The Enemy of Time, page 6
I watched her for a second, my steps slowing as concern began to creep in. She nearly tripped, catching herself on the senior’s arm, her eyes glazed with the alcohol she’d been tossing back so easily. Something wasn’t quite right. Kayla’s laughter was a little too loud, and her steps a little too wobbly.
“Kayla, maybe—” I began, but my words were drowned out by someone yelling from the other side of the room.
“Spin the Bottle upstairs! Let’s go!”
Kayla’s eyes lit up like fireworks. “I love that game!” she squealed, grabbing my arm tightly. Her fingers dug into my skin as she yanked me toward the staircase, her pace quick, almost frantic.
“Wait, Kayla, maybe we should—” I tried again, but she was already pulling me through the crowd.
Kayla flew up the stairs, the senior boy trailing behind her as she darted to the top. Nicholas eagerly followed behind, urging me to come along. But something didn’t feel right about this whole thing.
“Kayla, hold on!” I called after her, but she was already halfway up, not bothering to look back. Her hair swayed as she dodged people, determined to get to whatever madness was waiting upstairs.
Lucas, standing near the foot of the stairs, groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “Is she serious right now?”
Jamie appeared next to me. Everything was happening so fast that I couldn’t keep up with the shifting world. My head was spinning from too much heat and too much cheap liquor.
Jamie shifted next to me, his eyebrows raised as he stared at Kayla disappearing up the stairs. “What’s her deal tonight? She’s acting like it’s her last night on earth.”
Lucas sighed heavily, eyes still on the top of the staircase. “Something is going on. Did she say anything to either of you guys?”
I shook my head. “No, but I haven’t talked to her much this past week.”
I looked up and saw Kayla leaning over the banister, waving us up. “Come on, Alex!”
Jamie ran a worried hand through his hair. “We can’t leave her alone up there. Can we?”
“No,” Lucas spat, already heading up the stairs.
Jamie rolled his eyes but followed Lucas, shooting me a glance. “Guess we’re all going, then.”
I sighed because, of course, I had to follow. “Lead the way, boys,” I said dryly, dragging my feet as I made my way up after them.
The hallway at the top of the staircase felt narrow, packed with bodies moving in and out of rooms. I followed closely behind Jamie and Lucas, my shoes scuffing on the steps. The closer we got to the top, the louder Kayla’s giggles became.
“Finally! Took you guys long enough.” Kayla bounced on her toes impatiently.
Lucas gave her a flat look. “This is dumb, you know that, right?”
She rolled her eyes. “Loosen up, Lucas. It’s just a game.”
“Yeah, a game everyone gets mono from,” he muttered.
We moved to sit in a circle with people we barely knew, who were much older than the three of us. On one side of me was Jamie, practically radiating annoyance, and on the other was Nicholas, grinning from ear to ear. His attention was flattering, but right now, I was more concerned about Kayla, who was walking a tight line between fun drunk and the kind where your insides somersault out your nose. Yet, she was still acting like everything was fine.
She bounced around the room like a pinball, kissing anyone the bottle landed on, boys, girls—it was all the same to her. Most of the others were laughing and encouraging her, but Lucas, sitting next to Jamie, looked like he was about to turn into a knight in shining armor. Soldier boy mode activated.
“Damn, she’s going to regret this tomorrow.” I grimaced.
“I’m just trying to figure out when to step in,” Lucas answered.
“Now would be good,” I said a little louder as Kayla leaned in to kiss a girl with a pixie cut. She was laughing, but in a manner that made me wonder if she was trying too hard.
It was now Nicholas’s turn, which he speedily took. The bottle spun again, its glass scraping against the wood floor with a sharp pitch. It landed directly in front of me, the little bit of Coke still trapped in the glass sparkling as it came to a stop.
Nicholas leaned in slightly, the corners of his mouth curling into a teasing smirk. I caught Jamie moving out of the corner of my eye. His hand flexed, his fingers curling into a fist. There was a tightness in his posture, a barely restrained tension that made me want to push him just a little harder.
