Nyx (ON HOLD)

First Day, Part II

Ethan leaned against the chipped wooden frame surrounding the front door, grinning down at me from beneath his cascade of raven bangs as though he owned the house rather than my grandmother.

The silver necklace in my pocket suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds, anchoring my feet to the hardwood floor just inside the Victorian's threshold. He wasn't blocking the doorway by any means, yet my blood was still up from that strange encounter with Adaline in the kitchen, and my heartbeat thrummed in my ears like hummingbird wings. I stood there, glaring up at him and waiting for him to move, but his smile only faded a little.

After a few seconds I raised my eyebrows suddenly, as if daring him to speak, but he only repeated, "Morning, Mel."

Ugh — I should never have told him I preferred that. He would've been so much easier to detest if he'd still called me Melody.

"Thought you might like a ride to school, anyway," Ethan amended after another few second of my furry-eyed glare.

Despite Adaline's mention of a ride to the boatyard after school, she hadn't made any mention of getting to the place this morning; I knew enough from previous moves that bus drivers couldn't magically intuit that a kid with a backpack beside the road actually went to the correct school, especially if there were any private academies or study centers in the area. A few times Mom had forgotten to ask to have me added to the bus routes when she enrolled me, and I'd stared openmouthed as the aged yellow things whizzed right past me on a first day. Given the way my grandmother hadn't even known to be home when I first arrived, it seemed unlikely she had remembered this other important detail.

The details about my new school were hazy in my mind, but I remembered well enough staring at it on my phone as the tri-state bus bore me here yesterday. There were two ways to get to Marblehead High School; following the narrow road that wound from where I stood along the top of the cliffs and down into town seemed more dangerous, both due to the chance of getting hit by a stray car, and because finding my way from the heart of Marblehead village to the school itself would be a nightmare. Small towns often seemed riddled with wandering side streets, as though the roads had been woven by shaky-legged spiders, and often doubled back onto themselves in unexpected ways. Even with my maps app for a guide, I could easily get lost.

The second way, the one I remembered from yesterday's ride, was a trail that cut over the forested rise before me and through the lowlands beyond; the school was on its far side. Though the initial grade looked steeper than I'd been expecting, the whole thing was only maybe a ten minute walk. I'd probably be a little sweaty when I reached the school, but it was a lot more straightforward than the alternative.

Of course, I could always just accept Ethan's ride and be done with it...but the thought of sitting in a confined space with the strange boy just made my stomach turn with nervousness. I never knew what to say around people.

No, it'd be easier to do this on my own.

"Thanks for the offer, but I'll be all right." I tried to brush past Ethan and shut the front door behind me, but the dark, lanky boy kept pace with me as I headed down the front porch steps and toward the road. I glanced up at him, my brow contorted in a frown as he fell into step beside me; his grin had faded, and something jolted in my stomach like a physical blow as I found his ink-dark eyes, now even more shadowy with worry.

"That isn't safe." Ethan's voice was filled with concern, too, and I tore my gaze away from his. He spoke with such familiarity, as though he had any right to impose on me — and that jarring electric sting as I'd seen him looking at me had been too much to endure. I had too much to focus on today.

"Like I said," I muttered quickly, "thanks, but I'm good."

The rustbucket car I'd seen in Ethan's family's driveway yesterday was now parked just ahead of us, exhaust skirling out of its tailpipe into the chill air as it waited — and the presumption of it was enough to make me remember my anger. My teeth gritted hard enough to creak, and my fingers unconsciously curled against my palms, the nails biting me like sharp rebukes as I veered away, toward the sign for the trailhead that I'd seen as the taxi pulled to a stop yesterday. It was just a few hundred yards up the road from Ethan's house, the opposite way from town.