Bab 3: 3. A cat has nine lives.
Well, satisfaction brought it back and a cat has nine lives anyway.
The room reeked of, I couldn't even describe the smell, it was that bad. It was like the odor of rotting flesh and...darkness?
Can you even smell darkness?
My hands crept on the walls, trying to find a switch. I gave up when I didn't find it and just moved forward.
The room was mostly empty with a single armchair rocking in the corner.
I froze.
Wait, rocking?
I focused my eyes on it and didn't see anything.
No armchair.
What was going on?
I turned my head to the side and I saw it again. At the edge of my peripheral vision, I could make out a wooden armchair which was actually rocking. A pale white light seemed to be illuminating the area but when I turned to look at it directly, it vanished again.
I gulped.
Stinky goblin toes! What's happening?
Before I knew it, my feet moved forward and I reached out my hand to touch the strange illuminating light, with my head turned to the side to keep an eye on it.
From someplace I heard a door shut and then Kat's voice cracked through the silence, breaking me from my reverie.
I flinched and backed away with hurried steps, my mind reeling but not being able to reach to a conclusion.
"Lyn?" Kat called out again.
"Over here," I said in a shaky voice, pulling a pack of ice from the fridge in one of the rooms that I had walked past, my cut long forgotten.
She appeared at the opening and quirked an eyebrow at me. "Are you okay?"
"Yah," I waved it away. "Just a small cut."
"Are you sure?" she asked again. "You look rather pale."
I smiled at her. "Never been better."
She narrowed her eyes at me but let it go as she grinned back. "Okay. C'mon, you can't miss another class."
I nodded and followed her, throwing a last look back at the mysterious room.
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"So I was thinking that we'll go shopping for the dance tomorrow," Kat said conversationally.
"I didn't say I was going," I answered dryly.
"Aw, it's so cute that you thought I was giving you a choice," Kat smirked.
I groaned.
"I don't even know how to dance," I protested weakly.
"You'll learn," she waved it away.
We bickered all the way to our next class where we finally had to part ways.
"Peace out," she grinned as she walked in.
"We are not in the 90s, Katherine," I smirked, ready to bolt.
"You—you—" she nearly screamed, dramatic as she is, she ran after me but unfortunately for her, I had timed my words just when her teacher arrived.
I stuck out my tongue at her as she gave me a glare and mouthed 'I'll get you", to which I winked back. I sang It's In My Blood under my breath as I made my way to class.
The hallways were nearly empty and I was running late, not that it made me speed up my stroll anyway.
Being the klutz that I was, I tripped over my own feet and nearly made out with ground, had two muscular arms not pulled me back.
"What's with you popping up everywhere and catching me?" I asked, eyebrow raised as I straightened.
His hands didn't fall off my waist as he answered, "Well, we don't want you falling for anybody else, now do we?"
"Real smooth, Silverstein," I said dryly, letting a small smile overcome my features.
"That and the fact that you can't stay away from me for long," he chucked, finally pulling away.
"Yeah, in your dreams," I retorted.
"I don't think so," he replied.
We walked side by side and I knew I was going to get detention for being late but I was feeling oddly tranquil at the moment.
"What happened to your hand?" he asked suddenly, almost instinctively grabbing it.
I froze at the cold touch of his hand.
"Just a cut," I said, shaking it off. "Why is your hand so cold?"
He immediately retracted his hand as if he was burned.
"Oh, just spent some time in the library," he answered.
He didn't think I noticed, but from then on, he always made sure to avoid any type of physical contact between us.
Cyrus and I were both handed detention, not like we didn't expect it.
As we took our seats, he suddenly said,
"You have real nice vocal cords."
I raised my brows, my lips quirking into a smile.
"I-I mean, your singing...it's awesome."
"Thanks," I drawled. "I'll remember having the nice vocal cords."
He cringed and ran a hand through his hair sheepishly, something he did when he was anxious or worried.
Aw, wasn't he cute?
He literally said that I had nice vocal cords. I deadpanned to myself.
He took out his earphones after that and plugged them in, reclining in his seat and closing his eyes.
The teacher in-charge of detention was fast asleep on his desk, snoring like his life depended upon it, so we could pretty well do whatever we wanted.
Creep.
My mind whispered as I continued to watch Cyrus. His hair would fall on his face at intervals and he would try to blow it away by his breath before he got irritated when that didn't work and just swept his hand through his mess of bronze hair. His sharp cheekbones were well defined against his skin as the golden rays of sunshine fell across his face, illuminating his features.
"Weren't you the one who told me that it was rude to stare?" his deep voice emanated and I almost jumped from my seat.
I laughed uneasily, "I'm just gazing."
His eyes didn't open but his lips quirked up.
For the first time, I noticed a silver scar running through his right eyebrow. I winced instinctively.
"What's your favorite color?" he asked, his low deep voice bringing me back to the real world.
"What?" I asked dumbly.
"Favorite color."
"Oh, grey and blue. The kind the sky gets just before it rains. Yours?"
For just a moment, it seemed like he was almost...blushing?
My eyebrows immediately piqued in interest.
"Black and white," he admitted. "I like how they are in total contrast and how pure white is and how it isn't easily tainted, even when mixed with black and instead, it brings about a better version of black."
My mouth almost fell open at the depth of his words.
Wow, I think I just found my soulmate.
