I nodded at him and began walking again. I only made it about two steps before he stopped me again.
“And, Joclyn, the sweater’s a gift, another piece of me, okay?” He winked at me, his blue eyes flashing. My eyes were glued to his for a minute before he tore away, speeding off in his car.
I continued toward the school, my head buzzing in an odd swarm of happy mosquitoes. Nothing made sense; Ryland had sat at my kitchen table less than a week ago explaining that the necklace didn’t mean anything, but since then, he has been trying to kiss me. Then there were all the gifts, like he was saying good-bye.
My heart thudded as I crossed the street, making a beeline to Wyn who was in a heated conversation with someone tall who stood with their back to me. I was determined to get over the weirdness so we could keep working on our friendship; after all, I would need her after Ryland left.
Wyn’s voice rose a bit, the frantic tone increasing as I moved closer to her. She was so engrossed in her conversation that she didn’t even see me step right up next to her.
“I’m not going to do that! Can you imagine how that would ruin everything? You would be making me start all over again.” I ignored her comment and looked toward the man standing across from her.
My heart seized in an uncomfortable fear. The man who had been following me around campus stood right there, his bright blue eyes burning into mine. Now that I was close to him, I couldn’t help but notice how familiar his eyes were, like I had seen them somewhere before. My mouth just hung open in a sterilized panic I couldn’t quite bat away.
“You know him?” I rounded on Wyn after my brain clicked back into place. She knew him. I mean, she stood here talking to him.
“Who?” Was she joking? He stood right here.
“Him! My Stalker.” I motioned toward him, my heart falling into my stomach to see him staring at me with an amused smile on his face.
“Hello, Joclyn.” He spoke smoothly, his voice laced with some deep, throaty accent I couldn’t place. His deep rumble vibrated through me, sending a shiver up my spine.
“Oh, great! You could have at least told me she saw you. I told her you were a janitor!” Wyn’s voice sounded almost hysterical as she shrieked out. The tall man turned toward Wyn, staring down at her. Wyn bowed her head, her lips moving in some form of apology I couldn’t understand before lowering in an unmistakable curtsy. That wasn’t normal.
“Will someone please explain to me what’s going on?”
“Joclyn, Ilyan. Ilyan, Joclyn,” Wyn introduced. “Ilyan is my brother, Jos. And, apparently a big jerk. Sorry; if I knew it was him you kept seeing, I would have told you.”
Ilyan turned on her again, but this time, Wyn stood her ground. They stared daggers at each other for a minute as if engaged in some form of silent conversation. Definitely brother and sister.
“I’m so sorry if I scared you,” Ilyan began, his accent rolling his vowels in odd ways. “I am working on my thesis concerning high school peer groups and how they affect the grades and future outcomes of children and adolescents. I have been conducting my research here.”
“Ummm.” I didn’t really understand all that just came out of his mouth. “So, not a member of a cult then?” I spoke my thoughts aloud without thinking, and my hand flew to my mouth in embarrassment.
Wyn and Ilyan only burst out laughing.
“No, no cult,” he lilted with a curious half-smile.
I let out a big sigh of relief. Good, maybe my dad hadn’t acted on his craziness yet. I couldn’t stop looking at his eyes; they were just so familiar. I kept staring, expecting their mystery to jump out at me. I guess I had been staring for far too long as Wyn cleared her throat beside me.
“So, what are you named after? Ilyan isn’t a very common name.” I spoke the first thing on my mind, hoping to end the rather awkward silence. “Are you named after a king or something; I know Wyn is named after a queen.”
“I guess you could say that,” Ilyan laughed with a rich, happy sound that seeped through me. Even Wyn joined into the joke. I must be missing something.
“What?” I asked, looking between them. They shook their heads in unison; the joke, one they didn’t want to share. I looked away in irritation to see the school grounds devoid of inhabitants.
“Oh, gosh! We are going to be late!” I whisked Wyn away from her brother without even bothering to say good-bye.
We parted ways at Wyn’s locker and I kept running, thankful that it was an A-day and to have gym, instead of French with Madame Armel, who would notice my tardy. Hopefully, I would have time to dress down before class began.