Feline (Chapter Four)

The Fourth chapter of "Feline".

 

That night at eight-thirty, Danielle, Tyrone and I met up at the corner of our street. We all looked fabulous in our new clothes. I made them wait for at least ten minutes due to mom's hour-long speeches. I had to come up with a bunch of lies to assure her that everything would be fine. The night was misty, the moon partially hidden and the breeze colder and stronger.

We started walking along the curb, studying each other's outfits. Danielle looked gorgeous. No questions about that. Her curly, golden hair was tied up in a ponytail tonight. She looked mesmerizing in her new, white dress. I felt like garbage next to her.

“Isn't Kurt supposed to pick you up tonight?” Tyrone asked me, breaking the silence. We were turning right into a narrow alleyway.

I nodded solemnly. “I knew he wasn't going to come.”

Danielle sighed. “Could you just please forget about him for one night?”

“What if he comes to the party?” Tyler challenged her.

“Then finish it,” Danielle told me. “Frank Stratton is hotter, anyway.”

I made a face at her as the silence resumed. We were almost at the end of the shortcut when a shadowy figure stepped into view. He was taller than any of us and definitely good-looking, even in the darkness. He was clad in an expensive-looking cardigan, black pants and sneakers.

His short, spiky brown hair imitated the color of his eyes. At first, I stepped back in alarm until recognition dawned in my eyes. Then I started walking past him when he caught my left hand and pulled me gently.

“Cass,” Kurt whispered. “Let's talk.”
I could see Danielle and Tyrone frozen behind me. They knew how rough Kurt and I fought. “Um, Cassie,” Danielle muttered. “I think Tyrone and I should go ahead.”

I glanced towards them and nodded slowly. Danielle took Tyrone's hand and led him away. The soft tapping of her heels against the ground drifted away as they vanished out of sight. I remained silent and withdrew my hand from Kurt's grip.

“There's nothing to talk about,” I told him silently without looking at him. I want to avoid meeting his gaze as much as possible; staring into those lovely brown eyes melted my heart every time.

He took a sidewards step to block my way. I could smell his masculine fragrance; the very scent of it made me shudder.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered again in the same low voice that nearly made my ears clap. I was slightly stunned. He never apologized.

That was when I returned his gaze. His face was inches from mine. I could see every pore, the soft pink lips, and most especially, the heartwarming brown eyes. I instantly felt the rage inside me soften.

“I know I was overreacting,” he murmured, taking my hands in his.

I nodded and said, “Yes, you were. You know I feel nothing for Frank.” I felt the rush of tears in an instant. I fought hard to keep them at bay. I wouldn't want him to see me crying again for such a simple matter.
“I was being absolutely dumb and insensitive,” he told me, gripping my hands tighter. “And I've been thinking a lot since that argument over the phone.”

I felt the crease between my eyebrows as I stared into his handsome features. He looked worried, even scared.

“About what?” I asked. My heart began to pound. I didn't want to hear his answer, but I knew he was going to say it anyway.
“About... us.” He let go of my hands and turned his back to me. The street lamp across the road silhouetted him. The effect looked rather nice. Like a movie poster.

“What a – about us?” I said, my voice beginning to break. The back of his head glistened under the light.

He breathed twice and paused for a few seconds before saying, “I think that – that we need some space for a while.”

“Space?” I repeated, trying to sound confused though I perfectly knew what he meant. I couldn't control the tears anymore. The pounding of my heart was enough to outrun a drilling machine.

He turned back to me, the corners of his eyes wet. I could feel by the intensity of his gaze that he was hurting.

“Space,” he said. “We've been consistently inconsistent.” He smiled a little and took my hands again before continuing, “And I don't want that. It hurts me. It hurts you too. I'm not getting tired of us, I just want to fix a few things up.”

“But I don't understand,” I said, ignoring the flow of tears. “If there's something wrong with me – I can – I can change – and – and -”

“- No, Cass, no,” he interrupted. “There's nothing wrong with you. You're the perfect girl.”

