Clandestine

I was laughing. I was walking alongside a group of strangers who looked like they like me. I was happy. Everyone was laughing but beneath the laughter you could hear someone calling my name.

“Cassie,” I look around but I don’t see anything.

I hear my name again, “Cassie!” It’s louder this time.

I look behind me and I see Him. He’s smiling. I try to hide from Him but suddenly I’m alone. The group of strangers I was with was now nowhere to be seen. The ground beneath me disappears and I’m falling. He’s reaching out but I don’t take it. I close my eyes and I prepare myself for the fall and then I hear Him. It was faint, almost a whisper, but I'm sure I heard Him laughing.

I gasp. I’m covered with cold sweat and my eyes are wide open. It’s been years since I had my last nightmare. Since He came into my life. I sit up and I stare at the full body mirror beside my bed. I knew I looked drained but I didn’t expect this. My usual soft strawberry blonde hair was tangled and sticking all over the place, my eye bags are bigger than usual and my usual glowing skin seemed to look gray. I look tired.

I am tired.

I squint at my reflection. The door behind me is opened and a familiar figure is leaning by the doorframe. I turn my head to look at Quinn, to acknowledge his presence. His green eyes met my blue ones. Quinn was tall and lean yet sort of muscular with brownish-blonde hair. He looked like he just woke up. But I could see that he was already dressed. He was wearing a slightly wrinkled white v-neck shirt and blue denim jeans that hung to his waist perfectly with gray chucks.

He was breathtaking.

He stares at me so I stare right back at him. He’s been staring for quite a long time now, ever since I woke up.

I know because I felt him staring.

I always have.

His eyes wander from my face to my body then to my legs. I was wearing underwear but above it was nothing more than His loose shirt. I feel his eyes return to my body and I feel myself getting embarrassed.

But I don’t move.

I breathe.

“Quinn.”

He hears me. He then closes his eyes and turns away.

“We’ll be late for school,” his voice is indifferent.

I wait a few more minutes before I stand to close the door. I have to get ready for school.

I undergo my daily morning routine; I take a bath, brush my teeth and dry my hair. I check the clock by my nightstand, it took me 20 minutes to do all that, 20 more minutes and I’ll be late for school. I walk towards my closet and grab the closest thing I could. It was a light blue collared shirt and it matched my eyes perfectly. I grabbed a fresh pair of jeans but before I could grab my backpack, I stopped to look at my reflection. The jeans I wore were giving justice to my long legs and the shirt I wore showed my curves perfectly, but He wouldn’t like this. I shimmy out of my jeans and grab a denim mini skirt instead. Ah, He’ll appreciate this for sure. I take one last look at the mirror.

Perfect.

I run down the stairs and take the seat by the counter. The seat farthest from Quinn. My mom walks out the kitchen and she hands me pancakes. My favorite. As I eat my pancakes I stare at my mom. My mom is beautiful. We share the same strawberry blonde hair but her’s is cut short while I have mine long. She has a straight edged nose while mine has a bump at the bridge. Her face is round like a pixie’s, making her look young despite being 40, mine on the other hand was long. She's patient, wise, loving, cheerful...everything I never was and never will be. My mom is the better version of me.

I hear someone clear their throat and I suddenly snap back to reality. I look at my mom apologetically and she smiles.

“Good thing you still have time for breakfast, Cass.” She says as she looks at me across the counter. She doesn’t wait for me to reply because she knows I won’t, so instead, she continues.

“Quinn told me he kept waking you up, he said you took a whole ten minutes.”

Liar.

He didn’t wake me up. What a liar. He keeps lying to mom; my mom and I hate it. I finish my pancakes and angrily stand up to leave. My mom doesn’t ask, she’ll wait for me after school to give her an explanation. She automatically takes my plate and leaves it by the sink for our maid to wash later. She leans expectantly for a kiss on the cheek and I give it to her. I grab my backpack and head to the front door. I can feel Quinn’s eyes on my back but I don’t care. I won’t look at him.

I refuse to.

The front door opens to the pathway that divides our front lawn. It was long and straight. Normally I hated this pathway; it always took me 2-3 minutes just to reach the gate. But on days like this that I appreciated it’s length. It gave me time to think.

