‘The Sleepless Knights’ Excerpt
Photographer - Tobi Brun
The Sleepless Knights
“...I’m Cayden. Cayden Donnelly.” He held out his hand.
“I know who you are.” She hesitated before giving him a lightning quick handshake.
She wanted to pinch herself since the only time and place she confidently talked to a boy was in her dreams, especially a boy so effortlessly cool and out of reach. His features were like a work of art - each detail carefully crafted with precision. The stubble on his jawline, his tousled chestnut hair, and his piercing hazel eyes gave off an air of mystery and danger. Despite his intimidating appearance, she couldn't help but be drawn to his raw attractiveness. He wore tight Levi's that hugged his muscular legs, a slightly worn black leather jacket, and a gold chain around his neck. A white t-shirt peeked out from under the jacket, completing his edgy look. Maeve's hazel eyes paled in comparison to his striking gaze - they were like the leaves just before they turned in the crisp autumn air. As she spoke to him, she couldn't help but feel a sense of both exhilaration and unease, knowing that this boy was completely unattainable but also dangerously alluring.
“I never caught your name.”
“That’s because I didn’t throw it, James.”
“James?”
“As in Dean.”
“Oh yeah, nice!” He smiled and nodded with pride.
You listen to our music?”
“If it pops up on the radio. Can’t say I’ve added you guys to one of my mix tapes yet.”
“So what do you usually listen to? No wait, don’t tell me..The Bangles, or Tiffany, right?”
She wasn’t surprised he named a popular girl rock band and a solo singer, both of whom played religiously at the roller skating rink that she and Rhiannon frequented.
“They’re okay..if you need something to dance to. But growing up in my house you have to be into hard rock, the longer the hair the better. At least that’s what it used to be,” she finished under her breath.
“That’s cool. My dad was a hippie, so everything he listened to required tie-dye and acid trips.”
Maeve nervously shuffled through the stack of papers sitting on the counter, her mind racing as she tried to come up with something interesting to say. She couldn't shake the feeling that the more she spoke, the more evident her lack of conversation skills would become. In an attempt to fill the awkward silence, she began tapping her fingers on the table and whistling along to a tune playing in her head. Her eyes darted around, searching for inspiration or distraction from the handsome man sitting across from her. He was a member of a rapidly rising band, destined for Bon Jovi-level stardom, and Maeve felt intimidated by his presence. What could she possibly say to impress him? But she couldn't deny the fluttering in her stomach every time their eyes met or the way his lips curved into a smile when she spoke. As much as she wanted to make a lasting impression on this hot musician, deep down, she knew that once he left, any words or actions on her part would fade from his memory like a fleeting melody.
“So..do you like working here?”
“It’s okay. Gives me plenty of time to myself since what you see is what you get as far as customers,” she waved her hands around the empty store.
“Must get kind of boring though, huh?”
“I’m alone a lot but rarely bored.”
“Ha, sometimes I wish I knew what being alone is like. When you’re on the road with your five brothers, and you can barely run into a Dunkin Donuts without getting bombarded by screaming girls, you don’t get many quiet moments.” He smiled but she could tell he was only half joking.
“Awww, what’s the matter? Too much Aqua Net and frosted lipstick for your tastes,” she quipped, offering him a stick of Juicy Fruit which he accepted.
“Definitely,” he chuckled.
“Well, trust me, unless you like boardwalk games and Pork Roll, egg, and cheese, don’t bother with a Jersey girl.” She was only half kidding.
“Ah, the classic debate of pork roll versus Taylor ham, and let’s not forget the iconic boardwalks and diners of New Jersey. I understand completely. Being Irish and from New England, people often assume I'm a heavy drinker who eats clam chowder all day.”
“Do you ever get asked if you’re a Kennedy?” she laughed.
“Not yet,” he smiled.
Even if she was in the midst of anger or sadness, his smile would be infectious. It spread like wildfire, lighting her up from within.
“So are you going to tell me your name, or are you going to leave me in suspense?” He spun a turning rack of calendars around, still trying to hide his presence from fans who may happen to pass by.
“If I tell you, you’re not going to stalk me are you? I mean, I know my intense allure is hard to resist,” she bantered. It was fifteen minutes to 9 pm, so Maeve used her key to bring the gate a quarter of the way down, a classic mall indicator of approaching closing time.
