The Hunted

Chapter Nine • Rose

Chapter Nine • Rose

“So you found Shelly?” I almost shrieked with joy once we were inside the warmth of the house. “And she’s alright?”

            “She’s fine,” Dieter assured me over the phone. “She’s currently parked on my driveway. You wanna talk to her?”

            I ignored his comment. “Is my phone there too?”

            “Phone’s there too,” he repeated impatiently.

            I sighed with relief. “Thank you so much, Dieter.”

            After my conversation with Dieter, I handed John his phone. He stuffed it in his back pocket. “Let’s go find you some girl clothes?” He suggested, eying my apparel.

            “Yes, finally! Get me out of these baggy clothes!” I nearly shouted. I felt so exposed in Levi’s oversized shirt and sweats.

            John gave me a skeptical look as he managed to think of another meaning to my words. “And that is one of the many reasons why I like you.” He leaned down and kissed me on the cheek, sparing me from any further embarrassment. “Even though you are somewhat odd,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against mine. His dark shaggy hair covered one of his eyes.

            “I admit to being odd.” I replied brushing my lips to his.

            John and I made our way upstairs to my room. I pushed open my door and looked around my room. Thankfully, it wasn’t too disorganized. Even though I had known him for most of my life, I somehow attained a newfound sense of nervousness when I was around John. He saw me dressed in denim overalls and a bad haircut everyday during one summer when we were kids. He saw me in my awkward zit face days and now I’m nervous around him. Sometimes I wonder if there’s something wrong with me.

“I can see you’ve rearranged your room.” John noted as he stuffed his hands in his front pockets. “You finally got rid of all your High-School Musical posters, eh?”

            My cheeks felt hot as I watched his eyes dart around the room. “Yeah. But they may or may not be under the bed.” I paused in front of my closet and looked back at John. “Don’t you dare think about it, John Wilson.” I pulled out a pair of jeans and tossed them on top of my bed.

            John sauntered slowly over towards the bed. The mattress groaned as he flopped on top of it. “Do what?” he asked innocently.

            “Turn around and close your eyes.” I instructed as I shrugged out of Levi’s sweatshirt. “And I know you were planning on looking under the bed.”

            “Was not.” His voice was muffled by my fuzzy pillow.

            Once properly clothed, I sat across from John on the bed. “So now what?”

            “Do you want to go somewhere?”

            “What do you have in mind?”

            John was quiet for a moment as he thought. “Actually, do you happen to have a guitar?”

            “Dad does downstairs in his study. I’m not allowed in there, but what he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” I climbed off of the bed and stood in front of John. “You know how to play guitar?”

            He nodded. “And some piano. I’m not very good at piano though. My fingers always hit the wrong key.”

            “I’ve known you most of my life, and I still didn’t know that about you.” I sighed slightly. “Shows how observant I am.”