Chapter eight

I sit down at the island next to Vince with my breakfast of toast Monday morning. Monday’s are the worst day of the week, without a doubt.

“So, Aster, I have some news.” Vincent says, turning a page of today’s newspaper.

“Mhm?” I say with a mouthful of toast.

“I got asked to paint some houses out in Great Falls.”

“Oh?” I asked surprised. Being a painter, he doesn’t get asked to do houses out of town very often.

“Yeah. I will have to leave this Saturday and get back around Thursday afternoon.”

“Oh. Are you going?” I take a bite of my toast.

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Then I will see you next week.”

“I better go, I’m going to be late.” he puts down the paper and stands up, “You better get ready for school.”

“Yeah, yeah.” I say, dusting crumbs off of my chin.

“I’ll see you later.” he says and leave the kitchen.

“Bye.”

I finish my toast and I hear the front door open and close.

I go upstairs and shower, then get dressed. I know for a fact that  I am going to be late for school, and it isn't the first time. I am in the middle of crimping my hair when the phone rings.

I pick up the phone. I don't recognize the number on the caller I.D. so I answer it.

“Hello?”

“Aster?” It’s Gabe’s melodic voice

“Gabe? Aren’t you at school?”

“Yeah-well, I was, I was waiting by your locker waiting for you. I am in my car now.”

“You’re going to get into trouble.”

“Nope, I just left the parking lot. I am coming to pick you up, be ready.” and he hangs up.

I sigh and narrow my eyes at the phone, placing it back on its charger.

I finish my hair and after I am done putting on my face, I go down stairs to wait for Gabe.

When the mustang appears in front of my house, I put on my leather boots and a grey leather jacket. With my bag over my shoulder, I leave the house and lock the door.

Gabe get out the car and rushes over to open the door for me.

“Thanks.” I say, getting in.

He nods his head and gets back into the drivers seat.

“You look nice today.” he tells me, his eyes focused on the snow covered road in front of us.

“Thank you.”

His eyes go wide and he looks at me, “Not that you don't look good everyday.” he says quickly.

I bat my eyes at him, “It’s okay, Gabe.” I smile, “Are you planning on going to school anytime soon?”

He laughs a little under his breath and nods.

He drives to the end of the block and he turns on the radio.

Imminently, one of my favorite songs comes on.

Gabe looks at me when we are stopped at a red light, a smile on his face.

I was looking forward, but I turn to face him and my head bobbing stops.

“What?” I ask.

“I didn’t know you could sing.” he tells me.

“I didn’t know I was.” I am a huge fan of all music, but I never sing.

“Well, don't stop just because I said something.” he tells me, the light turning green.

I blush and shy away from his quick glace.

We reach school too quickly, I would have liked to stay with Gabe in his car all day, but, we have classes.

“What do you have?” Gabe asks me when I get to my locker.

“We have math.” I turn to him, blindly reaching to the top of my locker for a textbook.

“Here.” he reaches up and grabs it for me.

“My hero.” I giggle, taking the math textbook from him.

He bows his head , “Anything for you, your Majesty.”

I playfully punch him in the arm and we go to his locker, then to class.

When we enter the class, Mr.Robinson looks at us, and says, “Miss.Young, Mr.Casmaric, how nice of you to join us.” everyone-who wasn’t looking at us, turns and looks.

“No problemo, sir.” Gabe says nonchalantly and we take our seats at the back of the class, with every one's eyes on us.

A few minuets later, the class settles but Mary-Lynn turns around to face us.

“I’m making my move today, Weed.” she taunts, Gabe is talking quietly with the boys across the isle, so Mary-Lynn knew that Gabe isn’t listening to our conversation.

“You can try.” I tell her, mockingly.

“What are you saying, Weed?” she snaps.

“I’m saying that you can’t have him, because he is mine.” I lean forwards, getting closer to her face, showing her that I am not afraid of her.

She throws her head back and cackles, “Really, Weed?” she wipes an invisible tear from the corner of her eye.

“Yes, really.” Gabe must have turned to face us sometime when neither of us had be paying any attention.

Mary just look startled. It could have been the fact that Gabe had heard (she always puts on her ‘pretty’ face around guys-all guys- and never shows them this side of her), or that Gabe admitted that he is mine.

I glare at her, and take Gabe’s hand.

