Chapter twelve - Hidden Heroism

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Wind starts picking up speed once more, perfectly noticeable. The sky predicts nothing but terror and the weatherman didn't sound hopeful either. Oh, help.

The first lightning strikes as I hear the sound of howling trees dangerously close to my window.

Don't think about it Loren, ignore it. It'll go away, just ignore it.

I focus on the light, the light of the street that would soon be replaced by the sun. It'll all be over soon.

Or so I hope.

Inner Loren don't be so negative!

I desperately need distraction, the kind of distraction even Zac Efron can't give me.

Facebook has been surprisingly uninteresting all day and even Tumblr doesn't seem that appealing anymore.

Thank god we still have crisps.

I shove a handful into my mouth and pick up my phone. "Great," I mumble when I realized I had made it all sticky.

My annoyance is soon replaced by fear again when the thunder seems to be coming closer and closer with every breath I take.

I'm home alone, until Geoffrey will come home, that is. Speaking of the devil, I think I hear the familiar sound of his motorcycle.

You can call me a no-lifer all you want, but I can easily make out who was arriving at our house by now, just by their motorcycle.

I have forced myself to listen to the sounds more attentively since the incident a few weeks back.

Someone rang the door, I had just gotten out of bed but I assumed it would be either Wesley, Chester or Dwayne.

But when I opened it, I surely regretted that decision.

My figure got overwhelmed by the darkness, caused by the shadow of the broad shouldered, nose pierced and tattoo covered guy in front of me.

To say I was scared would be a huge understatement. Before I could even close my open fallen mouth, the guy had already made his way into my house.

"Uhm excuse me," I said, tapping on his shoulder.

He turned around, making me regret ever touching him, heck even looking him in the eyes. People have written horror movies about those eyes only.

"Would-uh would y-you," he groaned at my stuttering.

"What's your problem, nerd?" I gasped at the sharpness of his voice that cut my vocal cords into shreds. I took in his comment and looked down at my batman pajamas.

I'm not a nerd!

"Well?" the dude snapped while grabbing ahold of both of my shoulders. "I asked you something." He raised his scarred eyebrow. "Answer me!"

"I-I,"

"Loren?" I heard a voice say from behind me call and released a breath of relieve when I saw Geoffrey running down the stairs. "How the hell did you get in?" he hissed at the bloke who was still cutting off my blood circulation.

"This lovely lady let me in." He made a gesture towards me.

"Get away from her." Surprised by his words, I looked up at him to see whether it was in fact him who was trying to protect me.

Oh god the bastard was shirtless.

It became even hotter in the room and I don't know if it was the situation or it were the guy's nakedness that made sweat appear on my skin, but either way it seemed to turn out in my favor, since the tattoo guy let go of me immediately.

"Listen dude." The guy turned towards Geoffrey. "This is my last warning. You stay the hell from my sister!" he yelled as he threw his fist in the direction of Geoffrey's pretty face.

Wait, what?

Guys were throwing punches right in front of me and all I could think about is Geoffrey's face?

Oh god, stupid hormones.

"She came to me man," Geoffrey defended. "And by the way, she keeps moaning my name, I don't think she has a problem with it." He grinned, earning another (deserved) punch.

"You son of a bitch!" Tattoo-guy gave him the first successful punch.

"Stay away from her," he warned Geoffrey one last time before stepping away, leaving Geoffrey there with a bleeding lip.

I took a step forward, deciding to help him get cleaned up.

"I thought I told you never to open the door if you don't know who it is."

So far for helping him out!

I still get goosebumps all over my body when I think about the guy and what might have happened if Geoffrey wasn't there.

A shiver runs down my spine at the thought and it strengthens itself by the thunder that follows.

"I am going to kill the bitch!" a very familiar voice yells after I dialed a very familiar number.

"Who?" I ask, no longer feeling like fainting out of fear.

"Nathalie, that bitch told Wesley he had to stay away from me."

