Summer's Love

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

-Vivan POV-

Can I drive you to school? I squealed almost too excitedly for Summer. I didn’t even hear her answer. I looked around our living room just breathing in the moment. I sat up on the dark black leather couch. Danny hated it in the store, but he saw that I loved it. He got two couches for me that day. The living room walls are a light cream, the walls littered with pictures of Danny, Summer, and myself in dark black frames. The two couches sit in the shape of an L around the 72 inch TV and a small dark wood coffee table in the middle.The TV sits on a dark black wooden entertainment center that is filled with dvds, games and gaming stations. We used to play RockBand as a family on my days off, then we'd eat chinese food and ice cream. Those days are now gone, just a distant memory. I stood up from the couch, straightened my scrubs and went over to the door. As we stood at the door putting our coats on. The May mornings are just cool enough for a light jacket. Summer dear? She looked over to me while zipping up her form fitting silver coat from Cench. Have you lost weight again? Summer just put her head down. Yes. She whispered. Summer I’m not upset, you just have a great metabolism. We will pick up some groceries after school. We can get any and all the junk that we like, how does that sound? Summer just nodded and smiled at me. I hate that Summer thinks i'm upset when she loses weight, she just cant help it. I know she eats, and the kid eats any and everything. I’ve even taken her to the doctor and clinic that the orphanage stipulated. Her labs have always been great.

-Summer POV-

We walk out the door, the air crisp with morning dew. The smell of the blooming crepe myrtles filled the air. There are two in the front yard, one at the far corner of the yard, the other next to the house in the flowerbed just off the sidewalk. The front door is in the center of the house and the sidewalk goes from the driveway and to the front door. The flowerbed spans from the driveway to the other side of the house. The outer edge of the flowerbeds were lined with bricks that matched the house color. The house is a dull dark red brick, two large bay windows on either side of the front door on the first floor with dark tan window frames. The upper level has three regular sized windows with the dark tan frames. The roof is a light grey, with dark tan gutters. Marigolds and mums are the only flowers in the flowerbeds. Danny liked the marigolds because they kept bugs away and mums were hard for Vivan to accidentally kill.

We spend most of the car ride talking and catching up on homework assignments. Vivan asked. Did you make any friends or meet anyone new? No. I quickly answered. Honey why do you do that? She asks this question and she has always asked why, but I've never really had an answer. Is there something I can do to help or make it easier? Vivan asked with concern and loving intent. Not that really or anything I can think of Vivan. After all these years living with Danny and Vivan they never question me calling them by their names and not calling them “mom” or “dad” but worry and stress over if I have friends. Vivan broke my thoughts. I just don’t understand that's all honey, I had all kinds of friends when I was your age. I felt like I craved it, like I needed to have someone my age who I could talk to. Honey you are so beautiful, you have long luscious blonde hair, big shiny emerald green eyes, and your skin is so clean and clear with just a subtle tan. The boys your age should... I stopped her gushing over me. It’s not that I don't get looks or attention from people I just don't really want it I guess. I like things how they are, I mean I don't feel lonely or anything like that. I look down at my hands that I'm just fidgeting with. Vivan reaches over and places her hand on mine. Summer that's perfectly ok, I just worry. I want you to have everything that you want. I looked over and smiled at Vivan, as we pulled up to the school. It seemed like it had already been a whole day with everything going on this morning.

The high school building was like most schools, made of dark red brick, lots of big windows. It was a simple flat top building in the shape of a square with an open air courtyard in the middle. As I walk in the double door entrance the smell of old books and musk. I walk through the check in station. I feel this sudden sense of being watched, which is nothing new. The mean girl crew is probably lurking somewhere nearby, they’re just a small group of girls who pick on others because of their own issues. I pick up the brown clip board and sign my name on the list and time of arrival. Summer Anderson 7:49am. The school made the students start signing in two years ago because a young girl went missing during her senior year. The police were never able to determine if she made it to the school or if she got picked up beforehand as no one could clearly remember if they saw her before the first bell that day but her car was in the parking lot.

