Sparks: Chapter One

Hayden:

                “Relax your arm,” Luke orders. “Take a deep breath. You’re too tense.”

                I let my arm limp slightly, keeping it tense enough to hold up the bow, and inhale. Exhaling, I close my eyes and release the arrow from my grip. With a whoosh it surges forward and slams into its target with a thump. My eyes flutter open at the sound, and I find the sleek black rod embedded in the wooden post.

                A chuckle sounds from behind me and I allow myself to smile a bit, lowering the bow and glancing back. Luke has his arms crossed, a proud gleam in his eyes, and a crooked smile surrounded by charcoal stubble. His blonde-haired little boy latches to the side of his legs, resting his temple against them as he looks up at me with a twinkle in his teal eyes.

                “Sixteen in a row,” he congratulates. “You’re getting better at this, Hay.”

                “Well, I should be,” I retort. “You’ve been pounding it into my skull for the past eleven years.”

                His lips crack into a full smile and he tilts his head to one side, nodding towards the house. Our bluish-black coated Australian cattle dog comes running from the other way, its moist snout brushing against my right palm. Luke scoops up Elijah and turns to the mansion in the background as I scratch the dog behind her ears.

                “C’mon, Rocks,” I say, whistling as I motion to the building.

                She bolts ahead and catches up to Luke as he walks through the autumn-shaded grass. Returning to the fence post, I yank the arrow from the wood and return it to the quiver hanging over my shoulder. I sigh and turn to the house, subconsciously walking in the same path as my older brother and his son had.

                As I go, I brush my fingers over the tattoo on my right wrist and flex my fingers. Instead of sparking slightly like my brother’s do, they stay dull and completely human. With a deep sigh, I look up and cross through the open door. I hang the bow and quiver on the coat rack and place my jacket over it.

                “What do you feel like for dinner, Hayden?” Luke calls from another room.

                “Ice cream!” Elijah squeals.

                A hearty chuckle sounds from the same room as the boy, and a grin breaks across my face.

                “Not you, Eli,” Luke says. “I was asking Uncle Hayden.”

                “But I want ice cream…” Elijah whines.

                I slip my converse off and step into the kitchen, finding Elijah sitting on the counter and Luke looking in the fridge. They both turn to me as I enter, all smiles and laughs.

                “I wouldn’t mind ice cream,” I say.

                As I lean against the doorframe, Luke studies me. He tenses his jaw a bit and sighs, closing the fridge. He snatches the phone off the hook on the wall and punches in a few buttons.

                “Pizza then,” he murmurs.

                I flash a smile and push off the door, crossing the tile to Elijah. His fists open and close in desire to be picked up, and I let a chuckle out before appeasing him. He slips comfortably in my arms, hoisted on my hip, and watches his father order a pepperoni pizza.

                When Luke hangs up, he pushes his cropped black hair back and pulls himself atop the counter. He returns the phone to its hook and gently pries Elijah off of me, setting him on his lap. Patting the spot beside him, he scoots over a bit and lets out another sigh.

                “I know that look on your face,” he says in a hushed tone, eyeing me. “What’s on your mind?”

                I glance down at my hands, running my fingers over the purple triangle on my wrist again. Sighing, Luke wraps his fingers around my right wrist and pulls it away from my other. He shakes his head at me and shifts Elijah on his hip.

                “I don’t know why you keep doing that to yourself,” he says the same way.

                “Doing what?” I glance at him, my teal eyes trained on his.

                The doorbell rings before he can answer. He shifts Elijah onto my lap and jumps off the counter, casually stepping to the front door. I sigh and stay where I am, bouncing Elijah up and down on my knee. His light giggles fill the house, and it temporarily takes my mind off of my predicament.

                Luke returns with an eighteen-inch, cardboard box smelling of grease and cheese. The grin on Elijah’s face spreads, and I stop bouncing him up and down. My brother sets the box on the counter and opens it up. Steam wafts from the pie up through the air, stirring my stomach.

