Someone's Watching

Two days earlier…

“Duck!”

A wasted word, seeing as whenever anyone heard it they did the exact opposite. I might as well have yelled out “Dancing chicken!” or “Naked lady!” as far as Dave was concerned. Because the minute I screamed it at him, he defied orders and began whirling about, trying to identify the reason for my sudden outcry. I cursed his stupidity, watching a brick fly from the window of a car driving past, aimed right at Dave’s head. Time for some fast thinking. I grabbed the football Alex was holding and threw it hard, even though Dave was only a hundred feet in front of me. It hit him square in the face and sent him keeling over backwards with a pain filled choice swearword, the stray brick smashing into the concrete wall of the building a second later. I glared at the car as it continued around the corner, away from where we were standing. The cackling laughter emanating from the open window of the back door was unmistakeable. Raising a hand and pointing in a threatening manner, I knew Gus saw me; knew he understood the challenge. I’d be gunning for him, and this time I wouldn’t hold back. His cackling increased in volume before the driver gunned the engine and the car sped around the corner and out of sight, tyres screeching.

“Jesus, Dave,” Alex said, rushing not to help the guy up, but to retrieve his precious football. I snorted at his lack of camaraderie and beside me, Ryder chuckled.

“Priorities,” he said, and we both ambled over to help Dave up. Grabbing an arm each, we hauled him to his feet while he cursed like a sailor on leave. He yanked his arm out of my grip and gave me a venomous glare. I offered him my most innocent smile.

“Wasn’t that just an epic toss?” I asked him, studiously ignoring the angry fire in his eyes as well as the red mark over his left cheek.

“‘Epic toss’? You just mashed me in the face with a ball going near sixty miles an hour at close range!” he yelled, flexing his jaw as if testing for further injuries.

I rolled my eyes at the exaggeration, but it was Ryder who saved me from escalating the situation. See, me and sarcasm were best friends, and I was all too inclined to point out the fact that I had graciously taken into consideration and then decided against the using of the ball to break his nose. Also, in the space it took me to seize the ball and throw it I had thought of three possible targets: his crotch - he would have doubled over instantly at that one, which made it the most viable target, his stomach - again, he would have doubled over, but I wasn’t sure if he’d lean over far enough to miss the brick, and lastly his face - which turned out great. He’d keeled over backwards beautifully, though something told me he wouldn’t appreciate me saying as much at this time.
So in retrospect, he was lucky a puffy cheek and a bit of wounded pride was all he had to b***h about.

“Better a ball full of air than the brick that was headed your way,” Ryder said, his lips twitching in an effort not to laugh. Ah, good old Ryder, ever the peacemaker. He reached over and clapped Dave on the back, trying to rid him of some of the dust clinging to his black shirt. The letters FBI were printed on the front in bright yellow, and written underneath in slightly smaller print was FEMALE BODY INSPECTOR. No wonder the guy could never get a girlfriend, I thought absently. He complained incessantly that it was due to his God awful Irish background that saw him blessed with flaming red hair and a thick smattering of freckles over the pale skin of his face. But really, I concluded that it had less to do with that and more to do with his attitude. He was a total horn dog and chased after anything with ample cleavage. The only reason we were friends was because I was, ahem, lacking in the chest department.

“Christ, Jacey,” Alex said, disbelief in his voice as he sidled up on my left.

I shrugged irritably.

“What?” I said defensively. “I told him to duck.”

“No, forget that,” he said, waving a dismissive hand in Dave’s direction. “I meant Christ, you’re a girl, and you can throw a ball just like Joe Montana, if not better.”

Putting aside the fact that I had no idea who he was talking about, I was deeply offended.

“You say that like being a girl means I automatically shouldn’t be able to.”

Alex raised his eyebrows at the testy note in my voice. Being the newest addition to our little group of misfits, he didn’t yet know that I detested the sexist outlook a lot of people had - where women were considered the weaker sex while men reaped all of the glory in life and were deemed the “superior gender” of the human race. Oh, but he was about to learn real fast if he kept up his boy-girl comparisons.

