Chapter 3
Rain
Walking across the dew covered grass the following morning, I breathed easy. Thursday morning resembled Monday. I was aware and not as fogged. As I entered into the brush, I paused. A sense of being watched lingered in my mind as the hair on the back of my neck prickled. Gazing into the shadows of the morning woods, I narrowed my eyes, searching for the wolf. Was it here still? Was it ready to spring from the shadows to finish me off?
I wish it would hurry up and decide, I mumble and shook my head. No birds tweeted, no insect chirped. Something was here; I just couldn’t see it. Staring into the shadows wasn’t helping it make a choice. I trudge on, hoping it would attack me before I made it to the edge of the brush, but it wasn’t my luck. I’d have to suffer another day without Melody.
I wasn’t able to tell anyone about the wolf, and part of me feared it had attacked someone else and everyone would know. No one did and for a change, they were braver in asking Ethan about himself, since discovering he did have a voice; they were able to get answer’s that I’m assuming had been nagging them for the past four days. He’d taken the seat next to me with a tilt of his head. Oh, that was sweet; it was like saying hello without speaking. I hadn’t forgotten about him. If it wasn’t for his good looks and silent form, I would have not bothered to remember him at all—impossible to forget him was the obvious part of this situation. And it was fact that the seat next to me was now occupied. Amanda had shuffled her blond hair, battered her eye lashes and smiled constantly. Any other teenage boy would have stared with dreamy eyes and lingered on her perfume of over toxic roses with a goofy smile of hope.
Ethan didn’t return the smile or the lingering stare.
She was beautiful—even if I didn’t like her. Glistening blond locks that were waved perfectly past her shoulders, no pimples, no flaws to her face that was heavily covered in make up, and I wouldn’t be surprised if she was knocked up before she graduates. Ethan wasn’t interested.
“So you drive a Mercedes?” she asked with wide eyes.
“Yes,” he said shortly.
“Do you own it?”
“Yes.” Ethan didn’t elaborate.
“How?” She cocked her head to the side. “Do you have a night job?”
He tilted his head, though kept his eyes down. “Not a night job.” Four words. It was an improvement, better than one.
Her cheeks flushed—he had answered part of what she was after. “So how did you get a Mercedes?” She ran her tongue around her teeth, wetting her lips to lean closer. He wasn’t about hold her gaze, or even be swayed by her flirting; answering her politely was the best her attempts did.
“My adopted parents gave it to me for my seventeenth.”
“Er … adopted family? You mean your biological parents are dead?” She didn’t even sound sad by that assumption.
A crease touched his brow, though she may have missed it. “Yes. My real parents died when I was eight.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” She wasn’t. She couldn’t care if they were alive or not. “So your foster parents decided to buy you a Mercedes?” Click. She snapped her fingers. “Just like that.” Clearly, she liked the idea that they were rich—dead parents or not.
The contours of his lips pulled higher for a fraction. He heaved a sigh, bored with her questions. Several other students were listening, lingering on all he was saying. I couldn’t stop listening either and I was inches from him. His voice was pure, well spoken came to mind and his tone held an accent. European maybe. I’d kept myself hidden behind my curtain of hair.
“Yes.” Ethan tilted his head, making a incline of his chin. Alluring came to mind, though laced with control, trying to shut her down.
Amanda tried flirting her way into his attention. Shifting her blond hair around her face and fluttering her eyes several times, to lean even closer. She might fall of her chair if she got any closer to his desk. “Your last name. Coffer. That’s a name on the manor house on Hale Street.”
“Yes. The Coffer Manor; it’s been in the family for years.”
“You live in the Coffer Manor?” Her jaw dropped in disbelief, as did everyone else.
I blinked in surprised, knowing the Coffer Manor was the oldest house in town and it was never for sale. Ethan nodded with another secret smile, proud for making her look like a fly trap I hoped.
“I’ve always dreamed of owning a house like that …” she rattled on. “And I’ve wanted to see inside it since I was a little girl. Can I ask a really big favour?” Amanda shuffled her blond hair across her shoulders and flashed a smile of perfect white teeth, reaching her fingers towards him—that were just too far to make the touch. “Since you have the largest house in Kenneth, maybe we could hold a party this coming weekend.”
“Why?” Ethan tilted his head, keeping his arm from touching her wiggling finger. Her cheeks flushed at the lack of interest he was showing and with what he said. It didn’t sound like a question.
“Er … your house is the most interesting house in town.”
“We don’t have guest at home.” A slither of a smile played on his lips, taking her in with a deeper gaze. “Perhaps you should talk with the principal and organise your party in the hall, I’m sure we’d come along for the celebration of meeting those in town.”
