"like sands through the hourglass so are the...Days of our Lives"

Christyne's

"The Teens" Fan Fiction Site

Chapter 5

"Hey, beautiful."

Chloe rubbed her drowsy eyes and saw that her bedside clock read 10:49PM.  "Philip?"

"Did I wake you?"

"Yeah, I decided to turn in early tonight."  With the phone resting between her ear and shoulder, she sat up in bed to put on her glasses.  Her chilled hand ran through her hair.

"Was there a lot to do at Mimi’s today?"  Chloe heard him toss a ball back and forth, as he often did, when he called her.

"Yeah, I guess."  And suddenly, she found her mind blank.  Panicked, she felt a moment of silence.  "How are you—how’s that sniffle?" she blurted.

"Oh, I’m alright now.  Henderson fed me some concoction and made me gargle orange juice.  I almost choked, but I’m feeling fine now."  When she said nothing, no sexy laugh or inquisitive remark, he asked, "Chloe, is everything alright?"

Her eyes filled unexpectedly.  "Yeah, I’m just tired, I guess."  She closed her eyes and wondered what the hell was wrong with her.  "Um, could we talk tomorrow, Philip?  I’m really sleepy."

"Uh, sure.  Get some rest, alright?"

"Good night, Philip."

"Night, beautiful."

Uneasiness seeped into her heart, as she set the phone down.  Her fingers bumped into her glasses, when she tried to wipe away the tears.  She pulled her glasses off to study them.

The chick would’ve saved herself a lot of tears, if she’d kept a safe distance.

She had the sudden urge to fling her glasses against the wall.  Instead, she set them back on her nightstand.  She sunk under her covers and hugged a pillow to her.

In the end, he still let her down.  She still got burned.

She forced her eyes shut and prayed for sleep.

She felt his strong arms and warmth engulf her.  She sighed into his smooth neck, as he rained feather-light kisses on her cheek, ear, and neck.  His fingertips ran from hip to waist to rib, as she realized she was naked against him.  One part of her wanted to pull away and run for cover, but the other clung to him, exhilarated in the freedom.  She lifted her lips to him for a kiss.

Suddenly, the murky water closed in around her.  Alone in deafening silence, she struggled for air, uncertain without the sunlight to guide her to the surface.  She clawed and clawed in vain.  The water only grew darker and thicker.  Her muscles cried in exhaustion, as doom sunk into her soul.

Somewhere Philip called out for her.

A searing pair of blue eyes was the last thing she saw, as she sunk endlessly into the abyss.

Gasping for air, Chloe awoke, clawing the sheets.  Her hands trembled violently, as she reached for the bedside lamp.  She drew her knees to her chest and hugged herself into a ball. And sobbed and sobbed.

*****

"Hey, have you seen Chloe today?" asked Philip, after bumping into Shawn in the lunch line.

"Aw, man, processed fish sticks.  Grandpa would have some ugly Irish names for those."  Shawn shook his head in disgust.  "What?  Oh, yeah, Chloe.  Naw, man.  Didn’t you see her at her locker this morning?  Like every morning," grinned Shawn.

But his friend was without the usual Kiriakis retort.  Philip’s eyes scoured the cafeteria, ending at their table in the corner.  Belle was chatting cheerfully with a classmate, while Mimi looked on with some envy.  But no Chloe.

Shawn laid a brotherly hand on his shoulder, interrupting Philip’s thoughts.  "Hey, is everything alright?  Cuz you’re obsessing, man."

Philip’s brows drew together.  Maybe he was.  Most guys, observed Philip, as Jason flirted with some buxom cheerleader, took dating in stride.  Guys figured, they were young and had plenty of time to play the field.  Girls, on the other hand, were the ones, who analyzed, reanalyzed, and overanalyzed dating.  Females pondered the meaning of every smile, look, and stray hair particle, while typical males said, "what the hell," and took life and girls as they came.  As the crown prince of Salem High, Philip certainly did.  Before Chloe.

