Authors: Michelle M. Watson
Back To Reality
Went for a run.
Figured I didn’t need the cuffs this
time.
I’m not through with you so stay in bed.
I’ll make you breakfast when I get back.
Hunter
Groaning,
I press my face in the feather-filled pillows with a silly grin on my face,
holding Hunter’s note in my hand. I stretch, never feeling so sore and sated in
my life…
Wait;
being sore and sated and playing house with Hunter is not my objective.
My God.
I
lost what my priority is: finding my brother’s murderer.
I’m
such a shitty sister.
In
a rush I dress and snatch my cell from his stand. I call Falcon and give him
the directions to Hunter’s house. I have to goals in mind now:
To separate myself from Hunter.
To
find and bring my brother’s killer to justice by any means necessary.
***
Gritting
my teeth and gripping my steering wheel, I kill the engine of my car. I’m
parked in front of the front office of Cherry Creek High School. Cherry Creek
High School is composed of many old brick buildings and white lion statues that
declare our lion pride. Zipping my black hoodie up to my neck and stepping out
of my toasty car, I glance at the overcast sky above before making my way to
the glass front door. The sky is always grey and the temperature is so cold in
December. Taking a deep breath, I open the door.
It’s
very warm and brightly lit inside and always smells of fruity orange chemical
cleaner. Just outside the office is a glass shelves that showcase school
trophies, awards, and pictures. In one group picture from Drama class, I notice
Tyler smiling massively while surrounded by his fellow classmates that all
cling to him. My heart does a strange pitter-patter and I have to suck in a
sharp breath. He looks so happy, carefree there.
Gathering
my composure, I head into the small office. The room in divided by a long
counter where two desks sit behind, but one is vacant and the other has Mrs.
Nash, my very old English teacher, snoozing. Using the chained pen on the
clipboard, I sign in as a guest. Without being too rude, I clear my throat to
wake her.
Her
lids quickly flutter open and her eyes search the room until they land on me.
She smiles instantly.
“Oh, my…How nice it is to see you, Miss
Waters.
How is college going? I hope your still getting A’s in English.
You were just a model student—so kind and obedient unlike the hooligans that
infest the school now.”
“Thank
you. I’m fine, Mrs. Nash. College is…college. And yes I’m still getting A’s in
English. I was wondering if it would be okay to just take a memory stroll
around
campus?
”
“Of course, Isabel.
Have you signed
in?”
I
nod.
“Well,
come around so I can give you your tag.” I walk around the counter and she
pulls a red and white visitor’s pass from her desk drawer, scribbling my name across
in black ink. She attaches the sticker on my chest, smiling at me. “Beware of
them today; it’s the last day of school before winter break hits. Come back and
see me now,” she says, handing me a few peppermints and patting my hand
good-naturedly. I always find myself wondering what the link is with candy
peppermints and elderly people.
The
office building is connected to the large cafeteria and leads to smaller
corridors that are joined with other buildings. The warm aroma of cafeteria
food makes me queasy so I pop a mint in my mouth. It always smells of steamed
vegetables and apple juice. I’m startled when the bell rings, and I pause as
students swarm the aisles.
It’s
like high school all over again as soon as I step foot in maroon halls of
Cherry High. I can feel the student’s eyes bore into me as I make my way
through the passageways. They’re all whispering and laughing as I walk past.
The funny thing about torture is that it never changes, even if you do.
A
warm hand wraps around my fingers. I peek up to see Lark’s spectacular hazel
eyes trained on mine. “Hello, lovely. What are you doing roaming around in the
lion’s den?”
“I-I…I’m
looking for Hero.”
His
brows lift. “Cheating on me already?”
“Never.
I just need to
talk him. Hunter wouldn’t give me his number, so I decided a face-to-face
meeting is due. Do you know where he is?”
He
scrunches up his nose in distaste. “Everyone knows where he is. He’s shoving
his tongue down his sister’s throat in the stairwell.” Lark begins to pull me
in the direction. “I figured she’s adopted and all. I mean, Naya looks nothing
like them with the dark skin and dark hair. But still. That’s his little
sister. That’s fucking gross.”
