Nocturnal

Walking halls on end I nearly gave up my search for Phillip. He'd been long gone when I exited the lunch room, his trail was cold. I hadn't wanted to go back inside though, I wanted to look for him. Something in me... compelled me. Maybe I just didn't want to be around Dawn when she was looking gloomy. I knew it sounded selfish on my part, but it wasn't just the part where she was sad. It was because I felt like an intruder—I couldn't comfort her over Vanessa. I had no idea what happened to her. I just knew it had been bad, probably dingo-ate-my-baby crazy.

Huffing a long breath I turned into another—my balance ended as soon as we collided. I went down on my butt. A sharp pain shot through my spine. Damn, I winced, I hit the wall...

Phillip's backpack, along with mine, were fallen beside me. I should've watched where I was going. And that was exactly what I muttered to the other person—my mouth clamped when I saw who I ran in to.

Vanessa.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled again, dazed. I'd gone down but she was standing on top of perfection.

Her peculiar hardwood eyes shot to me. They were... shifty. Afraid?

"Don't worry. I'm fine." The words were measured, almost like she counted them. I straightened, pulling a wince as I rubbed the sore spot down my back. That was going to leave a nice print. "Are you okay?"

"Huh, I think I'll live." When it became obvious she wasn't going to help me up, I helped myself by using my assaulter-wall. "That was a hard fall..." I rubbed my head, shaking it.

Vanessa's eyes glued themselves on Phill's backpack.

"What are you doing?" her gaze made a slow crawl to me.

"I'm trying to find Phillip. He left his bag back in the cafeteria." I grabbed the stuff off the floor, hanging my own over the shoulder. When I looked up at her, she was statue-still. Gazing at me. Unease built up low in my stomach—that gaze... it scared me. At least, I had a sense that I should be scared. I cleared my throat, "You haven't... seen him around?"

Her skin seemed paler than on Monday—but that was impossible. The first time I saw her I thought she could rival Snow White's complexion. That was hard. Had she looked this paper-white in the morning? I hadn't noticed.

Vanessa gulped, not even aware she was doing it, I'd say.

"That's nice of you," she began. "Taking his bag to him. It's nice." Her eyes were skidding down from my own, tracing down my cheeks, chin, stopping on my neck. Shivering, I backed into the wall—that made her shake her head, blink her eyes, making them go from glazed to alert. "I have—I saw him back in the library." When I parted my lips to thank her—she left abruptly, avoiding me.

Okay, I had official entered freak-vill. No wonder she and Cameron had dated, they seemed like a perfect match. Strange behaviors and rude. Maybe Cam was the reason for Vanessa's behavior. I wouldn't be surprised that she became a whole new person after dating him.

I had to ask the janitor which way was the library, since I hadn't been there yet. It was a small, quaint thing. The shelves were a light brown holding up plenty of different books that were probably alphabetized and divided into genres. At the entrance, the school librarian sat behind her round desk reading a book. Her eyes lifted to acknowledge me and that was all.

Looking around I didn't see Phillip, and he was easy to see. Either twin would stand out in a crowd. I walked all over the library passing rows and rows of books—nothing. No one except the geeky guy from my bio class and a girl typing fast in a computer. Sighing, I ventured for the exit. Where was he—

"Did you see what she did?"

"She didn't do anything—it was almost."

"Almost. Do you hear yourself, Phillip? Almost." That was Cam's voice—irked, raging, whispered and... worried? Nah, I must be day-dreaming. "You're okay with her almost snacking on a defenseless person?" my face went all WTF and I got closer to the hallway where they were talking—arguing—alone.

A heavy sigh filled the empty halls.

"No, okay? I'm not alright. But what's the solution, Cam?" dead silence came between them. "I get that your feeling gu—"

"Shut up," he hissed making a strange sensation arose in the back of my neck, like the hairs were standing. "This has nothing to do with what I feel. It's about you trying to teach her something you know nothing about. Nothing." Phillip groaned like he'd heard this speech a hundred times before. "Last time I checked, we weren't like her. She's not like us. We're not the same, not even close."

"At least I'm trying to keep her from going over the edge. Beats moping and brooding."

My head spun as they threw arguments back and forth. I didn't understand what they were talking about, or who—who was the 'her'. I just knew that whenever Cameron's voice ran I felt myself get dizzier, and dizzier. It was a constant battle to keep myself standing uptight.

"You can't help her. You don't know what it feels like—we don't know. Why can't you see that you're only putting everyone in danger!" Cam's voice was followed by a large bang—like metal had been punched—I inched to the hallway and saw them.

My eyes locked on Cameron. From his face I looked at his hand—fist—and then at the huge dent on a locker next to him. The dent was big. My eyes jumped to the curled hand at his side, I swear there had been... there had been blood when I first looked at it. Now there was nothing but flawless tanned skin.

