6:59 (2 page)

Read 6:59 Online

Authors: Nonye Acholonu,Kelechi Acholonu

BOOK: 6:59
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

****

I got back home at around 6:45 a.m. Good, lots of time to spare. I kicked off my shoes, jumped onto my bed and watched some early morning cartoons. Yeah, I said it. I watch cartoons.

I didn't even notice when I blacked out.

Chapter Three

Olive

I couldn't believe I was
still
shy around people. I could only manage to utter a few words to one of my best friends, Hudson. She and Cameron were probably the only people in school who had ever heard me laugh.

After English, I walked to my AP History course. Thankfully, Hudson was in that class with me. I quickly scurried over to the seat next to hers.

“Liv,” she greeted me happily, turning to face me. “I was wondering what was taking you so long.” She flipped her long, straight, chestnut-colored hair over her brown shoulder.

“Hey,” I said, checking her out. I still couldn't get over her look.

Her long, thick hair had always been unique, a few shades darker than her brown skin color. Her eyes were a deep shade of mahogany and her physique always looked so lean and fit. But this year she looked even
better
.

Hudson made a face. “See, when you stare at people like that,” she said with a smirk on her face, “it just makes you weirder.” She winked a heavily-darkened eyelid at me.

I giggled sheepishly, trying unsuccessfully to hide my blush. “It's hard
not
to stare, Hudson,” I said, taking out my notebook and pencils. “You're just so… unique.” I didn't know if
unique
could actually describe my best friend. But then again, nothing could.

Hudson rolled her large eyes and smirked her full lips. “I would prefer totally awesome,” she said. “Unique sounds like you're just trying to compliment someone with three heads and six mouths.”

I laughed once again, shaking my head at her dismissive attitude. Hudson was super confident but she could never take compliments well.

“How about the words
beautiful
,
stunning
,
simply striking
,” a deep voice said from behind us. I glanced over my shoulder to see Hudson's long term boyfriend, Armando, standing lean and tall over both of our desks.

Once again, I couldn't help but to stare at him as well. With his thick, shiny, shoulder length black hair, pale amber eyes, and dark-tan, muscular build, staring at him became a usual thing for me. I had to shake my head in bewilderment. Even though I've known the two of them for the longest time, they just kept on blossoming into more and more beautiful people with each passing year.

“Thanks, babe,” Hudson said, tilting her head up for his kiss. He returned the gesture, leaning down to plant his full lips on hers for longer than he should have. I averted my gaze, allowing them their brief moment of romantic privacy.

“So how was your summer, Liv?” Hudson asked me, apparently finished with saying hello to her boyfriend. Armando took a seat in the empty space next to Hudson's, his large swimmer's body towering over the small desk. He gave me a quick, dazzling white smile, encouraging me to explain my summer details.

“It wasn't very eventful,” I responded, shrugging my shoulders and peering down at my desk. It really wasn't. I could literally say that I spent probably ninety percent of my time reading books and playing music in my room. The other ten percent happened to be spent lounging outside on my lawn, trying to get Cameron's attention. Great progress
that
brought me. Not.

Hudson pouted empathetically, drooping her slim shoulders. “Aw, really?” she asked, the look of pity engulfing her mahogany eyes. “I
told
you to come with Mannie and me to Galicia. It would have been a total blast with you there. Trust me.”

I frowned a little, rolling my eyes in annoyance. “Hudson, I
told
you, I had important things to do.” Trying to get Cameron's attention probably wasn't important to anyone else, but as for me, it was vital that I saw him at least once a day. Even if only through my upstairs window.

I tossed my hair over my shoulder, cheering up a bit. “But how was Galicia?” I asked, changing the topic. “Was he as maddening as the last time you saw him?”

Hudson sighed heavily, plopping her chin on her hand. “
More
. Guess what he made me do for half the time I was there?”

I cocked my head to the side in response.

“I had to meet, like, three hundred gazillion old Galician men every second of the day. It was as if he were trying to show me off to them, or something.” She shivered in disgust, probably remembering her “awful” time there.

Armando chuckled at his girlfriend's dramatic behavior. “The man was proud to present his beautiful daughter to his friends,” he said, a slight Spanish accent grazing his words. He drummed his hands on the desk. “Cut him a little slack. He hasn't seen you in four years.”