                I slide off the counter and set Elijah on the floor, watching him waddle to his father before following. Scooping him up, Luke tickles his son and carries two plates separated by a finger in one hand. He heads into the enormous living room and leaves me to pick up my own. Plopping two pieces on a plastic plate, I close the box and follow them into the other room.

                The father-son pair sits on the black leather couch before our flat-screen, watching an old Bonanza episode. I take the spot beside Luke and sigh, taking a bite of my pizza. As Michael Landon’s character rides to the rescue of a damsel in distress again, Luke elbows me.

                “Yeah?” I look at him.

                He runs his near-turquoise eyes over my face once more before speaking.

                “Stop thinking about it,” he orders.

                His eyes return to the screen, his teeth cutting through a slice of cheese and bread.

                “Thinking about what?” I ask, watching him.

                The damsel is saved on screen, Elijah clapping as Michael Landon helps her up. Luke doesn’t respond right away, instead smiling admirably at his son. My tongue sizzles slightly from the spicy pepperoni as I wait, and I make to get up and pour a glass of water for myself when he starts talking again.

                “Not having anything,” he looks at me.

                I don’t respond, standing and walking to the kitchen. Once there, I remove a glass from the cabinet and take a pitcher from the fridge. I pour myself some water and slip the pitcher back on its shelf, returning to my seat.

                “You’ll find it eventually,” he continues as I take a sip. “Mom and Dad would have known if you—“

                “You always say stuff like that,” I interrupt, setting my glass down.

                “Stuff like what?” he asks.

                I groan and glance at him.

                “You always make it seem like Mom and Dad knew everything,” I explain. “Obviously they didn’t. Otherwise they’d still be here.”

                His eyes turn hard, like glass, and I almost regret what I said. Shaking my head, I stand and take my trash back into the kitchen before he can scold me. After I throw the plate away and empty the glass, I start up the wooden stairs to my room.

                “Hayden… come back down here,” he calls, his voice void of any anger.

                “I’ve got homework,” I lie.

                I lock the door behind me and collapse on my bed, staring at the ceiling in the dim light. My fingers lace behind my head as a sigh escapes my lips.

                Why am I different?

                The question revolves in my mind a few times before I give up, turning on my side. I face the window and take a deep breath, watching the scarlet and mustard-colored trees sway back and forth in the breeze, a few leaves shedding from the branches and slowly floating to the ground.

                Maybe I’m not…

                I pull my phone from my pocket, the device vibrating in my hand, and feel my heart race inside my chest at the name on the front. Elizabeth. My finger presses the accept-call button before I can rationally think about it, bringing the device to my ear.

                “Hey,” I answer with a smile.

                “Hey there, bestie,” she replies. “What’s up?”

                I hesitate, not sure what to say right away.

                “Nothing… just lying here,” I end up with.

                “Yeah? Well, what about a movie?” she asks. “You know, like last Thursday?”

                I bite my lip and glance at my bedroom door, thinking. Would Luke notice if I snuck out again?

                “Sure,” I say. “Mind picking me up on the corner again? Luke would notice if I took a car.”

                “I’ll be there in ten. Be thinking of a movie,” she says in a sing-song voice.

                Smiling, I agree before hanging up. I stand and change into a black shirt and dark jeans, heading downstairs. Luke and Elijah are still on the couch, giggling at a PBS program. I slip past the door and slide my converse on, jacket following. Silently, I open the front door and make a run for it.

                Using the approaching darkness to my advantage, I pass through the front gates and turn the corner. Reaching the edge of the street, I lean against the stop sign and wait for the familiar cherry Mustang. When it arrives, I smile and push myself off the sign. The window rolls down and a perfect white smile with shining brown eyes appears.

                “Well?” she raises an eyebrow. “Get in.”

                I roll my eyes and finger the door handle, glancing back at the mansion. A sick feeling in my stomach, I hesitate before dropping in the passenger seat and bringing the seatbelt across my waist. Elizabeth shakes her head at me and flicks me in the side of the head, speeding off.

                “Don’t flick me,” I chuckle, glancing at her.

