by IsYourH3artTaken

Hear No Evil

03

How To Gain Friends and Alienate People

Dinner consisted of six Spring rolls, two plates of sweet and sour pork, followed with at least three bowls of miso soup. What was supposed to be a nice family evening turned into me tasting whatever Dad ordered off the menu in Mom's absence. She had to stay overtime at work and couldn't make the trip. Dad pretty much spent the whole time balancing his check book due to his heavy down payment on the car, occasionally taking a bite out of whatever happened to be served on his plate. So it was basically just me binge eating to the bop of my mp3 player. Kind of sad and pathetic when you think about it, but oh well. It was totally worth it. I was never one to walk away from an all-you-can eat. Not to mention the leftovers we could bring home for later. That'd save me a good chunk of lunch money. I was tired of expired pudding cups and lunch meat with mysterious smells to them.

We pull up to the driveway around nine o'clock, the light fixture built in the corner of the porch automatically switching on. Our neighborhood has a very suburban, all American feel, so no craziness has really gone on in the past year or so. Except the summer parties the other teenagers throw two block down when their parents are away and the cops end up showing up to bust them in. That's always amusing to watch on the news. After storing the takeout boxes in the fridge, I skip up the stairs to my room. It's always cold in here during this season, so I usually keep the door shut and the curtains closed for insulation. The radio is still playing a generic station when I come in and flick on the light. Clothes, both clean and dirty, are scattered in various places, along with with different colored notebooks for school. It's a total mess, yet everything can be found easily. Organized chaos, as Mom once put it. Kicking off my shoes, I shrug out of my jacket and hang it up in my closet, then flop into bed. The mattress springs and bounces me up and down, like a trampoline. I sigh in contentment, tummy happy and full, then shut my eyes.

The soft chorus of Ne-Yo's So Sick filters through the room and out of the partial crack in my window. Dad never remembers to patch it up. Cold air ghosts over my lips. My body is so relaxed. All I want to do is curl up on my side, snuggle my favorite purple fuzzy pillow and sleep.

BEEP BEEP BEEP...BEEP BEEP BEEP.

My cell phone rings. Of all the damned times...

I groan, slapping my hands over my eyes. "Go away."

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Fishing around in my pocket, I pull out the bulky mobile device. "Son of a-" I mutter before picking up and faking a chipper voice. "Hello?"

"Cora!" It's Kate. "How was dinner with the fam?"

I yawn and stretch one arm. "Oh, good. Indulging."

"Feel like coming out tonight?" She asks.

"I don't know," I say wearily. "I'm pretty tired."

"Just for a little while. Please? I'm meeting Sarah and the boys at Nicky's. You should come."

Oh, brother. Sitting in a cramped booth with my best friend's gorgeous boyfriend and his ragtag group of magic practicing buddies. Yeah, sure. Sounds pleasurable. Not.

Kate begs further at my silence. "Please? I know you don't like going out late on nights when we have school the next day, but do this for me just this once? I promise I won't ask ever again." She sounds like a little girl when she talks like that. How can I say no? It'll be like kicking a puppy.

I sigh. "Yeah, okay. Why not?"

"Really?" She quips.

I smile at the happiness in her tone. "Really. I'll meet you there in a few minutes."

"Okay. Bye!"

"Bye, Kate."

Turning my phone off, I toss it on the bed and get up to pick out a fresh change of clothes. I've been wearing this jean and henley getup for almost twelve hours. Nicky's is generally treated like a club, with people adorning dark colors, but I'm not in the mood to dress up tonight, so I settle for comfort instead and switch into a pair of dark wash jeans, red camisole that's been buried in my closet for who knows how long and my prized American Eagle jean jacket that never fails to keep me cozy. Massachusetts weather is always chilly during the fall. Better to be warm than freeze my ass off. Taking one last look at the average reflection in the mirror, I grab my keys and cell before trotting down to the driveway.

Well, here goes nothing.

Also called my life.

0000

This place is a jungle.

I've only made it to the parking lot and so far, what I've seen is the stuff of nightmares. Drunk idiots stumble in and out of the entrance, laughing and shouting like they're at a frat party. Actually, this might be worse. Beer pong and strip poker is a step up from this hot mess. But there's no point in sitting here in my overheated car, so I turn off the engine and step out. The wind blows wisps of my hair as I lock the doors and the tuck the keys into my bag. My boots make an audible clink all the way to the door. There's barely any space for me to move around. My shoulders bump into people's backs, feet trip over each other and I swear I can smell pot. The stench is more putrid than used cat litter. Lovely. Cole brought me here once for our first date, back when Sketchers were the hottest thing on the market and every girl wore scrunchies in their hair. Freshman year was a very horrifying time for fashion. But at least I made a lot of great memories, both bad and good. Though, the bad ones tend to linger for a little while longer.

