The Marked

After an awkward bus ride to the little cafe that sold our fave cupcakes and another longer, weird bus ride to my house, Jenna and I found ourselves sitting on my bed. She was looking at me. Speechless. Because I'd told her everything after we'd gotten here and I'd made sure Mom had already left for work, I'd balked under the insane pressure I'd been under. I told about the headaches, told about the back pain, the weird smell and about hearing thoughts. Other people's. And now I'd taken off my camisole and unhooked my bra, so that Jenna could see the tattoo.

"That's pretty big." She said for the first time in forever. "I... It's pretty ugly, too." Her nose scrunched and I glared over a shoulder.

"It's not like someone gave me a catalog to choose from, Jen. It... showed up. Like it drew itself on me or something."

"Chloe..." she asked softly. My eyes faltered. There was this uneasy look in her eyes, making me itchy. "Tattoos don't just materialize on people. That's... I don't know what it is. I just..." Jenna lost for words? Never thought I'd see this day. "You know crack is whack, right?"

"I'm not on drugs." I deadpanned, a little hurt. She must've seen the look crossing my face, she got on her knees and crawled over to where I was sitting. "What are you doing?"

Jenna reached out, tracing her fingers along the black ink. She jumped back with a yelp, eyes growing bigger than saucers. My back tickled where she'd touched me. But I didn't understand what happened.

"Oh my... That moved. The tattoo... when I touched it... It moved!" Jenna yelled in a panicky tone she only used when I forced her to watch horror flicks and blood and gore took up half the movie.

"It moved?" It was Jenna's turn to look bum-hurt because I was questioning her. I sighed, a little annoyed. "It's not like I can see it. It's on my back." I sulked.

"You didn't feel it moving?"

"I just felt a tickle." I got an idea. "Can you do it again? This time film it on your phone."

"And post it on Instagram?" she cracked a tiny shrill laugh. Okay, Jenna was trying not to faint. "Okay. Okay. Yes, I can do it. I can." Sounded like she was convincing herself, but hey, she was also reaching inside her bag and grabbing her iPhone. I couldn't expect Jenna to act like I hadn't told her some freakish facts. All things considered, she was handling it like a champ. "Okay-dokey, here I go. Touching the live tattoo. Yep, I'm doing it..." I heard her clicking on the start button and watched her inching a finger closer and closer, until another tingling sensation came from my back. "It's... doing it again, Chlo. It's moving. Your tattoo's alive. Oh. My. Effing. God."

I felt a little triumphant over the fact that she was open-mouthed. If it was actually moving Jenna couldn't say I was crazy, that I was a freak of nature—apparently—yes, but not a liar. She stopped filming, handing the phone over after I put on my bra. I sat crossed-legged beside her, watching the tattoo on my back twist itself away from Jen's fingertip. It was like a shadow dancing across my back. The little clip ended with the spiral—the one on my left shoulder blade—curling in again. Jenna hit play again, mystified.

It's a ghost-tattoo...

I rolled my eyes, snorting. A shiver rocked me, I reached for my tossed sweater, pulling it over.

"There's no such thing as a ghost-tattoo." Jenna's iPhone slipped from her hands, hitting my mattress. She turned big blue eyes on me. Eep. "I didn't do it on purpose?" I offered.

Jenna kept staring. Mouth trying to form words but whatever she wanted to say wasn't making it out. She closed her mouth a lot of times. Finally, she licked her lips.

"Chloe."

"Yes?" I asked weary.

"Are you an alien?"

"No," I answered quickly, then paused. "Well, I don't think so."

"Okay. A mutant? You know, like those from the X-men movies Caleb is obsessed with?" Again, I didn't know. I shrugged meekly. What if she's a Zombie? What if she eats brains? I'd have to go work in a morgue to get her food! Or she'd have to kill people off the street!

My eyebrows puckered, "Have you been watching iZombie again?"

Jenna jumped in surprise. Whoops. This was getting intrusive. I took a breather and pleaded with my brain to leave Jenna's thoughts alone.

"How...?" she groaned frustrated, hugging her arms with a lost expression. "I mean... Do you feel a craving that only brains can satisfy?" Jenna got really up-close and poked my face. I slapped her wrist.

"No! I'm not a Zombie, Jenna."

"Then what are you?" her frustration seemed more out of fascination than horror.

"I don't have a clue. But that's not it. I don't feel anything different when it comes to food..." Jenna stayed quiet. "I can't believe you're so calm. I'm literally reading your mind. How are you not having a breakdown or jumping out the window?"

