Whispers

Moments

Lucius jerked awake fully clothed on his bed to the pounding and screaming in his head. Somehow, the voices found jackhammers and turned all of them on at the same time. With a groan he rolled onto his back and pressed the palms of his hands on his eyelids, trying to prevent his eyeballs from popping out from the demolition going on. This was why he made it a point not to get drunk. Even if the voices were silenced by the alcohol, the hangover the next morning wasn’t worth it. He gnashed his molars together, eliciting a scraping sound that made the spiking agony behind his forehead worse. He tried opening his eyes, but the excruciating pain wouldn’t let him.

“Shamus!” he called out like a dying man. Well, by the way he felt, he might as well die. Anything to get away from the torture the voices seemed to be enjoying. Holy hell fire, it hurt. “Shamus!”

“Sir,” said his caretaker.

Lucius tried to open one eye but decided against it as a new lancing pain sliced through his head.

“Bucket,” he said between clenched teeth.

“Sir?”

“Bucket!” he said louder, which he paid for with a round of throbbing.

He rolled over once again and hung his head off to the side of the bed. He didn’t know if there was a bucket to catch the contents of his stomach, but at that point, he didn’t care. He wretched, seeming to make his whole body convulse. Acid burned up his throat and out his mouth. The sound it made when landing did indicate that Shamus had managed to find a bucket in time.

Lucius reached an all new low. It was the worst feeling. It hurt more than the hammering in his head. He spit into the bucket one last time and promised he would never allow alcohol to run rampant in his system again no matter what thoughts he tried forgetting about. Drowning out the image of that picture wasn’t worth what he was going through at the moment.

He breathed in several times before he attempted to sit up. He was finally able to open his eyes. The voices, having taken pity on him, lessened their onslaught. Shamus pressed a glass of the ugliest shade of brown he had ever seen.

“What is this?” he asked, but was afraid to know.

“It is what is called a prairie oyster.”

Lucius took the glass and studied its contents. He took a whiff and grimaced. His eyes watered.

“What’s in it?”

“You do not want to know,” Shamus said with too much glee than what was proper coming from a caretaker. He seemed to be enjoying his master’s agony a little too much. “Now drink up. It will make you feel better. Then close the tap that is allowing the ravages of the alcohol in your system. And shower. You stink of a bar floor and cheap perfume.”

“Are you sassing me?” Lucius attempted a glare, but from the non-reaction of his caretaker, he wasn't that effective.

“Just doing my job, sir.”

Yup, there was a little too much enjoyment there. Lucius gulped down the wretched concoction and added Shamus to his list of people he would make pay for what had happened to him the night before.

At first, he thought he wouldn’t be able to keep the blended decay down, so he shut the tap he had opened during the party and his equilibrium returned. He wasn’t fully healed, but he certainly felt better. The jackhammers had stopped. Then the thought occurred to him.

“How did I get home last night?”

The last thing he remembered was kissing Sasha on the balcony.

“Master Desmond returned you here, sir,” Shamus answered, formality returning to his tone.

“Remind me to thank him.” He gave the empty glass to Shamus and crawled out of bed. He swayed when his feet touched the carpeted floor. He grabbed for one of the bedposts and rubbed his eyes. When he was sure he wouldn’t face plant, he opened his eyes and asked, “What’s on the schedule today?”

“Nothing, sir.”

“Nothing?”

Shamus manifested a tablet and scanned its contents. “Master Tomas gave you the day off. He said he will be visiting you tomorrow to discuss your actions last night.”

Lucius winced. “That sounds ominous.” He scratched his head and asked himself, “What else did I do last night?”

“Apparently, you were quite the bell of the ball.”

He stabbed Shamus with a cutting glare. “I didn’t ask for your input, Caretaker.”

“Of course, sir.” Shamus backed away and disappeared, but not until Lucius caught a hint of a smirk on the old man’s face. It made him want to laugh. Only inhaling the reek wafting off his clothes stopped him. His caretaker was right; he did smell like cheap perfume and a bar. A dirty bar.

“Never again,” he kept repeating to himself every step of the way to the bathroom.

After a scalding shower, Lucius walked out of his bathroom trailed by steam, feeling a little more like the whisperer he was. He was drying his hair when a disgusted wail greeted him. He turned to face his fireplace and smirked at what he saw.

“Jeez, man! Cover yourself up, will you?” Desmond said from the reading chair, covering his face with his hands, yet peeking through the gap his fingers made.

Lucius touched his bare chest suggestively and licked his bottom lip. “You know you want some of this,” he teased.

