My little stepbrother, a geek to the core, pushed open my door, without
knocking even. I glanced at him quickly with a "I've been caught in the
act" expression. His eyes widened. 'Sorry, were you, um. busy?' he asked
nervously, shuffling, his ears going pink.
'What? Oh, nah,' I waved my hand, looking nastily at my Dad. David, a.k.a. Doc, will never know how much I owe him. He had just saved me from the protective lecture of my father, who, annoyed, dematerialized, with promises that I hadn't heard the last of him.
Doc ran a thin, white hand through his odd, spiky red hair. 'Ah, Suze, I've been really bothered, you know. I found this in a book I was reading, one I got from Father Dom's library at school, and-'
'What are you on about?' I interrupted.
'Oh, um. well, I know this person, but I can't think.' Words not helping anymore, he shoved a photograph glued onto cardboard at me.
I stared.
It was fairly old, I mean, black and white. It was a picture of a really good-looking guy of about eighteen, with really light blue eyes. He was sitting in an armchair in what looked like an olden day living room, smiling into the camera-
-But I had more concern for the girl who was next to him. I recognized those black waves, those
It was Bessie, the ghost who'd just visited me.
'Whoa,' I said, forgetting Doc was there.
'You recognize him?' he asked excitedly, 'Who is it, Suze?'
Oops.
'Sorry, Doc. I mean, David-' he blushed at my moniker, '-I was just surprised at how old this was.'
'Why?' he asked curiously. 'How can you tell?'
'It's black and white,' I answered.
He rolled his eyes, and looked at me knowingly. 'Well, of course it is. Old, I mean. Judging from the furniture in there,' he explained, sounding a lot like one of my teachers, 'You know, the sewing machine, and the style of the lounge, I'd say it was about 1960s?'
'You'd know,' I said.
He grinned with embarrassment. 'Well, it's obv-'
'Doc, can I keep this?' I asked.
'What? Oh, sure. If you figure out who the dude-' he smiled -why he was trying to use words like "dude and "chic" and "babe" lately was way beyond me- 'is, tell us, okay? Okay, Suze? Be-'
'Okay, Doc,' I said, not bothering to call him David. It was kind of a habit now, and he didn't seem to mind. The corner of his mouth twitched.
'See ya, Suze,' he said, and winked.
Yes, you read the right. winked.
Once he had gone, I gave an almighty laugh.
~*~
'Suze, pass the cheese?' asked Andy stiffly.
I handed Andy, my step-dad, the bowl of grated cheese. It was dinner, and we were having tacos. Andy was really pissed, because our table was missing one of our number. And, ironically, it was Doc.
'Where is he?' snapped Andy, glaring at where Doc should have been sitting. 'It's not like him to miss dinner, especially tacos. That'd be something I'd expect from you, Suze,' he said.
'Thanks,' I said, annoyed.
I bit into my taco, and much to my aggravation, the shell snapped, and the gooey salsa, lettuce, sour cream, tomato and mince meat oozed onto my plate. I carefully licked it up, and saw my family having the same difficulty. Dopey, a.k.a. Brad, astoundingly, was the neatest, as he demolished his tacos in three quick bites, having no time for the contents to fall out. I gaped at his never-to-be-repeated tidiness. What a rare sight. It should be the eighth wonder of the world.
'Sorry!'
Doc dashed in, and leapt on his seat, panting. His flaming hair was sticking up, and he was looking very ruffled. He began to help himself to a taco.
'Hands off, young man. Where do you think you were, not letting me know, letting this good food get cold?' Andy sounded deadly. We all stopped eating, waiting to hear Doc's excuse.
He blushed. 'I was working on my science project, creating a moving vehicle, powered exclusively by a mousetrap, the one that is due soon,' he said very quickly, which was a it weird. Sure, he's smart, Doc, but he doesn't talk quick. Talking quick isn't a sign of intelligence. Believe, me, I'd know.
'Who were you working with?' demanded Andy. My mum frowned at his tone. Doc reddened further. 'Just, um, a person from my class, Shannon.'
'Shannon?' asked Sleepy. 'Dude, or chic?'
'Dude,' said Doc promptly. Too promptly.
But Andy chose to let it go. He looked at his beet red son for a further minute, then went back to his taco.
