Excerpt: Untitled

Chapter One: The Fine Line

The staircase seemed as if it would never end. Or maybe it seemed that way just because she was taking her time getting up them. She didn’t know what she would find at the top. The flip-flopping in her gut both frightened her and added to the excitement she was already feeling. Each step took her closer to the door at the top. It was a surprise when she found herself standing in front of the door so soon. She reached out with a hesitant hand toward the doorknob, and turned it.
It was already unlocked.
Her brow furrowed questioningly, and she suddenly began to feel a little nauseated. She shouldn’t have done it, but she threw open the door, and stepped inside the room. Shutting the door behind her, she stared forward into the darkness and immediately began wondering why she had even come here in the first place. There was no logical reason why she should be here. She had done it on a whim, without any real thought.
She stood there for what seemed like a lot longer than a few seconds before she decided she should probably just go ahead and leave. She spun around and suddenly stopped. There in front of her was precisely the reason why she was currently telling herself what an idiot she had been to come here.
He stood there like a statue, blocking the door and staring at her with an unconcerned air. He didn’t waste any time with formalities.
“Why are you here, Kara?”
Kara didn’t know how to respond. How was she supposed to answer that question when she didn’t even know the reason behind her visit? Instead, she just stared back at him as a deer might when faced with the sudden realization that the mountain lion was about to pounce, and there was nowhere to run to.
He looked at her, silently waiting for her to explain herself.
Oh, she was so stupid! She hadn’t planned this far. Everything that had happened up until this point had been her completely winging it. There was no alternate plan in line if something like this were to happen--the possibility of this happening hadn’t even crossed her mind. This fact brought on a fresh wave of mental slaps in the face.
“I…” Kara paused, fumbling in her head for words to fill the silence. “I… came to return something to you.”
At least something had come out. Maybe it would buy her some more time.
He cocked his head to the side, narrowing his eyes at her, and repeated, sounding highly skeptical, “Return something to me?”
Kara nodded.
He crossed his arms and took up a more relaxed stance, silent for a moment. “Well?” he prompted.
She really did need to think things through more…. She involuntarily backed up a step, breaking eye contact with him, and looked to the surrounding attic instead, grasping for anything to help her out. Then, something caught her attention. It glimmered slightly in the remaining sunlight coming in through the boards over the only window in the room, and looked to be made of metal.
Her eyes darted back to him. He didn’t look like he had much patience left. She looked at the item again. It was just to the left of her, partially hidden by another larger object with a sheet draped over it--easily within reach if she really wanted to get to it. Suddenly, he moved, and she looked up.
He had taken a step toward her, closing in the distance between the both of them and saying, “I don’t have time for this.”
Kara, not having time to think of anything better, suddenly yelled, “Now, Maryn!” and looked past him to a corner of the attic.
He spun on the spot to see who Kara had addressed, and Kara took the opportunity to lunge for the shiny metal object. He barely had time to comprehend what had happened before Kara had the object in her grasp, facing him, ready to defend herself. He took one look at Kara, an ornate candlestick holder hovering above her head in her hand, and smirked.
“What are you going to do with that? Set up a nice little dinner for the two of us?”
Kara merely stood there and licked her lips nervously, the candlestick holder shaking in her hand. All she knew was that if he took another step toward her, the only thing he was going to be doing tonight was making a trip to the E.R.
He sized Kara up for a moment, his smirk turning into a look of regret, as if he had just realized something truly sad, “Oh… that’s too bad….”
Kara’s eyebrows knit together slightly, and she frowned.
“You only brought enough for one,” he finished, his saddened expression turning into one of wicked enjoyment.
Kara only had a moment to understand the meaning behind those words before he sprang at her.
“Miss Johnson?”
Kara’s eyes flicked up from where she had been staring at the open notebook on her desk to the man addressing her at the front of the classroom. She stared at him for a moment, frantically trying to remember what the last words that came out of his mouth were.
When nothing came to mind, she asked hesitantly, “Can you repeat the question?”
Mr. Brooks looked disapprovingly at Kara before turning his attention to another student who had obviously heard the question.
“The Visigoths in 410.”
“Excellent,” said Mr. Brooks.
Kara returned her gaze to her notebook, not wanting to catch the teacher’s eye, and wondered how stupid she must have looked.
Mr. Brooks continued to drone on, “Now, it’s important to understand that this incident is a major turning point for Rome…”
The remaining thirty minutes in History class was spent by Kara trying to stay awake and look like she was listening. Occasionally, she would write something down, mostly when Mr. Brooks wandered near her desk. When the bell finally rang, Kara gathered her books, dropped them into her book bag, and headed to her locker. She had just put in her algebra book when a girl popped up beside her, holding a few pieces of paper that were stapled together.
