CHAPTER THREE

She was so pissed that she decided to throw his stupid cell phone back in his face. After lifting the phone from the bed, Diana flew after John, and right when she was ready to grab his arm, he took off running down the hall. “John!” She wailed, running after him, though she knew she probably couldn’t catch up with him. Not only was he faster, but his freaking legs were a heck of a lot longer than hers, and besides that, he’d just jumped down the first flight of stairs from the second step down!

It had been hard enough refusing his gifts and seeing that sad look in his precious eyes, but now he was threatening to run off with her luggage! How much stress did he want to put her through?

She hurried down the first flight…

She could tell by the stern tone of voice he’d used and the intense frown he’d given her that he wasn’t bluffing- when the testosterone kicked into full gear, John Carpenter rarely backed down.

If he threw her stuff in the trunk, would she allow him to drive off with it just to prove a point- I’m staying where I’m at, and you can’t stop me!- or would she act like a defeated, silly, little girl and climb into the passenger side?

Alarm bells went off in her mind and she picked up pace- her lap top computer was snuggled safely in one of those cases, and if John escaped with it, he might read what she’d written there!

At the bottom of the third flight, she caught the door just before it slammed in her face, and breezed past some guys who were smoking cigarettes at a picnic table. Vaguely, she heard their whistles, and the toe of her shoe tripped on the black top. She caught herself with her hand and took off again, stopping at the tail of Elaine’s station wagon. John had just locked the luggage in the secret compartment beneath the seats. Turning to give her a look of victory, with is eyebrows raised and a smirk on his face, he closed the hatch.

“Get in the car, Diana.”

“Who the hell do you think you are, ordering me around like this! Give me those keys!” She jumped up, stretching her arm overhead when he held them out of reach.

“I’m telling you what to do because you don’t seem to know what’s best for yourself these days, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to leave you here when it’s obvious it’s been too stressful for you!”

“You’re not my boss!” Ugh, if that didn’t sound like something she would have said ten years ago, then what did? Her hands fell to her hips and she scowled while she caught her breath.

He headed toward the front of the car and said, “You’ve got two minutes to get in, then I’m taking off.”

“Two-“

“Is everything OK here, Miss?”

John straightened with his hand on the door handle. Diana turned. One of the guys from the picnic bench was sending John a warning with a tight frown. Not smart, considering he was shorter and not quite as filled out as John.

Warmth crept into her cheeks, because she realized what a scene they’d been making. There were other students peering at them through windows and from a group at the end of the long building.

“We’re fine,” she panted. “He’s just being a jerk of a big brother.”

“I’m not your brother!” John barked, then continued, “Diana, just admit you can’t handle college life this far away from home! You’re losing weight, you look exhausted, and you’ve been depressed! I’m not going to give your luggage back, so you might as well get in!”

If others weren’t watching, she would have torn into him for saying all of those things so loudly.

He’d said he wouldn’t give her luggage back if she didn’t get in! Wrestling the keys away from his was unlikely, and she didn’t want to draw any extra of this highly unwanted attention from her peers, so she hurried to the passenger side and opened the door. John’s eyes widened in surprise, and then she sank onto the seat and slammed the door.

He joined her quickly, sliding the key into the ignition while she dialed the Carpenter residence with his cell phone. John pulled her seatbelt around her, and he returned her nasty scowl as the phone rang in her ear.

“Hello?”

“David, your son is being a genuine pain in the butt!”

“Diana, give me that!”

“NO!” She held the phone back, but his large hand squeezed hers almost painfully, and then he yanked the device from her with his free hand.

“Dad?” He said once he held it to his ear, and then she ripped it away. His mouth ajar, he shot her a double take, and she grinned deviously.

“David, your son stole my luggage and forced me to get back in the car with him.”

David sighed. “Diana… you two work this out. You’re both adults.”

“Yeah, but can’t you dock his pay or something as a penalty for being a class-A jerk?”

Rolling laughter. “Diana, I have an errand to run, Honey. I’m hanging up.”

“David!”

The bell tolls

A dreadful sound

I answer hesitantly

My fears confirmed,

I drop the phone

Know more agony...