On his other side, Ryder sighed heavily. He’d been on the receiving end of this particular tirade once before and knew all too well what it entailed.

He tapped Alex on the shoulder. “Let it go, man. Just say, “nice throw” and move on. She doesn’t take well to people telling her what she should and shouldn’t be able to do as a girl. So if you value your ears, you’d do well to heed my advice.”

Alex looked at me uncertainly and I raised an eyebrow, inviting him to take this farther. I must admit, it felt good to have someone six inches taller and twice my girth squirm uneasily beneath my stare.

“Nice throw?” he said, making it sound like a question rather than a statement.

I cracked a smile. “Thank you, Alex.”

“Does anybody care about my throbbing face?” Dave moaned, and I gave him a pointed stare.

“It’s your own fault,” I said, my words a far cry from the apology he was no doubt fishing for. “If you had just ducked like I told you to, none of this would have happened.”

“No,” he snapped back, taking a step towards me. My back straightened instantly and I tensed, ready - and a little too willing for my liking - to take Dave on. Baffled by my own need to exact retribution on anybody who challenged me - this wasn’t the first time it had happened; it seemed I felt the need to beat the crap out of anybody who eyeballed me the wrong way - it took me a second to register that there was a definite hint of fear in Dave’s blue eyes. Whatever he saw on my face, he didn’t like it.

Ryder, acting as peacemaker, and my best friend, shifted his body so I was half shadowed from Dave’s towering figure. I had a moment to wonder who he was protecting: me, or Dave, before Dave regained his composure and his anger. Out of our foursome, he and I were the two most likely to come to blows over some inane topic. While we were friends, and I say the term loosely, we both had short tempers and were extremely opinionated, neither one willing to back down once all was said and done. As it was, Ryder and Alex were surprised it hadn’t happened already. God knew it was long overdue.

“None of this would have happened if you hadn’t gone and antagonised Gus last week at school,” Dave continued, running a hand through his short curly hair. “That was Gus, right? Or have you made some new enemy that we’re not aware of?”

I bristled at the dig. “Contrary to popular belief - your beliefs really, I do not go around and make enemies of everyone that looks sideways at me.” But I inexplicably wanted to show them who was boss, I added mentally. “Yes, it was Gus who threw the brick at you. Stupid son of a b***h. Doesn’t know who he’s messing with.”

But he would soon find out, I thought, for once looking forward to school on Monday.

Dave snorted in amusement, and with that snort some of the tension encasing our little group eased. “I hope you’re SOB comment was directed at Gus and not me.”

“Would I ever say something like that to you?” I asked sweetly as Ryder stepped back to the side, confident our spat was over.

“Not to my face,” he said, but a smile told me he was only teasing.

I walked over and picked up the brick that had been aimed at Dave’s head, the large concrete slab demanding that I use both hands to heft it easily.

“Well, he was certainly trying to make a statement with that,” Ryder commented dryly, taking it from me with one of his hands and tossing it in the air.

“Really? I’d say he was trying to kill someone with it,” Alex put in, giving Dave a pointed look.

Ryder and I sighed simultaneously, and I barely resisted the urge to roll my eyes at our blonde friend. He definitely lived up to his hair colour, or was at least born without the subtlety gene. A bit of both, I decided when he continued with, “Or at the very least he was trying to maim you.”

“No, you think?” Dave replied, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Ryder snorted and tossed the brick back to the pavement. “Okay, now that we’ve established ‘intent to harm’, can we also agree that we are not going to retaliate in any way? The last thing we need to do is provoke him into doing something worse.”

I hid a sheepish look behind my hand, coughing to help cover it up. Obviously he had missed my threat when the car had driven by. If I could help it, I wasn’t going to draw attention to it now, lest he make me swear to stay away from the scumbag. Because then I’d have to lie and say I would, and I hated lying to Ryder. We were best friends for a reason, and honesty was at the base of that friendship, along with trust.