I wade through the crowd until my body slips into six inches of space, allowing me to breathe. The bar is full of hungry paying customers, some angry that their placed order is taking up some time to arrive. Nobody has patience these days. Such a shame. I skim the bar for Kate's plucky persona, but don't see her anywhere. She must be at the tables. Scanning every group, my eyes pass over each one until they reach the middle. A soprano voice giggles, an all too familiar tune. There she is. Sitting with Sarah, Caleb and some other dude. What's his name again? Oh, how my memory fails me.

No sign of the other boys though.

"You're here!" Kate chimes happily when I walk up. Her smile is infectious, tugging at the corners of my own mouth.

The seat between her and Sarah is empty. "So where's Dream Street?" I joke, making myself comfortable.

Kate laughs. "I don't know. They're probably somewhere messing around." She shrugs cutely, but doesn't mention the boyfriend. Thank god. Maybe he's not coming. Now this night won't be so terrible. "Want a drink?" Kate offers.

"I don't have much money on me," I frown, hanging my jacket on the back of the chair.

"I'll share mine with you," Sarah suggests and pushes her glass mug of soda to me.

"Oh, thanks," I say with a smile and take a sip from the white bendy straw. Ice cold sweetness floods my taste buds. Mmm, Pepsi.

As the night goes on, Kate goes on about how hot Brad Pitt was in his new flick, cracking jokes and making us laugh, while Caleb and Sarah trade flirty smiles. I can hear the wedding bells already. It's like these boys can attract anything with a reproductive organ within a thirty mile radius. Must be the magic. I sit there comfortably, listening and giggling at the stories disco glasses dude retells from his old private school. He's actually not that bad of a guy. I got major douche vibes radiating off him in the drug store earlier, but maybe that was only because of Caleb. They don't really act like enemies, but not necessarily friends either. The shit media says about girls being the most dramatic is a lie; guys can be just as catty as us. Especially in high school or if you get a teeny tiny amount of dirt on their brand new white kicks.

"Oh, hey, baby!" Kate greets someone from behind me. Every part of my body freezes and a familiar scent wafers into the air. Musky, like diluted gasoline and the pure tantalizing scent of boy.

Sweet Jesus. He's here.

Pogue.

"You missed a great movie," Kate gushes and kisses his cheek when he approaches her. My stomach clenches. I don't care. I totally do not care. This is a prime example of me not caring at all.

"Yeah, I had to get my bike fixed," Pogue answers and glances at me, eyes darkening slightly, which doesn't help my thumping heartbeat at all. I think I need an ambulance.

"That's cool. Chase hung out and kept me company," Kate responds, touching the said guy on his arm. Right. That's his name.

"I'll just bet he did," Pogue remarks, giving Chase a very salty side-eye glare and peels off his jacket. God, no, please keep it on. And of course he doesn't. His biceps are practically carved from the Greek Gods, glistening under the low light.

I stand up abruptly.

"Where are you going?" Kate questions when I turn to walk away.

My brain skips for a believable excuse. "Oh, uh, I just need a minute," I fib and it's clear it's not a well acted one, as confusion etches Kate's features. This isn't the first wool I've tried pulling over her eyes, but given our almost ten year friendship, we've known to read each other's emotions and when to let one another be when they need it. It's feels like I'm low balling her like this, coyly trying to avoid the group all because I just so happen to be wickedly attracted to the guy she's with, but at this point, there's not much else to hide behind. Running way like a lame little girl is not generally like me, but if it keeps space between the danger zone and I, I'll do it. The bar seems like a safe choice. The path is clear, so I tip toe up to the counter and sit on one of the vacant stools. It doesn't feel claustrophobic like the tables. There's plenty of elbow room and right under the air conditioner.

I prop my chin on my hands and watch as the owner flips a burger on the grill top. Ugh, this is ridiculous. Got my panties twisting over some leather wearing, bike riding boy. Sure, he's tall, dark, muscular, cute and mysterious and obviously good with any kind of motor vehicles. So what? A lot of boys are. I can name... well, zero. But this isn't me. I don't lose my marbles over some dude. It happened once and shockingly, a nice relationship developed. Then it turned dysfunctional, our bond distanced and we couldn't settle an argument without shifting the blame on each other. Not exactly the best way to end a first boyfriend, but in life it's sort of better not to expect anything at all. Good surprises usually feel better that way. After that disaster, I vowed to never be fooled by a charming smile again. Now look where I am. Life has a funny way of screwing me over.

