The Xoe Meyers Trilogy (Xoe Meyers Young Adult Fantasy/Horror Series) (6 page)

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Tags: #Vampires, #Werewolves, #demons, #Teen & Young Adult, #Fantasy, #Paranormal, #Romance, #paranormal urban fantasy, #coming of age fantasy, #Witches

By the time the movie ended I was no closer to coming up with an explanation. The credits began to roll and we all stood to leave the theater. After waiting behind the few shuffling people who had managed to reach the aisle before us, we finally made our way through and walked outside.   The chilly breeze made me glad that I had brought my jacket. I slipped it on while only half listening as Lucy and Allison talked about the movie on the way back to Allison’s car. I caught Lucy claiming that the movie was decent, once you got past the done-and-done-again plot . . . I hadn’t noticed.

I walked a little ahead of our group, huddled in my jacket. I stopped and waited at Allison’s car for everyone to catch up. I avoided Dan’s gaze as they reached me and looked to Lucy instead. She had Dan’s jacket draped over her shoulders.

Allison looked toward Dan and Lucy, then glanced at me. “Irvine’s?” she asked the group.

Dan looked confused.

“It’s a pizza parlor,” Allison explained.

Dan nodded. “Yeah, we’ll meet you there.”

We? Dan gave a slight wave and walked away with Lucy tagging a short distance behind him.

“Where are you going?” I called after her.

“I’m riding with Dan. I’ll see you guys there,” Lucy replied nonchalantly as she looked over her shoulder at me. She paused at the worried look on my face, but quickly recovered and hurried after Dan.

I slid into the passenger seat of Allison’s car with her already talking about Dan. “ . . . . I can’t believe Lucy snagged him. She has the best luck with guys . . . ”

Allison prattled on about Dan as she started the car and pulled out of the parking lot, but I couldn't hear her as I became lost in my own thoughts. What was Dan’s deal? What was
I
playing at? Why would he ask that? I shouldn’t have let Lucy go with him. My original perception of him seemed to be holding true . . . he was a
creep.

After we had been driving for a few minutes, Allison realized that I wasn’t listening to her. She glanced at me with an annoyed expression. “Hello? Xoe? Are you listening?”

Snapping out of my thoughts, I answered, “Sorry Al, I just have a lot on my mind right now.” I gave her my full attention.

“Like what?” she prompted, looking concerned as she watched the road in front of us.

“Um, Dan said something weird to me,” I replied after a moment of hesitation.

Allison waited a few seconds, and then seeing that I wasn’t going to elaborate questioned, “Well? What did he say?”

As a scowl formed on my face, I began to rant, “First, he stares at me
all
week in English, but never says a word. He talks to you guys like you’re perfectly normal. Then he manhandles me in the theater,
demanding
to know what I'm up to!What is that supposed to mean!”

Perplexed, Allison asked, “What you're up to? I should think it quite obvious . . . you’re up to being crazy. And what do you mean,
manhandled
?”

“He grabbed my arm and got in my face!”

Allison glanced worriedly at me, finally taking me seriously. “Did you provoke him or something?”

I gave her an outraged look.

Allison had the courtesy to look abashed as she turned her attention back to the road. “Sorry, stupid question. Shouldn’t we just talk to him about it? Give him a chance to explain himself?”

I shook my head, my anger fading into confusion. “No, I don't think that's a good idea. Let’s just keep an eye on him, okay?”

“I guess,” Allison conceded, “though it’s probably all just a misunderstanding.”

Realizing that I still hadn’t convinced her, I stared at Allison angrily.

Allison reached a red light and tried to stare me down.

I kept staring right back, jaw clenched stubbornly.

Allison sighed. “I’m sure he was just joking. As for the staring, I think it’s all in your head. He just has a weird sense of humor.” The light turned green and she hit the gas.

I tried a calmer approach. “I have a bad feeling Al, I’ve had it all week, I can’t explain it, but I’m worried.”

The concern returned to Allison’s face. “We’ll keep an eye on him Xoe, but I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

Hardly placated, I sat silently with my arms crossed the rest of the ride to Irvine’s.

We met Dan and Lucy in the parking lot and went inside the restaurant to order our pizza. The pizza at Irvine’s isn’t particularly good or anything, but it’s where we always went. We didn’t really have that many choices. Plus, Irvine’s is relatively adult-free.

