Heather looked over my shoulder, which made me want to turn to see what was behind me. It drove me crazy.
Addison and Brianna gasped, and trotted over to the end of the counter. They were identical twins with disturbingly bright blue eyes and complexions so pale they made Casper look tan. Their unruly red hair was pushed back away from their faces with thick black plastic headbands, and tied off into ponytails that were pulled over their thin shoulders.
Once again, they all were wearing similar outfits. Did they call each other to coordinate? I couldn’t help but wonder. Each of them wore snug cotton button-ups and short plaid skirts. They all looked like they were wearing uniforms, except Briarcliff Academy didn’t have uniforms. The only differences in the outfits were the colors and what designer purse they had jacked up on their shoulders.
“Oh, this one looks good.” Brianna pointed to a chocolate éclair in the glass dessert case filled with French Pastries.
“No, let’s get this one,” Addison leaned forward and pointed to a chocolate croissant.
“Those are really good,” I told them, trying to be helpful.
They both wrinkled their noses in displeasure and acted like I hadn’t even spoken.
“What did you make recently?” Heather piped in, and then added on a nastier note, “I certainly don’t want that burnt shit you served me last time.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It killed me to be nice to Heather. “I just made some mocha java…sound good?”
Heather scrunched up her face in distaste. “No, that doesn’t sound good.”
“Okay.” I bit back a sigh.
“Do you have any hazelnut made?”
I turned around and looked. The pot was empty. “No, sorry,” I said and turned back around.
“Good, I’ll take some Hazelnut then.” Heather smirked.
“Oh, we want some, too. We want some, too,” the twins excitedly said in unison.
“Okie-dokie, coming right up,” I said as cheerfully as I could and wiped my hands on my apron. Walking over to the back wall, I grabbed the ladder which made a screeching noise as I dragged it across to the opposite end. Grabbing hold of the wrung, I climbed up the ladder and grabbed the last bag of Hazelnut off the top shelf, making a mental note to order some more.
“Oh, you know what,” Heather called. “Is there any iced tea made?”
I looked down at the machine—dry as a bone. Shoot. “Nah, sorry, I haven’t had a chance to make any more, yet.”
“I’ll take that instead,” Heather snipped.
“Oh, us too, us too,” Addison and Brianna Kincaid both added.
Good lord, I felt like I was in a cave with all the echoing going on. Just because they were twins didn’t mean they had to say everything twice, in plural. “Got it,” I told them and headed back down the ladder. Placing the bag on the counter, I walked over to the opposite end and pulled out the tea from under the cabinet. Once I added the bags and hit the brew button, I turned back around. Big surprise, Heather was glaring right at me. I chewed on the inside of my cheek to stop from saying anything.
“You know what?” Heather tapped the counter. “I think I’ll have that hazelnut after all.” She rubbed her thin arms for effect. “I’m feeling a bit chilled all of a sudden.”
“How did I know that was coming?” I muttered.
“What did you say?”
“I said,” I told her slowly. “Sure. Not. A. Problem.” I forced the words out, trying to be nice. Mom always told me if I didn’t have anything nice to say I shouldn’t say anything at all. It would have been nice if Heather’s mom had said the same.
“Oh, us too, us too,” Brianna and Addison echoed.
My shoulders tensed.
The door opened and the bell trilled again.
Hanna rushed in, a blur of bright blue hair and dark purple-glossed lips. She had her hair pulled up in a top-knot. Her t-shirt was knotted in the back, hugging her boobs, making the word Mulder all stretched out.
I relaxed a bit. At least she wasn’t wearing her antennas.
“Sorry I’m late, Evie,” Hanna said, rushing past. “Aaron and I got a little carried away in the car and we lost track of time.” She smiled wickedly and her Crawford stud twinkled above her lip.
“Is Scully, I mean Aaron coming?” I asked.
She shoved her purse under the counter. “Not now, but he was.”
“Gross, Hanna!”
“I know, right,” Hanna laughed. “You fall for that all the time.” She tied on her apron. “You’re so funny, Evie.” She shook her head. “And yes, he is coming in, after he parks the car.”
