Guard My Heart (9 page)

And that’s how I died.

I’m a phantom, a ghost. I’m your worst nightmare. 

My name is Runner and I could tell you a story, but this
isn’t a story.

This is my life.

ELEVEN
MONTHS AFTER KYLE’S DEATH

MIA

I could tell you a story about love and sunshine and of
all being right in the world. But I won’t, because that isn’t my story.

My story is so sweet it will make your teeth rot. My story
is so real it will make you believe in fairy tales. My story will rip your
heart out and leave you bleeding all over the pages.

Outcast, rebel, misfit, all those words applied to me.
Until I met him.

I fell in love once.

All it took was seven days. Seven days and my heart
turned, twisted, and thumped right next to his.

But not all stories have a happy ending…

Take a walk with me down memory lane

It won’t be dull, it won’t be plain.

Heed my warning – hear my plight,

At the end of this tunnel,

THERE IS NO LIGHT!

I thrust my leg into my favorite faded and most worn
jeans. My toe catches on the tear at the knee. I yank it up and tear it to shit.
Damn it! I don't have time to put on another pair or allow my heart the sadness
it feels at losing one of my few wearable items of clothing. With a heavy sigh,
I grab my shoes and backpack lying by my room door. I hobble along on one leg
trying to put my shoes on as I go. Noises from the kitchen stop me in my tracks.
I don’t want a run-in with Mom so early in the morning. If I keep my head down
and walk straight past, she might not notice me. Fat chance. I look down and
search in my hoodie pockets for my
earphones. I pop
them into my ears.

“Mia-Jae, you are not going to school like that,” Mom’s
voice catches up with me before I can turn up the volume. By
that
she
means my torn jeans and oversized hoodie. Thankfully, she can't see my hair
courtesy of the hoodie. I tuck the bright red strand falling into my eyes back
behind my ears just in case. She'd probably change my face if she could. I tuck
my chin down and walk faster. I'm almost at the door when I hear her throw
something into the sink. It’s a glass, the sound of the pieces shattering cuts
deep into my heart. I don't want to be a bitch—honestly, Mom deserves better—but
I've got my own shit to deal with since college started again.

I just wish this whole damn year was over already. I hate
that damn place. I hate all the jock straps and bitch tramps roaming its
passages. Isn’t it supposed to be better than high school? Aren’t they supposed
to grow up? Our small town offers little in entertainment, so they get creative
and make up bullshit stories to occupy their otherwise useless existence. I
wish they’d all trip and fall mercilessly into the big hole representing our
dusty little town. If you sneeze hard enough, you can find yourself clear
across the wrong side of your intended destination.

It’s a twenty minute walk to school. I turn it into ten
with my half jog. 

I hate being the last to class. I don't need people
staring at me anymore than they already do. And today my trusty jeans guarantee
me a shining place right in the spotlight. Plus, spending time alone dawdling
outside means DS might show. Yeah, not a good idea. I never know which side of
my conscious might win. What normal almost-nineteen-year-old has voices
screaming in her head? I'm practically dueling with two people in my head all
the time. I call them Dark and Sanity. It’s also the name of the voice behind
my poems. I never thought I'd be good at anything, until Kyle…I shake my head
viciously, so not going back there. Memories are dangerous territory. Don't
think I'm crazy, I'm not.

I dig in my back pack for the last smoke I stashed inside
before I walked home from the parlor last night. Thank goodness Alec lets me
hang around there, otherwise I might have really lost my shit long ago.

I slip around the corner from the front entrance of the
school and light my smoke. There are still a few kids mulling around before
class, chatting cozily in their little groups. I have exactly seven minutes
before my first class starts. I take a deep drag, welcoming the toxic essence
deep into my lungs before blowing it out slowly.

My chipped black fingernails catch my eye, and I look down
at my torn jeans. There's a huge gaping hole over my knee. Mentally I cringe,
thinking of all the unwanted attention it’s going to get me.

I'm still staring at my jeans when my cell starts that
annoying beeping sound warning me my battery is flat. I pull my earphones out
with a huff and turn off the music. No point in pushing it, it will only die on
me.

I turn my head in the direction of an unfamiliar truck
coming to a stop a few feet away from me. Three guys climb out and wave to the
driver before he drives off. Instinctively, I take a step back, deeper into the
shadow of my little corner.

