Frozen Mate (boyxboy)

Chapter 4

By the time I reach home, the lights are all off in the house, save for the dim lamp in the living room casting a glow through the lavender curtains. I pace up the pavement, scrunching my toes in my damp socks to keep the nerves from succumbing to the numbing and bitter cold. The slush accumulates on my shoes and for the three hundredth time today I thoroughly regret not wearing snow boots like I was advised to.

The door is unlocked, and I slip through quietly, as to not wake my sister. Shedding the damp and freezing layers, I waltz into the living room where my parents are snuggled up on the couch watching a feature film on the beat up TV my grandpa gave us when he upgraded to a flat screen. He lives a more lavish lifestyle than us.

"How did it go, honey?" My mother asks.

"Fine," I reply, masking my distress and feeling abnormally self-conscious. "He penciled me in to work this weekend."

I consider that the Baker could've scheduled my shifts based on his son's dictations, in order to make conflict with my date with Christine. Am I interested in the girl? Perhaps, and perhaps not. But I don't intend on letting a psychotic football player make the decision for me.

"That's great," my dad beams. "We're so proud of you."

"Thanks," I mumble unenthusiastically. "Does anyone want cake?" I ask, withdrawing the boxed up catastrophe.

"No thanks, Sweetie" My mom answers, her attention returning to the movie. "Why don't you put it in the fridge, I'm sure your sister will want a piece tomorrow."

I laugh softly, picturing her exuberance when she sees I have cake tomorrow morning. I store the pastry in the fridge, repositioning some of the contents within the refrigerator in order to make appropriate space.

The kitchen is dark, lit only by the pale moonlight streaming through the dense woods. There's a disturbance in the darkness, a shudder in the underbrush. I deduce it must be a lost dog, wandering out in the night, its owner mid-search in the cold darkness. I wrap myself in a blanket, slip on snow boots, and slide outside through the backdoor onto the icy patio.

The temperature has dropped considerably outside since the sun set, casting a chill that penetrates to the bone. I pull the warming material tightly, attempting to contain my body heat. The fine stitches on the linen rub the wound on my neck and I hunch over, winded by the responsiveness. The bite imprinted deeply on my skin, leaving a mark that will prove difficult to hide from my family. There's no reasonable explanation as to why the Baker's son bit my neck. None that my parents would believe, at least.

My thoughts drift back to Vince, as they often have ever since our first confrontation, and for the millionth time I fail in psychoanalyzing the erratic behavior of the boy. The alterations in his attitude are just baffling, leaving me confused as to whether he likes me or loathes me. And to make things impossibly worse, his friends and family react to his impulsiveness as if it's status quo.

I wish I could expel my desire for the boy, the deep affection I feel every time I think of him, the raging hormones that excite my body at the mere thought of his. I don't recall a time I've ever been so infatuated with another person, to the point where I have to constantly occupy my mind as to not think about him infinitely. It's as if every fiber of my being is attracted to every ounce of his. He's my guilty obsession.

Snap!

I flinch, slipping on the mushy surface and nearly face planting in a pile of snow. Recovering slowly, I scan the dark woods, investigating the source of the disturbance, but I see none. I tread lightly in the snow, peering around the thick base of a towering tree, like a frightened child behind the leg of his mother, and that is when I see it.