Aaron/Scully didn’t actually work at the coffee house, but he liked to be near Hanna, so he stayed while she worked and helped if it got too busy for her to handle. He was a great guy, really, and totally into Hanna.
“Ahem! Excuse me,” Heather called out obnoxiously.
Shoot! I had completely forgotten about Heather. I turned around, dreading the butt kissing I was going to have to do so Heather didn’t make a scene.
“Oh my gawd, Heather,” Hanna gasped and stepped up to the counter. “You look so good!”
I let out a huge sigh…saved once again—I owed Hanna big time.
2-STAGES
“Moriah,” her mother yelled.
Moriah tensed and set down her flattening iron. She walked to the door and poked her head out. “What?”
“I’m leaving,” her mom yelled up the stairs. “Do the dishes before you go anywhere and switch the laundry.”
“But Mom, I’m going to be….” Then she remembered her mom wasn’t supposed to know what she was doing.
“Fine,” she gritted and walked back into her room. Irritated, she yanked the cord from the wall and grabbed the bottle of Kiehls styling crème off her vanity.
“Moriah, do the dishes, do the laundry,” she mimicked her mother. “Moriah, take care of your looks or no one will want you.” She made a face. “Moriah, why can’t you get better grades? Are you stupid?” She put a glob of styling cream in her hair and spread it down the length. “Moriah, hold your stomach in, you look pregnant.” Moriah chewed her lip and pushed her stomach. “Whatever,” she sighed.
She should be used to her mother by now, but she wasn’t. Her mother was a wannabe. She wanted to be everything she wasn’t, which was rich. Her mother was really pretty too, but she was always waiting for someone else to save her from the proverbial blue-collar world they lived in. Her father had been some kind of musician/lead singer in a famous band, which was her mother’s one claim to fame. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out and Moriah had never even known him. Every time she saw a singer in a famous band with blonde hair, she always wondered if maybe he was her father. Her mother would never tell. She wondered if her mom even dated him, really, or was she just some random groupie who slept with him one night and got knocked up as a result.
Either way, her Mom never told her who he was, if she even knew herself. Her mother styled hair and did makeup for a living. She worked at the only salon in town; it was trendy and upscale. She always went to IMATS shows, making sure she was caught up on the latest styles and trends. This was “honing her craft,” she would tell Moriah, and then she would take off for long spans of time to go to more shows. From the looks of the people who worked at the salon, it looked like it would be more of a party. They all seemed pretty cool.
Her phone buzzed. Kicking a pile of clothes out of her way, she grabbed up her phone.
Kingston: BE THERE IN 20
Dammit! She jerked off her old cutoff sweats and t-shirt and tossed them with the rest of her clothes on the floor. She grabbed a vintage tee, pulled it over her head, and then pulled on a pair of cut-off jean shorts. Bending down, she dug under her clothes for her shoes but couldn’t find the pair she wanted, so she pulled on her tall Uggs. Hopping across the room, she grabbed her weekender bag, dumped her entire bowl of makeup off her vanity into the matching case.
/> A vintage head vase held her makeup brushes and she grabbed those, too, and dumped them inside her overstuffed bag. These were another one of her mom’s must-haves: “Moriah, a good makeup brush can and will, make all the difference in the world when applying makeup.”
Actually, she bought most of her own and Moriah’s at the art store. She said they were made better and more affordable. She bought the metal sharpeners for her pencils there, too, and Moriah had to agree, nothing sharpened eyeliner pencils better than a metal one. And it only cost like a dollar, whereas the kind in the normal stores cost like ten. “Tricks of the trade,” her mom would say.
Get Burned by Sleeper Agent blared out of her phone again. She picked it up.
Kingston: WHERE ARE YOU?
“Shit!” Grabbing up her duffel and purse, she took off down the stairs. The kitchen still smelled like burnt toast. She tossed the dishes in the dishwasher, ran to the laundry room, and switched the laundry. Five minutes later she was back in the kitchen. She pulled off a neon post-it and wrote a quick note to her mom.