Hudson punched him in the shoulder. “Don't stand up for him!”

Armando laughed, grabbing her fist and kissing it gently. “I have to, my sweetheart,” he responded. “After all, he
did
offer to pay for my education
and
allow me to stay with you in this amazing country.” He pouted at Hudson. “I owe my life to him.”

Hudson just sighed and shrugged, apparently annoyed that her beau wasn't on her side this time, like he always was.

I couldn't help but smile at the two of them. They were cute. Their story could be some romantic chick flick if they wanted it to be. It all started when Hudson decided to visit her father one summer in Galicia when she was nine years old. She loved Galicia then, proclaiming that she was treated like royalty and had always spent time with her father (the man we now refer to only by pronouns). She continued to see him every year since then, after befriending her father's best friend's son, Armando. They would write to each other frequently and plan to meet every summer.

When she was thirteen years old, four years ago, she and her father had some type of feud over how he wanted Hudson to live with him forever in Galicia. Of course, Hudson didn't want that and threatened to run away. Armando insisted upon running away as well, declaring his “violently passionate love for her.” The two of them had made it all the way down to the southern part of Portugal when they were caught by her father's numerous guards. Then, not wanting to lose his precious daughter once again, he allowed her to return back to America. This time Hudson would not leave without
her
precious Armando, causing another feud between her and her father. And now that Armando was involved, so was
his
family, and
that
caused a feud between
both
of their families.

Sort of like a Romeo and Juliet type of thing. Kind of.

But no one had to die for anyone because Armando's father had always wanted the best for his intelligent son. He had then agreed to allow his son to study abroad in America because he presumed that an American education would be beneficial for Armando. After countless deals and promises, Hudson's father agreed to pay for his friend's son's education if Armando promised to protect his daughter. Armando bid him his pledge that he would let nothing harm his precious girl at any cost. Then, the two lovebirds were free to return to America, where they currently stay with Hudson's mother, Monica.

How I know all this? Well, let's just say that I've heard the story every year since “That Time” — as Hudson likes to refer to it — happened.

“Well,” I said, returning back to the conversation at hand, “I'm pretty sure you probably spent the other half of the time sunbathing and shopping?”

Hudson peered at me with confused eyes. “
Of course
I went shopping!” she exclaimed. “What
else
would I be doing there?”

I rolled my eyes at my best friend. I could name four million other things I would rather do. The first being able to spend time with
my
father.

Chapter Four

Cameron

I didn't have any more classes with Olive that day. I tried not to let my devastation show as I shoved my books into my locker angrily. I had made sure to sign up for each and every class she had chosen — even that stupid pottery class. Yet, luck was not in my court, again.

I grabbed my schedule out of my bag and ripped it up, letting the debris fall to the floor. School was the only time I had to spend with Olive. I had made so many plans to be with her and now I could only see her for an hour a day. My anger began to boil as I clenched the cool, sharp edges of my locker and squeezed, hard.

“Hey!” the voice said behind me. I felt a tap on my shoulder. “What are you up to?” It was Armando. He had just come out of his class and now he was standing next to me, towering over me at a whopping six foot four.

I nodded a hello.

Armando smiled and then checked out my hand. “Dude, you do know you're bleeding, right?” he said, pulling my hand away from the locker edge.

I checked out my bruised hand and chuckled softly. Blood streamed down my hand and wrist. I frowned. “Stupid lockers,” I said hesitantly. “That's a hazard you know. They should put child proof edges on or something, right?”

Armando laughed and clapped a big, brown hand on my shoulder. “Only for babies like you,” he said.

I pushed him off me and laughed. “So, got any classes with Hudson?” I asked, dabbing my wound with one of my gym T-shirts. The gash wasn't terrible; just a cut that would leave a hint of a scar.

Armando ran his hand through his jet black hair. “Of
course
I do,” he said, flashing his brilliantly white teeth at me. “No way was I not going to be with her.”

“That's called
suffocating
, Mannie,” I said, and smirked.

Armando shrugged. “At least I'm not hurting myself over her,” he said, pointing at my wounded hand. “I have
some
control.”

I glanced at my hand again, sighing. Armando was right. I had no control. I always felt as if I wasn't myself. Thoughts — hostile ones — continued to course through my veins every second. And now I was hurting myself?