I leaned in and gave Nicholas a quick kiss. It was over in a second. When I pulled away, Nicholas was still grinning, and I gave him a polite smile, resisting the urge to taunt Jamie with a glance.
Next, it was my turn to spin, and just my luck, it landed on some random guy I barely knew. I shifted forward, preparing my mouth for the attack, when a hand grabbed my wrist, yanking me back. My heart jumped into my throat as Jamie pulled me toward him.
“Hey—” I began, but my words disappeared the second his lips crashed into mine.
He kissed me—no warning, no build-up—a quick, unexpected press of his lips against mine that left me completely flustered. My heart hammered in my chest, and my hands found the fabric of his shirt, clutching it as if to steady myself.
After a dizzying few seconds, Jamie broke the kiss, but he didn’t move far. His forehead pressed against mine, his breath warm against me, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.
“I’m done watching you kiss other guys.” His words brushed against my skin.
I blinked, trying to process what had just happened. I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Kayla’s voice cut through the moment like a knife. “My turn!” she yelled, oblivious to the emotional storm in my mind.
Jamie hesitated, his hand loosening around me, but he didn’t move away. His eyes lingered on mine for a moment longer before he finally let go, leaning back into his spot.
I tried to catch my breath, but it was hopeless. I was hopeless. We were hopeless.
God, I’m screwed, I thought as I watched Kayla spin the bottle.
Her hands trembled slightly, and her eyes looked dazed as the bottle landed on the senior boy for the second time. According to the game rules, this meant that a simple peck on the lips wouldn't suffice. Kayla and the boy stumbled toward the closet, just a few feet away from where we were sitting, to conduct their awkward Seven Minutes in Heaven.
For 420 seconds, Lucas's knees bounced a hundred times as he stared at the closet door, seconds away from tearing it off its hinges. He shook his head, his voice tight. “I can’t just sit here and watch her do this.”
The closet door opened before I could say anything, and the senior boy poked his head out with a smirk. “We may need another seven minutes.” He laughed as if it were all a big joke.
Kayla stumbled out, her shirt gone, her hair a tangled mess. She swayed forward, one hand clutching the frame for support. Before she could take another step, the boy’s arm shot out, gripping her wrist, yanking her backward. She stumbled, her body collapsing into the clothes hanging behind her, a low, mumbled plea slipping from her lips. “Let me out …” Her words were slurred and soft, but the boy didn’t listen. Instead, he shoved her further inside, the door snapping shut behind them.
That was all Lucas needed. He was on his feet in an instant, his body taut, his eyes dark with rage. He crossed the room in two long strides, every muscle in his frame coiled like a spring about to snap. Some random guy, lounging by the door like a self-appointed guard, reached out to stop him. Lucas barely acknowledged him—one shove and the guy flew backward, crashing to the ground, landing flat on his ass with a grunt.
Lucas reached the closet in seconds, yanking the door open so hard the hinges groaned. His hand shot out and grabbed the senior by the collar. Without hesitation, he ripped him away from Kayla and slammed him against the doorframe, pinning his neck to the wood.
“Lucas, what the hell?” Kayla’s voice trembled as she attempted to pull Lucas back, but her efforts were weak and did nothing to stop him. “Stop it!” Kayla shrieked.
Lucas didn’t even register her plea. His chest was heaving as he pushed his forearm into the senior’s neck, crushing his throat. “If you ever touch her again, I’ll break your fingers.” Lucas leaned closer, his weight pressing on the guy, who was squirming helplessly. “And you can kiss any football scholarship goodbye. You hear me?”
The guy stammered something incoherent, his face pale with panic. “Yes! Yes, okay! Just get off me!” he finally yelled, his voice cracking.
Lucas stayed there for another second, his gaze lethal, before releasing the boy. He turned to Kayla, who looked eager for an argument until she glanced down momentarily at her half-naked chest. Kayla’s hands flew up to cover herself. She looked completely lost, her whole body trembling.
