Page 5 of Rise of the Melody
“Okay,” I answered, my stomach tightening. Something was up, though I couldn’t begin to put the pieces together. Aunt Lorna had been strange lately, almost secretive, though I couldn’t fathom what in the world she could possibly have going on.
She disappeared into the back where I imagined her with her curls pulled up and her stained apron covering her blouse. I eyed CooShee and held out my hand. To my shock, he raised his and set it in mine. A grin split my face. He’d been taught to shake! Or give a high five. I didn’t know what to call it, but it was cool. I shook his paw and let it fall. A thought came to me that I hoped his owner never came forward, but I pushed it away. I couldn’t keep him. Tiny shop. Tiny apartment. Huge dog who attacked and ate rodents at the park. No, I couldn’t get attached.
The day flew by because we were so busy. Close to closing time I got a text from a girl from school, Tessy, asking if I wanted to hit the new club tonight called Churs. Apparently, that was how people in New Zealand said Cheers, and the owners were Kiwis. I didn’t know Tessy very well. We were acquaintances, a group of misfits with fake IDs. I couldn’t help but be flattered at the invite, so I agreed.
* * *
On the subwayride over I’d been lucky enough to get a seat and was scrolling on my phone when a news headline caught my eye. I abruptly sat up straight. OMG…I held my breath as I read: “Body Found in Third Missing Person Case on Shehan Island.”
Shehan Island.
Oh, my gods. That’s where I was born in Maine. A chill zipped through me, and all the other passengers on the train seemed to disappear as I read.
Three hikers have been reported missing from Benn Shehan National Park in the past two months on Shehan Island. Today, the body twenty-five-year-old Shannon Baltrove was found. A coroner report lists the cause of death as drowning but she had markings on her leg that prove she may have been dragged by an animal prior to being in the water. Shehan Island has no known natural predators. However, this is not the island’s first mysterious disappearances. Thirteen years ago, a group of seven people went missing at sea after leaving from Shehan’s port on a whale watching excursion.
My phone slipped from my jittery hand into my lap as my fingers covered my mouth. I felt ill.
Through the pounding of my heart in my ears, I heard the doors to the train hiss open and glanced up in a fog. I barely registered that it was my stop, fumbling to grab my phone and jumping up at the last moment. I rushed through the people to jump off just in time. My heart was still hammering when the doors closed. It took a moment to drag my mind out of where it had been moments before. Great Gaia. I swear, that island was cursed. Despite being a warm spring night, I was cold.
“Letty!” Tessy and two friends were waiting by the dingy stairs. Seeing them shook me out of the icky haze enough to force my legs to move. I raised my chin and joined them, heading up the steps in our chunky heels.
Don’t think about that article, I told myself.Don’t think about any of that unexplainable weird stuff.I needed a fun night to get my mind off it all.
The four of us girls might have stood out in a normal town with our kohl-lined eyes, various piercings, ripped fish net stockings, and rainbow assortments of hair, but in New York City nobody was shocked by anything. I didn’t necessarily care about being different…I just didn’t want to be noticed.
At age fifteen I became uncomfortable with the attention I started getting, mostly from older men. I’d developed quickly, becoming curvy. My hair was long and wavy, like a mix of gold and bronze down my back. Though my face was roundish with a spattering of freckles that I thought made me look younger, men looked at me in a way I didn’t want to be looked at. And don’t get me started on the comments about my “sultry” voice….
The alternative, dark style didn’t scare away everyone, but it kept the worst of the unwanted attention at bay.
Inside the club, I went to scout out possible seats while my three companions used their fake IDs to get drinks. I didn’t drink. I was here for the music—the louder the better. There were two suede sofas facing each other but one guy was sitting there. He looked harmless enough, like a college kid or maybe a tourist.
“Is anyone sitting with you?” I asked, shouting over the music. “We have four.”
He stared at me a long moment and I wondered if he heard me over the high volume. Then he spoke and a shiver went down my spine.
“Aye, lass. You can nick these seats from my mates; I won’t mind a bit.”
Scottish?Uuugh. My absolute weakness. I wasn’t proud of how foolish it made me. I sat right next to him and for a moment we stared at one another. He suddenly looked ten times hotter than he had at first. Had he ever worn a kilt? What were the plaid colors for his family line? I imagined his light brown hair blowing in the highland breeze by the sea.
See? So dumb!
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Luis. What’s your name, love?”
“Letty.”
“That’s lovely.”
Don’t giggle, Letty, you idiot.
“I have to say,” he told me. “Your voice is…bloody spectacular.”
I would normally want to roll my eyes but found myself smiling and thanking him, knowing it was extra raspy and velvety when I had to shout over the music. I asked questions about what he did and where exactly he was from just so I could hear him talk more. I’d never been shy with boys, and though I’d never been with a guy, I loved kissing.
Kissing was my favorite.
By the time my friends joined us, I wasn’t proud to admit I was practically in his lap and we were, indeed, kissing. I barely noticed when his friends joined us as well. It was Luis and I kissing, my red lipstick around his mouth, while our friends drank and laughed and ignored us.
