Nocturnal

English was definitely a bore. It couldn't get deader than this—unless I was actually dead, with no pulse or brain waves. I didn't bother looking down at my notebook—infested with 16 and 9 by now. After one more week I'd lost hope, I didn't understand what the numbers meant, and honestly, I was simply too tired to wonder what great mystery they hid.

A tingle I was beginning to familiarize myself with jolted me into awareness. Cameron had returned to class—he'd left for a bathroom break, nothing important. He sat down, my eyes tracked him. What was it with—the tingling? Whenever I felt it he was around—at first, I thought it was a coincidence. I refused to accept I felt anything because Cam was near. When I began noticing it happened every single damned time, even before—like the first day we'd met, when he'd been staring daggers my way—I learned to live with the fact that for some unholy reason... I responded to him. Like I knew when he was close by.

Why was this happening to me? Why did I have to... feel him?

He moved in his chair, sliding down, slouching—Phillip and him sat in an identical manner—my eyes were no longer on Cam as he glanced over his shoulder. I never knew when Phillip was watching me, I always knew when Cameron was, though. My body felt restless all the way before he looked away.

I let out a sigh—

"And because we can't study the entire masterpiece that is Dante's Inferno—" good grief, only a delusional man would call this book of nightmares a masterpiece. "I'm going to give you different assignments. You'll have to present them to class, so try to make an effort." Mr. Carter began writing different themes on the board—the Cantos, from I to XXXIV. "Some of you will have two Cantos to work on." Before there were one too many groans, Mr. Carter said, "No people, it's not unfair. Some Cantos are smaller than others. Plus—"

"Do we get to pair up?" Mr. Carter kept the chalk on the black surface, turning only his head—staring dead-ahead at Phillip.

"Interrupt me again, Mr. Leale, and you'll join me for detention." An eyebrow was raised in the sandy haired twin's way. "Was that all you had to say, Phillip?" Phillip took the hint, keeping his mouth shut—Mr. Carter turned back to the board. "Good," and he remained silent until all the Cantos numbers were written. "Now," he leaned on his desk looking to all of us. "Yes, it will be in pairs of two—" I saw the younger twin's head whirl in Cam's direction—but the next minute he looked like a shot down bird. "I'll be making the pairings since I've noticed quite the repeat patterns from some of you—I won't say any names, you know who I'm talking about," his brown youthful eyes fell to Phillip. "—the repetitive pattern indicates that one of you works while the other one..." our English teacher shrugged. "Kills braincells by watching paint dry—or something as interesting."

A series of mutters erupted throughout when Mr. Carter began calling out names—making the pairs. I avoided Phillip's eyes like the plague—almost like I'd be forced to talk to him if our gazes met. Since our date last week, I hadn't stopped thinking about that super-speed-thing. It rattled my every nerve. I tossed and turned when I awake thinking about it, not only that, the snippet of conversation between him and Cameron—it all seemed very freaky to me. something I should fear, something I should stay away from, right? Wrong, because there was this... calling—something I couldn't put into words. It felt familiar.

There was also the rise in temperature—I'd noticed. Every time Phillip was around it felt like a hot desert. I couldn't deny something was up with that boy. I just couldn't flat out ask him what he was—

"What are you?"

I blinked.

My eyes were on Cameron so fast I got myself dizzy. Oh my God. What was I—he—Cameron asked me that on the very first day of school. Sure at first I didn't give a damn, it was so stupid to think he knew I was more than human—but if Phillip was like me, or had some sort of ability, didn't Cameron have it? They were brothers—twins.

Oh my God, my head repeated, what if they knew what I was? Was I like them—could they give me answers—I shook my head. I was getting way too ahead of myself. But... it was the first time in forever that I found people who apparently weren't... normal.

Like me.

Could that be why I'd fainted in the hallway? Did Cameron have a magic power to knock people out? Maybe make them forget stuff—like their entire conversation? I chewed the cap of my pen—

"Cameron Leale and Nina Cortez." Stop—what?

"Excuse me?" I heard myself say, loud and clear.

When my eyes focused on everything I looked to the black board where several names were written in front of the Cantos they would be working on—sure enough, my English teacher had just finished writing my name... and Cameron's. Together. As in we were patterned up.

"Shit..." I whispered under my breath—I think Phillip managed to hear it, his shoulders shook like he was chuckling—I kicked his chair with my foot.

"Is there a problem, Ms. Cortez?" huh, let's see: Cameron hated me, I suspected he might have some weird powers—he could very well kill me and hide the body—and Mr. Carter was giving us an assignment.

Was there a problem? I'd say so.

"No," I said. "Nothing at all." On another hand, I could take this chance to be incredibly stupid and you know, maybe risk my life to know what was up with Phillip and Cameron—if there was anything going on with them or if I was just imagining things, because I was fed up with being the only weirdo.

