The young man backed away from her. He ran as fast as he could, calling her a cold bitch over his shoulder. Had Jill wanted to, she could have caught up to him and beat the crap out of him.
She was frustrated but at least she’d come to know the name of the target of her curiosity. Her only comfort from the disappointment of her failure.
Damien. Your name...is Damien. Her eyes glowed almost silver. How appropriate. She smiled a fanged smirk.
Chapter Two
“Man do I hate orientations. They always act like we don't know anything about how school works. Like none of us have ever been in public school for twelve years. It's almost insulting.” Rob said with an air of annoyance in his voice, while stretching his arms above his head as he spoke. He’d run into Damien and Chelsea in the auditorium following the orientation.
Damien was too distracted by the woman he saw earlier to respond. She was almost too beautiful, flawless like an angel one might see at the top of a Christmas tree or in a painting on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
“Dame, you alright, bro?”
The snapping of Rob's fingers in Damien's face brought him back to reality. “Yeah, sorry Rob. I was just thinking about something.”
Rob shrugged. “Nice to know you still space out on us, D. I swear man, where do you go in these crazy trances of yours?”
Damien ignored him. There was still a lot on his mind that he was trying to sort through. Everyone around him didn’t seem to recognize him as the one they’d once slapped the label of town freak show on. However, he couldn’t help the feeling he still didn’t belong.
His friends and family loved him but deep inside, there was still a void. Almost like he was missing a crucial part of himself. The sensation made him feel alone even in a crowded room.
“Hey, mind if I get a lift home? My old man took the truck.”
“Sure, bro. Want to get a burger like old times on the way?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Once they made it back to Damien's house, Rob asked if he wanted to go hiking over the weekend like they used to in their scout days.
Damien agreed, looking forward to getting a few photographs for his portfolio. He’d taken up photography after his accident. The trauma made him realize collecting memories was more important than going to the skate park to see how many bones he could break.
“Cool! I'll bring my old man's poles. You still remember how to pier fish?”
How could I forget? Damien thought, remembering the times he and his father went pier fishing on the weekend for the family fish fry. His mom would fry and batter the fish and lay them on platters right next to his grandma’s homemade, Cajun hushpuppies.
He could still remember the sweet smell as it mixed with Cajun spices. The whole kitchen smelled of batter and peach cobbler. The memory as both comforting and upsetting.
“D, my bad man. We can do something else if it makes you feel more comfortable.” Rob said, his voice tense as he waited for Damien to reply.
Damien chuckled. “It's fine, Rob. Yeah, I'd love to go. Saturday at the crack of dawn as usual?”
“Stop off at old Bill's for sodas, bait and jerky? Hell, yeah.” Rob held out his fist, earning him a fist bump.
Old Bill Hutchinson smoked his own jerky for his shop and smokehouse in his backyard in homemade smokers crafted from old kettle grills.
“Sounds good. See you Saturday.”
“Yep, see ya then!”
****
It was after moonrise when Jillian arrived back at Damien's house. She watched as he paced his room without a shirt on, reading a book. His perfect hips swaying side to side with each step.
When the light went off, Jill snuck into Damien’s bedroom through his window. Her heart stopped for a brief moment the instant the smell of him mingling with cologne and aftershave hit her nostrils.
Damien turned over, freezing Jill in her place when her icy green eyes were met with gorgeous amethyst pools half-drunk with sleep.
He blinked a couple of times before raising up to look her in the face. “You. It is you.”
Jill didn’t know what to do. She never expected him to actually catch her. Would he be mad at her? Think she was a creepy stalker?
Her heart beat fast in her chest, her hand brushing her dark hair away from her face. “Yes. It’s me. It’s nice to see you face to face, Damien.”
“Who are you?” Damien asked, both curious and slightly annoyed. He’d begun feeling he’d only imagined this woman until now. “How often do you come by my house?”
Jill was dumbfounded, feeling a bit bad because she hadn’t tried harder to meet him in person until this moment.
“I’ve come by almost every night since you moved here,” She replied. Her words caught in her throat as she analyzed the features of his face.
“This isn’t usually like me, I must admit. It just seemed like every time I tried to meet with you, something happened. This was the only time I knew of that we could be alone.” She could feel the heat rolling over her cheeks.
For the first time in her immortal life, Jill felt like a teenager who’d gotten caught drinking or sneaking back into the house after curfew. She had no idea what to say.
“If we’re being honest, this is creepy as hell. I wish you would have approached me before nearly giving me a heart attack. So, how about we start over. I’m Damien Pierce. What’s your name?” Damien extended his hand to shake hers.
“Jillian. Jillian Styles. It’s nice to formally meet you.” She shook his hand,
