| She pushed the old heavy door open; the school building was still relatively quiet since the girl’s hadn’t woken from their dorms yet. Briskly she walked as her maroon skirt swayed around her ankles. She walked down the dark hallway, hearing only her black stilettos clicking away on the yellow tiled floor. “Hey you.” Sascha’s smooth voice whispered as he propped himself in the doorway of the teacher’s lounge. “Hello Sascha.” She answered dully, slinging her battered leather bag over her shoulder. Sascha Lancőme had been doing his best to seduce her since he’d arrived from California ballet teacher a year ago. He’d been hard to resist everyday of the school year. He was sleek, graceful, and undeniably charming. He had distinctive, pale blue eyes. They were the kind that when turned on you they absorbed you, and pulled you in until you had no choice but to surrender. His entire form was enticing. His arms were slender and they had ridged lines of muscles coursing down them. His tanned shoulders were broad with a rough attractiveness. And the color black, great goodness, it was made for him. Right now he was working it as he stood in a tight black tank top, crisp black slacks and bare feet. “Any calls lately?” He asked, slithering closer to her. “No, what do you mean?” Shivers coasted down her spine as he stood behind her. “Well I was wondering …” His fingers caressed her skin around the chain, “if Scott called.” “Sascha, I’ve got to get ready for my class.” She rolled her eyes at his advances. “Fine, but one question. How long do you plan on waiting for him?” “I’m not waiting for anyone.” She whispered, “I just don’t fall your idiotic seduction schemes like ever other women you’ve banged.” She walked proudly away. *** Knowing she’d gotten him well she smiled slyly and marched to her first classroom. She flipped the switch and a dull white light filled the large English classroom. The room was old but well preserved. With deep green painted walls, a dark wooden floor, and old fashion wooden student’s desks. Quietly she shut the door and fell against it. “Oh Scott, I miss you so much.” Her hand covered her face and the temptation to sob was building in her throat. “Do you always call his name like that?” A voice stabbed at her. “Good God Ambrosia, I think I almost peed my pants!” Hannah jumped. Ambrosia Feldner stood in the doorway opposite of Hannah’s. An unearthly white-glow was surrounding her, almost like an angel of death. Her pale brownish-blond hair still rested gracefully on her shoulders, and her big brown eyes were filled with concern and caring. “Do you miss him?” Amber, as they called her, stepped away from the errie white light. “Yes.” She whispered in a voice so soft and terrified it scared even Hannah herself. “Do you need to go home?” “No.” Hannah replied, her eyes still closed, hands clasped to her chest. Amber sighed; there was no use in trying to get Hannah to go home. Amber, Hannah, Jesse, Kandace, and Abby had all known each other since high school. There was no way she could get Hannah to go home and take care of herself. Hannah was always too proud to admit defeat, expect with Scott. There had been no defeat in that; he’d just plain disappeared. Chapter Three: A Kodak Moment and Plans Begin “Scott, man, get a clue!” Mark Tremonti let his guitar drop to his waist. His jaw locked as he stifled a groaned for the fifth time today. Stapp was not here, his mind kept wandering. His two best friends were worried about his sudden depression, which had appeared a few weeks ago. “Scott what’s going on?” Scottie Phillips asked, still positioned behind his drums. “Nothing, nothing. Sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Scott attempted to focus as he wiped his eyes. “You’d better man, we’re losing time, and we gotta practice.” Tremonti’s voice faded into the background as Phillips watched Scott. Something in seeing Stapp wipe at his eyes made Phillips think of an event that was supposed to happen. When Scott wiped his eyes again Phillips’s own eyes swung to the calendar on the back wall. No, not today. “Scott, go get Jagger.” Phillips ordered as they sat in Stapp’s basement studio. “What?” Mark barked at him. “Go get Jagger, and spend some time with him. Mark and I have to fix a few things.” Phillips grinned sweetly. “Okay, I just need some sleep.” Scott trudged upstairs. Mark stifled his anger until Scott had shut the door and he was all the way upstairs. “What the hell do you think you’re doing Scottie?” “Today’s the 25th.” Phillips stared at him. “Splendid, that means we have a week until we hit the recording studio.” Mark groaned. “It’s March 25th Mark.” Phillips pushed. “Well I’m glad to see you know the date--” “It’s the second anniversary of Hillary’s death you moron!” Rage reddened Scottie’s face. Mark’s mouth dropped open as his hands dropped the guitar, and he was nearly lynched by his own equipment. “I am such a prick.” Mark couldn’t believe he’d forgotten. “I second that belief Mr. Tremonti.” Phillips snapped, climbing from behind his drums and heading upstairs. *** Mark left the equipment running and rushed upstairs behind Phillips. Mark and Phillips walked through Scott’s beautiful home in search of their best friend. Mark felt positively evil, he’d barked at his best friend for grieving over his lost wife. Of course Scott wouldn’t be able to pay attention today. They soon found Scott in Jagger’s room. Their hearts broke when they saw him. He was lying in Jagger’s blue racecar bed, curled up with Jagger’s sleeping body clutched to his chest. “Oh man.” Phillips whispered. They watched Scott sleep, his bare feet far past the end of the short bed. Jagger’s little arms wrapped around his daddy as his head rested on Scott’s chest. His beautiful little body rose and fell as he breathed contentedly. Scott’s long, big body was entirely wrapped around the little boy. Neither, boy nor man had ever looked so content. “I think he might break the little guy.” Mark smiled as they watched Scott hold tighter to Jagger. “No. Scott would die a slow death before intentionally hurting his baby.” Phillips answered assuredly, still mesmerized by the current scene. Scottie looked around the room and found a camera that was sitting on a bookshelf. “This is a Kodak moment if I’ve ever seen one.” Scottie picked it up. Knowing both of the slumbering Stapp’s could most likely nap through a nuclear holocaust Phillips started snapping, and used the entire roll of film. |