sunday, october 12th

It started out with your three typical teenagers hanging out in a house, being, well, teenagers. Nobody knew about the events yet to come; at least I didn't.

It was October, inevitably bleak and gray. A halfhearted wind ran its fingers through the trees, the last of the brownish leaves clinging to the branches. I was currently lounging inside accompanied by Faye and Devan. I was pretty much your perfectly average fifteen-year-old girl. You know how it is. Fuzzy socks and baggy sweatshirts, curly brown hair that you don't really have the energy to brush. I was nothing extraordinary, really.

At that moment, I was sitting upright on the old leather sofa, a twenty-year-old lumpy, saggy creature with a few rips and tears here and there. It was a challenge to sit upright on, as it was pretty well-used, the cushions soft and deflated from many butts plopping down on it over the years. It was the kind of couch that could swallow you whole if you weren't careful.

Right now, I was pissing off Faye and Devan by eagerly explaining the plot of an Ellen Hopkins novel (Using wild hand gesticulations and dramatic facial expressions, of course). This had gone on for an hour or so, and Faye and Devan were slumped across the sofa, staring off into space. Friends were fun, weren't they?

I was appalled when a seemingly passive Faye abruptly sprang to life and yelped in protest. "Oh my GOSH, London! You're killing us, girl! We get it! You like to read!" The outburst had obviously taken a lot of energy out of her, as she flopped back down like a dead fish, sinking into the sofa and put her head in her hands.

Devan shook his head in mock helplessness, sighing at me and moaning, "You killed her, London! You killed her!" I giggled and hurled a pillow at him, which he received with a look of feigned horror. My action escalated quickly into a small pillow fight. We grabbed pillows from wherever we could find them and started whacking each other with them, all the while being careful not to knock over anything expensive. Oh god, we were so immature. Meanwhile, Faye was splayed out on the side and groaning, half-submerged inside the couch.

"Listen, London," Devan started as we settled down and picked up all the pillows scattered on the floor. "I know you like books...but not everyone wants to hear about them." Gently, he slid my six-hundred-and-something-paged brick out of my hands and set it down delicately on the couch, as if it was a newborn kitten. I frowned.

"But it's a great novel! I just get excited sometimes when talking about books, and I guess I —" I snatched it into my hands again, cradling it against my chest, my grip a steel vise "—get carried away." He reached for it again, but I narrowed my eyes fiercely, daring him to even come close.

Faye just shook her head with anguish, as if she'd never, ever understand me. She surfaced from the couch, pranced into the kitchen and then popped out a few seconds later, holding up a family-sized bag of Lay's potato chips.

"Okay, enough blabbing about books and pillow-fighting like eleven-year-olds. Do I have to remind you what today is?" She held up the bag with one hand, the other placed on her jutted-out hip, looking at us expectantly.

Devan and I exchanged a blank stare. "Uh...it's not your birthday, is it?" Devan offered.

"Try again." Faye looked at me, tapping the bag with a manicured nail, waiting for an answer.

"Is it some sort of vegan holiday we don't know about?" I said, wincing at the stupidity of my own suggestion.

A head-shake from Faye was the answer. "You guys," she complained. "It's the annual day I cheat on my diet! I can't believe you two forgot. Now come on. It's not fun getting fat on my own."

Faye didn't wait for us to answer, just started grabbing bowls and plates from the cabinets, and began raiding the kitchen of all the unhealthy snacks. I knew I would receive a stern talking-to from my parents if they found out, but why not let her celebrate? We followed her as she bounced around, jovially chanting, "FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!"

Five minutes later, we'd already polished off the entire bag of Lay's and were deep into a bag of cheese puffs and three boxes of pizza. Faye was squealing with delight about how she felt like she'd already gained five pounds and maybe even started to reach a healthy body weight. I always had to listen to her ranting about how her mother demanded she go on this crazy vegan diet that seemed to only consist of vile substances like kale, tofu, and wheat germ. Her mother said it was to keep her thin as a toothpick and so her skin would never break out.

Then, five minutes after that, her head was on the table and she wept about how tomorrow she'd have to go home to another endless three hundred sixty-four days of a variety of foods that tasted like sandpaper.

I still cradled my book under the crook of one arm as I ate. It was one of my many favorites. I flipped through the pages, dozens of multicolored post-it notes marking my favorite parts. I ran my fingers along the smooth spine of the book's exterior.

