Nocturnal

When Dawn sicked her eyes on Phillip—I nearly fell over laughing. She'd tackled him from behind, almost throwing him off balance for a sec.

I walked straight up to them, already hearing Dawn take a bossy attitude. Lunch hour promised entertainment.

"We have to start the project, Phillip. It's been almost a week since Mr. Carter gave it out—"

"So? We still have one more week to go—" Dawn sighed frustrated.

"You're such a slacker! I'm not lowering my B average, my parents would never get off my case, then—they'd ground me for the rest of the semester." That sounded a little overboard; then again, I hadn't met her parents.

Phillip landed eyes on me, exchanging a hearty smile, when I ordered my face muscles to respond Dawn punched his shoulder—then shook out her fist.

"Damn, what are you made of... titanium?" he rolled his shoulder in annoyance, like shrugging a mosquito bite he refused to scratch. "Focus on our problem for a minute."

"We don't have a problem—"

"Not yet, no." She agreed, getting in his face. "But we will when presentation day rolls around and we have a blank sheet of paper." Her arms crossed her chest in a defiant fashion. Phillip wasn't getting off the hook.

I giggled when he glanced at me for backup, "I think she's right. Mr. Carter doesn't like you—you shouldn't give him reasons to lower your grade or worse." Since Monday he'd threatened Phillip with a test-retake—implying he'd cheated on a quiz from a week earlier—a suspension—in case he ever found out Phillip had cheated—and he'd neared expulsion when the bell rung. "You're pretty much walking on a minefield."

Giving a jerk of his head, Phillip pressed his eyes on Dawn.

"Free period after lunch?" he groaned. "It's study hall, so, better make use of it." She mustered a smile. "Think about it this way, the sooner you're done with the assignment the sooner you get Nina all to yourself."

I blushed when he made a 'hmm' sound that completely told me he liked that idea. I brushed the little color off when we started walking to the cafeteria line.

"Excited for the game?" I heard Dawn ask.

Phillip shrugged cutting a piece of fried chicken, "Cam says their going to win without breaking a sweat—I think the other team really sucks."

I had totally forgotten about the upcoming football game—the first of the season. Not like I was too into that. But there was something... weird about it. I glanced around just to be sure I wasn't letting things slide by, being a complete space cadet and all. Nope, there were no fliers announcing Homecoming. Just the big game.

"When's Homecoming around here?" I stabbed broccoli watching Phillip go green as I ate it. I shoved a piece at him—he backed up like it was a loaded gun. I snickered, dropping it. "I haven't heard anyone talk about dates or whatever."

She lowered her voice before speaking, "There won't be any Homecoming this year—" I almost spat out chewed vegetable right there. There was always Homecoming—right? "Budget's a little short this year, so, they decided to cut it. They thought the annual Winter ball was more important."

"The what...?" I muttered.

"Annual Winter ball—it's a tradition that's been going around since the town was built. It used to be a bigger thing, all the town would gather in Haven's park, and there'd be like fireworks and stuff—people all dancing." Phillip nodded with boredom. "Now it's just another excuse for a high school dance."

"Why did it get started?"

Dawn drew a blank, "Just a dance."

When I thought that was it—hot and cold shook me. Then Cameron landed in the seat next to mine.

"It wasn't just a dance," he started—playing with the apple in his hand. "Before Haven Park became an actual park it was an old cemetery." A chill crawled up my spine. Yesterday, me and Phillip studied there. It didn't seem so cozy anymore. "The people were superstitious back then—in the eighteen century a epidemic spread in the town. The causes were unknown, people just fell ill and died." He took another bite. Phillip had an eager smile, keeping his attention on his twin—like we were gathered around a camp fire and Cam was telling spooky stories. "They dug graves and threw the victims' bodies in—they'd fill up the hole, but didn't mark the graves afraid it they did, the decease would attack the next member of the family." Great it got even creepier—yay. "People stopped getting ill when winter began," his eyes set on mine. "So, when winter rolled around people gathered on the old cemetery and dance celebrating their victory." I kept my eyes fixed on his. Was he making this up... or was it true?

"Thanks for mentioning dead-people, Cam, I'm not hungry anymore." Dawn mumbled pushing her stuff away—a hand swooped in, snatching a handful of French fries. For a minute I thought it was Zeke.

It wasn't, though. It was someone I'd seen before, and the same jacket hung on his shoulders. Black and red.

