He's Just a Kid (Marcus Davenport X OC Book 1)

At the Crack of Dawn

Staying up till midnight was not a good idea.

Especially since I woke up at the butt crack of dawn to Mom screaming her head off. About what? I had no clue. But it was something about "the blankety-blank dishwasher not working" or something. I know the dishwasher is broken, but why on earth do you feel the need to scream bloody murder about it?

Good news: It was Saturday. Bad news? Mom.

Extra good news? It wasn't like she could actually prevent me from going to see Marcus today. Like, what could she do? I can just shift and scare the crap out of her again and just . . . leave. It's magic, I know. Amazing.

Only one problem, though.

I have no idea how to get in contact with Marcus.

I groaned and flopped back down on my bed. I was way too tired to get up, much less do anything at the moment. Rubbing my eyes, I stared at the ceiling for a second before checking the alarm clock. Six thirty in the morning. Wow. Just wow. Being awake this early on a Saturday morning should be a crime against humanity.

It probably was somewhere.

I grunted as I forced myself out of bed, ready to go complain to Mom about waking me up so early. What good would that do, you ask? Does it matter? I'm tired, I need sleep, so there.

I was opening the door to a literal crime scene for all I knew, but without further contemplation I left my room. I saw Mom angrily making eggs at the stove. I didn't even think you could make eggs angrily. How was that even possible?

She gave me a stone cold glare when she saw me. "What are you doing up?"

"Hm. I don't know. Why don't you ask that banshee you killed in here?" I snapped.

"You watch your mouth!"

"How bout I watch yours? It's big enough, anyway."

I ducked out of the way as the spatula she threw at me clattered against the wall behind me. I couldn't help it. I was pleased with myself. Who wouldn't be?

It was a miracle I didn't get yelled at when I put together my cereal and sat down at the dining room table. Mom was apparently too focused on her own breakfast to bother with me. Or, she had given up. For the moment, anyway.

It wouldn't be too long till she was up in my face again.

I heard a door creak open slightly and I jerked my head in the direction of the sound. Landon was cautiously peeking out of his room with wide eyes, his pajamas ruffled from a sleepless night. His gaze told the story that his mouth wouldn't.

More nightmares, I concluded. He gets them all the time. Poor guy.

"Did something break?" he whispered.

"No," Mom spat before I got to say anything.

I shot her a glare and then stretched out my arm in an offer for him to sit in my lap. He rushed over, not bothering to close the door behind him, and plopped down. He always surprised me with how light he was for his age. It wasn't that he didn't eat, it was just that his metabolism was so fast that his body could literally consume any amount of food he put in it.

"Want to tell me about it?" I asked him, not bothering to elaborate in front of Mom. He already knew what I was talking about anyway.

He twisted to look at me before shaking his head vehemently.

"Alright," I said. "Whenever you're ready. I'm not going to push."

After I finished breakfast, I stood, returning to my room to change. The sight of Landon in his doorway haunted my vision as I pulled clothes out of my dresser. He was way too young to be having nightmares bad enough to keep him from sleeping every night. Like, yes, kids have nightmares, but eventually they go to sleep afterward most nights with the occasional night where they can't go back to sleep.

Landon was straight-up sleep deprived.

I wondered what could be causing them. I wasn't one to believe old wives tales, but the thought of eating cheese before bed did cross my mind. Maybe not necessarily cheese, but maybe something he was eating was causing the dreams.

Or maybe it was Mom.

I hated considering that option, but it definitely was an option. That woman could get murderous sometimes. I mean, she had just tried to decapitate me with a freaking spatula for talking back to her. Yes, it was wrong for me to talk back to her, and I shouldn't have done it, but to want to actually throw something sharp at your daughter's head because of it was definitely trauma-inducing. 

Landon doesn't deserve this family, I thought bitterly as I tugged my shirt over my head. I paused before opening the door again. He doesn't deserve having me as a sister. Maybe Mom would be a little more lax on him if I wasn't so . . .

No! I shouted inwardly. This is not your fault. You can't help your weird, feral powers.

But maybe there was a possibility to get them removed.

If I could talk to Mr. Davenport or even Chase about it, they could probably come up with something to at least treat the outward "symptoms".

I shook myself. Telling them would only worsen things. Mr. Davenport would probably turn me into a soldier like his own kids, and I didn't want that. I had already killed an animal, I didn't want to kill people. Even though I had yet to do so, I was scared that was a very large possibility in the future.

Shivering, I opened my door and got halfway across the kitchen before my mom stopped me.

"Where are you going?"

"Out," I answered nonchalantly as I tugged on my tennis shoes.

"No, you're not!"

"Yes, yes I am."

"If you think for one second that you're going to go see that boy---!"

"What?" I spat back, crossing my arms. "You gonna stop me?"

She opened her mouth in protest but clamped it shut after a moment, at a loss for words. She spun on her heel and snatched the house phone off of the receiver, waving it at me threateningly.

"You step one foot out that door and I call the police on you," she snarled.

"Right. And then you'll be the one committing a crime for calling 911 for another reason other than an emergency," I reminded. "And then when you explain to them why you called them, you'll be in even more trouble for using the police for failing to be a parent."

And with that I opened the front door, stepped outside, and slammed it behind me without a second thought.

"I'm coming Marcus. You're the only excuse I have to leave the house today."

My heart scampered at the words. I guess my feelings weren't a totally stupid thing after all.