Disclaimer: I don't own The Lost Boys or anything recognizable associated with it. I only own my characters and the plot of this story.
2. The Fight or Flight
Ever since that night on the boardwalk it was like the mysterious boys were everywhere all at once.
When Wendy went to the convenience door at the end of her block to grab some microwavable dinners after work, there the tall blonde was buying a pack of cigarettes at the counter. When she was on her break during the late shift she spotted the tall brunette across the road pulling the black-haired girl onto his bike, grinning at her over his shoulder as she curled against his back. And just the other night when Wendy and Naomi went to the theater to see a movie, she caught a glimpse of the curly-haired boy and the tall blonde leaning against the wall next to one of the claw machines. The curly-haired boy's eyes seemed to follow a lovely dark-skinned girl with an intensity that even made Wendy blush as the girl ordered some snacks at the concession stand with her friends.
Wendy didn't know what to make of any of it.
It's like they didn't exist until suddenly they did. She tried to rationalize that they'd probably been there all along she just never noticed them. And maybe since she was now aware of them, it's like her mind purposefully sought them out.
"Hey," Wendy had leaned in to whisper to Charlie after buying her popcorn. He was a friend of Quincy who worked at the theater stands. "Who are those guys?"
Charlie had followed the direction she nodded in, his eyes zeroing in on the two blondes as they played around with the claw machine.
"Oh," he'd said, voice dropping an octave as if they weren't who he'd been expecting. "Them."
She frowned at his vague response. "Who's 'them'?"
"No one really knows," he had told her quickly, noticing there was a line forming behind her. "They showed up about a month or two ago. I've seen 'em in here a few times with the tall one and some girl but they mostly hang around the boardwalk. Aside from spooking the people there they mostly just pick up girls—or guys, I guess, don't really have a preference—and mess around," he gave a strained chuckle. "Talk about living the dream, huh?"
Wendy had tried to peer subtly over her shoulder at the blondes. The dark-skinned girl was just passing them as she headed down the corridor to her theater, smiling secretly at the curly-haired boy who kept her in his line of sight until she disappeared around the corner. Once she was gone, the tall one slapped him on the back and they exchanged identical grins.
She couldn't really describe the interest she had in them. Sure, they were a bit strange at first glance, but so were a lot of people Wendy's age. The majority of the boys at her school were either trying to be Guns 'N Roses or Aerosmith, and they were poor representations at best because they were only between the ages of fifteen and seventeen. At least these boys pulled the look off well even if she couldn't really guess how old they were.
The one she rarely saw out and about was the blonde-haired leader. She could count on one hand the amount of times she'd seen him and it was always at the boardwalk either getting into trouble with the security guards – she used the term 'trouble' loosely because not even the security guards seemed capable of intimidating him into leaving and they never complained when he returned unless he did something to disturb the peace – or gazing out into the crowd. She couldn't help but wonder if he was looking for someone. The police department had recently started printing flyers of the missing people, which totaled to three now, and taping them to the information center at the head of the boardwalk.
He didn't have the face of someone who'd lost someone though. Rather than looking concerned or worried, he just looked curious. Wendy didn't try to think much into it; she never had been very good at reading people. To her these four boys were like a completely different language. She had to try to tell herself she didn't care. It wasn't worth her time dwelling over four strangers she'd probably never speak to.
Wendy was scrubbing a dirty skillet a few nights later, her brown hair matted with sweat brimming her forehead from the heat of the water, when the next domino fell.
It was another busy night at Paula's as the town began to welcome summer with open arms. Thankfully for her she had a helper to carry some of the burden tonight. Todd White was a quiet boy, fairly soft spoken with sand-colored hair and brilliant blue eyes. Despite his shyness he was nice and articulate when he wanted to be. Wendy had a feeling he was more in his element when he was surrounded by people he knew which she couldn't judge him for. Usually if she didn't know the person very well she had a hard time making conversation too, hence the reason most of their shared shifts were spent in silence.
Since they'd worked together for a little over five months the silences were no longer awkward or uncomfortable and Wendy had come to almost appreciate them. It felt like every other moment of her life was spent having her ear talked off by someone and having an hour or two of quietness came to her as a blessing.
"Can you believe that woman?"
Speak of the devil. At least she'd gone a straight forty minutes before bursting into the kitchen to complain. Poor Todd, though. When Naomi slammed open the door he jumped so hard he dropped the plate he was washing into the sink, suds flying up into his face.
"Which one?" Wendy asked her after flashing the boy an apologetic look. It took a while to get used to Naomi's abrasiveness.