"Dude, Sam's totally bitching about you coming over here—her whining was causing internal bleeding in my ears." Derek...? No, his name wasn't that—but I knew where I'd seen him. At the Lighthouse and around school—

"Sure it wasn't in your brain?" Phillip's voice caught me off guard. It was steely, knee-deep in anger. So were his eyes.

Cameron stopped mid-bite, eyes stealing away from me—and settling on his twin and friend.

Daren—that was his name—and his hazel eyes shifted from Cameron to Phillip in a heartbeat. Not friendly, either.

"Got a problem?"

"I do. Why, what are you—" he whispered slitting his eyes.

"Phillip," Cameron warned.

He ignored it, "—going to do about it?"

Daren's teeth gritted the next words, "How about I break your face in?"

Phillip was half-way out of his seat when Cameron latched a hand to his arm. Pulling—hard.

"Leave him alone." He wasn't talking to his twin. It was for Daren—who snorted. "You're just provoking him and you know it."

"When did you become such a peace keeper? I remember the roles being reversed." He kept on teasing, just not Phillip. "Oh that's right—you can't pick a fight or you'll be benched for the rest of the season." I perked an eyebrow at Cameron's tense shoulder set. Daren was riling him up—and it was working.

Phillip shoved Cam's hand.

"You're a fucking asshole." He swore. And now both Daren and Phillip were standing, inches from exploding.

But Phillip didn't get to do more than shove him. Cameron got in their middle pushing both guys apart, glaring from Daren to Phillip and vice-versa. His chest was rising and falling fast—like he wanted to let go of whatever self-control he had and join his brother.

He looked coiled. A feral animal in a cage.

"I said," Cam's voice grew authoritative, hard. "Leave him alone."

Daren's lip drew back, smiling with hostility, "Too bad we're not in the field, Leale. You can't order me around—"

Cameron snapped—taking Daren's jacket collar. His face was cold—not distant, though—he looked... protective. "Leave him the fuck alone, before I rip you in two." He drew his... whatever Daren was to him closer, whispering something like 'get the hell out of my face'.

All the cafeteria was looking—staring, really. Somewhere along the tension-racking-moment, Vanessa had slipped into the room, sat at the table. She shared the exact look me and Dawn did. A mix of nervousness and worry.

Daren backed off, after what felt like an hour of intense glaring at the twins. Muttering a 'wuss' as he headed for the jock zone. Samantha gazed at Cameron with puzzlement. He ignored her, turning to Phillip.

"Nice hulking-up." He led his younger brother to his seat—pushing down his shoulders, so he'd stay sitting. "If I can have a little control, why can't you?"

"I hate his guts." Phillip stated it as if it was the gospel truth. "I hate that you're friends with him—"

"We're not friends."

"You hang out with the douche-bag. I call that being friends."

"He invites himself—if I ditch him he'd tell the coach, and the coach would get on my case saying I was creating a 'weak link' and how it would affect the team—"

"Whatever," Phillip blew out.

Cameron didn't sit again—my guess was that he noticed Vanessa and was ready to bolt—still, he ruffled Phillip's hair.

"We'll shoot some hoops after school." He slung his backpack over his shoulder, grabbing the apple, leaving the rest.

"Trying to buy me off?" Phillip asked.

Cameron smirked, "Can't I spend time with my little brother?"

"Don't call me—" he'd begun saying but Cam was already walking away. Phill sighed, but a smile grabbed his lips. Cameron's tactic worked, and frankly, it impressed me. "Hey, V."

Vanessa lifted her eyes from her food, tucking strands of glossy hair behind an ear.

"Hey," she spoke softly. "Are you okay...?" her concern was heartfelt. It made me almost smile.

Phillip's shoulders coiled for a minute—that's when I reached a hand under the table, finding his. His gaze drew to mine, and I held on. Phillip's eyes were open doors letting me right in—I almost broke off. I knew I was guarded, I just hoped he didn't see. Pushing past that, I smiled giving a reassuring squeeze.

"I am," attention drifted back to Vanessa. "Daren just ticks me off."

"You tick each other off—" Dawn mumbled throwing a glance at the whole table—but I was sure she just wanted to look at her BF, make sure she wasn't in pain. And surprisingly enough, she looked the most relaxed I'd ever seen her. "What's up with that, anyway? You guys have been like that since forever." Dawn had a tiny smile. One of relief.

His thumb caressed mine, "He's a dickhead. Everyone would be better off if he wasn't around." His words struck all of us—they were hateful, hurt, torn. I wondered just what had happened between them. "Are you done?" he changed lanes.

"Oh," Dawn blinked. "Yeah, I am. You wanna go work?"