Nathalie's one of the cheerleaders, close friend of Latoya and almost half as mean as her.

"So?"

"She's friends with Wes, remember?"

"Okay Lanes, here's what you are going to do, you either suck it up and forget the guy." I could tell by her silence that that answer doesn't appeal her. "Or you admit you like the guy and I'll help you make up a plan to kill Nathalie."

A sigh follows. "I don't know okay? I might-"

Huge lightening interrupts her speaking. Tuut tuut tuut.

And suddenly everything went black, no more lights, only beeping. "Lana?" I start to panick. "No no no no no," I repeat to myself, dialing the number I've known by heart for ages again. "Pick up, pick up." It doesn't work though, the device was gone and so was every other form of electricity.

The lightening...

Oh god, the storm has laid the city blank!

I bite my nails in frustration. Not the dark!

I have never been a fan of the dark. That dislike only became stronger every time I met one of Geoffrey's dark and dangerous friends. On top of that, Lana came over this evening and thought it'd be a good idea to watch a horror movie.

Imagine how we jumped when the pizza-delivery guy had noted the wrong address, causing him to end up at our house.

Stupid Lana, thanks to her I am now going to die!

A sickening feeling builds itself up inside of me as the storm becomes only more petrifying.

My phone still has a 20% of the battery but it doesn't allow me to play games until the storm has ceased.

Damn it!

After ten minutes of acting like a strong mature woman in the dark, I feel the unsafety engulfing me and the vision of tattoo guy keeps on appearing in my mind.

To hell with my pride! I decide as I step off my bed, racing away from it, just in case a monster might be under it. I tip-toe through the hall, stopping in front of the portal to hell.

I knock and wait. Call his name and wait. And then enter only to be greeted by the lightening and a deafening scream, causing me to scream along and my eyes fill themselves with liquid fear.

Even though his scream stops, mine doesn't until he shoots closer and puts his hand over my mouth.

"Jezus, Loren, you scared me. " His breathing is heavy, but not half as heavy as mine. "What do you want?" A small smile playing on his face.

"Ge-Geoffrey please, tomorrow you can laugh at me all you want but the electricity went off and it's dark and it's storming and..."

"And?"

"And I am scared," I admit, avoiding eye contact.

That seems to be the thing he needs to hear since he nods towards his bed. "You can stay here."

And then out of nowhere, I start to cry.

"Hey, hey what's wrong?" He places one hand on my shoulder with the most caution as if I had some skin disease.

"I don't know," I answer truthfully. "It's just the stress, I think."

"I think it's because you're horrified." You could just hear him smiling through his voice.

"I'm not horrified, just a little scared." I wipe my face clean, being thankful I didn't put any make up on.

"It's kind of funny, really."

"What is?" I lift my gaze up at him. His face seemed unreadable.

"That you're a hypocrite." I shoot him a questioning look. "You told me earlier that I shouldn't be embarrassed about sucking at math, when you won't even admit half how scared you are." He stares at me with those deep eyes. They are dark and, just like his voice, they hide a hint of pain.

"What happened today?"

"Nothing," he replies bluntly, dropping his hand from my shoulder and heading over to his bed.

"Nothing or I don't want to talk about it- nothing?"

"Nothing," he repeats, quikcly correcting himself when he sees me lifting my eyebrow, "I don't want to talk about it, okay?" I nod in reply.

He adjusts his pillow behind his back while I am still standing on my feet, gaze fixated on the ground, playing a bit with the fabric of his sheets.

I have never shared a bed with anyone before, except for Lana and my parents. I don't even know if I was allowed to sleep in it or he meant that I could sleep on the floor.

The doubt quickly vanishes when another thunder comes to life, echoing through the room.

I jump in the bed, tugging the sheet against my body as I feel him shove closer, lifting my head up above it.

"It's okay, shh," he soothes. I am crying. Again. I hadn't even noticed, actually.

"How can you not be scared?" I ask through my rapid breathing.

"I've been in more dreadful situations," he admits and I couldn't help but agree.