I continued my way down the hallway to my locker. The school colors are purple and gold so the obvious choice of locker color was this plume purple. The walls were painted a dull gloss grey, the floors a white tile, and it has a gold/tan color drop ceiling. I quickly spin my lock, 09, 26, 13. I opened my lock, grabbed my bag, and placed my jacket inside. I closed the locker back and locked it away again. Amber, the leader of the angry girls, was standing just a few lockers down from me. I knew for sure she was going to start up, but I didn't see her group yet and she was on the phone loudly yelling at whoever it was. She normally wouldn't do anything without an audience.

I walked into my first hour, English class. The smell of old books and dust hits you when you walk in. There's twenty desks in this classroom, the walls are covered floor to ceiling with bookshelves that are completely filled with books that cover everything from literature, grammar, science, world history, and a few about supernatural beings. Someone asked about the fiction books one time. Mr. Drone gave a roundabout answer that didn't answer anything. The only cleared space on the walls is the marker board and even it is surrounded by books. Mr. Drone gets very upset if anyone touches the books on the shelves behind his desk. He keeps the clear plastic doors on those shelves shut and locked. His desk is constantly covered with books and papers. He has one very large leather bound book that has a clasp lock that he keeps in his top right drawer. He writes in this book some mornings, but what is unusual about it is that he uses an ink pot and a quill. I've never seen this done in real life before, just in the movies. He leaves just enough room on his desk for his laptop and not much else.

Mr. Drone was already at the front of the room scowling at me, he had it in his head that class starts at 7:50am because he thinks that row calls shouldn't be a part of “his time”. It was just barely 7:52am and he was at his podium. His podium was made of thick solid wood, it was basically a giant rectangle block with a small square cut out of it. The reason for this ridiculous hunk of wood was a few years back Mr. Drone was leaning forward on his podium putting his weight into it, and the small single metal pole frame podium gave way. Mr. Drone fell unable to catch himself, he ended up fracturing his left arm.

Mr. Drone is nearly 6 foot tall and best guess weighs 250. Most of his weight is in his belly, which gives him a pear-shaped appearance. He has dark black hair that has grey streaks, dark brown eyes, and a grey scruffy beard. He always wears a button down shirt, almost exclusively a white shirt. Mr. Drone wears an ill fitting suit everyday for the last 12 years that he has taught at this school. Today he is wearing his light grey suit, with his full moon shaped glasses. The man wears glasses that appear to be a half inch thick, but can see the kid in the back of the class trying to sneak a text message.

Mr. Drone is still scowling at me as I take the first open seat nearest to me. I don't care if it is your birthday or if you woke up hearing voices in your head! Class starts at 7:50am sharp everyday Summer Anderson! Mr. Drone boomed at me. It always set me on edge when people shouted at me or raised their voice to me, just because I'm soft spoken does not mean I take disrespect lightly. On any other day I would have simply looked him in the eyes and nodded that I understood, but not today. Him yelling at me just made my blood boil. I immediately stood up, causing my book bag to fall to the floor, and locked eyes with him. I wanted to just scream back at him and demand he never speak to me that way again. Then he simply held his hand up. Apologies dear child, go ahead and step out in the hallway and gather yourself. Walk the hallway if you need to. I know emotions are hard sometimes, I shouldn't have pushed today. Mr. Drone said softly. Mr. Drone in the entire 12 years of teaching here has never spoken softly or kindly to any student. He is an excellent teacher, firm on his rules, and very blunt about how he feels. I quickly peek over to look at my classmates' expressions of confusion, mixed with blank stares fill the room. I'm now confused, but still shaking with anger. I hadn't even realized that I was so angry I was shaking. I quickly picked up my book bag and walked back out into the hallway.

I took a few deep breaths in and out, counted to ten slowly and felt better. I was still upset that he yelled at me, but I was no longer shaking with rage about it. I decided I would go ahead and walk down the hall to the restroom and wash my face and just take a few more minutes before going back into the classroom. The restroom was on the other end of the hallway. There are two in the building on opposite corners of the building. I started walking down the hallway, suddenly I could feel the little fine hairs on the back of my neck and arms standing up. Click. I froze hearing a small click, I couldn't place the sound but it was like i've heard it before. I turn my attention to the windows that look out into the courtyard.

