Wither

Chapter 7

Cole is late.

I stand on the side walk, outside my apartment, facing the black pavement. My temper is on edge. He is 30 minutes late and the light sprinkle has already dampened my clean white hair. I breath heavily. My breathe comes out is puffs of white smoke.

The rain starts to pick up and my irritation becomes anger. The rain makes the pavement shine when the false yellow light from the lamp post hits it. The post is my only light source, since the thick mass of clouds has the audacity to completely obscure the light of the moon. The darkness is overwhelming. The fake yellow glow creates dark looming shadows that mock me. It feels like thousands of eyes peer out at me from them, silently judging me.

I hug myself trying to preserve the minuscule amount of warmth I have.

However the icy air still bites my revealed skin and I debate going to retrieve a coat from my room. I regret my decision of wearing such a skimpy outfit. The tight champaign sparkle skirt, that I was pressured into buying, does nothing to keep in warmth. And the white blouse, that I've tucked into my skirt, seems to be a magnet to the cold breeze. I silently wish for my warm jeans and a long sleeved shirt.

A wisp of cold air hits me and I shiver.

When Cole's silver car finally pulls up to the curb, I feel like a ice cube. Anger heats me, but I still gratefully climb into the car's dry and warm interior.

I have half a mind to curse Cole for being so late and leaving me out in the rain, but he apologizes promptly to my arrival.

"I'm so sorry Winter. The traffic was gruesome. I got here as soon as I could. Please don't hate me." His eyes are huge and his lips are slightly puckered. He looks like a puppy begging for approval. It's depressing and I regret even thinking about lecturing him.

"It's okay. I understand," I say softly. His eyes skim me over, doubting my forgiveness.

"Really Cole it's okay. I'm fine," I reassure.

"I'm sorry about your hair and clothes," he says ignoring me.

I give him a soft smile and say, "you worry too much." His gaze meets mine and he relaxes.

"It's in my genes." He shrugs and adds slightly awkwardly, "you look beautiful tonight by the way."

My cheeks redden and quickly turn toward the window opposite to him, to hide my embarrassment.

"Thanks," I reply nervously.

The ride to the club is comfortable. We chat about our first day at school. Apparently he got lost 5 times before finding his class room. I tell him about my monotone teacher and the new kid. I leave out the part about confronting Tristan and accusing him of haunting my dreams. I don't want my only friend thinking I'm crazy.

Cole asks how I'm feeling and gives me some aspirin, that he snuck from his mothers medicine closet. His mother is a doctor like him and his dad is a career teacher. Cole also has an older brother, but he is a Wither and isn't aloud to speak to his family anymore. Contact with relatives can spark emotion and Withers aren't aloud to feel. I have always thought it was cruel, but I don't dare speak against it. Withers are our source of protection and I don't want to poke around at something that has been working for centuries.

We arrive at a dingy looking building on the south side of town. It's connects to a few other shops that appear to be closed down. The buildings bricks are worn down from years of misuse and muck and waste cover the surrounding area. The only sign that the building is occupied is the long line that wraps around it and the muffled sound of music that radiates from the walls.