"The one who told me I spit in her milkshake last week! — Don't look at me like that, you know I didn't. She's been giving me the evil eye all night and when she ordered she asked for pickles on the side, right? I brought it out to her exactly as she wanted it, two pickles on the side instead of on the burger, and she had the nerve to tell me the burger was too done. She claims to have told me she wanted it medium rare, which she did not, so I had to ask the chef to remake it and he accidentally put the pickles on this one instead of on the side and she called me incompetent. And then," Naomi laughed sarcastically, "when she signed the check she wrote, literally wrote, a zero on the tip line. That old hag!"
Naomi's cheeks were on fire as she seethed next to Wendy who was tempted to pat her shoulder in consolation but figured she wouldn't appreciate the soap marks on her black shirt.
"It didn't help that her bratty grandsons kept spilling their glasses of milk and demanding more pictures to color. She didn't even try to control them. I swear she gave me an evil smile the third time I had to mop up their mess like she makes them do it on purpose. She's out to get me," Naomi scowled and stared ahead. "I wish I had spit in her milkshake."
"You can't let people like that get to you," Wendy said, cleverly biting back her usual retort of 'that's why I work in the kitchen' in fear of invoking Naomi's wrath next. "They always think the world revolves around them. Showing that they make you mad just proves they've won."
"Next time she comes in for her morning coffee I'm not making it decaf. Maybe her black shriveled up little heart will explode, provided she actually has one."
"I've always wanted a best friend that's gone to prison for pre-meditated murder," Wendy mused with a theatrical sigh. "Let me know what the food's like."
"You don't have to pay for anything while you're there so it can't be all that bad," Naomi pondered the thought. Wendy grinned. Todd looked very worried.
"Don't worry," Naomi reassured him in a way that didn't sound reassuring at all. "I don't actually want her to die. Not really."
Todd looked like maybe he was about to respond but Mike, the night shift leader, opened the kitchen door and set his hard gaze on Naomi.
"It's funny," Mike remarked in his rugged voice after years of smoking and chewing tobacco. "I could've sworn you worked up front. Do you want to be moved to the kitchen?"
Naomi straightened herself quickly, peering at Wendy out of the corner of her eye.
"Not really," she said, shooting Wendy a 'no offense' look. Mike lifted an eyebrow, a deadpan expression covering his rough face that barred an uneven five o'clock shadow.
"Then get up front where you belong and do your job. Table four needs to be cleaned."
He pulled back and left their sight. Naomi had the good sense of looking mildly chagrinned.
"What shift do you work tomorrow?" she asked once she recovered, pausing in the doorway.
"I actually have the day off," Wendy said, unable to hide her own surprise at the fact. "Weird, right? I can't remember the last day I didn't work, not that I'm complaining."
Naomi hummed. "I work the morning shift so maybe we can do something after I get off. The beach kind of sounds nice and I know Gary'll be free after swim practice."
"Yeah maybe," Wendy smiled.
Mike shouted something through the wall and Naomi looked like she wanted to roll her eyes but refrained, knowing Mike would somehow find out about it because he always did. Wendy was convinced he had eyes and ears everywhere. Naomi's lips twitched and she wiggled her fingers at Todd before returning to the front of the restaurant, presumably to do her job as Mike requested. Todd visibly relaxed the second she was gone and Wendy almost wanted to laugh but she felt too bad to let it slip.
"I swear she's a nice person," Wendy told him earnestly. "And she's not prone to violence on most days."
"Do you have any evidence to support that?" Todd asked. His voice was quiet but his tone was dry and he spoke without hesitation. It made Wendy pause before she gave him a smile of delight.
"I love it when you say things," she grinned. Todd cracked a small grin right back.
An hour later things seemed to slow down. Wendy was wiping her arms down with a towel as she packed up her things. She hovered near Todd as she did so, trying to gauge if he had it handled or not without actually asking. Since the expression on Todd's face gave nothing away, she sighed inwardly before stepping next to him as she swung her bag over her shoulder.
"Are you going to be okay?"
Todd spared her a cursory glance before returning to his work. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Go ahead."
"Are you sure?" she checked. "You'll be left alone with Mike tonight…"
"Don't worry," Todd chuckled a little. "Unlike your friend I actually get along with him. I'll see you 'round."
"Have a good night, Todd," Wendy gave him a small wave before running by the office to stamp her timesheet.
She pushed through the door into the front, giving Naomi and the other nightshift waitress a wave. Naomi mimed the phone symbol next to her ear and Wendy nodded before leaving through the double glass doors.
The air was a bit warm for nine in the evening, a welcome change to the brisk cold nights Santa Carla usually faced as it was right on the water. After checking her pockets to see how much cash she had, she realized she was a bit short for the bus so she heaved a sigh and began the half an hour trek to her apartment.
