At the beginning of the next day, I headed down to the garage. An irate blush spread across my cheeks at the thought of Michael's stolen motorcycle. But, I thought, he deserved it.
I wandered past Grandpa's truck, moodily wondering how I could get it to look like the bike had been stolen from the house and not the boardwalk. As it turns out, I didn't need to. The bike was propped up against its usual spot on the far wall, as if no one had taken it out last night at all.
My mind starting running through all sorts of possibilities, but none of them fit. Did Michael realize I'd taken his bike and took it back when I wasn't paying attention? Or was all of last night just a part of my dream?
No, that couldn't be right; otherwise I'd have the date wrong. A day had definitely passed since I'd had my dream. How . . . weird. But as long as the bike was back, Michael couldn't have a go at me, which was all that mattered at that moment. Well . . . I guessed there was no harm in taking the bike out again . . . was there? Anyway, I didn't need to borrow it yet. I'd figured from previous experiences that David and the gang weren't morning-type people, so it would probably be better to go later. I'd have to find something to entertain me until it was time, I guess.
And so the rest of the day passed without much animation. As usual, Mike was in bed until about five in the afternoon, but I didn't mind. I asked Lucy if I could go to the boardwalk before he got up, so as not to raise any suspicion from him. Luckily – she let me go. It was about nine 'o' clock that I headed out to the garage to borrow Michael's bike again. It started up as easily as last time, and I was speeding off down the highway in an instant.
And although I got there much later that time, it took them longer to arrive than I'd bargained for. At about eleven, after many deliberations on whether or not just to pack up and head home, I caught sight of David and his pals – in a fight with three burly-looking men who seemed extremely pissed about something.
As usual, David was clad in black and wearing his favourite trench-coat, which made me smile – did he ever take it off?
But my attention was diverted immediately; the fight was more serious than I'd previously thought. One of them had just taken a swing at David, making my heart skip a beat, and another had just lunged for the small curly-haired one who was in with him. Luckily though, David ducked – if he hadn't, the guy probably would have taken his head off. And then he walked right up to the man and landed a punch of his own. But just as I saw him drawing his arm back, the guy he was fighting with was sprawled on the floor, blood trickling from his nose. It appeared broken.
David's trademark smirk appeared on his lips as the other guys backed off with looks of surprised fear on their faces, hands up in surrender. I wondered how one teenager was able to scare off three other men with a single punch. But it didn't matter to me right then.
"What the hell?" I yelled, storming up to David.
For once he looked surprised to see me. "Becca," he said, his voice a few octaves higher than normal.
"What were you thinking, starting a fight with them? You could have got hurt; they were about ten times the size of you!"
He seemed even more surprised at my concern for his wellbeing, but then, so was I. "They started it,"
He sounded so much like a kid making excuses to his parents that I almost laughed. I just managed to hold it back though – I needed to save my breath for my rant.
"I don't care who started it! It was stupid and reckless of you, and you should know better than to –"
Suddenly, one of his pals burst out laughing, obviously finding mine and David's predicament hilarious. I glared at him.
"Shut up, Paul!" David snapped, the tiniest hint of a blush in his pale cheeks.
The one called Paul didn't shut up, but instead laughed even louder than before until his whole body was shaking with it. David growled but didn't hit him or anything, which I thought was an achievement.
"Forget it," I mumbled, scowling in Paul's direction with as much hate as I could muster. He seemed to find this even funnier.
"So why are you here?" asked David, and I could tell he was trying to distract my attention from Paul.
"Oh, what, am I not allowed to come to the boardwalk now? I'm just hanging out, like everyone else does. Why else would I come here?"
He surveyed me with those icy blue eyes, before responding: "I don't know,"
And then: "Hey," the one with curly hair spoke up, "Why don't you come back to our place? There's no fun in just standing here."
I looked at David. "Alright – I don't mind."
David gave the short guy a warning glance. "Let's go, then." he said, but his voice was darker than before.
We started to head towards the exit. The curly-haired one jogged over to me and David, and winked at me. "I'm Marko, by the way."
"Hi," I said. This kid – the youngest of them, I could tell – seemed to be the friendliest of the four.
"That guy's Dwayne – he doesn't speak much," Marko told me.
I nodded. "I noticed."
"Are you riding with me?" asked David, "Or are you taking Michael's bike?"
"I'll –" I cut off. "Hey, how do you know I've got his bike?"
He looked at me sheepishly. "I guessed," was all he said.
I harrumphed but let it go. "I'll ride with you."
"Okay,"
I could tell he was smirking, but I ignored him and glared at the ground instead. When we reached the bikes, I automatically climbed on after David without being told, and he started up the engine. I had no idea where we were going – but I couldn't help but notice how Marko said 'our' when he was talking about going back to his place. The idea of them all living together was weird . . . didn't they have a family, or something?
It was only when we started to get further away from town and closer to the seaside cliffs that I began to worry.
"Where are we going?" I yelled to David over the roar of the bikes.
He stopped hollering and shouting for a second to answer me. "It's not far,"
And that was the best answer I could get out of him. I could feel a grin spread across my face as he sped up, surpassing the rest of the boys and tailing off down a narrow, sandy track. Further behind, I heard three more engines accelerate, and the yells and shrieks mounted with them. I let out one wild laugh myself – I'd mentioned that I didn't like bikes, but honestly? This was the most fun I'd had in ages.
We started to slow down as we reached the edge of the cliff, which scared the hell out of me – I was terrified of heights, especially when if you fall the only thing to greet you at the bottom is sharp rocks and certain death. But I pretended to be indifferent towards the crashing water below. To keep my mind off the cliff, I looked around. There was metal fencing and a bunch of signs reading various warnings, but all with the same basic message: keep out or you'll die. Some place.
