Dead Boys

Leyna

This year can go right ahead and fuck off. For starters, I had to switch schools. That might not seem like a big deal, but it is. I’m a senior and there are only six months left of the school year.

All I want is for this to be fucking over. I wasn’t exactly popular at my old school. As a matter of fact, I was teased.

It was familiar, though. I had my friend Dana. She saved me from hating it completely. Now I’m alone and my best friend is six hours away.

On the way to Lakon High, lightning streaks across the sky. There’s a roll of thunder right before rain falls heavily from above.

I scowl up at the dark clouds. “Is this my welcome?” I shout. Fat raindrops hit my eyes, causing me to flinch and them to sting.

To my right, I see something white through the trees. It’s so far it looks like a spec. Woods in torrential downpour isn’t the best idea, but it’s cold.

Without thinking about it too hard, I run toward the white speck. My shoes squelch in the mud and I can see my breath puff from my mouth.

There’s a sting on my cheeks and a pain in my chest. My limbs ache as I finally get close enough to see that what I’ve been running toward is a mausoleum.

Shit. I growl at my luck. I’m soaked to the bone and cold. The mausoleum might shelter me, but it won’t warm me up.

I stand there and look at it for a moment, wishing it would turn into something else. It doesn’t.

The rain lets up to a drizzle, or what I like to call a spittle. It spits in my face as I decide to check out the grounds.

I’m already wet and freezing. I might as well. Behind the mausoleum is a small graveyard. I count the headstones. Ten.

There might be grave markers in the ground that I can’t see. Walking through the rows, I read the names. I’m on the last of them when laughter draws my attention.

My initial reaction is fear. I mean, the setting is an eerie place for laughter. Another round of guffawing slices through the silence. There’s more than one. The laughs are deep.

I turn to see where it’s coming from. There’s a large pop-up canopy and beneath it are four guys.

They’re passing a joint around and have a fire going next to the canopy. I find the fire odd. The wood should be wet.

Whatever. It’s time for me to go. I need to go home and face the wrath of my father for not attending my first day. I turn back around when one of them calls out, “Hey, where are you going?”

Instead of running like I should, I freeze. “We got blankets.” A deep voice whispers in my ear. His warm breath hits my neck and my body shivers.

I spin and come face to face with one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen. He’s tall with lean muscles. His wisps of brown hair curl out from beneath his hat that he’s wearing backwards.

The guy’s dark eyes take me in and mine trace the tattoos on his chest. He’s wearing no shirt, a leather jacket, and tattered dark jeans. The waistband of his boxers sticks out above them.

He smirks and bites on his bottom lip. My useless brain leaves me high and dry. The moisture in my mouth evaporates.

The combination of a nonworking brain and a Sahara desert mouth leaves me speechless. “Jayza,” he sticks his hand out. I shout at myself until I take his hand and shake it.

“Leyna.” I nod.

“Where’s your shirt?” I blurt out like a dork. “It’s like cold,” I add, thinking that will make it better, but it sounds worse.

“Come with me. You need to get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.” My life lesson of stranger danger flies out the window as I lace my fingers with his.

His tattooed hands are big and warm. Despite being freezing, embers spark and float through my veins at his touch. My stomach heats.

I can’t see much of the other guys as we walk toward an ebon Victorian-style home. Fit for Dracula.

The wood porch matches the outside and on the inside, it’s about what I expected—maroon wallpaper with black paneling, trim, and hardwood floors.

Chandeliers the same color as the hardwoods hang above us with silver dangling chains.

Jayza smiles at me and then takes me up the spiral staircase. Maroon rugs line the hallways and a painting of a girl bleeding from the neck—being bitten by Dracula, catches my eyes.

I don’t say anything about it. Jayza opens the door to what I’m guessing is his room.

In the middle of the room is a four-poster bed. He digs through his drawers and pulls out a hoodie and some sweats.

When I look down at my feet, there’s mud caked on my shoes. I look back at the door. There is a trail of my muddy prints.

“Shit. I’m sorry.” I shake my head, annoyed with this day, minus Jayza. “I’ll clean it up,” I tell him taking the clothes.

He lets out a dark chuckle that speaks right to my center. “Don’t worry about it. Get changed and meet me back in the hallway. I’ll throw your clothes in the dryer.” I nod and he leaves.

I change quickly and glance around his room. There’s hardly anything in here that tells me anything about him. I do see a ninja turtle's hat on the desk. I put it on backwards and stare at the clothes I’m swimming in. He’s big, so I’m not surprised.

A train wreck is what I see staring back at me. It is what it is. My long red velvet hair needs brushed, and my wide brown eyes have bags beneath them. Can’t change it now. I shrug to myself and grab my wet clothes along with my shoes.

Jayza is leaning against the wall waiting for me. He smirks when I emerge. “Thanks,” I say, feeling better already.

“Don’t worry about it. That hat looks better on you.” Jayza adds the last part smoothly then he takes the clothes from my hand and my shoes from the other one. I trail behind him in this maze for a house.

“Haven’t seen you around here before.” He states over his shoulder.

“It’s because I’m new. Just moved here about a week or so ago.” I explain.

He nods. “I see.”

“What year are you?” He asks as we round a corner.

“Senior,” I say, a bit distracted as we move down dark steps. They spiral too. There’s a faint light from the small window, but it’s too gray outside to give enough lighting.

The steps remind me of a medieval castle or a dungeon. There’s a coppery smell. It gets stronger as we descend the steps. I gag.

Jayza laughs. “I should have warned you about the smell.”

At the bottom of the steps, it’s pitch black. It’s unnerving how he moves as if he can see.

“How is the smell not getting to you?” I talk with my nose plugged.

“And how can you see?” I throw out another question before he can answer the first one.

“Chill, okay.” He says expertly not answering the questions.

I hear the dryer door shut. It causes me to jump in fright. I yelp and stumble back. Something crunches beneath my bare feet. My yelp turns into a full-on scream.

Jayza picks me up and takes us to a room. We didn’t move up. We went further down. “Death Wish” by So Tuff So Cute & Slush Puppy pours from the speakers.

He lowers me to my feet. I’m not prepared for the three pairs of eyes on me. It’s more guys. Each of them, just as attractive as Jayza. They’re sitting in chairs, legs kicked out.

I clam the fuck up. A lump forms in my throat; it isn’t until now that I feel scared. My fight or flight is kicking in.