“How can somebody like you be with something like,” her attention is on Gabe as she paused, and I’m sure-out of the three of us- I am not the only one who noticed that half of the classes eyes are focused on the commotion at the back of the class, “her?”

Gabe straightens his back, tightening his rigid muscles along his shoulders. Silver flecks dance in his grey irises and he secures his grip on my hand. The anger that causes his body to tense is the same anger that causes me to snap at her.

“Why do you have to be such a b***h?” I raise my voice and stand up. The chair legs scream against the polished floor and Gabe’s hand falls beside him.

“Aster...” Gabe says quietly.

Mary-Lynn cackles again, “So, the weed does have a backbone!”

“Shut-up! Just that your God damn mouth!” I yell at her. She has risen to her feet too, “You are such a b***h! All you have ever done is taken things away that matter to me! Not this time.” I walk half way to the door and then continue, “Not this time, you selfish b***h!”

“Miss. Young!” Mr.Robinson exclaims, exasperated.

I quickly glance at him, and Gabe who is walking towards me, steals it.

I look behind him and Mary-Lynn has a stupid look of surprise plastered on her face, but her eyes are full of anger and enjoyment, which makes the rage inside of me, boil over.

“Go to hell, Mary, just go to hell.” I rush out of the classroom and I hear footsteps behind me.

“Aster, wait.” Gabe says, his step picking up to match my speed.

Tears form in the corner of my eyes and I follow as many hallways as I can to get away from the math room. I break out in a sprint.

Gabe is going to be faster than me, and in no time at all, he is within three feet of me.

“Aster, you know that I am just going to follow you, so just slow down and let me talk to you.”

I sob and slow down. I have ended up on the opposite side of the school and it is a dead end. I reach the end of this hallway and sit in the corner, next to the fire exit and a wall.

I look at Gabe and he kneels down beside me.

I bring my knees up to my chest and rest my head on them, “I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Do you remember that promise I made to you?” he puts a hand on my head.

“Yes.” I mumble.

“And I will keep that promise, and not even she can make me break it.” I don’t say anything, so he continues, “You are beautiful, Aster, beautiful like the flower. She isn’t. Other guys might think so, but other guys don't know the real her. That was the real her, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then, they’ll be in for a surprise. Meanwhile, I wont be unless you decide to die your hair blond and wear pink.”

I laugh a little, “I guess you’re right.” I look up at him.

He smiles quickly and pulls out his phone, “There is only a few more minuets until third period,” we must have missed the first one because math was second, “do you wanna go out somewhere and do something?”

A chance to skip school? I would never pass up a chance like that. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Then lets go.” he stands up and holds out a hand to help me up.

We walk hand in hand to his locker and then to mine to get our jackets and bags.

“Where do you want to go?” Gabe asks me quietly, as to not disturb the classes that are session.

“Do you want to go the mall, or something?” I ask him as we pass in front of the office undetected.

“Sure. We can catch a movie or something.”

I wrap my arm around his, and pull him closer to me, “I’d like that.”

He grins and we exit the school and a gust of cold February air welcomes us. We take the same route as we did before to get to his car.

His car still smells the same as it did this morning- new leather and Gabe- but there is something floral in the confined space.

We buckle our seat belts are he sniffs the air, and smiles, “You smell good.” So that’s where the flowery smell came from.

I blush and as he starts the ignition, the radio turns on.

I assume Gabe knows this song because he begins to hum to the words, and his fingers tap to the beat on the steering wheel.

We are on the main road when he sings allong with the radio, “Leave the bourbon on the self. And I.ll drink it by myself. I love you endlessly, darlin’ don't you see, I’m not satisfied, until I hold you tight.”

His singing voice is even more melodic than his regular voice.

“Jen-if-er, tell me where I stand. Who is that boy, holding your hand. Oh, Jen-if-er, you know I’ll always try, until you say good-bye, leave the bourbon on the self,”

“Oh, Gabe.” I whisper, afraid to interrupt him.

He turns and smiles at me, and quickly looks back at the road.

Gabe sings until the song ends and he presses buttons on the dashboard until a different station is playing a song I’ve never heard of.

Gabe isn’t singing this one, which saddens me, but being with him, makes me just as happy.

We are stopped at a red light when I talk, so I’m sure that I have all of his attention, “Vincent is going to be out of town on Sunday and is coming back on Thursday.”

“Oh?” he raises an eyebrow.

