Lucas Ryan Versus: The Hive (The Lucas Ryan Versus Series) Read online

  “Here, you big bully,” I teased, and slid into her fingers her favorite handheld gaming device. It was black with silver trim, and had an old Hello Kitty sticker stuck to its backside. It had accidentally been dropped in the toilet two days before. By accident, I meant Roland threw it in there during a rather extreme argument. As with everything else in their copycat lives, gaming was a playful pastime, and she was winning that particular competition.

  “Yay! You did it! You fixed it!” she cheered. Her skinny fingers clicked the power button to the on position. Magically, her big brown eyes lit up.

  “No problem, Mo,” I said, with a crooked grin.

  “You’re an absolute technical wizard, Luc! Thanks!”

  I would have returned her gratitude, but something pulled my attention from our small clique. My eyes focused hard as my feet pushed me forward without even thinking. This tractor beam was activated by a piece of paper taped to the lockers across from me. It was bright red, with black writing and found its way into my hand, quickly. Once I started reading it, I could focus on nothing else.

  “Oh no, he’s seen it,” Roland huffed, with a worried smile.

  “Leave him alone. You know he can’t help himself,” Morgan giggled, lightly. She flipped her long hair around her shoulder, then concentrated on the tiny flashing images on her game device. I ignored both of them in a happy daze. The morning bell rang with the unmistakable shriek that we had come to know and hate. I tried to ignore it too, but couldn’t. Students scattered everywhere, marching like sleepy zombies to their first period classes. I was still paralyzed in my own little world as the hallways emptied.

  “See ya in second period, Lucas,” Morgan smiled, and strolled off to her class. Her stare still locked on her game.

  “Lucas, we’re going to be late,” Roland said. He nervously checked the time on his cell phone and tapped his foot. Stubbornly, he gave in and followed his sister.

  “Later, Luc,” he called, over his shoulder. I only managed a small wave, never looking up from my prized possession. Frozen by my silly fear. Frozen by my infatuation. Frozen by her handwriting. I was sixty-seconds away from starting the day off with a tardy notice, but I didn’t care. I probably would have spent those precious seconds in my peaceful bliss, if I hadn’t been interrupted.

  “Stalk much, Lucas?”

  “Ugh...” That voice. I really didn’t want to start my day like this. Felicity Campbell. Five feet and four inches of pure evil. My archrival. My nemesis. My personal Fed Ex of misery. Guaranteed to deliver the pain and heartache, come rain or shine.

  “Please move! You’re going to make us both late drooling over that stupid flier!” she not so politely stated.

  “So.”

  “So? No wonder you’re failing Algebra class...loser!” she cursed.

  “Evilicity!” I declared.

  “Don’t call me that!” she snapped. Her thin pink lips pulled together in a tight pucker. I stared at her for a moment, trying to ignore her smug face. I concentrated on the scoop of dirty blonde curls that adorned the top of her head. That only made her more agitated. She stepped into me with a shove.

  “Move!” she scolded.

  “Easy, Evil...I mean, Felicity.” I quickly folded the piece of paper and shoved it into my back pocket. She kicked my backpack that I had leaned against my leg, and stormed past me.

  “If I’m late because of you, you’ll be so sorry,” she warned over her shoulder, as she stomped down the hall.

  “Smell ya later!” I called to her. She quickly turned and stuck her middle finger in the air with a snarky smile. I grabbed my bag and followed behind her swiftly. Lucky me. I shared first period Algebra with her.

  ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

  Lunch break at school was business time for me and business had been good lately. Growing up in the Digital Age has been a blessing. Someone with my many technical talents, has made me quite popular with the gadget addicted world we live in. Computers, laptops, cell phones, music players and video games were my specialty. If it has a microchip or a motherboard, it was my friend. It just always came natural to me. I wish that applied to people too.

  “I sped up that old processor for you, added a little RAM. Your computer should fly now...no more hang-ups, guaranteed.” I was bragging. I slipped the newly refreshed laptop from my bag to the arms of its owner, and he handed me a twenty dollar bill. Another satisfied customer.

  “Thanks, Lucas.”