Her and Quincy lived fairly close to the water even if it wasn't along the boardwalk. It was only about a ten minute drive from their apartment building if traffic was an issue and the air still smelled salty outside her bedroom window, a smell she occasionally missed as over the years her nose had become mostly desensitized to it.
The roads were fairly active and every now and then Wendy had to weave through groups of people heading down to the boardwalk. It took her turning down a separate road for the echoing rhythm of carnival music to fade, leaving less people on the sidewalk she had to avoid. She had to walk at a slight incline which made her thighs burn and she gazed up at the black sky to give her mind something else to think about. Her surroundings still consisted mostly of bright shops, gas stations and old office buildings which left little visible starlight, much to her disappointment.
She couldn't tell if she was so far in her element that she just hadn't noticed it before until now, but as she passed the 7-Eleven she realized the hairs on the back of her neck were standing up.
Her shoulders stiffened out of reflex and she peered over at the white and blue neon display sign flickering in the gas station window, humming lowly even from where she walked. Her brows knitted and she tried to shake the feeling off when she didn't see anyone else around besides an elderly man pumping gas several feet away. She figured the reports of the recent missing persons were simply getting to her and she was only being paranoid.
But the more she tried to ignore the feeling, the more noticeable it became. She tried to physically shrug the feeling off, as if something tangible was tickling her neck, but the sensation never wavered. If anything, it became stronger until she felt a pull in her gut. Not a pained feeling, but more so a discomfort. Her eyes flickered across the street, worried for a moment that someone was watching her from inside one of the buildings but all the lights were turned off. If someone was in there, she couldn't see them.
Holding her bag's strap a little tighter, she continued walking at a faster pace. The sooner she got home, the sooner she could stop worrying about it. She knew Santa Carla wasn't the safest city in California. She'd heard more than one person refer to it as the murder capital of the world, though she assumed most of them were just exaggerating. Aside from the three people that had recently gone missing, the news had been clean.
When her Mom left two years ago there were several cases Wendy heard about only because she was constantly at the sheriff's station with Quincy and news traveled fast, but none of them had ever made the papers. She assumed all of them had been found. Well, besides her mother, but she and Quincy had a feeling that was by design. Mirabelle Valentine left on purpose. She didn't want to be found.
Wendy made to turn down the first neighborhood street that came into view when she heard it. The tugging in her gut had been consistent for the last two minutes and, as if knowing something was going to happen, her heart rate spiked a split second before a loud scream pierced the air.
Fight or flight instincts immediately kicked in. Under most circumstances Wendy's internal survivor meter always pointed directly to flight. It was basic human instinct and Wendy wasn't one to defy thousands of years of evidence that clearly showed running to the problem rather than away from it was a bad idea. So what she did next was something that completely blindsided her.
Instead of taking off down the road or maybe taking refuge in the 7-Eleven, her head whipped around frantically to try and find the origin of the scream. Ignoring the startled shout of the old man as he dropped the gas pump—"What in tarnation!" —she jogged in the direction she thought the scream came from, being proven right when a second one broke out only seconds later. This one was less loud and it wavered, like the throat it tore from was trembling.
She ran across the street while searching for a pay phone in case she needed to call 911, ignoring the painful clench of her stomach and the way the flesh of her scalp seemed to crawl.
She spotted an alcove between two brick buildings, the entrance cloaked in darkness from the angle of the streetlights and she ran towards it without thinking. Her legs carried her into the narrow alleyway covered in trash and discarded papers and she stumbled into the adjacent stone wall, nearly tripping over her own two feet as she gaped at the sight before her.
As if it were some cruel twist of fate, two startlingly familiar faces peered up at her, their eyes glowing and faces pale from the reflection of the moonlight beaming in through the slit in the roofs. They had a girl trapped between them, their bodies pinning her in place as if to thwart any chances of escape. It was too dark to make out any real features of her face but her mouth was hanging open, a pained wince twisting her lips, with her eyes wide in fright as a flash of something sharp and white glinted from one of the boys' mouths.
Wendy felt a scream build up in her own throat and her heart thrummed like a jackhammer behind her ribcage as she clutched the wall in terror. One had their head stuffed in the crook of the girl's neck and something red was smeared down her cheekbone. What was happening? Was she one of the missing girls? Was Wendy going to be next because she was a witness? Oh God, what did she do? She was going to die!
But the girl wasn't in pain.
