Clockwiser

CLOCKWISER

by

Elle Strauss

CLOCKWISER

by Elle Strauss

Copyright © 2012 Elle Strauss

ISBN 978-0-9878078-6-1

This is a work of fiction and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are represented fictitiously and nay resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual event or locales, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.

Chapter One

CASEY

Beginning of Summer Holidays

Sometimes I wished I were an only child. But then I’d be walking or taking transit instead of getting a lift from my brother Tim in his Cavalier beater. He didn’t have air conditioning either, and the wind blowing in from our open windows was hot and moist. The humidity made me feel like I was wearing a warm, wet washcloth for a shirt.

“Can’t you drop me off first?” I said, fanning myself with my hand. I was meeting my best friend Lucinda at the mall, and she only had a thirty minute break from her job at
Forever21
. Plus, the mall was air conditioned. Bonus.

“I gotta get some cash first. Besides, I’m not your personal taxi service, Casey.” Tim snarled, turning the volume up on his stereo. The bass beat was so loud it rattled the trunk. “Get off your lazy butt and get your license already.”

I gave him a dirty look and reached over to turn the music down. I had a very good reason for not getting my license, but I could never tell Tim or any member of my family what it was. There were only three people
currently living
who knew the reason. One of them was my boyfriend Nate Mackenzie.

My heart still fluttered a bit when I thought of him in those terms.
My boyfriend
. Not just some out-of-reach guy I crushed hard on my whole sophomore year, but my
boyfriend
.

We’d already been an official couple for an entire year, totally blowing all the doomsday predictions that we’d never make it. No one thought a college boy would stick it out with a junior in high school--especially Nate’s evil former girlfriend!

But he did, and we were still going strong. I’d be starting my senior year in a few weeks and then I’d join him at Boston University, too.

“If you dropped me off first, you wouldn’t have to deal with me,” I tried to reason.

“If I didn’t shuttle you around at all I wouldn’t have to deal with you.”

The only reason he did was because my parents were putting the screws in. Tim’s bad attitude, questionable choice of friends and poor grades put him in their bad books. Driving me around was penance.

He pulled into the parking lot of the bank and hopped out, leaving the car running. I reached over and turned it off. Idling the car was bad for the environment for one, and a waste of Tim’s hard-earned minimum-wage job gas money for another. You’d think he’d know better.

I checked the time on my phone and grew anxious as Lucinda’s break time grew nearer. Tim had his back to me as he stood in line at the ATM window. I looked at my reflection in the visor mirror. Since I’d grown out of my skinny awkwardness last year (and snagged a hot boyfriend), I was more mindful of my looks. Instead of trying to hide behind a bush of dark, curly hair, I used better hair products and found a great stylist, and I liked the way my curls framed my face now. I took a tube of lip gloss out of my purse and rolled it onto my lips.

I tugged on my shorts and rubbed my bare legs. They were so long, my knees almost touched the glove compartment. Height had its advantages, but getting comfortable in a small car wasn’t one of them.

I turned the radio on and hummed along. I daydreamed about me and Nate and how we could relax for the rest of the summer, hopefully stretching the lazy days out as long as possible.

I checked the time on my phone again and immediately started stressing about being late to meet Lucinda.
C’mon, Tim!
He was second in line now. I texted Lucinda to let her know I might be a little late.

I heard sirens and I perked up. This wasn’t the best neighborhood. The bank wasn’t huge, just tucked into a strip mall along with a nail place, a dollar store, and a thrift shop. Litter overflowed from the bin and a good amount had been blown up against the cement foundation.

I checked on Tim. He’d finally made it to the front, the last one in line. If I’d known it was going to take him this long, I would’ve run into the dollar store and picked up cheap nail polish.

The siren noise grew increasingly louder and suddenly three cop cars pulled into the parking lot beside me. My heart jumped, and I thought fleetingly that maybe Tim was in trouble with the law again. Only, he was getting money out of the ATM, not robbing the bank.

But someone was.

Everything happened so fast.

A guy with a ski mask pushed past Tim as he ran out the bank doors. A cop shouted, “Stop or I’ll shoot,” and another masked man followed. Guns went off. Tim stood there, stunned and frozen.

I heard myself shout, “Tim!” He was right in the middle of the cross-fire!

A police officer ran to him, pushing him to the ground just as the second armed man shot in their direction. The officer fell to the ground, taking the bullet instead of Tim.

The robbers ran around the corner and out of sight, chased by police officers on foot and a cruiser down the back ally.

I sprinted to Tim where he was on the ground by the fallen cop.

“Are you okay?” I asked, my voice tight.

His face was white, and he motioned to the woman beside him. “Yeah, but I don’t think she is.”

The officer moaned, holding her hand on her chest.

“Oh, ma’am, are you okay?” I searched for blood but couldn’t see any.

“I will be,” she said gasping for breath. “I have a vest on.”

