Illicit (4 page)

The counselor was nice enough and helpful, if a little chatty. But I guess that’s to be expected from an elderly lady who’ve spent her whole life in the same small town, knew everyone including my parents and could share stories about their misguided youth.

“Well now, Pete and Anna went and produced themselves a right beauty now didn’t they?”

I was back to hiding behind my hair again as I was sure she was just being nice. No one has ever accused me of being beautiful before and I knew for a fact that it wasn’t true.

Except maybe to a seventy-year old grandmotherly type who obviously needed the glasses she wore and could probably do with a new prescription. However, good manners called for an acknowledgement of the compliment misguided though it was.

“Thank you ma’am.” She beamed at my answer as she passed my class schedule and timesheet over the desk.

“And fine manners too, that ought to be a change around here.” She studied me for the longest while as if measuring her next words.

“It was a real shame what happened to your family, the news hit us hard here. They were good people your grandma and grandpa…” She broke off, maybe at the look on my face.

“My grandparents?” There was a rushing sound in my ears and my head grew light.

I felt sick to my stomach, like I was about to keel over, and something foul crept up my throat as darkness threatened to overtake me.

“Oh I’m so sorry, you didn’t know. Never mind me dear just my mouth running away with me.” She took my hand and that seemed to pull me back from the abyss. Her eyes were worried as she studied my pale face and drawn look.

“Are you okay dear should I call someone? I didn’t mean to give you a scare.”

“No it’s okay I’m okay.” I felt strange and a million questions were rolling through my head.

As far as I know I had no grandparents. Dad’s parents had died back in the Soviet Union years ago when he was a little boy and he’d been adopted by a family in the U.S. Mom never mentioned hers and I don’t think I’d ever bothered to ask after I got older.

She sniffed as she went back to her papers and I sidled out of the office more than a little confused. With my usual knack for putting things out of my mind I pushed it away for now. I’ll have to remember to ask dad at some point though.

By the time I reached my classroom door I’d already forgotten about it, I had more important things to deal with this morning. Like how I was going to get through yet another first day as the new girl.

The first class of the day was algebra. Whoever thought it was a good idea to tackle quadratic equations at eight in the morning had to be seriously twisted.

Of course I’m an ace at algebra, in fact I’m what you might call a nerd. But I’ve learned from years of experience during the lean years, when Anna moved us from state to state looking for the next sure thing, uprooting me from the new school that I’d just barely got used to; that the natives didn’t take kindly to the new girl showing off her skills.

I found a seat near the window and prayed that no one saw me, that the teacher wasn’t one of those stand up and introduce yourself types.

My heart was beating uncontrollably fast as I waited for the others to file in so I could get that first experience out of the way until the next class, where I’d have to do it all over again.

The need to bite into my fingers was strong but I’d kicked that habit just lately and didn’t wish to start again. Instead I bit into the corner of my bottom lip nervously.

I got the usual stares that were to be expected, some longer than others, but of course I kept my head stuck in my book, which I’d opened on my desk.

There were a few murmurs as people passed, but no one said anything directly to me.

I heard the whispers but ignored them; until and unless someone spoke directly to me I was going to pretend to be invisible.

Maybe I ought to work on my social skills; hiding behind a book was no way to meet new people. But I’d have to work on that another day; I had enough on my plate for now.

I breathed a sigh of relief as the teacher took his place at the front of the class and with no more than a welcome to Havenhurst Ms. Tanning proceeded to carry on with his lesson.

I itched to raise my hand each time there was a question asked that no one seemed capable of answering, but cautioned myself against it.

No sense in pissing people off my first day was it? Some of the kids didn’t even seem to be paying attention, and some were outright ignoring the seemingly frustrated man at the front of the room.

“Alright class we’ve covered this and you were supposed to brush up on it for homework. Who here can tell me what is Polynomial?” He looked around the class as people started fishing through their books for the answer.

My tongue burned as I bit into it to no avail. Don’t do it Jazz, it’s teenage suicide.

My traitorous limb, which I was going to remove at the soonest opportunity lifted itself of its own accord, throwing me under the proverbial bus.

Mr. Varner looked at me but not surprisingly, as I’m sure he’d read my file and knew my dirty little secret.

“Ms. Tanning.” He inclined his head indicating I should answer.

“A polynomial is an expression that is the sum of a finite number of non zero terms.”

You could hear a pin drop; crap I knew I should’ve kept my stupid mouth shut.

“Very good Ms. Tanning it’s rather nice to actually have someone paying attention after all the time and money I spent on achieving my education.”