I shook my head to mask my anxiety. “Don't say anything to Olive,” I said in a hushed tone. “We are starting off on a good path. I don't want it to stop.”

Armando wrapped his arm around my shoulder and shuffled my hair. “Why would I ruin this little romance you two have?” he asked, his Spanish accent surfacing.

I shrugged. “Good question.”

We walked down the hallway and turned the corner out to the parking lot. I tossed out the bloody shirt, ridding myself of it. As I was headed for my car, Armando stopped me.

“Cameron,” he said, pulling out his swim bag, “you can still try out for the team. I mean, you love swimming.”

I let my gaze fall to the floor. I did love swimming. In fact, swimming was one of the things that calmed me down. It was something I grew up on, something I had cherished. Up until things changed.

I shook my head at my best friend. “I can't,” I said sadly, pulling out my car keys. “I have to go home.”

****

“Cameron!” my father's voice called from inside the living room.

I shut the tall door behind me, locking each and every lock. I even checked the lock once more and placed an umbrella discreetly on the doorknob.

No burglar was getting through that door.

I swiveled back around and said, “Yeah, Dad?” Dropping my bag on the staircase, I walked into the living room where four beautiful women sat around my dad. They all were of different ethnicities. They dressed in mini cocktail dresses, and had big hair and tons of makeup. Their heels were a gazillion inches tall and they were all rail thin.

“I've got the models for the new campaign,” Mr. Sloane said, standing up from his wide leather chair. He walked over to me and clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Son,” he said proudly, “meet the new Midnight Models.”

I smiled politely. “Hi, ladies,” I said.

The ladies giggled seductively and waved their perfectly manicured fingers at me. I managed to keep myself from laughing like an idiot, but I could feel the heat from my blushing take over my face.

“So these ladies are going to be around doing the photo shoot,” Dad explained. “Try not to get in the way of things. Understand?” His voice wasn't demanding, but I could tell he was completely serious about my not disturbing him.

I nodded my head and ran upstairs, leaving him to do his work.

Dad had been managing Midnight Models for so long; you'd think it was easy for me to handle beautiful women in the house every day. But sadly, it was still mind-boggling. I never really wanted to be around all of that stuff, to be honest. Although he is my adoptive father, he still wants me to take control of the agency once I graduate. It pays extremely well and the name is internationally known, however the business wasn't appealing to me. Seeing the women — that was fun, but managing them — not so much. That's why I made sure to stay clear from his work or things would get ugly.

Upstairs, I went right to my homework. I worked three hours straight on my reports, projects, assignments, and notes. I even completed homework that hadn't been assigned yet. I read through pages of books that wouldn't be touched until next week. There was no time for leisure. I never had time for that. When twelve hours of your day was spent blacked out, there was no way I could slack. Ever.

At around six, I started practicing my instruments. I had played the guitar since I was twelve, learning every basic tune as well as the most difficult. I practiced my songs and my melodies, and I recorded my newest harmonies. Afterward, I went to the piano.

Music was the only thing that kept me sane. Without it, there would be nothing for me to live for. I couldn't play sports anymore, and there was no way I could participate in after-school activities. I hadn't seen a football game or a dance in my entire life, and sleepovers were nonexistent to me. My entire night life didn't exist. I had no clue what the stars looked like outside of pictures, or how big the moon was in real life. I've never seen the lights of downtown or the ocean after dark. And I've only ever seen a bonfire on TV.

I sighed, taking my fingers off the shiny white piano keys. I spent my entire life at home or at school. I had no social life without school and no hope of getting into college without music. I couldn't swim anymore, not with all of the meets running into the night. Imagine what would happen if I blacked out in the water. My career in swimming would end, as well as my life. I couldn't take the risk.

Fifteen minutes until blackout.

I shoved dinner into my mouth; steak, salad, asparagus, and a baked potato. Then I went and did my stupid little routine: setting my shoes next to my bag, picking out my clothes for tomorrow, cleaning every last corner of my room. I removed my clothes and then fell into bed at exactly 6:59 p.m.

Other books

Crowned by Cheryl S. Ntumy
All Through the Night by Connie Brockway
Split at the Seams by Yolanda Sfetsos
Every Perfect Gift by Dorothy Love
Mating Games by Glenn, Stormy, Flynn, Joyee
Julian's Pursuit by Haleigh Lovell
Homesick by Guy Vanderhaeghe