Lucas acted so quickly that it almost startled me. He slipped off his flannel, wrapped it gently around Kayla’s body like a blanket, and pulled her close, his arm circling her protectively as though nothing else mattered. He guided her toward the door, leaving the guy crumpled on the ground, still gasping for air.
“We’re leaving,” he commanded Jamie and me.
Jamie’s hand slipped into mine, his fingers firm and steady. “It’s okay,” he whispered. I hadn’t even realized my breath had caught in my throat, but his thumb brushed against my palm, grounding me. “She’s alright.”
I felt his other hand against my cheek, gently wiping away a tear I didn’t even realize had escaped. I didn’t even know why I was crying. Everything happened so quickly; only seconds ago, we were all joking around, and then, in the blink of an eye, everything spiraled out of control. What would have happened if Lucas hadn’t been there? Would anyone else have helped Kayla? Would she have made it out of that closet? Or would the party have continued uninterrupted, with everyone silently witnessing this assault?
My heart pounded in my ears, but the noise of the room was distant, as if I were underwater. Jamie’s hand stayed warm on my face. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”
He kept his arm around me as we followed Lucas, my legs shaking beneath me, the adrenaline pumping. We moved through the house, the party fading into the background like some distant nightmare, until the cool night air hit me, sharp and sobering.
Kayla wiggled out of Lucas’s hold, her bare feet stumbling on the grass as she turned her body to face the three of us. We didn’t say a thing. Six hundred thousand words in the dictionary, and not one of them seemed right.
“Stop looking at me like that! I’m not some damsel in distress.”
Lucas stepped closer to her. “Then stop acting like a spoiled princess in need of saving!”
Kayla froze at the intensity in his voice.
He lowered his tone, which was barely audible over the breeze that stirred the trees around us. “Kayla, what’s going on?” His hands came up, gently resting on her shoulders. She flinched at the contact but didn’t pull away. Her eyes flickered up to his, tears clinging to her lashes, tracing silent paths down her cheeks.
Her lips parted, but no words came out. She closed her mouth, swallowed hard, and stared at the ground as if it held the answers she couldn’t find. Her hands fidgeted at her sides, fingers curling and uncurling around the hem of Lucas’s flannel.
Lucas waited, his gaze steady, never leaving her face. His grip on her shoulders tightened just slightly, a wordless reassurance, a silent I’m here.
Finally, she looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and glassy. Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. “She should’ve been here, Lucas … my mom … she should’ve been here.” Kayla’s face crumpled. “She should’ve been here to see my first day of high school.”
Lucas’s brow furrowed, and for a moment, it was like watching all the pieces of a puzzle click into place behind his eyes. Without saying anything, he stepped forward and pulled her into his chest. Kayla collapsed against him, her arms wrapping around his waist, her body trembling with silent sobs. Her shoulders shook violently as she clung to the front of his shirt, fingers gripping the fabric as though it were the only thing keeping her upright. Lucas’s arms circled her fully, pulling her closer, his hand rubbing slow, soothing circles across her back. He didn’t speak—he didn’t need to. He just held her, his chin resting on the top of her head, grounding her as her tears soaked into his shirt.
It made sense now, the reason she’d been spinning through the night like a hurricane. I only knew fragments of the story. Kayla's dad needed to move back home to take care of his elderly mother, but Kayla's mom refused to uproot her life and follow. That was the story they told everyone. However, one night during a sleepover at Kayla's place, I overheard him telling his mother that Kayla’s mom had left because of another man.
I watched Lucas hold Kayla as she cried, feeling completely useless. This wasn’t just Kayla being a wild teenager or acting out for attention. This was simply a young girl who missed her mom. A young girl who had built her new life around pretending not to care that her mother wasn’t there, and now that façade was cracking, falling apart under the weight of what she wanted—her mom to care enough to show up.
