My mind was racing and my heart
pounding. There was no way in hell I could close my eyes and go
back to dreamland. Not when I was fully lucid and aware, acting in
my own waking nightmare.

Chapter 8

I was bone tired as I made my way down the sidewalk
toward the front steps of Boise High. True to form, I didn't go
back to sleep after having dropped from the ceiling. I lay awake
considering all of my options.

The one conclusion I came up with, was that all of
this, all of what I was going through, had something, maybe
everything, to do with Malice's after party.

I'd been drugged there. Left as trash in a downtown
dumpster, then after rescuing myself I went home and died. After
coming back to life, my eyes had gone inky black, I heard words in
static, and I seemed to have the ability of sticking to ceilings.
Oh, and my peeping tom, Trevor, I'd seen at the after party.

Coincidences maybe, but not likely.

As I neared the white stone steps I saw Chloe and
Jamie leaning against one of the metal hand rails waiting for me.
It was our senior year and we vowed to conquer it together even
agreeing to taking the same electives. None of them we'd ever use
again in our lives.

We just wanted to make it through a little smarter,
none the worse for wear, and capable of getting jobs. Anything else
would be a miracle. I had no delusions of being a doctor, lawyer,
or even a dot com entrepreneur. I just wanted a decent job where I
could wear what I wanted and be able to listen to music as I
labored. Ambition was completely lost on me.

Chloe waved as I approached. "Hey, chica, feeling
better?"

"Yeah, just tired." I readjusted my book bag on my
shoulder trying hard not to show the dark circles around my eyes.
Even copious amounts of makeup couldn't hide them this time.

"Ready for torture and slave labor and degradation?"
Jamie asked, running a hand through his mop of platinum blond hair,
and then giving me his arm.

I nodded and wrapped my hand around his offered arm.
"You bet. High school rocks."

As we mounted the stairs, several of our fellow
students turned and looked at us. Although we stood out from a
crowd, I had thought that after the past two years everyone
would've been used to our wicked ways. There weren't any snickers
or jabs in the ribs and pointing rudely. The looks were more
curious than mocking. And nine times of ten they were from
guys.

Subconscious I patted at my hair, making sure no
stray strands were sticking up at their leisure. Inconspicuously, I
glanced down at my jeans to make sure my fly was zipped and that no
important body part was sticking out of any rip or hole. The laces
on my Doc's were done up, so it wasn't that. My happy-skulls hoodie
was zipped up and I wasn't wearing a shirt where any cleavage
peeked out inappropriately.

So, what was everyone staring at?

When we neared the doors, both Jamie and Chloe were
noticing the attention, and were glancing around also checking to
see if they had anything vulgar sticking out of any piece of
clothing.

"What's everyone looking at?" Chloe whispered to
me.

I shrugged, not having the faintest idea.

"Hey, Salem."

I nearly tripped on my own boot as Josh Kirby, the
most popular guy in school, smiled at me. He reached out to steady
me. His hand lingered on my arm a little longer than was necessary.
But he smelled nice, so I didn't mind one bit.

"Ah, hi?" I said, confused as hell why he would be
talking to me. In all the years we'd been going to the same school,
he'd never talked to me. Not once. Not even an "excuse me" after
bumping into me in the hall.

"How was your summer?"

"Fine?" Although I sounded like a dork, I couldn't
stop the questioning in my voice. I was in total shock and really
couldn't be held responsible for what I said and did.

Both Jamie and Chloe were in equal states of shock,
so they just stood there and watched the exchange with gaping
mouths and wide eyes.

Josh was about to say something else, when the SS,
Silicone Set, named so for their bouncy boobs which we all thought
were fake, consisting of Heather, Megan and Lauren, stepped in
between us. Heather was Josh's ex-girlfriend and a complete replica
of Britney Spears, but without any talent.

She glared at me, daggers of ice flying from her baby
blues. "Is it be nice to a freak day or something? Did I miss the
text message?"