“Yes.” I let the ‘s’ linger, then hint, “I’ll need a babysitter.”  

He smiles at me the way I am smiling at him-fierce and hungry-when he muses, “I might have someone who could do that.”

“Do I know him?”

“I think you might know him fairly well.” he looks away from me and to the road, where traffic is moving again.

I relax against the seat and grab onto his thigh, affectionately. Repose muscles become tense under my hand.

“Damn, Aster, if you don't let go, we are going to end up in a hospital bed.” the smile on his face tells me that he is teasing.

“In a bed together?” I quip.

“Oh, baby, I wish.” he takes his right hand off the wheel and covers my hand with it.

We are blessed with green lights the rest of the way to the mall, which is packed, despite it being a not-so-lousy Monday.

“Jeeze!” I am shoved to the right, where Gabe is, by a big Italian looking man with a backpack.

“You okay?” Gabe asks, steadying me.

“Yeah. Some people...” I scoff.

“I’d say.”

We avoid most of the other people in the mall, until we get to the food court, which is filled to the brim will people. It is impossible to get anywhere without touching a stranger, never mind finding a clean and empty table.

Gabe puts me in front of him, as to get through the crowds easier, and places both hands on my shoulders to guide me.

“Over there.” he puts his mouth to my ear, and I barely hear him. He points up ahead and to the left.

“Okay.” I say, but I’m not sure he even heard me.

With Gabe on my heels, I make quick work of getting to the table before somebody else does.

“What a crowd.” Gabe observes with a huff as he sits down in front of me.

I could hear him fine over here, where it is less crowded, but the people are quieter, thank goodness.

“Yeah. I can watch the table if you wanna go get your lunch first.”

“Sure. What do you want on your sub?”

“My what?”

“Your sub. Your submarine.”

“Oh-the sandwich!”

“Yeah. What do you want on it?”

“No, no. I am going to buy it.”

“Well then, give me five bucks and I’ll go get it for you. Tell me what you want on it.”

“Um, Swiss cheese, lettuce, red peppers, and pickles.” I reach into my bag beside me and fish out my wallet.

“You want bread with that?”

I give Gabe a skeptical look, “Whole wheat.”

“And what type of meat?”

“Ham. And here.” I hand him a bill.

He brings the bill up to his nose and sniffs it, over exaggerating, “I’ll be back in a few.”

As soon as Gabe disappears in the sea of people, I put my wallet away and slouch down in the seat.

“You utter fool.” I tell myself and shake my head.

The line at the sub shop must not have been very long because it had only been five minutes or so before Gabe comes back holding a tray.

“This is for you,” he says when he reaches the table and hands me a twelve inch sub and a medium drink.

“Yum. Thank you.” my stomach grumbles at the sent of the sandwich.

He sits down and unwraps his sub-as I do the same- take a bite and makes a sound of acknowledgement, “This is yours, too.” he reaches inside of a pocket in his jeans and hands me the five bucks.

“Gabe, why did you do that?” I didn’t want to buy me lunch because I thought that I would have been imposing, but inside, I felt happy and giddy that Gabe bought it for me.

He shrugs and nonchalantly divulges, “I was trying to be a gentleman, but you didn’t like that, so I decided to play gentleman the hard way.”

I chew and swallow the bite I had taken from the sandwich that would do Vincent proud, “I like gentlemen, I just don't like taking their money.”

“It’s not taking money they offer.” he takes a bite as I finish chewing.

“You win.” I admit, discouraged.

“I always do.”

I only ate half of my submarine (Gabe ate all of his and my leftover half is in my bag), regardless of how hungry I was, besides, I need room for popcorn.

“What movie do you want to see?” Gabe inquires over the sound of the theater’s loud looped music.

“Pick one.” I urge him.

“Battle: L.A?”

“Sure. You get the tickets, and I’ll buy the popcorn.”

“I’ll meet you,” he pauses, looking around the large oval-shaped room, “somewhere.”

“Alright.” I depart from his side and go stand in the line for the snacks.

Originally, we came into the cinema holding our drinks from the food court, but we were told to throw them out or finish them. I would imagine that if the staff here figured out that I have half of a sub in my bag, they’d make me throw it out, but what they don't know, can’t hurt them.

“Hello, miss. What would you like?” says the red-headed teenage boy with freckles and thick framed glasses.

