The Instinct by Taylor (iphone ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“Hey, Bud,” Pops smiled, landing a small punch on Devyn’s shoulder. She smiled half-heatedly as the screen door slammed behind her. “How was the library?”

“Hot,” Devyn breathed, suddenly aware of how suspicious she had looked. She hadn’t even bothered to stop by the library on the way home from Malcolm’s house and check out a stupid book. Instead, she sped right home, the gravel path crunching underneath her wheel.

Devyn collapsed onto the creaky green sofa in her living room and let the baseball cap fall into her green eyes. Her slightly darkened skin still looked pale and freckled, even in the dim light of the TV’s glow.

“What’s the score,” she asked, blowing a bubble with her gum and binding her dark red hair into a ponytail.

“Minnesota’s down four,” her dad scowled. What he really meant was, ‘Mauer is as good as always and everyone else needs to pick up the pace.’ For some reason, Devyn’s dad had a man-crush on Joe Mauer. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the guy was hot, and a baseball player, but her father’s interest was borderline stalker-ish. As long as Joe played for the Twins, her father was a loyal fan. He had the team’s stats memorized, not to mention every perfect play by Mauer himself.

She grinned and jumped from the couch, making her way into the kitchen. About to grab a water from the white, grooved refrigerator, Devyn caught sight of a half-assed attempt at food. Something yellow and seeming inedible sat in the pan on a burner, crusty and stuck to the sides.

“Pops,” she cried, maneuvering my way through their cluttered, narrow kitchen, “ what is this?”

Her dad chewed on his tongue for a moment, as if trying to remember. “Well, it’s either macaroni and cheese, or some mutant food poisoning bomb. I’m not sure yet.”

Cooking was not her father’s forte. He could easily burn ice cubes and freeze hot frying oil. Devyn sighed and set the inedible thing in the sink.

Sometimes, she worried about him. Without Mom, Pops was a breathing vegetable. He didn’t cook or clean, but didn’t force Devyn to do much either. He also seemed to be gender confused. It’s like he forgotten she had sprouted breasts and curves and got her period, and that Devyn was supposed to be hanging out with girls her age instead of watching NBA all night with the old man. He seemed to think she would stay his little, tomboy Bud forever.

“Bring me another cold one, Bud,” he called from his recliner, his eyes glued to the screen as Joe was up to bat. Devyn smirked to herself and grabbed a Budweiser from the fridge shelf.

“So, are you excited about school? I mean it‘s only been the first couple of weeks, but that‘s when it‘s the best,” he insisted as a Progressive commercial appeared on the screen. She tried to focus on the red of Flo’s lipstick. He grabbed the can mid air as she tossed it, popping open the tab and taking a quick gulp.

“I guess,” Devyn shrugged. No. She was not excited at all. Being the motherless, tomboy-freak at her school was not something to be excited about. Halfway through the year, most of the dumb blond cheerleaders just realize she’s not a boy, and that she doesn’t wear makeup because it’s a sign of weak femininity. And also because eyeliner kind of scared her.

“Hey, isn’t junior year supposed to be the second best year of your life?” Her dad raised a dark brow teasingly and scratched at the five o’clock shadow creeping across his cheek.

“Yeah, spending another ten months with people who don’t even know how to spell my name sounds awesome,” she muttered sarcastically, glad her dad was tuned back into the game. Devyn knew for a fact that if her father found out how unhappy she really was, he’d think it’s his fault. And maybe in some way it was.

After her mom died, Devyn’s dad moved them back to Union, population three-hundred-and-two. He had grown up in Union and figured she’d like it here. He was wrong.

Devyn hated it. She hated the stupid high school, where they only had about sixty kids in each grade. She hated the stupid diner on Main Street, where she and her dad would usually eat dinner and Rhonda would make Devyn her regular strawberry shake with extra whipped cream. She hated their house, which was small and cramped and way too hot in the summer, and then way too cold in the winter. And she especially hated the boys.

Boys at Union-Lakeridge High were like another species all together. They weren’t the kind of guys who helped elderly ladies cross the street or donate to their local food drives in December. They were the kind of party-hard, pig-headed, rich guys who have nothing better to do with their time than get drunk and have parties.

And I’m not saying that all the guys were bad, just most. Especially Malcolm. But, hey, beggars can’t be choosers.

