Author: Eden Beck
Category: Paranormal
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/29741_12
“That’s sounds like a song from the eighties,” I say with the start of a laugh, but then I see that she’s being serious. “What boys?”
“You mean you haven’t noticed them?” One of her eyebrows arches up a bit in disbelief. “Speak of the devils, here they are now.”
She points over at a huddle of backpacks gathering around three boys in the hallway. I know, before I catch sight of their faces between those surrounding them, who I’ll find.
“Oh my god, it’s them,” I whisper to myself, not realizing that I’ve said it out loud.
“Huh?”
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“Nothing.” I shake my head and dart a sideways glance their way. “Who are they?”
Jess leans up against the lockers and performs a mock swoon.
“Rory, Marlowe, and Kaleb. Rory is the oldest, pretty much close to the same age as Marlowe. Kaleb is the youngest, but all three of them are seniors. Don’t ask me how that works. Their family owns this giant mansion a couple of miles from here. It’s buried up in the hills, but most of the locals find a way to ‘stumble’ up there from time to time, just to get a look.”
I bite my tongue, wondering if the mansion just so happens to be the one my mom was telling me about. The one on the same land as our little cabin. I don’t like to think of the locals “stumbling” around in the woods, in my woods, hoping to catch a peek at a local landmark.
Jess is watc
hing me when I turn back to her. “Everyone knows about them, like everyone,” she says with emphasis on the last word.
“Are they celebrities or something?”
“Nah, they’re just weird and eccentric. No one can quite figure them out. And then there’s the fact that boys like that don’t exactly belong in a town like this.”
I blink up at her. “And that means?”
We’re interrupted as a tall boy with short-cropped hair sidles up to Jess and playfully nudges her on the shoulder.
“Which means that they make the rest of us look like gremlins compared to those shampoo models over there,” he says.
Jess lets out an irritated sigh as she’s forced to look away from said shampoo-models down the hall.
“Don’t listen to Tom, here,” she says to me, “he’s just jealous.”
“And why would I be?” the boy, Tom, interrupts again. “It’s not like it matters. They’ll be here for a few weeks, and then they’ll be gone again.”
It’s his turn to glance down the hall, but his face doesn’t take on that same enraptured look as Jess’ does.
“But that’s the thing,” Jess says, undeterred. “They’ve been gone for about a year and no one expected them back this soon. Of course, this time there is the added curiosity about the extra one.”
“The extra one?”
“Yeah, Kaleb. Last time they were in town, everyone swears there were only two brothers. This time, there’s three. Half the kids here say they remember Kaleb and the other half say they’ve never seen him before.”
Tom lets out a huff. “A bunch of suck-ups, that’s what it is. Everyone just wants to pretend they know them better than everyone else.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “So you’re calling your classmates liars?”
He takes a second to consider this. “Maybe not outright liars … but …” He shrugs. “If the shoe fits, you know? I mean, it isn’t exactly a secret that Marlowe was adopted. Kaleb probably was too.” He stares down the hall for a second, and I wonder if he’s thinking about that Jess said earlier about the mansion when he adds under his breath, “The lucky bastard.”
I watch the boys laughing and smiling as they talk to the gaggle of kids surrounding them like groupies. The longer I look on, however, the more it looks like they’re not exactly enjoying the attention. At least, not all of them.
The boy in the middle, Marlowe I think, looks genuinely in his element. He stands slightly forward, his shoulders relaxed and his smile genuine. To one side, Rory stands rigid with shoulders pushed back. He tries to look friendly, but he doesn’t seem to be responding with anything more than single-syllable answers.
And then there’s the third. Kaleb.
He stands uneasily, his weight shifting between his feet as his hands fidget at the strings of his jacket. There’s an air of excitement about him. Unease.