Dark One: One for Sorrow... (The Khiara Banning Series Book 1) (18 page)

We seem to be at a standstill until she frowns and looks down at my pocket. “Wanna explain what’s in there?” My cheeks heat up something terrible and I shake my head.

Cara reaches out slowly and panic builds in my chest, “It’s nothing, Cara seriously stop.” Her eyes narrow, “Khiara, with you…with you it’s never nothing. Now explain.”

Sighing, I reach into my pocket and produce the necklace. “This was on my mirror hook. My locker was open again, nothing was taken as usual…but,” I clear my throat, “I don’t know why they’d leave this only now? Why break into a locker repeatedly, take nothing every time, and then finally decide to leave me with this?” I dangle the necklace out in front of us and Cara takes hold of it.

“This is beautiful,” she breathes as she examines it. “But it’s also
really
sketchy. I mean I’m all for secret admirers but the whole breaking into your locker thing is like, out of hand. And then just poof, they decide to give you a little gift. I don’t know, Ki-ki, I don’t like this.”

“Neither do I,” I murmur as she hands it back to me. Placing it in my pocket I turn around and reach into my locker for my books just as the warning bell rings.

“Let’s just get to class,” I say. “I figure we can talk about this later.”

~*~

By the middle of the school day, we still haven’t had any time at all to talk about the necklace. It has been burning a hole in my pocket all day and as I sit in History class, I can’t help but reach into my pocket as Mr. Burnette drones on in that annoying voice of his about nothing to do with the lesson. As soon as my fingers touch the necklace, something strange happens.

Everything in the room completely stops. It’s like suddenly, everybody but me is frozen in place. From the seat next to me, Jake Pellinger’s finger is halfway up his nose. Mr.Burnette is in the middle of gesturing towards the board where there’s a crude drawing of a cat walking under a ladder right next to a list of some of the most influential people in history. Most of the students have a bored look plastered to their faces, and as I look around the room, I can actually make out the dust motes in the light of the window; frozen as if mid dance. I find that I am hyper aware of everything; every breath that fills my lungs every blink of my eyes.

And then it all goes back to normal as if nothing’s happened and I’m left with a very confused and probably hysterical look on my face.

Mr.Burnette stops gesturing at his ridiculous drawing. “Miss Khiara,” he says, concern colouring his voice, “is there something the matter?”

I can only blink up at him and whisper, “There’s
very
something wrong with me.”

~*~

“So,” says Lucille, the school’s guidance counsellor from the chair across from the couch I’m sitting on. “Tell me why you’re here today. I’d like to hear your feelings before I give any input.”

“It was just a panic attack,” I mumble. She jots something down in a little note book. “I think really I’m just stressed out, is all. I’ll be fine.” That’s a lie, because I am pretty sure I may be going absolutely crazy, but I can’t tell her what I think just happened. I’d be sent away for sure, shipped out to the hospital all the way in the next town over; our town is so small it doesn’t even have a mental health ward in the hospital.

Lucille smiles kindly at me, her warm brown eyes crinkling in the corners. She has a nice smile, comforting and warm, and it makes me
want
to tell her all of my problems. “Honey,” she says, “are you having trouble at home?”

I shake my head. “No. It’s nothing like that. I’m just stressed about school and work – it’s hard to do both at the same time without stressing out.”

She writes in her notebook some more. “Oh,” she says, “you’re working? Yes, doing both will definitely cause stress.” Her red hair is messy and keeps falling into her eyes, and I’m reminded of Cael when she pushes it out of the way, except he’s never frustrated by it, unlike Lucille, who seems like her hair is the bane of her existence.

“Do you want my elastic?” I offer her the band I always keep on my wrist. Lucille smiles and shakes her head, “No, thank you. I just got a perm and it didn’t really…well it looks awful,” she concedes. “But we’re here today to talk about you, not my hair disaster.”

I sigh. “I’m fine. I promise. I just need to learn how to deal with panic attacks and how to manage my time.”

An hour later, I’m sitting at the lunch table having arrived ten minutes before the beginning of lunch, about ready to punch somebody in the face, cry, or both. Lucille and I went through various breathing exercises and stress management techniques. It was truly not fun.

Cara sits down across from me, her tray filled with cookies, a very small plate of lasagne and an even smaller salad. To complete the tray of un-healthiness, she’s got a coke and a chocolate milk to drink. Cara sees my expression and instantly hands me the coke and her meagre salad.

She says, “You should probably have something to eat. You look like you want to die.” I nod and gladly take the food. In my awkward state, I’d forgotten to get food for myself. She gives me a pointed look and whispers, “I keep thinking about when I thought I saw…you know, and ever since, I’ve been getting really creepy vibes.”

Victoria and Damien sit down at the other end of the table and both give us a cursory glance. Janie and Chris arrive not long after them, Chris carrying a tray with both of their meals on it. Their presence effectively silences Cara, and she swirls her fork around her plate, not even bothering to eat her food.