“You think I’m dumb enough to go after that psycho?” Dave asked, a hint of incredulity in his voice. He started off down the footpath and we fell into step beside him, me slightly behind everybody else.

“Ditto,” Alex said, tossing the pig skin up and down. “Besides, I doubt we need to provoke him. Seems the type of guy who doesn’t bother with things like tit for tat.”

I made what I hoped was a noise of agreement. That way if Ryder snapped me doing something I shouldn’t be, like say, pummelling the s**t out of Gus behind the school gym, I could worm my way out of his patronising stare by telling him I never actually said I’d leave him alone. Yes, as well as sarcasm, cunning was my middle name.

“Just checking,” he said, and we rounded the corner onto one of the main streets.

Being midday on a Saturday, the traffic was thick, the sidewalks packed with people. To our right was a line of coffee shops and numerous restaurants, the various food scents wafting over me, coffee and fried chicken the strongest. Across the road were the different department stores, the storefronts screaming several different brand names at me. Not that I knew what was “in” or what was “hot” at any given time. My wardrobe came complimentary of a la thrift store, my baggy jeans and plain tee straight from the racks that spelled ‘Second Hand’. It didn’t bother me none. As long as I had enough clothing to avoid a stint in jail for indecent exposure, I was pretty happy. Besides, being a foster kid stuck in a foster home where your dear old foster parents often ‘forgot’ to give you the money you were entitled to to buy the basic necessities of life didn’t leave much room for argument, much less an article of clothing that cost a hundred dollars because it had “Juicy“ written on the a*s of the pants. Someone hand me a permanent marker - I could recreate that particular logo on the butt of my jeans, no problem.

I crashed into Ryder’s solid back with an oomph, not realising they’d stopped.
“Ouch,” I said, rubbing my squished nose. He turned to face me with a questioning look in his blue-gray eyes.

“You weren’t listening to anything I just said, were you?” he asked, lips turned up in amusement.

“Um, if I say yes, will you quiz me on it?” I replied, taking in a few breaths to test the sting in my left nostril.

He wrapped a strong arm around my shoulders and hauled me up against the side of his lean body, giving me a classic noogie despite my screeching protest. When he let go, my black hair was standing partially on end, the shorter layers sticking straight up.

“Ryder,” I moaned, trying to flatten it but having little success.

“Hey, that’s what you get for not listening.” When I glowered at him, he laughed. “I said we were going to stop in at Nick’s and grab Dave’s board. Are you coming?”

I screwed my face up. Nick was one of Dave’s close friends, and therefore a friend of Ryder’s and Alex’s by association. As for my relationship with the snarky know-it-all, it could be summed up in few words: he was a creep. One I tried to spend minimal time with for fear of ending up alone with him. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but something about him just didn’t sit right with me. And it had nothing to do with his shifty little eyes or his grabby hands.

“Uh, no. I think I’ll pass. I’ll meet you later though?”

He nodded, but hesitated in following Alex and Dave who had crossed the road, shouting their goodbyes without so much as a backward glance.

“Go,” I said, nudging him with my shoulder. He allowed my push to rock him sideways but still hesitated, running a hand through his messy black hair. I smiled at the gesture. He always did it when he was agitated or worried, and I was betting that this time it was the latter, and also involved me.

“You sure?” he asked, confirming my suspicions. “I can always stay here and hang with you.”

I shook my head and began walking backwards down the sidewalk, forcing people to manoeuvre around me and ignoring their disgruntled comments about teenagers having no manners or consideration.

“I’ll be fine. I don’t need a babysitter. Those two on the other hand,” I said, gesturing at Alex and Dave who were now tossing the football over the crowd, “should definitely not be left unattended.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than Alex fumbled the ball and it bounced into the middle of the street. Heedless of the cars zooming by in each direction he lunged for it, and Ryder cursed before darting out into the road, neatly dodging a Beamer to drag boy and ball to safety before one or both met the end of their lives.