At Evie’s for the weekend
Call me if you need me!
Sloppy kisses - M
Crossing over to the fridge, she lifted a flower magnet, stuck the post-it to the front, and then headed out to meet Kingston.
3-SURPRISE
I painted my last fingernail with O.P.I. “umpires come out at night” polish. Gravity Falls’ theme song blasted out from my phone. I flipped it over.
Moriah: GOING TO BE EPIC
Right—I blew on my nails. I still had no idea what was even going on, really. Moriah was being cloak-and-dagger about it all. Granted, I loved surprises as much as the next person did, probably even a little more, but this was getting insane. At this rate, the party would be beyond epic—it would be outta control. I glanced over at the bed. On top was the gift Moriah had given me last night.
¥
“Seriously,” Moriah said. “Don’t you think it’s weird that chick doesn’t think anything is strange about that huge sheet of plastic spread over the floor?” She grabbed a handful of popcorn and stuffed it into her mouth, her gaze directed at the television. We were watching American Psycho.
“Maybe she is hard-up or something?” I reasoned. “Or, maybe, she is merely mesmerized by Christians Bales’ perfect face?” I watched the screen as he circled around the girl in his apartment.
“Eww, no way…” Moriah said. “I don’t care how hot a guy is. If he invites me over and there is plastic on the floor, I am taking my ass right back out of the door.”
“What if it was Kingston?” I reached into the bowl and grabbed out a junior mint.
“Well…hmmm,” Moriah said and smiled wistfully.
“That’s what I thought.” I laughed and popped the candy into my mouth.
Moriah crossed her legs and wiped her hands off on her yoga pants. “I almost forgot,” she said excitedly, and reached down into her bag. “I got you an early birthday present.”
“No way!” I sat forward excitedly. “You didn’t have to do that.”
“Now, don’t freak out,” Moriah warned, holding something behind her back.
“Oh—kay,” I said slowly, my excitement diminishing quickly.
“Ta-dah!” Moriah pulled a box out from behind her back.
I looked down at the box and blinked stupidly. “Ah…thanks.” I took the box and read the container. “‘TROJAN Stimulations ECSTASY’ a revolutionary design that lets you feel the pleasure, not the condom.”
“They’re in assorted colors too,” Moriah added, excitedly.
“Wow,” I said. I was too stunned to say anything more.
Moriah smiled gleefully, apparently quite pleased with herself. She bounced up and down on the bed. “Aren’t they great?”
“Ah…”
Moriah’s phone rang, saving me from having to lie. “Hold on.” Moriah reached over and lifted her phone from the top of her bag. She punched the button and held the phone up to her ear.
“Speak,” she said and climbed off the bed.
“Oh, hi Mom,” she sighed. “What? But we’re watching a movie,” she complained and ran her hand down her long ponytail. “Come on, can’t I…” She paced back and forth. “Okay,” she exhaled. “I’ll be home soon.” Pressing end on her phone, she tossed it in her bag. “I gotta go.”
“Why?” I set the box down. “Is something wrong?”
“You know my mom.” She rolled her eyes. “She probably had too much wine and wants to talk to me about some guy she likes.”
“Sorry.”
“Yeah, well, you know how she gets.”
“Yeah, I know.” And I did. Her mom pulled that crap at least once a week.
Moriah gathered her things and hoisted her bag on her shoulder. “We’ll have to finish that one next time,” she said and pointed to the television. “Or, you can watch the rest yourself…if you really want.”
“Ah, no,” I laughed. The only reason I was watching the movie in the first place was because it was Moriah’s pick this week.
“Why? You scared?” Moriah laughed maniacally.
“Stop it, Moriah,” I warned.
Moriah bumped shoulders with me. “Just kidding.”
“Yeah,” I said, frowning. “You’re so not funny.”
“You love me.”
“Yeah, I do,” I admitted and opened the door. “Be careful,” I told her.