The courtyard is fairly empty, one large shade tree and a few benches spread throughout. With the building being built in a huge square, you can stand in front of the windows and see across into the hallways of the other three sides of the building. I look straight across, the hallway is empty. I look over to my left side, it's also empty. As I turn back to my right to finish walking down to the bathroom I see something that looks like a dark figure in the hallway that seems oddly out of place. The figure is walking very quickly down the hall in the direction I was heading. I'm studying this dark figure when I realize the figure has bright red eyes that seem to be locked in on me.

I quickly turn to my left and start to run down the hallway toward Mr. Drone’s classroom. I kept my head turned toward the figure, I think I made it three or four steps down the hall before I turned my head to face the direction I was running and came to a dead stop. There's a man standing a few feet in front of me. He is also wearing a dark colored trench coat, a big brimmed hat, and gloves. The hat shadowed most of his face, but I could see that it was a very light complected man with red colored eyes. I stop, frozen in place as I watch the man lift up what appeared to be a small camera. Click. The sound, that's what it was, this man is snapping pictures using an actual camera. Why are you taking pictures of me! I snapped at the mystery man, but it was like I growled it at him. Where did that come from? My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps closing in on me from behind.

I turned in time to see the first man with red eyes that I could swear are glowing. He also has something in his hand, I immediately panic at the sight of him pulling his hand out of his coat pocket unsure of what he could have. I turn to run, the second man tries to grab me. I swing my book bag at him hitting him hard in the face. It knocked him to the ground with a hard thud that echoed in the hallway, I ran past him. Whoosh Ah! There's a terrible pain in my right shoulder, like I just got hit with a hot poker. I keep running, and my body suddenly feels extremely weak. I fall to my hands and knees, still trying to crawl away. I hear the two men talking to one another, but it's like everything is spinning and the burning is spreading across my body. Dammit you prick she could have killed me! The first man whined. Did she though? No, we weren't so lucky. Now shut up and let's get to moving. Is the last of the two mens conversation I heard before falling completely on my face.

-Unknown POV-

Did you send the pictures to the boss and confirm this is the girl he has been looking for? Peter asked from the front of the car. Yes you incompetint twit. I snapped while trying to adjust my seating position so that I didn't cover the opening to the trunk and so that I could still see the wolf mut. Ugh! You don't have to be so rude to me Greoge! I'm not the one who lost her 12 years ago! Peter whined. That is correct you are not, that vampire is dead. Vincent raised his eyebrow and completely ripped that vampire's head off. George snapped back filled with venom. Peter just huffed and looked forward at the road. Finally, the boss can have this girl and get what he wants and maybe he will stop ranting about taking over the Moon Hill Pack.

George continued to think over the last 12 years of searching for this girl and being unable to find her. He suspected magical help was involved and had for sometime now, but what witch or warlock would want to openly go against Vincent Von Grave. The car stopped. We made it to the helicopter pad, I checked over the girl while Peter grabbed the case from the trunk.

Do we need to dose her again? Peter asked. No. I say firmly. I hate werewolves as much as the next vampire, but if the boss thinks that we hurt her by giving her too much of the sleeping drugs mixed with wolfsbane he'd kill us without a second thought. Peter just stood there looking at me all stupid. What?! I ask sharply. Why wolfsbane? Doesn't that make them really sick? Peter asks with a panicked tone. Yes you i***t it does, but normal medications don't work well or last long on a wolf! You have to add a kicker to keep their body busy fighting it so the drugs can work! Ugh! Constantly having to explain myself to him like he hasn’t been around the last 100 years. Peter puts the girl on the metal cot in the bubble outside of the helicopter on the front right so that we can still see her. He then puts some noise cancelers over her ears, it was going to be a long ride and we can't have her ears bleeding when we get there. Vincent would be very angry.