“Hi. Can I get a large iced-tea, a medium popcorn, and licorice whips, please.” I tap my wallet -that I had gotten out when I was standing with Gabe- on the counter, and see that the the cashier, whose name is Carl L. is staring at my chest. I abruptly cover my chest and fume,“Excuse me?”

“Uh. Uh, I'm sorry.” Carl L. apologizes, but his gaze is at my chest almost instantaneously.

“Hey!” I bark.

“C’mon! Whats the hold up?” shouts a man behind me.

“She hasn’t gotten her stuff yet because the cashier is a creep-o.” states a little girl, also behind me, but must have seen what Carl is doing.

“Sweetie, that's not polite.” says her mother

He scowls at the girl, then turns to me and says, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Christ All-mighty.” says the man behind me.

“Carl! Take the lady’s order!” hisses a co-worker, popping popcorn.

“I said I wanted a medium popcorn, a large iced-tea and licorice whips.”

“That will thirteen fifty. Do you want butter on your popcorn?”

“No, thank you.” I hand him thirteen dollars and fifty cents.

He nods jerkily, puts a cup under the soda fountain, presses a button and takes off.

I turn to look for Gabe, but don't see him at the ticket stand. On the counter, a popcorn, drink and a package of red vines stand alone. With no sign of Carl L, I gather my purchase and head to where the napkins are.

“Hey, babe.” Gabe greets when he sees me get to the napkin counter.

I beam, “Hey. You got the tickets?”

In his hand, he holds two newly printed movie tickets, “And you got the popcorn?”

I shake the bag in my hand, being careful not to drop the licorice under my arm.

“Let me take something.” he says, reaching for the licorice and the drink.

“Thanks.” I say, letting him take what he wants to carry.

He shrugs and says, referring to the iced-tea,  “You know, you didn’t have to buy this.”

“Popcorn makes my mouth dry.” I give him a relaxed expression.

“Makes sense. The movie starts in about seven minutes.You wanna go now?”

“Yeah.” I say and I snag a few napkins from their dispenser before following Gabe to the theater.

* * *

Hand in hand, we leave the theater and we are walking through the less-thick haze of people to get to the nearest exit.

“That movie was okay.” Gabe says, sullenly.

“I didn’t like it. I thought the aliens could have been more realistic.” I state.

“And the fact that aliens coming to earth to take over our world is ridiculous.”

“So are aliens in general.”

Gabe stops in his tracks, “You don’t believe in an unnatural force such as aliens?”

“Aliens don’t exist, Gabe. And the only unnatural force humans have to deal with are ghosts.”

He walks and talks, “You don’t believe in extra-terrestrials but you believe in ghosts?”

“Because ghosts exist.” a little quieter, I add, “They give me hope.” I stare at the pattern on the floor.

I’m surprised when Gabe asks, “Gives you hope for what?”

“My parents.”

“Oh.” he pulls me closer to him. I’m not sure if he realizes that we have an audience or not, but I don't pull away when he kisses me.

“Mmm.” he says as he bends his neck to nuzzle my neck.

“Gabe, people are watching.” I say under heavy breaths.

“Let them.” hot, moist air hits my neck and I lean into him.

“Gabe, as much as I would love to do this, we can’t do it here.”

He leaves my neck, and I am left cold.

He clears his throat, “What time is it?”

“Time for us to go to my place.” I flirt.

“My favorite time on the day.”

“Mine too.”

“Then let us go.”

It must have snowed when we were inside because the snow that crunches under our footsteps is soft and fluffy.

“Gosh, this weather sucks.” I say, kicking the fresh snow, causing it to float upward and get blown into cars by the wind.

“I’d say. I wish spring was here.”

“Me too. Where’d you park?”

“Over there.” he points and we walk to it.

When we get in the car, Gabe asks me, “Will Vincent get mad at you for skipping?"

"Somebody probably told him about what happened, but I don't think so. What about your family?"

“Nope, well, I don't think so.” he pauses, “At least I hope not.”

I giggle, “We should probably get going before Vince gets home, if we want the house to ourselves.”

“I don’t know about you, but I would like that.”

“Me too.”

He starts and revs the engine.

“You buckled?” he asks me.

“I always am.”

“That’s good.” and he takes leaves the mall parking lot.

