The dismissal bell echoed through Grimstone's halls, a symphony of chattering students and slamming lockers signaling the end of the school day. Dolores emerged from the imposing main building, blinking in the sudden sunlight. By her side were the Cavendish cousins, Imogen and Emmeline, their initial awkwardness replaced by a tentative camaraderie as they discussed their project ideas. Nadia and Chloe, forever intertwined with the world of music, were still within the school, presumably practicing for the Founders Day performance – apparently, participation was mandatory.
The trio strolled towards the car park, Emmeline's voice buzzing with enthusiasm as she outlined her initial concepts for the project. Dolores, half-listening, couldn't help but be drawn to the commotion unfolding near the student parking lot. A gaggle of girls, their faces plastered with exaggerated expressions of awe, were gathered around a singular figure.
Dolores' heart skipped a beat as she followed their gaze. Leaning nonchalantly against a sleek black car was a boy who seemed to have stepped out of a dream. His hair, the color of burnished copper, shimmered in the afternoon light, and his eyes, a startling shade of ginger, held a depth that sent a shiver down Dolores' spine. A smattering of freckles danced across his nose, adding a touch of boyish charm to his undeniably handsome features. Despite his casual posture, propped against the car, he exuded an aura of quiet confidence, his height accentuated by the relaxed slouch of his shoulders.
This wasn't just any guy; this was the epitome of cuteness.
"Oh, for goodness sake," Imogen muttered, her voice laced with annoyance. Before Dolores could ask what was wrong, Imogen marched towards the group of giggling girls, her voice cutting through the air.
"Alright, you lot, scram!" she declared, her arms crossed defensively.
The girls scattered like startled birds, their gazes lingering on the lone figure for a fleeting moment before disappearing around the corner.
"That's Ivan," Emmeline announced, her posh British accent cutting through Dolores' reverie. "My cousin, Imogen's twin brother." She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Also known as the silent cutie." Imogen snorted, a hint of amusement flickering in her eyes.
Dolores felt her cheeks flush as Ivan finally lifted his gaze from his phone. His eyes, those mesmerizing ginger orbs, met hers for a fleeting moment before flickering towards Imogen, then settling back on his phone screen. A knot of nervousness tightened in Dolores' stomach. Was it possible for someone to be this effortlessly captivating?
Emmeline's voice continued its low hum, a waspish commentary on Ivan's past romantic exploits. "Heartbreaker, that one," she said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "Can be quite the snub, too. Just ignores you like you're invisible."
Dolores bit her lip, torn between newfound curiosity and a flicker of apprehension. Despite Emmeline's warnings, the silent charm of the ginger-haired boy lingered. Hesitantly, she approached him, his gaze still glued to his phone screen.
Emmeline leaned in and whispered to Dolores, "He's a senior, by the way."
Dolores frowned. Senior? But Imogen was a junior… weren't they twins? Her confusion must have shown on her face because Emmeline chuckled, a knowing glint in her eye.
"There was an... incident," Emmeline explained, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Something that held Imogen back a year. But don't underestimate Ivan. He's the brains of the operation, even if he does spend most of his time brooding or silently flirting with the cheerleaders."
Dolores stared at Ivan, a new layer of intrigue adding itself to her initial attraction.
"Dolores, meet Ivan," Imogen announced in a clipped tone, her gaze flitting between them. "Ivan, meet Dolores."
Dolores met Ivan's gaze head-on, offering him a small smile. His initial blank expression softened, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. And were those…dimples? A flutter danced in her stomach as his smile widened.
Just then, Emmeline's voice cut through the charged silence. "Dolores, you wouldn't happen to need a ride home, would you?" she offered, her voice laced with a hint of concern.
Dolores hesitated, torn between the convenience of a ride and the lingering presence of the ginger-haired enigma. "No, thank you," she finally replied, "I have a friend who usually takes me home." I
Imogen grunted in response, sliding into the passenger seat of a sleek black car parked beside Ivan's. Emmeline hopped into the driver's seat with a wink at Dolores. "See you tomorrow, project partner!" she called out before pulling away.
Ivan remained by his car, watching the departing vehicles. He finally turned to Dolores, and for a moment, she thought he might speak. But instead, he simply nodded curtly, before climbing into his own car and peeling away, leaving Dolores standing alone in the fading light of the car park.
A low buzz from her phone broke the silence. She fished it out of her pocket, a message from Alistair flashing on the screen. 'Stuck in swimming practice for another 3 hours,'it read. 'Can you wait?'
Dolores groaned. She'd turned down the only ride home, and now Alistair was stranded at swim practice.
Dolores steeled herself, resolving to wait for Alistair despite the inconvenience. The car park felt increasingly desolate, bathed in the lengthening shadows of dusk. Glancing back at the building, she saw only a few stragglers exiting, their chatter fading into the distance.