"You okay?" A voice asks next to me.

I jump, startled. Freakin' Pogue. Did he follow me or something? "Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm good. What, are you stalking me now or something?"

"Whoa, easy," Pogue backtracks, holding up his hands slightly. "I was just asking-"

"Well, you don't have to. I'm fine." DING DING DING. My bitch radar is going off and it's all sourcing from me. Guilt immediately settles in my chest when I see his eyebrows pull together, probably wondering how a girl could openly talk him then avoid him hours later like he's death's embrace. Smooth, Cora. Now he probably thinks I'm a psycho and never wants to talk to me again. "I'm sorry. I just...I need a minute alone, okay?"

"Yeah, it's cool. I get it," he answers. He doesn't sound angry or freaked by my mood swing. A smirk even plays across his lips, like he knows what I'm feeling. Oh, God. I hope he never knows. He must never, ever, ever know. I might just have to apply for Witness Protection Program if he does.

I smile at him and hop off the stool, then weave my way to the unsanitary bathrooms. The stall doors are painted a uniform blue, chipped in certain areas, sloppy phone numbers and other handwriting marked all over them. It smells like Clorox and used condoms. Who knows what else it looks like under the lids. I shudder at the thought and walk to the clearest mirror. The sinks look like they haven't been cleaned in over twenty years, soap scrum and other build-up caked around the handles. Disgusting. I yank a sheet of paper towel from the dispenser and use it to dab my damp face, too cowardly and germ phobic to use the grimy tap. The water is probably brown too. Ugh.

After balling the paper and tossing it in the trash, I rake my fingers through my hair, separating the tangled clumps and split ends. Parties and drunk scenes always get under my skin. It's like a curse. I'm not made for that type of fun, I guess. At least not the kind that causes you to lose your memory in the morning. I used to be like that, back when I dated Cole and thought he was the hottest thing since Jesse McCartney. He dragged me to almost every single party a Spenser student threw. I wanted to prove that I could keep up with everything and wasn't afraid to try new things, no matter what was mixed in the red solo cup; something that I learned the hard way. But Kate was always there to bring me to my feet again and to tell me it'd get better. And for a while, it did. Until all the partying and drinking just burned me out. I'd rather much be at home with a tub of Ben & Jerry's while marathon watching One Tree Hill.

But I'm here now, so I might as well make the best of it.

"Hi, my name is Cora and I'm totally not miserable," I chant once to my mirror reflection, then force my ass out the door. The crowd looks bigger. More people grind and girate on the dance floor to an outdated pop tune.

"Cora!" A voice calls as soon as I exit the bathroom. It's Tyler. He's with the other boys at the foosball table. I guess him and Reid are taking a break from their swindling. "Come sub for us!"

Eh, why not? Beats wandering around like an imbecile.

"Toss us back the balls when they go down," Tyler adds when I stride up.

"I'm sure you're already familiar with that," Reid hints.

I glare at him playfully. He's lucky I don't have anything sharp in my hand. His own nards could go mysteriously missing and end up on the Black Market. "Shut up." His impish chuckle makes me smile. He's really not so bad. Sort of.

I watch them play and retrieve the balls from the opening when they're shot down, laughing as we go. They get so into the game, as if it's a real sport, rather than flimsy pieces of plastic. Pogue and Caleb successfully defend their perfect score against Reid and Tyler - the latter cursing every time they miss a shot. Pogue's biceps are so taut and defined, flexing every time he twists a handle. No, stop it. Look away. He's off-limits. Don't look at him like that ever again. Don't even think about looking at him. As I lean down to pick up the balls and throw them back onto the game mat, my arm accidentally brushes against Pogue's, bare skin mingling. It feels like an electric current is passing through us simultaneously. We move our arms away at the same time, giving each other a brief, perplexed look before their game resumes again.