"Oh, right now I'm wondering if I'm awake. You know, thinking about whether this is a dream or not? If this is still on my phone tomorrow I'll know it's true... Though, I'll probably watch it every morning I wake up." Jenna cleared her voice. "Rocking in a corner wouldn't help you, right? I'm your sister from another family. If you need me to wrap my head around the fact that you're some runaway science experiment, count me in."

My eyebrows squared at her.

"I'm not a runaway science experiment." I gritted through my teeth.

"Whatever you are, you're not... human." She looked me over. Straight dark hair. Mahogany eyes. Olive flushed skin. "Not only."

"Thanks for that," it came out as a mumble, but deep down, I was thankful Jenna was seeing me with all these sudden new 'upgrades' and kept sitting on my bed, like we'd been doing for as long as we'd been friends, gossiped about trends, fantasized about college and swooned about boys. Some pent up worry washed over me, making my shoulders sag. "I really am sorry for reading your... thoughts. I don't know how to control it, whatever it is. Sometimes I can hear them clearly. Other times, it's like having a hundred frequencies playing in a radio station all at once." Only the radio station was my brain.

"That explains the temple-rubbing." Jen mussed, puckering her lips. "I'm not angry. I guess. I feel bad that you have to hear people thinking. Can you imagine if you hear someone thinking nasty things about you? That would suck." Jenna. Always seeing the up-side. Not. "You said something about a... smell?"

I nodded slowly. To explain the smell I needed to share my nightmares. No matter how calm and trusting Jenna was being, I didn't think she'd be okay with her best friend dreaming about hunting and killing people off the street. I couldn't tell her. Not yet. I needed... I wasn't sure how, but I needed to figure myself out.

"I don't know what it means." Shocker. "It's this strong... scent. A salty-sweet mix. It's unlike anything I've ever smelt before. I caught wind of it when we were having lunch. Then, at Econ, the same thing happened—"

"The smell was coming from Leonard!" She hissed, eyeing me shrewdly as if daring me to say she was wrong. I stayed quiet. I hadn't really linked Leonard to the smell or hadn't wanted to. Jen wasn't giving me room to back off, so, I was forced to admit that: yes, Leonard's weird scent caused me to flip out. "So the smell's what made you go dark-side on his ass? It's a little messed up. No offense."

I agreed with her. Going off because of a smell wasn't at all normal. Then again, ghost-tattoos and reading minds? Not exactly the equivalent of normal.

"Does Wade know?"

"No. You're the first person I've told." I wasn't keen on sending out a worldwide text message. So. "I thought about telling my Mom but... In every scenario I saw her wanting to run tests on me and cutting me off from the outside world. Quarantine." My jaw muscles flexed in annoyance. "Last week, when I got sick, she was constantly playing hovering-parent. I love her, I get she's always trying to play two parents—but it gets suffocating." I rubbed a hand down my face, sighing. "And... Wade? I know he likes me. And I really like him... I just don't think our relationship is ready for the I-think-I'm-not-human talk yet."

Jenna reached for the red box with two remaining, cupcakes taking one for herself and gave me the other. Despite everything going on, my appetite wasn't gone. Just the opposite. Maybe my eating habits were changing. I did eat a lot today. I grabbed the cupcake and took a big bite, almost getting to the mild, where the gooey chocolate was. Silence stretched out while we munched on our last treats, I could still catch snippets of Jenna's thoughts. She was happy I'd turned to her for help. She was also trying very hard not to freak out and choke. I grimaced. What if telling her was a mistake? I kept going back and forth on this. I wouldn't forgive myself if telling Jen about these shitty changes ended up tearing us apart.

Jenna licked her fingers clean once she finished. She caught me eyeing the pin-board above my desk. Photos of the two of us through the years, at the beach, Disney World, with Lana and Caleb at a summer music festival from a year ago and—the most recent—of me and Wade at the retro cafe Caleb worked part-time. I was happy in all of them. Life wasn't all smiles and rainbows. I knew that. Sometimes Mom came home with red eyes and I knew she'd lost a patient. She tried hard not to bring baggage home or to get attached. It was easy to think that, it was hard to do, though. Especially when you were the one who delivered the bad news to the family. So, I knew from living with my Mother that sadness was as much a part of life as happiness. So, maybe, it was selfish of me to wonder why the hell I was going through this metamorphosis?

Why did it feel like my happiness was walking a soon-to-break wire?