"Let's play 21 questions," I decided.
"What's that?" he asked and I barely refrained from facepalming.
"Where have you been all these years?" I laughed and explained the basic rules of the game.
"Okay, you start."
"What are two things you should know how to do, but don't?" I asked, the question just popping into my mind.
"Get all the embarrassing details already, why don't you Hans?" he said dryly but then answered after a pause. "Well," his voice lowered to a ridiculous whisper, "I don't know how to swim."
I burst out laughing.
He scowled at me even as a smile threatened to break over.
"And? The second thing?"
His frown deepened as he answered, "I don't know how to make a tie."
I chuckled at his expression and said lightly, "Just come over and I'll do it for you."
Smooth, Hans. Real smooth.
He nodded and said, "I think I'll take you up on that offer for that dance." His nose wrinkled at the last word.
"You don't dance?" I asked amused.
"No." Seeing my expression, he immediately added, "I know how to dance, I just don't like it."
"Sure, sure," I hummed teasingly.
He scoffed. "What about you?"
"Oh, did I forget to tell you the best part of this game? We can't ask each other the same questions." I lied fluidly and he frowned.
"Fine. Three words that would describe yourself."
"That isn't a question," I deadpanned.
He gave me a look.
"Awesome, amazing, fantastic," I winked.
He rolled his eyes, "More like annoying, aggravating but beautiful."
In spite of myself, I blushed.
"My turn," I said, not letting myself dwell on his words. "One thing you would tell your fifteen year old self, if you could."
"Humanity can go screw themselves."
I raised my brows at his blunt reply.
"More important, truth or happiness?" he asked.
I paused for a moment, "Truth."
He pursed his lips and nodded, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips.
"What's the first thing on your bucket list?"
His confession surprised me. "Make s'mores. Including all that jazz of lit fires and sitting under millions of stars."
I smiled softly.
"Weirdest nickname."
I scrunched my nose up, "EvyBear. I don't even know why my father decided to call me that."
He grinned a boyish grin that nearly took my breath away. But before he could say anything, I shot out a question.
"If you could hear only one song for the rest of your life, what would it be?"
This time, he answered right off the bat. "Hey Jude by The Beatles."
I nodded, "I think we can be friends."
He shook his head at me.
"First kiss."
I nearly choked on that one. "Well, that escalated fast."
I let out an awkward laugh when he looked at me pointedly.
"Ugh fine. I have never been kissed." I said miserably.
This time he was the one to choke.
"What?" he asked blankly.
I groaned, "Oh, shut up. You're making me regret the friends statement already."
"No, seriously. Never?" he asked.
"No," I whined, burying my face in my hands.
He laughed, an actual hearty laugh.
"Okay, Miss Prude, it's your turn."
I wagged my finger in front of his face and stressed out, "Don't call me that."
"Whatever you say, EvyBear," he smirked.
I gasped. "I knew I shouldn't have told you that."
He winked but said nothing in return.
"What are you most afraid of?" I asked, my smile growing to a grin as I realized I would have the upper hand with his answer.
He narrowed his eyes at me but answered, "Arachibutyrophobia."
"Uh...what now?" I asked, completely dumbfounded.
"Search it up," he shrugged, not bothering to explain.
"How do I know you aren't ridiculing me?"
He sighed, "It's the fear of having peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth."
I burst into fits of laughter.
"What now?" I spluttered, still not being able to contain my chuckles.
"I'm allergic to peanut butter okay," he defended, flicking my hair to stop my laughter.
I scowled at him as I fixed my hair back into place.
Before he could play his turn, the bell rang signaling the end of the day. A small frown fell on his lips as I stood up.
"Finally," I said, more than ready to go home. "Cya tomorrow."
I waved goodbye and made my way home.
I let myself in and threw my backpack on the sofa, flopping down head first.
I flipped the remote over with my feet and pump-fisted the air in victory.
I flipped through the channels and finally found one with Men In Black playing. I swear I almost drooled watching Chris Hemsworth in a suit.
Holy blazing trouts! That guy's got abs, all right.
After watching half of the movie, I dozed off into a light slumber.
I was shaken awake by my mom wagging a cup of hot chocolate in my face. Almost immediately, I snatched the mug from her hands and inhaled the strong cocoa fragrance that enveloped my senses.
She laughed and wiped my cream-mustache off my upper lip.
"This is divine," I told her.
She winked, "I know."
"What's the occasion?" I asked.
"Oh, can't I make my hardworking daughter a hot chocolate?" she asked innocently.
I narrowed my eyes at her. "What do you want?"
"Well, Brandon and I were sort of planning on going away for a few days..."
"That's great!" I said, genuinely happy for her. "Where?"
"Oh, just a few towns over but..."
"But?"
"Could you stay at your friend's for the weekend?"
My eyes widened, "Um, I don't know, I'll have to ask her."
"Oh, don't worry about that. I already spoke to her mom and she said she would be honored."
"You spoke to her mom?" I asked.
"Yup."
"How did you even get her number?"
"You forget that Brandon works for the local police force."
I narrowed my eyes, "Then how is he allowed to take a holiday?"
"Oh, he pulled some strings and made sure they gave him a few days off."
I sighed, "Okay...I'll still have to run it by Kat though."
"You do that," she said, walking into the kitchen.
I sighed and moved upstairs, dreading the pile of homework that I had to complete.
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