He nodded reaching for his bag. With all the commotion I hadn't gotten any food in me, yet. Taking the fork I jumped when a hard set of lips touched my temple.

"If I don't see you again today I'll call." I nodded briskly feeling eyes burn holes into me—half the cheer squad glared my way.

Awesome.

"They're a vicious and predatory specie's—also very territorial and vengeful." I almost doubled over. Vanessa was still sitting across from me, eating.

Surprise after surprise kept hitting me. Most days she didn't show up for lunch—and if she did, she wouldn't hang for too long. Just the necessary; not today, though, today she sat right here, in front of me.

Talking.

Not sure how to handle the turn of events, I settled for a whispered, "What…?" because I really didn't understand what she'd meant—had she been talking about mountain lions?

She stopped eating her fried chicken, glancing up.

"Cheerleaders," those unusual rosewood eyes glimpsed shyly into mine, after sneaking a look at the jocks. Sam's boobs looked ready to jump from her cleavage and drop on Daren's lap—gross. "They're sneaky, predators—not all of them, but most." Sounded like she liked them as much as I did. "Half the squad has a crush on them." 'Them' referred to Cameron and Phillip. She snorted, "Well, half the school has a crush on them."

"That's pretty imaginable." I laughed shortly. "So… you think I should be worried by their vengeful tendency?"

Vanessa took a few seconds—I wondered if she was going to shut down, like she'd been doing since day one—then, I smiled softly. And she relaxed.

"I don't know," she gulped some soda. "Sam's always had her eye on Phillip—doesn't mean she won't turn to Cameron, though." As the 'C' word spilled from her lips, her mouth closed; emotions shifted across her face, slowly changing from halfhearted to pain.

Something snapped in me—like a dam breaking, "Did you love him?" I didn't stop to think how inconsiderate it sounded, didn't stop to wonder anything—I'd just listened to a furious need to know. It was strange, like a hot poker being shoved into my heart.

Why would I care if someone had loved him? If he had loved her? It didn't matter.

Her curly raven hairs shadowed her pale face, for a second. I could picture her getting up, leaving—angry, sad and distraught.

"No," it was a soft word, heavy in a way. She flung the hair away. "I didn't. We… we weren't like that." Not like that? Then what, were they friends with benefits? But no; if that were the case I don't think he'd affect her the way he did.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to pry—it was just… it slipped." I laid down my fork, done with food. "There just seems to be a lot of tension between you two. I was just… curious."

She shrugged lightly, "I'd be too. Don't apologize," she leaned forward. "Nina, right?" I nodded. "I've been hearing lots about you—you're Phillip's favorite lunch topic." I blushed; she smiled—a little brighter than before. "Sorry that I steal him away so often."

"Don't be," I told her earnestly. "I know what he's doing." Maybe I shouldn't have said it—because Vanessa's already pale complexion rivaled paper.

"You… know…?" she looked and sounded baffled. Yeah, I really shouldn't have said anything.

Biting my lip I hesitated; there was no point, it was already out there.

"Huh, yeah. He… hmm… told me how he's helping you—with the socializing and stuff." Her lips were ajar; I went on gingerly. "He told me what happened with you and your father…" I paused afraid she'd react badly—do something Cameron was afraid she'd do. Nothing. "I can't imagine what that must've been like for you. You're really strong." I saw a sparkle in her pupil. "I don't think I'd be able to keep it together—come back to school, act like nothing happened—it's a lot."

When I thought Vanessa would really pull a Houdini and disappear…

"That's new." I cocked my head. "Everyone knows what happened last year—they'll all said the same thing, that they're sorry for my loss, and they look at me with pity—I can even tell what they think." She shook her head sadly. "They wonder if I'm damaged, traumatized, or something." That made her angry, I saw it swimming in those exotic eyes—she had the right to feel that way.

"They walk on eggshells."

Her gaze snapped to mine, "Exactly." She breathed as if finally she'd found someone—in the whole world—who understood. "So thanks, you know… for not doing the same. 'Cause even Dawn…" she shook her head, looking to the ceiling than back at me, wincing. "I'm trying really hard to be who I was, but I don't think I can. Like I've changed, you know?" I did. No kidding that seeing something from a horror show would mess with you. "I definitely have a new regard for human life." Vanessa choked down a bitter laugh.

