Chapter Twelve

Jace

Drumming my fingers against the steering wheel, music blaring and the cool wind flowing through my open windows...exactly what I needed.

We'd kicked ass last night at the game. Firing on all cylinders. The celebration party after was epic, too. And now, my KOS outline and I had the rest of the day to head to the library in Clover to sit and write for six straight hours.

No babysitting Lily.

No football players looking over my shoulder.

No interruptions.

I really wanted to dig into this new direction Masrin's character was going.

Someone darted across the street. I pressed the brakes, not really in any danger of hitting the person, but still. I glanced around looking for more people, but saw only the one.

Dark pants. Dark shirt. Bright pink hair.

"McKenna?"

On my right, there was an older neighborhood that backed right up to a convent. I guess nuns still lived there and everything. The solid brick building loomed over the ten-foot walls surrounding an older subdivision on the outskirts of town. She must have run out from there, huh?

On the left was an abandoned building. Actually a couple of them, but they were all empty. No other cars were on the single-lane county road, so I pulled over onto the soft shoulder.

McKenna vanished around the corner of the run-down brick building, hugging a backpack to her shoulder. I made a U-turn so I could park on the side of the road she'd crossed to. Killing the engine, I gave the area a once-over.

The afternoon sun was muted by thick gray clouds and the buildings looked like they were straight out of a horror novel. There were two of them looming behind the broken, wrought-iron gate that maybe once, when it was functional, hemmed in a nice estate.

She'd snuck through the gate and gone toward the larger building on the right. It once was brick, but most had crumbled to the overgrown grounds.

It actually kind of reminded me of some of the structures in KOS.

I snagged my backpack, then hopped out of the car and hustled to the fence. I wasn't sure why, but I had to know where she was going. I threaded my arms through my backpack, securing it to me, then bent my legs and ducked under the useless chain around the gate entrance and hustled to my right.

Dried leaves and twigs crackled beneath my shoes and

it sent a shiver up my spine. Several huge aspen trees were up ahead, at the corner of the building McKenna had run toward. Branches hung over and the lowest ones raked against the roof tiles, screeching as they did.

Legit, B-rated horror scene right here.

I was probably going to get murdered by the ghost of whoever haunted this place, but I pressed on. I approached the corner and peeked around, working to calm my heart in the process.

McKenna ducked through another gate, a much narrower one this time, more like one that would be in front of a house or something. The rusty gate clanged shut, so I made my way, tiptoeing. I wasn't sure why, because the gravel, leaves, and twigs pretty much gave me away that I was walking down what used to be a sidewalk or small path.

A door ahead, that led into the ground floor of a two- story, nearly gutted building, slammed shut. She'd gone in there? Holy crap.

I made my way through the gate and to the door. I put my ear to it and all I heard was shuffling. Slowly, I pulled it open and a creak that rivaled the one in the opening part of Michael Jackson's Thriller ripped through the air. I stepped in, crunching what was left of the wooden floor directly inside the tiny room.

McKenna screamed as she turned. Something smashed into my cheek and I spun around. I palmed the wall beside the door.

"It's me! Jace!" I shouted, showing her my hand while my free hand went to my jaw. What the hell had she hit me with?

"Jace!" she yelled at me. "What. The. Fuck?"

I faced her full-on, still holding my cheek. "What did you hit me with?"

"My fist!" She shook her hand out, then leaned forward gasping for air. "You scared the shit out of me!"

"That was your fist?" Dang, she'd clipped me good. It might even leave a mark.

"What are you doing here?" She stood up again and grasped her chest. "I think I just had six heart attacks." "What am I doing here? What are you doing here?" I finally calmed down enough to take in the surroundings.

It was one room, like a living room in a former life. The windows to my right were broken out. To my left there was another doorway of some sort that maybe led to another hallway. Back behind McKenna, maybe where she'd been going when I'd come in, looked to be a stairwell of some sort with another hallway off to the left of it.

It was dim in here, since there was no lighting or anything, but I could still make out her wide green eyes. Her jaw was tense and her chest was heaving.

"Seriously. What the hell?" I asked, giving my jaw one more rub. "Where'd you learn to hit like that?"

"I have a better question. Did your little sister teach you how to scream like that?"

"Very funny."

McKenna tapped her boot-clad foot against the floor. "For real though, what the hell are you doing here? You following me or something?"