“Yeah, I’ll try not to get lost.” Moriah stepped out on the landing. “Oh, and don’t forget to bring those tomorrow.” She nodded her head in the direction of the bed.
“Oh, I won’t,” I assured her and stepped outside.
Moriah gave me a quick hug and trotted down the stairs into the back lot behind the café. “Don’t forget,” she called and opened her car door.
“I won’t.” I rubbed my arms.
Moriah climbed in her car and honked the horn.
I waved as she pulled away. Taking a deep breath, I inhaled the cool evening air as I looked up at Briarcliff Manor, the imposing silhouette illuminated in the glow of the full moon. I shivered.
“Creepiest place ever.” The story Chance told everyone still freaked me out. Granted he was probably exaggerating, but the place was still pretty creepy even without the story.
Turning around, I reached for the door to go back inside.
A blood-curdling scream rang out in the distance.
I jumped and turned around, my heart hammering erratically. Briarcliff Manor was suddenly lit up like a football stadium at night.
Another scream split the air.
“Ohmigod!” I flung the door open, ran inside my apartment, and slammed it shut.
Not able to help myself, I cracked the door open and looked again. But now Briarcliff was cloaked in darkness. Even the moon had disappeared.
A shiver of dread raced up my spine. I slammed the door shut and bolted it. Just to be on the safe side, I grabbed a kitchen chair and pushed it under the handle.
¥
My mind came back to the present. Now, even in the light of day, I still wasn’t too sure what I had heard or seen, last night. Maybe I imagined it all—a result from watching too many cult classic horror movies. I didn’t know and really, when it came down to it, I didn’t think I wanted to know either.
4-INFATUATED
The co-ed dorm room smelled like a combination of expensive cologne, dirty gym socks, and sex. It wasn’t very large either, but it served its purpose. Kingston shared the room with Chance but they had an understanding with one another. It went pretty much like this: Stay the hell outta the room if the bull’s ball sack filled with change was hanging on the handle.
“What’s your hurry?” Kingston asked as he lifted a pillow and dropped it behind his back.
“I got to meet Evie, remember?” Moriah glanced over her shoulder towards the bed.
A smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he watched her walk across the room. H
e loved her ass. It reminded him of an upside down heart. She wasn’t the least bit shy about her body.
Heather was.
He didn’t think he had ever seen her completely naked, at least not with the light on and they had dated forever. That was not the case with Moriah. In the middle of the room, she stood in plain view as she pulled on her lacy blue panties. Her lightly tanned skin glowed in the afternoon sun that filtered in through the windows above his desk. “Why can’t she meet you later?” He stretched lazily and reached across the nightstand. Grabbing up a bottle of water, he unscrewed the cap.
“What?” She pulled on her bra and glanced back at him.
“Huh?” He lifted his eyes from her chest back to her face.
“What did you say?”
“Um…I don’t remember.” He smiled.
Moriah visibly shivered. His smiles had that effect on her. “I thought you said you wouldn’t watch me get dressed.”
He wiggled his brows in response.
“Why you…” She threw her brush at him.
Kingston caught the brush in one hand. “Come on, babe. What’d you expect?”
Moriah pouted and crossed her arms.
“I promise, I won’t do it again,” he said, lying his ass off. Yeah right. If she was going to parade around in front of him naked, he sure as hell wasn’t going to avert his eyes. She was hot. Heather was hot, too, but this was different…Moriah was different. Maybe it was the newness. Maybe that is why Heather didn’t do it for him anymore. Kingston wasn’t real sure what to make of it. He guessed he was falling for her—hell he probably already had fallen for her. Only she had no idea he felt that way, which is exactly how he liked it.
If she knew how he felt, he was sure he would become one of her NOTS, sooner rather than later. No, he played it cool. Always acting just bored enough to keep her coming back for more. It was working perfectly.
Moriah walked over to the bed. “Hairbrush,” she said, and held out her hand.
Kingston grabbed hold of her hand and pulled her back onto the bed. “Sorry babe,” he murmured. “I can’t seem to help myself.”