by Tee, Marian
Other kids in the room hastily looked away when they were in danger of meeting my stunned gaze.
This might be the understatement of the year, but I thought I had just received my first lesson in public humiliation.
The rest of the morning was barely better. If I wasn’t being picked on by the Queen and her mindless, personality-deficient RS girls, I was being painfully and studiously ignored. Maybe Dyvian was right to be worried.
When lunch break came, I wasn’t really feeling hungry, but I still forced my feet to head to the cafeteria, too proud to do anything else. The food they served was surprisingly good even though the choices were not as diverse as I had hoped. Wasn’t Sanger High informed about the existence of low-fat yogurt, for instance, or pesto pasta?
Tray in hand, I paused a while to study the cafeteria. It was like living a scene straight out of a teen flick, and I played the usual underdog role. If I wanted this to end just like the movies—which meant winning over the entire school to my side and having a handsome guy in love with me in the end—the next thing I was supposed to do was look for the table where I could join social outcasts like me.
I spotted a match in seconds and headed toward it. With every step I took, the tables I passed were blanketed in silence, as if they had to concentrate real hard on me, hoping they’d find something new to gossip about.
I stubbornly focused my attention on my future friend, a slim redhead with creamy skin. She was exceedingly pretty, just as long as you didn’t mind the multiple piercings in her left ear and her intimidating all-black attire. She sort of looked like a young Catherine Zeta Jones with red hair and Goth fashion taste.
There could be no doubt about her lack of popularity. She was alone at the table, sitting right next to the trash bins, and being stared at. Oh, yes, unpopular with a capital U. We were so going to bond.
“Hi!” I tried not to sound so perky but failed. I was just too excited at the opportunity of finally having a new friend in school. Being unpopular was honestly draining my energy. “Could we share?”
The girl looked up. Her eyes were a beautiful shade of blue. When she spoke, I detected a faint accent in her tone. “I don’t own the table.”
Taking that as a yes, I sat next to her and pretended to ignore her raised eyebrow. Maybe I was pushing it, sitting BFF close, but I just badly needed a friend. My sister used to say I had a pathological need to make friends. Maybe she was right, but surely feeling friendly all the time wasn’t that bad, right?
I unwrapped my ham and egg sandwich. “So, what’s your next class?”
“History.” She went back to ignoring me.
I tried again. “I’m new here, by the way. You can call me Deli—”
“—but your full name is Delilah Winters. You come from Australia and you live with the Chevalier brothers,” the redhead ended. “You pissed off Melissa, the much-revered cheerleader captain of Sanger High, because she’s been after Lucian forever so she made sure this morning everyone knows you’re not one of her favorite people in the world.”
“You know Lucian?”
“Everyone knows who Lucian and Dyvian are. They come into town, maybe, once a week and everything practically comes to a standstill. Everyone even knows that you like to help Dyvian with that rock garden of his.”
Stunned at how much she, and apparently the rest of the school, knew about me, I sat back and said weakly, “Nice to meet you.”
The other girl stared at me before a smile slowly formed on her lips. “I’m Audrey, by the way.”
“Hello, Audrey.”
The smile widened. “Hello, Deli.” And then she laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“You.” Audrey’s eyes twinkled and it just showed how desperate I was for a friend when I actually welcomed the sight even if it did mean I was glad about someone laughing at me.
“What did I do?”
“It’s more like what you’re not doing. I’ve just told you that the most powerful girl in school virtually wants you dead—”
“What’s new,” I muttered under my breath, thinking about the Zekans attempt to massacre my entire family. Really, was there something about me that made me an ideal murder victim?
Audrey frowned. “What did you say?”
“Err—nothing.” Stress over my current status allowed the cafeteria noise to get to me, making my head pound again. The clanging and banging of forks and spoons seemed as loud as claps of thunder. I willed myself to relax and eliminate everything but Audrey’s voice.
