Threads That Bind (Havoc Chronicles Series Book 1) (4 page)

Usually I trusted Amy’s judgment, but this time she was totally off. “He is so not wrapped around my finger. I think he wants to call off the date. Why else would he ask if the date was still on?”

Amy lightly banged her head on the dashboard. “Madison, Madison, Madison. You are truly naïve. He was looking for an excuse to talk to you again.”

“So why ask if the date was still on?”

“He’s a boy. He’s insecure by nature. He just wanted some reassurance, and probably to prove to Mason and Taylor that you were going out.”

I heard her words, but nothing Amy said made any sense to me. “Why would he want to do that? I’m the one who should be worried about whether he wants to go out with me.”

Amy buckled her seatbelt. “You’re still stuck in the past,” she said. “Take a good look in the mirror. You are gorgeous. If anything, you’re out of his league.”

I put on my seat belt and started the car. “What are you talking about? There is no league higher than Josh.”

“Woodbridge is a small pond, my dear,” said Amy. “You won’t be here forever. But until then, enjoy the ride. It’s going to be a year we will never forget.”

I was just changing into my fifth outfit in the last ten minutes when Mom knocked at my bedroom door.

“Madison?”

I glanced into the mirror, adjusting my blouse and smoothing it down. “Come in.”

Mom poked her head through the door. “Josh is here,” she said.

She had that goofy grin she always wore when she talked about Josh. I could tell she had the whole proud-mom thing going on. A few months ago, neither of us thought I would ever go on a date. Now I was going on a third date with Josh.

On our first two dates we had connected in a way that I hadn’t thought possible. We had talked for hours, making up for the lost years since we had been friends. There had been no awkward pauses or lack of conversation. It was as if the past five years hadn’t happened, and we simply picked up where we had left off.

I looked at my watch. He was early, and I hadn’t even decided on an outfit yet. “Ok, stall him. I’ll be down in a minute.”

Mom looked at the clothes strewn around the room. “I would go with the blue one,” she said, pointing at one of the blouses I had discarded on the bed. “It doesn’t wash out your color.” She closed the door behind her before I had a chance to react.

It doesn’t wash out my color? What was that supposed to mean? As opposed to what I was wearing now? Even when she was trying to be helpful, my mom had a way of bringing out my insecurities. Not that it was difficult to do. I may have changed on the outside, but it took more than a few months to overcome a lifetime of experience.

I took a deep breath. It was time to stop obsessing. Josh was downstairs, alone with my parents, and the potential for embarrassment was growing exponentially with each moment I delayed. My dad hadn’t been home the first two times Josh picked me up, so I was pretty sure he was going to make up for the lost opportunities while Josh waited.

I ignored my mom’s fashion advice and threw on a beige sweater. It would have to do. I grabbed my purse, checked it for the essentials, and ran downstairs.

My dad sat on the couch next to my mom, his arms folded, doing his best to look intimidating. Physically it worked, but I knew my dad well enough to tell that this was an act. 

Josh sat in the love seat across the room, looking very uncomfortable. Clearly, my dad’s tough guy act was working.

A look of relief crossed his face when I walked in, and then his eyes lit up as he took a second look at me. I grinned. That was a reaction I could get used to.

I grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door.

“Bye, Mom. Bye, Dad. I’ll be home by curfew.” I pulled Josh out of the house before my dad could make any parting threats. I’d been waiting five years to go out with Josh, and I didn’t want it spoiled by my dad’s misguided notions of proper parental protection. Earlier in the week Dad had talked about buying a shotgun, just so he could be sitting on the front porch cleaning it when Josh came to pick me up. I didn’t think he would actually go to that kind of extreme, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

Josh let me into his car, a new Mustang his parents had given him for his birthday, and then climbed in himself. He was always a gentleman, opening doors and taking my arm as we walked. In a lot of ways he was an old-fashioned kind of boy. I liked that.

I settled into the leather seat as Josh put the car in gear and began driving. Now that we were away from my parents, I could relax and stop worrying about what they were going to say. 

I looked over at Josh, enjoying the opportunity to watch him unobserved while he concentrated on the road. I never got tired of looking at him. He wore his sandy hair a little longer than most of the other kids at Woodbridge High, but style here in the Pacific Northwest was always a bit different from the rest of the world. Especially in a small town like Woodbridge. His brown eyes were large and dark, with long lashes that curled up, and a strong jaw-line. All of his features seemed to fit together perfectly to create the face that I could never get enough of.

He must have felt me staring at him, because he turned his head and glanced at me. “So, where do you want to eat tonight?”

I did my best to keep my expression even. This was a pet peeve of mine. He asked me out - I wanted him to plan the date. Maybe this was an unrealistic expectation born out of years of sitting at home watching romantic movies on the weekends, but I couldn’t help it.

“Oh, I don’t know,” I said. “What sounds good to you?” And so the ‘where to go’ dance began. I didn’t want to make a decision that he might not like, and he was completely unwilling to take the lead. Eventually we settled on a small Mexican restaurant off 3rd Street because it was near the theater where we were going to see the movie later.

The food wasn’t bad; it was the closest thing to authentic Mexican food around. They used lots of fresh vegetables in their dishes, which still tasted delicious to me.

After dinner we went to the movie theater, but being opening weekend, the movie had sold out. Nothing else at the theater looked good, and I was afraid that we were going to have to go through another round of ‘what do you want to do?’ but Josh surprised me.

“Do you want to go to the Riverside Trail?” he asked.

I had heard plenty of stories about what went on at Riverside Trail. It was a nice paved path along the river on the east side of town, but it was also very secluded with plenty of places along the trail to find some privacy.