My knees buckled, my vision blurred. Weakness like I never felt before overtook me, my body—and when our eyes met from across the hall—mine and Cameron's... what traveled between us in that single second was brutal. It started in my scalp, as a tickle, it went down like an eel slithering pass my vertebra's, growing into prickling, until it exploded into a shock wave. My eyelids didn't stand a fighting chance, as they closed the last image I saw—or I thought I did—was a blur coming at me, grabbing me.

***

Voices ushered in my ears. The way they sounded was strange, like my head was wrapped in thick gauze and it muffled everything. It was a horrible feeling, like I was losing my audition. I tried moving, and failed. It felt like I was a giant cotton ball.

The surface wasn't at all the most comfortable—this wasn't my bed, I decided. My bed sunk when I sat on it, it was heaven. The place I was laying on felt thin, too thin, and right below it was a hard, solid surface.

"—she just collapsed." I heard. It was only a fragment of a phrase, all was still drowsy. I felt like I'd been sleeping for days, my muscles were so... relaxed.

Eyes trying to open, I groaned. All the lights made me feel like I was on an operating table—my thoughts flashed to one of the many episodes I'd watched from Grey's Anatomy. Was I in the hospital?

A shadow crossed my head, my vision. It made me muster up more courage to part my lids. Of all the things I expected to see—a man in scrubs standing over me, scalpel in hand, or even my mom—I saw... Cameron Leale. So not the hospital, maybe hell? Was I in hell? Because to wake up to the number one jackass on my list wasn't what I'd call happy hour.

I moved my lips. They were cracked, dry, as was my throat. What happened, I wanted to ask him despite my dislike. He was here, wherever here was, that meant something, right? It wasn't until he shifted that I saw beyond him. A set of curtains hid the world from us—kept us alone. But there were shadows being projected on them, from two different people. I could see they were speaking only didn't hear what they said.

Eyes moving in beat with my accelerated heart, I met his eyes; the ones that were staring down since I opened them, even before. Who knew? Deep in his obsidian eyes was a glitter—his pupil shone like the midnight moon. They were captivating, alluring like he was—hold up. Since when did I find this loony alluring?

I was sure he was going to say something, I saw it in his eyes, his face—for the first time I thought I saw his cool exterior melt leaving—Cam moved, I held my breath—the curtains were drawn aside. The light hit my eyes like a bitch. So much for the compassion I thought crossed his eyes. Soulless jerk, I never hated anyone, but I was starting to hate him.

"Sleeping beauty's awake." His thumb jerked to me.

Before I shot him a glare or took in my surroundings, another person—boy—jumped to the side of my bed.

"Nina," I heard clearly. Phillip had let it out as a relieved sigh, like he'd been worried sick. "Hey, how are you feeling?" fine, maybe a little shaky and way too slinky but, I felt alright. Now, it would be awesome to say it out loud. But why wouldn't I be fine...? What happened to me? "Nina?" his fingers stroked some waves to the side.

"Water... please." I croaked.

"Right away, dear." A sweet sounding voice—like chocolate—sounded from behind the two swim built boys.

I caught a glimpse of the woman. She was so small next to them, and she was wearing a white outfit... like a nurse. I blinked. Of course, I thought, the white cabinets, tiles and cot's lined up—I'm in the nurse's office. I turned my head and heard the sound of creasing paper, it came from under me—the mattress was paper-covered.

"What happened...?" I coughed slightly. All I could remember was... looking for Phillip—yeah that sounded right—

"You fainted," Phillip filled me in quickly. I would have smiled at the soft tone he was using—I didn't, simply because the person beside him was just to damn frustrating. "In the middle of the hall."

"Here you go, sugar." The old nurse was back—she was plump, in her late sixties. The hair was white caught in a bun. She had a curvy, sweet old face, like a grandma. Way nicer than the one at my old school. She had looked like a troll.

"Thanks," I rasped. I had to sit up to drink, I had to move. My arms began buffeting my weight, I placed my elbows down on the uncomfortable mattress pushing up—huff. Well, I thought sadly glancing at the white ceiling, this is embarrassing. Why couldn't my body move?

"Now, what are you standing here for? Crowding? Do something useful and help her up, Cameron." The nurse barked in a scolding manner. There wasn't any reaction.

I nearly yelped when two hands grasped my shoulders. The touch wasn't vicious, it wasn't trying to rip me in two like in the first day of school. It was...gentle. As he helped me sit, I looked at his face. His hair shadowed most of his eyes. I would have thanked anyone else, but not him.

I held the plastic cup when he backed off. It wasn't long before I drained it, the nurse took it from me while I appreciated the gift that was water.