I lightly rub at the spot on my arm, wondering what exactly that was and why whenever him and I touch, a shocking feeling comes between us. It can't be just a coincidence. Not after almost four instances. The boys play on, keeping scores and boasting each other with one of them makes a hit. Their usual flare of energy feels different that the last time they were all together. Caleb is sending Reid some very firm, almost suspicious glances; the kind Dad gives me when I forgot to set the dishwasher and try to weasel my way out of it with a lie. The blonde boy seems like the type who can't step two feet out of his house without signaling police sirens, but granted how lenient Caleb acted of his wily ways at the party, it makes me wonder what he did wrong to make their fearless leader so upset. That's brotherhood for you.

When I chuck the balls onto the game mat, one of them accidentally knocks against Reid's hand and he playfully throws it back at me, but it flies a little too high, surging toward my cheek. Pogue catches it in his hand before it can make contact and glares at the blonde. Reid just smirks and shrugs.

I laugh.

"Cora?" A voice calls from the bar stools. My shoulders stiffen. I'd know that voice even if I was deaf. It's Cole.

My heart drops to my stomach as I slowly peer behind me at the voice's direction and see him sitting on one of the stools. His body is angled toward me, one arm rested on the counter and once our eyes meet, he hops off and advances straight toward us. "Oh, jesus," I whine, spinning back around so he doesn't see my expression. "What's he doing here?"

All of the boys stop what they're doing. "You know him?" Tyler asks.

I nod, pondering the chances of army diving under the foosball table with giving away position. "He's my ex-boyfriend." Pogue's eyes darken at that.

And as if on cue. "Cora!" Cole's voice resonates in my ear. His footsteps stop inches away.

Trying to hide the utter horror, I pivot to face him hesitantly. "Hey," my voice comes out mildly timid.

"Hey!" Cole replies enthusiastically, eyes bright and full of mirth. It's so clear as day he's buzzed off a Heineken or two. Why did I date this guy again? "It's been awhile, hasn't it? How have you been?"

"Good, I guess," I say with no interest at all, gazing at my shoes. The boys' solid presence grows thicker and thicker with each ticking second, like they're weighing Cole's level of dickhead. I mean, he's not an entirely hateable guy, but what do they have against him?

"Listen, a couple of my friends and I are getting together to my place for a few drinks. My brother's bringing a couple of kush bags he bought fresh from Josh. You should come with us."

Wow. Didn't see this coming. "Umm," my brain sputters. "I don't think I can. I'm sorry."

"Are you sure?" Cole attempts to coax. "You don't have to drink or smoke if you don't want to. Unless it's with me. " He flashes me a stupid smirk that used to make my heart skip. Now it feels like I'm going to lose my dinner.

"Beat it, asshole," Reid dismisses him. "Cora's with us."

Cole's jaw tightens, but his eyes stay focused on me. "Look, can we talk? In private?"

I glance back at the boys, biting my lip when I see their deadly serious faces. Pogue has his arms crossed and is looking at me, shaking his head slightly as if to signal the obvious answer. The others never take their sights off Cole. What's with them? Do magic practitioners also sense what teenaged boys true intentions are? Where were they when I first met him? Nevertheless, this is my battle and mine alone. I have to nip it in the bud.

"Okay, fine," I give in. "But just for a minute."

Cole grins and puts a hand on my lower back as he leads me out the side door. I forgot what his touch is like. Not as great as I remember. He shuts the door halfway so there's privacy and glances around to make sure we have the alleyway to ourselves. Pogue's bike is park just along the bend. A gust of wind blows past us and I shiver, crossing my arms tightly. My jacket is hanging forgotten on the chair. Through the crack, I see the boys still surrounding the foosball table. Pogue watches the direction where we left from, the others talking quietly next to him, but I'm not sure if he can see me through the space. Hope not.

Cole eyes me lewdly, soft blue eyes glazed over. He's on one for sure. "You look great tonight," he compliments and it doesn't sound forced.

Still, it's awkward to take, after so much time we've spent apart. "Oh, uh, thank you," I say, lightly rubbing the side of my neck.

Cole slips his hands into his jean pockets and glances at the asphalt. "I'v been thinking about you lately," he swallows thickly. "About us. I... I miss you. I miss our talks over the phone at night." He trails off and a beat passes in silence.

"And?" I pry for more.

"What do you think about picking up where we left off?"

Oh, get real. "No."

Cole raises an eyebrow. "No?"

"Cole, I told you before that I wanted out, okay?" I sigh. "You can't just waltz back into my life and expect me to take you back because you ask for it. That's not how it works. I'm in a decent place now. We're better off as friends anyways."

"Come on, Cora. I know we fought a lot and I acted like a dick, but if you give me another chance I'll-"

"You're not gonna get another chance," I cut him off briskly. "You're not gonna get anything." Sounds brutal, but it's true. I've made way too much progress to regress now.

