Mark of the Seer (3 page)

“H-Hey, Brenton,” I stammered like a moron. I wondered if he had heard everything. “How long ya been standin' there?”

“Yeah,” Kora nervously pushed in, her body tensing next to me. “Did you, uh, hear anything we said?”

Brenton looked amused, grinning from ear to ear, deep dimples lounging on his cheeks. Oh, how I loved those dimples!

“No, no, no, I didn't hear a thing,” he answered promptly, his eyes flicking from me back to Kora. “I mean, all that about Kevin having massive muscles and being a hottie didn't catch my attention at all.” He snickered, wagging his eyebrows at Kora.

Kora's face turned as red as a fireball. “Brenton, please. Don't say anything...”

Brenton laughed, backing up and throwing his hands in the air. “Hey, no worries. It's none of my business. But just so you know,” he leaned in close, “Kevin is very fragile and delicate when he's off the football field, so you have to be gentle. Especially since you're not as, well,
delicate
.”

“Brenton, please.” I rolled my eyes.

Kora's neck was now bright red, embarrassment and anger flaring in her eyes. “Clarity, your boyfriend's gettin' on my nerves.”

“Kora, settle down,” I told her, patting her back. “He's only kidding. Right, Brenton?” He smirked at Kora. “R
ight
, Brenton?”

After a moment he replied, “Right. Don't worry, Kora, your secret's safe with me.”

“Thanks, Brenton,” Kora breathed, her body relaxing.

Brenton looked at her thoughtfully, almost childlike. “Just be careful with his massive muscles—he'll need them this year when we play Central.” Brenton laughed. I tried keeping a straight face but lost it in the end; I laughed with Brenton. Kora did not find it as amusing, blatantly flustered.

“You guys suck,” she muttered, walking away.

“Kora, I'm sorry!” I called after her.

“Yeah, just messin' with ya!” Brenton added. “Don't be so sensitive.”

She stopped, turning to face us with a quirky grin. “Don't worry about my sensitivity—a few beers will take care of that. Just go do whatever you two...do.” On that note she walked through the doors of the barn.

“Don't drink too much!” I yelled. “I don't feel like cleaning up anymore puke today.”

Brenton looked confused. “Any
more
puke?”

“Long story.”

“Okay.” Brenton stared down at me, his hands in his pockets. “So, little Kora likes Kevin. I take it she and Nick are broken up?” I nodded, keeping him updated. “Hmm, she would be a terrific first girlfriend for him, unless she scared him too much.” He was being sarcastic, of course. He stared after her who, strangely enough, was talking to a blushing Kevin.

I stared at Brenton staring toward the barn. Then I noticed how
hawt
he was looking. The black shirt he was wearing hung perfectly over his broad shoulders, and his jeans fit terrifically in all the right places. His light brown hair was styled just the way I liked, all tousled and messy. He was handsome, gorgeous, sweet, and manly all rolled in to one. And he was all mine.

Brenton caught me staring. “Yoo-hoo, Clarity! Whatcha thinkin' about?” Waving a hand in front of my face, he broke me free from my lovesick trance. I shook my head.

“Yeah. Sorry. Been a long day. Casey and Janey called in sick and I was left doing double at work. It was a crazy day.”

He sneered. “Sounds like them. They can't help it, though. Slacker genes run deeply in their families.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Casey had been our friend since grade school, Janey since our freshman year. He was like a brother to me, Janey like a sister. But being their coworker sucked because they were always calling in, leaving me to do their work. Also, they took breaks together, making out in the stockroom for thirty minutes at a time (they'd been an item for two years). All in all, though, I liked them both.

I squeezed Brenton's hand. “I'm glad I'm here with you.”

He squeezed my hand back. Looking at the barn and all the chaos, he forced a smile. He didn't know that I knew, but he hated parties. He was more of a dinner and movie type of guy, or a picnic and a swim.