I don’t think that the drive home could have taken any longer; we hit every red light and the traffic was terrible. I am surprised when we get home that Vince’s blue Ford fiesta isn’t parked in the drive way.

“You want anything to drink?” I ask when we get into the house.

“Um,” he slugs off his bag and slips off his shoes, “I’m good. Thanks anyway.”

I take my shoes off, “Don’t thank me yet.” I wink.

“Mm, I like the sound of that.” he rushes at me and I squeal and run into the den.

“Meet you upstairs!” I evade his when he goes to grab my waist and bolt upstairs.

I hear his quick footsteps behind me. I almost make it to the doorway of my room before firm hands grab my waist and lift me up.

“Gabe!” I wail.

“Shh,” he hoists me over his shoulder, holding me like a sack of potatoes.

We-well, he- walks into my room and drops me on top of my unmade bed.

He crawls on top me, grinning uncontrollably, just as I am.

He leans in an kisses me genuinely. I claw at his back and he runs a hand gently along my thigh and holds my waist.

He kisses me more and nuzzles my neck. He growls and nips my tender flesh and instantly sent tingles through my body and down to my toes.

“Gabe stop.” I tell him as I hear a noise downstairs.

“What is it?” he looks up and looks at the door.

“There is something downstairs.”

He gets up from the bed and quickly walks towards the doorway, “Aster, stay here.”

“I’m coming with you, Gabe.” I stride over to him.

He lets out a frustrated sigh, and states before heading for the stairs, “Fine, just stay behind me.”

I nod, then realize he can’t see me, “Okay Gabe.”

We reach the first stair and Gabe’s voice booms, “Who’s there?”

We hear a crash and Gabe runs down the stairs with lightening speed, with me close behind.

Another crash, louder this time.

Gabe turns to go into the den.

“In the kitchen.” I whisper.

His head whips around and he stalks into the kitchen.

I’m sure he saw it too, a solid black object that dashed to the back door.

“Damn, look at this.” he says, under rigid breathes.

The kitchen, which was in order when we got home, is a complete wreck; most of the drawers that held tea towels and silverware and such are pulled out of their spots and thrown across the kitchen, as if someone was looking for something.

Would have had a hard time too, because we keep nothing of value in the kitchen.

As if the silverware and other cooking supplies isn’t enough of a mess to clean up, the carton of eggs that were in the fridge along with the milk and orange juice form messy puddles underneath their containers.

“What the hell?” I say and take a step forward.

Gabe places a hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently.

“S**t, Gabe. Vincent isn’t going to be happy.”

“Well then we better start cleaning. Where do you keep the towels?”

“Go to the bathroom down here are there should be a few under the sink.”

“Okay.” as Gabe leaves my side to get the towels, I notice a piece of paper on the floor by the orange juice.

I walk over to it, carefully avoiding the forks and the puddle of milk, and pick it up.

The note has a single word written on it in capital letters in the middle of the page:

MINE

“Whats that?” Gabe asks from behind me.

“A note someone left here. Its not Vincent’s writing.” we exchange items, the note for the towels.

I bend down and start mopping up the orange juice and milk, conveniently close together.

“Mine?” Gabe asks.

“Yeah. I don't get it though.” I stand up with a huff, “I am assuming that the person who trashed the kitchen is the same person who wrote the note.”

“Do you know anybody who hates you or your brother?”

“No one that I know of. Vincent is a pretty friendly guy and nobody hates him. And Mary-Lynn hates me, but she doesn’t know where I live.”

“Hm.” Gabe surveys the kitchen again.

“How’d they get in the house? The backdoor is always locked.”

“And the front door is in the same condition as it is when we got here.”

“God, I don’t know. Lets get everything cleaned up so we can see how bad the damage is.”

“Good plan.” he agrees.

I finish mopping up the liquids as Gabe picks up the forks and other silverware in the kitchen.

“Are you going to tell Vincent about this?”

“I have to. Somehow making you and I breakfast in the middle of the afternoon isn’t a good reason for all the eggs, orange juice, and milk being gone.”

“Hm, good point.”

Once the kitchen is relatively clean, Gabe and I saunter over to the back door.

We step outside onto the snow-cleared back porch and look at the long scratches indented in the wooden door. The claw marks start about my head height and go down to my knees, tapering at each end, and the thickest point being at least an inch and a half thick.