Megan and Lauren laughed with her, but surprisingly
Josh didn't, nor did his best friend, Pete. Maybe I was still
dreaming. I ran a hand over my arm and pinched my skin hard. Nope,
I was wide awake because that hurt like a bugger.

"Shut up, Heather," Josh said.

The little crowd that had gathered around us gasped
in surprise. If my lower jaw hadn't been attached, it would've fell
to the stone step and shattered into a million pieces.

"Excuse me?" Heather stammered.

"You heard me." Josh swung his book bag over his
shoulder and, with Pete joining him at his side, moved toward the
front door. He smiled at me again, this time with a salacious wink.
"I'll see you later, Salem."

He disappeared into the school leaving a whirling
confusion in his wake. The murmuring crowd began to break up but
not without glancing my way again once or twice as they made their
way into the school.

Heather and her crew were the last to leave. "This
isn't over, freak," she spat at me.

"Hey, I'm just as confused as you are. Take it out on
Josh, not me."

"Whatever." After swinging her sunny blond hair over
her shoulder, she straightened her shoulders and, her crew by her
sides, strutted through the school doors.

That left me, Chloe and Jamie standing outside,
immobile with shock.

"What just happened?" Chloe asked.

"I have no idea," I answered.

"That was really weird." Jamie shook his head. "Do
you think he's punking you?"

"Maybe." I shrugged again. But I wasn't so sure. When
Josh had touched me, I felt strange, different. His smell was
strong in my nostrils. He smelled like candy. Tasty and sweet. It
was odd to think of him like that, as something edible. But the
sensation was there. My stomach even clenched a little at the
thought of licking the side of his face.

Whatever was going on, I sensed it had something to
do with all the other changes in me. But at least this one was
pleasant. It didn't bother me one bit if Josh Kirby was attracted
to me. I liked it. A lot. It gave me a feeling of power I'd never
experienced before. Power to persuade. Power to seduce.

Feeling a whole lot better and not in the least
tired, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder and went into the school,
happy as a pig in crap to be going in. Chloe and Jamie trailed
after me.

Maybe my senior year of high school wasn't going to
suck. Maybe it was going to be a life changing event. One where I'd
never be the same again.

***

After a morning of getting class schedules, coveting
lockers, and wandering the campus looking for classrooms, Chloe,
Jamie and I were sitting in
Lava Java
, a coffee shop not far
from the school, drinking café mochas with whipped cream and tiny
chocolate bits on top. It was our usual lunch time snack.

Our main topic of conversation—why Josh Kirby was
flirting with me.

I passed him twice in the hallway and both times he
smiled. Not a random obligated smile, but a warm inviting sexy grin
that did interesting things to parts of my lower anatomy. Since I'd
never really thought much about Josh in the past, my reaction to
him was unexpected. He'd always been popular as the clichéd captain
of the football team, an A student and all around golden child. He
even looked golden with his perfectly messy tawny-streaked hair,
and gold flecked green eyes. He had perfect white teeth, that had
to be bleached I'm sure at least twice a year, high sharp
cheekbones and a strong jaw. He was as sickening good-looking as a
top New York model, and it wouldn't surprise me in the least if
Josh could strut down a runway with the rest of them.

He was so far off my radar that I never really
thought about him. Especially not as potential boyfriend material.
I preferred my guys to be tall, dark, and emotionally disturbed.
They also had to wear too much black and like pain—I mean it did
hurt like a son-of-a-bitch to get a tattoo and to get your tongue
pierced. I know. I'd been through both. Anyone who says different
is lying through their teeth.

So, I suppose it was hypocritical of me to all of
sudden find him attractive. But I couldn't deny that I did. I could
deny it to my friends, which I fully intended to, but I couldn't
lie to myself.

"I just don't get it." Jamie said as he chewed on his
straw. "It's not that you're not, you know, cute Salem, but I
really don't think you're his type at all."

"Thank you Jamie, for your insight." I sipped my
drink.

"Hey, I'm just saying."

