Tommy #2
It’s the ugliest piece of shit van I’ve ever seen and always smells like smelly weed. But he loves it, and it’s usually where we spend our weekends, getting baked and drinking.
I grab my keys out of my backpack and flick them in my hand but hesitate. I have my own new baby my parents bought me at the beginning of the year—a shiny blue Camaro parked right next to his.
To avoid them, I hurry toward the bleachers, shifting my backpack. My insides might burst, and this looks like a good hiding spot. I need a minute not to be me.
I stretch out my legs and drop my head into my hands, wondering how the hell I ended up here.
This is my senior year; I should be scoring with chicks, smoking joints with Bax, and raising hell with my best friend.
Instead, people are dropping dead, my best buddy is ignoring me, and I’m bombing math class.
“Dammit.” My growl echoes off the bleachers as I slam my fist into the hard metal and pain radiates up my arm. “Fucking. Motherfucker,” I curse as pain radiates up my arm. A tiny gasp from somewhere in the dark corner of the bleachers catches my attention and I freeze.
I whip my head around as someone shifts beside me.
My jaw tightens. “Who the hell is here?”
It’s quiet, just the muffled sounds of my classmates outside, but the heavy presence of someone else lingers. Whoever it is, they are trying to hide, so I edge closer and deeper under the bleachers, and she shifts into the single beam of sunlight casting in from outside.
Her eyes, specifically the whites of them, catch my attention first, and when our eyes meet, my heart skips a beat.
I’m speechless seeing her here like this, hiding in the dark. She’s awfully pretty.
Her eyes glisten. Her eyebrows and lashes, along with her two perfect tight braids, are brilliant white.
This girl is glowing and looks like an angel sent directly to me from heaven.
My hands turn clammy. “Hey,” I say, realizing that I probably just scared the shit out of her.
She blinks twice, as if she’s surveying me as closely as I am her.
I’ve been trying to check her out all week.
Her head is always down, her shoulders hunched, and she hides under her baggy dresses.
She has no idea how beautiful she is. Instead of responding, she folds back into the shadows and diverts her eyes.
“Diana, right?” I reach out my hand to her. “I’m Tommy.”
Her lips part, but panic flashes across her face, and she looks away. Her eyes dart to the small opening on the side of the bleachers, at the ray of sun, and glaze over. She seems to look right through me as if they don’t work at all.
Is she blind?
She reminds me of a creature of the night…or a firefly.
“Hi,” she finally says, taking my hand, and her eyes change color.
I lean back on my hand and kick my legs out so my bell-bottoms hang loose, trying to play it cool.
Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.
“We have math together, I think.”
“I know.”
Not cool, Tommy. Math, really?
Dammit. I’ve never been this tongue tied before.
She relaxes slightly but still keeps her distance and presses her back into the cold siding.
I scratch my mustache. “What are you doing under here, Diana?”
She keeps her eyes cast downward to the textbook she has on her lap “I’m hiding,” she admits.
“Yeah.” I laugh. “Me, too.”
She smiles shyly and seeing that small smile makes my angry heart melt a little. I scoot closer to her. She has nowhere to go; the shadows are swallowing her whole and again, she visibly panics by my slight movement.
No wonder she’s frightened; I just got into a fight with metal and lost. “I’m not going to hurt you,” I tell her. “Despite what you just saw, I’m really not a violent guy.”
That eases her apprehension and her shoulders relax. “Are you going to hurt that bleacher again?” she teases.
I shrug, biting my lip. “I’ll apologize if that makes you feel better and talk to me.”
She can’t hide the smile that slips out of her. “I’d like that. I don’t think it did anything to you.” I move even closer, and she flicks her gaze up at me. This girl’s been the talk of the town for the last few days, and no one knows anything about her.
Superstitious freaks.
I keep my gaze fixed on her and smirk. “I’m sorry, Mr. Bleacher…even though you’re the one who broke my hand.”
She giggles and hell, if it’s not the cutest sound I’ve ever heard.
“Is that better?” I ask her, scratching the back of my neck. She’s not the only one nervous.
She nods and finally moves back into the ray of light so I can see her. Every day she’s worn the same ivory dress. Girls like Cindy snicker, but she looks elegant.
Timeless, like she doesn’t really belong here. Misunderstood.
I reach my hand out to her. “Do you, uh…want to eat lunch with me?”
Pausing, she gently takes my hand in hers and crawls to me filling the space between us. I love the feel of her small, velvety hands against mine, until a sudden, sharp pain in my arm makes me wince.
Her eyes widen, and she pulls away. “Oh. I’m sorry.”
I grimace until the pain subsides a bit. “Yeah, I might have sprained it.”
I use my other hand and pull at her waist, just above her hip bone, which causes her to wince and scramble backwards.
Damn. She’s skittish.
I shift uncomfortably. “What’s wrong?”
She sucks in a long breath. “Nothing. Just…please don’t touch me.”
I lift my hands. “Okay… I promise I won’t touch you again.”
I’m backtracking, badly. I want to see her smile again, but I’m freaking her out.
I stare at her for a few seconds. Now that I’ve seen her up close, I can’t unsee her. I can’t stop looking at her.