  “Anytime,” I proudly smiled, clutching my crisp bill. I usually only worked for tips, whatever the customer could afford, but with my sixteenth birthday on the horizon, my priorities had changed lately. My mode of transportation was in dire need of an upgrade, and by upgrade, I meant; I didn’t have one. No car, no freedom.

  One of my neighbors had an old ‘68 Camaro for sale, and it was calling my name. Dark blue, with matching black racing stripes running along its hood. I pictured myself driving down the road with Roland and Morgan, their arms stuck out the windows, surfing the air currents. The music blasting from the stereo speakers, serenading us on our road-trip to freedom. The daydream brought a wide, goofy smile to my face. If only the moment would have lasted. From behind me came a shuffling of bodies and three hulking shadows.

  “I’ll take that,” the largest of three boys snapped. He snatched up my twenty dollar bill so fast that I had to check my fingers for paper cuts.

  “Come on, Donnie. That’s my money,” I tried to say. He gently but forcibly placed his free hand on my chest. I took a deep breath.

  “No, it’s mine.”

  “I don’t understand...” I stuttered.

  “I thought we had a deal. You fix my phone, I pay you money,” Donnie spoke, slowly.

  “Exactly,” I agreed, feeling an uncomfortable rolling in my stomach.

  “Well, ever since I got my phone back, I haven’t been able to send a text message.” His voice filled with strength. I filled with a quiet anger.

  “You try pushing the send button?” I said, dryly.

  He leaned into me. “Is that supposed to be a joke?” He wasn’t laughing. His two friends tightened their stances on both sides of him. Uh oh, here we go.

  “Lighten up, Donnie...” I started to say, when he reached out and shoved me. My balance disappeared and I crashed to the ground.

  “Are you implying that I am too dumb to work my own phone?” He stepped over me and my heart started to race. I’ve always hated physical confrontations. I’m not sure why I pushed him even more.

  “It’s just a phone...I thought any monkey could work it. I guess I sit, corrected.” It just came out. I filled with an instant and irritating regret. He reached down and yanked me by my collar, hard enough to bring me to my feet again. His face twisted in anger.

  “Gimme your phone!” he demanded. I gasped in surprise. He twisted my collar with more force. My nerves flared up, but I fought them with my stupidity.

  “Why should I give you my phone? It’s much more complicated than yours...too many pretty flashing lights for you. Ha! You’d never find the send button on it.” It was crazy for me to be saying such things, but I couldn’t help it. My day started out bad...why not add to my misery.

  “You’re dead,” he promised. He pressed his face directly in front of mine. His breath wreaked of the ham sandwich he must have just finished eating.

  I smiled big. “Whatever. Let’s get this over with. I’ve got customers waiting.”

  He pulled his arm back and tightened his fingers into a ball. His knuckles popped as his hand became a fist. I closed my eyes and waited for the black eye.

  “Let him go,” a voice called out from behind the three goons. The sun seemed to disappear as a massive shadow fell over all of us. Donnie tried to throw his fist into my cringing face, but the mysterious savior grabbed his arm before he could. In the same motion, he was pulled to his feet in a quick jerk.

  “I said let him go!”

  Finally realizing who it was, my three unsatisfied customers came to
their senses. Donnie let go of my shirt and stood up slowly. He joined his two scared colleagues with a soft whimper.

  “Country...I...I’m sorry,” Donnie stuttered. “I was just trying to scare him.”

  “Yeah, Big Country...we didn’t mean anything by it,” one of the other boys pleaded.

  The third boy jammed his elbow into his friends side, warning him. “Shut-up man, you know he hates that name!”

  “Don’t call me Country,” the savior, warned. He spoke gently with no real anger in his voice.

  “Sorry, Country...uh...I mean, Tay,” Donnie choked on his real name.

  “Taylor,” my savior corrected, under his breath. He quickly let go of Donnie and let the trio off the hook. “Give Lucas his money back and get out of here,” Taylor warned, with ease. Donnie shot me a dirty look and tossed my twenty dollar bill to the ground. He quickly walked away, never making eye contact with Taylor again. His two friends followed his lead, with their heads down.

