The air pressed in on Skye, a subtle invasion of personal space that made her stomach dance the cha-cha. Her night vision strained, uselessly searching for a watching set of eyes. Her pace quickened. When at last she reached her upstairs garage apartment, Skye glanced behind; double-checking to be certain she was alone before unlocking the door. Again, she scanned the darkness and saw no movement, heard no unnatural noise. Nothing out there. Inside, she locked the door and flipped on light switches.
Her jitters vanished with the domestic haven of familiarity. She loved her little space. Here, she could be anybody she wanted to be, could stay up until three o’clock a.m. if she chose to, making crystal charm jewelry or watching old movies. There were no frigid eyes of distaste or disappointment haunting her every move. She could flop at spell incantations, eat ice cream for dinner, and hang a poster-sized spreadsheet of daily, weekly and monthly goals without fear of ridicule. Sure, Michael had been over to her new place and shook his head at the spreadsheet. “You’re so OCD,” he’d laughed. But it was a teasing laugh, not mocking or biting in any way. Thank the goddess for a cool brother to offset her mother’s negativity and her dad’s neglect.
Skye lit the salt lamp, a discounted gift to herself from The Green Fairy, which gave off a tangerine glow. She put some drops of patchouli oil in a diffuser and kicked back with a Diet Coke. The cell phone rang and she grinned at seeing Tanner’s number on the screen.
Pretend everything’s hunky-dory. Like last night never happened. “Hey big shot, how many touchdowns did you score?”
“Caught a pass and ran for sixty yards. What? Don’t tell me you missed my debut performance.”
His voice sent warm vanilla sparkles down her spine – which reminded her. Her back hurt again. Skye reached in her purse and popped a couple of aspirin to ease the nagging backache. “You tellin’ me the truth? Cause I Tivoed the game.”
“A slight exaggeration,” he admitted. Skye pictured his easy smile. “Okay, since you’ve got it all on tape anyway, a total lie. Still my biggest cheerleader?”
“Always.” She strove to match his own tone – light and airy, instead of husky with longing and hidden meanings. “Did Michael get any playing time?”
“Yeah, a single substitution, which is more than the coach gave me. We’ve got to make sure your brother doesn’t get the big head.”
They both laughed. Seriously, Michael was the nicest guy in the world. No danger of him turning into a prima donna. The buzz of people talking in the background grew louder. “You must be calling from the locker room.”
“Just outside it. A group of us are heading to Dreamland Barbeque. Wanna tag along?”
She was about to accept when a female voice squealed his name. “Depends on who all is going.”
“Michael, me, some other bench-warming freshmen, and our adoring entourage of female fans.”
The last time she ‘tagged along’ had not been a success. She was the one benched on the sidelines watching the action while Tanner and Michael shone with the chicks. A repeat of high school.
“I’m staying in tonight. Get caught up on schoolwork. I’ve been working so many hours I’ve fallen behind.”
“Not keeping up with your spreadsheet under the homework column?” He made a tsking noise. “The shame.”
“We can’t all have those special classes for jocks. Why don’t you and Michael come over for brunch tomorrow? Just call an hour or so before you leave the dorm so I’ll have it ready. Consider this my school pep spirit in supporting the country’s number one football team.”
A high-pitched giggle erupted close his phone. She did not want to imagine how close.
“Gotta go, I’ll call you tomorrow,” Tanner said quickly.
Click. Skye laid the phone on the coffee table. “This sucks –” her voice trailed off and her throat burned imagining Tanner casually giving another girl the kisses and attention she craved from him. Best to keep busy tonight. She looked over her spreadsheet before grabbing a couple of textbooks and pen and paper. If she couldn’t be happy-in-love, she could at least be productive. One day, when she was married to Tanner and had a career as a much sought-after jewelry designer, she would look back on these lonely nights and recall only that they shaped her into the strong, successful person she’d become.
Yeah, right.
Skye dumped what was left of her watered down Diet Coke into the scraggly philodendron. The few leaves left on it were either brown or yellow, probably a slow death from soda poisoning. This dose might put it out of its misery.
As she did most nights, she put Night Castle by the Trans-Siberian Orchestra in her CD player for background music, and settled in for a marathon study session.
***
Kheelan had followed the girl back to her apartment again, but stayed only a few minutes this time. One block from her apartment, he removed a small glass vial from his duster pocket. Much as he hated opening his eyes to the fairies, he had to do it to watch for possible clues in solving the pixie murders. He popped open the top and stared in distaste at the slimy, green liquid before pouring it on his fingers and rubbing the mixture on his eyelids.