He averted Shawn’s inquiring eyes by turning to buy his lunch.  He couldn’t explain to Shawn, to any guy, first, his genuine and deep feelings for Chloe, and now… a frightening tingle in the back of his neck.  He ran a nervous hand over it, as he made his way toward their table.  At first, like any male, he’d tried to shrug it off.  That day in the park when she suddenly pulled away and cried with no explanation, he’d felt it.  That tearful phone call in the middle of the night.  Again, no explanation, and again, he’d tried to shrug it off.  He’d been so proud of himself for comforting her.  He’d been her protector and fought off the tears with playful machismo.  But last night, she didn’t want to talk to him.

Completely uninterested in the offensive fish sticks, he jabbed at the ice in his drink.  Under normal circumstances, he could almost laugh at himself.  After he’d hung up last night, tossing his football around, it dawned on him.  She hadn’t wanted to talk to him.  He’d tried to shrug it off, called himself whipped for overanalyzing.  Chloe was just tired, that’s all.  The more he fought to push the thought aside, the more the conversation haunted him.

"…yeah, I’m just tired, I guess…Um, could we talk tomorrow, Philip?  I’m really sleepy…"

She’d brushed him off.  Like Ghoul Girl did to Philip the Jerk.

Then, this morning she hadn’t met him at her locker, like she always did.

"Maybe, you’re wasting your time with me, Philip."

Philip shook his head.  Get a grip, Kiriakis.  Now, you’re obsessing.  He deliberately directed his thoughts to that first kiss.  On her front porch, under the stars.  He’d always thought Chloe mysterious with fathoms of intoxicating depth. But somehow she radiated in moonlight.  At the Last Blast, even beneath that lilymonster cloak, her enchantress eyes glowed.  Then, while she dazed him with those eyes and that body, she could cite the stats of every worthwhile pro baseball team.  She could sing with such passion that had his own opera-illiterate ears awestruck.  To her, Multivariable Calculus was slick and easy like water off a duck’s back; for him, x and y were abused and misunderstood alphabets.  But somehow, something in Chloe Lane clicked blissfully with Philip Kiriakis.  He confided in her in a way that he never had with anyone else.  He wanted her in a way that humbled him – him, son of the most powerful man in Salem.

They’d come so far from when she first came to Salem, and most of time, being with Chloe made him happier than he’s ever been.   But still he felt it – that chilly premonition that creeps from behind.  If his father taught him anything, a Kiriakis never takes a thing for granted, because regardless of accumulated fortunes, complacence only made the fall that much more debilitating.

The mention of Chloe’s name brought him out of his ponderings.

"What about Chloe?" asked Philip belatedly.

Belle smirked.  "Why, Philip, I’m glad you’ve rejoined the world of the living.  I was saying that Friday’s going to be Chloe’s big swimwear debut.  We’ll shop ‘til we drop, until we find something that’ll top the Last Blast."

"That’ll send him into cardiac arrest," joked Shawn.

"You’re going to see Chloe today, Belle?" asked an intense Philip.

"Yeah, we’re meeting at Salem Place after school, before going over to Mimi’s house."

"Can I tag along?"

The table turned utterly silent.

Shawn resisted smacking his forehead in male horror.  "Oh, boy."

"You want to go shopping with Belle and Chloe?" asked a confused Mimi.

"Yeah," Philip managed a nonchalant shrug, "Why not?  You might need a guy’s opinion, right?"

"Oh, I get it," grinned Shawn, throwing a conspiring arm around his buddy’s shoulders, "You just wanna help Chloe, no matter how many bikinis she has to model in front of you."

Mimi rolled her eyes.  Belle giggled.

As he stole a look at Belle, Shawn couldn’t believe that he hadn’t thought of it himself.

"Well, I just happen to need to pick up some stuff from Salem Place."  After all, one could never have enough batteries, Shawn decided.  "Why don’t I meet you guys there?"

Belle shook her head in bewilderment.  "Sure, let’s make a party of it.  Mimi, wanna come?"