  “Good luck in the big game this weekend, Country...” one of them mumbled as he scurried away. Taylor’s brow fell sad at the mention of his nickname. I looked up at my sulking hero and laughed with relief.

  “Thanks, T.”

  “You okay?” Taylor asked, concerned.

  “I am now,” I joked.

  “It wouldn’t be a normal day in the valley if I wasn’t saving you and your big mouth from somebody,” he teased, and offered one of his giant hands to help me up.

  “My hero,” I nodded, with a smile. He smacked me on the center of my back lightly, and handed me my precious backpack. It knocked the wind from my chest a little. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if Taylor knew just how strong he really was.

  Our schools star athlete, professional football player in waiting, and shy ladies man, was a rare specimen. Six foot three, 225 pounds of pure, tone muscle. Golden blonde hair, deep blue eyes and the skin of a bronzed god. He was a real life superhero. That’s why I called him T. That was short for Thor, the God of Thunder. Put a giant hammer in his hand, and he would look as if he just walked out of the pages of a comic book. My hero. My other best friend.

  Everyone else called him Big Country, which he hated. I couldn’t blame him though, I’d have a problem too if I shared the same name as one of the biggest country stars in the world...Taylor Swift.

  “Mr. Ryan, I hope you and Mr. Swift were not starting trouble again,” Mr. Parker asked. Our schools guidance counselor and self appointed hall monitor. He looked at us from behind a huge pair of glasses that always sat at the end of his nose. I swear if the wind blew hard enough, they would slip right off his face.

  “No, Mr. Parker, no trouble here,” I smiled, and quickly scooped up my money from the ground and shoved it in my back pocket. Taylor ran his hand behind his neck, nervously.

  “Good.” Mr. Parker smiled, and turned his attention toward my bodyguard. “Big game this weekend Mr. Swift. You can’t afford any setbacks.” His accusing eyes whipped back to me from behind his thick glasses. I rolled my eyes slightly.

  “It was all just a silly misunderstanding,” Taylor said, shrugging his broad shoulders.

  “I doubt that,” Mr. Parker warned. I huffed out loud at his judgmental tone. This teacher has been picking on me for my entire high school career. Taylor’s eyes pleaded with me not to push it any further.

  “Everything’s fine, Mr. Parker,” Taylor said. Mr. Parker nodded in agreement.

  “Head to your next class, Mr. Swift, I’ll handle things from here.”

  “Handle what?” I asked, a little too upset. Taylor frowned at me. Instantly, I felt bad for losing my temper and lowered my head. He nudged my arm with his as he walked past me.

  “See ya later, Luc. Be good,” he said, with a crooked smile. I managed to smile back at him, but just a little one. As he made his way through the small crowd that had gathered around us, he was welcomed with cheers of “Big Country” and pats on his back. He sighed and I nodded to him in understanding, just before he was swamped by his celebrity.

  “Office. Now, Mr. Ryan,” Mr. Parker said.

  “Why?” I asked, upset.

  “You’ve been warned many times before that your amateur business ventures are illegal on school grounds.”

  “But...”

  “But nothing! It’s one thing if you want to ruin your future, but you seem intent on taking Mr. Swift with you,” his voice filled with disgust.

  “That’s not true!” I snapped.

  “Taylor Swift is a shining example of this proud school and all that is stands for. You will NOT taint that,” he scolded, tapping his foot.

  “Gimme a break! All you and this school stand for is using my best friend and his God given talents! You don’t care about the real Taylor!” I had officially lost my temper now, and with it, any self-control I had left. The last of the remaining kids in the crowd winced at my big mouth. A few of them even giggled, quietly.

  “Office! Now!” he yelled, and his giant glasses fell from his face. Without thinking, I quickly caught them just below his angry grimace. The sun shined through them with a dozen colored flecks of light. He watched me stunned and embarrassed. I felt like throwing them as hard as I could in the opposite direction, but I swallowed that image down like a jagged little pill. Mr. Parker’s face turned bright red. Then I thought, what would a hero do? What would Taylor do?

  I handed them back to him.

