Until we stepped inside. While kids were there as usual—raiding their lockers, walking to class—
unlike usual, the halls were deathly quiet. Eyes were cast downward and movements were hurried, wary.
“Dang,” I said, suddenly uncomfortable. “Is there a new no-talking rule in the halls?”
“I hope not,” Brooklyn said, reading a text on her phone as we wound through the stoic crowd. “Your grandmother says hey.”
“She’s texting you now too? That woman is a menace.”
“She’s funny,” Cameron said, sticking to us like a Post-it note. He took his job as protector very seriously.
“I’m glad you think so.”
Spotting Hector Salazar, a kid I’d known since kindergarten, leaning against his red locker, I waved a quick hello. He was a bona fide nerd and proud of it to the point of arrogance, but I never held it against him. He was smart. He knew it. Who was I to argue? Super smart or not, though, he usually waved back.
Instead, he lowered his head and stared at me, his gaze expressionless.
“What the heck did I do to Hector?” I asked no one in particular.
“What?” Brooke barely looked up from her phone, but Cameron took hold of my arm and pulled me to a stop. He was really strong. Like supernaturally strong. So I stopped fairly quickly.
“What did you say?” he asked.
I looked up in surprise as Brooke turned back to us and Jared came closer to hover and stare menacingly at Cameron.
Suddenly self-conscious, I said, “Hector gave me a really odd look.”
Cameron straightened and eyed the crowd from his perch atop his shoulders. Man, that guy was tall.
“What kind of look?”
Jared did the same before giving me his attention again.
“A look. I don’t know. I waved and he just stared.” I lifted a shoulder. “I haven’t done a thing to him since the first grade. And that was totally his fault. I mean, I’m all for sharing, but there’s sharing and then there’s robbing your classmates blind.”
Brooke laughed. “What did he want from you?”
“My blue construction paper. All of it. Honestly. It’s not like construction paper grows on trees.”
Cameron appraised the crowd before parking his gaze on Jared. Jared returned the sentiment and the glower-fest began anew.
I elbowed Brooke and she glanced up to take in the stare-down before questioning me with raised brows.
While Cameron’s eyes were filled with uncertainty, Jared’s were narrow, challenging. Again, it was so unlike him and, well, more like Cameron. Their roles had been switched. What on former planet Pluto was going on?
“Where’s Glitch?” Brooke asked, checking around.
“He had to go straight to class,” Cameron said before stalking past us.
We followed. “Really? He didn’t say anything.”
“I don’t see the new kid. Let’s just get you to science.” Normally, getting to class was not one of
Cameron’s priorities.
The boys seemed to be lost in thought as they walked us to first hour. We stopped outside the classroom, and I turned to say good-bye to them. Well, mostly to Jared. I wondered if there was a chance
I could see what had actually happened to him.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” I asked him, inching closer.
His smile faltered and he camouflaged any emotion behind an empty expression. “I’m certain of it.”
“Can you tell me what’s going on?”
He crossed his arms at his chest. “No.”
I leaned forward and put my hand on his. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He raked his teeth over his bottom lip and stared intently. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen. Then, with his beautiful mouth tilted up at one corner, a playful grin sparkling in his eyes, he asked, “Are you getting anything?”
I dropped my hand and rolled my eyes.
A deep laugh, soft and gorgeous, sounded in his chest.
“How do you always know?” I exhaled loudly and gave up. “Never mind.”
He took my jacket and pulled me closer to him. “You’re giving up?”
The world tumbled in my periphery, dissolved into nothing. “No.” Then when I could catch my breath, I said, “Never.”
“We need to get to class,” Cameron said, completely breaking the spell I was under.
We turned in unison to look at him. Mostly because he was standing really close.
Brooke stepped closer as well, shouldering between Cameron and Jared. “Are we in a huddle for a reason?” She glanced at each one of us in turn. “I don’t want to be left out of the loop.”
Jared’s mouth softened into a breathtaking grin. He reached over Brooke and shoved Cameron backwards. Not hard, just enough to let Cameron know he was not welcome.
But Cameron came back. He leaned closer and said, “I’m not leaving until you do, reaper.”
“I’ll see you later,” Jared said. “I’d hate for blondie to stroke.”
Cameron scoffed and stepped back, waiting for Jared to follow.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” I asked.
“Not until I know more.”
“Fine.” I shooed him away with both hands. “Get to class. History awaits.”
He laughed. “I don’t think Mr. Burke likes me.”
“That might change if you’d stop correcting him.”
He raised his hands helplessly. “Your history books are full of errors. I’m just trying to help.”
In science, the class was studying the effects of sugar on cellular structure. I was studying the effects of
Jared’s presence on my nervous system. It was kind of scientific. Jared was the stimulus and I was the test subject. Oddly enough, every time the stimulus was presented, the test subject’s cells flooded with adrenaline. Clearly it was a valid test. I should publish.
But I couldn’t help but wonder what had happened exactly. It would take something very powerful to bring down Jared. He was almost indestructible. Who could do that? What could do that? And his behavior was different. To deny that would be infantile.
But still. That grin.
I was busy replaying that grin of his in my mind for the seven thousandth time when I felt a sharp jab from behind. I sprang to attention. Ms. Mullins was standing in front of the classroom, her expression questioning, her gaze focused directly on me.
“Um, yes?”
She smiled. “You’re right, Lorelei. At least someone studied.”
When she turned back to her slide show, I sank back and rolled my eyes in relief.
Brooke leaned forward from the desk behind me. “Nice save.”
“I’m going to pass out your papers now,” Ms. Mullins continued, “and based on the scores I saw last night, I’m going to present you with a prediction: I predict that at least eighty percent of the class is going to fail the test on Friday if it doesn’t study. These scores leave a lot to be desired.”
When she got to me, she looked down in disappointment. “You can do better, Ms. McAlister.”
I scrunched farther into my seat and took the paper. My grade wasn’t horrible. I wouldn’t be grounded for a 78. But I would get a good talking-to. Mostly from Grandma. She freaking loved A’s. But I’d had a horrid vision that day when I brushed against a senior with bulimia. Surely that counted for something.
“Score!”
Brooke, another A freak, must have aced the assignment. Again. I turned back to her. “I’m totally copying next time.”
“I wouldn’t suggest it,” Ms. Mullins said, coming back through the aisle.
With a startled gasp, I glanced up at her, unable to curb the guilt in my expression fast enough. I laughed breathily instead, trying to recover. “Oh, right. I was just kidding.”
Her sparkling eyes crinkled with mischief before turning back to the class. “Okay, we have ten minutes. I suggest you use that time wisely.”