Half and half

chapter 2

Chapter 2

That night after the embarrassing situation of my class ditch, I lay in bed thinking about the girl, the boy and their obvious connection. But it wasn’t the only thing I pondered. I recalled the rush of triumph when I found the girl. Sorry, I don’t know why I said found. I mean, when I saw the girl. I frowned and after an hour of tossing and turning, I fell into a restless sleep.

Everything hurt. It wasn’t supposed to hurt this much. He promised. I need to get up or they’ll find me. They cannot find me. I put my hands in front of my face. I gasp in shock. No. No, this can’t be happening! He promised I wouldn’t get starcked! But yes. These were starcks. Around my wrists a black tattoo curls, creeping up my bare arm. I shiver. So cold. I need to get up. With a tremendous effort, I push off the ground. I look around me. Everything is dark. So this is dark. I had not imagined it would be this... the word evades me. They are catching up. I need to move. I hear footsteps. Only our and their kind could hear them. They are too quiet. Too stealthy. Too mesmerizing to be from a mortal. I leap to my feet. My head swings wildly around as I search for an exit. I am surrounded by woods. They cannot catch me. I look at the treetops. It is beginning to rain with their approach. Tap taptap. The clouds are gathering, waiting...

TAP TAPTAP. I jerked awake, disoriented. I looked around the room with a baffled expression. “What the...” I trailed off. “DYLAN HUNT!” I jerked upright. I turned my head towards the door, astonished. “What?” I called out. “You’re going to be late!” I heard my mother call in an exasperated voice from outside. I blinked like an owl. School. I turned as if in slow motion toward the digital clock beside me. 7:30. “oh.” I said simply, still confused. That dream had felt so real. I had felt her terror, her sense of betrayal. Whoa. Who said ‘it’ was a she? I got out of bed and stumbled to my walk-in closet. Rows of color-coordinated clothes greeted me. My maid, Farica, ordered them for me. I walked down the aisle, trailing my finger down the row of clothes. The girl. I had to see her hands. To see if they were starcked. Whatever that meant. But on some level, I knew. I knew that being starcked, meant to be hunted. I blinked again and shook my head. I was probably still half asleep. I chose a random pair of dark jeans and a random Polo shirt.

“Dylaaan...” Marie groaned. “Give. Me. My. Doughnut!” She leapt forward. I side stepped easily and she barreled head-first onto the wall. I laughed. Bad mistake. Instead of taking me full-on, guaranteeing safety on my part and a sore head on hers, she began throwing things at me. Her aim was deadly. I leapt to a side and a pair of scissors sailed past me. I crammed the last of the doughnut in my mouth. That enraged her. Screaming like a banshee, she began plucking random things and throwing them at me. I laughed because, unexplainably, I could see everything in slow-motion. I could see the way her arm tensed, how fast the object would fly depending on the distance her arm traveled backward. I sidestepped everything easily. Sometimes I didn’t even move. I swayed and the glass shattered on the wall. Marie was furious. She grabbed the chicken shears and hurtled them at me before thinking. It was too fast. She was going to hit me. Everything seemed to slow-down. Marie’s eyes widened when she came to the same realization I had. I saw the giant scissors speeding toward me. They were close enough I could tell it was going to strike point first. I closed my eyes. There was a loud thwack!I stayed in the same position thinking, shit I died. I heard Marie’s gasp and my eyes flew open. The tool hung suspended in the air in front of me. But the weirdest thing was, the point was flattened. As if it had actually hit me. My heart pounded. I lifted my hand and grabbed them. It was as easy as if they had been resting on a normal surface. Somehow, I wasn’t surprised. I left them on the counter and slipped out the back door. Marie’s shocked face filled my head. Whatever. I’d deal with her later. My heart was racing a million miles per hour. I took a deep breath and headed over to my Hummer. Marie had gotten in trouble thousands of times because of her temper. She even went to anger-management classes, but sometimes, I triggered another one of her rages, during which she wouldn’t think, just act, forcing me to react. I thought of the flattened point of the scissors. I spotted the grocery store Ben’s dad owned and headed toward it. Inside, I couldn’t find our type of shears, but I grabbed a pair that seemed close enough. I paid for them and thanked the guy that worked there. Then I walked outside. I faced the concrete wall in front of me. Then, I hurled the scissors with impossible speed and strength. The shears shattered into a million pieces. Okay, that wasn’t going to work. “Marie!” I bellowed. Something crashed inside the house and Marie soon appeared, looking startled. When she saw the other pair of shears in my hand, she paled and stopped dead. “Look, Dylan, I’m sorry...” she stammered, sure I was about to lynch her with the shears. That’s why she was so completely surprised when I offered them to her. She took them and I motioned to the wall. She passed them from hand to hand, looking shifty, and then threw them with all her strength toward the wall. It hit point-first, the way I wished they had. I took three long strides and picked up the shears. Perfectly pointed. They weren’t even dented. I frowned and went inside the house. The scissors were still on the floor. I grabbed them and compared them with the pair I’d just bought. The original ones were completely flattened and the new ones didn’t even have a scratch. Then I realized I was late for school. Not late. I missed it. It was 11:31. Oops. I got out of the house when it hit me. Marie hadn’t gone to school either. “Marie?” I called. “Yes?” she yelled from inside. “Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” a long pause. “I had the day off.” I frowned but didn’t push her.