I study the guys approaching the front stairs leading up
to the building. From the smiles of the two in front, I can tell they are not
from this campus. Not even a dud like me can miss smiles like those. Naughty
smiles, promising mischief. From what I can see, both guys in front are good
looking. Pitter-patter, my heart beats in my chest. The third guy walking
slightly behind them has his hoodie pulled up over his head. Just like me.
Pieces of pitch black hair fall across his forehead. His head is down, his eyes
staring at the concrete as his black boots slap down on it.

One of the guys in front looks around the front entrance
to the school. Then his eyes land on me and he smiles. A full mega watt,
I-caught-you-staring smile. My heart starts beating faster, and I swear it’s
going to grow wings and blast its way right through my choked up
throat.

“Well, hello there,” the guy in front says in a creepy
voice. Or at least I think he is trying to sound creepy. To me he just sounds
too loud in my quiet space. I take another step back, pulling my sleeves over
my hands. His friend next to him chuckles while eyeing me up and down. The
first guy who spoke takes another step forward, peering around me into my
corner. Pitter-patter, my heart flutters nervously. “Smokers’ corner?” he asks
me, his lip tipping up on a grin. The move reveals a cute little dimple in his
cheek. I shake my head and reach down for my backpack. The guy with the hoodie
moves in next to me and lights a smoke. THUD, THUD, THUD, my heart fights my
breast bone. I clutch my bag tighter; I don't trust people this close to me. I
don’t know if the wind changes or if fate is playing a cruel trick on me. The
air carries an intoxicating smell right to my frantic thudding heart. THUD,
THUD, THUD. I imagine an open plain filled with wildlife. An unsuspecting prey
and a predator lurking in the tall grass. I know I should run, but like the
stupid prey in the wild, I stand frozen even though I smell the danger.
Run,
Mia!
Sanity screams in my head. But Dark, loving the rush, keeps my feet
planted to the earth. I choke on that thought for a second and risk a quick
look at the guy in the hoodie to see if he saw my reaction, but his head is
still down. He gives nothing away.

“Well, Jase says it's now a smoking section. My name is
Lewis and this is James,” the creepy-voice guy says while pointing to the
smiling guy next to him. James is handsome enough, if you're into that baby
face kinda look. He smiles at me, a smile that makes my skin warm. I haven't
had a smile from a fellow student in months. That's probably the smile that
makes the girls all giggling and putty. Now I know I'm defective. I want a
refund on this life. It’s just not fair. I should be able to go giggly and
puddle to the floor at the sight of a good-looking guy. I look back at Lewis.
He is definitely the naughty one in the group. Probably egged a few houses and
broke a couple of hearts along the way too. Wouldn't be too hard with those
pretty blue eyes and dimples.

“Jase, are you going to share?" Lewis asks the guy with
the hoodie.

Jase lifts his head. Holy vampires on a sugar diet, my
knees buckle and my lungs collapse. I reach for my bag with shaky fingers and a
malfunctioning heart not pumping enough blood to my brain. I miss the strap
twice before I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath. Please don’t let
them see what a fumbling idiot I am. I sling my bag over my shoulder and almost
knock myself in the back of the head. I push pass Lewis and James, mentally
willing my jello legs forward.
Great, Mia, that’s just great, now you’re
late for class
, Sanity screams in my head. For once, Dark keeps her mouth
shut. I think she’s still in that corner drooling over Jase.

I rush through the empty halls and come to a standstill in
front of the closed door of my classroom. Shit! I lean my forehead against the
rough surface of the off-white wall. I’m breathing back tears to the point of
hyperventilation. What’s wrong with me? I should just skip this class, but I
have no smokes and my phone is flat. What do I do for an hour until the next
class starts?

I hear the loud sound of male voices and turn to look down
the empty passage. Lewis, James, and Jase are heading straight for me. Double
shit! Please don't let them come this way. I notice Jase still has his head
down, his hands tucked into his pockets. I suck a deep breath into my lungs and
grab the door handle. In my rush to get inside, I push it too hard and the door
cracks against the wall. I drop my head and feel my cheeks flame. I'm such an
idiot. I rush towards my seat without looking up. I try my best to dig out my
book without looking up at the amused snickers around me. Mr. Solomon starts
saying something to me, but his attention is pulled away by the loud voice of
Lewis announcing their arrival. I sink lower into my chair. As luck has it,
there are only two open spaces left. The two at the table right in front of me.
I chose this spot because nobody likes to sit in this section. That leaves the
table in front of me open at all times. 