Naya
adopted?
“You
think they have sex…?”
He
shudders. “God, I hope not.”
“Is
that why you and Hero aren’t friends anymore?”
Lark
sucks on his lip ring for a moment. “I guess. Well, I’ve had this thing for
Naya since I can remember. Emotionally dark and haunted girls get me off. Don’t
judge me. I don’t know why.
Anyway.
Tyler knew, Hero
knew, the entire population of Cherry Creek knew. Naya and I…I don’t know how
to explain it, it’s just something there. It’s like an unbreakable link between
us and I feel like Hero is an obstacle in our way. Do you know he lets her
sleep in his bed every night? How fucking crazy is that?”
He
yanks me as I try to keep up with his long strides. “Tyler and I slept in the
same bed together.”
“Yeah,
but that’s harmless compared to Hero and Naya. They are on some next level
shit. I can’t begin to wrap my damn head around it.” He runs a frustrated hand
through his thick bangs and sighs. “The weird thing about this whole situation,
though, is that I find myself still waiting for her to come around. It’s
fucking sick, right?”
We
reach the wooden door to the stairwell. I give his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“Never give up, Lark. Some things are just meant to be.”
He
holds the door open and nods. “Yeah, I hope so.” He gestures to the door.
“They’re in there. I can wait out here if you want, then walk you to your car
or whatever.”
“You
don’t need to be in class?”
He
gives his curly head a shake. “Nah, I’m on lunch.”
“Okay.
It shouldn’t take long.” He holds the door open for me. I step into the dim
area and hear Hero and Naya’s voice floating down.
“…this
is getting too complicated, Naya. It shouldn’t be like this, and I don’t know
why it is.”
“You
won’t even try, Hero. Not even for me.”
“For
fuck’s sake, you’re my sister. I can’t do this with you anymore. My life is in
so much turmoil already. Adding you to the list is just another burden.”
“If
I’m such a burden, why won’t you let anyone get near me, especially Lark? You
know I like him, yet you tell him to stay away from me. Why won’t you just let
me go then?”
“Date
him. I don’t care anymore.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Footsteps
stomp down the stairs; I press my back against the wall and hold my breath when
Naya flings open the door and storms out. Good, she didn’t see me, but Hero
does as he makes his way down the steps. His angry eyes lock onto mine.
“What the fuck?!”
“I-I
need to talk to you about Green Frog.”
His
face contorts into fury and bewilderment. “
What
!”
“I
know about Green Frog, Hero. Naya told me. Whoever it is, they got into contact
with me through Tyler’s laptop. And another thing: I was shoved off that cliff.
I didn’t jump. Someone is trying to kill me…like they killed Tyler.”
“
What
?!”
he says in utter disbelief, dragging his hands down his ashen face. “Okay,
okay…we need to talk, but not here though. Meet me at Tyler’s grave in four
hours. We can go over everything then. Bring the laptop.”
“Alright.”
Hero
grips my hand and tugs me with him out the door. We pause as the majority of
Cherry High gawks at us. I spot Lark and Naya conversing quietly by the
cafeteria entrance. Rex and Taylor gilds by. Something strange happens then.
Hero squeezes my hand to the point of pain. Rex eyes him, then me and smirks,
wrapping an arm across Taylor’s shoulders. Taylor doesn’t make eye contact with
neither of us. She clutches her books to her chest, looking straight ahead as
if oblivious to everything.
What
happened between them?
I
thought Taylor liked Hero.
How
can she possibly move on so fast?
“You
should go now,” he whispers, releasing my hand.
Nodding,
I massage blood flow back into my limb.
When
I get to Flacon’s house, Harmony tries on sparkly gowns for the Winter Ball
while Victor pairs accessories with each one. Falcon is lounged across the
couch with Birthday in his arms, vaguely conscious of us in the center of the
living room.
“Are
you sure you don’t want to take your pick, Izzy? I’ve made several dresses.
Falcon keeps me inside all day. There’s nothing for me to do except create and
sew.”
I
shrug dismissively. “Umm…I’m probably not going. No one has asked me yet.”
“What
about Hunter?” Vic prompts.