That lip was really getting a work out now as I could feel the stares and glares from the people around me. I didn’t even flinch when I felt the ball of paper connect with the back of my head.

I fought back the old treacherous tears I’d been fighting since kindergarten and my first encounter with a bully.

“Azarov!”

The harsh retort from the teacher had me picking my head up with speed, just in time to see a body go by me and grab a kid from his chair. I’m not sure what was being said but whatever it was, it put fear in the one being grabbed.

He was dropped back in his chair none too gently, and as his attacker turned back towards me, I felt the air leave my body. Oh merciful heavens I’d come to Havenhurst to die.

Chapter 4

Oh holy night, it’s him, but how? That wasn’t possible was it? Oh crap he’s looking right at me.

The golden Adonis had turned from his victim, who was still clutching his throat trying to get air, and now his attention was completely focused on me.

I had no time to react, as I found myself practically being dragged from my chair with a stern “Come.”

The teacher’s repeated calls of stop, and release her at once, went totally ignored.

Poor me, I just followed where I was led like a lamb to the slaughter. I had no time to notice what the rest of the class was doing if anything, or if anyone was going to come to my rescue.

He pulled me halfway down the hallway and around the corner. Of course the hallway was empty; everyone was in class.

My breathing was choppy and erratic and man was my dad going to be mad that he brought me here to die. I was starting to go into full panic attack mode.

My heart knocked against the wall of my chest and I couldn’t seem to hold a thought. There was a mixture of dread and excitement building in the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t know which one to hold onto. Dread won out and I opened my mouth to scream.

“Stop it Jasmine.” That voice, holy crapoli, my knees started to shake even harder as I stupidly stared up into his eyes.

There was a ringing in my ears and I felt close to fainting. There was something oddly familiar about his touch that had noting to do with my dreams.

The whole thing seemed too surreal, like it was happening in another place and another time.

“Breathe baby.”

I was breathing, wasn’t I? Shoot who cares, what good was breathing when you were about to die? Just my luck the hottest guy ever created was going to be the one to finish me off. This was so unfair, why couldn’t I ever catch a break in my stupid life?

He was studying me in a very odd way, his head moving this way and that, a far away look on his face, as if he wasn’t really there. It reminded me of an owl for some stupid reason.

Why didn’t he just get it over with if he was going to finish me off? Or was he one of those predatory beings that liked to play with their prey first? And why was no one coming to my rescue here dammit? I was about to tell him to get on with it already when he finally spoke.

“I don’t understand all of what that was about, but you’re not about to die, your life’s just beginning. Welcome home.” He kissed my forehead, and with that, the confusing character turned and headed down the hallway in the opposite direction.

Wait, where had he come from, what was he doing here? Was he a student here? Always in my dreams he’d seemed older, bigger than life somehow. But nothing could’ve prepared me for the reality of him.

“Hey, how did you know my name?” Of course he was long gone by the time I thought to ask that.

“Azarov.” I tried the name out on my tongue. A soft breeze blew by me just then and tickled my ear and the hair on my neck.

I looked around for the source but there was none. There were no windows in the hallway and the door at the end was closed.

I brushed off the strange feeling as I felt my heart finally calm, only to pick up steam again, but for a whole new reason. What could it all mean?

I headed back to class not quite sure what had just happened. I’d just met the man-boy, I’d been seeing in my dreams since I was a kid.

At one time he’d been my only source of happiness. Lost in dreams of sunshine and wildflowers as he sat and watched, always with a smile.

It was only as I got older that the dreams had grown dark or what I perceived to be dark anyway.

There was always a lot of angst, heart pounding fear, and the feeling of being bound. For the last year or so, since I’d reached the age of seventeen to be exact, the dreams had changed.

Always before they were light and comforting, almost as if my dreams were making up for the crappy life I led.

The change was sudden and frightening, though now that I thought about it, I couldn’t really say why. It’s not like anything ever really happened, just an overwhelming feeling of...something impending.

But how was it possible to see him here in the flesh? Was I hallucinating or something, or did he just bear a striking resemblance to my dream prince? Somehow I didn’t think so.

There had been that feeling of knowing when he’d been dragging me from the room. And he knew my name, that wasn’t such a stretch though was it?

Probably everyone in this school of about three hundred knew the name of the new girl.

I’m pretty sure that wasn’t a regular occurrence here, new students dropping in. Still, I didn’t think that that was it.

I wonder if he had anything to do with the strange feelings I’ve been having ever since I got here?

I felt a tingling between my thighs and rubbed them together to ease the ache. My heart did a little flip in my chest as realization dawned.