“And we find ourselves yet again at another meaningless party. Who'd a thunk it?” Sighing, he started pulling me to the door. We went a couple of steps before I stopped and tugged his hand.

“What is it?” he asked.

“You really hate parties, don't ya?”

He grimaced slightly, then quickly recovered, eyes on the ground. “Does it show or something?”

I shrugged. “Sorta.” He looked at me with eyes that read “sorry”. “How 'bout this? Before we go inside, let's go for a walk. You know, fresh air, no people or music. Just us.”
Also so I can be with you alone without drunk people hanging out with us—so I can tell you something important.
Of course I didn't say that. I'm too big a wuss.

Like a curtain falling after a show, relief cascaded down his face.

“That would be awesome!”

Walking hand-in-hand we walked passed the barn, passed the bonfire, and into an open field with bales of hay spread as far as the eye could see. I was looking for a place that was private, somewhere we could talk and hide from drunken idiots. I saw couples making out right behind the barn, letting me know that we would have to get farther away.

Making a fast decision I told him, “Catch me if ya can!” I dropped his hand and started running, leaving him in wonderment.

“What are you doin'?” he called after me.

I turned my head, continuing to run. “It's a bale race, silly! Get movin'!” I giggled crazily.

For those who don't know what a bale race is, I'll explain. You see, here in Garlandton we kids don't have much to do, especially when you're elementary school age. When Brenton and I were seven we made up a game to pass the time, calling it “Bale Racin'”. All you do is find a bale of hay, say ready set go, and run as fast as you can. Whoever reaches the top of the hay bale first, wins. Yeah. I know. Pretty stupid. But here in the sticks there are not many playgrounds; we made the fields our playgrounds. Even me at seventeen (Brenton's eighteen) can enjoy a little hay bale action.

“HA!” I cried triumphantly as I reached the top of the hay.

Brenton was gasping, totally winded.

“I...let...you win,” he managed to say breathlessly, climbing up the bale and sitting next to me.

I snorted. “Yeah. Whatever.”

We sat on top of the hay, sitting so close our legs touched. A funny feeling always edged its way into my stomach when Brenton and I touched. I've really got it bad for him. Just the way he smells alone drives me wild!

Looking up at the stars, trying to distract myself from the weird tummy issue, I was amazed at how perfect they looked hanging in the black sky. The moon was a bright shiny ball in the air, illuminating the fields, the bales of hay—everything. Frogs were croaking in the background in hopes of finding a little romance. Yes, a romantic, magical night; a perfect night for love (or saying you love someone).

A few quiet seconds passed before I asked, “So, you ready for school?”

“Nah. You?”

“I'm ready to get it over with,” I said with a sigh. He chuckled beside me. I stared dreamily at the stars. “I'm ready to graduate high school, then tell everyone in this town to shove it, and get on with my life. I want to graduate from college, live in a high rise in New York City, or a beach house in California. Maybe relocate to another country. The sky's the limit!” I really did hate this town. Too many memories. Too many
bad
memories.

He cleared his throat. “You really hate it here, don't you?”

I shook my head. “Nah,” I lied, “There are certain things I love here.” I tensed a bit, wondering if he had caught my drift. Wondering if he felt the same.

“You're ready to get away from me, aren't you?” he insisted, catching the opposite of my drift. “Man, I must really suck! We've only been dating for three months and—”

“Wait!” I interposed. “You gotta go with me.”

“Really?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” I looked into his eyes. “You're the only good thing that's ever happened to me.” I paused. “I need you in my life,” I whispered.

I did not know if it was for real or my imagination, but it felt like his body tensed beside me. Maybe he didn't feel the same as me. Maybe after three months he had decided that I really wasn't his type, that we made better friends than a couple.

“Um, Clarity. Listen, I...” he began, and then looked away, nervously running his fingers through his hair.