His hand flies to my waist when I move for the door, squeezing softly. "Cora, come on."

I try to push him away, but my protest runs short and a tiny sliver of panic bubbles in my chest. Cole was never the violent kind, but people can change. For the worse. But then the door opens behind us and the unmistakable voice of a very pissed off looking Pogue Parry hovers in the tall frame. "This guy bothering you?" He asks roughly, eyes narrow and glued to Cole. The imposing presence of the much larger teenaged boy invokes Cole to release his grip on my waist.

"No," I say, looking up at Pogue for a moment, then back at my ex. It feels like a chain has just been unlocked. "Not anymore."

Cole frowns as I turn away from him to head back inside. "Hey, we weren't finished talking," he states angrily, making both Pogue and I pause.

"Really?" Pogue remarks sarcastically. "Looks like you are to me."

Cole attempts to follow when I ascend the steps, Pogue's hand grazing the small of my back when I pass. "Cora, just let me explain-" But Pogue blocks him off, a big hand to the smaller guy's chest.

"Leave her alone, man," Pogue warns him. "She's not interested."

They stare at each other for a minute, silent, eyes tight and filled with so much tension you'd think they were seconds away from limbering up and going at it. This is what happens when you put too much testosterone in one tiny establishment. Someone will have to reap the consequences sooner or later. And by that, I mean pay a whole lot out of their pocketbook. But surprisingly no fists swing between the angsty fellas and Pogue breaks away to follow me back inside to the boys. My chest deflates with relief. Phew. That was a close one. For a minute there, I thought I'd have to don a striped shirt and blow a referee whistle.

Pogue runs a big hand through his hair, making it slightly a little more unkempt. His bicep flexes at the action. God, Cora, stop looking. "You dated that tool?" He asks me incredulously.

"Unfortunately, yes."

"I thought you were gonna stay away from him."

"I was. I still am," I clarify and look up at him curiously at his almost defensive tone. "Why do you care so much?"

Pogue hesitates, but our eye contact doesn't break. "I just don't want to see you hurt by him."

My stomach flutters. Oh, jesus. Not now. Stop it. "Well...thanks," I tell him tentatively. "But don't worry about it. I can handle myself just fine."

Pogue smirks. "Yeah, I can tell."

We gaze at each other for the longest time, or at least, that's what it feels like. The suggestive glint in his eyes makes my face flush and look down, until he clears his throat, also realizing that we're standing here in a middle of a crowd like it's beach and the sun is setting behind us. I laugh softly to diffuse the awkwardness and shake my head at Reid's antics as he tries to swindle a round with an unsuspecting nonparticipant at the foosball table. They're certainly making their rounds around the place, pocketing money like the rent is about to go up. It's like hanging out with the cast of Jackass, except I don't feel inclined to risk my own life. Truth be told, it's kind of nice to be around. My usual group of Spenser friends are great, everything an adolescent girl can ask for. But it's always nice to test the waters and see what it's like on the other side. So many girls would consider these guys wild and dangerous; personally, I'd aim for more reckless and juvenile, but fair enough.

But their company is risky. Given that they're basically death on legs and I hold my very human life in some regard, a magical friendship is questionable, if it's even on that level yet. More like acquaintances that defy laws of gravity. Sometimes I wonder if they're being straight up with me about the whole disappearing Hummer act. But then I remember their blackened eyes and fuzzy feeling of my body as Pogue touched me...and I know it was real. Everything was. Their intentions don't seem ill, though, like they use their power to score a free pack of beer or to take advantage of that poor girl crying in the corner because her date left her for shorter walking mini skirt. It's kind of exciting.

"Garwin!" A male voice pipes from the pool table. It's Aaron Abbot, holding up a twenty dollar bill.

"That's us," Reid announces and taps Tyler's arm. "Excuse us, ladies." Guess it's back to scamming some poor slack jaws out of their hard earned cash.

"Your turn," Caleb tells me, moving a space down the table so I can join his team. That leaves Pogue by himself.

"You know, I'll probably end up making us lose, right?" I say to Caleb, grasping the warm handles where his hands were.

Caleb smiles. "It's alright. You're a girl."

I smack his arm. "Shut up!" He laughs as Pogue smirks at me. My face grows hot like someone's pressing burning pans to both cheeks. He makes me so nervous and disoriented. I'll botch this round for sure. "Wait," I blurt, realizing our uneven number. "We need one more player." My vision skims every eligible head, pausing on one certain brunette chatting up Kate. "Chase!" I call and wave him over when he looks my way.

