Dark One: One for Sorrow... (The Khiara Banning Series Book 1) (5 page)

Five

We sit in silence for a while as the cab drives around town, trying to find Valour Street, building number 667. I giggle to myself, knowing what Cara would say if she were here with us,
“667, the neighbour of the beast!”

“What’s with the giggle?” asks Cael, who seems to be feeling a little better- I still feel dizzy, but I push it aside.

I reply honestly, “Cara. She’d say something silly about the apartment you live in; you know 667, the neighbour of the beast.”

He thinks about this for a second and then, “I guess it’s fitting,” he says almost inaudibly.

I shake this off as I’ve been able to do with his strangeness before, and the cab pulls to a stop in front of his house. It’s a large duplex, the first reading 665 and the one above, his, 667. I undo my seatbelt and get out of the car to go around to his side. Cael beats me to it, as he opens the door and walks out.

“You don’t have to,” he yawns loudly, “come in. It’s kind of a mess, and I’m sure you want to get home, too.”

I shake my head, “No. I want to make sure you get to bed; I don’t trust you. I’m sure you’ll go right to whatever instrument you play and play it all night or something equally as distracting.”

“How’d you know I play an instrument?” he asks as we walk up the steps to his door.

“Just a guess that I hoped I’d get right. You have musician’s hands”

He smiles, looks down at his hands and says, “Aye, you’re right.”

When he opens the door he looks over at me and gestures towards it dramatically. I don’t understand what he’s getting at.
Is he asking me to come in?
I bite my lip to keep myself from smiling.

“Well, since you’re here, you might as well come in…” he says awkwardly, covering up for the strange flailing arm display he just put on.

I walk in and to my surprise; it’s not a bit messy. “You said it was messy,” I say, laughing as I take in the crisp black furniture, the wood floor and the plasma screen TV.

He shakes his head, “It’s a mess. I’ve never had it this messy before! Don’t you see the clothes on the floor?” All I see is a pair of socks and a couple of shirts on the floor and one coffee mug on the table.

“Oh, so you’re like
that.
” I tease.

He shoots me a mock look of false hatred, which just makes me laugh even more. What is it with this guy that brings out such impulsiveness in me? I’m laughing like I’ve never laughed before in my life, or like I’ll never laugh again, and I just met him.

He leads me to his couch so I can sit down and “make yourself at home.” It’s funny how we’re acting as if we’ve known each other forever, while at the same time we can’t forget that we’ve just met.

Cael disappears in what I assume to be his bathroom and comes out a minute later wearing red tartan PJ bottoms and a white shirt.

“I’m dressed for bed.” He says to me as if I’ll kill him if he’s not, and I just might’ve if he weren’t ready for bed. He needs sleep if he’s sick and so do I.

“I’ll be going to bed now Miss Khiara Banning. Would you like to accompany me to my room to make sure I don’t somehow get distracted while lying in bed with my eyes closed, presumably snoring as soon as my head hits the pillow?” He announces.

I hop up, regretting it when my head pounds and slap him on the arm. “Yes.”

As I follow him into his room, I notice that there’s a poster of Beethoven on his door. I smile. I love classical music. When we get inside the room, he plops himself onto his bed and lets out a huge yawn while stretching his arms. I look around his room and gasp as I take everything in.

The walls are painted black. He’s got a violin, a piano and a guitar sitting in the corner farthest from his bed, a simple double, which is placed on the wall at the back of the room. The bed has an elaborate red and blue patchwork quilt that looks like it was sewn hundreds of years ago. The pillows are all the same colour as the quilt. Almost every inch of the wall where his headboard is has been covered with symbols and text in many different languages. I recognize a few but don’t know enough to know what the words mean.

“Cael, this is beautiful!” I exclaim.

He just shivers and yawns in response. I almost forgot that he wasn’t feeling well; I should get him into bed. I pull the covers back and help him in. I feel his forehead and note that he’s got a bit of a temperature. I feel pretty much the same, but he seems to have worsened.

“Take your shirt off.” I say, “It’ll help with the fever. I’m sure you’re only wearing it because I’m here anyway.”

He obeys.

“You’re wearing boxers, right?” I ask him.

Cael nods, rolls his eyes and takes off his pants, sensing what I was about to say. “It’s better to sleep light if you have a fever,” I explain.

I help him under the covers and pull them over his shivering body. I turn on the fan that’s on his bedside table, feel his forehead again and sigh. He’s burning up. Fleetingly I wonder if I am as well, but that can wait.

“Your room is really something. The wall, right there,” I point to the text and symbols, “what is all of that?”

He smiles as his eyes droop, “It’s what I get to take with me. I’ve traveled to many places and I always learn some of the language of the land. I guess you want to know what it all means?” I nod my head. “It’s all the same sentence. It says, ‘I will never regret.’ I’ve yet to write it in English for some reason, which is kind of funny considering.” I smile as I notice it written in French, my dad’s native tongue, just over the headboard on the left side.