“Can you believe this?” the girl asked.
Kara looked down at the paper on the top of the stack and saw the number fifty-eight written in red ink in a corner of the page. She looked up at the girl with a sympathetic smile.
“I studied all night for this thing!” the girl complained to Kara.
“Maryn, I don’t really think that watching movies, eating gummy worms, and making fun of Mr. Brooks’s toupee counts as studying,” Kara said.
“Yeah, but I was confident that I picked up something in the ten minutes we did study,” Maryn replied, looking at her test, obviously frustrated.
Laughing, Kara turned her attention back to her locker as Maryn stuffed her test into her backpack. The two girls then made their way to the gym for their last class of the day: P.E. This month, the sport was basketball, so, after changing, the students divided themselves into groups and went to different goals to shoot.
Kara wasn’t bad at basketball, but she wasn’t necessarily good either. It was one of her least favorite sports simply because of the fact that she found it incredibly boring to run back and forth down the same eighty-four-feet long stretch of wooden floor for over half an hour. Maryn was the same way, only she held a great dislike for any sport that required its players to do anything more strenuous than walking.
“I don’t even know why this is required,” Maryn began, as she balanced the basketball in her hands, readying herself to shoot. “It’s not like I want to become a professional basketball player.” She threw the ball toward the net, and watched as it bounced off the headboard to the floor.
“It helps us with our hand-eye coordination,” Kara replied as she launched her own ball, which ricocheted off the rim of the hoop.
“Yeah,” Maryn said, as she walked to the back of the line of shooting students, “I can see why they would think to teach you that skill.”
Kara gave Maryn a disparaging look as she passed by, smirking. When Kara stopped behind Maryn in the line, she gave her a playful nudge in the back with the ball. Maryn turned so that she could dribble her ball in place and still talk to Kara. She opened her mouth to say something as her eyes darted to some place behind Kara, but she suddenly grabbed up her basketball instead.
“Get a load of this,” Maryn said, nodding in the direction she was looking.
Kara turned around. Across the gym, another group of people were doing the same drill they were doing. The girl at the front of the line was getting ready to shoot, but she wasn’t left alone to defend against the perils of inexperienced basketball shooting. A boy was standing right behind her, his hands on the girl’s, showing them where they ought to be on the ball. He whispered something in her ear, and the girl giggled and nodded. The boy backed away to watch as the girl focused on the target. After appearing to count to three with a few ups and downs of the ball, the girl let the basketball go in a perfect arc to the goal. The ball hit the rim, making its way around the inside of it before rolling over the edge and falling to the floor. The girl voiced her disappointment with an “ooooh!” as the boy caught the ball after one bounce, and headed over to her with an amused expression. He squeezed the girl’s waist with an arm in a comforting gesture as they both strolled to the end of the line.
Kara watched the two of them for a moment more, then turned back to Maryn, who was still looking at the couple with look of disgust.
“Maybe we should ask him to give us a few pointers,” Kara said jokingly.
“Oh, yeah,” Maryn replied, “you’d love that, wouldn’t you?”
Kara laughed, “Unfortunately, I don’t think little Miss Addie over there would be that obliging.”
Kara smiled a little, feeling herself blush slightly just thinking about having his hands on hers and feeling his breath on her ear as he whispered reassuring words to her. She began bouncing the ball in front of her so that Maryn couldn’t tell what she was thinking.
Maryn sighed and, still looking in the couple’s direction, only this time with an expression of contemplation, said, “Too bad Alton can’t put those sweet basketball skills to work in the classroom… poor kid probably can’t even spell ‘basketball’….”
Kara heard Maryn speaking, but wasn’t really listening. She was too busy trying not to think too much about being in Addie’s place. For the rest of the period, shots were taken and shots were missed¾more of the latter than the former¾and by the end of the class, Kara was ready to all too ready to go home. The two girls made their way to the parking lot, and got into Maryn’s car to head to Kara’s house. On the way, they chatted about the upcoming basketball game, and expounded on the question of whether or not Addie Miller could drown. They came to the conclusion that all the air in her head would keep her afloat long enough to get out a good cry for help.
Maryn pulled her car into the driveway. Kara gathered her things and opened the door. As she exited the car, Maryn’s voice made her pause.
“Don’t forget about my house tomorrow night! And remember to bring those shoes of mine you borrowed last week, I’ve missed not being able to wear them…,” she finished sadly.
“Will do,” said Kara with a smile. “Thanks for the ride. See you tomorrow.” She waved goodbye, slinging her book bag across her shoulder and heading toward the front door of her house.