“Drop by my house later,” Ryder called, still holding Alex by the scruff of his neck like he was a naughty puppy. I nodded, and watched them disappear down a side street, chuckling as I imagined the lecture Alex would be receiving via our groups’ mother hen about safe practices when playing in the street.

I was about to turn and head to the arcade further down when an unfamiliar sensation prickled my conscience. It had the fine hairs on the back of my neck standing on edge and I shuddered. I can’t say exactly what it felt like - having awareness surge like that, alerting me to someone’s presence; someone who was watching me closely. I can’t even explain how I knew what the sensation signified. But it washed over me, spreading and becoming stronger until I whipped around, scanning the streets like I was bound to spot some busybody in the sea of moving people, just staring at me. Scoffing at myself because there was no way someone would be that obvious even if I did have a sudden case of stalkers-on-deck, I almost fell over in shock when my eyes rested on someone standing about thirty feet down from me on the opposite side. He was blatantly staring, his sharp blue eyes looking directly at me while he stood unaffected by the people nearest him jostling him as they tried to filter through the crowd. He had long reddish brown hair that hung loose to his shoulders, fanning out over a worn black duster. Christ, he had to be boiling under the thick leather, the weather nowhere near cold enough to warrant such a coat. Underneath it he was wearing a pair of dark jeans and a plain black tee, a pair of cowboy boots on his feet. Stalker clothes? Let’s not be hasty, I chided myself. There could be a perfectly good explanation behind the fact that a hot guy was standing across the street staring at me. And honestly, hot was an understatement. I’d always thought Ryder was good looking with his dark hair and gray eyes framed by a set of impossibly long lashes, his olive skin wrapped around a very nicely proportioned body. But unfortunately he had nothing on this guy. The dark red hair and blue eyes complemented his sun kissed skin, while high cheekbones and full, pouty lips matched perfectly with a strong jaw. Not ruggedly handsome, but leaning more towards boyishly handsome; delicate, for lack of a better word, but in no way feminine.

He shifted slightly, angling his body so that he was facing me head on, and the sense of being watched increased incrementally. Ignoring the feeling, trying to convince myself I was mistaken, I turned full circle. And found I was the only one immobile, much to the disgust of a group of middle-aged women trying to come out of the café I was in front of. Apparently I was stopping their merge into foot traffic. Not that I cared. I was too interested in the guy checking me out to pay attention to the annoyed twitters of some old bat wearing clothes meant for someone half her age. I sighed irritably and stepped backwards, also taking a few steps to the side, my eyes riveted on my potential stalker. He tracked the movement avidly, watching like a hawk about to swoop in and nab its prey. I resisted the urge to shudder again, instead raising an eyebrow in question. If he noticed he didn’t let on, didn’t respond in any way. Just kept right on staring, cocking his head to the side ever so slightly. I grew tired of our staring game quickly, agitation replacing unease. For God’s sake, didn’t his mama ever teach him that staring was rude? Maybe I should offer him that little piece of advice, I thought, taking a step towards him while ignoring a voice in my head - one that sounded scarily like Ryder’s and was telling me I was a complete and utter moron if I was going to waltz up to a potential stalker to inform him that ogling strangers was rude.

Before I could step off the pavement, a group of teenage guys paused in front of me, one knocking me backwards in an attempt to gain better access to the tight circle they were forming. Now at five eight, I was no shortie, but these guys all seemed to tower over me, effectively blocking my view of the guy across the street. When they showed no signs of moving, I cursed and ducked around them, but was too late. The spot that had been occupied only seconds earlier now stood deserted, people treading over it like there had never been someone standing there in their way. And as I scanned the crowd diligently for any signs of red hair or a black duster and came up empty, I had to wonder if I’d been imagining it myself. The fast fading sense that someone had been watching me said no, I hadn’t imagined it at all.

Reviews

[life*of*equiluxe]

I think you got her personality across pretty well- instincts and nature, etc! I did have a little bit of a hard time following it, but I am also reading this after working a 12 hour shift! I will sit down and re-read tomorrow and see what more I can offer you. :) I do like!