The pizza parlor was decorated kind of like a retro diner. Red vinyl stools surrounded the counter and an old-style jukebox with neon lights dominated the back corner of the restaurant.We grabbed a booth that kept to the red vinyl theme and waited. Lucy sat next to Dan, still wearing his coat, with her shoulder pressed against his arm. She looked tiny next to him, especially with the jacket engulfing her narrow shoulders. Everyone dutifully ignored the menacing glares I periodically aimed at Dan. The waitress came and went.

“Xoe?” Lucy asked eventually. I had spaced out from the conversation, as I tend to do.

“Huh?” I replied.

“I asked what your plans are for tomorrow,” she continued. “I was thinking about hiking. We haven’t gone up the trail behind your house in a while.”

Dan looked back and forth between the two of us, as if taking in every detail.

“Oh, yeah, sounds good,” I mumbled as the waitress arrived with our pizza.

She leaned much farther over the table than was necessary, drawing attention to her low-cut red blouse, and making eyes at Dan. Had all of the girls in town gone crazy? It was the only explanation. The smell of sausage and mushrooms wafted up from the pizza and my mood brightened a little. Food was always a sure-fire way to draw me out of my doldrums.

I looked up from the pizza to see that Lucy, Al, and ironically Dan (who was too rude to be polite) were all hesitating, not wanting to be the first one to grab a piece. Etiquette be damned, I dug right in, signaling to everyone else that the awkward moment could end. I chewed the mediocre pizza. Irvine’s really wasn't the best pizza around, but I don’t refuse pizza, average or otherwise.

I devoured two pieces while Lucy and Allison daintily nibbled on their first slices. Dan had taken one bite of his and left the rest abandoned on his plate. Creepier and creepier.

After we were all apparently done eating, we sat for another excruciating hour where I was forced to witness Al and Lucy fawning over Dan the entire time. By the time we finally decided to call it a night, I'd bitten my fingernails down to little nubs. Lucy rode with Dan again with a promise to call me tomorrow.

As soon as Allison dropped me off, I rushed inside to call Lucy, then realized that she might not be home yet, considering that maybe Dan didn’t speed like a maniac as Allison did. I decided to give her an extra fifteen minutes. I sat on the loveseat in my living room, drumming my fingers on a throw pillow in my lap, then after precisely 13.5 minutes I dialed Lucy’s number, letting it ring until the machine picked up. I hung up and waited another five minutes and called again.

“Hello?” Lucy’s voice buzzed back at me.

I let out a breath of relief. “Lucy? Are you okay? I shouldn’t have let you go alone with Dan. There’s something wrong with him. He said the weirdest thing to me . . . ”

“Xoe,” she buzzed back, interrupting me, “something weird happened.”

I paused, waiting for her to continue. The dread was back full swing. I switched the phone to my other hand so I could wipe the sweat off my palm onto my jeans.

Lucy continued, “He walked me to the front door, then he leaned toward me. I thought he was going to kiss me, you know? Then I felt a sharp pain in my arm and realized . . . he
scratched
me.”

Shocked, I questioned, “What? Like took his nails and raked you?”

I heard Lucy sigh on the other end of the line. “Xoe, it’s going to sound crazy, but, well, his hand looked different . . . kind of like he had claws.”

A moment of stunned silence passed.

“Claws?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Or maybe it was just the dim lighting. I keep second guessing what I saw, but the proof is on my arm.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” I was getting angry. I hated jokes like this. I’m the most skeptical person I know, so they never worked. All anyone ever succeeded in doing was making me mad. Though that didn’t explain why my heart was caught in my throat.

“It’s not a joke Xoe,” Lucy replied, tears straining her voice.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“Stay right there Lucy, I’m coming over,” I ordered.

“No, you-ou can’t, my parents will be home any minute.” Lucy replied, hiccupping on her words. “I d-don’t know what to do,” she continued. “I’m scared Xoe. W-what if he comes back?”

I considered storming into her house anyway, but knew her parents would just send me back home. “Maybe you should call the cops and report the attack.”

“And tell them what?” Lucy asked. “That m-my date scratched me, then politely went home?” She was getting louder as she spoke, edging on hysteria.

I felt numb, and wasn't quite sure what to say. “He just . . . left?” I asked finally.