Wendy's frantic gaze managed to study the scene further and she realized the girl's lips were open in a shocked smile, her pupils blown from exhilaration with red lipstick smudged across her cheek, and the tall blonde behind her was gripping her around the waist with a playful grin as he pulled his blunt teeth from her neck. The curly-haired blonde had his hands tangled in the girl's hair, seeming to have been tugging playfully on her rosy-tinted locks to move her head aside.
Wendy felt her insides shrivel up as embarrassment washed over her in a tidal wave and her cheeks burned red with chagrin.
Her lips flopped open like a fish, mouthing shapes that might've been words as she stared openly at the three who halted their activities to look at her. The girl seemed surprised to see her but the two boys did not, their mischievous grins unwavering as their glittering eyes landed on her frozen form.
Wendy realized a bit too late that the reason the girl's second scream sounded unsteady was because she'd been laughing.
The tall one turned his head to look at the curly-haired boy.
"Looks like we got an audience," he announced with a sly grin. He turned his attention back to Wendy whose feet were rooted to the ground. "You pervin' on us, girly?"
Wendy's brain finally made the connection to her mouth.
"N-no, I thought… I didn't…"
"Maybe she wants to join in," the tall blonde talked over her rambling, tightening his hold on the girl who squeaked with delight against his chest. The curly-haired boy giggled in response, his gaze drinking in Wendy's still form as his teeth pulled on his bottom lip.
"I heard a scream…" Wendy said in a strangled voice. It felt like her heart as lodged in her throat. "I didn't know you were… I thought someone was being…"
"Eaten?" the tall one finished for her. He looked over to his counterpart, the corner of his mouth twitching. "What do you think, Marko? Think she looks good enough to eat?" he dug his fingers into the girl's sides and she giggled.
"Think so," 'Marko' agreed, his tongue poking out to wet his lips. Wendy's heart shuddered. She needed to leave. Immediately.
"I'm just gonna—" she jabbed a shaky thumb over her shoulder, peeling her shoes off the cement to start backing up slowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean… I'm leaving now."
"You don't wanna stay?" the tall one mocked, his lips turned down in an exaggerated pout as he laid his chin on the girl's shoulder who leaned into the embrace like a magnet.
"I kind of like it when they watch," Marko added, his voice husky and raw despite his angelic baby face. Though his comment was directed at Wendy, or so it seemed, he was looking at the girl with a hunger in his eye that made her hips twitch in his direction.
Wendy flushed and before they had the chance to torment her further she spun on her heels and darted out of the alley, the boys' barks of laughter following her all the way out.
There was another shriek from the girl that was soon muffled – by what, Wendy didn't want to know – and she marched back across the street with her face as red as a tomato. Tears stung her eyes from the adrenaline and chagrin and she bit the inside of her cheek out of frustration as she stomped down the neighborhood street towards her apartment.
She felt mortified and vaguely repulsed all at once. Obviously her mind had misconstrued what was going on in her panic, but she could've sworn it looked like…
She didn't know.
Wendy shook her head as if to will the thoughts away. She could already feel a migraine forming behind her eyes and the unpleasant tugging in her stomach was only just beginning to fade away. She needed rest. And possibly a therapist.
It was a blistering hot day in Santa Carla, California. The heat from the sun's rays felt like the warmth radiating out of a brick oven and Wendy's shoulders felt raw as she helped Quincy carry the cooler full of drinks down to the beach. It was a rare occasion that the two of them had the same day off, even rarer now that Quincy was working two jobs. When all the planets aligned and they finally did have some time off, they silently agreed to spend it together. Quincy wouldn't be caught dead admitting to hanging out with his uncool little sister in his free time but she knew he took as much away from the experience as she did.
There was something different about the way they interacted when they weren't cooped up in their apartment stifled by the four walls around them. They felt like they could actually stretch out their limbs and relax which put them both in higher spirits. Quincy was less of an annoyance, not that she expected him to be on his best behavior because he was certainly incapable of that, but she found they got along much better when they didn't have to worry about the stresses of home life.
"Where do you want me to sit this?" Wendy asked, squinting beneath her flared sun hat.
"Anywhere," Quincy dismissed her with a wave, having dropped his side of the cooler in favor of prowling forward. He was already peeling off his shirt.
His response was less than helpful because the beach was crowded, suitably so considering the heatwave crashing last minute through southern California. They could've avoided this if Quincy had agreed to come earlier but apparently getting out of bed before noon was sacrilegious in his book. Naomi once referred to it as The Idiot's Guide to Quincy which made Wendy stifle a laugh. If Quincy knew about it he would've filled her pillowcase with dirty socks.
