Vixen (The Fox and Hound Book 1)

by Catherine Labadie

  “I think you do. I think people here already look up to you…maybe as a leader?” Belinda’s unwavering gaze settles into an emotion growing more hostile by the minute, and it’s not difficult to read into the meaning behind her words. I’m adapting to this game, although I refuse to play it the same manipulative way she does.

  “I don’t make myself a leader here. I attempt to follow the rules,” I say, struggling to keep the monotone in my voice. The principal bows her long, tan neck in a

  graceful, if skeptical nod.

  “I have noticed that there seems to be a new dress style for M-DNA students as of today,” she informs me. “I saw all these changes, and I admit that my mind came back to you when I wondered who originated such a forward change in style.”

  “You’re worrying about our clothes?” I ask, and then amend myself to cover my growingly obvious loss

  of control over my emotions. “I mean, you want me to convince the others to go back into hiding?” I expect her to be affronted by my words—far bolder and more direct than hers—but her shark-tooth smile only widens.

  “However you wish to phrase it, yes. Your popularity here should allow you to convince your classmates of the wisdom in staying under the radar,” she says. “I wish you to be an example to the class of students you have influence over. If you are who they follow, then you should be able to convince them to cease flaunting their mutations.” I want to run out of this room right now so I can be done with this close-minded woman with her sugar-coated smiles and false beauty.

  “I see,” I say. “Is there a new rule about dress code for M-DNA students I should know about? Perhaps another SMARTnote I missed?”

  “Yes, unofficially,” Belinda admits; she sits up rigidly in her fine, black leather chair. “I believe I have made myself perfectly clear already, Sierra, about what I expect from you. I will deal with this issue now before any more serious consequences are necessary for transgressors,” Belinda says as she clasps her spidery hands together on top of her desk.

  “Fine. Are we done now?” I ask. I picture what would happen if I told Harold all of what was going on. He would go to the media, and I’d like to think the world would believe me and be on my side—there’s definitely proof enough concerning the oppression of half-breed students—but I can’t be sure. Everyone is so torn between support of humans and support of half-breeds…there’s a distinct probability of me making circumstances worse and getting myself expelled. Plus,

  the side that is suddenly concerned about what they define as “equality” is most likely more interested in the great social experiment started by that crazy scientist before the war.

  The principal considers me a moment longer.

  “Yes, I think I’ve explained to you what kind of behavior I expect from now on,” she says. I try not to hear the triumph or smugness in her tone. I feel defeated, and I have no idea what I’m going to do about “leading” the others back into hiding their animal traits. I don’t know how to be an example, especially if I don’t want to be, and I wonder if I even have a choice.

  When I get out of Belinda’s office, I expect the aide to ignore me once more, but this is not the case.

  “I’m to show you back to your class,” she tells me. Her grimace lets me know he doesn’t want to, because we both know I can get back to class perfectly fine.

  “There’s no need,” I say as I continue walking, but the assistant follows me anyway. She glares at me, and I stifle a sigh as I chalk her up as yet another person who wants me gone from this school. I assume this is one more power play on the part of Belinda Harper; she already thinks I’m mentally inadequate, so why not

  make the rest of the school view me the same way? Even making me look like I can’t find my way around the school after almost a full week of classes is one small step in her evil plan.

  I don’t know what I’ll do about what she expects from me as an apparent leader here, but I know that the last thing I want to do is comply. I still see Lyle as a leader, a hell of a lot more than me, but I’m also the

  last person who wants us half-breed students to go back to being cowed.

  z

  I wonder, as I tell my friends in a very brief summary what happened in the principal’s too-neat office, if they are tired of hearing about all the authority related drama that seems to be haunting me lately. They haven’t shown any signs of annoyance so far. Morgan is of course very sympathetic, and Ivar and Shelby have their own discussion about what’s going on apart from us. Lyle keeps quiet, simply listening and considering my words. His anger is palpable.

  It’s about the end of Psychology now, and I’m excited for this whole hour to be done with. My face is still flushed from what just took place; Morgan, the only person among my quartet of friends here with my SMARTcall number, just sent me a text letting me know that she gave my number to Lyle. I’m embarrassed, but

  I can’t express why. I wasn’t attracted to him to begin with, not as much as…well, a long-legged ginger, but now my thoughts solidify into a more of a denial.

