Mark of the Moon

Chapter 11 - Its a Secret

Chapter 11: Its a Secret

  "I'll be fine," I stressed, my hand on the door-handle of the car, gripping it tightly, almost wishing that I didn't have to get back to my own house. It was dark outside my home, the windows bleak and un-alive as it had been empty for close to two whole days now, only the light from the car headlights illuminated the path to the front door. Glancing at Tristan I had that strange sensation of when I was on my first date, he had squeezed my hand with warm eyes, while driving me up practically to the door. Now looking at Tristan's face, in the blue glow of the dashboard as the car hummed quietly beneath us, it was different. He wasn't Kyle. 

  But for some reason this felt like my first date all over again, I was nervous around him to the core. The hand of mine that wasn't clutching the door was hovering on the edge of my seat, asking to grasp onto his. But he stood there motionless, both of his hands on the steering wheel, staring ahead at the house, the music that I couldn't place again playing softly in the speakers. "I have to get back to school tomorrow anyway," I sighed, and he finally turned around to me briefly. His eyes were blue in the car light; making it look like a flickering flame was alit in his soul.

  "I guess I'll be seeing you then," he said, stiffly, the previous slight concern from when he asked if I didn't want to just stay at their house another night, vanished. I nodded and pushed the door open the warm air in the car whooshing out and I was soon surrounded by the chill of the night.

  I stepped through the two pools of light provided by the headlights of the car, in front of the garage and up the steps to the porch. Giving a look back once I was safe under the overhead of the porch, I could only see the glare from the light, there was no hope to be able to see into the darkened car. Heaving a sigh, I reached down to the arm rest on the porch swing, pulling away the spare key that we kept in case of emergencies. Quickly I fumbled with the key into the door and stepped inside, shutting it behind me, cutting off the cold wind with it. The window by the door dimmed as Tristan pulled away, satisfied that I had made it into the house.

  The house echoed with each step I took in my sneakers, and feeling uncomfortable in the now empty home, I flicked on light after light. Familiar carpet and the living room set-up were suddenly lit by the overhanging lights that hung from the cathedral like ceiling. The fireplace was in the corner of the room, opposite of the television, the couch soft and cushioned before the two of them. The clock loomed above the fireplace, announcing boldly that it was past nine at night.

  It was obvious that someone hadn't been in the house in awhile, the wood floors were cold as I stepped on them, and the air hung with a dead like atmosphere. My sighs just seemed to be increasing in number I realized as I walked into the depths of the living room, kneeling before the marble fireplace. A pile of firewood hung in an iron cradle, and I plucked a few choice pieces to place precariously in a pile centered in the fireplace. Lighting a match I started a fire to the kindling, only having to wait for nature to take its course and the heat from the flames to warm the room.

  My stomach grumbled loudly as I remembered I hadn't eaten something since lunch, at the Fletcher's; a sandwich and some more lemonade as we watched the boys haul I the lodes of wood. They had gotten over their differences and seemed as if they were on equal terms again. A smile flickered on my face as I realized at least their friendship, whatever it might be, wasn't severed by my presence in the pack. I hopped up as the orange was just peeking out from the pieces of wood, walking to the cramped kitchen. I always kept the house clean, because I never knew when I would randomly skip the night to spend it with Quinn at her house. Also I didn't enjoy the filth several sets of dirty dishes provided in the sinks.