Tattoo-guy was only one example, but he has come home various times after a fight, hell even in a police car.

Once I even demanded him to go to a hospital because of his injuries. He didn't even consider it and said that he'd just take some painkillers and it'd all be over the next day.

"You're braver than you think, you know that?" he says, shoving a bit to go lie on his back. I do the same, not letting go of the sheets of course.

"What do you mean?"

"The way you stopped me from hitting my dad." He turns to look at me. "I didn't expect that."

"Neither did I."

"Why haven't you asked yet?" he asks, suddenly sounding serious.

"Asked what?"

"Why I hit him?"

"I know you'll tell me if you trust me enough, or when you want to talk about it."

"Normally I hate people being nosy but now I think it's weird, like you're not interested at all." I shuffle a bit next to him.

"That's certainly not true, I'm curious as hell but I respect your privacy and your choices. It's perfectly normal, you don't know want to tell me, it's not like we're friends or something." He was about to react when hailstones start attacking our house, creating the sound of millions of meteorites attacking earth.

It makes me squeal and, unintendedly, grab his hand. He doesn't pull away, against my expectations.

"It's not like I don't want to tell you it's just... I can't okay? I can't tell you." I nod.

"So it's a secret?"

"No." He lets out a frustrated sigh. "See, you don't get it."

"You can always try." A silence follows, one in which I become aware of the fact that I am still holding onto his hand.

Thunder strikes again and I might have felt it wrong but I think, I think he squeezed it. Like the comforting, the soothing squeeze. The one that tells you "I'm here and I'm not leaving". And maybe he needs to know that too.

Maybe he needs to know that I am there for him right now. Even if we won't say a single word to each other tomorrow.

I take a silent breath before squeezing his hand as well, hoping he'd receive it the same way I did.

A few seconds pass and at first I thought he didn't feel it, but then he opens his mouth.

"Do you like water?" Not the thing I was expecting to hear.

"Uh, no thanks, I'm not thirsty."

He shakes his head. "I meant like a pool or a river, something to swim in."

"I don't know, in the summer it's nice I guess."

"Do you want to know a secret?"

"Sure."

"I can't swim," he said.

"You can't?"

"Nope, I mean, I once could but I haven't swum since I was ten."

"Ow." Is all that comes out.

"Yeah," he muses then sighs. "And we're back to square one."

The lightening has decreased in frequency and the clouds moved, starting to reveal a bright moon. Even if I'm already way more relaxed than before, I still don't want to let go of his hand.

"What do you mean?"

"The swimming part was supposed to be an introduction to my story."

"Geoffrey, stop this okay? I don't even want to know right now, don't force yourself into telling me. You either tell it naturally or not at all."

Silence returns, but there's no way in hell I'd let this get awkward again. "You know what you should do?" His gaze shifts over to me. "You should start playing football again."

"I should?" he asks, suppressing a smile.

"Absolutely! You obviously love doing so."

"I did." The smile growing wider as his eyes start to shine, lighting up the whole room.

"You should smile more often," I blurt out.

"I should?" he repeated.

"You're so beautiful when you smile," I whisper, surprised by my own daring, or rather stupidity.

As the silence falls into the room, so does the moonlight. It traces a breathtaking strap of light over him, enlightening one side of his face, leaving the other half in the dark.

The sight perfectly represents his whole existence.

Half-dark, half-light.

The smile I have been fascinatedly staring at slowly faded, but it only strengthens the longing feeling inside of me.

My eyes now focused on his, which are sparkling like never before. I let my eyes wander to our intertwined hands. It didn't take more than a second for his free hand to find my chin, lifting it up carefully until our eyes met again.

And then everything explodes.

Was it because of how he looks at me or the way his thumb is rocking circles on my hand? God might know, but the volcano inside of me has already spit its lava into all of my veins, reaching every part of my body. His hand slowly leaves my face but his eyes never did.

Not until the lightening decided to ruin it all.