Jamie moved beside me, his arm sliding around my waist. He didn’t say anything, but the way his hand rested on my side, the way his body leaned into mine, made me feel anchored. He tugged me forward, pulling me into a hug, and before I knew it, all four of us were there, wrapped together in this tangled mess of arms and emotions. I felt Kayla’s shaky breaths against my shoulder, Lucas’s hand still moving rhythmically along her back, and Jamie’s warmth pressing into my side, steady and reassuring.
Jamie glanced down at me. “Truce?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.
“Truce,” I whispered back.
For a moment, none of the tension or fights from earlier mattered. It was just the four of us, and somehow, that was enough.
Chapter eight
The past doesn’t stop hurting.
The present won’t stop ticking.
The future can’t stop looming.
So, what’s the worst of the three?
The person who can’t let them be.
8:00 p.m.
I was armed with a damp cloth as I wiped every last trace of spaghetti and hot-dog pieces off the walls. The cold, slimy remnants stained the paint worse than spilled wine on a cotton shirt. I needed a fake ID, a thousand dollars in cash, and a fast car to escape my mother's wrath.
Kayla meticulously stacked the plates and cutlery as she cleared the dining table. Awkward silences were her kryptonite, and currently, all three of us were held captive by the emptiness of words. The only sound came from the clinking of glass and china, orchestrated by Lucas as he scrubbed the dishes clean.
Five years had passed since we graduated high school—only five years, yet it was painfully apparent that time had hardened us. We had become strangers to each other, like three walking corpses: the same features, same hair, same eyes, but lifeless and cold. How could three people, who had once known every intimate detail about each other, now feel so detached?
The absence of sound stung like acid, eroding my bones, but it was still better than speaking words I didn’t believe and better than hearing ones I didn’t want to. However, what I wanted and what I got never seemed to align. Kayla was the first to attempt to break the ice. She carried a stack of forks, knives, and plates into the kitchen and placed them next to the rest of the piled dishes.
Lucas’s eyes widened at the mess of china, which continued to multiply before his eyes. “This is worse than when I worked at Grannie’s as a dishwasher sophomore year,” he grumbled as he grabbed a dirty dish from the middle of the pile and plunged it into the scalding water.
Kayla hopped onto the counter, her heels bouncing off the cabinet as she slid back into a seated position. “Hey, you can’t claim all the misery. We all worked at Grannie’s that year.”
Lucas continued to scrub dish after dish. “You get no sympathy from me. You spent the entire year flirting with every customer from age fifteen to thirty. Grannie had to warn the basketball team about you.”
A subtle smirk of mischief painted Kayla’s lips, “Then it’s a good thing I only had eyes for the football team.”
Ouch … I knew Kayla was trying to make conversation, and her way of breaking bread was usually accomplished by breaking boundaries. But right now, her flirtatious anecdotes were the last thing Lucas needed. He was the wide receiver for our team and had spent his entire high school life pining after Kayla, only for the love of his life to cheat on him with his best friend after they finally got together. Lucas had faced the same situation I had, but he seemed to handle it better. It was as if his mind functioned like a giant filing system, with a folder for every betrayal neatly tucked away—always present but never reopened.
Lucas dropped the plate he was scrubbing into the hot, soapy water and stared into the cloudy liquid as though it were a crystal ball.
“Don’t,” he whispered to the submerged plates. “Please just don’t do that.” His voice stopped as if his own words hurt him. “I used to love hearing my name dance off your lips.” His big eyes met Kayla’s shocked ones. “But now it just hurts too much.”
Kayla’s voice was so low I could barely hear her words. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” Kayla moved her hand to his cheek, but he flinched like her skin burned.
“I don’t want you to be sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.” His gaze softened. “But I can't allow myself to feel even a fraction of what I felt for you in the past.” He tucked a single braid behind her ear. “When you speak to me as if we are still sixteen, my heart forgets what my brain will always remember, and I don’t deserve that pain.”