Desmond grimaced, shaking his head and letting his hands fall to his sides. He buried himself deeper into the chair’s plush cushions. “Oh, that’s so wrong.”

“I know you like it.”

Lucius finished drying his hair and tossed the towel on the footboard of his bed. Then he made a show of buttoning his jeans. Desmond should be glad he didn’t make a habit of leaving the bathroom naked.

Sobering, he regarded his friend, still looking horrified at having to stare at Lucius’ half-naked self. “Shamus tells me you brought me home last night. Thanks for that.”

“You can thank me by putting on a shirt first.” Desmond pointed at the button up lying across the bed. “A dude shouldn’t have to look at all that.” He gestured toward Lucius, keeping his gaze on the crackling fire.

Laughing, Lucius obliged. He didn’t think he could have a serious conversation with Desmond in his state of undress. He quickly made himself presentable, ran a hand through his hair to get the damp locks away from his face, and sprawled himself over the chair opposite Desmond’s.

“I don’t remember much of last night, but the caretakers seem to be talking already. Shamus seems to know more of it than I do.”

Desmond rolled his eyes. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, man. Why did you let yourself get drunk last night? Although, you were the best entertainment at Janika’s party for sure. God, I wish I had a camera.”

Lucius bent forward and hid his face in his hands. “All I remember is kissing Sasha on the balcony. The rest is all black after that.”

“You kissed her? Dang, boy! I’m impressed.”

He glared with one eye through his hands. “Not the point, Des.”

“You seriously don’t remember what you did?”

Lucius sat back and prepared himself for what was to come. He had a sinking suspicion his reputation as the best whisperer in the brotherhood went down the crapper the night before. “Come on, hit me.”

“Well, after you re-joined the party, you decided it would be a great time to play strip charades.”

“What?” Lucius’ jaw fell to the floor.

“You divided the party into two teams. We were actually leading when you decided it was time to play another game. We went through strip twister, strip boggle; you’re getting the pattern here, right? And who knew you were so good at all these games?”

With each new detail, Desmond divulged, Lucius’ stomach shrank smaller and smaller. He definitely didn’t have a face to show at the next meeting, that was for sure. Who would respect him after the party?

“Janika was furious at first. Words like ‘mockery’ and ‘my party’ were bandied about.” Desmond laughed. “You should have seen how red her face was. But she couldn’t do anything because everyone followed your lead. The party ended when you passed out during a very vigorous game of spin the bottle. You kissed more than Sasha that night, my friend.”

Lucius touched his lips. “Oh, God! Stop, I don’t want to know anymore.”

“Well, just remember, if you run into old George and he winks at you, act cool.” Desmond wiggled his eyebrows.

“No!” Lucius jumped out of his chair and paced the length of his room. It was the only way he knew to keep himself from upchucking all over again. Then he stopped suddenly. “Old George? Really?”

Desmond doubled over, he laughed so hard. At one point, he even pointed at Lucius.

“You should see your face right now,” he said between chuckles. “It’s precious. Green is your color, man. It really is.”

Lucius’ stomach flipped. “Oh, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“That’s the price of alcohol, my friend.” Des resettled himself on the chair, piecing his composure together by adjusting his jacket. “Come on, it’s not all that bad.”

“I kissed Old George!” Lucius said. “It can’t get any worse than that.”

“Oh,” Desmond shrugged, “I think you managed to gain the respect of all the whisperers last night. They saw a lighter side to you that they never thought you had. Come on, sit down.” He gestured at the chair. “It’s fine. You have nothing to worry about.”

Tentatively taking his seat, Lucius pushed away images of old George from his mind. “I appreciate you bring me back here, Des. I really do. And I’m never allowing myself to get drunk again. That’s a promise.”

“It’s a shame. You were really the life of the party.” Desmond raised both his hands at the murderous stare Lucius sent his way. "I'm just stating a fact. Don't shoot the messenger. I take it the reason why you let yourself get drunk has to do with a certain picture of a human girl with a boy. Am I warm?”

Again Desmond managed to hit the target. He knew Lucius too well, and he wasn’t quite sure how comfortable he felt about that.

He tugged his earlobe. “Am I that transparent, Des?”

“That picture can mean anything, man.” Desmond switched from teasing to serious in less than three seconds. “For all you know, that guy in the picture could be her best friend.”

“He had his arms around her and he was kissing her on the cheek, how obvious do you have to be? Plus, the picture was on her bedside table. I’d say it’s pretty important for her to keep it that close.” Lucius let his gaze move to the dancing flames. The voices disagreed with his thoughts, but he ignored them.