-Diana Hawthorne

Four in the morning… four in the morning and memories of the past few days wouldn’t let her sleep. Her laptop computer screen glowed from the center of the desk, bearing yet another of her depressing poems. She closed the window and, out of habit, opened an internet explorer window and clicked on the “Favorites” box. Within moments, multi-colored sentences began scrolling down the screen, and somehow, in the midst of her hypnotic state, she read, “Hello, Crystal”, but did not type a reply. How could she even think that a chat room would bring her comfort at a time like this?

She turned it off… the whole thing… rolling her chair away from her desk and listening to water running downstairs. Apparently, John couldn’t sleep, either, and she doubted he would sleep well for a long time.

Her fingers lightly glided along her lips, her shoulder tingling with the memory of John’s display of passion. She reached for her robe and stood in one move, and as she tied it in front of her, heard the familiar scratching… the bumping and scratching inside of her closet… and hurried into the hallway, her breath catching as she whirled, expecting to find some faint apparition gliding after her. But there was nothing… nothing but the dimness of her room. But earlier… earlier… she scooted over to David and Elaine’s room and closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief.

Now she was alone… alone in the hall, at least. The creaking floor downstairs drew her slowly in the direction of the stairwell. Was her mind playing tricks on her? John’s door had been most closed over, as it usually was when she was asleep. Which direction did she dare to go? To John’s room or to the kitchen? Either way she could ‘see’ things… either way she could wind up having a panic attack and wishing she were dead.

God, why had her life become this nightmare?

It’s not so bad, she assured herself. Keep busy and you’ll barely notice… you know the routine.

Gripping the rail, she descended the steps as lightly as a – On the fourth step from the bottom, she froze. John was sprawled on the couch, one arm draped over his eyes, snoring lightly. Then what…The aroma in the air told her that someone, some time recently had been brewing coffee... though John could have fallen asleep after he'd turned on the pot.

Oh, God. OK. Breathe. Don’t pay attention to fear… just move on.

Move on, move on, she coaxed herself, and finished her trek into the kitchen. There she froze once again, blinking at the tall, dark haired man who stood with large hands cupped around a mug, the rim of which was the only thing visible. Even without his collar, he was easy to recognize because of his resemblance to Superman- the hair color, the curl over his forehead, the blue eyes, the broad-shoulders…

“Father… “ What’s his name? She hadn’t been to church much since he’d taken over… but she did know his name. Right?

“Jacob, please,” the man smiled faintly, studying her as though she were a painting, and she patted her chest to make sure she’d properly closed her robe. Satisfied, she took a step back. Running away from him would seem childish, but to stay here, in the darkness of the early morning with a man she barely knew, priest or not… Well, he wasn’t Greg, that was for sure.

She peeked over her shoulder at the sleeping John.

“He’s been out for about a half an hour, the poor guy,” Jacob said. “He’s been working hard, hasn’t he?”

She nodded, watching John’s blue pajamas expand slightly as his chest rose and then fell. That chest that was so warm and comforting… she imagined closing her eyes, listening to his heartbeat. At least he was still here… God, what would she do if she lost him, too? Folding her arms as a shiver seized her, she thanked God that the man hadn't been alone. He’d at least been talking to someone, a man of God, even though it was a little strange for John to call for help like that. But for all she knew, the father had dropped by unexpectedly.

“How are you feeling, Diana?” Jacob asked, and out of the corner of her eye, she could see him sipping his coffee.

“I’m tired,” she whispered. “I need to go back to bed… no offense…”

“None taken,” he smiled faintly, and Diana backed out of the room. A priest, here in their house. Was this good or bad? Was this why they’d been so upset, bumping and scratching inside of her closet? Or had that been her imagination? Like poor Hamlet, she was either mad or haunted…

“I’m going to… sleep in the recliner,” she said. “I’m sure John won’t mind if you want to rest in his bed.” She pursed her lips, averting her eyes to the mauve and white linoleum. “There are clean blankets in the hall closet…I can get them.”

“I’m fine, Diana. Get your rest.”