Mimi considered an afternoon of watching two boys drool over Belle and Chloe.  And thought better of it.  "Um, I don’t think so.  I’ve got a monster paper due next week and need to do some serious reading."

*****

At Salem Place, Chloe waited patiently on a bench.  The biting chill warned of early snow.  Despite the frigid weather, the outdoor shopping center enjoyed a steady stream of patrons, bundled in fleece, leather, and wool.  With a steaming cup of cocoa, hand-knitted scarf, and powder blue earmuffs, Chloe enjoyed a sunny winter day in Salem.  She sat before the mosaic Salem Place fountain, which had been drained for the coming winter.  After nearly a year, she experienced all of Salem’s seasons and knew virtually every street and turn.  Salem had become her home.

She watched for her friend and prepared for a dizzying afternoon of shopping – at warp Belle.  Chloe smiled.  It never failed to amaze her to finally have close friends to spend time with.  To have a boyfriend to…

Suddenly, she felt cold.  This time she remembered every detail of her dream.  The embracing bliss, before the suffocating terror.  A reminder of past behavior and their consequences. 

Why couldn’t it all be simple?  She watched a young couple huddled over a café table, engaged in intimate conversation.  The girl reached over to warm his reddened ears.  Then, Chloe turned and saw an elderly couple, fingers interlaced, strolling contently from store window to store window.

Chloe look down at her own hands.  They’d grown long and graceful since childhood.  These once chubby hands had scrubbed the floor of an abusive or neglectful foster family.  Ever since she could remember, she wished desperately her mother would come for her.  She imagined she’d be perfectly kind and beautiful.  Her real mommy would tuck her in at night with fairy tales, kiss her hurts, brush her hair, and sneak extra cookies in her lunchbox.  Such simple mommy things that she’d seen in books, movies, and mornings at school.  But such things were not meant to be and her mother never came.  Not until she’d grown old enough to know that fairy tales weren’t real and the world was unkind more often than not.  She could only depend on herself, because if she couldn’t trust her own mother, who could she trust?  Now there was Belle, Shawn, and Philip.  Philip.

Someone tapped her from behind.  Assuming the shopping queen had finally arrived, she drummed up a welcoming smile, but turned to face a searing pair of blue eyes.

"We meet again, Signorina."

Speechless, she rose, unsure of what to do.

Used to being treated with suspicion, Brady took a seat on the bench.  He figured that she’d be less intimidated, if he were smaller.  "Chill, ok?  I just wanted to say the Puccini on the pier was nice."

Chloe tilted her head, baffled.  "You’re a very strange person."

"Because I like opera or because I’m not a serial killer?"

Chloe tilted her head again, now in scrutiny.  "Because you know opera and because you look like a serial killer."

To Chloe’s astonishment, he laughed.  In that instant, the sullen, world-weary man transformed into a dazzling, engaging boy.

*****

Belle arrived to find Shawn and Philip before a computer store window, lusting after the newest video games.  Boys, she sighed.

"Hi, guys.  I guess, we know what you’ll be doing for the rest of the afternoon."  Belle gestured to the latest game system on display, which already had eager kids playing to save the universe.  She assumed that video game addicts, like Shawn and Philip, couldn’t resist a match.  "I’ve got to meet Chloe, so you guys have fun."

"Wait, I’m tagging along remember?" reminded Philip.

"Well, I bow to peer pressure.  I’m coming, too," grinned Shawn.

Shaking her head at their bizarre behavior, she headed with the boys in tow to meet Chloe.  They spotted her standing near the fountain.  Philip nearly stopped in tracks, when he saw that she was talking with a blond guy in leather.  The guy laughed at something she’d said and she let a trace of a smile bloom into a soft laugh.  Something churned in his gut, but he didn’t recognize it as jealousy.

"Hey, who’s that guy Chloe’s talking to?" asked Shawn cautiously, ready to hold back the signature Kiriakis temper from making a fool of himself.