Chloe slid the straw out of her drink and used a
spoon to scoop out the whipped cream. "Well, it doesn't matter
anyway, why Josh is interested, because it's not like Salem's
interested back." She eyed me curiously when I didn't say anything
right away. I knew she was expecting me to agree with her.
"Right?"

I nodded vigorously, although my heart wasn't into
the agreement. I
was
sort of interested. "Right. I'm not
interested at all. He's a jerk."

I didn't think she was convinced of my vehemence
because she asked, "If he asked you out, you'd say no, wouldn't
you?"

"Of course." I avoided her gaze as I said the words.
Instead, I concentrated on picking up a piece of chocolate with the
tip of my straw.

She nudged me in the arm, and my chocolate flake
dropped onto the table. "Salem. I can't believe you're considering
going out with him."

"Holy crap, Chloe, he hasn't even asked me out." I
dabbed at the chocolate on the table with my napkin. "Why are we
even discussing this?"

"Because we basically have nothing else interesting
to talk about," Jamie said.

"That new band
Supernatural
is coming to
town," Chloe offered, as she licked whipped cream off her chin. "We
should go."

Jamie smirked. "I hate those guys."

"What? You just downloaded their latest CD," she
said.

"Yeah, that's why I hate them. It sucked donkey
balls."

Chuckling, I stood. "I'm going to hit the head."

I made my way over to the ladies' room in the far
corner of the shop. Both stalls were empty when I entered and I
quickly used one, humming a little tune as I did. But when I came
out the tune stuck in my throat and I nearly choked.

Trevor sat on the counter near the sink, a café mocha
in his hand. He sipped it, his gaze never leaving my face.

I gaped, my mouth opening and closing like a guppy.
"What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Trying to help you."

I went to the sink, turned on the water and washed my
hands. As I dried them with the paper towel, I scowled at him. "How
did you get in here anyway? Is the men's room all full or
something?" I tossed the wet towel in the garbage.

He motioned toward the door. "I came in through the
door, genius. I placed an out of order sign on it and locked it so
we aren't disturbed."

"You can't just pop in here uninvited and expect me
to be all grateful and happy about it."

"I don't, but I do expect you to listen at
least."

"Why should I?"

"Because I'm going to tell you the whole truth but
only if you promise not to freak out."

"Dude, I'm already freaking out. How much worse could
it get?"

"Oh, it's going to get a lot worse, trust me."

"Well, that's the thing, I don't. I don't have any
idea who you are."

"I'm the band's roadie. I've been with them for three
years now."

My heart sped up and my palms went all sweaty. Panic
was starting to settle inside. I didn't think I wanted to hear what
Trevor had to say. He was going to tell me what I feared had
happened that night. He was going to confirm that I'd been
raped.

"You can tell Thane that I don't remember what
happened that night. I'm not going to go to the cops or
anything."

"The cops couldn't help you anyway."

The way he said it, the menace in his voice, made the
little hairs on my arms stir. A lump formed in my throat. I looked
around the bathroom searching for anything I could use as a weapon
if I had to. A warning bell sounded in my head. He was here to
strike fear into my heart. And it was working real well. My heart
was all but dripping with it.

He must've sensed my rising alarm, the instinct to
fight or flee, because he set the drink down and slid off the
counter to stand next to me. Was he going to grab me?

In a panic, I picked up the liquid soap dispenser on
the counter and threw it at him, hard. It hit him smack right
between his eyes. Who knew I could aim so well?

"Damn it!" He stumbled backward and rubbed at his
forehead. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Defending myself." I took a step back, preparing to
kick him right between the legs. "Don't come any closer. I will
kick your junk into your throat."

He stopped moving closer, but continued to rub at his
head with his fingers, eyeing me. He smirked. "Good shot. A little
advice though, don't tell your attacker what you plan on doing to
him. It ruins the surprise."

"I'll remember that, thanks," I said, my body quaking
with adrenaline. As if high, my head swam, my muscles flexed all on
their own. I hated to admit it, but I sort of liked the sensation.
Made me feel powerful. Like I could kick someone's ass, no
problem.