Sideshow

Chapter 5

Before I can take note of any of his other features, I'm on my feet and sprinting to the drive-in gate. As I run I stumble over party-goers and hear a chorus of "Ow! watch it" and "hey!" The memory from the grave yard still feels like a hazy nightmare and I'm not waiting around to have another interaction like it. As soon as I leave the party, I breath a sigh of relief.

Nuna used to tell me I had the family gift: a natural born witch. She'd teach me about divination, spell work, manifestation and protections, but her foremost lesson had stuck with me long after she'd died of old age. I hear her voice echo through my skull. "Intuition is a witch's best friend. Always follow your gut feeling, you'll cause more problems by ignoring it," she'd said to me one evening while boiling bow-tie pasta on the stove.

When I'd looked into those green eyes at the drive-in, my intuition-or maybe it was Nuna herself- told me to run. So that's what I did.

It's a tepid night, the end of spring but not quite summer and all around me cicadas and crickets sing their chorus as if performing for some unknown audience.

As I turn onto the backroad, a straight shot to my neighborhood, I notice headlights coming up fast behind me. This strikes me as odd for one main reason- cars rarely drive on this road anymore. I pick up my walking pace, my heart sputtering. I don't understand why I'm suddenly so anxious, but I just continue walking in the direction of home and try not to make eye contact with the driver. They're probably just coming home late from work and decided to take the back road home as a shortcut. I tell myself this and then I soon after remember that most people don't work on Saturdays.

As they drive by, I try to make myself appear uninteresting so they don't notice me. To my shock and horror, the driver slows down to my walking pace right next to me. I increase my pace to a jog and they speed up to match it. I stop walking and they stop their car. I'm about to turn around and sprint into the woods when I notice the passenger side window rolling down. A hive of wasps catch in my throat when I recognize who it is. If I had eaten at the drive-in, the contents of my stomach would have been all over the spring grass.

For a second I'm frozen like a wild rabbit. If I don't move, he won't see me. This is yet another lie I've told to myself to appease my anxiety.

He clears his throat and this is when I finally get a good look at graveyard guy. Dark auburn hair, closer to the color of mahogany than the color of fire, curls around his forehead and ears. Ears delicately pointed at the end reminding me of one of the fairies on my favorite Tinkerbell cartoons as a kid. A sharp jawline leads into a slightly upturned chin. Then I see his eyes again. Green the color of emeralds and the pine trees surrounding us, they almost blend in to their surroundings. On closer inspection I find that one of his eyes is slightly darker than the other one.

There 's no doubt he is striking. He gives off an Elfin sort of charm, with a hint of something arresting and destructive under the surface. I'm scared and yet oddly captivated. Grace always said my curiosity would be my downfall, I never thought she'd be right.

"Please, allow me to give you a ride, you'll catch a chill out here," He says tactfully as if it's 30 degrees instead of 76. He glances down at my bare arms and concern flashes over his lips. This sends a wave of irritation over me and a sarcastic laugh escapes me.

"Thanks, but it's not even cold. I'm fine walking myself," I say curtly and continue my brisk walk to my neighborhood.

"There could be creeps out here, Dani, don't be naive." He says this casually as if he isn't one of those said "creeps."

"I think I'll take my chances with them," I respond. I would choose a serial killer himself over some odd ball I saw lurking around in the graveyard at almost Midnight.

Bile rises in my throat when a sick thought occurs to me "How do you even know my name? You a stalker now too?" I exclaim, looking around for the heftiest stick I can find at my feet.

He lifts his eyebrows and writhes in his seat, clearly not used to being called out or interrogated. He quickly recovers, his expression shifting back to unruffled and half bored. "I heard your name at the drive-in party and I don't know what you're talking about a graveyard. I'm new to this town so I wouldn't even know where one is," he laughs and waves his hand dismissively as if I'd imagined everything.

Fury bubbles in my throat. Who is this weirdo coming to my town, stalking around in graveyards and then lying to make me look like the deranged one?

"I know I saw you in the graveyard and I have proof. I'm going to find out what you were doing there and when I do it won't be good for you," I lash out. I can't let him follow me home and find out where I live. So I scurry for the woods and force my way through the trees.