He grins from ear to ear once he sees our activity and bounds forward. "You rang?"

"We need one more player."

"Don't mind if I do," he replies with a smirk and worms his way next to Pogue, who shoots him a very distasteful glare.

We play for a bit, but this time it feels a little more competitive now that there's a player that isn't a member of Spenser's very own Color Me Badd. The tension between Chase and Pogue has definitely reached new heights than before and I'm pretty sure more than just the baby faced hunk cozying up to Kate. But the reason for it, I have no clue. Do boys even need a reason to hate each other anyways? I mean, if girls can practically claw each other to pieces over physical appearance, who knows what the opposite sex can do. But surprisingly the boys diverge into talk about swimming, a hobby they all share in common it seems. And by the sound of it, Pogue and Caleb are very territorial over their reputation. Can't have some fresh meat coming in jacking their swag. No way.

After a few minutes, Pogue taps an unaware Caleb on the shoulder, glancing at Sarah, who slowly stalks toward us. Or more like toward the man candy in the wife beater. She looks like a lioness hunting through the jungle, ready to feast on fresh prey. I Love Rock and Roll by Joan Jett plays loudly in the foreground. Sheesh. I hate this jam. It sounds like a twelve year old wrote it in the quad during lunch time. Sarah seductively takes Caleb's arm and tows him to the dance floor. It's about time she took the initiative and chased the meat. Sometimes when things aren't done right, you gotta do it yourself. I laugh when they begin to dance awesomely bad. You'd think Gumby was giving them free lessons.

"You wanna dance?" Chase suggests over the music.

I scratch my temple. My moves are not the epitome of contemporary beauty. "Um..."

Chase lifts his palms and holds them close to his chest. His expression is innocent. "Keeping my hands here at all times."

I giggle. "Well, okay." He seems harmless. But if he tries to cop a feel, I'm swinging my leg back like pendulum and socking him square in the nuts.

Chase's eyes flit up to Pogue behind me and his smirk widens for reasons unbeknownst. Ah, whatever. I give up trying to understand the male mind. Though before we have the chance to actually horrify everyone with our dance talents, or lack thereof, a loud crash emits from the pool table, catching everybody's attention. Reid and Aaron are apparently in a tizzy, pushing each other around over a sham gone wrong. They storm outside, leaving the rest of us shocked at their semi-violent display. Pogue and Caleb are hot on their heels, snapping into action to tame their friends. Magical teenaged boys gone wild.

I hand the two their coats.

"You guys need help?" Chase asks.

"No, man. Just stay with the girls," Pogue rebuffs and follows Caleb out the back door. Well, this is sufficiently awkward. What now?

I stand around, glancing over my shoulders at the stagnant dancers. The jukebox tune suddenly screeches to a halt, leaving the bar with an odd disquieting silence. It's weird seeing a pub inactive and not... well, crazy. It almost feels like a civilized restaurant. My gaze lingers on the backdoor where the boys stomped out of. The inner mischief in me wants to creep out there and listen in on their showdown with Aaron, but given their astounding display of abilities, they'll probably hear my footsteps. No spying tonight.

Kate sits alone at the table, so I decide to keep her company and to scare away the lowlifes trying to score her number. She smiles at me as I plop down next her.

"What happened over there? Where did the boys go?" Kate asks.

"Oh, Aaron was messing with Reid. Guess they took him to the back to teach him a lesson," I reply.

Kate rolls her eyes, waving a hand dismissively. "Ugh, boys."

I laugh and take a sip of soda, relaxing as the caffeine pulses through my veins. Just what I need. A liquid chill pill.

Kate bites into a french fry from Pogue's untouched basket of food. "I need to find you a guy."

I almost choke on my soft drink. "What?"

"Seriously, you need to find someone. I know it's been awhile since Cole, but don't let him hold you back from dating again."

"Hey, I'm happy flying solo," I defend.

Kate cocks her head at me. "Yeah, but how would you feel once we go on group dates?"

"Group dates?"

"Yeah, me and Pogue...Caleb and Sarah."

"Oh," I mumble and steal a fry from the tray. They're still warm. "So, I'll be fifth wheel. No big deal."

Kate rolls her eyes. "You just need to find the right guy. Watch, one of these days he's gonna come walking right through that door." She points toward the backdoor, just as Pogue slinks in a few paces behind Caleb and Sarah.

