Spirit Traveler

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 3 (v.1)

Submitted: July 30, 2012

Reads: 34

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Submitted: July 30, 2012



I unlocked the apartment door, dumping my bag and purse and kicked off my boots. I went into the kitchen to find the note I looked for every night.


There's stuff in the fridge. Mac n' cheese in the cabinet and if you could run down to the liquor store and pick up some beer for Gavin,he'll be stopping by tonight after work. Thanks,


No 'I love you', 'How was your day', just 'Thanks' as if I was a roommate. I sighed, throwing the note away and opening the fridge. She lied.

Guess it's Mac n' cheese.

“Mr. Qin,” I smiled, setting the case of beer on the counter. He sighed, looking at me. I pulled out my fake ID and flashed it for the camera's. He know I was only 18, but he also knew that I wasn't the one who drank it.

“Miss Coleman,” he said, ringing up the purchase and taking the money I handed him.

“How's Mrs.?”

“Fine,” he chirped, “Mrs. Coleman?”


“Here, have nice day,” he said, smiling. I smiled, grabbing the bag and exiting as fast as possible. I stepped out into the sunlight, deciding whether or not I should walk through the park with a case of beer. I opted not to and turned to stand at the bus stop. I took off my sweater, wrapped around the case and stood, waiting.

The bus took forever, the ride home took forever and the long walk up 3 flights of stairs took forever. By the time I got home, unpacked all the beer into the fridge, finished up the last of my homework it was 7, my mother was burst through the door, laughing.

“Oh, hey, Mom.”

“And then she was like...” her voice trailed off as she disappeared into the bedroom. Gavin opened the fridge, opened a beer and stood there, staring at me.


“Always such a good girl, buying beer for me,” he growled. The man had an impossibly deep voice. The man, with the impossibly deep voice, also creeped me out.

“Well, I try. Though sometimes, my mouth gets the better of me,” I retorted, my voice dripped with attitude. I cleaned up my books, stuffed them back in my bag and crossed the room to my bedroom. He reached out, ripped the bag out of my hands. The opened bag spilled onto the floor, papers flying everywhere. I stared at it in disbelief.

“Next time, try to control your mouth. Or I'll have to control it for you,” he growled and disappeared into my mother's bedroom. I closed my eyes, sinking to the floor blindly. I sat there for a moment, wondering how my day had gone from okay to horrid in a few hours. I opened my eyes, decided to just gather up the papers and sort them in my room.

The phone rang just as I began, giving me an excuse to leave them for a moment. I rushed to the phone on the wall and answered.


“Uh, hello, is Myla Cole there?”

“Yes, who is this?”

“Uh, her teacher...”

“Hudson?” I asked in disbelief.

“Oh, Myla, yeah it's me.”

“How'd you get my number?
“I'm a teacher, I have access to files,” he said, sounding uncomfortable. I imagined him staning and looking at the ceiling has he said that.

“Oh,” I cleared my throat, peeking at my mother's door. Closed.

“Anyways, I was wondering if...if...”

“Hudson, about earlier...what I said in response to the accusations. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make things awkward and I know it was probably not what you wanted to hear so-”

“Myla that's why I'm calling. Can we meet somewhere. I know you live far from the school, so is there any coffee shops or restaurants around you.”

I sat in silence.

My wildest dream was coming true. I opened my mouth, blanking.

“Uh, yeah, there's one on the corner of my block that's open till 10.”

“Okay, great. Meet there in 15 minutes?”

“Yeah sure,” I said and he hung up, leaving me holding a phone. I quickly hung up the phone, scooped up the papers and entered my room. I dumped the bag and papers on my bed, opened my closet and stared into it.

I looked across the room at the only mirror I owned. Thankfully it was a fully body mirror. I always mentally thanked the gods for that one. I made a face and tore off the shirt. I dug through my drawers for a red tank. I changed for my black sweats to skinny jeans and brushed out my hair. I touched up my foundation, strung on the necklaces and skipped on black flip flops. It was the best I had and in 15 minutes, this is what he was getting.

I grabbed a purse and stuffed some money into it along with my fake ID. I opened my bedroom door and almost screamed.


“Where you going?”

“Out with my friend Miriam. We're going to the coffee house on the corner.”

“Who's Miriam?”

“A tutoring buddy. I forgot some papers from today's group session so she's bring them to me. I have to get going,” I said ducking under his arm.

“Be back before 9,” he said.

“I'll try.”

“No, you'll be back before 9 or your mama's bed isn't the only one I'll be visiting,” he whispered, his face inches from mine. Fear raced down my spine at the thought of him on top of me.

“I'll be back before 9,” I whispered and ripped away from him.

I sat at a table, a cup of coffee between my hands. 15 minutes.

Maybe he got lost.

Or decided not to come and was trying to call my home phone.


“Hudson,” I said, standing.

“Sorry I'm late, I kinda got lost.”

“It's alright,” I laughed, sitting back down with him.

“What's that,” he asked, looking at my cup.

“Just coffee.”



“I want to know why you don't call me Mr. Hudson and just Hudson.”

“Because you don't look like a Mr. Like an old teacher. Hudson just fits you better. All the kids all you Hudson,” I said, looking at him strangely.

“Yeah, but you were the first.”

“Look, I'm not sure exactly why I'm here. In reality, what I said meant nothing. Just a sarcastic slip.”

“But see, I don't think it was,” his glaze was painful. I looked away, reminding myself to breath. Sometimes, he was almost to handsome to look at. It's a pain girls had to go through school with him as a teacher.

“What do you want?”

“I want...” he sighed, leaning back and letting me breath without having to force myself too. I sipped my coffee.

“I want to know whether or not you want it to have meant something,” he finally finished. Shocked at the fact that this was not how I pictured this conversation. I cleared my throat, unsure whether or not the truth would matter. If I lied, it would be safe for both of us. If I didn't, he could purse me and go to jail or whatever happens to womanizing teachers. Who happen to look like models.

“I-” but before I could continue, another teacher came into the coffee shop. Miss Blanche. I cursed and grabbed a magazine. Hudson looked behind him and saw her too. I jumped up, spinning towards the windows and heading for the bathroom. Leaving Hudson to pretend like he belonged there by himself. I felt her see him and cringed. I went into the bathroom, counted to 10 and came back out.

Hudson was drinking my coffee and sitting across from Miss Blanche. I stopped, my foot suspended as I took in that view. Hudson glanced at me, seeing my expression. Miss Blanche, nosy as ever, turned to see me as well.

“Myla!” she said, surprise crossing her face. I broke free from my trance and smiled.

“Miss Blanche, Mr. Hudson, what ever you two doing here?” I asked, coming closer. The Mr. was noticed.

“Oh, nothing, we just ran into each other,” she blushes. I wanted to slap her.

“Oh, well, I just ran in here to use the restroom. I best be going. I'll see both Monday,” I said, smiling at Miss Blanche. She nodded, smiling back. I glanced at Hudson, my smile fading before I continued through the small shop and out onto the street. I hurried up the street, into my building and up the three flights of stairs. I entered the apartment and headed for my room. Gavin sat on the couch, enjoying his 5th beer or whatever and watching TV.

“I'm back before 9,” I said and slammed my bedroom door.

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