He was here, and he hadn’t killed me as I’d sometimes feared, does that mean that he’d carry out what he started in my dreams, in reality?

I reached out and grabbed the wall for support as my knees almost buckled. I felt warmth against my neck and could’ve sworn I heard breathing in my ear, but there was no one there.

Where had he gone to, and why was he here? He couldn’t be a student, though from the teacher’s reaction I took him to be.

But confusingly, he’d always seemed older in my dreams; the man I’d dreamt of for so long was no high school kid.

I blushed as I thought of some of those dreams of late. There was this new undertone of something, heady, something dark mixed with something altogether sensual.

When I was younger, the dreams were a source of comfort, almost like there was someone watching over me while I slept.

Many a time it had seemed that my dreams had followed me into my waking moments, or at least the feeling of comfort had, and always when I’d needed it most.

As a teen they had changed and there was an added element of something just beyond my grasp.

The dreams started when I was too young to understand them.

At first they were a great source of comfort and security to a young girl who had no sure place in the world.

Though for the first few years, I had no real memory of what they entailed. I only remember awakening in the mornings, ready to face the new day with unbridled excitement.

My first real recollection of my life is at the age of about four or five. I know nothing before that, which, as I grew older, seemed strange.

There were no pictures around of my mom or me, no family mementos, nothing. I didn’t understand the significance of that at such a young age. It was only as a teen that I started to question the strangeness of my upbringing.

Mom was never forthcoming with details. Whenever I would ask about our lives and why we seemed so different from all the other families we came in contact with, she’d just shut down or change the subject. This went on for a long time and only fed my sense of loneliness and fear.

But then the dreams had come, just when my life was about to change again, when I was going through that change from girl to woman.

At first I didn’t know what they meant, still don’t know truth be known. I just knew they were my only solace, the only things I had to look forward to in a life that I found very confusing.

After the first time I asked mom about the boy in my dream, the one I somehow knew was Angel and she had freaked way the hell out and moved us in the dead of night. I’d learned to keep them to myself after that.

These dreams were like no others that I’d ever had before. They seemed more real, as if I had been transported somewhere else.

Somewhere where I was safe and happy, where I didn’t have to live in fear of whatever phantom was tormenting my mother. Whatever demons chased her from place to place.

Back then he would appear whenever I was feeling down or scared. I don’t know how Angel knew when I needed him but he always showed up in my dreams. I had a strange feeling that there was once a time when he hadn’t been there when I’d needed him most.

At sixteen they had changed altogether and had become darker. There was a new sense of danger, though the underlying feeling of comfort was still ever prevalent.

That’s when I’d started seeing him, first it was just his eyes, but gradually I’d seen him. It was silly I know, but I fell in love with that dream man.

Then just before I’d made the decision to come here, the dreams had changed once again. Now I was always running from someone, or something. I wasn’t sure that it was he doing the chasing, but I was always aware of his presence there as well.

Now I’d seen him in the flesh and it was all very confusing. I touched my forehead where his lips had touched me and my heart jumped. Shaking my head at my fanciful thoughts, I walked back the way I’d come.

***

I made my way back to class at a snail’s pace, constantly looking over my shoulder in the hopes that he’d show up again. I had so many questions and somehow knew that he would have the answers.

There was no sign of him by the time I reached the door, and I had no choice but to walk back to my desk, in front of the gawking students who’d all witnessed what had transpired.

“Ms. Tanning thank heavens, what did he do to you?” The teacher seemed spooked, for lack of a better word, and kept looking towards the door as if expecting him to follow behind me.

“Um, noth...nothing...um, he didn’t do anything sir.” I did my whole lost girl routine in one shot. Biting lip, check, wringing hands, check, hanging head, check, shuffling feet, check. You’re such a dweeb Jazz.

If I’d thought to avoid the attention of my new classmates I was off to a rocking start. Now, the looks were even more penetrating, and some of them were outright hostile, especially from the females.

I didn’t even bother looking at the kid who’d been roughed up; I’d decided that he must’ve been the one who threw the paper at me. How this Azarov even knew it had happened was a mystery, since he obviously hadn’t been in class.

“Where’d he go?” Why was a teacher so nervous of a kid anyway? Weird.

“I’m not sure sir, he went that way.” I pointed in the general direction Azarov had taken.

“Okay, take your seat.”

He carried on with the rest of the class like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. At the bell I hotfooted it out of there as fast as my feet would carry me, not even paying attention to the not so subtle little jabs from the blonde cheerleader type, who was shooting daggers at me with her eyes.