My lips feel cold after the hot kissing we did. Even inside the car, where the heater is on a little, it feels cold. And my skin. With my shirt and coat on, and my pants all straightened with my belt tight around my hips, I feel cold. We didn't take it far. Just steamy kissing and body groping. I just wish I was comfortable doing more. But after about twenty minutes of kissing and groping, I was too flustered and embarrassed to do any more. Bennet was able to read my face and see that I wasn't in the mood to keep going, so he dressed me back up and escorted me back to the passenger seat.My house comes into view as we exit the tiny forest that surrounds the outside of the peninsula that my house is on. It seems empty and strange, with the moon shining off the white and black exterior. The empty windows remind me of my own eyes, which must seem dark and boring. How Bennet can call them beautiful is beyond me.We pull up to the front, and the car shudders to a stop. Looking over, Be
"Monday, Monday! I wish it was Friday!" I rhyme playfully as I drive to school. I'm usually not this hyped about going to school, but after my encounter with Bennet in life, I guess things change. Almost a week has passed since our date, well a week and a day or so, but I still feel as if it was yesterday. I can still imagine him holding me. And kissing. I will never forget that. But after our date, I was too shy to even think about kissing. Or hugs. Whenever we met afterward I felt so embarrassed. It was very unlike me to get so excited, not to mention how I was about ready to get things more exciting. Bennet was very happy about how we kissed. He met me the Monday after the weekend of our date, and I think he expected me to start kissing him in public. When I said no, he looked like he was conflicted about making me kiss him or just letting me take my time. He just walked away after that. And he kind of is a little short with me whenever I see him. Though at lunch he
After my breakdown in the locker room, Bennet and I became what most people would call lovers. Bennet hugged me and held me, and I let him. And he occasionally kissed me. And I let him. I became more of a lover worthy of him. Well, I could say I was always worthy, maybe, but I'm not sure of that. I just know, I'm all in for him now. With all that emotional wreck that I acted as that day, I'm sure I need to stop being hard-to-get. Or, I just have to figure out how to keep myself all together even on rainy, dreary, sad, and emotionally debilitating days. I don't think I cried like that since I bought a pair of shoes that the next day a kid spilled ice cream on it. That was tragic, since they were genuine leather. But all that drama aside, I've made sure that I've been receptive, communicating, loving, can't forget that. I've been there for Bennet. And he liked me for that. Or maybe just as I am.**************************** The final bell of the day rings, and I exit the stu
Walking up the stairs, I'm trying not to trip because Teddy keeps pulling me."Hurry up!" he says excitedly."Okay! Slow down!"Even though Teddy only comes up to only my chest height, because he's higher up on the staircase, he's pulling me like a sack of potatoes. Bennet is behind me, just watching me."Hurry! I want to show you my room!" says Teddy excitedly."Okay!"I didn't know kids love having attention. But, I guess that's to be expected. They love it to have attention showering on them like the rain.Reaching the second floor, Teddy leads me down the hallway with the windows that look out on the forest near the house. Leading me to a door, he throws it open. Inside is a cute little room, with light blue wallpaper and white and red furniture. A kid-size bed sits on the left side of it. It's about the size of my bedroom. This surprises me, seeing as how Teddy is scarce a third-grader, maybe, and yet he has such a large room to himself."What do you think of my room?" asks Teddy
I seriously think I'm going crazy. But not in a way that most people would call a maniac. More like crazy for Bennet. Ever since I visited Bennet's house two days ago, I can't help but want to see him. Whenever I'm not seeing him.Right now, I'm at home, just getting ready for dinner. Bennet said he might swing by later, so I'm just getting some chicken to eat. I'm thinking of just frying them and pouring some vinegar and soy-sauce mixture I know. Also making a little salad. Looking out the window, I observe the grey sky. It's really getting cold. November is just so quick. Next week is Thanksgiving, and school let out yesterday. One of the pros of living in a small town, you get to decide when kids get out, and if it's a little early than the rest of the country, so what? Nobody notices.I put the chicken in some batter, and set it next to the stove. Grabbing two dinner plates, I set them on the kitchen island and lay them out so I can put the chicken on once I fry it. I'm pretty sur
My hand hangs behind me, in Bennet's, as we walk up to the third floor. His warm hand seems to radiate the heat of an electric blanket. Or a puppy. A big puppy. "Are you okay with sleeping together?" asks Bennet. "I'm okay with it," I reply simply. We make it to the landing, and I lead him down the short hallway to my room. Opening the door, I show him in. As Bennet steps in, he closes his eyes as he takes a deep breath of my room. I can't help but laugh at what he's doing. He opens his eyes and looks at me. "What?" he asks. "Nothing," I say as I giggle. Turning to the bathroom, I walk over to it. But two thick arms wrap around from behind me and throw me onto the bed. I gasp out. Bennet walks over to the bed and pulls me to the edge of it. Leaning over me, he leaves just enough room for me to reach up and touch his face. "Tell me," he says. I smile. "No." Bennet frowns. Bennet pulls my arms over my head and holds them with only one of his hands. Using th