"No. I was driving to Clover and—you darted across the road to this place."

"So..."

"I...was curious. This place is creepy."

"Oooh... Are you scared? Do you need a little blankie?"

She shook her head.

I turned around, getting ready to walk back to my car. "Wait." Her voice sounded hesitant.

I froze, keeping my back to her.

She poked her finger in my back. "You can stay, but if you tell anyone about this place...I'll tell everyone you write KOS."

I looked over my shoulder to find her staring me down and I grinned. "Deal."

"Come on." She started walking, heading toward the stairwell.

"You're going to walk up those..." I pointed to the rotted stairs.

"Just stay to the left. Walk where I walk."

I drew in a deep breath, knowing that logically I should turn back. This was too weird. And I should really get to the library. I had a lot of writing to do.

But I was intrigued. McKenna was full of surprises. And this place... Hell yeah, I was going to write this in a scene.

"Where are we?" I asked, following her footsteps exactly. The creaking I was hearing as I took each step hiked my heart rate back up to sprint pace. I weighed more than her; maybe she wouldn't fall through, but I could.

"Used to be a school, like a billion years ago." At the top of the stairs she ventured to the right, the boards under her feet creaking in protest.

"And you're here because..."

She didn't answer as she pushed open two French doors.

We stepped into what might be an old classroom, but it was fitted out like a master bedroom or something. Which was beyond weird. To the left it looked like there was a mattress on the floor. There was a pink comforter folded in the middle. Up ahead was a large glass window and somehow, it wasn't broken. I wasn't sure how that was possible, but whatever. There was a beanbag chair on the floor near the window. To my right was a brown wooden dresser of some sort and then another door. I peeked my head in and found a bathroom.

"I thought this was a school." I stepped toward the window McKenna was standing near, looking out.

"It was. This was the living quarters of the person who ran it, maybe." She shrugged. "You're the writer, you come up with a suitable backstory."

I shouldered up next to her and realized what she was looking at so intently. I never would have guessed this property overlooked some fields. We were on the north side of the town, so I shouldn't be surprised. The houses thinned out for the next several miles until there was nothing but farms. The sun was setting, spilling out red, orange, and violet rays over the field.

"Wow," I said.

She let out a sigh and closed her eyes. Her tense jaw relaxed and her raised shoulders settled. After a few minutes of silence, she asked, "What are you really doing here?"

"I saw you cross the road. I was curious."

"You know what they say about the curious cat, right?" "You gonna kill me?" I nudged her with my elbow. "Maybe." Her jaw twitched. "You've made my life a little...complicated."

"And...interesting?" I snagged her pinky finger with my forefinger and wiggled her hand.

She looked at our joined fingers. I was in her bubble, but she didn't sever the connection. For some reason that made me smile. The fact that she wasn't shying away from me made my heart rate pick up a beat.

"Judging by the stuff in here, you come here a lot."

She nodded, then slowly eased away from me and flopped onto the beanbag chair. "I found it a few years back and decided to claim it. Figured since it's the one place I can find peace and quiet I better furnish it so I'm comfortable."

"That's the Clover library for me. I was headed out of town to hit it up for some writing time." I tossed my backpack on the bed and then sat down on it. This place was awesome. And she'd done this by herself? I could totally picture her hanging out here, listening to music and tuning out the world.

We weren't much different, actually. She hid from people for reasons I was getting anxious to find out and I hid from people to write. I didn't get why she liked being alone. She was nice and funny, too. And she was just as pretty as any of the girls at Twin River.

"Why do you drive all of the way to Clover? Why not go to a library in Twin River? Aren't there like five?"

"I go there because nobody recognizes me."

"You know you're ridiculous, right? Hiding your writing?"

She wasn't wrong.

"You're not half bad."

"So you read it?" Sweet. We can finally talk about it. "No. I skimmed a couple chapters on break the other day. I—well, E, I mean, Ernie, has. I trust his opinion."

I sagged into the comforter even more. I thought maybe she'd read some and for a second there, I got a little excited at the idea of hanging with her, talking KOS, maybe learning more about her world. She was blunt, sarcastic, and a little standoffish, but I was starting to see glimpses of something else beneath her surly demeanor.

Someone I wanted to get to know better. But I wasn't super sure she wanted anything to do with anyone, other than Ernie.

"Maybe I'll just write here instead of the library." I glanced around. "Girl. You need a light in here."