Wendy dragged the cooler down into the sand, finding a small unoccupied spot between two beach towels. She pulled the wadded up towel out of her bag and placed it next to the cooler, smoothing it out before sitting down. She had a one-piece bathing suit on but it would hardly see the light of day, covered by a large cotton white cardigan. It was light enough to keep her cool but thick enough to ward off the sun. Her skin was so sensitive it nearly burned whenever she walked outside.
She immediately began smothering her legs and face in sunscreen while Quincy scoped out the sea of bodies congregating near the shoreline, no doubt in search of his next conquest. Wendy tried to not feel queasy.
"Naomi and Gary should be here soon," she called out to him.
"Joy," he drawled, still facing away from her.
"I'm just going to read until they get here," she continued, trying to coax a half-decent response out of him.
"Boring."
Wendy shook her head before tugging a book out of her bag. She opened it to the dog-eared page before peering up at her brother warily.
"Don't you want sunscreen?" she asked. He burnt just as easily as she did. His shoulders were already starting to look a delicate shade of pink.
"No thanks, Mom."
"Don't come to me begging for a skin donor when yours burns off," Wendy retorted before lying on her stomach.
Quincy responded by pulling a water bottle out of the melting ice and shaking the cold water all over her bare legs. Wendy yelped and rolled out of the way, kicking hot sand at him in irritation. Quincy just laughed before stalking away. Wendy scowled after him before getting comfortable again.
She still felt a bit disconcerted from the night before but she tried to pass it off as paranoia and leave it be. The embarrassment still nagged at the corner of her mind like an annoying tick but she tried reasoning with herself that it wasn't likely she'd come face to face with either of them again for the humiliation to count. It wasn't easy for Wendy to let things go but for the sake of her sanity she tried.
Aside from the children that occasionally ran by screaming and giggling and kicking up sand into her book, it was relatively calm.
Wendy got through a good chapter and a half before she heard her name being called from somewhere behind her. She turned to look over her shoulder, gripping onto her sun hat to keep it from flying away when a bout of wind rolled through. Naomi waved, clutching onto a muscular guy's arm walking next to her who was dressed in a red tank top and swimming shorts. Wendy closed her sand-filled book and tucked it away in her bag as the couple approached.
"You roasting out here like I am?" was Naomi's way of greeting her as she pulled her towel free from the bag hoisted over Gary's shoulder. Gary nodded to Wendy in a silent hello and Wendy smiled back. Conversation didn't pass often between the two of them, aside from when Gary helped her with her homework. "It feels like the surface of the sun out here."
"I've already emptied half the sunscreen bottle onto my legs," Wendy told her, moving aside so Naomi could spread out her towel directly next to hers. "I'm trying really hard not to bake like a cookie. Apparently there's an excessive heat warning until tomorrow night."
"Have you been in the water yet?" Naomi asked.
"I hate the ocean," Wendy reminded her. Naomi rolled her eyes.
"You don't have to go out in the surf, you can just walk a few feet in to cool yourself off."
"But my feet touch weird things when I do that," Wendy whined a little, cringing at the thought. The ocean never ceased to terrify her. A large, deep body of water with only a small percentage of its surface discovered? She'd rather jump out of a plane with a parachute, as long as she didn't have to land in the water.
"Oh hush," Naomi scolded lightly as she pulled on a pair of sunglasses. Her rich golden skin didn't need any lotion and she stood from the towel after giving Gary a kiss on the cheek. "Come with me in the water."
Wendy stared at the hand Naomi held out to her for a second before relenting with a sigh. She accepted Naomi's hand and the girl grinned in triumph, pulling her to her feet.
"You should take the hat off so you don't lose it," Naomi gestured to the sun hat. Against Wendy's better judgment she discarded it and was more or less dragged down to the shoreline.
The water was a brazing cold and Wendy expected as much but it still pulled a gasp from her lips the second it met her toes. With encouragement from Naomi she ventured a few feet out until the water was up to her mid-thigh and that's where she drew the line. Naomi surged forward to duck under the water and when she came up her hair was wet and pressed flat against her head.
"C'mon, Wen," Naomi splashed some water at her. Wendy yelped and jumped back out of reflex before declaring war.
The two of them laughed and skipped in the shallow water for a while, splashing one another and shrieking whenever the other got too close as they ran. Wendy made sure to keep her distance from the deeper sections of the shore. The lower the water line, the faster she could run anyway. Wendy noticed a few minutes in that Gary was watching them from their towels, occasionally grinning over at them (particularly Naomi) before Quincy flopped down next to him and stole his attention.
About fifteen minutes later the two were soaked as they headed back up the beach to their towels. Wendy's cardigan was dripping with salt water and she wringed it out as she shuffled through the sand, lips turned downward at the way the sand stuck between her toes.