'Don't let it happen again,' he said gruffly. I think he was a bit shocked that his genius of a son had, for the first time in his life, (as far as I know,) been late for dinner.
We were all a bit stunned.
Doc wouldn't look me in the eye. Why not? Suddenly, a very strange idea occurred to me. Nah, not possible. or was it?
~*~
I must have fallen asleep. I mean, I'm pretty sure I did, because I was dreaming. I was trying not too, in case, you know, Jesse popped in for a visit from the rectory, but I failed, and there I was, snoozing. That's willpower for you, huh?
. . . Before my eyes swirled visions of the Shadowland. Smoky wisps swirled before my eyes. I was in that very same corridor I'd seen that day. Darkness and fog obscured my vision. My heart was pounding loudly, and I felt as though it would wake the dead. Which, in Shadowland, isn't a good thing. Not that the dead sleep much.
I ran down the corridor. The fog snagged at my legs, as if trying to pull me back. Soon, it was thick and heavy around me. I was trapped.
All of a sudden, a hand caught mine. I screamed.
'Well, fancy meeting you here?' asked Paul Slater merrily. One tug and I fell into his arms. The fog swirled around us both. I was so cold.
'Let me go,' I said, which was really weird, as I was making no effort to get away. Paul seemed to be providing me warmth.
'Why would I do that? This is one of the only places where you can't run from me,' he said nastily, his hand working up my back. Um, freaky!
'Paul.' Now I was trying to get away. I struggled, but he grabbed my wrists, and slammed me against one of those doors. I seriously hoped that he didn't push me through.
Squashed against the door, I was really worried. He forced my wrists above my head, and tried to kiss me. I turned my head, and kneed upwards. No effect? How rude! What a stupid dream!
'Suze, you aren't dreaming,' he said. Huh?
'Course I am.'
'No, you're not. This is really me here. You have shifted. Very convenient for me,' he added with a smile, those icy eyes so close to mine. In the darks, they seemed to be burning.
I was so cold! He transferred one of my wrists to his other hand, so it imprisoned both, and his free arm slipped behind my back, pushing me against him.
Charming.
'Paul!' I hissed, 'Stop it! Stop it now!' This was scaring me now. The density of the fog was threatening to suffocate me. I shivered uncontrollably now.
He was kissing me again, kind of on my neck and just below me ear. Why me? Why did me always come after me?
It's okay, Suze, it's just a dream-
'You can think that if you like,' he said amid kisses, 'but it's not. This is very real.'
I had a brainwave. 'If so,' I said, 'then see ya.'
And I shifted.
~*~ 'Querida, wake up.'
Mmm.
'Susannah!' My eyes snapped open angrily. Latino hotness swam into view. Jesse's eyes were glaring into mine, dark and liquidy. His gorgeous face was outlined sharply in the moonlight.
'Huh? Whaddoyawant?' I asked groggily. 'God, Jesse, did ya have to wake me up? I was sleeping.'
'That,' he replied, 'was obvious.'
I turned over.
'Oh, no you don't,' he flipped em back to face him. It was weird, and sent a certain thrill through me. I liked being bossed around by Jesse. but not all the time.
'Jesse, I'm tired. I want to go back to.' I broke off, remembering the dream I'd been having. That was when the headache struck.
'Ah, Crikey!' I yelled, sitting up fast, and clutching me head. 'Paul was right!' 'Paul?' he asked stiffly, 'What about him?'
'Oh.nothing.' I said quickly. Oooh, that headache was rocketing. My head was fit to burst.
'Jesse,' I said desperately, 'Not the time, come back later?'
'No,' he said, 'This is important.' Geez, my head was swimming at the pain. My eyes prickled nastily.
'Querida, you're crying!' gasped Jesse. I didn't blame him. I don't usually cry, unless he's like, dying, or forcing me to confess my love, or something like that. Or if badass Paul has framed me. Then, very rewardingly, he pulled my head into his chest. My ear was sitting on those hard muscles warmly, my blankets twisted around my legs.
'What is it?' he asked, concerned. Maybe. maybe he did love me?
'Nothing, killer headache,' I said honestly. Well, not the "nothing" bit, but oh well. He stroked my hair, and a thrill identical to the previous one shot through me. Then, he remembered he was avoiding coming into contact with me, and pushed me unceremoniously back onto the bed.
A prince he is, really.
