Chapter 2 2
Annabeth's POV:
"No, listen, I swear," Mara said over the phone speaker as I drove down the empty street, trying not to get lost because this town was a horrible maze of streets that all looked the same. No matter how long I had lived here, I had never gotten used to it. "My cousin saw him with her own eyes. A guy with silver eyes that, I don't know, I mean, they really sparkled."
I laughed, I couldn't help it.
"Mara, your cousin also said she saw a ghost in the gas station bathroom last year."
"But this time it's different!" she insisted, and I heard her chewing something crunchy on the other end. "Other people saw him too. In the next town over, Riverside or whatever it's called. They say the guy appeared out of nowhere and saved a dog from being hit by a car at superhuman speed."
"Uh-huh. And then he flew off into the rainbow on a unicorn?"
"Annabeth, you're the worst. Why do you always have to be so... so... so scientific about everything? Ugh!"
"Because I'm a biology student, Mara. It's kind of my job not to believe in fairy tales."
I turned the corner my aunt had pointed out that morning and passed a closed store with a broken neon sign.
Emberdale was quaint, I suppose, if you liked that kind of tiny town where everything closed at eight and the biggest excitement was when a new coffee shop opened.
"It's not a fairy tale," Mara argued, sounding genuinely offended. "It's... I don't know, something paranormal. Magic. Why does everything have to be so boring to you?"
"Science isn't boring. Science is amazing. Do you know how many processes have to occur simultaneously in your body right now so you can talk on the phone while eating those potato chips I know you're eating?"
"They're not potato chips, they're pretzels."
"The point is the same."
Mara sighed dramatically.
"Fine, fine. You're still a killjoy. But when they discover that vampires or whatever really exist, don't come crying to me."
"If they discover that vampires exist, that would literally be the most exciting thing to happen to biology in decades. We'd study their physiology, their..." I stopped mid-sentence.
Ahead, under a barely functioning streetlight, I saw a group of guys surrounding someone on the ground. One raised his leg to kick.
"Shit."
"What? What's wrong?"
"I have to go."
"But you didn't finish explaining about the vam..."
I hung up and pressed the accelerator.
My heart was racing, but my head was clear, calculating distances and angles as I approached. Four against one. The guy on the ground wasn't defending himself, just trying to protect himself. The others were too busy beating him up to notice my car.
I turned the steering wheel sharply and braked less than two meters away from them, making the tires screech against the asphalt. Two of the guys jumped back, screaming. Perfect.
I opened the door and got out before thinking too much about what I was doing. The adrenaline made me feel taller, stronger, even though I was probably still the same five-foot girl who could barely open jars without help.
"Leave now or I'll call the police!" I yelled, pulling my phone out of my pocket and holding it up high. "I have my phone in my hand, you motherfuckers!"
The tallest of the group, a big guy with a disgusting stain on his shirt, took a step toward me.
"We were just having fun," he said, slurring his words. I could smell the alcohol even from that distance.
"Well, have fun somewhere else. Get out of here!"
There was a moment, maybe two seconds, where I wasn't sure if it would work. The guy was looking at me with those drunk eyes, and I could see the indecision on his face. But then one of his friends pulled him away by the arm.
"Come on, it's not worth it," he muttered, and started to walk away.
The others followed him, hurling insults halfway between embarrassment and anger, but they left. I watched them turn the corner and disappear before putting my phone away and turning to the boy on the ground.
"Are you okay?"
I moved quickly and knelt beside him. He was curled up, breathing heavily, blood running down his chin.
God, they had hit him hard.
"Can you stand up?" I asked, placing a hand on his shoulder to help him sit up.
The moment I touched him, something strange happened.
I don't know how to describe it. It was like... like a gentle electric current, or heat, or both. Something I shouldn't have felt just from touching someone's shoulder through a jacket.
He lifted his head and our eyes met.
And for a second, less than a second perhaps, I could have sworn his eyes glowed gold. Not as if reflecting the light from the streetlamp, but as if the light came from within. Like molten metal or... or liquid fire, if that were possible.
I blinked.
When I looked again, his eyes were blue-green, normal, just a little glassy from the pain. Pretty, yes, but normal.
I convinced myself it had been fatigue, or adrenaline, or some weird optical effect from the dying streetlight. It had to be. People's eyes didn't glow.
"Can you stand up?" I repeated, because he was staring at me with a strange expression.
He nodded, and I helped him up. He was taller than I thought, and heavier, pure muscle under his clothes. When he was on his feet, he quickly pulled away from me, as if my touch made him uncomfortable.
I stepped back too, suddenly aware that I had just helped a complete stranger covered in blood in the middle of a dark street. My aunt would kill me if she knew.
"You should go to the hospital," I said, assessing the visible damage. Split lip, what looked like the beginning of a black eye, probably bruised ribs from the way he moved. "Those guys beat you up pretty bad."
"I'm fine," he replied, running his hand over his mouth. His fingers came away stained red, but he hardly seemed to notice. "I just... need to get home."
"You don't look okay."
"I've been worse."
I gave him that look I know I give when someone says something obviously stupid but I'm too polite to say it out loud. Well, usually too polite. Sometimes it slipped out.
"At least let me give you a ride. You shouldn't be walking like that."
"No, thanks. Seriously. You've done enough."
His voice was firm but not rude. There was something about the way he spoke, as if he chose each word carefully, that made me think he probably wasn't going to change his mind.
I sighed.
"Whatever you say," I said, and started walking back to the car. Halfway there, I turned around. "Be more careful, okay? Not all drunk people run away when a car appears."
"I will," he replied.
I got in the car and started the engine, glancing at him one last time in the rearview mirror. He was crouched down picking up some bags from the ground, moving with more ease than someone who had just been used as a punching bag should have.
Weird.
Also weird: that moment when his eyes glowed. Or when I thought they glowed. Because obviously they didn't really glow. That was impossible.
Right?
I shook my head and turned on the radio. I was being ridiculous. Too many conversations with Mara and her paranormal theories were affecting my brain. Eyes didn't glow, magic didn't exist, and that guy was just... a guy. A handsome, mysterious guy who had just been beaten up, yes, but just a guy.
College started tomorrow, and I needed to sleep, not stay up thinking about strangers with eyes that definitely hadn't glowed gold.
Definitely not.