And we sat there talking for a little longer. I eventually shifted our conversation to a different topic; she had been partnered with Zeke and he seemed to be really serious about doing a good job. Though, Vanessa thought he lacked time. He'd been practicing extra, off school hours, and he had his part-time job at the Lighthouse. I didn't mention the time he was probably spending with Dawn—they seemed pretty cozy—I didn't want Vanessa to feel left out. Like Dawn had told me, the new kid, but not her BF.

A little while later she said she needed to get some stuff from her car and ran off to the parking lot. I hoped that was true and she wasn't having a panic attack. I decided to text Phillip—just in case—and got an 'OK' as in 'no worries' so I let my heart settle.

This was study hall time, lunch had ended a good twenty minutes ago; the last thing I felt like doing was thrust my head into a book. There was still one last class afterwards—I groaned feeling too tired.

Dropping off books I wouldn't need, I heard a familiar gruff tone from behind. Sneaking a peak, I saw Daren with some other football guys—he was muttering something about how the coach should bench Cameron. I frowned. Wasn't he a good player?

But when Daren smacked his locker, my mind was on an entirely different thing.

169.

The three digit number mocked me by standing there, looming, threatening. I'd been drawing 16's and 9's… but no, that wasn't right. It was 169.

The bag clattered to the floor. I was shaking, my hands were—sweat came forward fast and images flashed.

Colors drowned my vision—black and red—they mixed together. A crowd cheering, bright lights, tackling sounds—breaking noises, screams and... and between all those fast, faint scenes I saw a man—I couldn't make out his face, it was merged with shadows. I just saw it. Screams chilled me, my heart rate turned wild as I gripped my head in my hands, digging the nails into my scalp.

Stop, I chanted, just stop—whatever this is... I don't want it, I don't want to see it!

I didn't. It hurt—this had never happened before. I saw things yes, but only when I was asleep. So why was I seeing things now? I was wide awake—the pain thumped my temples, like the blood vessels were reaching critical point—until I gasped.

I tumbled—the metal biting into my skin—gasping. Gasping like every breath could be my last. Sweat caked the tawny hair to my forehead, cheeks, neck—it was everywhere. The veins on my head felt thick, bumpy as I laid there incapable of moving an inch.

There were sounds of mutters, gasps of 'OMG' and of 'is she okay?' somewhere I even heard the occasional 'what a freak' so it seemed the hallway had enough people.

"Christ," someone breathed right next to me. I kept my eyes closed, the pain still fresh. "Nina? Nina are you alright—what's wrong?" that was Vanessa. She hadn't had a panic attack; I seemed to be doing a pretty good job at it. "Come on, look at me… say something—"

There was a skidding sound, like someone had dropped to their knees beside me. I held my breath when tingles ran along my entire frame. I didn't need his hands to touch me to know it wasn't Phillip there.

It was Cameron.

"Did you do something to her?" an enraged feeling swam. Was he talking to me— "Nina, what's wrong?" no, he was talking to Vanessa.

Even then I tried shaking my head, telling him she wasn't to blame. I ended up making the migraine worse.

"I did nothing—she fell and… and she was screaming—I swear!" she hissed urgently.

Seeming to believe her, he grasped my cheeks, brushing hair aside. I went quiet when his arm rounded my waist, hoisting me off the ground. I moaned as my whole world spun. He kept my body braced against his, though, not giving me room to fall.

"Calm down," he whispered, a hand laid on my lower back—soft feeling, easy and more than comfortable. "Breathe. It'll be okay." The words were whispered, no one else could catch them.

As my eyes remained tightly shut, I became aware of what my face was pressed into. Cam's very own black tee shirt—I could feel his muscles, the way they tapered to his waist. That wasn't all.

He had a smell—I knew it. I had felt it before; it lulled me into an easy breathing mess, taking the edge off. I couldn't remember what the smell was; it was like my brain knew it would be too much—that if I remembered I wouldn't handle it.

Before I knew it, my feet were dragging along the floor. Cameron was taking me somewhere.

My hand fisted in his leather jacket—it was expensive, sleek and soft.

"Infirmary," he whispered and my eyes shot open. "What?" he stopped, having heard my hoarse 'no'. "I think you need to lie down." True; my legs felt as sturdy as gelatin.

"If… I…" I sucked in several breaths, heaving massively. Cameron was patient, though, never loosening his grip either. "If I go there like this… the nurse will call my mom."

"Good—maybe she can pick you up—" he kept trailing to the nurse's office, I pulled back a hand, smacking it in his shoulder—Cameron caught a step, glaring down.

"God," I breathed, "Would it kill you to do something nice for a change?" his brows furrowed.