I hesitated. Did I want to be alone with Josh? And what was he expecting?

He must have sensed my discomfort. “Just to walk, I mean,” he said, blushing. It was his cute blush that won me over - a gentleman’s blush.

“Sure,” I said. “Let’s go.”

***

The feeling I had as we pulled into the parking lot at Riverside Trail was nothing short of surreal. Was I really here – with Josh? Me? A few months ago, I would never have believed it possible.

Josh opened my door for me and held out his arm. I briefly debated taking my purse - it held the EpiPen that I kept because of a severe allergy to bee stings – but I decided the inconvenience of taking my purse outweighed the minimal odds of getting stung, and I left it in the car. I slipped my arm in his and together we strolled down the path, mostly in silence. It was a typically beautiful Northwest late summer evening. The sky was clear, and the stars visible through the gaps in the tall trees. The moon was out, not quite full, but bright enough to cast shadows as we walked. Occasionally, as the path followed the course of the river, it would turn and the moon would be reflected on the surface of the water. It was beautiful, almost breath-taking.

Several times we passed other couples walking back the other way, but for the most part we were alone.

Josh adjusted his arm, pulling me in closer. That was something I wanted to encourage. Feeling brave, I leaned in and rested my head on his shoulder as we walked. “What are you thinking about?” I asked.

“You don’t want to know,” he said.

“Sure I do.”

He shook his head. “Nothing, really. I was just letting my mind wander. It’s relaxing being with you, and I was just enjoying the moment.”

I chuckled. “What a total cop out. But I do like that you feel relaxed around me.” Which was partially true. Yes, I wanted him to be relaxed, but the part of me that had watched too many movies wanted him to be so nervous he could hardly make a coherent sentence. Was that too much to ask? Ok, probably. But the fact that he didn’t seem at all nervous made me wonder how much he really liked me.

“What about you,” he asked. “What deep and profound thoughts are you currently experiencing?”

I shook my head and wagged a finger at him. “Oh, no, the secrets of the female mind are not so easily obtained.”

Josh stopped and pulled me close, putting both his arms around me. “They’re not, huh? Just how are these... secrets obtained?”

“You have to earn them,” I said, breathing in deep, enjoying his scent and the feel of his arms around me. I reached my arms around him and put my head on his chest. This felt good. It felt safe. I could have stayed like that for years. This was what I had been fantasizing about for the past five years.

He reached a hand up and stroked my hair. It sent shivers down my back. “Earn them, huh?” he said. “By doing what?”

“Oh, it’s not difficult to earn a female’s secrets,” I said. I pulled back a little and smiled at him. “All you have to do is to know us so well, be so focused on our emotional needs, so invested in the relationship that you instinctively know what we are thinking, without having to be told.”

Josh laughed. “Oh, is that all? And to think I thought it would be difficult.” He leaned in, his face only a few inches from mine. “Am I focused enough?” he asked.

It suddenly became very hard to breathe. My heart began to pump faster as the realization of what was happening began to sink in.

He was going to kiss me.

Was I ready for this? Of course not. How could I possibly be ready for something this monumental? Wasn’t he breaking some sort of unwritten dating rule by kissing me before even holding my hand? I mean, yeah, a kiss on the third date wasn’t setting any speed records, but this was taking me completely by surprise.

As Josh leaned towards me, my heart began pounding in overdrive. I began to understand what people meant when they said that they felt like their heart was going to break out of their chest – mine felt like it was going for some sort of Olympic jumping record. He closed his eyes, pressed his lips to mine - and the world exploded into color.     

It was like a veil had been pulled from my face and everything was suddenly clear. The colors all around me, the greens and browns of the trees, the pale yellow of the moon, the blue of Josh’s shirt became intense and bright. It was as if I had never seen real colors before, only the weak shadows of them, and now I was seeing the real thing.

Thousands of sounds that had previously been inaudible flooded my ears. A hundred scents assaulted me, all jumbled together, but dominated by the glorious smell of Josh. Not the cologne he was wearing, although I could smell that too, but a scent underneath, more subtle, intoxicating, alluring.

But it was the feel of Josh’s lips on mine that overwhelmed me. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation. It was electrifying. Exhilarating. I didn’t want it to ever stop.

No sooner had I began to enjoy the kiss than Josh pulled back. I opened my eyes and saw that his face was a mask of fear, his eyes wide and horrified. “What’s happening?” he said.

Completely baffled by his reaction – was I that bad of a kisser? - I looked down at myself and saw, a bright light surrounding me, enveloping me so completely that I couldn’t even see the color of my clothing. I was glowing. What was wrong with me?

Seeking comfort, I grabbed for his hand. Something crunched, and he screamed, clutching at my wrist. Instinctively, I let go and pushed myself away from Josh, only to send him flying. He flew ten feet through the air, arms flailing, and smashed into a tree with a sickening thud. His limp body slid down the trunk and collapsed into a heap on the ground.

I held up my hand, horrified at what I had done. I wanted to run to him, to see if he was all right, but I didn’t dare. What if I hurt him more? What if he was already dead?

I stumbled to the river and peered into the water. My reflection was choppy, but with my enhanced vision I could see that I was glowing from head to toe, a brilliant white light surrounding me.

What was happening to me?

I turned back to Josh and saw him beginning to move. He was alive! I started toward him, but he raised a hand to stop me.

“Keep away from me!” he said. He pushed himself up until he sat up with his back against the tree and cradled his crushed hand with his good one. His whole body trembled and his eyes were wide with terror.