You have to crank your neck or turn your entire desk to
see whatever is on the projection screen. Lewis grabs the extra chair next to
Mr. Solomon’s table, leaving the old teacher scowling at his back. Lewis really
is something else. He adds the extra chair to the end of their table. A few
excited giggles reach my ears. No doubt the preppy princesses are scouting the
new guys. Fresh meat and souls to suck dry. Girls can be so slutty. I wonder if
anybody has seen what hides under the hoodie. Just thinking of those deep green
eyes has my heart thudding loudly.

Lewis slaps his hand down hard on my desk. The move makes
me jump, and I glare at him, silently cursing him to the lowest circle of hell.
He winks at me, and for a moment I'm lost. Not because of the move he is making
but at his inability to recognize an outcast.

“Don't mind him. He is a sucker for a pretty girl," James
says throwing that smile at me again. I snort at him silently. Pretty? Me? Yeah
right, maybe before
never
.

“It doesn't seem fair that you know our names, but you
haven't told us yours," James states in a quiet voice, but the cocky crook of
his brow makes me believe he isn’t quite as innocent as he wants me to believe.
Is he being serious right now? Why does he want to know my name? Then I see him
winking at Lewis. And I realize I'm just a game to them. They don't look like
the typical jock crap crowding these halls, but just because their jeans are
torn and they have some leather, doesn't mean they are any different. 

“DS,” I say, looking him straight in the eye as I flash
him my most evil smile. I should’ve put on some dark liner this morning. It
normally keeps the annoying bastards away. The charming smile on his face
falters for a second before he shakes his head and claps Lewis on the back.

“What's that stand for…Mia-Jae Andrews?” Lewis asks with
his boisterous voice ringing out in the classroom. He turns my backstabbing
book, with my name in bold letters on the front, back towards me. I can’t help
notice how big his hands are or that they are stained with…grease? I grab my
book and pull it close to my chest with a huff. Great, now I’m really shielding
myself with literature. And they’re not even my poems. Great hero I am, I think
to myself. I stare dead in front of me. I'm not going to be a willing
participant in whatever sick game they are playing with me. I can’t help notice
Jase sitting quietly facing the front of the class. He doesn’t seem bothered by
their childish little game. His hoodie is still pulled up over his head.

Mr. Solomon gives the page number in the textbook, and the
rustles of turning pages signal the beginning of class. I find the required
page and pretend to read along with him.

“Uh, Mr. Solomon, sir, we don't have any books yet. Maybe
we can share with the lovely Mia?” I look up at the mention of my name and
straight into the cocky grin of Lewis. My eyebrows draw down and my mouth
tightens. If looks could kill, Lewis would be twitching on the floor. But
nothing happens, not even a slip of his lips. Maybe my fist can take care of
that? I’ve never actually hit anybody, but for him I’m willing to haul out the
ninja. I almost laugh out loud at my ridiculous thoughts, but then I remember
I’m caught in a stare down.

“Very well. Mia, move over to their table,” Mr. Solomon
says, sounding very bored and flicking his hand at me. My eyes dart over to the
old teacher. Even he can see the game these two are playing. I stand up roughly
and let my chair scrape across the floor, demonstrating my annoyance like a
disgruntled five-year-old. As soon as my ass is in the air, Lewis grabs my
chair and puts it on the other side of the table. My back will now be facing
the teacher, and my front facing the three of them. I grab my book from my
table and sigh. I should’ve skipped class, I should’ve stayed in bed. I
should’ve never gone home last night. I should’ve done everything different to
keep me from this situation. I keep my head down; thankfully, I still have my
hoodie over my head. When I reach my chair I spread the book open on the desk.
I stare at the page until the words blur. I refuse to look at the guys sitting
in front of me. I can’t risk looking up. Even just sitting here opposite Jase,
my heart is pounding loudly. It’s beating so hard I’m sure it’s bruising my
flesh.

A hand turns the page, and I stare at the words until I'm
sure I'm squinting. The move is so small, just a tiny shift in his seat that I
catch from the corner of my eye. I can't help it; my eyes immediately go to
his, and he is looking right at me. Damn, those are some soul-baring eyes.
Green and haunted with dark shadows. I get a silly little vision of me:
smiling, bare foot, skipping through a green meadow. I'm full out swooning right
here in class. His lips curl into a wicked smile. I wage the war on my lungs,
struggling to breathe, and wonder if I should return that smile. But it happens
so quickly. I'm not even sure I really saw it before he drops his head again
and those pitch black strands cover his face. Jase is…I can’t even find the
right word. Gorgeous? Wicked? Bad news? Delicious bad news that makes my mouth
water and my belly act out. Damn it, I've been doing okay on my own. I should
keep it that way.