“And you're the wrong guy?” I said, making a face. “That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard.”

“Possibly,” he agreed. “But it's right. I've hurt you too much and I can't stand seeing you cry all the time. I have to – to – go away for a while and think.”

I didn't say anything. I couldn't think of anything to answer him. The feeling was like being crushed inside. I don't want to lose him. I never dreamed of this moment. It was exactly like in the movies. But this is different, this is reality.

“Remember the summer vacation in Florida with my family?” he asked quietly. “I wasn't supposed to come. I wanted to be with you. But that argument made me think a lot. Maybe I should go away for a while. That way, we'll find out if things have changed when we get back together.”

The last few words soothed me a little. It's just a summer vacation. He'll be back in next to no time. I was dreading stuff like moving away for good. But two months without him was unbearable.

“I'm not going to stop you,” I told him. “If this is what you want, then go for it. It's going to be difficult, but I'm going to be okay.”

He smiled and ruffled my hair.

“Don't do that!” I whispered furiously and returned his smile. Then he pulled me into his arms and covered me with his breathtaking fragrance. I could live in his strong arms forever. I felt safe in them. I realized at that very second how much I love this guy. I rested my head on his right shoulder and embraced him. It was such a pleasant feeling – like you never want to let go.

He started dancing with me slowly. I know we must've looked really stupid dancing in the darkness in the alley, but I couldn't resist.

“Save the dancing for later,” I said after a while when he finally released me. We both laughed and started walking. He held out his arm and I took it. It was hilarious to think how easily we patched things up.

When we arrived at the Bourghman residence, the party had already started. The house was bigger than any other in this town. The entire street was parked with cars. The party was being held in the entrance hall where two dozen tables and chairs were set up beautifully against the oak-paneled walls and domed ceiling.

We were obviously late, but I couldn't care less. I recognized everyone in my school as soon as Kurt and I walked in through the open front doors. Most of them were dancing in the big space in the center of the foyer surrounded by the tables. Others were preoccupied in their own conversations.

I immediately saw Danielle and Tyrone amongst the dancing crowd. I waved at them and they waved back as Kurt and I settled into the nearest empty seats.

“Cassandra!”

I wheeled around and saw Samantha Bourghman, the party hostess. She was as beautiful as ever. She resembled Danielle very strongly, but her hair was straight and shorter. Her eyebrows were carefully penciled and intimidating.

“I thought you couldn't come,” she said stubbornly, patting me on the back and winking at Kurt.

“I promised I would,” I told her. “It's brilliant. I love it.”

“Thanks,” she said. “Everyone loves my parties. It's almost like a tradition, isn't it?”

She gave me another one of her annoying smiles and turned to Kurt.

“So how are you, mister?”

Kurt stared at her as though he wished nothing better than to talk to someone else.

“Great,” he grunted.

“I heard you're going away for vacation?” Samantha asked him eagerly.

He nodded. She stiffened in her seat, looking shocked. I nearly burst into laughter. Her facial expressions were just perfect and comical all the time.
I strayed my eyes from the table and watched the other guests. Some of the dancers had returned to their tables to eat. That was when I noticed him. He wasn't anybody I recognized from school, I was certain of that.

He had short, ruffled, jet-black hair and a skeptical expression that looked permanent. His nose was incredibly long and perfectly angular. The clothes stood out among the colorful outfits in the foyer – black leather jacket, tight, frayed gray pants and boots. The type of man you'd usually see in a pub.

What a show-off, I thought as my eyes x-rayed his features. Then I realized with a pang that I did recognize him. But no, it couldn't be. No freaking way. His black eyes were roving around the hall as though he were looking for something. Me?

I swiftly faced the table again to hide. My brain was whirring as fast as the hammering of my heart. I could feel the throbbing of my pulse. This wasn't possible. It's another dream. Another nightmare. Wake me up! I didn't know how long I sat there with my head bowed and my arms and limbs shaking from fright. Then a cold hand gripped my shoulder and I started to scream.

Author's Note

Please ignore the grammar problems. Oh and what do you think about the dialogue?