Audrey lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “Well, anyway, here you are, acting all bright and happy.”
I put my half-eaten sandwich down and took a gulp of my orange juice. “I’m not bright and happy.” I forced myself to take another bite of sandwich and almost gagged. Being unpopular made me lose my entire appetite. “I just think it’s pointless to worry. And anyway, I’m sure things will get better in time.”
“Sure.” She rolled her eyes.
I looked at her curiously. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“What made you one of her least-favorite people in the world, too?”
Audrey’s mouth tightened. “Oh, that.”
Immediately regretting my impulsive question, I hastened to assure her, “You don’t have to answer. Who cares if we’re both unpopular, right?”
“You do,” The Voice pointed out resignedly.
“Hush,” I responded mentally. “It’s not polite to butt in when you’re not being spoken to.” I turned my attention back to Audrey and was relieved to see the hard expression on Audrey’s face easing a little.
“I guess.” After a few moments, she said slowly, “But I don’t think it would hurt to let you know.”
“You don’t have to—”
“You’ll find out sooner or later anyway. Everyone knows about it.”
I didn’t know what else to say to that so I simply kept quiet.
Audrey finished the last bite of her burger and wiped her mouth with tissue before speaking again. “It happened last year. I was going out with Matthew—he’s a jock. I’ll point out the jerk to you when I see him. I was totally shocked when he asked me to be his girlfriend. I wasn’t exactly Ms. Popular even back then, with how I look and, you know, how different I was. But then I found out about his little hobby so I had to break up with him.”
“He’s dating behind your back?”
“He’s doing drugs.”
“Oh.”
“Oh, indeed.” Irony tinged her words. “A social user I might tolerate but he couldn’t even pee without snorting a gram. So, I dumped him. His ego couldn’t handle it so he decided to tell the whole town I was a slut and the one with a hidden stash in my bedroom.” Audrey’s fingers curled. “The idiot was pretty thorough, actually. He even managed to hide a packet in my drawer—”
I impulsively took her hand, saying earnestly, “There must be a way to convince people—”
Audrey snatched her hand away, releasing a bitter laugh. “When my own parents believed him? They saw the stash and that was it.”
My mouth opened and closed. An uncomfortable moment of silence elapsed. “If it’s worth anything, I believe you. And if there’s any way I could help—”
“I’d appreciate it if you have your Chevaliers beat the hell out of Matthew,” Audrey quipped right away.
The tension between us broke and I giggled just as Audrey’s lips formed a tiny smile. “Just you point me in the right direction and I’ll have them kick his ass.”
The school bell rang then, and thanks to The Voice’s training and Audrey’s company, the sound barely hurt my ears. Audrey and I had the second period after lunch together so we decided to meet up in the hallway in an hour. Audrey headed to her history class while I proceeded to the music room.
It was a relief to see that neither the Queen nor her ladies were present. Music was tolerable as long as I exerted enough effort not to let the shrill notes from string
instruments get to me. Trigonometry with Audrey was a blast. The rest of the afternoon was fine. But just when I started to think everything was going to be all right, the Queen came back to ruin my mood.
Someone had slashed my tires and was thoughtful enough to stick a note under my wiper.
Welcome to Sanger High, bitch.
“Back atcha,” I mumbled, still a bit shell-shocked that someone would go this far just to let me know they didn’t like me. Couldn’t a text message do for them?
Footsteps from behind made me whirl around, surprising the guy walking toward me from the edge of the parking lot and disconcerting even me because I still wasn’t used to how good my hearing was these days. When I paid attention, that was.
“Problems?”
I gazed at him warily, the varsity jacket making him a potential RS boy. He could even be the detested Matthew, for all I knew.
He whistled when he caught sight of the tires. “That’s bad.”
“You think?”
His sheepish smile just made his attractive face cuter. “Do you need help?”
