The Link 3 - The Huntress

Epilogue 1 - Zane

Pulling into the parking lot at school was exhilarating. I wasn't usually the one people noticed, but they noticed the 'vette. I pushed key fob to lock the door and walked toward the building as if I had just exited a Ford Pinto. It was a struggle not to smile like a fool.

"Damn, Zane. Where'd you get the ride?" Willard asked me. He was arguably my best friend this year. I kept the news of the 'vette quiet over the weekend fearing my mom would take the keys until I was twenty-one. Her confidence in me was surprising and welcome. I guess she finally figured out I wasn't a child anymore.

"Birthday present," I said as if it happened all the time. "My sister thought I could use a car. You know, relieve the parents of chauffeur duty and all." Everyone was aware of Teegan's newfound fortune, though none knew the true story behind it. I spent most of the last year dodging questions, doing my part to keep the secret, not that anyone would believe me anyway.

"Does your sister know my birthday is coming up?" Willard asked. I hit him in his shoulder, and he laughed after striking me back. "Don't want to share the wealth, huh?"

"Not mine to share," I said, "besides she only did it because I'm an excellent brother. You, on the other hand, are ugly and your mother dresses you funny." I knew my shoulder would be sporting a bruise after he hit me that time. It was hard to laugh and say 'ow' at the same time.

"You're taking me out this weekend. That car is like a babe magnet," Willard said as we split off for our different homerooms. "This weekend!" he said again from down the hall.

Girls that never gave me the time of day before were saying hi. It was almost embarrassing the way they made sure I was looking before they said it. I wasn't used to being the center of attention and could feel the blood rushing to my face as I fumbled out replies. It was difficult to try and maintain the image the car represented. Maybe I needed a leather jacket or something.

It was English where things heated up. Cathy Reynolds sat in front of me. I had always had a thing for her long hair. It was this silky dark brown color that flowed softly down to the small of her back. Willard insisted she was too smart and that dumber and bigger tits were the way to go. Of course, he was an idiot.

Dad always told me that smart women made the man. Sort of a backup when we did stupid things. I never envisioned mom being a back up and mentioned it. I was quickly told that it would be better if mom continued to think she was in charge and that dad was the backup in case the issue ever came up. It didn't take me long to figure out that dad was right about smart women. Things ran better with two brains, even if one of those brains didn't know who was in charge.

The car gave me courage. It was strange that an inanimate object could be so powerful. Instead of sitting silently behind Cathy and dreaming of what may be, I tapped her on the shoulder.

"You got an extra pencil?" I asked. It was a feeble attempt at starting a conversation, but I was still building up to something more concrete.

"Yeah, but it's short an eraser," Cathy said as she fished in her backpack. She turned with the pencil, and I nearly died. It was the smile that hit me and made my mind turn to mush. I almost dropped the pencil as I took it from her hands, those hazel eyes were too close.

"Thank you," I said in broken English. Great, a 'vette driven by a guy who couldn't even talk to a girl. Maybe she'll just turn around before I wet myself or something. She was way out of my league. The league of wimps with no tongues.

"I like your new car," Cathy continued.

"A birthday present from my sister," I said quickly. It came out fast and sounded awkward.