“He
has a date already.”
“Bastard,”
Harmony mutters, smoothing out the dark plum gown that looks amazing against
her caramel skin. “I don’t like him.”
“I
know, Harm. You’ve told me a million times already.”
“FYI
if you two run off and elope, it may take me a while to be your friend again,”
Harmony declares, scooping her blond long hair off her shoulders with both
hands. “Now should I wear my hair up or down?” she questions the full-length
mirror.
“Up,”
Vic replies, placing a glittery necklace around her neck.
“We
are not eloping and getting married. Calm down. He just understands me. That’s
all.”
“Whatever.
He still gives me the creeps.”
I
fasten the long row of silk buttons down her back. “Who are
you
going
with, anyway?”
She
blushes when she admits, “Jake.”
Falcon’s
eyes brows lift to his hairline and he smiles hugely. “Jake West?”
“Yeah.
Jake West. He
asked me, so I’m going.”
“Wow,”
I murmur, still buttoning. “Jake’s hot.”
“And
dreamy and smart and handsome,” Harmony sighs in a giddy voice I’ve never heard
from her before.
“Sounds
like someone’s in love. Who knew a reptile could have a warm heart. ” Falcon
taunts.
“Fuck
off, Falcon,” she growls.
“I
wish they would just fuck already and it get it over with. He has an all access
pass when it comes to you and her,” Vic adds, grinning with a mischief glint in
his eyes. “But I’m the only guy he gets to have.”
“Ha.
In her dreams!”
Flacon shouts, laughing, rubbing
Birthday’s belly.
“Honey,
you wish you were in my dreams,” Harmony counters. She turns to face him and
provokingly slides her hands along the soft curves of her body. Her voice takes
on a huskier tone that sounds like pure sex. “You want my body, don’t you,
Falcon?”
His
brown eyes narrow and darken but he licks his lips. I don’t think he’s actually
aware of it. He doesn’t answer. She laughs, breaking the spell and turns back
to the mirror.
“The
two of you would be alternating between fucking and fighting,” I say, giggling
at my own joke.
“That
is so true,” Vic murmurs. “Izzy, you should really look at some of these gowns.
You might change your mind.”
I
end up picking a high neck flowing white ball gown dripping with lace, tulle,
and satin. It even has long sleeves with intricate lace designs.
Instructions Make
A
Difference
It’s
dark when I arrive at the cemetery, but I stay in my car though that’s parked
at the entrance. I gaze out the windshield at the empty parking lot, realizing
that it’s severely spooky out here. Someone could easily be lurking in the
shadows of the night, ready to a take and bury me six feet under in an unnamed
ditch where no one would ever find me…
I
jump and scream when Hero taps on my window. He laughs and holds up a bundle of
colorful wildflowers. I unlock the doors and roll my eyes, muttering a curse
under my breath.
“Let
me put these on his headstone. Lock the doors. I’ll be back in sec.” I lock the
doors and he runs off into the darkness. My heart is thundering against my ribs
the entire time.
What
if something happens to him?
He
jogs back to my car. I unlock the doors and he slides into the passenger seat,
throwing the hood off his head. Hero brings his hands to his mouth and blows on
them as he rubs them together. “It’s fucking cold outside.”
I
turn the heat dial up to warm him. “Why did you wait so long to meet me?”
He
shrugs, staring straight ahead. “I had practice.”
My
eyes widen in shock. “You’re back on the team?”
Hero
turns to look at me. “I love football, Isabel. Did you bring the laptop?”
“Yeah.”
I reach over
and grab it from the backseat. “We haven’t been in contact for some time now.”
“Who
do you think pushed you off that cliff?”
“If
I knew, I would certainly share,” I say mockingly.
“You
know, I find it fascinating that you can still be sarcastic at a time like
this. Do you not understand that someone tried to kill you?”
I
try to stifle the hilarious laughter the bubble out of me in loud spurts. Hunter
gives me a concerned look. “Yes, I understand that someone is trying to or
tried to kill me. I understand it because it happened to me!” I suddenly burst
into tears and Hero engulfs me in a warm, soothing embrace.