With a resigned sigh, Dolores turned and began walking back towards the main building. The vast hallway echoed with the sound of her footsteps, an unsettling emptiness hanging in the air. Rounding a corner, she caught a glimpse of the setting sun through a large window, its fiery glow painting the horizon in a breathtaking display of orange and purple.
Dolores, drawn by an invisible force, found herself gravitating towards the window. As she pressed her forehead against the cool glass, a gasp escaped her lips. The terrifying sensation was returning. The world shimmered, and a wave of black dots erupted in her vision, blurring the vibrant cityscape before her. Panic clawed at her throat, her hands instinctively reaching out to grip the window sill for support.
This wasn't just nerves or the fading light. It was the same chilling effect she remembered from… the medication. The nurses at the rehab facility had warned her it might happen again, these visual distortions triggered by stress or anxiety. But this wasn't supposed to happen anymore. She'd fought so hard to be free of those pills, free of the dependence that had nearly consumed her.
Dolores squeezed her eyes shut, battling the rising tide of panic. Focus. Breathe. These were the mantras she'd learned in therapy, the tools she used to navigate the darkness...the darkness...
~
The moonlight streamed through the window, painting silver stripes across my room. I scooted closer to the cool windowpane, the night air tickling my cheeks. Up in the big, black sky, a round, white moon hung like a giant button. It was so pretty, I just had to draw it!
I grabbed my favorite crayon, the sparkly blue one, and flipped open my special sketchbook. My tongue stuck out in concentration as I tried to capture the moon's perfect roundness. It was hard! The moon seemed to move a little as I drew, making my lines wobbly.
Mama was lying in the big bed across the room. She looked kind of sad tonight, her face all pale and her eyes closed tight. Sometimes she coughed a lot, and sometimes she slept for a very, very long time. It made me worry.
"Dolly?" Mama's voice rasped, breaking the quiet. I turned, my sparkly blue moon forgotten.
"Hi, Mama!" I chirped, scooting closer to the edge of the bed. Mama smiled, a weak little smile that didn't reach her eyes.
"What are you drawing?" she asked, her voice soft like a whisper.
I held up my sketchbook, careful not to smudge the blue moon with my thumb. "It's a werewolf!" I declared proudly. It didn't look exactly like a werewolf, more like a fluffy dog with pointy ears, but it was the scariest thing I could think of.
Mama chuckled, a dry cough escaping her lips. She winced and closed her eyes for a moment before speaking again. "That's very creative, Dolly. But werewolves don't look like that."
I scrunched up my nose. "They don't?"
Mama shook her head, a single strand of hair falling across her forehead. "No, werewolves are big and hairy, and they change from men when the moon is full."
No grown-up would ever turn into a big, hairy dog!
A giggle escaped my lips. "When will Papa be back, Mommy?" I asked, changing the subject. Papa was always busy, leaving early in the morning and coming back late at night. But he always snuck into my room for a kiss goodnight, even if he was super tired.
Mama sighed, a sound that made my chest tighten. "Soon, sweetie," she mumbled, pulling the covers tighter around her shoulders.
"Okay," I whispered, feeling a little sad. Maybe I would draw Papa next, a big, strong Papa who could protect me from any monster, even if they weren't real.
I wriggled deeper under the covers, settling snug against Mommy's warm side. The scratchy fabric of my pajamas felt comforting against my skin.
"Will Papa still take me to the park opening?" I peeked up at Mommy, my voice barely a whisper. The new park was the talk of the town, with slides that reached for the sky and swings that tickled your tummy. Papa had promised to take me to the grand opening, and I couldn't wait to ride the giant dragon swing everyone was talking about.
Mama didn't answer right away. Her brow furrowed, and a sad shadow crossed her beautiful face. Finally, she nodded slowly. "Yes, sweetheart. Papa promised, and he wouldn't break a promise to his little Dolly, would he?"
A grin stretched across my face. "Nope! Papa wouldn't!" I bounced in bed, excited butterflies fluttering in my tummy. "Will Mama come too?"
Mama hesitated for a moment, her eyes flitting towards the window where the moon peeked through the curtains. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "Yes, Dolly," she said, her voice soft. "Mama will come too."
My smile widened into a giant grin. The thought of going to the park opening with both Mama and Papa filled me with a warmth that chased away any worries. We could ride the dragon swing together, maybe even grab some cotton candy that was pinker than pink!
I snuggled closer to Mama, her gentle heartbeat a lullaby against my ear. The worn ceiling above didn't seem so plain anymore. It transformed into a canvas where I could paint pictures of the park with Papa and Mama, all three of us laughing under the twinkling stars.