Of freakin' course. Fantastic timing. I force laughter and slurp a huge mouthful of Pepsi as Pogue comes back to our table, holding it my mouth for five seconds before swallowing stiffly. He leans down to peck Kate's lips, glancing at me quickly when he pulls away. I can't look him in the eye. It's too uncomfortable. Being around them while they act all loving leaves a sickening feeling in my gut. God, I have it bad. And all for a guy I don't even know that well. Who's dating my best friend. Some combination, huh? Caleb and Sarah leave separately, holding hands and look weirdly keyed up despite the near catastrophic events that could have went down between a couple of hyper active boys. Magical prowess must increase the libido too.

Their departure leaves me in the company of Kate and Pogue, a situation I do not want. I manage to make it through ten minutes of their coupling, Kate's occasional pet names for him, until I fake the 'whole strict parental rules' excuse, which isn't an entire lie. My curfew isn't up until eleven, but why waste two hours with my best friend and her heavenly beautiful boyfriend when I can waste away the last years of my high school tenure in my room replaying sad Mariah Carey songs while eating fruit roll ups? Sounds like a solid plan to me. I kiss Kate on the cheek and hug her goodbye, seeing Pogue smirk a little at me as we embrace. My heart flips and I let go a little too early, almost tripping over one of the legs of the chair. Kate bids a goodnight and promises to call me in the morning before school starts tomorrow. I almost forgot tonight is Sunday. That'll be hell.

Maybe I can convince Dad to write a doctor's note. He has the doctrine anyways. For Orthodontia, but hey it still counts, right? A coward's move, but I don't know what else to do. It feels like my crush on Pogue is painted all over my face for all to see. How can I be around him one more day without some kind of mental collapse? And Kate ever found out... it's scary to imagine. I've seen her upset before, plenty of time, and she vents her anger her sadness through tears. Lots of that. The idea of me doing that to her is painful. I value her friendship way too much to attempt anything to put it in jeopardy. She's always been there for me. But at the same time, lying to her and dodging her presence in hopes of avoiding her boyfriend doesn't seem fair either.

And the Worst Friend award goes to...

Me.

0000

When I arrive back home, the shower calls to me first and foremost. The tavern left an icky thick residue in my hair, like clumps of dirty clay. Pantene Pro V probably won't get the foul odor out for weeks. Good thing I didn't use the bathrooms. Who knows what diseases I might have contracted. The house is dark when I shut the door and set the alarm. No Dad reading the paper by the fireplace or Mom scribbling away on her stationery. They're tucked away blissfully in bed, which works out for me since I'm half a minute past curfew. The air conditioning is a few degrees lower than comfort, so I slip on Spencer's Official Basketball Team sweater that Cole still has yet to ask for back. Ah, well. He may not be dating materiel anymore, who says I can't make use of of his belongings? I run the shower head and take out some fresh clean pajamas from the drawer, humming to the radio as I go.

After washing up and dressing for bed, I wiggle under the covers, wet hair fanning out on the pillow. A muted yawn seeps past my mouth as I go over the day in my head. The good, the bad, and the weird. The boys are sure interesting to be around. Yet mildly terrifying at the same time. They all have different traits that make me laugh and smile. Pogue's presence alone can send my heart aching to the point of cardiac arrest. It's definitely a game breaker standing close to him. But avoiding him will mean avoiding Kate which will be damn near impossible. She's the closest I've ever had to a sister. Which is more logical? Sparing a best friend's feelings, even if it means pushing them away or sticking it out and act like nothing's wrong, which could potentially spoil my secret crush?

Life sure has a knack for screwing me over.

My cell phone dings with a message indicator.

Kate (Mobile)
Shopping 2morrow after school?

I smile and type a reply. Hopefully the invitation doesn't extend to the boyfriend. If he even likes that sort of stuff.

Cora (Mobile)
Definitely! See u then :)

Rolling on my side, I stretch an arm out to flick off the lamp, then burrow deeper into the sheets. Sleep overcomes me quickly, easily. It's such a reliever to end the night in relaxation and not with manifestations of rotting corpses or open portals looking to swallow me whole. And with a pending Algebra test coming up in the week, I'm gonna need all the sleep I can get. Moonlight casts long thin lines over my bed from the blinds as the hours drone by. I lay there peacefully for the most part, deep in slumber, then roll over on my side after a while when the mattress becomes too springy. The fan spinning above spurs crazily for a moment, like it's about to fly off and the blades send sharp cuts through the wind it makes. And for a second, I think I hear my name being whispered through it. Soft and beckoning.

