When The Full Moon Rises

Chapter 4

Before my brain really caught up to my actions, I instinctively hurled myself to the floor, preparing to take cover just in case whoever was out there was a terrorist and was throwing a bomb into my room. I may have been acting like a total idiot--with an imagination that was too far gone, I might add--but, hey, you gotta look at things from every perspective, right?

I buried my face into the soft plush carpet, waiting for the sound of shattered glass, but nothing happened. Except a soft little plink, plink that sounded every other second. I was confused. Beyond confused. What the heck just happened. But instead of laying there like a moron wondering what could have possibly happened, I stood up slowly, wanting to get a look for myself.

It was still kind of dark outside, but it was getting lighter. It wasn't exactly sunny, because the clouds were all clumped in the east where the sun would come up, but I could still see the outlines of the trees, the houses, the lone car passing every now and then. I could hear a dog barking from several blocks away, I could hear the wind echoing through the neighborhood. It was peaceful, as peaceful as this place ever gets.

But my mind snapped away from the thoughts of serenity that I felt and focused on the figure still standing in my yard, throwing something so small it seemed invisible until it hit the window. I watched the person for a minute, trying to see what they were throwing. I was finally able to make out the object. Just a pebble, no bigger than a dime. Well, I guess my terrorist-bomb theory wasn't exactly fitting the bill.

Soon I got bored of watching the figure throw rocks, so I focused more on the person instead. It was hard to tell if it was a boy or girl in the low light. But if I squinted real hard, tilted my head to one side and looked closely, I could barely make out shaggy black-brown hair, no boobs, and hard muscular arms under the sleeves of a nice black button-up shirt. Well, I guess it had to be a boy.

And the thought of a boy standing outside my window throwing rocks was just the thing to throw me over the edge. I was already mad with sleep deprivation. I had practically worked all day, pulling my hair out by the roots watching those little rug-rats Mrs. Jameson calls kids. And somehow, I had actually forgotten what it was like to be a teenager. I mean, I haven't been on the Internet all week. No phone calls, no dates, no movie nights with Jamie and Cassidy. What was the world coming too?

But like I said, I was beyond the eternity of being irritated and annoyed. At this point, whoever was out there--and I had a pretty good idea who--could just get the hell away from my property or I was going down there to make them myself. And I may be a nice person and all, but weird, stalker people that throw rocks at my window don't exactly warm to me.

I thrust my window open and squinted at the person outside. Whoever it was stopped in the process of picking up another pebble, and sat up to look at me. And as the headlights of a passing car illuminated their face, I gasped in shock.

"Sebastian?!" I gaped, recognition slamming home. How was this happening? How was Sebastian standing there in my yard? How did he know where I lived? Why did he come? How did he get there?

All of these questions swarmed around in my head, making me want to bang my head into the wall, or, at the very least, throw my fist into Sebastian's face.

"It's lovely to make your acquaintance," he smirked, putting on his best teasing face. But I wasn't in the mood for teasing. Not at all. And if Sebastian knew what was best for him, he wouldn't push me far.

"What the hell are you doing here?! I practically hissed/shouted at him. I couldn't scream at him the way I would have liked. It was roughly about five a.m right now. So my entire family was still asleep.

"Well, isn't that a kind tone you're using," he said, smiling. He somehow believed that he was getting the better of me, that this was all a game and that he was winning.

"I'm not playing games, Sebastian. Now tell me what the hell you're doing at my house."

"Well, not to be a party-pooper, but it would be easier to talk to you on the ground."

I snorted sourly. "What is this, some kind of twisted version of Rapunzel?"

He rolled his eyes. "Yes, like I'm dying to be your prince. Just come down, would you?"

I huffed and stomped away angrily towards my door, lightening my footsteps to a tiptoe as I walked past my family's rooms. This could not be happening. This couldn't real. In what modern day society would a stranger stand in someone's front yard and demand them to come outside to talk at five a.m? Surely not in any lifetime before this. But it was happening now.

I opened the front door as quietly as I could manage. But that stupid squeaky hinge wouldn't give me a break tonight. It made a shrill, cover-your-ears noise that reminded me of scary movies. I prayed with all my might that the noise hadn't alerted Sammy, our St. Bernard. He was one big boy. Wasn't much of a guard dog, but he sure knew how to bark. If a squirrel came up on the windowsill, Sammy would go into a panic attack.

But after listening to the quiet house for a few more seconds, I decided it was safe. I slipped on a pair of flipflops and walked outside to the warm humid world that was my own personal hell right now.

Sebastian was still standing there looking like he enjoyed my annoyance. It would surprise me if it did. I stopped a few feet away, glowering at him. His eyes appraised me, taking in my pajamas and drooping eyelids.

"Nice," he said, his lips in a hard line.

"What do you want?" I asked, getting to the point.

He waited, seeming to think about his words. "I'm here to take you up on your offer," he said.

I blinked. "What offer?" I asked warily. Where was this coming from?

"Oh, could you forget so easily? I believe it started with you getting on your bike, turning and saying, "You comin' or what"," he said in a cheap imitation of my voice. I scowled. I still wasn't getting it. He rolled his eyes again at my ignorance.

"Seeming as I can't remember a damn thing about what happened tonight, or before it, I think it quite obvious for you to be responsible for me. You see, I need a place to stay, you know? I can't just go around sleeping under a bush all my life, and since you kindly offered......" he trailed off, daring me to interrupt. And I did.

"What the hell are you talking about? I never offered you anything. I was going to take you to the police station or something, so you could locate your family. So this 'you offered' is a load of bull crap," I said vehemently.

"Just what exactly are you suggesting?" I snarled. I was so not in the mood for this.

"Well, now that you ask, you seem to have a nice big house, plenty of room. And I need a place to stay. You need a road map?"

I stopped. My mind slowly processed each word as they clicked into place. Was he suggesting........?

"You want to stay in my house?!"