When it rang everyone rushed out—Phillip was the first to slip out, at the same time Vanessa did. My brows scrunched. He was always leaving with her, then he'd show up in the cafeteria—sometimes she joined him, other times it was just him. Just where did they go? And what did they do?

Did they... make out? Was that what they were doing? It felt like they were sneaking around. When they were together there was no indication that they were into each other, though. Everything was really confusing.

"Do I really have to be with her?" I glanced from my bag—having just finished packing the pencil case—Cameron, me and Mr. Carter were the only people left.

Mr. Carter's expression went from impartial to sarcastic, a big smile that made me think Cameron would punch him, showed.

"Yes, Mr. Leale," he began. "Especially now that I know you don't want it to be—yes, it has to be with her."

Cam nodded with a tight lipped smile—obviously fake—turning his head between me and our teacher.

"Fantastic," he muttered under his breath. "Absolutely fantastic."

I couldn't say I was surprised Cameron asked Mr. Carter to exchange partners—he didn't like me. Which was okay 'cuz I didn't like him either—right? Right. I nodded with less conviction then I wanted—

"Watch it," I threw at him. The jackass had stopped, making me run into him—Cameron spun, facing me. "Look, it wasn't my fault that we got put together. So give me a break."

"Okay," I perked an eyebrow.

"What?" I wasn't sure I'd heard correctly.

"Okay, time-off—break time." I blinked once—twice, almost pinched myself. Was I dreaming? "We need to talk about how we're going to do this project. I always get A's at English, so I don't need a screw up now—got it?"

"Jeez, I'm good at this class, too. I'm not going to ruin your perfect score." I retorted dead-on, arms crossed. "So, how do you want to go about this project from hell?"

"Was that meant to be a pun?" considering we were working on Dante's Inferno, yeah. I nodded. He chuckled lightly, tingles shot in every inch of my skin—stop, I ordered my body. "Well, the deadline's in two weeks we have time. I can skip practice if you want to get over with it and start today—"

"No, I'm not in a hurry." Cameron's face changed from the cool kept front—it was amazing, although I saw only a tidy bit of what was behind—hope? Why would he be hopeful? "I'm not in a hurry to start," I continued—his masked slipped on faster than you could say... "We can start whenever you want to." I mumbled feeling small under his gaze.

He shrugged then, looking down the hall—back at me.

"Monday, after school," and for a heartbeat he leaned closer, lips cracking—

Dawn showed up dragging me away, thinking she was saving me from being bullied. And any other day, she would have earned a BFF ribbon. Not today—I had actually wanted to know what Cameron had been about to say. Why he looked so… wide-eyed when she pulled me from his side.

"I can't believe I got paired up with Mr. Satan himself." Dawn chewed on the last of her lettuce as I wallowed in self pity. "Feel free to stop this at any time—I'm not above pep talks." My nails beat on the table, ticking away the seconds it would take for Cameron to get from the cafeteria's line to his vacant, awaiting seat— "Where is he...?" I lifted my head in wonder.

The routine was changing. Cam departed with his food, made it halfway but stopped on a round table near the window pane—the jock table.

"Oh yeah," Dawn mumbled, stealing my fries—which was fine since I'd lost my appetite.

Sam had walked up to the jock-zone, cheerleader uniform on—her hips swayed extra right before she leaned on Cameron's side. Her hand fell on his neck—fingers ran down. Daren was right there with him—an unpleasant shiver cascaded down my spine like a bucket of cold water as he gazed my way.

I hurried to look away.

"The trainings for the opening game have already started. Cam's on football socialization-mode—happens every year when the season starts." She mused then, "Funny how he made it onto the team in our sophomore year."

Who cared about that? I cared more about my sloshing stomach contents—she was ready to bend over and whisper in his ear. Not with a regular voice either, with a tone from a sex phone line.

My lips turned down before going into a thin line—what did I care? Cam was none of my business.

"We're supposed to go start our project on Monday I hope he takes several disinfectant showers until then." I didn't want to catch whatever virus Samantha had. "That might be contagious—like rashes."

"Better hope Phillip didn't get anything last summer."

"Ew,"

"I thought he told you about his one-nighters?"

"He did," he had and I considered it too much information. "But you don't need to remind me she was one of them." It made me wonder why Phillip was interested in me—if he didn't go, like Sam so kindly said, for the delicate, quiet types? "Why didn't you stop me from going out with him, if you knew he had a rep with girls?"

"Because Phillip's not like that—not much, has his boy-crazy moments, but he's normally really sweet. Never gets involved without wanting something serious." She nudged my side. "And you never told me how that date went."

"We went to lighthouse talked—nothing big." I mumbled.

Dawn complained on how I should elaborate. I didn't. For the last of lunch Phillip didn't show up—not like he had an obligation too.

***

I wasn't even halfway to my car when Phillip sided with me, walking at the same speed.