Arriving at Bennet's house, I drive up to the little clearing in front of the front door. Parking my car and wrapping my scarf around my thin neck, I push open the door and step out. Walking around to the trunk, I open it and lift the large plate of chocolate pecan pie. I wrapped it in aluminum foil, and a thick canvas cloth I found to keep it warm. I made it this morning. School has been out since last week, so I had plenty of time to go over my recipe. I found it in one of mom's old cooking books. It was handwritten, and I pored over the pages for a few hours, admiring the penmanship. The cold bitter wind stirs up and lashes across my face. I shiver. November in Handerville is really cold. It seems to bite. Carrying it carefully in front of me, I walk to the front door, climbing up the steps of the porch. As I near, the door opens. Bennet stands with a smile. I smile back. Walking in, I set the plate on a little table next to the door and jump into his warm and inviting arm
Stepping into the school, I'm can help but feel a little down. Thanksgiving break is officially dead for this year, and I have to wait another two weeks before Christmas break. Oh well. That's life. I'm walking to my locker and keeping an eye out for Bennet so I can jump into his warm and inviting arms when I hear some strange whispers. Kids are talking back and forth about something. "...A new kid is coming..." "...Says that he's from the city! City of lights!" "...Never seen anybody like him..." I disregard whatever they're saying, and approach my locker. Opening it, I reach in and grab some stuff. Kids these days happen to talk about anything and everything. So there's a new kid? What about it? I never got this much fuss and gossip when I got here. Not that I needed it. I'm perfectly fine with being a shadow in a world of skyscrapers. Nothing to see here, keep marching along now. Stowing my stuff. I close my locker. I'm turning around to see if Bennet's h
There's a wide room with a matching window that has the scene of the ocean beyond a small meadow and a small group of trees to the right. There are two chairs and one round high coffee table between. Two people sit, one you know, one you don't. At least not from this story. "So," says Cayce, "I'll introduce myself first. But since this is the end of my book then you probably know about me enough. Cayce Vance, eighteen. Married around now, ready for some action, and half-demon and half-angel hybrid." Cayce raises his wings to prove his last statement, and they move around. Because he's wearing a shirt with holes in the back they're visible to the audience. "So, now you introduce yourself," says Cayce to the other person. "Reza Kelson," replies the other person, Reza, "read my book." "Now, this is supposed to be the part where you promote your book so that everyone will read it," says Cayce, "I mean, this bonus chapter is supposed to be the promotion for An Eye for a Bullet.
The waves crash onto the summer beach and spread out across the wet sand. Foam and bits of rocks and broken shells are left behind as the wave retreats back to the sea. Then again, it crashes. And then retreats. Back and forth. A repetitive movement. Yet somewhat soothing to look at.Reaching up and adjusting my sunglasses, I look over at Bennet who's sitting in a reclining beach like the one I sit in. The hot summer day is just at its peak. Hot and humid. It brings out the sweat in your body, and the umbrella that is giving us shade gives little coolness to ward off the sweltering air.And I'm sweating a bit, the amount that is just like when you take out a cool water bottle from the fridge. The second you take it out. Just enough droplets that if you touch it you get a hint of water. It sticks a bit to my shirt uncomfortably.But Bennet besides me is like an ice cube in a stove. Laying back with his arms behind his head, his body sweats profusely, even in the weak shade. He wears
"You sure you're alright?" asks Meg as she helps me through the backdoor. "I think I'll be fine," I say, using just as much of her help as my wings to carry myself, "I'm not going to be walking around too much. Just hanging out in the backyard." "It probably is a good idea anyways that you get out and have some fresh air, anyways," says Meg while nodding, "cabin fever is not fun." "Well, I'd call your house a little more than just a cabin," I say with a laugh, and she joins in. "Aww, you're too kind," says Meg. She helps me maneuver to a little patio set, a table and eight chairs which I sit at one, and she also sets down a few books from school for me. "You going to be alright out here?" asks Meg, "I'm sure you'll be alright, but I just want to be sure." "I will, I promise," I say with a nod, "if I need anything, I'll make sure to shout." "I should be able to hear you," says Meg, nodding at the house, where many of the windows are open to air out the house, "I'll