Taking a bite of lettuce covered in some God-awful salad dressing, I close my eyes and try to pretend that the weird things that have been happening are products of my overactive imagination. Just as it’s beginning to work, that stupid tingle goes down my spine and I know, I just know that I’m being watched.

When I open my eyes, everybody at the table except Cara is looking at me.

“Are you okay, kid?” asks Victoria, actual concern lacing her voice. Everyone turns to her, confused, and she frowns. “What? She looks like somebody has her cornered with a gun. It’s disrupting my lunch to see her look so pathetic.”

Janie laughs and raises her hand to give her a high five, but one look from Victoria and her hand’s hanging limp an awkward in the air and she looks like she’s been slapped.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, “thought you were being serious.”

Victoria chuckles at her own private joke, “I was being serious. Doesn’t give
you
an excuse to be such a cun-”

“Whoa there,” Cara interrupts her. “I’m all for swearing, but I think y’all need to calm down.”

With a smirk Victoria says, “Y’all? This isn’t the south. I mean you Native Mainers all talk funny, but really?”

Janie turns her usual snark towards Victoria; a rare occurrence. “Last time I checked, you were from Canada and shouldn’t say anything bad about this great country.”

Victoria narrows her eyes and abruptly stands up, slamming her hands down on the table. “You have no idea where I come from, where I’ve been, or where I will go.”

Damien pales and slowly rises from his seat, his brown eyes tense. Placing his hand on his girlfriend’s back he says, “Come on, hon.” He turns to the rest of us, “We were up late last night.” Both Cara and I visibly cringe.

“I’m fine,” says Victoria, and then she turns to me. “But I know something’s up with you. It’s pissing me off. You should
probably
fix it.”

Fifteen

When I arrive at work, I’m pleased when Cael tells me it’s been a slow day, and when he tells me that he’s found somebody to work part time when I need days off and for weekends.

“Her name’s Lisa,” he says. “She’s a friend’s daughter.”

I smile and think about where I’ve heard that name before. “Lisa Foster?”

Cael nods, “Yeah, she goes to your school. I guess you’ve met before? Her and her father moved here a couple of years back around the same time I did. I grew up with him and his daughter’s become kind of a niece to me.”

“Yeah, I’m supposed to help her with her French.”

He smiles warmly, “She’s a lovely girl. Lisa will be coming in today, actually. Maybe you can show her the ropes.”

I find myself grinning at the prospect of seeing her today, because she really was very sweet. “Maybe today I can help her with her French on my break, if she’s here.”

Cael claps his hands together, “Excellent idea. I’m sure she’ll be thrilled.” His messy hair falls into his face and without thinking I reach over and gently push it away. His electric blue eyes meet mine, then trail up and down my whole body and heat instantly rushes to every part of me as they leave a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

“I should get to the cash,” I whisper. He nods, but his eyes hold a mischievous glint to them that matches his grin. “Yeah, you should, I suppose. Nobody is manning it. Luckily there are no customers.” Winking, he leans in close and kisses the tip of my nose, then walks away towards the kitchen.

“Oh,” comes a voice from behind me, “that was uhh, intense.”

I whip around, and Lisa is standing there with cheeks that are as red as roses. “Hi, uhh,” she says, “I see that you and my uncle are enjoying yourselves.”

It’s my turn to blush, but I can’t stop the dopey smile that’s plastered onto my face. “Hey. I’m supposed to show you how things are done around here. It’s really not so hard; I’ve only been working here since it opened.”

Her head bounces in a bubbly nod. “I can’t wait to get started.
“Well then,” I say, “there’s no time like the present. How about we start now?”

Lisa almost bursts with palpable excitement.

~*~

In between training Lisa for a bit, which proves not to be difficult at all because she is a very fast learner and a natural with the customers, and helping her with her French on break, I fall fast in love with her quirky attitude. Even though she’s only thirteen, she acts so wise sometimes, and is extremely composed when she has to be.

Cael is manning the cash and waiting on tables while Lisa and I work on her French verbs, when I suddenly remember about the necklace that’s in my pocket. It’s been stored in the back of my mind since I got here, and I almost completely forgot about it – but now it begs for my attention. I reach into my pocket and as soon as my fingers touch it, it pulses with a strange heat. I look around the room. Thankfully, nothing freezes this time and I wonder if I’d been imagining it all along – but no. I know what I saw, even if it sounds insane.

I pull the necklace out of my pocket and look it over. The red ruby of the heart sparkles beautifully in the light of the café, and the brass wings that cradle it suddenly seem so frail compared to the beauty of the stone.

“Wow,” marvels Lisa. I look up to see her staring at the necklace with a look of complete awe. “Where did you get
that?
”

I bite my lip. “Oh, it’s actually kind of a funny story.”

“I’m sick of conjugating verbs anyway. Let’s hear it then.” Lisa looks at me expectantly, like Pug when he’s waiting for a treat. I sneeze – stupid cold.