"Hey there," he greeted softly. I gave a quick smile, looking elsewhere. "You're avoiding me." He stated, making me feel stupid because it showed.

"Nope," I didn't stop.

He made me stop. The hand latched around my wrist, it was a tender pull that had me stumbling back into his chest. Our eyes locked, I saw some regret watering up.

"You've been avoiding since Saturday—I get why, it totally sucked. I was an idiot." He continued to pile everything on his back and I wasn't stopping him because I was too dumbfounded. He'd been thinking about our date all week? Guilt welled up. The only things I'd actually thought about were things that weren't supposed to exist—like super-speed and precognitive dreams. Or the damn tingle I got whenever Cameron was near—and I should really not be thinking about Cameron, at all. "I'm so sorry, Nina. I really, truly am." The kind of sorrow surfacing in his velvet silky tone cornered me into reality—Phillip looked so honest it made my heart pound. "I… I wanted you to know me. I wanted to know you—I wanted you to have a good time, make you laugh—" I blushed. "Everything just got in the way and I couldn't… I couldn't really work with it."

"What got in the way?" I asked way too fast.

Phillip recovered some control over his emotions, trying to hide them. Like Cameron, but he wasn't as skilled as his twin. Not even close.

"Life," he murmured. "My life keeps getting in the way…" I couldn't understand what that meant—only that I wanted to know. "I want to take you somewhere special to me. Will you come?"

Blown away by the sudden request I let my mouth gap for a second. What should I say? Yes, no…? Phillip was trying here—with me. I wanted to know what the hell was up with him, the only way I'd find out was by getting closer to him. My mind was doing knots around itself.

This could be dangerous, my mind whispered, or not, I retorted—who knew if Phillip actually had abilities like me? Super-speed was impossible, every time I told myself that, I thought, so are dreams of the future—yet, I had them.

One way or another I found myself walking with him to his red on black bike.

He mounted his Ducatti holding out a hand to me.

"Come with me," he whispered. "I promise I won't disappoint you this time around."

I kept my arms crossed. Phillip had been nice from the beginning—he'd been late for our date—one hour, yes it pissed me off—he'd told me he'd gotten hold up. Okay. I was paranoid about him, though. Was he normal? Or wasn't he? Was my imagination finally crossing over to the real world, or was I seeing perfectly well?

I couldn't answer that. There was a feeling deep in my gut—a nice feeling. I didn't know what that meant. It didn't make me turn from him.

"One more chance, that's all I'm giving you." A dimple popped up. I sat behind him. "No helmets?"

He shrugged, "Don't worry, I have a hard head—just ask Cameron." I tried not to think about what that meant—implied. I just wanted to feel normal for a day—a minute. "And I drive like a pro." Was there anything he wasn't a pro at?

"For your sake that better be true. If I end up in a hospital my mom will sue your ass." He laughed—that type of laugh that made other people laugh. "So, hum... do I put my... huh..."

"Yeah, wrap your arms around me." I did so. "A little harder, or you'll slip—trust me on that." It sounded like he knew what he was talking about. My arms hugged his torso a little tighter, tight enough that I could feel the extreme sleek muscles underneath the shirt.

The bike roared to life as Phillip tossed me a last smile—one that read 'don't worry', as I breathed out, the bike took off. I swear I never rode on something as fast—now I knew why they called it a 'monster'. The air rushing around us felt like nothing—the wind came at us, we charged against it, fighting—it felt wonderful. It hit my face leaving my cheeks rosy, cold, but good. There was nothing to worry or think about but the incredible sensation of being free, of letting go of all that connected me, grounded me to reality. It was fast, unpredictable—I liked it, loved it.

Phillip stopped the bike slowly. The sense of freedom began to empty itself, leaving me. It disappointed me a bit. When I gave glanced around us my lungs stopped working. We were near a trail—already inside the forest. I hadn't explored the woods since I'd moved—the main reason was because I knew I'd get lost—but there was another one. The dream. I kept having that terrifying dream where I ran through trees as if they were curtains, only seeing shadows and hearing a voice—plus a bad feeling, something wanted to catch me. Something wanted to harm me.
In that moment I thought about running. I was alone with Phillip in a forest. And if... I looked up. The sky had one cloud here, another there, nothing that indicated thunderstorms.

I knew I was being a little too trusting, maybe naive, because of how much I trusted Phillip—it just couldn't be helped. It didn't feel wrong trusting him, just the opposite. That could be the craving of having answers, though. I couldn't be sure.

"This is the outskirts of town," he pointed out watching as I got off the bike. "School bonfires, parties are normally around here, a little deeper into the forest."

"Do you come to those parties?"