                My heart races again, taking in her wavy brunette hair and marble complexion, and I have to remind myself that she doesn’t understand my feelings. I drop my gaze and run a hand through my hair quick, looking out the window.

                “What movie are we going to see?” she asks, turning the radio down a bit as a Taylor Swift comes on.

                “Uh, whatever you want,” I reply.

                I look back at her and she smiles at me, shaking her head with a sigh.

                “You always make me choose,” she mutters.

                My lips break into a grin, “Well, it was your idea.”

                She hits me and I chuckle, watching her as she focuses back on the road. My mind races ahead with thoughts that shouldn’t make any sense, images of my lips against hers and her hand encased in mine, before I force myself to look away.

                She’s your best friend. Let it be, Hayden.

                Elizabeth pulls into the park instead of the movie theater, and I send her a confused expression. With a smile, she shakes her head and hops out of the Mustang. I watch her skip ahead through the dim light before flashing a smile and deciding to follow.

                I run to catch up, biting my lip before tackling her to the ground. She laughs and falls to the ground below me, the sunglasses perched atop her head sliding off. A thick smile spreads across my face, and then flickers when I realize how close our faces are to each other.

                My heart stops.

                I get a hold of myself and quickly move off of her, sitting up.

                “You okay?” she asks, slowly losing her smile.

                She sits up and runs her eyes over my face, causing a shiver inside me.

                “Yeah,” I force a smile. “I just have a lot on my mind. I thought we were going to the movies…”

                She hesitates before matching my smirk, standing and holding a hand out for me. I take it with hesitation and pull myself to stand, releasing it reluctantly after I’m set. Turning, she continues walking through a tunnel of sorts, surrounded in vines and branches from the oaks hanging above. I follow her, wondering what she is up to.

                We exit the tunnel and find ourselves in the edge of a valley, beneath a starry sky. A light smile pulls across my face, remembering the last time we were here.

                “God… how long has it been?” she sighs, gripping my wrist.

                She pulls me down to the basin and plops in the dewy grass, dragging me with her. Dropping beside her, I lie down and release a sigh. My eyes run over the sky, making out a few of the constellations I used to love so much.

                “Four years,” I whisper, looking back at her.

                The moonlight reflects off her skin, making my knees ache. I tempt the thought, for a moment, of leaning in quick and pouring my soul into her. Then I come to my senses and look back up at the sky.

                I’m screwed.

                She sighs and shakes her head, scooting closer so our sides are touching in remake of a childhood memory. My body ignites in reaction and I feel my face redden slightly, eye-widening thoughts crossing my mind.

                “Four years,” she muses. “Seems like forever ago.”

                I swallow, clearing my head with a deep breath.

                “It does,” I agree.

                The songs of crickets and cicadas fill the empty air, relaxing the both of us. The air, chilled, brushes delicately across our exposed skin and nips slightly at our cheeks, reddening our ears and noses. Winter sends its greetings to autumn, reminding her that he’ll have to take over soon.

                “What do you think of Olivia Cane?” she breaks the silence.

                I furrow my brow for a second and glance at her, confused.

                “Why?” I ask.

                “Answer my question first,” she says, expressionless.

                I study her, contemplating just lying and telling her I’m asexual or something extreme so she’ll stop trying to set me up with girls I can’t feel anything for.

                “She’s… decent,” I end up with. “Why?”

                “’Cause she told me she likes you,” she looks up at the sky.

                “So?”

                “So, I told her I’d talk to you.”

                Groaning, I face the stars again and shake my head. Every few weeks, she would bring up the name of a girl in one of our classes and ­convince me to do something about it. I would oblige her, appease her, but then let the girl down easy. I love Elizabeth, and it isn’t fair to pretend to be interested in anyone else.

                “No, Lizzie,” I say.

                “C’mon, Hay. Face it. You need a girlfriend, badly,” she tells me. “I mean, think of how much happier you’d be.”

                “I don’t need a girlfriend to be happy,” I respond. I just need you.

                “Hayden, ugh,” she shakes her head. “Next you’re going to tell me you like guys…”

                “If I did, would you stop setting me up?”