  “Fine.”

  LEVEL 03: Burden In My Hand

  I really needed to get my act together. I was on thin ice with my parents already. A school suspension would not go over well. I turned up the volume on my mp3 player and tried to relax as the music flowed through my earbuds. With a tiny hum, I waited for Vice-Principal Chan and her wrath. I grew up knowing her and her husband. Friends of the family. That changed when I started high school though. Ms. Chan distanced herself from my family when I started as a freshmen, I’m not sure why. She was always very kind to me, but she was not the biggest fan of my hijinks. She always gave me a second or third chance. But what about a fourth and fifth chance?

  Nervously, I sat outside her office in a small plastic chair, watching the office secretary watch me, watching her. Renee Johnson, sweet and carrying, but a little flaky. She always had a smile waiting for me when I came in for my special office visits.

  I smiled impatiently. “I’m innocent this time, I swear.”

  “Of course you are, Lucas,” she mocked me, politely. I leaned back as far as I could in the kindergarden sized waiting chair. My mind spun at the thought of the length of detention I was sure to receive this time. My thoughts became scattered and I couldn’t focus on anything. Something began to feel off...feel different. Waves of heat rolled over me. It was completely uncomfortable. As if a giant was standing behind me, breathing its hot, sticky breath on me. The image made my heart race.

  “What’s wrong with me?” I asked no one. This wasn’t the first time I was in trouble, so why was I acting like this. I needed to calm down, get my nerves in check. I pulled from my backpack a shiny touchscreen computer tablet and started flipping through the different applications on its screen. Maybe a quick game of Tetris would clear my head. As the different colored game blocks slid down the screen, I let out a long sigh. Suddenly, the screen flickered as if something was interfering with it. Little digital lines distorted across the screen in faint pulses. I shook the tablet gently in annoyance.

  “That’s weird,” I said, scratching my head. Then the music inside my earbuds began to distort with a matching buzzing noise. More heat rushed over my body again and I felt a little dizzy. It only took me a moment to realize that the pulsating interference was happening at the same time as my heat waves. That wasn’t possible...was it?

  “Lucas, are you feeling all right?” Renee asked. Her eyes were wide with concern from behind the front desk. Apparently, I looked as bad as I was feeling.

  “I’m fine,” I lied.

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah, just excited
about meeting with Ms. Chan,” I tried to sound normal. The waves of heat had started to fade and my tablet screen stopped flickering. I turned the music off in my earbuds and tucked the chords in my pocket. The lights in the office flickered on and off a couple times. It happened fast and I rubbed my eyes to be sure I wasn’t seeing things. Quickly, I looked around the room and something caught my attention. Actually, that’s not exactly right, something made me look down. Something unnatural. It felt as if someone had locked their hands on both sides of my head and slowly pointed my stare to the middle of the office floor. When my eyes finally focused, I could not look away. The heat returned, but only behind my eyes. It hurt at first, like a blowtorch inside my head.

  “Ouch!” I fell to the ground with my eyes wide open and burning. With my stare still glued to the middle of the office floor, my vision ached and my brow filled with beads of sweat. My heart pounded inside my ribcage. I could feel the force of it pushing against the cold, dirty tiles. That’s when I first saw...it.

  What lay before me made no sense. It confused me. It bewildered me. It terrified me when it told me to PICK IT UP. I know that sounded crazy, but inside of me only one thing felt real. The urge to reach out and embrace this tiny thing...to pick it up.

  “Am I dreaming?” I whispered soft enough, that it might as well have been an inner thought. My hand slowly reached for the foreign object. I was lightly shaking with anticipation and fear. I studied its strange appearance as my arm stretched out for it.

  It was only the size of a matchbook. Its sides were rounded and smooth. It had to be a rock or gemstone, but its shape gave me the impression that it had been molded or shaped to its current form. It had no color because it contained all of them. My mind knew that wasn’t possible, but it sparkled every color I had ever seen. It even gleamed with a few colors I never knew existed, never imagined. As soon as my eyes could focus on one color, it would switch to another as if the color before it was never there. The sight was maddening and beautiful at the same time.