“We
need to go to your house. Switch seats with me so I can drive.”
“You’re
going to leave your car here?”
“I
didn’t drive here, I jogged.”
“That’s
a forty five minute walk from your house,” I mumble throughout tears.
He
strokes my hair. “I needed that walk,” he murmurs in my hair.
The
ride to my house is silent. I get a handle on my tears and gaze out the window.
The sky has never been so clear and filled with twinkling stars that shine so
brightly above like specks of shimmering glitter in the sky. The earth
underneath the tires transform from solid road to crunchy gravel, the dark
silhouette of a square begins to appear until we reach the front drive of my
house. This house is really beautiful in the daylight. I grew up in a two-story
southern farmhouse with classic Palladian windows. My mom said she wanted it
because it’s painted a soft eggshell yellow—her favorite color—and it has a
wraparound porch that’s surrounded by an abundant of lilac bushes that never
fail to bloom. I loved this house because of the gigantic willow tree and the stream
that curls entirely around the house; I can hear the calm water washing over
stones right from my bedroom window.
I
instruct Hero to retrieve the house key from under the empty pot. He inserts
the key in the lock and opens the door. We step into the dark space. I flip on
the light switch panel on the living room wall. My house is spacious and airy
with a comfortable, harmonious mix of traditional and modern furniture that
include stylishly large overstuffed couches, floral print chairs, lavish royal
blue wallpaper, and dark wooden furniture fixtures and floors.
“I
always loved coming to your house. It’s so inviting.” Hero says, his voice
echoing through the vast space.
This
house does have a welcoming vibe but what lies beneath the surface is much more
horrifying. I sit the laptop on the glass coffee table. “Why did you want to
come to my house?”
He
glances at our family pictures that’s scattered among the walls and counters.
“Do you remember your dad teaching us how to fire a gun?”
“Yeah,”
I say warily.
“You
and Hunter were the best at targeting those glass jars. Tyler and I sucked. We
couldn’t aim for shit.”
My
brows snap together, confused. “Okay…”
“Do
know where he keeps his gun?”
“Umm…my
mom kept it in her closet in an old shoebox on the top shelf.” I vaguely wonder
why she never but the thing in a safe.
Did
she want to access it quickly in case she needed it?
Hero
cocks his head, an inquisitive expression on his face. “Can you show me?”
I
gesture to the wooden stairs. He follows me up as each step groans. We turn
right and cross the loft area and reach the closed wooden door to my parents’
bedroom. My stomach knots, my heart rate pikes, and my breathing quickens as I
reach for the golden knob. I already know what it looks like.
The cream lace yellow curtains.
The
four-poster bed in the center of the room with a million unnecessary pillows
and fluffy white comforter.
My mother’s beautifully dainty glass
knickknacks that are disorderly placed throughout but somehow linked as a map
to greatest liked to least.
Countless photos of my father.
Mom loved to take family pictures, especially pictures of my
father.
I
remember to breathe when Hero walks inside and turns on a lamp by the door.
“Are you okay, Isabel?”
“It’s
just surreal to be in here right now. I haven’t been in this room for years.”
He
makes his way over to me and rubs his hands repeatedly down the length of my
arms as if to warm me. “It’s okay. Your parents loved you. Just think about
that when all the sad feelings come back.”
They
never left.
“Okay.”
I
lead him to the double doors that open to their walk-in closet. My eyes
immediately dart to the slim pasty yellow shoebox with a bright red lid labeled
by some popular French designer. I gingerly take down the box and hand it over
to Hero, who opens it. He peers into the box and smiles.
“Your
dad was badass.”
I
nod. “He was.”
Only
a badass would teach young kids how to aim and fire.
“Do
you know why he killed himself?” Hero asks cautiously.
“No.
Why?”
“Green
Frog asked me to find out more information about your parents’ suicide. Green
Frog said you were too fragile to take on the task.”
My
face contorts into bafflement. “My parents’ suicide has something to do with
Tyler’s death?”
“I
think so. I guess it does in some way. You should rest. I’m gonna poke around
here a bit until I find something.” Hero closes the box that holds my father’s
nine millimeter.