Another officer kneeled beside her. “Ambulance is on its way.”

The woman had dark hair pulled back in a low bun. Her eyes stayed pinched together and her pale face glistened with sweat. The impact of the bullet was enough to do some damage. I picked up her police hat that had fallen off her head and handed it to her.

“Thank you,” I said.

“Just doing my duty.”

The ambulance arrived. The paramedics pushed us aside and lifted the woman onto a gurney.

The cop who’d checked her pulse stepped forward from his open door cruiser. Radio dispatch noises leaked out.

I watched the ambulance pull away, siren blasting, and realized I didn’t know her name. I asked the officer standing beside me.

“That’s Officer Clarice Porter,” he said. “Now, would you two mind coming with me to the station to file a report?”

We agreed, and I took my first ride in a police car. It was Tim’s second, but his first was not for noble reasons. He still claimed it was his friend Alex, and not him, who’d stolen the cigarettes from the convenience store.

A thought like a loud banner ran through my mind as the doors of the police cruiser slammed shut and we drove away.

Clarice Porter saved my brother’s life.

Chapter Two

CASEY

One Month Later

Nate lifted my chin (ah, I loved it when he did that) and I closed my eyes, waiting for the kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and puckered up in anticipation, but before his tasty, soft lips touched mine, we were interrupted by a honking car and the most inconsiderate driver ever.

Tim screeched into the driveway with his signature blasting bass line vibrating his car like he had someone trapped in the trunk who kicked it in rhythm from the inside. I imagined the whole neighborhood sighing with relief when he turned the engine off. His friend Alex hopped out the passenger door with a shrug and a limp wave before hoofing it the block and a half down the street to where he lived.

“Get a room,” Tim grunted as he passed us.

“Oh, that’s so original,” I spouted back.

Nate frowned. “What’s his problem?”

“Which one? He has many.” I felt my shoulders droop. “You’d think that a near-death experience would make him appreciate life more.” And the people in it.

If anything, Tim had gotten even surlier since the incident at the bank. My parents had contacted a counselor, but so far he’d refused to go.

Nate’s frown deepened. “He wasn’t the only one who could’ve been hurt, you know. And here I thought I only had to worry about you when you tripped.”

“Trip” was the word we used for when I traveled back in time to the nineteenth century. Yup, I time traveled. I couldn’t get any more abnormal than that. But I was thankful for my “gift” now. It had everything to do with how Nate and I got together.

I didn’t want him to worry about me, here or there. “Where were we?” I said, grabbing his waist and pulling him close.

He tilted his head towards mine. “I think we were just about to...”

I pursed my lips and let myself fall into the rhythm of his kisses.

His mouth went to my ear. “I have to go or I’ll be late for work.”

Nate had a summer job working as a mail boy for an advertising corporation in Cambridge.

My fingers went to the cross around my neck as I watched him climb into his rusty ’82 BMW and drive away. I blew out a long breath when he disappeared around the corner, but when I turned to go back to the house I stopped short. Standing in the neighbor’s driveway was Chase Miller.

The Millers were new, just moved in next door two weeks ago. My parents had been quick to greet them and get all the facts. Turned out Chase was my age and would be going to Cambridge High with me in the fall. He was just barely my height, with short dirty blond hair. He had a slimmer build than Nate and walked with a lazy, easy-going slouch. Still, there was something appealing about him. He had calming, deep-blue eyes and right now they were settled on me.

Had he been watching me and Nate kiss good-bye?

He leaned against a small car with his arms folded. He raised his eyebrows and flashed me an amused smile.

I felt myself blush and let my gaze fall to the driveway as I headed straight for the front door.

We lived in a large, white Colonial with two rows of symmetrical windows, each with black slatted shutters. Our front yard had mature trees and bushes in full summer bloom, and it was fenced in the back. In all, it was easily large enough for the four of us, yet so often lately it seemed too small. Mom and Dad had recently reunited after a yearlong separation. Tim had used that difficult event to fuel his innate need to rebel, but unfortunately it hadn’t subsided with Dad’s move back home.

I could hear Mom shouting when I entered the front door. She and Tim were at it again. What was it this time?

Tim’s voice carried down from the upper floor. “Why are you snooping in my room?”

My mother yelled back, “Are you going to try to blame this on your friends, too?”

I hated it when they fought. I thought it might help if I offered a diversion. “Hey Tim, can I get a ride to Lucinda’s?”

He was already bounding down the steps and said tersely as he brushed by, “No.”

Mom was on his heels. She stopped when she saw me, opening her hand to reveal the item in her palm. I grimaced. It appeared Tim was into smoking more than just cigarettes these days. Mom closed her eyes, deflated. Why did my brother insist on hurting her? My blood surged with a new bout of anger and indignation and I chased after him.

“Tim! You’re doing drugs now? Are you insane?”