He's Just a Kid

First Impressions

The sound of the electric guitar fills my ears.

Rounding the corner, I find the source. There's Chase and Adam, both of them sitting on the weird, circle–table thing in the school lobby. But, there's someone else there.

He's a sophomore, like me, and tall. Pretty brown hair, matching eyes, and a kind face. Why the heck am I already falling for this kid? This is so stupid! I blame puberty.

Chase is shredding on the guitar when I walk up to them. Huh? Since when can he play guitar? I sidle up next to Adam and watch Chase go nuts.

When he ended and stood, handing the guitar back to the new kid, I looked him straight in the face. "Since when can you play guitar, Chase?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Last week you were complaining about how noisy the marching band was and how 'playing an instrument has no purpose whatsoever—'"

"Well, I picked it up a year ago," Chase interrupted, running a hand through his spiky brown hair. He looked . . . nervous. "I was just embarrassed about it because I didn't think I was good at it."

"Chase, you know that's not true," Adam jumped in. "You haven't ever played guitar"—Chase shot him a look—"this good before," Adam finished. "You've always been really good, I mean, like but not this good."

"We get it, Adam," Chase snapped.

We all stood around staring at each other for a moment. It took me a moment to realize Leo, Chase and Adam's stepbrother, was standing off to the side. He was looking at Chase with wide eyes. I chose to ignore him. Before I knew it, the new kid was talking to me and my heart was panicking.

"Hey! I'm Marcus," he said with a smile. He had his hand extended for me to shake it and I accepted, smiling to myself. His hands were cold. Really cold. Almost like they were . . . dead? "What's your name?" he asked me.

I tucked a lock of blond hair behind my ear. "I'm Abby," I said shyly. "I'm also sorta new here. I've only been coming here for a year."

"Oh! So you're a sophomore, too?"

"Yeah, I am."

"Abby," Leo jumped in, "where have you been? We were supposed to be studying for our math test."

I like Leo, he's a sweet kid. But, he can get on my nerves. Sometimes.

If you first met Leo, Adam, and Chase and they told you they were brothers, you would have to do some investigating before believing them. Leo is African–American and Adam and Chase are both Caucasian with brown hair and brown eyes. Chase and Adam kind of even each other out. Chase is super smart and Adam, well, he gets by. Leo is a mix of both of their personalities with his own wit and humor. Overall, no relation to each other whatsoever, yet somehow . . . it works.

"Look, Leo," I sighed, "I'm sorry. I lost track of time."

"Are you heading to lunch?" Marcus asked me, sending my pulse through the roof.

"Uh, yeah," I admitted.

"Want to sit with me, Adam, and Chase?" He looked over at Leo. "Leo, you can hang, too, if you want."

"Sure. I'll go if Abby goes," Leo said.

I grinned. "Alright, I guess we're all hanging out together, then."

Marcus was sitting right. Next. To. Me. To say I was extremely nervous would be an understatement. I would catch him looking at me sometimes, too. I was probably imagining it, to be honest.

"We should form a band," Marcus said to Adam and Chase. "Chase and I on the guitar and Adam . . ." He looked at Adam, who was mindlessly drumming away on the table with two pencils from his backpack.
I looked him up and down. Big, strong, likes breaking things, not very smart. He would definitely like the drums.

"I can't decide if I want to play the saxophone, trombone, bagpipes, or what," Adam said, proceeding to play a very difficult rhythm on the table with his pencils.

Marcus chuckled to himself. "I think you're gonna be our drummer, Adam."

Adam frowned. "I was thinking more French horn, but I can do drums."

I tried my best not to bust out laughing. Adam was all brawn, no brains. That was my favorite part about him. He was a total himbo. No wonder so many girls fell for him in school. Chase was cute and intelligent, but he wasn't that tall. He wasn't short, but he wasn't as big as Adam or Trent, the star football player. I feel like girls here at Mission Creek were more into appearance than personality, which didn't really make sense to me. I know I'm not the only one who likes personality here, though. Bree and I have really extensive talks about what kind of personality we like to see in a guy. I feel like it's a minority of girls here who like brains, though.

There's something about Marcus I can't place. He doesn't seem normal. Not that it's a bad thing to not be normal, but this is . . . a strange kind of different. I can't place it, but everyone else seems oblivious to it. It must just be me then.

I've known the Davenports for a year now, but I still haven't told them about what I really am, even though I already know about their bionic secret. In truth, I don't even know what I am. One day I woke up and found out I can basically turn into a humanoid tiger. I know. Strange. I don't know how it happened or what came over me, but one day when I was twelve I just felt the uncontrollable urge to hunt, kill, run. So I bolted outside and . . . that's how it happened. Before I knew it I had killed a deer. Blood on my hands and mouth, iron on my taste buds. I've learned how to control it since then, but still. It still scares me.

If I told the Davenports about what I am, I don't think they'd understand. For starters, Mr. Davenport would want to run tests on me to find my "bionics" but then he won't find anything and then . . . I would just be a monster.

Marcus started talking about their band practice at Mr. Davenport's house and my heart skipped a beat. I was going to have a study session with Bree at the Davenports' after school. Would I be able to focus with Marcus there?

With a sweet smile, Marcus looks at me and puts an arm around me in a friendly goodbye hug, and that's it. I will not be able to stop thinking about him now.

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