As Devyn watched the Twins score another point, the Oriels up by only two now, she smiled. So maybe she was unhappy, and maybe she hated the guys, but as long as Joe Mauer played and the Oriels lost, her dad was content. And maybe that was enough for her.

~~~

Malcolm placed a tiny kiss on her temple, making her close her eyes and smile to herself. Smiling with him felt almost natural.

“Devyn,” he murmured, his chest rising and lowering with ease,” your second toe is longer than your first.” The smile fell from the girl’s face.

“So,” she scoffed, instantly feeling self-conscience. Devyn thought of all the things she could say about his hairy chest and dog-crap breath.

“It’s weird,” he said flatly. She rolled her eyes but wiggled her toes. Her dad said it was cute. He said she had cute little monkey feet. Then again, weren’t parents supposed to tell you you’re cute?

“Oh.”

Suddenly, the back seat of Malcolm’s car was not romantic, with slow music playing softly in the background and the cool August heat making the air slightly warm. Instead of feeling cozy, Devyn felt sweltering. Like someone had set a match to her. Sweat dripped from her half-naked body, and she pulled the hair off the back of her neck, damp pieces cool against her warm fingers.

Their position was rapidly awkward, even more so than the first time they had hooked up- underneath one of the tipped over canoes after sneaking out of camp after dark. Sand had been riding up her butt, and the whole time Devyn was afraid the canoe would tip over and expose them.

In the backseat of his Lincoln, she rested half on his chest, her dark red hair splayed out around her, and half dangled off the edge of the backseat, as one of the buckles dug into her side.

“Devyn,” he said after a while, “ you’re sweating a lot.”

Devyn grit her teeth and sat up. She was

sweating a lot, but he didn’t need to point it out.

“I should go,” she said quietly, grabbing her shirt off the floor, careful of all the debris and garbage underneath. It seemed quite possible that something had burrowed under his seat and died, because it smelled foul.

“But, Dev, babe, you promised me a b-”

“I can’t. Maybe next time,” Devyn insisted hurriedly, slipping on her shorts and stumbling out of the hot car. The fresh lake air felt like… well, a breath of fresh air. The cool moonlight made the lake glimmer and sparkle, and there wasn’t a star in the sky. Dark pine trees shadowed the pebbly path that she had used to ride her bike, a dusty purple thing with a stupid bell that dinged annoyingly whenever she hit a rough patch of rocks.

“Devyn,” Malcolm whined as he struggled to get his pants off the ground. She ignored the annoying jingle of change in his pocket and mustered a half-smile.

“I promise, next time. I told the old man I’d watch the game with him tonight… I’m sorry,” Devyn said, her voice lowering slightly.

“Baseball is more important than me,” he scoffed, his golden brows crinkling together. Devyn had never noticed the few hairs that combed together and formed a small, once insignificant uni-brow. She also never noticed how squinty his eyes got when he whined. He sort of reminded her of a rat. A furry, whiney, uni-browed rat.

“Sorry, babe. I-I’ll see you tomorrow,” she promised, leaning forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. Once he tried to slip his slimy tongue in between her lips, she pulled away and grabbed onto the left handle bar of her bike. Devyn hopped on and pedaled hard, not looking back once. She should have.

She didn’t think it was odd when the sun set faster than usual, and the full moon peeked out from behind the pines making the path glow with white light. The path grew darker and darker though, as she traveled further along. The tees grew thicker and the wind whipped her dark red hair in her face as she hurried, her heart beating faster as her nervousness grew.

And then, she stopped. The wind howled in her ears and she stared at the form on the ground in front of her. She realized too late that it was a deer carcass. A man, with pale skin as white as the moon, stood before her. His thin ruby red lips curled into a sickening smile, revealing sharp pointer teeth.

Devyn stood there frozen, her long legs steadying the bike, her heart hammering in her chest and her lungs pumping for air. She was breathless and trembling slightly as the man took a step towards her. Black clothing stretched across his broad shoulders and his skin seemed to glitter in the moonlight. Suddenly, he was very close. His long, ragged finger nails scraped against the skin on Devyn’s forearm, his hands chilling to the touch.

“Hello,” he said in an alluringly sweet voice.

“H-Hi,” she breathed, her chest heaving. Her heart was beating so quickly, and the man kept his gaze on her throbbing neck.

“Aren’t you going a little fast,” he asked, his eyes twinkling in the dull moonlight. They were soulless and black.

“I-I have to get home,” she insisted, every bone in her body screaming for her to run. She didn’t break his eye contact and tried to keep her voice from wavering as she gripped the handlebars of her bike tighter.

“Nonsense,” the man insisted, shaking his head, “Maeve, dear, I believe we have a dinner guest.”

And that’s when Devyn Brown screamed, and breathed her last breath.

~~~

Shane Books shook as he sat on the couch. He had heard her scream. It sent shivers up his arm and down his spine and through his body.

“Shane, she’s fine. Piper‘s taking care of her now,” Gabriel insisted, touching his friend’s arm lightly. Shane jumped.

“Yeah, stop being such a chick. I’m sure she’s okay,” Samuel, Shane’s cousin, added. Gabriel glared at him from over his shoulder.

“What if she dies? What if it doesn’t work?”

“It will