“Damn...” Gabe’s whisper is barely audible

“I’d say. What could have done this?” I run my fingers over the marks.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

I wrap my arms around myself, still taking in the massive indents.

“There are no tracks in the snow.” Gabe wraps his arms around my waist.

I don't know what to say, so we carry out the rest of the conversation in silence.

“Gabe?” I ask him after a while

“Yes, Aster?”

“Do you think it will happen again?”

He sighs, and rests his chin on my head, “I’m really not sure, but I hope to God it doesn’t. I don't know how much worse it can get, and this is pretty bad.”

“Yeah. Do you want to go inside? I can make us some hot chocolate, if you want.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” he lets go of my waist and instead, takes my hand as I lead him inside.

Once he takes a seat on one of the couches in the den, I go to the kitchen and put the kettle on for the cocoa.

I get the cocoa powder from one of the cupboards along with two navy mugs.

I walk quietly into the den and sit next to Gabe. He softly places an arm around my shoulders then pulls me close to him.

“I don't want you to get hurt, Aster.” I can feel his chest rise and fall rhythmically against my back.

“What makes you think that I’m going to get hurt? And I can take care of myself, you know.”

His muscles tighten, “Aster, I know that. And if that thing comes back, who knows what it would do.”

The kettle whistles, saving me from the silence that has grown between us, “I’ll be right back.” I tell him.

He lets me go and I go to the kitchen. In each mug, I cover about a quarter of the bottom with the hot chocolate mix and add the boiling water. I get a spoon and stir both mugs.

“Smells good.” he calls from the den.

“I’ll be right there.” I tell him and, with a mug in each hand, I return to him.

“Thank you.” he says when I hand him one.

I take a seat beside him, our shoulders touching, “No problem.”

He places the mug to his lips and tilts it back. I do the same.

“This is really good.” he says.

“Its just the packaged stuff.”

Why is this conversation between us suddenly so awkward?

We sit in silence once again.

Just as I finish my hot chocolate, I hear shuffling outside of the front door.

Gabe and I get up at the same time.

“Aster, let me get it.” he says, walking towards to door.

I give him a discouraged look and I follow him, but lean on the door frame.

Gabe opens the door and lets go a sigh of relief.

“Oh! Hello Gabriel!” Vincent was the rustling noises, and the rustling noises was the clinking of his keys.

“Welcome home, Vincent.” Gabe steps out of the way.

Vince steps inside the house, “What are you guys doing home, anyway?”

Gabe looks at me and I shrug in reply. I guess no one had the chance to tell Vincent.

“I was late for school and when I got there, I snapped at Mary-Lynn. Then we ditched.” I tell him, leaning away from the door.

“Oh. Where did you go?” Vince slips off his shoes and jacket. His jeans are covered with white primer paint.

I open my mouth to tell Vince, but Gabe tells him instead, “We went to the mall, got lunch and saw a movie.”

“And when we got home, the kitchen was destroyed, trashed.” I interject.

“The kitchen?” Vincent’s eyes go wide and he dashes into the room to his right.

I walk up to Gabe and take his hand, he squeezes it tightly. We follow Gabe into the kitchen.

“I don't know what you guys are talking about, the kitchen looks fine.” Vince says, surveying the ‘damage.’

“We cleaned it up.” Gabe tells him.

“There was silverware all over the floor and there was orange juice and milk spilt on the floor, along with a few broken eggs.”

“Thank you both for cleaning it up. Do you guys have any idea who did it?”

“We were going to ask you the same thing.” Gabe says.

“Nobody hates you, right?” I ask him timidly.

Vince chuckles “Not that I’m aware of.”

“There something else, too.” I guide Gabe to the back door, “It is pretty bad...”

Vincent follows us, “How can something get worse than our kitchen turning into a pigsty?”

“Trust us.” Gabe concedes.

I sigh and open the door. We step out onto the porch.

“Close the door, Vince.” I tell him.

The door closes with a quiet click.

“What the hell!?” Vince fumes.

“We said the same thing.” Gabe says.

Vincent runs his hands over the scratch marks, like I did, “I’ve lived here all my life and there is no wildlife in Polson, never mind Montana, that could have made these. These are huge!”

There had been black and grizzly bears spotted near Polson, but very few have ever been caught in the town. Cougars can be ruled out because they are very scarce around Polson, and hardly any have ever been seen. Grey wolves are common in Montana, but if it was a wolf that scratch the door, it’d have to be twice as large as they are now.