  The bell rings, releasing me to make my way to my next class: senior English. I can’t resist the urge to look around for a glimpse of red hair, and I see it this time. Duncan strides down the hallway, again with the group of friends I’m beginning to recognize. Something about

  his gait is different from the other boys’: confident, but not arrogant. He’s also broader in the shoulders and heavier muscle-wise, which I see as I notice the way his shoulders taper down to a deliciously proportional waist.

  Stop, I tell myself firmly…but my protests are weakening. I lower my eyes, looking away right when the girl with strawberry blond hair glances at me inquisitively. Morgan chatters about the party as she stands behind me, and I give her a few empty replies. I blankly follow her to our next class, and I wish I could make my thoughts focus on matters at hand.

  My SMARTcall buzzes in my pocket, vibrating like an irritation. One of these days it’s finally going to break, or leap out of my pocket from buzzing too violently. Maybe then Wade will have to smuggle me a new one, I think as I fidget to get the SMARTcall out of my pocket. I see the message preview on the little screen, along with the message

  ID.

  “Oooh, is that Lyle?” Morgan asks excitedly, and I try to restrain a grimace as I confirm her question with a nod.

  LYLE ZEMAN: Hey Sierra, I was just making sure your number works.

  I’m not sure what to say; there’s not much room for reply.

  SIERRA MAURELL: It works, thanks for checking!

  “What did he say?” Morgan pesters me, craning her head over my shoulder trying to see my phone; I have to dodge her antlers poking me or worse, tangling in my hair. I experience a brief urge to shield my phone from her, but right then a reply blinks onto the screen.

  LYLE ZEMAN: So I was wondering...would you like to be my date for the party tonight?

  Well you sure move fast, I think. I consider sending this as a reply, but Morgan’s gasp startles me and I nearly drop my phone. We’ve stopped in the middle of the crowded hallway, but thankfully people just step around us for the moment. I turn to observe my friend, and for a brief instant, I see a very hurt expression on her sweet, innocent face.

  “Morgan—” I begin, wanting to say something to…to what?

  “You have to say yes!” she says right away, cutting me off. Her voice is slightly higher than normal, and I now know for certain that she really, really likes this lion boy who is suddenly so interested in me. Guilt settles in my stomach again, even though it’s not my fault that

  her crush is showing interest in me.

  “Say yes?” I ask, timidly sliding my phone into my pocket. I don’t know what to reply, but I know I don’t want to hurt or block my friend. “Why do you think so?”

  Morgan’s dark eyes look so serene now; if it weren’t for the slight tremble to her lips, I would think I imagined her hurt just a few seconds ago. “Yes, he really likes you. Three or four da
y’s acquaintance or not, I think

  you should give him a chance, Sierra,” she says.

  I listen, internally debating my level of non-interest. Perhaps she can see this lack of enthusiasm on my face, because she cocks her head to the left.

  “It might be worth it to give him a chance….he’s a bit more suited for you than some of the other guys here,” she says. My charitable feelings for her evaporate like water, and I tighten my fingers around the SMARTcall device in my pocket. I know full well who she’s talking about, but she glances over at Duncan anyway, forcing me to as well.

  Have I been that transparent? I think as I watch him laugh at something the sunny blonde girl said. Well, running off yesterday to Omnium Beanery after school might have been a little obvious, I answer myself. Something curls up in my heart, angry and a little hurt. Maybe Lyle deserves a chance…

  I look at Morgan and pull my phone back out, toying with the red gel case enclosing the delicate device. She watches me to see what I’ll do, and I look down at my screen to avoid her eyes. I’m trying not to do this out of spite for her comment—or spite for everyone else who is putting down a friendship I want to keep up with—but I confess that my hurt feelings,

  and my realization that I as a half-breed really can’t be friends with a human, pollute my motives.

  “He might be a fun party date,” I admit.

  SIERRA MAURELL: Sure. I’ll meet you there.

