The Locket (7 page)

His brows scrunched alerting me he was upset, like he was equally disappointed. I considered telling him I changed my mind, but chose not to. He smiled gently, his eyes bright blue.

“Okay Blake, another day then. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said looking at me as though he wanted me to reassure him.

“I’ll be there.”
Nothing is going to keep me from seeing you again.
I hoped I did not say the last half out loud. Brent gave a shy wave and walked away.

Exiting the overflow parking lot, I saw Brent in the lot across the street tossing his backpack into the driver’s side of a black truck. It was unexpected, considering he had ran through the woods to school. Pulling up next to him, I rolled down my window.

“Hey, I thought you liked to hike through the woods to school, nature boy,” I teased, hoping he would be okay with it. I wasn’t sure if he was upset with me for not helping him with chemistry today.

Turning to face me, he laughed.

“Believe it or not, I actually don’t prefer that route to school, Blake. My truck was in the shop. My dad dropped if off after lunch for me,” he explained.

“Well, it’s nice to know I won’t have to worry about you attacking me again,” I laughed, continuing to tease him since he didn’t seem to be upset with me.

“Yes, Blake, you should be safe from now on,” he smiled.

“Oh, I’m so relieved.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, climbing into the truck.

Can’t wait!

On the drive home I found myself talking about Brent. While sitting at a stop light, I looked over to a group of teenagers, and finally realized I was literally talking out loud. They were pointing and laughing at me. Mortified, I searched for my phone so I could pretend I was speaking with an actual person. Failing to find it before the light changed, I sighed with humiliation.

Having been completely wrapped up in thinking about Brent during the rest of my drive, I didn’t remember most of it. Again, I found myself hoping my parents weren’t looking down, watching me. Somehow I didn’t think driving while not looking at the road fell into the safe category.

Entering the house, I called for Maggie, but she didn’t answer. Assuming she had gone for a walk, I used the time to find something to cook. Maggie had been taking care of me all summer and I planned to return the favor by making a nice dinner. Subconsciously, I was probably using the impromptu meal as a distraction. I found chicken in the freezer and enough fixings for a decent salad in the refrigerator. Going about the task at hand, I put all thoughts of Brent aside. He was renting way too much space in my head at the moment.

Dinner was nearly ready when I heard the door.

“Something smells wonderful,” I heard sweet Maggie call out before I saw her enter the kitchen. Maggie was really beautiful. Her auburn hair was swept up in a messy bun, framing her flawless skin. Her cheeks were pink from being outside in the early fall chill.

Oh, you’ve got it bad, girl.

Maybe it was my zeal after spending the day with Brent, but she looked radiant standing before me.

Placing two plates on the table, a colossal smile stretched my face. She noticed and smiled back at me adoringly.

Right Cassidy, if someone was designed for each of us, then why was Maggie
still alone?

She asked how my day went and I filled her in, leaving out any part about Brent. She listened to me rattle on all through dinner. Finally acknowledged my selfish behavior, I asked about her day. She told me it was rather uneventful, and that she had taken a long walk along the river, picking some wild flowers to make a wreath for the fall.

My thoughts drifted while Maggie spoke, fixating on Brent, her voice a low hum in the background. She continued, while I mentally played out every interaction with Brent today searching for some understanding as to why I was feeling the need to drive to his house and be near him. Replaying the entire afternoon in slow motion, I convinced myself that Layken may have been right about him. Maybe he did like me, and I liked him, unequivocally.

No…No you don’t. You can’t get close to someone, Claire. Think about it. Could you really say goodbye to him?

Maggie’s was waving her hand in front of my face, attempting to bring me back to reality. “Earth to Claire,” she chimed, snapping her fingers now, her wrinkles creasing around her eyes.

I shook my head, feeling the flush in my cheeks. “Oh, sorry, Mags. What did you say?”

Maggie raised a disapproving brow. “Are you alright, dear? You seem distracted.”

I lied. “Sorry, I’m fine. I think I’m just a little tired, first day stress and all.”

“Well, okay,” she said, smiling her disbelief. “But if you need to talk, you know I’m always here.”

Picking up my plate, I stood up from the table and kissed her on the forehead. “Yes, I know. Thanks. I love you.”

One of the great things about Maggie was that she never pushed. She gently reminded me she was around, but never attempted to drag things out of me. Given the thoughts I was having just then, I was extremely grateful for that.

Cleaning up after dinner, I washed the dishes and put the left-overs in the fridge. When I finished, I headed upstairs to get ready for bed, hoping sleep would not elude me as my mind was racing about Brent. Our banter about the book I was reading had me reeling. He spoke so passionately about it. I wondered if there was a hidden meaning behind his analysis. Was he was trying to tell me something?

You are out of control. It’s just a book. Go to bed!

Undressing, I looked in the mirror noticing a bruise on my chest much darker than I expected from where Logan pushed me; not surprising with my fair complexion. Moving closer to the mirror, I got a better look at the markings on my skin and I thought I saw the faint impression of a handprint. I was all the more thankful Brent was there. Thinking about him defending my honor caused my skin to boil and my cheeks to blush, which was getting rather annoying. Prior to today, my father was the only boy to have me blushing, usually after he embarrassed me.

Spending a long time in the shower, the hot water beat down on me, soothing and relaxing away my stress. I got out and brushed my hair and teeth. Pulling on some grey sweatpants and an old t-shirt that belonged to my dad, it still smelled like him. I shook my head to keep myself from thinking too long about him so I wouldn’t cry.