“And that doesn’t explain the kitchen.” Vince continues.

“It could have been a dog.” I start. Both guys look at me and wait for me to continue, “I mean, the dog could have scratched the door-”

Vincent interrupts me, “Yeah, if that dog was on steroids.”

I glace at him, then at the door, “And a person could have broken in and made the mess.”

“Its a good idea,” Gabe utters, “but it still doesn’t explain why there are no tracks.”

“No tracks?” Vincent turns around to face the rest of the undisturbed snow in the backyard.

“We should go back inside; I’m cold.” my breaths comes out in a thin, white fog.

“Yes, we should.” Vince opens the door for both Gabe and I.

We step inside while he takes one more look at the scratches on the door.

“Are you hungry?” Vince asks us when he closes the door.

“Sort of. Gabe, are you?” I walk towards the den.

“Oh, no. I can’t stay for dinner tonight.” Gabe follows me.

“May I ask why?” Vincent’s voice carries from behind Gabe.

“My mom wanted me home to meet one of my dad’s colleagues or something. It’s gunna be dumb.” he shrugs.

“That’s too bad, we were going to have spaghetti.” Vincent says sullenly.

“Vince makes the best spaghetti sauce.” I claim.

“I’m sorry. I can’t stay tonight. Mom was really clear on that this morning.” Gabe insists.

“Oh, alright.” I say, giving up and facing the guy behind me.

“I’m not exactly hungry right now, but I’ll tell you when will put the noodles on. I have to go out and get groceries first.” Vince tells me, then walks towards the kitchen.

“Shall we go to my room then?” I ask him, taking his hand.

“Yes, lets.”

I lead him up the flight of stairs and into my room.

“Have a seat, if you’d like.” I tell him before closing the door,, “I have to feed Grub.”

With my back turned to him, I can hear his footsteps and then the springs in my bed squeak then settle under his weight, “so that's his name? It’s cute; it suits him.”

“Yeah, I thought so too. I’ve had him for a few years now. I got him as birthday present from Vincent.” I walk over to Grub’s tank and watch him.

The springs squeak again, “When is your birthday?”

“April 17th. Yours?”

“September 23rd.”

“I’m older than you?” I ask.

“Nope.” I can hear a smile in his voice. “I’m a year older than you.”

“Mm, a seventeen year old.” I bite my lip and smile.

“Three more years ‘til I can drink.” he says casually.

I clear my throat, “Mhm, yeah.” I get he container of fish food and open Grub’s tank. I undo the lid and feed him. He gobbles up the multi-colored flakes in no time. I feed him a bit more before butting the cap back on and turning around to find Gabe laying on the side of the bed I don't lay on.

“Sorry my bed is such a mess, I move around a lot when I sleep.” I walk over to the bed.

“Yeah. The first time I was here and you fell asleep on me, you didn’t so much as breathe, but as soon as I tucked you into bed, you rolled and twisted and turned.” he sits up a bit as I crawl over my twisted blankets to get to him.

“Hold me more often then. I woke up the other night with all my blankets on the floor.” I say recalling the events. “Had a terrible dream that night, too.” I sit on my knees beside him.

“What was it about?”

“It silly, really.”

“Tell me anyways.”

“I was with Vince at the bottom on the stairs and it was dark out. Andy was with us, but it wasn’t ‘Andy.’ He turned into a monster and came at Vincent. Then I woke up.”

“What did the monster look like?” he asks, genuinely interested.

“Um, he was grey-blackish and he transformed into something that had the face of a dog, sorta.” I c**k up head and squint at the signed and framed Steve Miller Band shirt that Vince had gotten for me when he went to their concert a few years ago. Next to the top are four framed vinyl records, placed in a square, showing off bands from when my mom was a kid.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah, he had a long tongue and sharp, sharp teeth. Oh, and his saliva was acid. He had huge feet and super long claws.”

When I look at Gabe again, he is pale.

“Whats wrong? Don’t tell me they exist.” I laugh nervously.

He shakes his head, and smiles at me, “It’d have to be genetically engineered for something like that to exist in the world today, or ever, for that matter. It just sounded like something I read in a book once, don’t worry about it.”

“Whatever you say.” I wink at him, “ Put your knee down.”

He had been sitting with his knee up while I talked about my dream.