“Oh.”
That was how Amanda could handle his decline.
Yeah, get it Amanda. He doesn’t want you there. You or the A-Team.
Ethan turned towards me. The shift was small, but it was large by my standards. No one made acknowledgement of me. And for him to suddenly notice I was there. That was noticeable. I quickly diverted my eyes from him and the rest of the conversation was soon fogged from my mind. It was interesting to know that Ethan didn’t like the A-Team at all or the B-team. He declined their invitations to outings, parties, or even sport events throughout the day… or so the students constantly informed everyone they passed. He was not interested in anything to do with Kenneth High or anyone in Kenneth.
I walked the path home and stooped off at the garden in hopes to see the wolf, and maybe find out if it was going to kill me, I was deeply disappointed it didn’t show up.
“Maybe you scared it off?” Is what Mel said, or my thoughts.
Maybe I had, strange I’d scare the big wolf away. It didn’t change the haze of my thoughts.
On Friday, in English class. Mr.. Jamison had assigned us a different book: Call of The Wild. I already read this ten dozen times. It was another of our special books, her favourite. We’d both held the tale well, comparing it to the different versions on screen. I retrieved my copy from my bag and settled in my seat to read the last few pages. I was a fast reader and I was already at the end, since I started it last night. I flicked the last page, releasing a sigh of the ending. With it finished, I placed it in front of me to rummage through my bag.
“Kera.”
Tuh! I jump. I wasn’t expecting someone to say my name. And oh, my. It’s him. He’s asking me something? No. Saying my name. Yes. Him, him and I glanced from my half jolted position. Resembling a frightened cat, I tilted my head peering through my curtain of hair.
“Sorry,” he murmured. He glanced to the students who’d been startled by my jump. Even Mr. Jamison was troubled; he creased his brow before turning to his book, as others also resumed their silent reading task. Ethan turned his chiselled features to me, with a soft smile. “I was wondering if I could borrow your copy of The Call of the Wild?”
I stared at my beloved copy; I was torn. No one’s ever spoken to me before or asked for anything from me. Wonder if you know I can’t speak. I narrowed my eyes, taking in his face.
He’d have to know that I didn’t speak. He’d heard the taunts; he’d even eyed the others when they said it. But he didn’t want an answer, as in words. Did he? No. He just wanted to borrow her book.
I shook my head, darting my eyes to Mr.. Jamison. Why don’t you ask the teacher? I didn’t bother mouthing the words since I refused t
o bother and I doubted they worked anyway.
“Oh, I already asked the teacher.” Ethan smiled kindly.
It was just a coincident. That’s what he thought I said. Many people have done that to me. It wasn’t hard when you’re glaring at them.
“He hasn’t any copy’s left.” Ethan’s mouth twitched with a wry smile.
Oh, why did he have to be nice to me?
“I checked the library yesterday,” he added.
Great. That bout sums up all my options.
I curled my fingers around the binding, sliding it towards me. I didn’t want to give it to him; I figure he can borrow someone else’s, I couldn’t let him have this book; it was hers. He already had her chair and her table, now this book? I imagined Melody dancing her brows at him with a famous smile. To top it off, she’d lean closer just to see if he’d keep eye contact. Ethan’s brow creased as he waited for my answer. He leant in, my breath caught as his eyes held mine. Forest green speckled with hundreds of leaves falling as one in a halo of silver. I was a moth to an open flame. With a shift of his eyes, he sighed. Sage spices and forest scents lingered to me.
“I can always ask the A-Team.” He raised a dubious brow and turned his eyes to the one person who was glaring at us.
Amanda’s beauty made all the other girls feel plain. Her cat eyes were fierce with whatever Ethan was asking me. It hadn’t occurred to me, she hadn’t heard him.
I gulped and handed him the book. He slipped it into his long fingers with ease and rested on his chair, releasing me from his stare and his aroma; earthy, rustic, and maybe wild flowers lingered on the edges. It didn’t stop the pounding in my heart or the need to breathe slowly. I peeked through my hair as he read the book with simplicity, as his long fingers delicately shifted the pages with ease. I diverted my eyes to my assignment and focused on something other than Ethan reading her book.
At lunch, Ethan didn’t sit with me. I was pleased he’d only done it for the past four days, and now I had my table to myself. I settled in for my lunch break to pass smoothly and Ethan free. I’d been peeking at Ethan throughout the day, especially since he spoke to me in class. I was starting to become infatuated with him. I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, just like the rest of the girls in the school. He wasn’t just a cute boy. The rustic appearance was well worth anytime he spent in the gym; the sculptured shape of his face was Hollywood appeal and in some ways the perfect heart throb all girls go weak at the knees, and I was turning into one of them.