"No electricity."

"Hopefully you don't come here at night, then." I grinned.

"I'm not scared." She gave me a coy smile.

Damn, that girl could do the littlest thing and it set me off. I cleared my throat and changed the subject. "Could I run some ideas by you, because that whole 'kill my darlings' thing...awesome."

"Yes. I am brilliant." The corner of her mouth curled up in a half smile, but there was a tenseness in her jaw again.

I caught her gaze. I could get lost for days in those emerald eyes. They fluctuated from bright green, like the shallow end of the ocean to dark green, like an emerald. Maybe they changed color with her moods.

Instead of staring back, she looked down at the floor.

"You okay?" I asked, easing onto the floor and scooting closer to her beanbag.

She opened an eye and looked at me, not saying anything. Her legs were sprawled out, her feet resting on the wooden floorboards, and her hands lay on her stomach while her head rested against the beanbag.

Twilight had fallen. The last remaining wisps of daylight spilled over McKenna's smooth skin and reflected off her piercings. The one on her lower lip caught my attention more than any of the others. I wondered what that would feel like against my lips.

The sudden urge to kiss her took me by surprise.

And I didn't hate the idea.

"I mean, you just look...a little upset. Not that you look bad or anything. You know...a little sad. Er, angry. It's hard to tell with you."

Shit. I could write, but I sure couldn't talk sometimes. "What's it to you if I'm mad or sad?" she asked.

Valid question. One I wasn't sure I had an answer for.

All I knew was that I was here and I wanted to hang with her. She was defensive and sarcastic, sure, but it was nice. She was nice. I mean, she'd stepped out of her comfort zone to help me by claiming to be WriteEmHard, but then gave me shit about it.

Risking another bubble breach, I reached out and snagged her hand. "Maybe I care."

Her focus shifted to my hand on hers, but I couldn't tell if it bugged her or not. She was so hard to read. But the fact she didn't pull away was encouraging.

"Only because I'm covering for you..."

"No. It's not." I shook my head. "You're frustrating. You know that?"

"It's part of my charm." She sat up more and let out a long sigh. "Look. I—this place—this is my place. I'm not used to anyone being up here."

"In your bubble."

"Exactly." She hit me full force with that green-eyed gaze and it felt like I'd been tackled, helmet first, by Hansen, our two-hundred-fifty-pound lineman.

"What's up with the bubble?" I'd wanted to ask her the first time she talked about it, but it finally felt like the right moment.

"It keeps people away."

Her response was blunt and it left a lot unexplained. "Why?"

She pressed her lips together. "The fewer people in your life, the less you get hurt."

Brutal honesty, another quality I admired about McKenna.

She arched an eyebrow. "Why are you hiding your writing?"

Nice deflection on her part, but if I wanted her to tell me things, maybe I had to tell her some of my junk, too.

"And don't give me that bullshit answer about the team making fun of you," she added.

"That's part of it." Remembering what Kyle and Joel had said the other day still made my stomach sink.

"But who cares what a few jocks say? You've got millions of fans proving them wrong." She looked into my eyes for a few seconds until I looked away. "So what's the other part?

Why do you keep your writing secret?"

"Nobody can know about KOS..." I let go of her hand because mine started to sweat at the thought of telling her this. What if she laughed? "Because the fact that I wrote it will get back to my parents."

"Not readers, I take it?" She sat up further, watching me, so I leaned against her beanbag and looked out the window. I didn't want to look at her while I told her this.

A soft glow lit the room; it was pretty awesome. "Hellooo?" she sang out.

"Let's just say my dad wouldn't be super stoked about how much I like writing and want to do it as a profession." "What's the big deal?"

"He's not all up in my face about it, but he lays not so subtle hints that he wants me to follow in his footsteps." I shrugged. "Sees my writing as more of a hobby, like football, that just takes away from time spent on what really matters. College applications, test scores, shit like that."

"So your dad's perfect family doesn't include a son who wants to do something artistic, huh?"

"Perfect family," I grumbled. Yeah, I did have a great family, but it wasn't perfect. Not by any stretch.

Her soft hand rested over my clenched fist and she slowly brushed her thumb over my skin. "Maybe we have something in common after all."

**********

Hey, Lovelies! 

What did you think of this chapter? What do you think is happening next? 

Kelly Anne & Lynn xoxo