I debated with myself and for once, I decided to listen to my head. “It’s okay, I can take care of this.” I couldn’t let myself trust him. Well, at least not yet and not so soon.
He gave me a doubtful look. “Sure?”
I made my smile more reassuring. “Yes, but thanks for the offer.”
He dug his hands in his pockets, not seemingly inclined to leave. “You’re the new girl in school, right?”
I found myself smiling again. “You really don’t know?”
He laughed. “All right, I know. You’re Deli, right?”
“Yup.” I gave him a questioning look.
“Wesley.” He hesitated, shifting on his feet. “I guess I better go.”
It was then I realized in absolute surprise that he liked me. Or maybe the better word was that he was attracted to me. And he didn’t know what to do about it—either because of my run-in with Melissa or the fact that I was supposed to be Lucian’s girlfriend.
“You got that right,” The Voice said grimly.
I ignored that and smiled at Wesley. “See you tomorrow.”
“Really?” Wesley coughed. “I mean, right. See you tomorrow in school.” He began walking away backward. “Sorry about your tires. Are you sure—”
“It’s being taken care of,” I lied even though I still had no idea how to get home. When Wesley left, my despondency returned and I stared at the tires in frustration. It was only half past five, but the school’s parking lot was nearly deserted.
“I’m curious. How are you going to take care of it?”
I spun around in a gasp.
Dyvian grinned while Lucian simply gazed at me quizzically upon asking the question.
And without knowing why, I burst into tears.
“Deli.” Dyvian was quick to panic.
I cried harder. “What are you guys doing here?”
“We were worried about you,” Dyvian answered.
A pair of arms slowly came around me. I looked up and met Lucian’s wry smile. “Bad day?” His tone was still clinical, but this time, I knew him well enough to hear the slight thread of concern in it.
A teary laugh escaped me. “Not very, but it could have been better…and I like to cry. You know that.”
“I want to comfort Deli, too,” Dyvian declared almost plaintively and promptly pushed Lucian away to hug me so tightly my ribs were in danger of cracking.
That effectively put a stop to my tears and I burst into laughter.
Dyvian pulled away, grinning. He ruffled my hair. “Feel better now?”
“Quite. But the car—”
“Is being taken care of,” Lucian deadpanned.
My face scrunched into a grimace.
“A mechanic’s on the way. We called him while you were busy flirting with the football dude,” Dyvian explained.
“I wasn’t flirting.” I tiptoed to kiss both brothers on the cheek. “Thanks.” Dyvian took it in stride, but Lucian again froze when my lips made contact. I hid a smile and said brightly, “So, how do we get home?”
“We walk.”
I laughed. “No, really—”
“No, really, we walk.” Dyvian’s cheerful voice began to grate on my nerves.
“You honestly don’t mean that, right?”
Lucian raised a brow. “What’s wrong with walking?”
I couldn’t believe he even had to ask. I stuck one foot out. “Look,” I demanded. “Don’t you see what I’m wearing?”
“They’re very nice,” Lucian said politely.
“They’re not just nice. These are Jeffrey Campbell shoes, Lucian. Do you understand what that mean?”
“Jeffrey Campbell made them. So?”
I clutched my chest, unable to believe he could be so disrespectful about my shoes. “His shoes are so limited you’d have to sell your soul for them.” I raised affronted eyes to meet his. Lucian’s forest green eyes were still to die for, but their mesmerizing effect was temporarily muted by the sheer horror of his words.
“You can’t make me walk all the way home. You’re going to ruin them!”
“It’s not like we’re going to make you walk all the way to Kansas, Dorothy,” Dyvian teased.
“Ha-ha.” I shook my head. “I’m not going to walk.” Then my face brightened. “Why don’t we just fl—” Lucian’s hand immediately clapped over my mouth.
“Remember where you are.” He directed a meaningful gaze toward the other town folk loitering in the area. All of them were staring at us in great interest but quickly looked away upon meeting my gaze.