"I'm alright," I said finally, rubbing my face willing something to resurface. I couldn't recall what happened in the... hallway. "Why did I faint?" I gazed from the nurse to Phillip, avoiding Cameron.

"Well, I can't be one hundred percent sure, but from what Phillip told me you hadn't eaten this morning. It was probably low blood sugar." That could have been a possibility if I hadn't had lunch right before... Phillip knew that. It could have been, however, from the fatigue catching up to me. I never experienced this before though, I had never fainted. I could easily do without a few hours of sleep, no biggie. There had to be something else... but what? I felt a headache coming on. "I'm going to get you another glass—this time with sugar. It will help."

Feeling grateful, I managed a faint smile. It only lasted until the nurse sauntered away with the empty cup, and the idiot broke out his horrible mouth.

"Maybe if you didn't eavesdropped on other people's conversations it wouldn't happen." Cameron's snap made me whirl my head all the way to him. The stone cold glare made me shrink into the mattress. "What were you doing following us around?" the hiss was low, something in me flipped.

I leaned forward seemingly recuperating from my temporary weakness, facing him head on. I tried to give him the deepest glare I could.

"I wasn't eavesdropping on anything. And since when is it your business what I do?" I knew there were other people in the room—two other people. Phillip and the nurse. I should shut up, quiet down at least, I didn't. Cameron set me off like a firecracker.

"It is my business, Rapunzel." He spat the God-forsaken nickname he'd been calling me all week long. I gritted my teeth, my head began pounding. All because of him. "Especially when you're listening to private talks—my private talks."

A humorless laugh escaped my throat, I didn't know how but my arms were crossed over my chest, my chin held high.

"Please," I rolled my eyes—twisting the pain in my temples, it didn't stop me, though. "I was looking for Phillip so I could give him his stuff back. Get over yourself." I spat the last words in a scoff.

Cameron's already hard-bone structure grew harder—so defined that I could see a jaw muscle jumping. A hand showed up on his broad shoulder.

"She just woke up from a blackout, calm down, will you?" Phillip shook his brother's shoulder lightly, gently—like what he was doing was the equivalent of a pat on the back.

Little by little, I watched Cam's face calm, relax—as relaxed as he was around me.

"Whatever," he bit. "I'm out of here." He shrugged his twin's hand.

My hand shot to my chest as his back turned. It was beating slower...? Or it seemed so to me. What was up with that? I couldn't keep my off his classical-leather-jacket clad back—some sort of cramp gripped me, my heart. And I didn't understand why, why this was all happening when... when Cameron stole one last glance over his shoulder. No one else saw. No one but me. It was for me. In that short flicker of his unreal eyes towards mine... I forgot everything he'd said—for a second—but then he went on his way, door closing.

What had that been about...?

"He was worried too." Phillip mumbled, arms flexing as he crossed them.

"Why are you always trying to make him seem... likable?" I found that I was comfortable with showing weakness in front of Phillip so, I rubbed my temples.

A shot of disappointment shot across his clear-blue eyes.

"He was the one who caught you if that makes it any better."

My nails carved into my palms, "It doesn't." A blood shortage must have assaulted me, my brain had to be suffering or something, because my chest heated up knowing what Cameron did.

"I wish I'd been the one to catch you, though." I smiled shyly, refusing to jolt when he tucked a hair behind my ear. "If I hadn't left my things in the lunch room you wouldn't have searched for me—you probably wouldn't be in the infirmary." Phillip's finger ran down the side of my cheek, a simple gesture that was foreign to me.

My eyelashes couldn't stop batting. My insides were all twisty and excited. It was normal they would be, no boy had ever touched me like this. That knowledge made me feel pathetic, I was glad humans didn't read minds.

"Alrighty," the school nurse popped up from nowhere. The cup was shoved between the space Phillip had been occupying. "Drink it all down, dear." Mrs. Prichett—like her tag read—smiled brightly, it dimmed when she looked to Phillip. "Where did your brother go?" Phillip gave a short shrug. Mrs. Prichett's pushy eyebrows rose. "I will never understand that boy." She sighed leaving to another room, shaking her head.

That makes two of us, I thought.

When I gazed back at the sandy-haired brother he was taking my things from the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked sitting on the edge of bed—slowly not to lose my balance.

"I'm taking you home."

"No, I don't need to go—"

"School ended about an hour ago. You've been out for a while." He came closer, about to put an arm around my waist.

I scooted to the side, away from him.

"I can walk." I wasn't just saying it because I didn't want help. I really felt like I could walk, like whatever had happened had blown away by now. "Really." I drew out giving a thankful smile.

Phillip shrugged sympathetically. He never left my side as I lowered myself off the cot, onto the floor. I was able to feel him tracing my steps as we walked to the door. My feet weren't dragging like part of me had expected, it just went to show how correct I was. Whatever took over me had left.