"Chlo?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I'm going to head home. I've got an history paper due Wednesday. I should start cracking." Homework. Right. I had that, too. Calculus. Marvelous. "Unless you want me to stay?"

"Nah, it's fine. We never get any study done when we're together." Jenna snorted a laugh. My lips tipped into a maybe-there-smile. "You'll be fine?"

Jenna slipped off my bed, grabbing her green fury jacket off my chair. She shrugged it on.

"I'll try not to get too distracted over the fact that my best friend is basically a super-human of sorts." She said it all in one breath. Jenna shook her head. "I can't believe I just said that." I reached for her bag and handed it to her. "I'll text you when I get home. If I don't get hit by a car."

"Don't say things like that." Jenna all but stuck out her tongue. "Seriously..." I whispered. I walked her down to the door. I noticed I was biting my lip and shifting uncomfortably when she punched my shoulder. I stumbled out of surprise. "Sorry, I was just thinking—"

Jenna huffed before literally throwing her arms around my shoulders. I let out a breath I'd been holding for God knows how long. Her arms were tight around my neck and I couldn't stop myself from returning the hug, just as fiercely.

"Whatever this is... You're not alone. I'm here—even if I'm freaked out. I'm here, Chloe." She pulled back, meeting my eyes. "We'll figure this out together. Okay?"

I could feel my throat tightening. My eyes were beginning to sting. I didn't cry often. I don't think Jenna had ever seen me cry and I'd known her for most of my life. If this wasn't an indication of how much strain I'd been under lately, I don't know what was.

"Okay," I breathed shakily, forcing myself to smile and ignore the burning around and behind my eyes.

***

It was late afternoon when Wade called. I'd been burying myself under loads of Calc exercises. It hadn't been easy to leave behind nagging thoughts of Jenna and what tomorrow would bring for us. She could realize I was too much of a problem now... I wouldn't blame her. I'd gone all She-Hulk on Leonard over a smell. That's the first thing that popped into my head when Wade's caller ID lit my screen.

What if someone told him? It was a big school. But he had friends in Econ... Oh crap, of course he knew. He knew. For the second time in the same day, my heartbeat went erratic. I reached for my cellphone, pausing. My fingers curled up. I closed my eyes as the ringing went on. Wouldn't it be weirder if I didn't pick up? I had to. I wanted to. I missed him so much. But... What excuse was I going to give him? I ate olives and they give me insane temper-issues. Not to mention crazy strength. Right before it stopped, I snatched the phone and answered.

"Hi," I greeted. Hoped that didn't sound too anxious.

"Hey, babe. I thought you were going to leave me hanging." I could hear the mocking pout in his voice. Coiled muscles in my stomach let up. If Wade was teasing, his thoughts on me couldn't be too bad. "Chlo, you with me?"

"Yeah, I'm with you. Sorry, I was finishing up some Calc stuff, got a little lost there for a minute."

"Such study,"

"Indeed, superstar." I grinned at the nickname I'd dubbed him with after watching him play soccer for the first time. I'd sort of yelled it in front of the team. Now, it always made his cheeks red.

"Don't call me that." The words had no fight in them.

"Aw, are you blushing?"

"No..." he mumbled, meaning he totally was. "I still have to do mine. How long did it take you?"

"Well, I've been at it for..." I pulled the phone away to look at the screen. "About two hours? And I'm still not done." Wade groaned and I think he was on his bed because I heard bed springs squeak. He still hadn't brought up the incident. So far, so good. "Judging by the tortured grunts I'm going to say coach Jones went easy on you girls?"

I giggled at his veiled curse. Wade veered the subject.

"How was it with Jenna? Did she buy the mall?"

"She's not that bad, Wade." I defended quickly. "And no, she didn't. We ended up coming over, eating cupcakes and the rest's girl stuff." I wanted to slap myself for lying. These are necessary lies, I told myself.

"Caleb says that's code for naked pillow fights."

"Caleb's getting a pillow in the face when I see him tomorrow."

Wade laughed over the line. When he stopped I held my breath, gripping my phone closer. I wanted to call his name, but just then, he spoke.

"So," he said carefully, voice controlled. "Some guys told me you went crazy on some poor sap's ass? Something about him being in your seat?" a little disbelief rode his voice.

Here it was. Okay. I could come up with a clever cover. Here's to hoping...

"I did. But only because he said something about my ass." It helped that Wade wasn't the jealous type. Or if he was, he didn't feel the need to show it and mark me as his territory. I respected that about him.

