Chapter One

"You never know how you look through other people's eyes." Unknown

“Jace?”

Toria opened the door to her son’s room. It was – as with most teenage boy’s rooms – a disaster. Clean clothes mixed with the dirty, and sometimes she wondered if he would be able to tell the difference between the hamper and the dresser if he ever used them. His bed had gone unmade for weeks, books littered all horizontal surfaces, the remains of several midnight snacks and soda cans lingered around his computer monitor which displayed half of an English essay and a completed game of Solitaire.

She sighed, moving over to the open window that let in the breeze hinting of a spring thaw. She leaned out on the windowsill and looked at her son sitting on the fire escape, his good eye fixated somewhere in a realm she couldn’t see. He wore only a pair of blue jeans and a hoodie, making her frown.

“You should put on some shoes and socks,” she scolded lightly. “You’re going to get sick.” He turned his single-eyed gaze to her slowly, as if he didn’t quite recognize her. Then the bubble burst as his characteristic grin broke out across his face.

“Sorry Mom,” he apologized and got up, the old metal of the fire escape creaking. She stepped back as he slipped through the window and shut it behind him. He lingered for a moment there, staring either at his reflection in the glass or into the city beyond, before looking at her with a sheepish smile. “Got bored writing about an old guy with too much money trying to impress some girl.”

“Is this the essay you’ve been putting off all week?” She raised one eyebrow knowingly.

“I plead the fifth.” He stretched his arms out above his head, revealing an inch or so of narrow waist below his faded sweat shirt. “What’s for dinner?”

“Well I was thinking I’m too lazy to cook tonight, so what do you want?”

His eye lit up as he asked, “Pizza?”

Toria rolled her eyes. “Why didn’t I guess. Get your shoes on and we’ll go.”

They walked side by side down the street, Jason explaining the book he had to write his paper on. Toria gave a few suggestions until they reached the pizza parlor and headed for the order station.

After they found a seat by the window close to the front, Jason felt queasy. He swept his eyes around the seating area, which was rather empty because of how early it was in the evening still. A few patrons sat about, munching on pizza and talking. Behind a group of teenage girls sat one person alone, who was looking directly at Jason. He would say the person was staring at him, but it felt more concentrated than a stare. Jason could only make out that the person was male and wearing a brown jacket. The weirder thing was the man wore gloves, but the fingers on only one hand had been cut off. Jason shifted uncomfortably on the hard plastic seat and looked away.

“Number forty-two?” the girl at the counter called.

“That’s us,” Toria said, looking at their receipt.

“I’ll get it,” Jason offered quickly and got up.

As he pulled the large pizza across the counter, someone asked from behind him, “What happened to your eye, kid?”

He turned slightly to see the man who had been staring intently standing right behind him, with only inches between them. Jason jerked in surprise and hit the counter.

“What happened?” he asked again, this time the hand with the fingerless glove moving up and hovering over his own eye. Jason realized it wasn’t a man at all – but a boy only a few years older than him.

Jason mirrored the action on instinct, moving to cover his bandaged eye. “I hurt it,” he lied, all his creative stories suddenly failing him.

The boy’s other gloved hand suddenly grabbed Jason’s bare arm. “You’re lying,” he whispered.

He suddenly slid a finger under the tape holding Jason’s bandage to his face. Jason heard his own voice yelling, “No!”

They were torn apart and both of Jason’s hands flew to hide his face, while Toria’s fists beat against the strange boy. “What are you doing? What are you doing? Let go of my son!”

At her screams, suddenly people were everywhere. In the confusion, Toria grabbed Jason by his arm and pulled him out the door and down the street, their food all but forgotten. Once they were a safe distance away she stopped, taking his face in her hands.

“Are you okay?” she asked breathlessly, her eyes scanning him.

“Mom, I’m fine.” Jason wrapped his hands around her wrists, trying to pull her off. “Really!”

“You didn’t see-”

“No, I’m okay. There was nothing.”

She released a breath of held air and relaxed her hold. She pushed his long bangs aside to inspect the bandage over his eye. Some of the tape had come loose and the bandage had torn a little from the stranger’s attempt, and Jason’s hand immediately went to cover it.

Toria finally let go of her son and rubbed at her forehead as he ran his fingers through his bangs to pull them in front of his bandage again. “Let’s go home,” she suggested, even though they were already almost there. They didn’t say anything as they headed back up to their apartment. Toria watched as Jason slipped into the bathroom shortly after she opened the front door, but said nothing. Long ago Jason had started to refuse her help, and she no longer offered it.

Jason removed the torn bandage and threw it away, keeping his gaze locked down at the sink as he replaced it. Only once his eye was hidden away did he look up at himself, fingers lingering on the bandage. He could still feel the stranger’s skin against his cheekbone, the finger slipping under the tape. He had lied to his mother.

He had seen the man’s finger.