"Sometimes," the hair had wiped his wild hair back, Phillip shook it—I took a minute to straighten mine. "I'm a sucker for roasted marshmallows." I smiled. "And Kit Kats, bubblegum—I'm a sugar addict, it's a serious problem." A deep, genuine smile pulled at his lips when I let out two big fat laughs. "I always told Cam we should have been born on Halloween. That way, all I had to do was trick or treat and people would give me candy—best birthday present ever."

"When's your birthday?"

"December eighteen," he caught my hand when I tripped over a log. "Easy," he whispered holding me straight. "I brought you here so you can have good time—not so you'd skin your knees." The warm breath did wonders on my frozen cheekbones.

"Sorry, I'm a little clumsy."

"Don't let go of my hand, then." His fingers curled some more on cue, warming mine. "What else do you want to know?" I bit my lip, feeling intrusive—what I really wanted to know... it was something I didn't have the guts to ask. Maybe with some more time, with a little more proof? "I'm all yours."

I blushed recalling our moments at the gym, when he said he would have to kiss me.

Clearing my throat I followed him in toe—though, he was keeping his strides short so I would be able to match them. That was so sweet.

"Movies?"

"My favorite's Fight Club—no it's not because it has Brad Pitt in it—" I giggled, he pulled a branch aside so it wouldn't smack our faces. "It's not even the fighting, it's really about the complexity, the way the guy created another 'self' and you don't really get it until it's almost over—I think it was really cool. My guilty pleasure movie," he leaned in, whispering. "I'm opening the door to my soul here, tell anyone and I will deny it 'till the day I die—"

"Okay—I won't tell anyone."
"You better not," he gave me a teasing smirk. "Titanic." He said the word like was swallowing a whole lot of shyness.

I stopped, I couldn't help it.

"You like Titanic?" I pushed with a girly-girl smile on. Phillip rolled his eyes. "Aw, you're embarrassed."

"I told you, guilty pleasure..." I pushed his shoulder softly. He pulled us along, I noticed we were no longer following the trail— "Music: ColdPlay, Guns N' Roses, ACDC—some alternative stuff, too. I'm not big on TV shows—or TV for that matter. I like hiking, running, basketball, swimming—anything outdoorsy. I hate being cooked up for too long."

I shared a few little details about myself; it didn't seem fair that he did all the telling. When my eyes wandered around us I felt gob smacked. There wasn't a view like this in San Diego. It was a waterfall, not with rapids or anything, it was quiet enough so you could hear birds flying off or landing on branches. There were flowers in a few trees I didn't recognize—they were small, consisting of four showy petal-like bracts. In one tree they were white, in another they were pink.

I let go of Phillip's hand approaching the running stream of clear, transparent water—he soundlessly stood by me, I watched his slightly distorted reflection join mine. This place was…

"This place is wonderful." I bet tons of couples came here for picnics. It was so romantic, especially with the flowers. "So beautiful," I stood nearer to him when wind blew across the meadow.

Phillip was warm.

A smile of pure joy and maybe a little melancholy grew on his face.

"My Dad used to bring us here for hikes," by 'us' I'm guessing he meant himself and Cameron. "It was a special place for him… it… it was where he and my mother met." My heart made a sudden flip—sadness crammed his voice, but it so did fondness. It didn't take a high IQ to see how crippled Phillip still was because of their death.

My hand wrapped on his arm, turning him to me. I couldn't resist brushing a rusty strand from his forehead—more than one actually. The way he was gazing into my eyes told me he was searching for something, navigating within me—like he was trying to find the door to my soul.

Something told he couldn't.

"You didn't have to bring me here." I ran my fingers through the sandy, silk-like hair, watching as he leaned in slowly—as if he wanted to trust me, but there was something preventing him from giving in completely. "It makes you think of them—I don't want to see you sad, Phillip."

His hands brushed the sides of my face—my eyes closed as his skin hummed with warmth. It felt heavenly good.

"It's not so hard anymore… plus, I wanted to share this with someone—I never brought anyone here, Nina. No one actually comes this deep into the forest." They didn't? Just how deep were we?

Placing my hands on his shoulders, I leaned back a little. The cherry pale lips were set in a kind curvy line.

"You do know the way back, right?" I didn't feel like ending up like Hansel and Gretel—Phillip would probably love it if we found a house made of candy, I smiled in my head.

"No worries, I know this forest like the back of my hand. You're always safe with me." I bit my lip, trying to bite down the words—

"Phillip…" I cringed at myself before saying it, before ruining what we had going. "I heard Cameron say something to you… something I can't stop thinking about—" the knitting of his eyebrows went beyond any frown I'd ever seen on his face. "I just have to ask you—it's been eating me on the inside," I said so he'd understand the constant worry, fear and despair I'd been in for the last whole week. My body was shaking, this had been bothering much more than I realized. Phillip backed up, I gripped his arms. "What did he meant when he said you were putting people's lives in danger?"

That's when Phillip looked like I'd sucker punched him.