"Sure," he mocked. "Want me to leave you right here—in the middle of the hall?" his lips sneered—and my jaw tightened.

Cameron had scooped me up, dragged me off the floor, saving me from further humiliation—he was being nice. He just didn't understand.

"Yes—no—look," I drew pointedly. "My mom can't get called here, she can't know about any of this—I've already been to the nurses' office… if she tells my mom… she'll freak, 'kay? She'll probably think I'm bulimic, a junkie, druggie—whatever. She'll just think up some kind of—"

My words darted out the door as he turned into another hallway, abruptly. Kicking a pair of double doors—it didn't take too long to see the basketball posts, the wooden bleachers. It was empty.

He walked us up to a tall level, easing me onto the seat. My eyes were glued to his face, never flattering.

"You said no nurse's office, but I figured you still needed to lie down." His hand still rested on my lower back—that was a good thing too. "Are you a junkie?"

My eyes bolted, "What—no!" the fury inside downed when I saw the traces of a smirk—he was kidding me. "Douche," I mumbled half-heartedly rubbing the sides of my head—the pain subsided somewhat. My head felt… clearer.

The outlines of the mocking smile gone, Cam leaned closer, willing me to back up some. Still, I could feel his breath on my chin.

"What happened back there?" I swallowed at the velvet, the tender edge underneath all the coldness.

"I…" I had no idea. That had never happened before. "A migraine—or just a really bad headache." I whispered hoping to convince him. Obsidian eyes scooped my face for something—

"You haven't been sleeping much, have you?" that damn make up didn't cover up a thing.

I was ready to say it was none of his business; my mouth just couldn't wait for a command—

"No," but that was all I said—fortunately I caught my tongue to make up another lie. "Reading a whole book about the nine circles of hell has its downs…" I muttered hunching myself, looking quiet.

Cameron didn't let out a chuckle. His eyes droned me silently, the atmosphere around us was thin, but not cutting, it was a mixture of doubt and attraction. I blinked at that—attraction? Maybe I should take a whole bottle of sleeping pills, before I went totally insane.

"They're just nightmares, right?" he wasn't assuring me—he was asking.

I forced a frown, "Of course they're only nightmares—dreams don't come true." Cameron gave me a look, and then smiled slyly.

"No, numbskull—I know dreams don't come true." Huff, I let out a breath. "I meant, are they the only reason why you aren't sleeping?" Oh. Now I felt like such an idiot I couldn't find the strength in me to rebel against his insult. "So," he said, when I didn't say a thing. "Vanessa was with you." I stared at him.

It was the first time I heard him speak about her. His features looked darker, more serious and guarded. This was dangerous territory, I wagered.

"We talked during lunch, then she… she went to her car to grab some stuff." I shrugged.

His hand swept a few dark bangs, "She didn't do anything?" his tone was sharp. And I recalled Vanessa's panicked voice, telling him she hadn't done a thing—that set me off.

I got in his face so quick we were breathing the exact same air. Cam inched back.

"She already told you she didn't do a thing—and what did you think she'd do? God, you are such a cold-hearted dick. Phillip told me what happened, how he's been trying to help her get back—you just dodge her like she's a leper!" I shoved him with as much strength as possible. To my surprise, he tipped—recovering just as fast. "You just leave every time she walks in the cafeteria—I bet you'd even leave the classrooms if you could." I bit angry, feeling empathy take over. "You're just a…" I breathed in a pant, watching his stunned expression melt, giving place to a daring, cold-ass mask.

Cam towered, "I'm just a what?" he hissed right in front of my face. Our eyes were smacked into a war of will.

In the moment I forgot it—forgot his mild-kindness during the last days, forgot his epic smile, forgot how the memory of it made something flutter in the deepness of my soul—forgot all of it.

I felt a need for something—a need to win, to hurt him—not for me. For Vanessa—for any other girl he might trample in the future.

"You're just a waste." I gritted each word in with an icy-touch. I had the satisfaction to see Cameron pull his face away, relax his jaw—his mask flattering—but just as I was getting my satisfaction… my stomach chimed with hurt, like it had been punched.

His hand launched for the backpack by his feet—I noticed he'd brought mine, as well—he glared deeply, seeing right through me—making me gasp.

"That must be why I'm hanging around with you. We're so alike." I saw Cam descend the stairs, mutely. I opened my mouth, no sound left.

And really what could I say? 'Sorry, that was out of line'? My brain said no, my heart... well, it kept beating fiercely like every beat was a home-run—begging me to say a single word—

Slam.

He left without glancing at me once.