Crawling under the covers, I sank into the pillow and began reading my book. It was one of my all-time favorite classic love stories. Thinking back to Brent’s comment about it being sad, I wondered what he really meant about forgoing what was designed as important. I shrugged, thinking Layken was right. Brent did seem so much older than he was. Brent continued to distract my reading while I compared myself with Lucy and her conflicted feelings for George. From the moment I laid eyes on him, he made me feel things – things I’ve never felt – things that I wasn’t sure I should feel.

You’re in big trouble,
girl.

I laid there with a giant grin stretched across my face, reading the same paragraph again and again, attempting to retain what it said.

Finally giving up on reading, I got out of bed and went to the window to open it for some fresh air. Maggie was at the end of the driveway speaking to someone. She shifted and I felt my heart in my throat. She was talking to Brent.
What is he doing here?
I turned away from the window so he didn’t see me. A million thoughts ran through my brain. Was he here to see me, if so, what would I say to him?

When I returned to the window, I felt incredibly foolish. It wasn’t Brent but rather an older man with glasses. He was tall, towering over Maggie. He must be a neighbor, though I had met all of them and he didn’t look familiar. He appeared to be explaining something to Maggie and she responded in a scolding manner. The man didn’t seem fazed, gesturing to the house as though he was discussing its occupant. Immediately, I thought it must be Brent’s Dad. He was obviously here to make sure that Maggie’s odd niece steered clear of his son.

My chagrin grew. What was wrong with people in this town? My family was a little eccentric but totally harmless. In fact, they were very kind people that would never harm a fly. Yet, most everyone in this town acted as though we were some kind of infectious disease with no cure. People really were gullible, believing our house was haunted. All the ghost stories floating around about my family were just plain silly to me. But most of the people in this town actually believed them.

Anger continued its invasion on my thoughts. I headed down stairs, set on defending Maggie. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, Maggie was entering the front door. She looked up at me surprised.

With a warm smile she said, “Oh, hi honey. I thought you’d gone up to bed.”

“Who were you talking to?” I responded, holding back anger until she answered.

“That was Mr. Marshall, honey.” Registering the confusion on my face, she continued, “His son is Logan.”

Great! Even worse than Brent’s dad.

Agitation was stronger than my filter causing me to ask a little too harshly, “What did he want?”

“He said that Logan was upset after school about an altercation he had with you and some of your friends,” she stated, closing the door and locking it.

“It was only one friend,” I muttered, putting my head down, ashamed, as the tone of my voice conveyed typical teenage attitude. “And his son started it.”

Oh yeah, that was less typical,
Claire.

Should I explain further? I didn’t want to upset Maggie.

After she spoke, I understood there was no need to continue my defense. “He said he could assure you that Logan was not going to bother you again. He just wanted to make sure that your friends would not bother Logan either. I explained to him that they wouldn’t. Simple as that, dear.”

“No, of course not, Aunt Maggie,” I assured her.

She continued smiling like she never doubted I had anything to do with Logan’s poor manners and I loved her even more for it. “Good, then it’s settled. You really should get some sleep, Claire.”

Climbing up the stairs to my room, I was irritated. Logan was obviously not truthful with his Dad. It seemed he was afraid of Brent’s reaction however, and that pleased me. Clutching the bruise on my chest, I was grateful Brent was there to protect me. I would never tell him that, but it felt good to admit, if only to myself.

Climbing back into bed, I forgot about Logan and made another attempt at reading. I ignored the urge to analyze the words and examine Brent’s perception about Lucy’s design. It wasn’t long before I was deep asleep.

My body was heavy, and it felt like the bed was sucking me in. I fought against it but I was being weighed down and I awoke startled, choking, and unable to catch my breath. Feeling fingers curled around my neck, I clawed at something, skin, but the attacker didn’t move. Summoning what little strength I had, I twisted and turned trying to free myself. It was hopeless. I attempted to scream but swallowed my voice. Pulling my knees up, I dug my feet into the bed and thrust my body upwards. My effort was worthless as my body remained pinned. Forcing my eyes open, I narrowed them when I saw Logan. He was laughing and his eyes were filled with familiar hate.

“You little freak,” he spat angrily, drops of his saliva landed on my cheek.

Unable to fight him any longer, my body went limp. Crying, I pleaded with him to stop but he only squeezed harder. I fought to get small breaths through my constricted airways, but it wasn’t enough. Starting to sob uncontrollably, I was teetering on unconsciousness and I finally gave up.

“What’s the matter, freak, no one to save you this time?” he snickered, pressing harder and I knew that he was going to kill me.

“Claire, Claire, wake up!” I heard Maggie’s voice shouting through my fear and felt her hands on both sides of my arms. “You were dreaming, dear. Are you all right?”

Groggily, I woke and grabbed her, hugging her tight. I was coughing and gulping in air. “I’m okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Releasing me, she ran a hand down the side of my hair lovingly, the way my parents used to do. She lay with me until I drifted off to sleep again.

When I awoke, Maggie was gone. It was 5:30am and my alarm would not go off for another half hour but I was not able to go back to sleep. Deciding to get out of bed, I went over and curled up in the window seat. It was foggy outside which was how I felt. My mind wandered to Brent. Without success, I tried to pin point what it was about him that kept drawing me in. My feelings were more than a first crush. I was certain about that. Could I really be falling for him after one day?

Falling for him? You’re in love with him.

Remembering my awful nightmare, I curled my fingers around my neck trying to forget how it felt with Logan’s fingers pressing into my Adams apple, spitting hatred at me. Logan didn’t actually attack me but the pain in my neck felt real and I cringed at the thought of seeing him today, having to look in those cold black eyes, so full of hate. How could he hate me so much when we’ve never even met? I felt a twinge of sadness for Logan remembering that Layken said Logan was always angry. He must be very unhappy to get so much pleasure from others’ pain.