"Never fear! Hotshot Shan is here!" The young boy's voice rang through the air like a wind chime. His sea blue eyes caught mine as he passed by in a rush, his sandy-blonde sidekick in tow. Or maybe Darren was the sidekick. It was so long ago that I can't even remember. Anyhow, my story started in a schoolyard in a town far away from everywhere else, except trouble. Speaking of trouble. . . .
Darren Shan was one of the boys in my class. He wasn't the most popular, but he had his own flock of friends—Alan, Tommy Jones, some other kid from the soccer team and his best friend Steve Leonard. Steve was a tall, skinny, sharp-eyed boy with long, shaggy blonde hair and an attitude to end someone's life. Back then I avoided Steve like the plague. When it came to Darren Shan, he was something different. We had grown up together and were even neighbours—our parents went to the same college and we often celebrated holidays together. That all changed when Steve came into the picture. Darren and I were best friends up until the fifth grade when he befriended Steve and they became inseparable. There was always something about Steve that drew people in (or, in my case, repelled them). He was dark and brooding and downright vile, but that solely depended on how you looked at him.
Claire nudged me in the ribs, pointing towards the black and white checkered soccer-ball that had just plopped down into the dirt in front of my outstretched legs. "Hey, Liza!" called Darren, waving his right hand high in the air. "Pass that over here!"
"No fair, Shan!" spat one of the older boys.
Without a second thought I stood up and launched the ball rolling straight forward to the group of boys playing soccer at the bottom of the hill.
"Thanks!" He waved a hand in the air.
I turned my back to them and flashed Claire a sour look. "You couldn't have passed it over yourself?"
She shrugged her left shoulder, tossing a piece of curly blonde hair over her shoulder. "Does it matter? They were yelling for you." I sat down beside her and continued to watch the rest of the game in silence.
Later in class Darren and Steve were passing a note over my head, making sure to miss me with such accuracy, it was pretty annoying them. Darren's forehead was wrinkled and he rubbed his hands together nervously, waiting for Steve's reply.
I glanced at Steve and noticed him giiiirl you writing on the piece of crumpled up paper. His eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration, his blue eyes scanning over the paper as if he had to choose his words very carefully.
Now I was curious.
Once Steve was finished he held back his paper, admiring whatever it said. He gave Darren a knowing glance before gesturing over my head, following it by tossing the paper ball across the front of my desk instead. The paper rolled over my desk top and then onto the dirt covered floor. Darren's eyes widened and his eyebrows disappeared behind his long bangs when I dipped my head down to retrieve the note. Without so much as a second thought I uncrumpled the note, my green eyes scanning over the blue lines of ink scrawled in messy handwriting:
Steve: So, did you go to the theatre last night?
Darren: Yeah, but I chickened out at the last second and took off.
Steve: You...
I couldn't read the word he wrote there, but I'm still pretty sure it said "Pussy".
Steve: Why don't we go back there tonight?
Darren: Tonight? No way! Something chased me away from there before I could get inside.
Before I could finish reading their conversation, Steve's silver irises were inline with mine. A gruesome smile hung across his gaunt jawline, his teeth resembled fangs for a few seconds before I realized he was talking to me. "Sorry, what did you say?"
He grabbed the note and crumbled it in his trembling fist. He forced a ragged smile onto his lips, showing his teeth in a poorly concealed smile. "Can Darren and I speak with you after school?"
"Sure," I gulped. "No problem."
Big problem. I never should have opened that note.
Steve thrashed me against the wall, shoving his right palm into my shoulder with such force that I actually winced in pain.
"Steve!" Darren snapped, grabbing his best friend by the collar of his dress shirt and all-but hauling him off of me. "Don't hurt her!"
"Why shouldn't I?!" Steve shot back, now turning his bad mood onto Darren. "She read our note without permission!"
I held my hands up in mock surrender. "Hey, you guys were tossing it over my head. What else did you expect me to do?"
"Gee, I don't know? Maybe we thought you were smart enough to mind your own goddamn business?!" Steve snarled.
"Steve!" Darren thumped him on the shoulder.
Steve grumbled something under his breath, but ceased his harassment for the time being, jamming his hands into the pockets of his pants.
"Did you read that entire note?" Darren asked, his head twisting around for a brief second to survey the area.
"No," I said, clutching my brown bookbag so tightly to my chest, I thought the buttons were about to stab through my palms.
"Good," grunted Steve. He grabbed my black necktie, pulling my face closer to his. "And don't you dare think about telling anyone about any of this, got it?"
"Relax, Steve," Darren patted his shoulder. "Eliza's not some sort of tattletale, she'll keep her mouth shut."
"She'd better."
Back then I highly doubted Steve would have tried to hurt me if I had bothered to tell anyone about Darren's little adventure, but if I knew anything about Steve Leonard, it was never to trust him. Ever.
Thankfully he decided to let me off the hook with some choice swearing and rushed off towards his house before I could even get two words in.
I huffed, literally throwing my bag over my left shoulder. "You've really got a knack for picking friends, Darren." I brushed a piece of loose ginger hair from off the back of my neck. My eyes met his as he turned around and his mouth set into a thing line as i glared at him.
"Steve's not all bad," he said, standing up on his bicycle pedals as we worked our way up hill together. "Once you get to know him, you'll see."
"What makes you think I want to get to know Steve Leopard?" I shuddered at Steve's obnoxiously fitting nickname.
Darren's dark eyebrows dipped at the corners, faint lines appearing across his forehead. "You know our—well, my—secret, now. So I think it's safe to say that you, Steve and I could, maybe, become better friends."
I helped him push his bike up the rest of the way, taking the handle bar that was closest to me while he pedalled, though he made sure to keep both hands on the cool metal right hand over overtop of my left, bht neither of us mentioned it. It felt weird to be talking so casually like this. Darren and I haven't exactly been the best of friends outside of the classroom in a few years, so I couldn't shove the feeling of nostalgia welling up inside the pit of my stomach. A sort of happiness that I wasn't used to.
"Yeah," I said, "maybe."
He paused for a second before his cerulean-colored eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. "So...do you want to go back to the theatre with me?"
My mouth twisted up, eyes narrowing into slits of suspicion. "Excuse me? I thought you were too chicken to go back there with Steve? Why would you even consider going with me?"
He got a little nervous, I felt his left hand twitching slightly next to mine on the handle bars just before I let go. We reached our houses after passing over the hill. "Well, I just..."
"Come on, Darren," I coaxed, twisting the straps of my bag. "Spit it out."
"I just miss hanging out together, y'know, like we did when we were kids?"
I bit back a smile. "We still are kids?"
He gave a dramatic gesture towards the setting sun in the distance. "Then what are we waiting for? The world is ours, and it should be illegal to waste such a precious opportunity."
I paused for a second, thinking over my answer very very carefully. "You won't tell Steve? You know he'll just get mad." I stamped my feet, a rush of excitement sweeping through me like a gust of wind.
Darren held out his pinkie. "I won't tell if you won't tell, promise?"
I smiled before locking my pinkie with his. "Cross my heart and hope to die."
I didn't know back then that the promise that we made under that late autumn sky may have sentenced us both to death.