I think about mom. It’s been 5 years since dad died. And 6 six years since I had a brother. Mom handled dad’s death well. She wasn’t a wailing widow like the others. She was composed. On the other hand, maybe she just wasn’t sad? My mom and dad were married for 15 years. It’s been in those years that I was born. I’m sixteen now so my mom had me when she was just 24. My mom was a good wife; she balanced being a mother with being an accountant. My dad however wasn’t. By the time I reached 7, mom and dad were starting to fight. They would constantly shout at each other and sometimes dad would hit mom. This continued until I reached ten.

Then one-day dad was crying.

“Mom, Dad! I’m home!” I shouted at no one as I opened the door. The house looked dark and the atmosphere was heavy. Where were they? I walk towards the living room and I see my dad. He was burying his face into his hands. He looked like he was crying.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” I didn’t approach him. I was scared. I’ve never seen my dad cry until this moment. I waited for an answer. He replied with a sob.

I ran to the kitchen hoping my mom was there. She was. She was staring at nothing. Her eyes were red and she looked tired.

“Mom, what’s happening? Why’s dad crying?” no answer.

I approach her and throw my fists at her. Normally she would get mad, but even as i punched her with force, she didn’t answer.

I was scared.

I ran back to dad hoping I was just dreaming or delusional. He was still crying. But it was then that I noticed the figure standing across dad. It was a tall figure. My brows drew together, who is this? I walked towards the figure and examined it. As I neared the figure grew clearer.

It was a boy.

The boy was tall and lean with brownish-blonde hair. He looked at me and I saw that he had green eyes. His eyes were indifferent and old. Even though he looked like he was only my age. The boy must've felt me staring because suddenly he looks at me. I started to slowly walk back; I couldn’t handle his eyes on me. As I was sure that I was far enough, I turned and ran. My immediately face met something soft. My mom was there and she blocked my escape. I looked up at her confusingly.

She smiled. Her smile looked tired and forced but it was a smile nevertheless.
“This is Quinn” she gestured to the boy; he was still looking at me.

It was intimidating.

I looked at dad and he was still sobbing. It then dawned me how strong mom was compared to dad. I looked back at mom and she continued.

“He’ll be living with us now,” I was scared. No, scared was an understatement. I was terrified. Who exactly is this Quinn? Why was dad crying?

“He’s your brother. Half that is. He’s 11, Cass, a year older than you. I want you to treat him like a normal brother okay?” mom was stroking my cheek, she was crying but smiling at the same time. Her words were strong but her eyes pleaded assurance.

I cried so much that day.

As I reached the gate I glanced at our house. It wasn’t a house. It was a mansion. A lot happened ever since that day. And my mom wouldn’t have had worked so hard for this mansion if it wasn’t for that specific moment.

I turned for the sidewalk and walked toward the bus stop where He’ll be. I’m not going to ride the bus. I never did. He’s going to pick me up. I stood beside the sign and counted.

1

2

3

4

“Cass,” Quinn was in front of me. Rather, he was inside his car with his window down and was talking to me.

“Get in, you’ll be late,” I eyed his car. This was a different car. The car I last saw him in was an Audi. Now it’s a Cadillac. I liked his new car; it was clean and looked newly polished although i didn't like how much the windows were heavily tinted. I was still mad at him, so I just looked at him.

“Come on Cass,” he used his soothing voice. He always uses that when he wants something.

I didn’t budge.

I stood rooted to ground. He saw that I wasn’t going anywhere, and then he sighed. He stretched his arm and grabbed my wrist. Damn his long limbs. He pulled my closer. Close enough for me to feel his breath.

He looked straight into my eyes, “I’m waiting Cassie,” I look at his mouth.

I comply.

I walked around his car and sat by the front seat. The drive to school was quiet and awkward. He was never really the talker. He would glance at me but that was it. He parked at his usual spot in our school’s parking lot and turned off the engine. I mumbled a thank you and grabbed the door handle but he pulled be back. He didn’t want me to leave, so I didn’t. We both stayed quiet for a few more seconds until I broke the silence.

“Quinn-“ I wasn’t able to finish because

He kissed me.

I felt his lips against mine. He kissed me passionately and hungrily.

This explains the heavily tinted windows.

He’s been biting and tugging my bottom lip for a while now. He’s becoming impatient, but I want to tease him more. I want a little revenge for lying to mom. I don’t open my mouth and then I hear him breathe something in between our kisses,

“Cassie, I need you,”

He’s so adorable.

I give him entrance and he hurriedly enters. I suddenly feel the hand that was originally on my hip slowly slip under my skirt.

I knew He would appreciate the skirt.