My eyelids flutter open, hearing the weird noise and I hurriedly yank on the bedside lamp. Light floods the room, but nothing is how it shouldn't be. I rub my temple and glance around warily, swearing that I heard something shifty. Maybe it's just the ventilation acting wonky. Or the effect the boys have on my brain again. God damn their appeal. Damn it all to hell. I sigh and lean across the bed to turn off the lamp again, but a paralyzing sensation overcomes my body, starting from the ankles, working all the way up. Tiny black dots freckle my vision and everything in sight grow blurry. Colors appear grey, then sephia, before blackening out completely.

No...

No, no, no.

It's happening again.

My lips part, but no noise escapes. Images flash behind my retinas. Spiders...so many spiders. Crawling everywhere, in and out through soil and flesh. I see faces. Familiar faces. Kate and Sarah. The latter is screaming in pure terror and I see it all in my head. Pressure resides at my temple, bursting against the bone plate in my forehead. Shear white pain.

I scream and the light goes out.

0000

I wake up some time later, lying face down in my cream colored carpet, tiny clumps of dust bunnies sticking to my lips and hair. All of the lights returned back on and the ceiling fans hums quietly above as if nothing happened. The alarm clock blinks two in the morning in flashing red block letters. Two hours have passed and everything is hauntingly quiet. Normal. I groan, my body sore from being sprawled on the scratchy carpet for so long and sit back on my heels, running a hand through my languid hair. Confusion morphs in my chest as I gaze around the room, nothing out of the ordinary at all. Everything is in it's perfect place. I don't get it. Did I imagine all of that? Did I hallucinate those vivid pictures in my head? I couldn't have. It felt so real. And it hurt. It couldn't have been the effects of too much caffeine or not enough vitamins, maybe.

I rise wobbly to my feet and sit gingerly at the edge of my bed, hearing owls softly hooing outside the window. The images still burn fresh in my brain; insects of all kind slithering over bare skin and out places of the human body no spider should enter. And those face. I can't remember what they look like, but I know they were there. They're someone I know. Everything just feels like it's going downhill and there's nothing to do to bring it up again. These dreams have me at a loss and dread going to sleep at night, in fear of what I'll end up seeing. But they mean something. They're speaking to me, in it's own way. I know it does. It just have to find out why. The sudden vibration of my cell on the nightstand makes me jump. The screen lights up, alerts displaying that I've missed over thirty calls and text messages over the past few hours.

It buzzes for a moment, before I shakily answer it and bring it up to my ear.

"Cora," Caleb's deep, concerned voice acknowledges. "I've been trying to get a hold of you-"

"It happened again," I whisper, bringing my knees to my chest.

"I know," he says grimly. "We heard it. What did you see?"

"Spiders... lots of spiders. And..." I squeeze my eyes shut, free hand coming up to clutch the side of my head as I try to recall the faces in the vision. But they're all blurry and out of focus. They won't come into clarity. But I know they were there... more than two people. "Faces... two faces. But I can't see them. I can't remember who they are." The other line goes silent for a moment, but Caleb's heavy breathing still resounds through the line, lost in thought. If he doesn't have a clue what this is, how can I? "Caleb... what's going on? Why is this happening to me?"

Caleb inhales sharply. "I don't know. But I promise, I'm gonna find out." He pauses. "Are you hurt?"

"No. My neck is a little sore, though," I reply, rolling my stiff shoulders a bit.

"Stay there. We'll come and get you."

I blanch at his usage of plurals. We. Nope. My room is not fit to hold four magic wielding boys who have no consideration for collateral damage. Also, not when my parents are home, within ear shot. "No, no, you can't!" I exclaim, cringing when I realize the high volume of my voice. I take a deep breathe and tone it down. "Not while my parents are here. I'll be okay for the night. I'll talk to you at school."

"Are you sure you're gonna be okay?" Caleb asks.

"Yeah," my voice comes our hoarsely, unsure. I swallow thickly and it strengthens a little. "Yeah. I'm sure."

A/N: I hope everyone enjoyed this one! I certainly had a great time writing it. The movie was made quite a few years ago, so it's a lot of fun putting all these old trends and boy band/song references in. Thank you for all the feedback! I really appreciate it. :)

Next chapter: Cora discovers a book at school that could possibly explain what might be happening to her...

Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it.