"Have fun prancing around out there?" Quincy asked. She tried nudging him to the side so she could sit down but he didn't budge. She stuck her sandy toes near his face and he recoiled, sliding away with a huff. Wendy grinned crookedly and sat between him and Gary.
"We did actually. Have fun staring at all the women out of your league?"
He shoved a glob of sunscreen at her in retaliation.
The four of them lingered around the beach another hour or so. Naomi eventually laid back on her towel to catch some sun, not that she really needed it. Occasionally she'd make a few remarks to Wendy about meaningless things but for the most part she kept quiet, probably dozing off. Wendy returned to her stomach where she went between reading her book and watching the ocean. It was easy to take the sea for granted when she lived so close to it her whole life, but moments like this where she looked out and marveled its grace reminded her that she lived in a beautiful city.
She thought about telling Naomi what happened last night but thought better of it, figuring for now it was best kept to herself.
Quincy and Gary eventually left to get some sugary drinks. They brought back popsicles for Naomi and Wendy and lackluster conversation passed between the four of them until they became lethargic and hot. They packed up their staff and headed back to their respective cars, agreeing to meet for dinner somewhere after they all had gotten the chance to shower and wash the ocean and sand off their bodies.
By the time the sun was close to setting they were meeting up at a restaurant at the far end of the boardwalk. It was a bit nicer than the one Wendy and Naomi worked at, a bit higher in price for not much different food. It was still a burger joint, as per Santa Carla boardwalk style, but at least the burgers looked well put together. They ate and enjoyed each other's company, all starving from lack of food. Once they finished eating they were all full and sluggish but not quite ready to turn in for the evening so they settled for walking along the boardwalk.
"There's something not right about visiting the place you work on a day you have off," Quincy noted with distain. Naomi laughed.
"That's why we didn't go to Paula's," she said, referring to the fast food diner her and Wendy worked at. She leaned into Gary as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "If I have to smell the grease from that place outside of work it makes me want to hurl."
"No kidding," Wendy agreed, her full stomach churning at the thought. She tried not to eat there if she didn't have to but considering the food was only a wall away when she was on the clock it made the temptation hard to resist. She ate lunch there on most occasions and sometimes dinner if she was working the late shift. It's a wonder she hadn't gained twenty pounds since starting there a year ago.
They wound through various game booths and kiosks waiting for something to pique their interest. Quincy eventually got distracted and split from the group, leaving Wendy with the happy couple. The nice thing about Naomi and Gary was they never left her feeling like a third wheel, even if she occasionally sneered at the lovey-dovey looks they exchanged. Her slight jealousy and revulsion was always quickly diluted by the sheer greatness of them as a couple. They always seemed to be in sync and physically they looked really appealing together, with Naomi's exotic face and Gary's impressive build.
Well, the jealousy was back but at least she wasn't revolted by their cuddling.
Gary steered Naomi towards a ball toss booth, the objective of the game being to knock down as many glass bottles as possible. Naomi and Wendy stood on either side of him as he made a few attempts after paying the attendant a dollar, tongue sticking out between his lips as he frowned in concentration. Each ball he tossed either skimmed the bottles or bounced off at an awkward angle, leaving most of them standing once he finished his turn.
"Sorry buddy," the man at the booth gave him a greasy smile. "Better luck next time."
"That's bull," Gary complained as they left empty-handed. Apparently he'd been eager to win Naomi a stuffed panda.
"You know all those games are rigged right?" Wendy asked with a hint of amusement. Gary's brows pulled down.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah," she grinned. "The bottles don't fall unless they want them to which is almost never. You know how all the booths like that require money, not tickets? Competitive people like to make bets on how many bottles they can knock over and every time they lose they keep paying the attendant for another round. It's all a scam."
He regarded her skeptically. "And you know this how?"
"My brother told me all about it. He's stiffed people tons of times on games like that."
"Isn't that considered stealing?" Gary asked, not that he sounded particular angry about it. He was mostly still miffed over the fact that he got ripped off rather than some other poor sap.
Wendy shrugged a shoulder. She'd already had this argument with Quincy back when he first told her about all the scams he'd pulled on people thanks to his lovely carnie influences. She was annoyed with him at first for cheating the game but at this point she was all but desensitized to it. It's not like he was actually threatening them to hand over their wallets, was he? Besides, the extra cash helped pay for their food.
"It's not like he's demanding money," she said. "If they're gullible enough to fall for it then what's the harm?"
Gary didn't seem wholly convinced. He made a 'hmph' sound but didn't expand on it further.