“So, what are you going to do?” Des asked after a long silence between them.

Lucius sighed. “Unless she actually confirms that the guy in the picture is her boyfriend, I’m going to continue to see her.”

“That’s brave of you.”

“Or stupid.”

Desmond got up and patted Lucius on the shoulder, “Buck up, man. I still say he’s not her boyfriend.” Then he straightened. “I heard you got the day off today, lucky bastard.”

“Yeah.” Lucius allowed himself a gloating grin.

“Use it wisely.”

And with that nugget of clichéd wisdom, Desmond took his leave.

It took Lucius less than a minute to decide what he wanted to do. He closed his eyes and teleported himself to Blackwood High. He stood across the street and checked the sky. The sun was angled low enough to signal the end of the day. And as if confirming his calculations, the bell rang. Seconds later, students burst through the doors and spilled out onto the parking lot.

He didn’t have to look hard for Karina. Her bright hair was a beacon among the sea of black, brown, and blonde. She wore a floral blouse and khaki pedal pushers, which made her look younger than she really was, but he thought her adorable all the same. He had made sure to bring money with him this time. Wherever she wanted to go, whatever she wanted to do was on him.

Just as quickly as he had found her, Karina’s gaze landed on him. She smiled and waved before hurrying toward him. He lifted his hand in a wave, feeling heat run across his cheekbones. And just like the other times, her presence silenced the often cruel mob in his head.

“You actually came,” she said breathlessly. She adjusted the backpack strap on her shoulder.

Without thinking, Lucius reached out and took the pack from her. She let go, allowing him to shoulder the bright purple bag. It made her giggle, the sight of him carrying her things. He thumbed his chin self-consciously, pushing away the image of the picture in her room. He was going to enjoy this afternoon with her. He owed her that much.

"Of course, I'm here." He returned her smile with a tentative one. “Was there any doubt? Okay,” he held up a hand, “don’t answer that. I know I’ve left you in a lurch twice already.”

Mischief sparkled in her eyes, betraying her amusement. “I wasn’t thinking anything of the sort.”

“No grief counselling session today?” The question left his lips before Lucius realized she didn’t know he was there at the time. He wanted to punch himself for slipping up. Jeez, he was bad at pretending to be human.

Karina searched his face for a long minute. Lucius was sure she could see just how big of a fraud he was. This was it. The moment she was going to ask all those personal questions that he dreaded. He didn't have the right answers for her, and lying would only add to his already mounting guilt. He wanted to shirk away, but he steeled himself instead. Whatever she wanted to know, he would tell her the truth. Or at least, as much of the truth, he was comfortable with telling her.

The silence reached an unbearable point, and Lucius was about to break it, when Karina said, “Not today. It’s a class rotation thing. The school wants to make sure everyone gets time with Mrs. Willis. The next session for our class will be in a couple of days.”

Lucius shifted his weight from one foot to the other. He had to make sure the ground was still solid beneath him. Why wasn’t Karina suspicious by the fact that he knew about the grief counselling sessions?

He hadn’t realized he had spoken the question aloud until Karina answered him.

“The whole town knows about the grief counselling sessions.” Her tone turned teasing, “Unless you’ve lived under a rock these last couple of weeks, you would know too. Nothing to be suspicious about.”

It made sense. Blackwood wasn’t a big town. And a school shooting was definitely national news. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but every time he was with Karina, she seemed to have an answer for everything. So he decided to test that theory again.

“Why don’t you ask me anything personal about myself?” Lucius looked into her clear blue eyes. Her expression remained calm.

“I’m a patient person. I don’t like prying into the lives of others. Whatever you want to tell me, I will accept. Do you want me to ask more personal questions?”

Lucius couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He didn’t have that much experience with the fairer s*x, but he wasn’t completely ignorant. Girls liked asking questions. They liked getting to know the guy they were interested in. A part of Lucius was relieved Karina would accept whatever he could offer her, but another part of him wanted her to ask, to open him like a book and read every page with relish. And it was this polarity in thinking that confused Lucius even more. When it came to Karina, he was always torn between what he wanted and the secrets he hid. Thankfully, a change of topic came just as he felt his brow knot together.

“What are your plans for us today?” she asked.

Lucius attempted a shrug, but the action still felt awkward for him. “I thought it best that you choose. I’m at your service this afternoon.”

Her smile grew wider. “Really? I get to choose where we go?”

“I’m all yours.” And deep down, in a secret place inside his heart, Lucius knew those words were true.