“So… do you like working here?”
“It’s okay. Gives me plenty of time to myself since what you see is what you get as far as customers,” she waved her hands around the empty store.
“Must get kind of boring though, huh?”
“I’m alone a lot but rarely bored.”
“Ha, sometimes I wish I knew what being alone is like. When you’re on the road with your five brothers, and you can barely run into a Dunkin Donuts without getting bombarded by screaming girls, you don’t get many quiet moments.” He smiled but she could tell he was only half joking.
“Awww, what’s the matter? Too much Aqua Net and frosted lipstick for your tastes,” she quipped, offering him a stick of Juicy Fruit which he accepted.
“Definitely,” he chuckled.
“Well, trust me, unless you like boardwalk games and Pork Roll, egg, and cheese, don’t bother with a Jersey girl.” She was only half kidding.
“Ah, the classic debate of pork roll versus Taylor ham and the iconic boardwalks and diners of New Jersey. I understand completely. Being Irish and from New England, people often assume I'm a heavy drinker who eats clam chowder all day.”
“Do you ever get asked if you’re a Kennedy?” she laughed.
“Not yet,” he smiled.
Even if she was in the midst of anger or sadness, his smile would be infectious. It spread like wildfire, lighting her up with warmth.
“So are you going to tell me your name, or are you going to leave me in suspense?” He spun a turning rack of calendars around, still trying to hide his presence from fans who may happen to pass by.
“If I tell you, you’re not going to stalk me are you? I mean, I know my intense allure is hard to resist,” she bantered. It was fifteen minutes to 9 pm, so Maeve used her key to bring the gate a quarter of the way down, a classic mall indicator of approaching closing time.
“A little too self-deprecating don’t you think?”
“I speak as I find, Mr. Donnelly,” she smirked. He followed her around the store closely as she straightened racks and shelves. With every step he took closer to her, she tried to take a step away.
“But what if others find you interesting?”
“I kind of don’t know what that’s like.”
“Well, I think you’re interesting.”
“But you don’t even know me.”
“Trust me, I know more than you think..I mean..I’ve been around plenty of girls like you.”
“Girls like me, huh? And what kind of girl is that?” Maeve's heart raced as she stared at the stranger in front of her. She could feel his penetrating gaze on her, and it made her skin tingle with anticipation. With a shaky hand, she opened the register and began counting bills, anything to keep a safe distance from him. But even as she tried to maintain her composure, she couldn't shake the feeling that he was dangerous, a seductive rock star who could lure any woman into his bed without even trying. Maeve wasn't the kind of girl who fell for those types. She was smart, sassy, and always kept her walls up - never letting anyone get too close. Guys didn’t want to be chased by a girl less exciting than a can of Tab soda.
But then he spoke, and his words hit her like a punch to the gut. He saw through her facade and recognized the fear and pain she kept hidden within herself.
“Smart, quirky, sarcastic, but closed off, like you’re always trying to hide from everything and everyone. But you don’t realize that..that you are…everything..to somebody.”
And just like that, everything changed. She couldn't move or speak, frozen in shock at his perceptive words. Her mind raced as she tried desperately to form a response, but all she could manage was a whispered “thank you”. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment as she struggled to hide her true feelings from this man who seemed to see right through her.
“And I guess you know me so well, huh?” Maeve finally answered, trying desperately not to smile as she counted coins.
“Of course I don’t know you. But let’s just say..I see a lot in people they don’t necessarily see in themselves.”
Tara Lesko is a Jersey born and raised special education teacher, professor, and writer whose work has appeared in The Comstock Review and NJ Bards. She is the author of Serotonin with a Side of Fries, please - a collection of poems and stories. Her second collection of poems is titled Let Us Keep Driving. Most recently, she published I Drank from the Garden Hose - a collection of Generation X/80's and 90's nostalgic stories and poems. Tara is a William Paterson University alum who studied under the tutelage of phenomenal poets and writers such as Rachel Wetzsteon, Timothy Liu, and Philip Cioffari. She is also an avid mixed media artist and miniature creator. Find her at www.facebook.com/taraannlesko or idrankfromthegardenhose.com