“You’ve been too at ease already with using words you should never speak outside home.”
Lucian took his hand away and I nodded. “Sorry. But can’t we do that instead?” I insisted in a whisper this time.
“Haven’t you forgotten? You’re grounded.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh, come on. You didn’t really mean it—”
“He did,” Dyvian chanted gleefully. “Really mean it.”
“Lucian.”
“If you don’t walk home with us, that’s your choice.” Lucian turned his back and began walking away. Dyvian simply shrugged and turned to walk away, too.
“You don’t mean that,” I cried out.
“I have to follow what big bro says, sorry.” Dyvian tossed the words over his shoulder.
Lucian didn’t even bother to answer.
I began to walk. “I won’t forget this, Lucian.”
Still no answer.
Gritting my teeth, I thought hard about how I could get back at Lucian, and after a while, I knew what I had to do. “I’ll also make sure everyone knows what a bad boyfriend you are to me.”
Lucian stumbled, which was enough for me.
Chapter Six
My second day of school, even if I didn’t actually get to class, taught me a valuable lesson—never ever let anything lull you into thinking Evren life could be in any way normal.
Breakfast was the typical Chevalier affair. Lucian pondered the state of the economy, Dyvian ate his food like there was no tomorrow, while I fussed over the way I looked.
“I have a question,” I declared after joining them at the dining table. I took a slice of toast and told myself I wouldn’t touch anything else on the table. Lucian’s cooking was delicious—too delicious, actually, making it hard for me to maintain my weight. Although Dyvian told me Evren didn’t gain weight the way humans did, I wasn’t taking any chances.
“Shoot,” Dyvian garbled out while munching on a strip of bacon. Once again, half of his face was hidden behind a pile of food. The mouthwatering feast tempted me to ignore my weight goals.
Turning away from the invitation to sin, I doggedly bit my way through my toast—whole wheat, bland, but utterly safe. “Lucian told everyone I’m from Australia. But I don’t sound Australian, do I? What if people start noticing?”
Dyvian’s twirled his fork around. “Th
at is a bit of a problem.”
I glanced at Lucian, expecting him to have a solution. He always did. He was reading the business papers—again—but I had no doubt he was listening to our conversation at the same time.
“Well?” I pulled his Financial Times down so I could see his face and enjoy the beauty of his forest green eyes.
Not that I’d ever tell him his eyes are beautiful. Teasing Lucian about crushing on me was one thing, but having him know about my crush on him was another, and one of the X-Files-Don’t-Ever-Speak-Of-It variety.
A small smile played on Lucian’s lips then. It made him so much cuter. The smile widened. I frowned. What in the world could be in Financial Times that would make him smile like that? Curiosity temporarily wiped out the niggling issue of my so-called-Australian identity. “What are you smiling about?”
The smile vanished and Lucian coughed. “Nothing.”
My eyes met Dyvian’s in mutual suspicion. “Oh, wait. I think I know what it is.” When Lucian glanced at me in wary astonishment, I became convinced of the accuracy of my hunch.
Lucian took a drink of his coffee. “What is it then?”
“You hit the jackpot with your stock investments.” I flashed a triumphant smile. “Didn’t you?”
Lucian’s lovely eyes blinked, stared, and gleamed. “You could say that I’ve hit the jackpot, I guess.” Another smile started tugging at his lips, and I decided he was laughing at himself for being silly enough to think he could keep something like that from me.
Dyvian and I gave each other hi-fives. “Told you I knew.”
“He doesn’t usually keep things like that a secret though,” Dyvian remarked.
I had figured the answer to that, too, and I answered before Lucian could. “Because he still doesn’t want to give us any reason to celebrate in Vegas.” I rolled my eyes and turned to Lucian. “Right?” I had been pestering Lucian to let me go to Vegas—what was the point of being in Nevada if you could never go to Sin City?—and Dyvian had been supporting my side just to annoy his brother.