It’s only because he talked to me in English that’s all, I grumbled repeatedly. If Melody was here, she’d want to know all the ins and outs of it. Better still, she’d have been right there when it happened and possibly been the one he’d spoken too. She would have blushed, I know she would have ruffled her almond hair and flashed one of her famous smiles that lit up any room, dazzling him with her hazel eyes. She’d of giggled herself senseless afterwards, and then we’d of figured out if he was worth the trouble or not. I held the idea in my head, imagining her sitting across from me, glancing around the lunch room with eager eyes.
“Oh he’s not here,” she whined. “He was just teasing us with those green eyes of his.” She’d smile smugly and settle it in her mind and mine, that he wasn’t worth it now. “Oh, but he was definitely watching you Kerr, his eyes held with yours the entire time …” She’d try and help me feel some importance to the unreal conversation they’d had, and since I knew he’d spoken to me, it was where my image became hazed.
She wasn’t here.
I couldn’t tell her about him borrowing her book, in the sense it was hers not mine. I couldn’t tell her anything. Sitting at my table, I grumbled at the memory and the need to create it. I turned my gaze to the window facing the garden when I realised the sun was gone and rain was soon to pour. This wasn’t all I noticed. Standing in the middle of the garden was Ethan. His shoulders relaxed, his eyes were locked on me, or perhaps it was the small flower bush nestled at the base of the window. A devilish smile rose on his lips, wide with a look of longing.
“What the hell is he doing?” said a student in shock.
It was my thoughts and slowly everyone turned, watching him as I was.
Ethan’s arms rose up in a slow arch of pure happiness with the smile becoming a wicked as he tilted his head high. He could pass for an angel in that moment, a handsome angel of pure creations. His fingers held up to the sky, the heavens opened. Ethan didn’t move, he turned in a deliberate circle welcoming it with a laugh as the rain soaked his clothes.
I was shocked he did it, and by the gasped students around me, it was a surprise to them.
“He’s plain nuts,” said a student.
“Yup,” said another. “Getting wet isn’t cool.”
“I gotta agree with them,” said Melody’s voice. Or was it mine?
No, I couldn’t agree with them. It was irrational, stupid may top the list, but why would he do it? Just as my question surfaced, Mr.. Jamison stormed through the backdoors, hauling him inside. Ethan showed nothing of fear; only amusement at the teacher’s display of water on his fine clothes.
“Explain yourself Mr.. Coffer.” His tone was beyond annoyed. It was the first time I’d heard him become agitated.
“It was for an assignment,” Ethan said casually.
He was completely relaxed with his soaked clothes while Mr.. Jamison rung out his sleeves and flicked at the droplets on his shoulders.
“That isn’t explaining.”
“You said we were to experience something unique so that we could associate ourselves with the characters of the book.” Mr. Jamison for a change was speechless, which allowed Ethan to continue. “And in the book, Call of the Wild. Buck bears witness to a snow storm for the first time in his life. That’s what I was doing. Though unable to find snow, I decided to bear witness to rain as it comes down.” He waved his hands to the drenched garden.
“While I appreciate the participation, I would ask that you didn’t do it at school or in the middle of your lunch hour. You will have to dry off before you can attend classes.” Jamison was unable to give him a punishment, since what Ethan said was true.
He nodded and ambled his way across the room towards my table.
Was that really worth it? I wondered.
I couldn’t stop staring at him. His six foot form wasn’t just peeking ability. It was practically visible. His clothes showed each muscular formation. His smile was somehow alive with the soaking as to his eyes, vibrant green showed in the brightness of the rain as it sheeted down outside. Taking in his wet clothes, the droplets soaked into his rustic hair, making the strands stick to his neck and forehead; darkening them with a salty look of danger. I cringed from it and leaned towards it, which was impossible, right? My mind tumbled with options to think, and the only thing that drew me from my thoughts, was the fact he’d mentioned my book. He’d read part of it at least. That wasn’t just any copy of the book; it was Mel’s book. Sliding into the seat opposite me, I glanced him over and realised he didn’t have his duffel bag.
A secret smile lingered on his face as he tilted his head to the ogling students around him.
“Now that was worth it,” he said, with a wink at me.
And it only occurred to me, I’d thought that moments ago.
I shivered at his words and that wink, dropping my gaze. It wasn’t until he leaned to the side of the table and pulled to view his bag, I spotted my beloved copy of Call of the Wild.
You better not get that wet. I hissed narrowing my eyes at him. The instant I’d thought the words, he dipped his, and relaxed in his seat with a triumphant smile on his lips.