They explored the boardwalk a little more before making a familiar turn down the strip where all the shops sat. Wendy recognized Quincy talking to a petite blonde next to the video shop her and Naomi momentarily visited the other night. He was resting his arm against the wall next to the girl's head, leaning in with a grin as she shyly returned his gaze. As the three of them passed by, Wendy returned the favor from a few nights ago and slapped the back of his head right as he was about to make a move. Quincy shrank back from the sting of her palm and glared immediately over his shoulder at her, promising violence the next time they met. She smiled to herself as she followed Gary and Naomi into the video shop to find a movie to rent.
"I say we go for horror," Naomi immediately suggested once the man at the counter gave them his generic greeting. Gary tossed his head back and groaned.
"We always go for horror. Isn't there anything else you like to watch?"
"Hey," Naomi snarked. "Remember last night when I watched that—"
"And it's time to stop talking," Gary covered her mouth with his hand, tossing Wendy an awkward smile. Wendy's brows furrowed until realization struck her and she made a disgusted face.
Naomi barked a laugh and Gary rolled his eyes before jerking his hand back, sighing exasperatedly at the evil glint in Naomi's eye. He wiped his saliva-covered palm on his pants before tickling her sides and Wendy took that as her cue to leave before she had to bear witness to any PG-13 lip action.
Wendy browsed through a few shelves, not finding anything of interest but lifting a few tapes to read their summaries anyway. She found the store wasn't often crowded, not that the shops on the boardwalk were the biggest attractions. Nevertheless she enjoyed the peace and quiet. Her eyes trailed over the text of some romantic comedy before she felt a sharp tug on her hair. Her heart fell to her stomach until she heard the familiar voice hiss into her ear,
"You little twerp."
Quincy's cheeks were red as Wendy smiled innocently up at him.
"Yes, dear brother?" she asked, blinking slowly.
"Don't try to be all coy," he narrowed his eyes at her. "You totally ruined the mood and she ran off."
"I don't see how that's my fault," Wendy said lightly. "Clearly she wasn't interested."
"She was."
"And now she's not."
Wendy rejoiced silently as Quincy steamed next to her, moving a few tapes around on the shelf for the sake of doing something with his hands. After a few seconds Wendy felt the tendrils of guilt beginning to sweep through her gut and as she opened her mouth to apologize, worried that she'd been a little harsh on her brother, her voice died in her throat as a much more authoritative voice drowned it out.
"Mister Valentine."
Quincy's shoulders stiffened and he slowly put the tape back on its shelf before facing the stout balding man that appeared to have casually approached him from the back of the store. Wendy's forehead wrinkled until she noticed the officer's badge flash yellow above his breast pocket. The hairs on the back of Wendy's neck stood on end, praying that Quincy hadn't done anything stupid to warrant a visit from local law enforcement.
"Uh," Quincy cleared his throat before offering an unsteady smile. "Hey Officer Lebowski. How's it hangin'?"
"Just fine," the officer answered, choosing to ignore Quincy's use of the slang term he clearly had no appreciation for. "And how are you? Staying out of trouble I hope?"
"Yes sir," Quincy said agreeably and Wendy had to hold back her snort of derision at the sound of Quincy referring to anyone as 'sir'. The officer's beady eyes eventually trailed over to her and she appeared startled at the attention, her hopes of going unnoticed crushed beneath his scrutinizing stare. How was it that all men—and women—of authority managed to inflict worry in Wendy even though she knew she'd done nothing wrong?
"This must be your sister," the officer said, words less flat and harboring a slightly friendlier tone. "I don't believe we've met. I caught your brother taping bang snaps to the underside of men's toilet seats in the 7-Eleven a couple months back."
"Sounds like him," Wendy chuckled uneasily, flashing a heated glare at the side of Quincy's face when the officer's gaze momentarily left her face.
"Are you two out alone this evening?" Officer Lebowski then asked. "I trust you're aware of the two recent missing person's cases."
"Yep." "Of course." They chimed together. Officer Lebowski's eyebrows rose, thinly veiled amusement barely noticeable on his round face.
"What about your uncle?" the officer asked, quickly jumping from topic to topic. "What's he up to tonight?"
"Sleeping," Wendy answered at the same time Quincy blurted,
"Drinking."
They exchanged alarmed looks, Wendy's still carrying a bit of heat, and Officer Lebowski's face twisted in suspicious confusion.
"Drinking, sleeping, who even knows with this guy," Quincy covered with a forced chuckle. "The guy's such a lightweight; it only takes two beers before he's out cold. It's our day off so he's taking advantage of the empty apartment while he can."