“What are you looking at?” she asks me, wrapping her arms around her knees.
“I’ve never seen anyone who looks like you before.”
Her lips tremble. “I wish you wouldn’t look at me like that.”
Damn, Tommy. Now you made her cry.
I divert my gaze, suddenly feeling like a piece of shit for getting in her space. My stomach growls, so I grab my sandwich, and when I glance back up again, she’s staring at me. Or rather, she’s staring at my food.
I arch my brows softly. “Are you hungry?”
She nods quickly, too quickly, and it breaks my heart. It doesn’t seem like she eats much. I hand her half of my sandwich. I’d give her the whole damn thing if I didn’t just run for an hour straight.
We eat in silence. She glances at me every few minutes, and the whites of her eyes seem to peer into my soul.
She sits with her legs to the side, and I can tell something is off. She’s physically uncomfortable. When she’s done, she ignores me like I’m not even here and picks up her textbook she has lying on the ground next to her.
I relax, stretching my legs out again. “How can you read anything in here?” I ask as she flips the pages.
She glances up at me, her soft features flickering. “I can’t read out there. I’m sensitive to bright lights.”
I pinch my brows together. “Is that why you’re sitting here in the dark?”
“That’s one reason.”
“And what’s the other reason?”
She hoods her eyes. “I’m legally blind, so I can see better in dim light. If I’m being honest, I find the darkness calming. I get overwhelmed in the daylight and around people.”
Damn, she is like a firefly.
“What made you get into a fight with the bleachers?” she asks, turning the tables on me.
I feel her eyes on me as I scramble for an answer. “Same, I guess. Hiding.” Thankfully, she doesn’t ask me from whom, because the answer is everyone, but especially Remy.
“You just moved into the old Sheffield place on the outskirts of town, right?” I ask her.
Confused, she narrows her eyes. She doesn’t know who that was, or how creepy the house she lives in is.
“Yeah, that’s right,” she says. “I didn’t think you noticed me.”
“Small town, people talk here. Plus, you’re hard not to notice, Diana. You’re different from everyone else here.”
What a stupid thing to say. Of course, she knows she’s different.
A blush hits her cheeks. “I’m just here to finish up a couple of credits, then I’ll be gone. I’m not here to make friends.”
“Is it scary there?” I ask her.
“Scary where?”
I pause for a moment. “The Sheffield house. Remy, Bax, and I used to sneak into that place when we were kids. Freaked the shit out of me.”
Her eyes flicker. “You and Remy are friends?”
“Yeah. We used to be best friends.” Why is she asking me about Remy? “Has anyone told you what happened there?”
She deserves to know. Everyone finds out how disturbed this town is eventually.
She swallows hard and purses her lips. “I don’t believe in ghosts, and bad things happen everywhere. Sometimes all it takes is one good thing to shift the energy in a place. I’m aware there was a murder there—I figured that part out. So you can spare me the rest of the details.”
I don’t like it—I don’t like it at all. No one should be living there. That place was condemned, and there is someone still out there killing people…
It’s still happening.
I pull out my notebook and scribble my number on it and hand it to her. She takes it from me tentatively, staring down at it.
“What’s this?”
“It’s my phone number in case you need it.”
She shakes her head and hands it back to me. “I won’t need it.”
“It’s not that, it’s…”
She squinches her brows together. “It’s what?”
How do I begin to explain? That his daughter and wife weren’t the only people he murdered. How can I explain Shadowface without scaring the living shit out of her. Even though I don’t fully understand who that is. It’s the name they blame when a dead body shows up and no one can find the killer.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
She pulls into herself. “No. You shouldn’t have.”
Okay. She’s fierier than I thought she’d be, which is kind of a turn-on. I wonder if anyone’s ever kissed her, or more importantly, what she’s like under that bulky dress.
“I should go,” she finally says.
I frown. “Why?”
“I shouldn’t be talking to you. My mama wouldn’t like it.” She meets my gaze.
“Well, luckily for me, she isn’t here, Didi.”
Her head tilts and brows arch. “Didi?”
“Can I call you Didi? I think it suits you. Or I could call you firefly.” She blinks twice, as if testing the name.
“Didi… Yeah, I suppose you can call me Didi, but not firefly.”
I grin. “Whatever you say, firefly.” I bite my lip to keep from laughing. The bell rings, but she doesn’t move.
“Okay, firefly. It’s time to go back to class.”
She squeezes her lips together and starts to crawl out, rubbing past me. I place my hand on her waist to help, and she freezes, sucking in a breath. Right, no touching. I pull my hand away, and she continues.
“Didi?” I whisper before she has a chance to disappear.
She turns to face me, a beam of light shining through the darkness, making her glow. “Yeah, Tommy?”
“Will you meet me here tomorrow? I’ll share my lunch with you again.”
A ghost of a smile hints at her lips. I get the sense Didi doesn’t smile too much. And if she gives me another lunch hour, I’ll happily take it and make her smile more.
“Yeah, I suppose.”
Then she disappears, leaving me alone in the dark. I lean back and watch her leave as an intense rush hits my core as if nothing else matters now but meeting her again tomorrow.
In the last few minutes, she’s somehow completely consumed my thoughts.
I’ll see you then, firefly.