Zemblanity (or that funny feeling you give)

Alright, Void. One more update after this one before I hit the no post zone. Let’s make the most of it, shall we?

Allyson is a little creepy. Let’s see what’s up with her now. A little time has passed for both us and for her, so who knows, maybe she’s chilled out?

***

Chapter Three

            Allyson was almost certain she would never need to know the difference between one triangle and the next. Triangles were triangles. Three-sided and incredibly boring.

            “My life is a triangle.”

            Only two people took notice of her mumbling; they turned around to shoot her a glare. She looked back down at her notebook, scribbling equations she didn’t understand.

            Four years. Four years since she started this façade, and not a single incident. And it wasn’t from lack of trying.

            Yes, no one ever guessed the truth about her living situation, and that was well and all, but she was bored with it. She wanted more. 

            She attempted summoning up the creature from that night more times than she cared to admit, but nothing ever came of it. It took two years of staying up late and recreating the situation best she could by herself for her to finally give up and accept it for what it was: a fluke. Devil traps were drawings and Ouija boards were toys.

            She might have thought it all a dream if not for the faded scars under her eyes and the speckled holes in the hall of her home. And, of course, the body. Thankfully, it was easy to keep the deadbeat under wraps.

            Allyson never knew her mother. She imagined her occasionally, making up stories to go with whatever face she chose to give her. She didn’t have the luxury of family photos to use for reference. Most often, she imagined her dead. Sometimes in a car crash. Other times during childbirth. She didn’t want to imagine her alive. If she was alive, that meant that she left her daughter with a drunk. Abandoned. And she didn’t want to believe that. Otherwise, she’d be worse than him. No, her mother loved her dearly, but the grim reaper had different plans.

            “Hey, Allyson.”

            She was so deep in thought, so didn’t notice anyone leaning against the front of her desk. Her heart leapt into her throat, thin shoulders rising in surprise that she tried to cover up with a stretch. She furrowed her brow, feigning annoyance.

            Everyone in the classroom, teacher included, was gone. Not the first time she’d zoned out during a lecture, and definitely wouldn’t be the last.

            “Um…yeah?”

            Icy blue eyes traveled up the ripped jeans, up the grey hoodie hiding the lean muscle beneath. She could feel her heart pounding in her throat, her wrists, her eyes, and her lips trembled if she didn’t force a smile. Whenever Zaque talked to her, she’d stare at his eyes. One moment they’d look green, and if she blinked, she’d swore they were brown. Like magic.

            “What are you doing later?”

            Sometimes she would envision the spelling of his name. She’d see it in neon lights hovering over his head. Utterly ridiculous. His parents, hip and trendy as they were, couldn’t settle on a spelling that made sense. Zaquerie Aimes. She didn’t know his middle name, but it was likely just as obnoxious.

            “Probably nothing? Why? What do you want?”

            She kept her half smile and annoyed expression. Sending mixed signals was somewhat of a specialty of hers. Keep them guessing, keep you safe. Besides, no one, not him, not anyone, ever asked her something like…like…

            “Hey, hey, no reason to get upset or anything. I just wanted to see if you wanted to go to a movie or something. And, uh, if you don’t, that’s totally cool. Just offering and whatnots.”

            He held up his hands as if he could push his request on her. She’d watched him do it hundreds of times throughout the year. It didn’t matter if the other person was male or female. It didn’t change the outcome. Zaque was a superhero, and persuasion was his super power.

            She looked him over for what seemed to her like an eternity, searching for ulterior motives of the butt of the joke. If there was something there, he hid it well.

            “No.”

            Short and simple, more to see his reaction than anything, ready to brace herself against the bucket of pig blood that surely rested on an imaginary beam over her head. But nothing. Not even a smirk to prove how gullible she was. His eyebrows raised, mouth down turned even as he nodded in acceptance.

            “Not tonight, at least. My father wants me to run errands for him. Um, I mean, I’m free this weekend, though.”

            The heat traveled up her neck, into her cheeks, and her mind felt fuzzy. Allyson always had a half smile plastered to her face, but it felt like ages since the right side turned up in agreement. A little less forced than before. A little more natural.

            “Cool. Theater tomorrow at four then.”

            It didn’t sound like a question to her ears. He walked out of the room without waiting for a response. As if he already knew the answer. As if she didn’t have a choice in the matter. How dare he. How dare he how dare he how dare…

***

…Well, fuck.

Come back on December 6^th for a final free chapter. I’ll let you know when the anthology is available for your enjoyment! 😉