“What
are you looking for?”
“That’s
the problem: I don’t know. But I figured it’s something from their past.” He
sits the shoebox on the bed and I follow him inside the vast closet. He glances
at the rows upon rows of stacked boxes. He points at the shelves. “I have a
feeling that I should start there.”
Nodding,
I sit crossed-legged on the smooth white carpet that’s laid throughout their
closet. I snatch my mother’s green sweater off a wire hanger and bring it to my
face, inhaling her sweet scent that smells of warmth and sunshine. My eyes
sting and fill with tears.
I
miss them so much.
“Who
do you think Green Frog is?”
“Your
guess is just as good as mine,” Hero says, rummaging through my parents’ stuff.
“It’s someone we know though.”
We
remain silent for a while, and I note that Hunter and Max haven’t called once
today. Hunter is most likely pissed at me for leaving and Max is probably upset
with me for not calling him when I said I promised I would. My life is in such
chaos. I don’t know which way is up or down anymore. I’ll call Max once Hero
and I are through.
“Hey,
did you know your parents were friends with my dad and Smith, my dad’s older
brother?” Hero asks as he flips through an old dark purple photo album
blanketed with a thick layer of dust. I’ve never seen that book in my life.
“No.
Let me see.”
He
sits next to me on the floor and we look through the album together. There are
many pictures of my mom and dad, Grace, Caleb and Smith. Caleb is Hunter’s and
Hero’s and Naya’s father. Smith was Caleb’s older brother, but with the exact
athletic built, crystal blue eyes, and blond hair, they could pass as twins. I
can tell that they’re at Cherry High by the dark blue lockers and brick
building in the background. They look young, too. With glittery scrunchies and
pink bubblegum lips, my mother had to be at least sixteen in these pictures.
But some of the poses don’t make any sense to me, like why my father’s arms are
wrapped protectively around Grace as they gaze lovingly into one another’s
eyes. They look like lovers. Smith and Caleb each have an arm thrown over my
mother’s shoulder and the three of them appear content together. In other
photos, my mother is either sitting on Smith’s lap or Caleb’s lap, but she is
never with my father. My father is always with Grace.
Were
Grace and my father a couple?
“This
is weird,” Hero murmurs, running his fingers over the plastic cover of the
pictures. “The way they acted towards one another you wouldn’t know that they
were ever close.”
“Why
do you think they never told us?”
Hero
shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe my dad is ashamed that he shared your mom with his
brother.”
I
jab him in the ribs with my elbow. “My mom wasn’t a whore.”
He
scowls at me, rubbing away the pain. Then he smiles. “I didn’t say that,
Isabel. I just mean she seemed like she was with both of them at the same
time.”
“And
your mama ‘seemed’ like she was with my dad. How could that be so when she
hated his guts?”
“Maybe,”
he whispers conspiratorially, “maybe everything we thought we knew isn’t what
it seems. Maybe it was just an illusion.”
“You’re
confusing me.”
“Okay.
Look at the evidence. My mom looks head over heels for Ivan and the feelings
look mutual. Smith and Caleb were deeply in love with your mother. I can see it
in their eyes. My guess is that she loved them both right back, but something
happened between them all for them to end up with different people. There is a
shared link here, a big secret that they all know and we have to figure out.
Why else would they want to bury the past with one another?”
“We
should ask your dad,” I suggest.
Hero
vigorously shakes his head. “No. Caleb won’t be any help. He’s a drunk and his
memory is shit.”
“Where
is he?”
He
shrugs, nonchalantly.
“In his condo drinking himself silly
before he leaves for another business trip.”
Mr.
Knight owns and develops properties throughout the states and Grace’s wealth
comes from oil. With the two of them combined they are the most powerful couple
in North Carolina, or was the most powerful couple.
“Did
Caleb ever hurt you guys when you were little?” I ask tentatively.
Hero
contemplates this for a moment before he whispers, “I think all parents end up
hurting their children, but whether it’s intentional or not makes the
difference.”
He
leaves the conversation at that. It’s evident that Mr. Knight has some kind of
damaging effect on his kids. It’s time that I find out what it is.