“Why?” he asks, but puts his knee down as I said anyway.

“Where else am I supposed to sit?” I look at him hungrily through my bangs, with a sly smile spreading across my face while a cunning one spreads across his.

I sit on his hips, closer to his well defined abs. I run my hands over them over his shirt, then push myself backwards along his hips so that I am sitting on-well, the zipper of his pants.

“Aster.” he says under his breath.

“Mmm?” I push up his top exposing his soft, toned muscles.

“I know what you want.”

I bend-awkwardly- to kiss his abs and say, “Yeah? Whats that?” but my voice is muffled.

“Well, you want me, but we can’t do what you want...”

I sit up and place my hand on his rippled stomach, “You don't want to?”

“Baby, I do, but we can’t.”

I roll off of him and sit slouched on the bed, “Okay, why not?”

“I don’t have any type of,” he clears his throat, “Protection. And I don’t think you do either.”

I let out a huff, “I don't.”

“And I’m sure you don't want a kid.” he looks at me, “Not right now, I mean.”

“Mhm.” I really don't mind if Gabe thinks I’m being stubborn, even though he does have a point about me not wanted a kid.

“Don’t be mad, please.” he places a warm hand on my thigh.

“I’m not.” I protest.

“Then lets cuddle.”

I maneuver so that my head is resting on the space between his collarbone and his shoulder and a strong, protective arm is placed around my shoulders. He takes my hand in his.

After a few minutes, Gabe says, “I can’t believe I just used the word, ‘cuddle.’”

I laugh, “Its better than ‘smooch.’”

He laughs too, “This is true.”

Then we sit in silence.

“Gabe?”

“Mm?” he sounds groggy.

I turn my head to look at his face. With his head tilted back, eyes closed, and small sunbeams from the semi-drawn blinds resting on his face, he looks enchanting. Why am I so lucky? “Were you sleeping?”

“Mm, sort of.” his eyes flutter open. The way the sun casts beams into his eyes make them look like smokey crystal.

“Oh, I’m sorry, go back to sleep.”

He yawns, “I’m awake now.”

“Sorry.” I turn my head away from him, not wanting to disturb him anymore.

“Don’t be, I wasn’t completely asleep anyway.” he rubs the base of my thumb with his.

“So, Vincent will be out of town this weekend. From Sunday ‘til Thursday.”

“Oh? Whats he doing?” Gabe asks.

“He has to go paint this house, or something. I don’t know. He just said it was for his work.” I shrug.

“Ah. Then I can take you out Monday.”

“You could have taken me out anyway, but where are we going?”

“I know this sweet club called Done by Dawn. My band plays there sometimes.”

I squirm out of his grip and look at him, “Your what?”

He laughs, “My band.”

“You have a band?!” I am astonished. My boyfriend is full of secrets behind locked doors. There are probably more that I have yet to unlock.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, “called ‘Nightmares and Dreamscapes.’”

“Isn’t that the name of a Stephen King novel?”

“Yeah. Good book. My buddies and band-mates all read it at least once.”

I sit up next to him as he adjusts himself, “You’ll have to lend me it sometime.”

“Anything for you, babe.” he says, his voice low and seductive as he leans and kisses me.

I look into his grey eyes and suddenly I remember something, "Do you wanna look for my mom's chain?"

"Pardon?"

I smile and c**k my head, "My mom's chain, the one I said looks like yours."

"Oh. Are you sure you're okay to? I mean, I don't want you getting upset about... you know..."

"I'll be fine, besides, it about time I went through the boxes in the basement." I crawl off the bed, until I get to the edge and I stand up.

"Alright." he swings his legs off the side of the bed closest to him.

He walks around to the other side, where I still stand and holds out his hand, which I take before walking out of the room.

When we get downstairs, I stare at the stack of boxes in the corner of the basement.

I let out a sigh before sauntering over to the cardboard crates behind the hot water heater. I sit down before them.

"Which one do you want to start looking in?" I ask Gabe, who sits down beside me.

"This one, I suppose." he picks up a medium size box and places it beside him. Now I have to choose one of the last three.

I grab a smaller one near the top of the stack, and tell Gabe, "There might be glass in them in stuff so I would watch out."

"Will do."

Gabe opens his box first and then I follow, placing my hands on the edges of the box, bracing myself for the memories of the past that will overflow in my mind.

Author's Note

Needs to be edited :P