'Susannah,' he said. 'I don't know if you have anything to do with this, but certain people have been following me.'
Whoa! Someone stalking Jesse? Intriguing.
'What? Oh, nah,' I waved my hand, looking nastily at my Dad. David, a.k.a. Doc, will never know how much I owe him. He had just saved me from the protective lecture of my father, who, annoyed, dematerialized, with promises that I hadn't heard the last of him.
Doc ran a thin, white hand through his odd, spiky red hair. 'Ah, Suze, I've been really bothered, you know. I found this in a book I was reading, one I got from Father Dom's library at school, and-'
'What are you on about?' I interrupted.
'Oh, um. well, I know this person, but I can't think.' Words not helping anymore, he shoved a photograph glued onto cardboard at me.
I stared.
It was fairly old, I mean, black and white. It was a picture of a really good-looking guy of about eighteen, with really light blue eyes. He was sitting in an armchair in what looked like an olden day living room, smiling into the camera-
-But I had more concern for the girl who was next to him. I recognized those black waves, those
It was Bessie, the ghost who'd just visited me.
'Whoa,' I said, forgetting Doc was there.
'You recognize him?' he asked excitedly, 'Who is it, Suze?'
Oops.
'Sorry, Doc. I mean, David-' he blushed at my moniker, '-I was just surprised at how old this was.'
'Why?' he asked curiously. 'How can you tell?'
'It's black and white,' I answered.
He rolled his eyes, and looked at me knowingly. 'Well, of course it is. Old, I mean. Judging from the furniture in there,' he explained, sounding a lot like one of my teachers, 'You know, the sewing machine, and the style of the lounge, I'd say it was about 1960s?'
'You'd know,' I said.
He grinned with embarrassment. 'Well, it's obv-'
'Doc, can I keep this?' I asked.
'What? Oh, sure. If you figure out who the dude-' he smiled -why he was trying to use words like "dude and "chic" and "babe" lately was way beyond me- 'is, tell us, okay? Okay, Suze? Be-'
'Okay, Doc,' I said, not bothering to call him David. It was kind of a habit now, and he didn't seem to mind. The corner of his mouth twitched.
'See ya, Suze,' he said, and winked.
Yes, you read the right. winked.
Once he had gone, I gave an almighty laugh.
~*~
'Suze, pass the cheese?' asked Andy stiffly.
I handed Andy, my step-dad, the bowl of grated cheese. It was dinner, and we were having tacos. Andy was really pissed, because our table was missing one of our number. And, ironically, it was Doc.
'Where is he?' snapped Andy, glaring at where Doc should have been sitting. 'It's not like him to miss dinner, especially tacos. That'd be something I'd expect from you, Suze,' he said.
'Thanks,' I said, annoyed.
I bit into my taco, and much to my aggravation, the shell snapped, and the gooey salsa, lettuce, sour cream, tomato and mince meat oozed onto my plate. I carefully licked it up, and saw my family having the same difficulty. Dopey, a.k.a. Brad, astoundingly, was the neatest, as he demolished his tacos in three quick bites, having no time for the contents to fall out. I gaped at his never-to-be-repeated tidiness. What a rare sight. It should be the eighth wonder of the world.
'Sorry!'
Doc dashed in, and leapt on his seat, panting. His flaming hair was sticking up, and he was looking very ruffled. He began to help himself to a taco.
'Hands off, young man. Where do you think you were, not letting me know, letting this good food get cold?' Andy sounded deadly. We all stopped eating, waiting to hear Doc's excuse.
He blushed. 'I was working on my science project, creating a moving vehicle, powered exclusively by a mousetrap, the one that is due soon,' he said very quickly, which was a it weird. Sure, he's smart, Doc, but he doesn't talk quick. Talking quick isn't a sign of intelligence. Believe, me, I'd know.
'Who were you working with?' demanded Andy. My mum frowned at his tone. Doc reddened further. 'Just, um, a person from my class, Shannon.'
'Shannon?' asked Sleepy. 'Dude, or chic?'
'Dude,' said Doc promptly. Too promptly.
But Andy chose to let it go. He looked at his beet red son for a further minute, then went back to his taco.
'Don't let it happen again,' he said gruffly. I think he was a bit shocked that his genius of a son had, for the first time in his life, (as far as I know,) been late for dinner.
We were all a bit stunned.