Devan, who was sitting next to me, snorted with amusement. "Okay, bookworm, give it up," he said, holding out his hand. When I refused, he continued, "Come on, talk to us. Show us you like people better than books." He smirked.

I gave an impish grin. "But... I don't."

He reached for the book again, and this time I tried to dodge him, but I was too slow. He grabbed my arm, then pulled me close into a kiss, tender and warm. While I was distracted he was able to slide the book out of my grasp.

Faye was still too preoccupied with her snacks to notice. She'd piled a massive amount of Doritos on her plate and was shoveling her way through them, making loud, obnoxious crunching sounds. Her lips and fingers were stained bright orange.

"Not fair," I muttered as Devan placed the book on the other side of him, too far away for me to reach. "You can't use the boyfriend thing as a distraction."

He smiled triumphantly, waving the book around in his hand. "Says who?"

I knew there was no use in getting that book back, so I just sighed and told Faye to pass the Doritos. She complied and I took a fistful, slowly munching on the chips. It was quiet. I could already feel yesterday's drowsiness catching up with me; I noticed my eyelids feeling heavy and rubbed them with my hands. Faye must've noticed because she stopped mid-chew.

"You okay, London? You look like you're about to pass out." She wasn't really wrong. I yawned.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm getting enough sleep," I commented, shrugging.

"Something bothering you?" Devan pressed on.

I gave another nonchalant shrug. "I've been having these weird recurring dreams lately, but they're pretty stupid."

Faye's eyes lit up with interest. "Tell us," she demanded.

"All of them are kind of similar. Each time I'm a different person, sometimes a boy, sometimes a girl, sometimes I have red hair, sometimes blond, or brown, or even blue, this one time. It's mostly a guy though, and I keep repeating this number: thirty-seven. I'm always talking to this other person. Mostly girls, sometimes a guy. We're talking, only I can't make out what any of us is saying. It's all fuzzy, it's like we're underwater. But the person I'm talking to is mad, I can tell. Then I'm someplace else full of test tubes and wires, and that person is strapped to a table and yelling at me. Again, I don't know what they're saying. Then this man comes up to me, and I can hear him clearly. He says 'good job'. Then I wake up."

Faye and Devan both looked uncomfortable; shifting in their seats and looking down.

Finally, Faye croaked, "Um... I don't know. That's... that's weird." She looked down. Her four earrings glinted in the sunlight filtering through the window. Devan scratched his ear, his fingers sometimes brushing against his hearing aid. When they did, he stiffened a bit. There was silence for a long, long period of time. Embarrassed, I popped open another bag of chips and mumbled, "Forget it," before scarfing down an enormous amount.

Faye stayed seated across from me at the table, head down, not bothering to continue eating, while Devan got up to see what food was left. "Hey, London, you're out of... mostly everything," he commented.

I managed to let out a light chuckle, getting up from my seat. "Should we go to Target?" I offered, Faye and Devan nodding.

I locked the door behind me as the three of us bounded outside.

I didn't have a car yet, but Target was barely a mile away, so we would be fine. We hopped down off the front porch steps onto the quiet main road, only a few cars traversing the asphalt.

It was mostly quiet as we walked. Faye asked if she could pick up some mascara while we were there. I agreed, saying I needed to pick up some toilet paper too.

The streets were dead silent. This wasn't uncommon; after all, it was a suburban town at ten a.m.; there was usually not a lot of traffic on the roads. However, I heard the faint squeal of tires against the asphalt. A screeching, jarring sound. I rolled my eyes, figuring it was some agitated driver. Someone who didn't know any better.

As we crossed the street, I turned to Devan to ask him if he needed anything else from the store as the whirring sound became louder.

But I never got the chance.

As soon as I opened my mouth, red blotted my vision as a brute force knocked against me and flung me down to the hard pavement. I tried to gasp, but a tight set of jaws crushed itself against my chest, my heartbeat pulverizing my ribcage. Instead of a cry, a trembling croak escaped my lips, the metallic tang of blood filling my mouth. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I was dimly aware of it. I tried to reach out to something, anything, but I seemed all alone, underwater. The screaming, sirens and the sparks shooting behind my eyes all faded as the world went spiraling away.

✽  ✽  ✽

What happened? Is London okay? What about Faye and Devan?

What do you guys think of London so far? What about Devan and Faye?

Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. :)) Sorry to leave you on a cliffhanger lol

XOXO ~brooklynrose~