“Yeah.” She had suddenly roped in her sobs, regaining some of her composure. The fact that she had broken down at all was unnerving. Lucy never broke down. “I just stood there like a moron and watched him go.”

I sighed. “What should we do?”

“What can we do?” she replied quickly. “I can’t call the cops, I can’t do anything. I don’t understand what’s going on.” Lucy paused and I heard voices in the background. “My parents just got home, they'll want me to get off the phone . . . I have to go. Keep the phone near you okay? Just in case. I’ll come over in the morning.”

“Have your mom drive you,” I ordered.

“Okay.”

I heard the phone click as she returned it to its cradle. I sat unmoving, except for drumming my fingers on the table . . . yeah, I could already tell that sleep would not come easy tonight.

I paced back and forth across the living room. My thoughts were racing a million miles per minute. Lucy’s story should have been hard to believe, but for some reason I didn’t think she was imagining things. It explained the bad feeling I had about Dan, and all of his weird behavior . . . kind of.

I went upstairs and tried to go to bed, but it was no use. I got up and sat at my desk, turning on my computer. Once it was on I stared at it, not really knowing what I had intended to do with it. Look up cases of people scratching other people? Somehow I didn’t think I would get much useful information from a search like that. I turned the computer back off and started pacing across my room. I hated inaction. I needed something proactive to do about the Dan situation, but I couldn’t think of a thing.

I went back downstairs to the living room and turned on the TV. The volume blared and I hurried to turn it down before it woke up my mom. She had gone to bed early since she had to wake up at 6:00 am for an early hike with one of her friends. I started flipping through the channels and stopped on what looked like a relatively high-budget, black-and-white horror movie on
AMC.

A woman was running terrified through the woods. She kept looking back at whatever was chasing her, like they always do in horror movies. The camera panned back to a man in tattered clothing, presumably the woman’s pursuer. He paused on a hilltop framed by the full moon and turned into a . . .

My heart caught in my throat. It made sense, if I was willing to overlook the plausibility of it. All of Dan’s behavior: growling at Brian, cocking his head like a dog all of the time, saying he smelled me . . . scratching Lucy. Dan was a
werewolf.

I sat for a moment, stunned, then laughed at myself. A werewolf? Werewolves weren’t real. They were the stuff of myth and legend. I ruefully shook my head and switched off the TV. Sleep. Sleep was what I needed. I rose from the sofa in deep consternation, and made my way back upstairs. I plopped down on my bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe Dan just
thought
he was a werewolf. While I couldn't quite believe that he was a supernatural being, I could easily believe that he was mentally unstable.

What seemed like an eternity later, I finally dozed off. I dreamed that I was on fire, but not burning. Everything around me burned, my room, my house, and distantly I knew that my mom and my friends were burning too. I could hear their screams, but I just stood there watching the flames. A wolf howled.

Chapter Six

I
woke to knocking on my bedroom door. My t-shirt and boxers that substituted for pajamas were once again damp with sweat from my vivid dreams.

“Xoe? It’s me, Lucy . . . your mom let me in,” a timid voice called from the other side of the door.

I sprung from my bed and rushed to the door, stumbling over a book on the floor, still only half-awake. Did I mention I’m not a morning person? I opened the door to find Lucy waiting on the other side. She was dressed down in a dark brown t-shirt, even darker suede jacket, worn jeans, and hiking boots. I faced her and tried to remain calm—that is until Lucy shrugged off her jacket to bare her upper arm.

“He mutilated you!” I exclaimed, examining the scratches on her arm.

“It’s not that bad,” she replied calmly, “but look at them, do they look like the work of human fingernails to you?”

As a matter of fact, they didn’t. Four long, thin gashes marred her arm, deep enough to make me feel a little queasy at the sight. No, definitely not normal fingernails. I gingerly touched the area around the scratches. Her skin was burning hot.

I frowned. “Do you think you need stitches?”

Lucy shook her head. “I thought about it, but what would I tell the doctor?”

Good point. Lucy was trying to be calm, but her wide eyes gave her away. She was freaked. The dark circles under her eyes alluded to a sleepless night, and I didn’t blame her. I wouldn’t have been able to sleep either. I nodded and stood aside for Lucy to come into my room.

At the sound of footsteps, Lucy quickly shrugged back into her jacket. A few seconds later, my mom came around the corner from the stairway, dressed in a casual, gauzy green dress and flip-flops.

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