The sound of breaking glass and wood, mixed in with the roar of chemical energy seems to rip the air into shreds. My body that is in the air is blown back by the force of the explosion, but my wings manage to keep me afloat in the broken air. Stone and glass fly out and some hits my skin, some breaking through it to bite the red flesh beneath. But what's worse is that Frederic is flying at me. He lands on top of me, taking us both down. I scream and try to get him off as we cartwheel through the air like mating bald eagles, but he clamps on to me with a death grip. And then he raises the blade that catches the light of the burning tower. Thinking quickly, I swivel around in a barrel-roll, managing to get him off me. He tumbles through the air and lands on the ground below with a sickening splat. I breathe out in relief, but something burns in my chest as I do. Looking down, I see the knife buried three inches deep right below my collar-bone. I shriek and pull the knife out
The weights are the main problem. Not the height. Thank whatever force there is for the wings I have. But the weights are still here, and they ain't going away anytime soon. The weights I could hold in my hands while I manage to fly up there. But then how would I be able to break through the ceiling? It looks like it's made of wood, and I could easily break through that with my wings. But with my bare hands? Forget it. And even if I managed to get up there, to hold myself there I would need to anchor myself into the wall or the ceiling with my wings, and then I would just be hanging there. Not to mention that Frederic might be up there. If he's up there, I might as well be surrendering myself to him. But if he is up there, and I manage to tear the floor out from under his feet, then I could easily drop him to his death. But then what? I would still have these 30-pound weights hanging around each of my legs, and still with broken ankles. Frederic would be taken care of, but th
Headaches ought to be one of the things that doctors spend their money on to actually get rid of in this world. Otherwise, there's no real hope for this world. At least, in my opinion. And this headache I have right now is just the perfect example to prove that point. I mean, How many people do you know who were actually in a fight with a weirdo and then you get thrown into sand and then...wait...huh? My head seems to be swirling in mud, or tar, or some other heavy and thick substance. My eyes are not able to open, but my body slowly is making its way out to the surface of the muckiness I'm in. The skin on my arms seem to get colder, and I feel a tugging sensation. My arms drift up and up. Up and over my head. And my eyes finally start to crack open. I'm in a dark place. That's what I would say about it. It's dark. It's not that big, but not too small. The circular room I sit in is tiled and the walls are made of stone. It towers up and up, and above I see a faraway ceiling.
Fredric's hand is just about a foot away from Teddy's head. Now three quarters. I seem to feel something die and another something comes alive in my chest. Hope and dread? Undoubtedly. But then a miracle happens. Teddy bends down and pulls the shell out of the sand. Fredric's sinister grin turns into shock as his hand passes through the air. He loses his balance and steps slightly away from Teddy. That's all I need. I beat my wings back, reach Teddy and hug him to my chest. The shell he was holding falls to the sand. At least I think it did. I've already beat my wings forward so as to propel myself and Teddy backward. Fredric now stands twenty yards away. He has black pants that cling to his legs, and his chest is bare. His wet black hair waves in the light breeze and the clouds cover the sun, blotting out all brightness. Teddy squirms in my arms. "Cayce?" I hear Meg shout. Crap! She's human, she needs to get out of here! I glance back and see Meg running over with the
Walking into the kitchen, I take in a deep breath of the good smell of bacon. I sigh in content at the delicious smell. "Good morning Cayce," says Meg when she notices me. "Good morning," I chirp back. I walk over and give a quick hug. "Cooking breakfast?" I ask. "Yeah, gotta have the table ready for the big family," she says as she stirs the bacon with a spatula. Next to the stove two plates piled with buttered pancakes sit steaming. I also see a plate with cooked pieces of tomato, as well as another with sunny-side-up eggs piled on it. "Somebody's been busy," I say nonchalantly. I step over the drying rack and get some water from the tap, taking a sip as I sit at the kitchen island. "Tell me about it," says Meg. She looks over at the clock, about nine in the morning. "They'll start to get up soon. Where's Bennet?" "He's upstairs. He was in the bathroom when I came down here." "How is it sleeping with him?" "It's nice," I say with a grin. "He's like an electric heat
I don't think there was any other point in time that was this strange. At least in life my life. Bennet and I have been spending the whole of the last two weeks cooped up in my house or his house, being together and safe. Grid and Neil, along with Teddy went to school, but Bennet thought it wasn't safe, hence me being absent. The time we spent together was strange. It was harmony and heaven. A kind of limbo. Because I was just so happy to spend time with him I think I got a little stupid. I was careless, and just a bit of center. The same could be said for Bennet. He accidentally poured bleach into the bathtub instead of a bubble-bath solution. His leg hairs were bleached white. Today, winter break started. Grid, Neil and Teddy didn't have any school, and Harold and Meg are both a bit annoyed that they have to take care of all the kids. I'm just enjoying the company of the Fitzroy family. They're very rowdy, and loud, but they have this strange harmony of theirs. It's nice to