I think about it. 
I will never regret.
What does he mean, he’ll never regret? What will he never regret? I find myself asking him out loud and am met with another yawn. I shouldn’t bug him too much, he’s pretty sick, and we hardly know each other. I think we’ve gotten to know each other pretty well though, in the last couple of hours. It’s been so natural. I mean, hell, I just put the guy to bed like I’d do for
Cara.

Awkwardly, I brush some hair that’s fallen over his eyes, “I’ll be going now. Feel better Cael, and hopefully this isn’t goodbye. You seem like a cool guy.”

He’s already passed out and snoring lightly. I smile and grab a paper pad and pen from his bedside table to write my number so he can call me, if ever he wants to hang out for real. I decide to write a note:

Cael, thanks for being so cool about everything. You’re really something; you’re very different from anybody I’ve ever met. I like that. I hope you feel better, so here’s my number if you ever want to give me a call, no pressure or anything, but I mean, I’ve seen you in your underwear and have had a pretty good laugh with you, so I feel like we could be friends. I mean, here I am, standing in your apartment while you’re sleeping…I should probably go. Wow, I’m somehow rambling even though I’m writing this on paper…I do that when I get nervous. Not that I am. It’s 467-9002.

Khiara Banning.

P.S I totally think the punch was spiked with something.

I place the note on the drawer, smile at his sleeping form and begin to walk towards the door until he says quietly, “God, I am so sorry. Just know that you’re not alone okay? Just because it is said, doesn’t make it so. I won’t let it. I‘ll never let it.”           
 

I sigh and smile.
He’s dreaming
. “Good night Cael.”

I walk out of his room and then out of his house, down the stairs and out into the night, which luckily is lit by the streetlights. I pick up my phone, sighing, and call Cara who has left me tons of text messages and a couple of missed calls.

“It’s like you’re going through the end stages of Alzheimer’s. I drove that guy Cael home and now I’m going home myself I’m pretty sure both our drinks were spiked and it made us feel really sick, he had a fever and I think I probably do too. I have to walk home mind you, but God don’t you remember what I tell you?” I say into the phone, annoyed.

Cara sniffles and I wonder what could be wrong. “I know! But I need you to come here right noooow! Damien’s outta control and Victoria and him have been fighting, like, major bad! I don’t know what’s happening Khiara, but I don’t like it! They keep mentioning you and I think she’s jealous of you or something, but I don’t really know, I can’t make out what they’re saying because of all the people here. My tummy really hurts and my house is a mess because they smashed so much in their fight! Please come! I will never force you to come to a party ever again, and I’ll make sure you’re okay with the spiked drink situation, check your pupils and stuff….”

I sigh again, “Alright, I’ll be there in…fifteen minutes.”

She moans and I hear yelling in the background. “What? But baaaaaaaabe, I need you here noooow! Can I get somebody to pick you up? I don’t wanna make you bus it here!”

The very small amount of busses we have in Serene Falls stopped running an hour ago. I tell her as much. “Oh! I’ll call a cab m’kay? Where are you? This whole town is an hour long drive from the beginning to the end, so you can’t be far.” She hiccups or possibly wretches, to accentuate her sentence.

By the time the cab comes I’m exhausted and only slightly entertained that it’s the same cab driver as before- we only have a few cab drivers in Serene Falls, so it was a one in four possibility; fun fact, the taxi station and the police station share the same building, that’s how small this stupid town is.

I am not looking forward to going back to the party, but when I get to Cara’s place, it seems as though everybody has left.
Thanks Vicky and Damien, for having a turbulent relationship.

“Thank God you’re here! Help me clean up Kiki, oh please. I need it. You can take my car home afterward, I swear!” Cara pleads.

So, I help her with all of the smashed vases, a broken bust of her great grandfather, food strewn everywhere, dirty glasses and more. Cara hands me her car keys and plops onto the sofa in her huge bedroom.

“I don’t know why you just don’t stay here. What is it with you and sleepovers anyway? You never liked them, even as a kid.” She says lazily chewing a piece of gum and braiding her cat Missus Pussy Pants’ fur. I feel sorry for her cat, the poor thing is treated like a doll, and it’s named Missus Pussy Pants (all capitals), which I know if that were my name, I’d want to die.

Also, Missus Pussy Pants is a guy.

“Night Cara, see you on Sunday.” I say as I get up from her couch, startling the poor cat.

“Yeah, good night Kiki, you’re the best. I mean it. Now get over here Missus Pussy Pants, I’m almost done!” The cat voices his discontent, but Cara ignores it.

I walk out the door and close it just after the cat runs out the room.

“Missus Pussy Pants you bitch!”
Slurs Cara.

I decided to take her bike instead of her car, since I’m not so sure what happened in the car while I was at Cael’s, but when I opened the door it smelled like sex and vomit, so I’m pretty sure Cara lent her car to people as a spare room.

When I get home, I’m so tired I can hardly stand. I almost don’t even notice my parents’ cars in the driveway, as I head towards the garage.

“I’m home!” I yell as I walk in.

“In here, Honey!” yells Dad from the living room. I guess Mom’s still out. My father has dark grey hair and big green eyes, and my mother is of Native-American descent, but she was adopted and doesn’t know her actual tribal background, though she’s always had a suspicion that it’s Cree.