"That's it. Who is he?" I laughed at Wade's fake anger. "No, no. This is serious, Chloe. I'll have to challenge him to a duel to defend your butt's honor." I was laughing so hard that Wade couldn't keep from joining in. My cheeks started to hurt from the huge smile and laughter. I was still chuckling, massaging my cheeks, when Wade got a grip and caught his breath with one last breathless chortle. "Nice going, shortcake. I'm proud."

Say... what?

"Really?"

"Hey, I like to know my girlfriend is capable to fend for herself." I lowered my forehead onto my open notebook with a sigh of relief. "This means you won't kick my ass if I happen to sit in your seat at the movie's this Saturday, right?"

My lips curled, "Are you asking me on a date Wade Withmore?"

"Yes, I am. And it gets better... There's a new horror movie." Hmm. Wade was saying all the right things. "Is that squeal a yes?"

"I didn't squeal!"

"Whatever," his voice was lower when he talked next, "Are you alone again?"

"Yep. What about you?"

"My Mom's downstairs trying to decide between lasagna or chicken. My Dad will be home soon—hope he doesn't forget the milk." My nose twisted. He drank gallons of the stuff. I would keep my distance... "What are you making for dinner?"

"Hmm, haven't decided yet. Maybe I'll order Chinese."

There were muffled sounds as Wade moved, shifting into a new position.

"I hate that you're alone so much. You should just come over for dinner when your Mom's at the hospital. Even my parents said so a few days ago... I'd drive you home afterwards, Chloe." Over the course of my short life, I hadn't been a bad person, but I was pretty sure I'd never done anything so amazingly good that I deserved a guy like Wade.

"I want to kiss you." I rasped closing my eyes to picture his handsome face. The emerald eyes, the sandy waves falling across his forehead in disarray. The sweet curve of his mouth against mine...

"I'm feeling hungry for Chinese all of a sudden."

I giggled, straightening, and stretched out my free arm.

"No. You're staying in your house. You still have homework to do, remember?" He groaned loudly. "I still have to finish up, too."

"I'm starting to hate Calc more and more by the minute." He said. "Hey, about Saturday? A chick's throwing a party that day." Monica. He was still getting to know people's names. "What do you want to do? Party or movie? It's your choice."

"Can I get back to you?"

"Sure. It's not like we've got to RSVP. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"You know you will."

"I know. But I like to hearing you say it. Plus, with your memory you might forget me."

"I'm bad with dates. Not facts, wise-ass."

"That's what you keep saying," I shook my head, aghast. "Seriously, though. I missed you a lot today. Can we do something after school tomorrow? I don't have practice."

I looked up, gazing at our photograph. Wade was kissing my cheek and I was smiling like a goofball. It gave me tingles in my stomach. I brushed a lock of hair behind an ear.

"I'd like that. I missed you a lot, too." I bit my lip about to say something more. I took a calming breath. I wanted to say it, but a pressure in chest didn't let me. "I'll be thinking about you." I said instead, folding myself against my chair.

"Is that right? Maybe you'll see me in your dreams, then." Pause. "I'm getting a little jealous of dream-me."

It took us five more minutes to hang up. These calls with Wade left me wishing I could teleport to wherever he was, today especially. I was used to feeling alone. Ever since I was fifteen I'd been staying home while Mom was busy working nights, no babysitter necessary. Today... No. Ever since this tattoo... it felt dangerous to be alone. I wasn't sure I wanted to know why.

Chinese delivery came, Chinese food was in my stomach. Mom called one last time. I was just washing my teeth when a dizzy spell hit me. Like a hammer hitting you up-side the head. I planted a hand on the bathroom wall, gasping. My tattoo stung with heat. I fought down an angry yell, banging my other hand on the sink. It didn't hurt. I rolled my head side-ways, breathing deeply. It's time. Go. Work. Go. Hunt.

Hunt? Work? Hunt. Work. Hunt. Hunt. You have to. Go. Leave. Work. Lifting my head, I saw cat pupils. Not again, I thought. I tried to focus on myself like I'd done in the school's bathroom, but the pull was winning me over. It just felt right. It's time. You're meant to. Go. I pushed away the words, shaking my head and gritting against the fire inside, burning and hyping my heartbeat with what could only be pure adrenaline. There was a moment when I thought it stopped. That I'd won. It was peaceful and every piece of me fit like a jigsaw puzzle.

Only when I looked at myself in the mirror again, calculating eyes with vertical pupils stared back and I couldn't or worse—didn't want—to fight for control.

"Venator,"