Near Touch

Chapter 8: Demons

Amy stopped the Corolla under the glow of one of the streetlights in front of their house. With an inward sigh, she realized she had been fighting a losing battle. She surrendered her wavering thoughts to the curious case of the troubled stranger she knew. After French, she had battled with herself, trying not to focus on him. But each of her theories and the inexplicable things that happened around him kept swirling inside her head. With each of nightfall's passing hours, the restiveness she now allied with Caleb resurfaced. Although, it was tainted with her selfish need to see him again. Where is he?

"Sleighbells, I need to go meet Robin for a bit. Need to sort out some homework drama. Tell Mom I will be back in an hour," she said and turned to look at her sister. Amy would have to call Robin and ask him to cover for her. Her mother fancied watching far too many parenting guides and crime shows and that was not a good combination.

"I doubt she will like that. But okay," Leigh said slowly. "You've made a new friend, haven't you?"

Amy was a little taken aback. She blinked and shook her head, an involuntary smile curving on her lips. "What makes you think that?"

"I heard you talking in your room. Don't worry, I won't tell Mom." She kissed Amy on her cheek and then she was gone. Leigh waited till Amy had driven out of sight and then rang the doorbell. They were a good team.

The winding streets soon morphed into linear, broader roads and the lights from the streetlamps bled into one another. Without knowing which turn to take until the last possible moment, Amy continued her search. Every stop sign was an opportunity to investigate and every black-jacketed person a suspect. She was cautious enough to evade trouble on the roads. Any overbearing deputy she would run into tonight would immediately call Christopher Irvine and personally escort her home. The news had predicted a storm.

Thus far, it was not shaping up to be the most favorable of nights. The wind was raging through every hanging sign in town. It seemed likely that the rundown nineteenth-century buildings would be left without a roof if the wind continued to whip and strangle through every corner it could find.

The lingering smell of ozone was making her feel lightheaded.

She racked her brains for some insight into Caleb Dawson. He was the star quarterback of Sirencester High's revered football team, known to be aggressive on the field and assertive outside of it. The only people whose existence he acknowledged were the loyal gorillas on his team. Jason Darko was their knuckleheaded wide receiver and Bobby Higgins was a dark, shapeless boulder who was the offensive guard. High school football wasn't always as pretty as they proclaimed it to be in the movies.

Ashton was now a part of the Sirencester Panthers. She was unsure of her feelings on the matter. Amy halted to let an interstate bus pass, deciding that she would concentrate her efforts on one mislaid boy at a time.

Caleb's fierce looks and defined physique vacuumed lustful eyes off the floor as he walked. She knew that he had a reputation, the archetypal moody 'bad boy' who girls just loved to get a taste of. They usually got even less than that. Or more, depending on the perverseness of the observer.

Even the thought that people found that appealing made Amy shake her head with thinly veiled disgust. Adding to his charm was the 'supposed' fact that Caleb was a drug dealer, and consequently, he led the kind of double life that would turn a normal person's brain inside out. However, these allegations never hit home and she was sure that none of the adults suspected a thing. He was crafty when it came to covering his tracks.

As far as outward appearances went, Caleb looked nothing like a waste of space, small town acid freak. But then again, he wouldn't be the chief supplier if he did.