"Erm, are we here?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant as I hopped off the bike.
David wasn't fooled, and he laughed. "Yep, but it's better on the inside than out, trust me."
I saw the tall dark-haired one give him a weird glance. He looked like he was confused about something, but I shrugged it off with a shake of my head. David took my hand and towed me into an opening in the rocks to the side of us. He lived in a cave? Well, that explained where his attitude came from. Perhaps he was raised by wild dogs.
And then, at the end of the tunnel, I saw light up ahead. He dragged me further into the cave, and I found myself in what appeared to be a hotel. Well, a trashed hotel to say the least. There were several braziers in the room, each holding a small fire inside, and the furniture was mismatched and dusty. An old chandelier was in the middle of the place, looking oddly out of place in the shabby scenario.
"Wow," I whispered.
This was more than I'd anticipated, and weirdly . . . I thought it was pretty cool. I wondered, though . . . did they have showers in this place? I couldn't think of where they could fit them. But knowing David, I figured anything was possible.
"You live here?" I asked in awe.
He seemed pleased at my approval. "Yep. Used to be a hotel, but they built it right on the fault line. So when the earthquake came eighty-five years ago, this place just got swallowed up into the ground . . . and now –" he gestured around the room with a sweeping motion, "– It's ours."
"Cool," was all I could say.
And then I noticed movement in the furthest corner of the room – Star was standing there, eyeing us curiously with a weird look on her face. She was looking right at me, and I noticed a strange resemblance with the expression she was wearing now to the one she wore in my dream. Creepy.
But I ignored it. "Hey . . . Star."
Her lips twisted into a tight smile. "Rebecca."
Hm. I guess Michael told her about me. And then she looked away from me to glare at David. I could see that she was trying to tell him something with her eyes, but I couldn't be sure what it was. Like she was begging him, and yet scolding him at the same time. He just shook his head and glared back at her.
"You hungry?" Paul had walked up behind us.
I shrugged. "A little,"
"Go get some food for our guest, Marko. She's hungry." He clicked his fingers to prove his point, and I noticed how he over-exaggerated the word 'guest'.
I frowned. Marko did as he was told, and went off into an adjacent room. David towed me over to one of the many tattered couches and we sat down, both watching as Marko entered the room again with a few white boxes stacked in his arms. Paul and Dwayne flopped down onto nearby chairs, and Marko gave some of the food to David before seating himself in his own chair.
"You like Chinese?" He asked, offering me a box.
"Uh, sure." I didn't mind it.
Star walked forward then, eyeing David in a strange way before seating herself carefully on the armrest of a chair. She then glanced at the food in my hand and back again. Marko threw us all a pair of chopsticks, and I opened the box, inspecting the contents.
Noodles. David opened his own box, and began to eat. I noticed that no one started to eat before he did, and that Star didn't have any food, which made me feel kind of guilty. But before I could offer her any of mine, David looked at me.
"Are you going to eat that?"
"Yeah, just thinking of something . . ." I shook my head and picked up some noodles.
They didn't taste bad, but I noticed that everyone was staring at me as if they couldn't believe what I'd just done. I glanced into the box, just to make sure I hadn't mistaken the provisions, and saw that they were just what I thought they were . . . noodles. So why was everyone looking at me that way? I noticed David was the only one that wasn't.
"What?" I asked, and looked into the box again. Still noodles. I hoped they weren't poisoned.
I then looked at Star, whose eyebrows had risen so high on her forehead they'd almost disappeared under her bushy hair. She was now staring at David disbelievingly, as if he'd just done something she never would have thought possible. The three others were just the same, gaping at me and David as if he'd just proposed to me.
"They aren't . . ." Dwayne said; the first time I'd heard him speak. "They aren't worms?"
"What do you mean, 'they aren't worms?'" I stared into the box, looking for any sign of the insects, but couldn't find any.
"Oh, real funny, guys. You fooled me." I rolled my eyes.
I glanced at David who was looking so smug that I was surprised no one had hit him yet.
"What have you put in my food?" I asked warily.
"Nothing. Does it taste like I've put anything in your food?"
"No . . . but why are they saying there are worms in here?" I prodded the noodles suspiciously.
"They're just tired, that's all. They come out with some strange stuff at this time."
"Right," I continued to eat the noodles.
When I'd finished, and everyone seemed almost back to normal – their kind of 'normal', anyway – Marko stood up.
"Are you thirsty?" he said, looking at me with a funny expression on his face.
But before I could respond, David had risen and lobbed his chopsticks right at Marko, who ducked to avoid the missiles. He sat back down guiltily.
"What was that about?" I asked incredulously.
"Nothing," growled David.
But one look at his face told me that 'nothing' was the wrong word to use. It seemed like the adequate word for the situation would be 'everything'.
"If you don't mind, Marko, would you go and fetch some water for Rebecca."
Marko silently obeyed, probably noticing how David had snarled the command and how he had emphasised the word 'water'. His face reddened slightly.
"I'm not that thirsty . . ." I murmured, so just David could hear me.
But I still drank the water when Marko brought it, just because I felt sorry for the guy. I still didn't know why David had thrown the chopsticks at him.
"You up for another ride, or do you want to go home? He asked.
"I think . . ." I said, considering. "I think another ride would suit me just fine."
The smile that spread across David's face encouraged me further – I was sure that if Michael found out about this, he was going to be very, very pissed off.
And that was why I was here, right?