"Your brother has serious issues." It left my mouth. I didn't think about what I was saying, it happened and once it had, I just wanted to undo it. Phillip halted his short strides, he'd been accompanying me. His electrical eyes glinted over to me. "It's true," and I just kept making things better. "From day one he's had it out for me. He hates me for no good reason—what did I ever do to him? I don't understand how you two are related." I rushed it all out of my system, watching his expression shift at the end. A nice, big grin lit up.

"We're alike in a lot of ways, that's what we're told most of the time." Who the hell told them that? Because they had to be blind and deaf. "I'm not trying to make my brother seem likable to you. I... I guess I just want people to know him—the real him, the person I know he is. Not what he likes to project." The amber in my eyes was probably twinkling madly, like millions of stars. What he said sounded so... wishful, something he longed for desperately. "My brother is capable of being a first rate jackass, but under all that—" he opened one of the double doors for me. I gave him a short nod, ducking under his arm. "Under all that he's..." I wondered if Phill was going to say something like 'a big softy' if he did, I would faint again, because Cameron deserved an Oscar for hiding himself so well. "He's really overprotective."

My brows itched as we arrived by my rusty Toyota. It was a lovely sight. Not.

"Of you?"

"Among a ton of other things—and people. He just doesn't like showing it."

"Right, because it would kill his bad-ass rep if everyone knew he has a heart?"

Phillip's laugh was jovial, clear and true. It was one of the most beautiful melodies I ever listened to. My lips moved on their own accord, curling up—soon I was giggling.

"Ha..." he calmed down leaning on the side of my car. "I guess you won't come with me to the Lighthouse today?"

"No, I don't think so." I don't think they called my mom or Nigel telling them I fainted or else one of them would be here. Mom was still at work, so was Nigel and Henry's school wouldn't end for another hour. No one had to know what happened to me. "Did you miss your classes?"

"They weren't all that interesting—history and geography—you saved me from an hour of pure boredom."

I shook my head, "You're terrible. Is there any class you like?"

"No," he muttered with a long sigh, tipping his head back in faked despair—he chuckled along with me. "I never liked school or anything related—aside from basketball."

"Do you want to go pro?" if he played as well as Dawn bragged he could.

Light diminished from the entangling blue that were his eyes. A shadow crowded around the planes of his face, like all of a sudden he'd been told someone died.

"That would be nice." He whispered with yearn. "I don't think it will happen, though."

I nipped at my bottom lip, cocking my head.

"You don't know that." I pushed from my car, getting closer, inches from touching his chest with mine. "Dawn says you play really well and you don't seem the kind of guy that has low self esteem."

I thought I saw a beacon of hope between the muddled, stormy emotions I couldn't begin to sort through. Phillip wasn't a dark-kind of person. I looked at him and I saw light—maybe it was the color of his eyes, always so bright and vigorous. It was hard to believe someone so open-hearted could have feelings such as sadness and doubts. It shouldn't be strange, because all of us had something, something dark, something to fear.

"Sometimes things don't work out as we want them to. Sometimes..." he paused avoiding my eyes. "Sometimes we have to sacrifice what we want."

"Why?" I asked softly feeling like a well of empathy, like I could... channel what he felt.

Phillip shook his head—a smile that didn't show its usual vibrancy spread.

"Do you want me to drive you home?"

I thought about it. It didn't take me long to answer, 'cause there was the sign—never let people get too close.

"I'll be fine on my own, thanks." I reached for my bag, Phillip let it go. After diving around for the key I unlocked my door. "How are you going home?" I asked not spotting any car around us. I'm guessing no one wanted to stick around in the first days of school—or had to.

"My bike's over there." He jutted his chin all the way to the parking lot—wholly cow. That was... a really nice piece of art—for a bike. Not that I knew anything about bikes, but it was what any guy would call a sweet ride. "Like it?" I heard the smile filling his tone. "It's a Ducatti Monster." Monster? It was all curvy in red and black colors—slender edges and lines—and they called it monster? It is huge, I thought so maybe that was why.

"That's expensive." I didn't know much, but thanks to dad, I did know that a Ducatti—whatever you called it—cost a pretty penny. "You're parents must really love you. I'm stuck driving this hunk of junk." Phillip stiffened. What had I said now...? "Phillip?"

"What about tomorrow?"

"Excuse me?" suddenly his eyes were lit like the fourth of July and whatever I said or he'd thought about drained.

"Tomorrow is Saturday, no school. You'll have plenty of time to have a balanced breakfast." Huh-uh, I nodded letting him know I was following. "So," he broadened a smirk. "Do you think you'll make it to the Lighthouse? Or will I have to pick you up?"

Yup, say what you wanted about Phillip Leale, but one thing was certain—his level of self esteem broke the charts.