Celestial Sisters

Chapter 7: No Place Like Home

Damien Clark sat on the back of his friend, Mark's, pickup truck. The plan was to pick a few snacks at Jimmy's, the local convenience store, and meet Coco and some her friends back at her place. It was an average day for the two and Damien, though he couldn't stand hearing Coco rant about the golden girl- Luna Goodwin- was feeling the urge to blow off some steam. Coco wasn't good for much but she did have a special knack for blowing off his steam. Girls like Coco were simple. Not easy but simple; Coco always made him work for whatever he wanted from her despite whether or not it was worth it. But she wasn't hard to figure out, she was the kind of girl that just wanted to be coddled and complimented every once in awhile, despite the permanent scowl on etched onto her face and confrontational posture. It was something most people wanted, including Damien.

Looking up at the swirling grey sky, Damien released a low groan and rubbed the back of his neck. Despite the rumors that circled around them, Damien and Coco didn't actually like each other. They understood each other and didn't mind using one another to their advantage but there was nothing about Coco that made Damien feel remotely warm inside. He didn't know much about liking anyone in particular but he assumed when he did, that person would be able to remove the cold, hollow feeling that resided in his chest. He wouldn't merely tolerate that person's presence but crave it. Surely, it would be a different experience but Damien liked different. With his ink covered arms, pierced flesh and criminal record, Damien was the most different kid in all of cookie cutter New Brooks.

The monstrous roar of a motorbike drew Damien out of his musings. Glancing over at the end of the lot, he surprised to see a Harley Davidson Low Rider pulling next to the gas pump across from him. He was even more surprised to see the girl who dared to ride a beast like that. She definitely wasn't from New Brooks, Damien would have remembered her if so. Her statuesque body was decked out in leather from her jacket to her steeled toe combat boots, windswept ebony locks and a pair of aviators concealed her face but that only piqued his interest. Swinging her legs off of the bike, the girl's boots hit the gravel with a loud thud. There was an angered tension hiding in her jerky movements as she stumbled over to the pump.

A strange feeling twisted in his gut upon seeing her. He knew he should have left her alone- she was probably just some passerby looking for danger- and yet, even with that in mind, he couldn't stop himself from jumping down from the truck and making his way towards the girl. She was too immersed her own thoughts to even notice Damien until he cleared his throat. A small jolt of surprise went through her, causing her to take a step back before she managed to school her features. Up close, Damien was able to see her own more vivid detail. For being a complete stranger there was an odd familiarity that clung to her sharp features.

"You must be new," Damien held out his hand, "I'm Damien. Damien Clark."

The girl's black painted lips twisted in a scowl. Though he couldn't see her eyes, he could feel the weight of her stare as she glanced from his hand back to his face. After she refused to release her grip on the pump, Damien's hand returned to its side.

"Uh, listen," he tried again, "I don't know how long you'll be here-"

"Not long," the girl interrupted him. Her voice was raspy but in unnatural way, as if she had just finished crying.

"Well, in the meantime, if you want to meet a few people, I could introduce you."

The girl's scowl only deepened, "I doubt there's anyone in this town that I haven't already met. I used to live here."

That news came as a great shock to Damien. He was sure that he had never met her before or even heard of a girl that looked like her. She would have been the topic of many conversations if so.