I swallowed, deciding to get it over with. “Brenton, there's something I want to say.” He turned back to me. “Brenton. I—”

Before I could finish my sentence a loud crash echoed through the night air, followed by laughter. My moment of truth was destroyed by some losers breaking meaningless crap in a run-downed barn.

“Wow,” I muttered, “I wonder what happ—” Brenton stopped me mid-sentence, taking my face in his hands and pressing his lips to mine. I wanted to stop, to pull back and get those three little words out before I lost my nerve. But at that moment, everything, for the first time in forever, seemed perfect. Like pieces of a puzzle falling into their designed places.

Instead of breaking away from possibly the best kiss I've ever experienced, I melted into it until I was completely dissolved into him. I shivered as he ran his fingers through my hair, gripping the back of my head to keep me in place. The cologne he was wearing was tantalizing, and his mouth tasted of sweet peppermint.

After a couple of spine tingling minutes, we broke our kiss, foreheads touching. My eyes had closed when the kiss started, and I kept them closed so I could stay enthralled in the moment of sweet bliss. I could feel Brenton's eyes on me, memorizing my face.

“I know what you were about to say,” he told me in a low, sexy voice.

I opened my eyes, staring at his lips. “No, you don't.”

Against my lips he said, “You were about to say that you love me.”

My heart skipped a beat. “What if that's not what I was going to say?”

“It was.”

“What if I was going to tell you that you have a huge booger hanging out of your nose?”

He threw his head back, laughing. Then his eyes zoned in on mine. “Then I'm really, really gonna be embarrassed.”

I kissed his bottom lip. “I love you,” I whispered.

He sighed, from what, I have not a clue. But it must have been a sigh of joy because he kissed me long and hard after that. When we finally broke free of each other, we were both breathless. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I placed a hand on his chest and felt that his heart was also thrumming.

He took my hand and kissed it, his eyes shining in the moonlight. I stared at him, the boy I loved, and smiled. He gave me that huge dimpled smile I loved so much.

“I love you, Clarity Miller,” he murmured, taking me in his arms, holding me under the flawlessly suspended stars.

Chapter Three

Monday morning sadly arrived, bringing an end to summer. Our freedom licenses had been painfully revoked. It was a sunny, cloudless day for the first day of school. But for the students at Garlandton High, the sunshine could not break through the dark clouds of depression that loomed over the faces of students. Even the teachers appeared crestfallen, wishing they had more time to recuperate before having to teach a bunch of bored, listless teens.

No more staying out till dawn and sleeping till dusk. Only school, work, studying, then back to school, and so on and so forth. At least in my case I was a senior, which eased the pain a little, helping me along the path to sucking it up and getting it done. Graduation day would come and I, like lightening, would bolt to the county line, never looking back.

I could say that I loved everything about this town, but that would make me a liar.

Scanning the small school parking lot I easily found a spot against the fence. The parking places closest to the school were reserved for seniors, the administrators letting us know just how important we were. Yeah, I know it was a minuet honor to possess, but we Garlandtonites took whatever handouts we could get.

As soon as I opened my car door I heard my name flying in the air.

“CLARE-BEAR!”

It was Kora in her singsong voice, running and waving her hands in the air. She was wearing a black blouse, black miniskirt, and fishnet stockings paired with combat boots. The purple hat she wore looked somewhat out of place. In tangible contrast, I was wearing jeans, a white tank top, and a pair of sneakers. My wardrobe was more traditional than Kora's, though I did have a few hoochie-mama outfits for when I was feeling bold and confident.

I eyed her suspiciously. What the snot was her problem? Didn't she know that it was the first day of school, and couldn't she feel the oppression in the air? Didn't she realize she was pushing through a jam of zombified kids?

“Hey, Kor-bear. What up with the hideous hat?” She answered my question by taking it off. “Oh. My. Goodness. You dyed your hair red!”

“Raspberry Blush to be exact,” she noted, running her delicate fingers through her one-inch length hair.