Doc wouldn't look me in the eye. Why not? Suddenly, a very strange idea occurred to me. Nah, not possible. or was it?
~*~
I must have fallen asleep. I mean, I'm pretty sure I did, because I was dreaming. I was trying not too, in case, you know, Jesse popped in for a visit from the rectory, but I failed, and there I was, snoozing. That's willpower for you, huh?
. . . Before my eyes swirled visions of the Shadowland. Smoky wisps swirled before my eyes. I was in that very same corridor I'd seen that day. Darkness and fog obscured my vision. My heart was pounding loudly, and I felt as though it would wake the dead. Which, in Shadowland, isn't a good thing. Not that the dead sleep much.
I ran down the corridor. The fog snagged at my legs, as if trying to pull me back. Soon, it was thick and heavy around me. I was trapped.
All of a sudden, a hand caught mine. I screamed.
'Well, fancy meeting you here?' asked Paul Slater merrily. One tug and I fell into his arms. The fog swirled around us both. I was so cold.
'Let me go,' I said, which was really weird, as I was making no effort to get away. Paul seemed to be providing me warmth.
'Why would I do that? This is one of the only places where you can't run from me,' he said nastily, his hand working up my back. Um, freaky!
'Paul.' Now I was trying to get away. I struggled, but he grabbed my wrists, and slammed me against one of those doors. I seriously hoped that he didn't push me through.
Squashed against the door, I was really worried. He forced my wrists above my head, and tried to kiss me. I turned my head, and kneed upwards. No effect? How rude! What a stupid dream!
'Suze, you aren't dreaming,' he said. Huh?
'Course I am.'
'No, you're not. This is really me here. You have shifted. Very convenient for me,' he added with a smile, those icy eyes so close to mine. In the darks, they seemed to be burning.
I was so cold! He transferred one of my wrists to his other hand, so it imprisoned both, and his free arm slipped behind my back, pushing me against him.
Charming.
'Paul!' I hissed, 'Stop it! Stop it now!' This was scaring me now. The density of the fog was threatening to suffocate me. I shivered uncontrollably now.
He was kissing me again, kind of on my neck and just below me ear. Why me? Why did me always come after me?
It's okay, Suze, it's just a dream-
'You can think that if you like,' he said amid kisses, 'but it's not. This is very real.'
I had a brainwave. 'If so,' I said, 'then see ya.'
And I shifted.
~*~ 'Querida, wake up.'
Mmm.
'Susannah!' My eyes snapped open angrily. Latino hotness swam into view. Jesse's eyes were glaring into mine, dark and liquidy. His gorgeous face was outlined sharply in the moonlight.
'Huh? Whaddoyawant?' I asked groggily. 'God, Jesse, did ya have to wake me up? I was sleeping.'
'That,' he replied, 'was obvious.'
I turned over.
'Oh, no you don't,' he flipped em back to face him. It was weird, and sent a certain thrill through me. I liked being bossed around by Jesse. but not all the time.
'Jesse, I'm tired. I want to go back to.' I broke off, remembering the dream I'd been having. That was when the headache struck.
'Ah, Crikey!' I yelled, sitting up fast, and clutching me head. 'Paul was right!' 'Paul?' he asked stiffly, 'What about him?'
'Oh.nothing.' I said quickly. Oooh, that headache was rocketing. My head was fit to burst.
'Jesse,' I said desperately, 'Not the time, come back later?'
'No,' he said, 'This is important.' Geez, my head was swimming at the pain. My eyes prickled nastily.
'Querida, you're crying!' gasped Jesse. I didn't blame him. I don't usually cry, unless he's like, dying, or forcing me to confess my love, or something like that. Or if badass Paul has framed me. Then, very rewardingly, he pulled my head into his chest. My ear was sitting on those hard muscles warmly, my blankets twisted around my legs.
'What is it?' he asked, concerned. Maybe. maybe he did love me?
'Nothing, killer headache,' I said honestly. Well, not the "nothing" bit, but oh well. He stroked my hair, and a thrill identical to the previous one shot through me. Then, he remembered he was avoiding coming into contact with me, and pushed me unceremoniously back onto the bed.
A prince he is, really.
'Susannah,' he said. 'I don't know if you have anything to do with this, but certain people have been following me.'
Whoa! Someone stalking Jesse? Intriguing.