                She elbows me and sits up. Smiling, I stay where I am and watch her.

                “You won’t even talk to her?” she asks, glancing at me.

                “No,” I reply.

                Sighing, she faces forward and stops trying to convince me. I’m tempted to sit up, wrap an arm around her, and press my lips against her exposed neck in that moment. I want to whisper those secret three words in her ear, make her shiver like the sight of her does to me.

                But I don’t.

                I look back up at the stars and let the silence take us over again, and she continues to think as she watches the grass sway in the breeze.

                “I don’t understand you,” she whispers. “You’re, like, the only guy I know who doesn’t want someone to lay every Friday night, and who doesn’t want a girl to hang on his arm. You’re… perfect. It bothers me.”

                Not perfect enough.

                I flash a smile and sit up, gently elbowing her.

                “Why does my being perfect bother you?” I ask, studying her.

                “Because there’s not another guy out there like you,” she replies. “Damn you. You raise a girl’s hopes.”

                My smile grows full and I hesitate before attempting to tell her.

                “Lizzie, can I be honest with you?” I ask.

                She studies me, “Yeah. Since when do you have to ask that?”

                I swallow and open my mouth to say it when my phone buzzes. Sighing, I pull it out and find Luke on the caller-ID. I hold the device in front of me for a second, thinking that it’s a sign to keep quiet, before answering it.

                “Home, now,” Luke says before I can speak.

                He hangs up and I sit there, holding the phone to my ear, for a moment. Slipping it away, I stand and run a hand through my hair.

                “Your brother is no fun,” she says, joining me.

                I follow her back through the tunnel and to her car. In silence, she drives me back to the gate and waves goodbye. I say nothing, getting out and walking up the path. The car speeds away and leaves me alone, my heart sinking.

                Maybe… No. No, I won’t tell her.

                Luke waits on the porch, arms crossed, leaning against the door. Elijah is nowhere in sight, and I assume Luke just put him to bed. Passing my room, he must have noticed I was gone. His eyes are hard when I first meet them, void of any emotion except disappointment, and the sight makes me cringe.

                “Elizabeth called and I—“

                “I don’t care, Hayden,” he interrupts. “You know we’re not supposed to be out past dark.”

                “What does it matter?” I pass him, pushing into the house. “I can’t do anything anyway.”

                He turns and closes the door behind me, following me inside.

                “What does it matter?” he repeats my words. “You don’t understand what they’d do If they caught you, Hayden. They… you’re still one of us, despite everything. They are very strict about code and restrictions, one of those being that we’re not supposed to be out past dark.”

                “Just leave me alone,” I say.

                I take my shoes and jacket off and make a bee-line for the stairs, just wanting to drown in my own self-pity. Halfway there, he cuts me off and grips my shoulders. His eyes soften a bit, noticing the distance in mine, and he forgets about the lecture.

                “W-what’s wrong?” he asks.

                I pull away from him and continue to my room, very well aware of the fact he and Rocky are following. Rocky bolts past me and jumps on my bed, wagging her tail excitedly.

                “Hayden, what happened?” he asks. “Did she… did you tell her?”

                “No,” I simply state.

                Walking to my dresser, I strip of my t-shirt and search for something to wear for pajamas. I sniff a few shirts scattered on the ground before finding a tank top that smells only of detergent and slipping that on.

                “Then… Hayden, why don’t you talk to me?” Luke asks. “You used to tell me everything. Now…it’s like you keep everything to yourself.”

                “Because it’s embarrassing,” I mutter, finding a pair of shorts and changing into those.

                “What’s embarrassing? Talking to your older brother?”

                “No, Luke. Just… leave me alone.”

                I push him out of my room and shut the door, locking it behind him. Groaning, I collapse on my bed and set my hand atop Rocky’s head. I scratch her ears again, staring distantly at the ceiling.

                “I’m not against you, Hayden,” Luke says through the door. “Just remember that.”

                Rocky jumps off the bed and curls up on a pile of dirty clothes, huffing a sigh. Crossing my arms over my chest, I turn on my side and glance out the window.

                But you’re not with me.