Wendy's eyebrows rose but before she could really feel impressed with the save the officer's walkie-talkie sizzled with static. The man jumped and lifted the speaker to his ear, a muffled voice droning through the receiver. The officer nodded as if expecting the person on the other end to see it.
"Rodger," he responded. He returned his attention to the two teens in front of him, his stare lingering longer on Quincy as if the gaze could somehow derail Quincy's defiant streak. He then advised to the both of them, "Don't stay out too late."
With that, he nodded towards his partner standing a few feet away browsing the science fiction section. The two left, greeting the owner of the shop with polite nods as they passed by him and a few kids who just entered the store quickly hopped out of their way as if afraid the men would arrest them for blocking their path.
"Wonder what they're doing prowling around here," Quincy voiced Wendy's unspoken thoughts the second the two men were out of range. She frowned as she followed the officers with her eyes out the door. The man at the front desk was watching them curiously as well.
"I don't know," Wendy said absently. The girl from the night before flashed through her mind.
"We got a movie," Naomi announced, appearing out of nowhere on Wendy's right and making her jump. Naomi gave her a curious look. "You okay? We saw those police officers."
"Yeah, fine," said Wendy, still partially distracted.
"I saw them talking to you," Naomi directed her next comment at Quincy and there was a sneer on her face. "What did you do?"
"Nothing," Quincy stressed, eyeballing Naomi with a look of muted distain. Wendy had a feeling his response would've been much more colorful had Gary not been there to deck him for it. Something clicked in Wendy's mind as her attention was pulled back to the present and she turned to face her brother with an unimpressed stare.
"Bang snaps? Really?" she squinted at him. "How old are you?"
Quincy rolled his eyes. "It was Nathan's idea."
"At a 7-Eleven?" Wendy continued, her nose curling. "Don't tell me you actually touched those toilet seats with your bare hands."
"What?" Gary interjected, clearly lost. Quincy ignored him in favor of rolling his eyes at Wendy.
"We used toilet paper to lift them. We're not stupid."
"That remains to be seen," Naomi insulted. Quincy's jaw clenched. Wendy tried steering tensions away from a verbal fight.
"I can't believe you're actually on a last name basis with law enforcement."
"Technically his name's Scott," Quincy helpfully supplied as they made their way to the counter so Gary could rent the tape he and Naomi had selected.
"Oh even better," Wendy drawled.
The clerk handed Gary his change and smiled at them as they left. They started heading back towards the parking lot, Naomi and Gary lost in their own conversation ahead while Quincy and Wendy stared in opposite directions behind them. Wendy's eyes roamed the fairground, sidestepping a man on stilts as he balanced a pin precariously on top of his head much to the amazement of those observing from down below.
She slipped through the watchful group and as she turned to face the docks her measured footsteps lost their steady rhythm and she nearly lost her footing on even ground. Those same four boys were lingering near their bikes again and her gaze immediately zeroed in on the two blondes she'd seen the night before. Her heart raced at the unwanted reminder and she made to look away quickly but of course the tall one caught her stare before she could break it and he nudged the curly-haired boy next to him with an amused look. What had his name been? Mark?
The boy looked up, the colorful patchwork on his jacket gleaming under the neon lights. He put his fist up to his mouth and laughed, eyes crinkling around the edges in a clear display of mockery and Wendy's stomach rolled. He raised his eyebrows in her direction, making it clear that he and his friend both recognized her. Wendy swallowed thickly and finally disconnected the gaze, feeling like her mind had been turned inside out. She was sure the muffled echo of laughter she heard from came from them and try as she might she couldn't ignore it.
As they made to pass the information board, Wendy's attention was snagged by the missing persons' posters. Unable to ignore the insistent pull in her stomach, she tugged on Quincy's jacket to stop him. She couldn't relax until she at least had some peace of mind.
"What?" he asked, hanging back while Naomi and Gary continued on. He noticed the direction she was heading and his forehead wrinkled. "You know someone who's missing?"
"I hope not," she muttered, mostly to herself.
She reached the board and gazed intently up at the pictures, gut coiling with anxiety. It had been too dark to really make out any distinguishing features on the girl's face but Wendy was certain her hair had been rose-red. Her eyes skimmed the three flyers, studying the faces of the three girls shown on display carefully.
None of them had red hair.
Thanks for the reviews, favorites and follows so far! Glad to see the story has some readers already. Just as a quick update: I renamed the story from My Soul to Take to Angel Face because upon browsing The Lost Boys fic section I noticed another story was named the same thing and I didn't want to make it seem like I was copying them. So don't worry, still the same story just a different title. Hope you liked this one! Let me know what you think :)
xoxo