  I hit send before looking up at Morgan, who makes a noise of affirmation through her nose. She remains

  silent as we finally abandon our spots rooted in the center of the hallway, and I’m already looking for the relief of Shelby and Ivar’s or even Lyle’s company to ease the tension.

  16

  My SMARTcall flashes with new messages the entire next period, and I try to be as unnoticeable as possible as I answer the texts.

  SHELBY JEAN: U said yes! I’m so happy for u. What r u going to wear tonight?

  LYLE ZEMAN: So what kind of music do u like? I hear the Reis girls have good taste.

  I may not appreciate Shelby’s enthusiasm as much as Morgan’s willingness to let me have a date with a guy she clearly adores, but part of me is glad that I have friends who are interested in my life. Back in my

  private school, I did have a circle of friends, but

  something about them having parents and growing up together did keep me a little isolated. No boy was ever interested in me before, either; there are times when I get really sad and miss my mother a great deal, but now more than ever I wish she was here to share some wisdom on what to do about boys and my feelings about them.

  Would she tell me to try things out with Lyle, or would she say back off for Morgan’s sake? I know I would rather Lyle be interested in Morgan…but he’s not, and I’m no matchmaker. Perhaps I should really give things a go with the lion boy who looks at me with so much interest.

  But Duncan… I don’t know what I want there. I’ve had a crush before, and I do admit that I’m starting to want more than friendship—however ashamed I am that I want this after only a few days acquaintance—and I want to get to know this human boy who doesn’t avoid half-breeds at this hell of a school.

  I decide to text Hayley in between my conversations with other people. It’ll be a miracle if the English teacher doesn’t notice my texting, but at least it’s fairly easy for me to type without looking at the screen.

  SIERRA MAURELL: I have news on the drama front.

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: Ohhh? Do tell.

  SIERRA MAURELL: I got invited to a party for

  people at school, and Lyle just asked me to be his date.

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: Well that’s not really a surprise. Go on.

  SIERRA MAURELL: However, I just confirmed my

  suspicion that Morgan is a lot more interested in him than I am.

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: Ouch.

  SIERRA MAURELL: I’m not sure what to do. I told him he could be my date because Morgan really wanted me to, but I’m not sure where to go from here. I’m not as excited as I think I should be.

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: You are wise to come to me for counsel. My medical opinion is that Morgan wants you to go out with Lyle because Lyle likes you better…she wants Lyle to have fun. I’m not saying she’s not hoping you’ll bomb the date so

  Lyle will fall into her arms, but that’s what it looks like to me.

  SIERRA MAURELL: That…makes some sort of sense I guess. Thanks, doctor. Anything to add to that diagnosis?

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: Don’t do more than you’re comfortable with.

  SIERRA MAURELL: Thanks Mum.

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: Who knows, maybe this will get you to not carry a torch for that Duncan boy.

  What? I never told Hayley any of my thoughts on Duncan…we’ve talked since my time with him in Omnium Beanery, but I know for a fact I never said anything to her about my increasingly confused feelings for a forbidden human boy. Is he even interested in me? I think next, my silly brain rapidly reviewing every interaction with him since we met. Duncan isn’t repulsed by my kind, that’s true…

  But he may not want to be in a relationship with someone like you. I feel stupid now and I want to break something. I don’t bother lying to Hayley.

  SIERRA MAURELL: You’re right. We’ll see…let’s hang out soon and catch up, I’ll have to tell you how the party goes.

  HAYLEY MANCHESTER: You got it kiddo, I better hear from you tomorrow about all this stuff.

  The bell rings, so I’m unable to compose a reply. I sense the eyes of my friends on me, and I want to escape the pressure. I don’t know how I suddenly got

  to be so popular, but I’m solitary by nature—except when it comes to my family—and so much pressure to communicate might drive me batty.

  It’s our morning break between classes, so I dodge Shelby and Ivar and head towards the lower wing where the bathrooms are. It’s not necessarily a rule for half-breeds to use the bathrooms downstairs, but it sure feels a lot safer down there: the human students don’t

  go down there at all. At least there I can park on the bench by the sink and have some peace.

  “You look frazzled.” Duncan’s voice shocks me into slowing my pace, and I turn to my right to see him walking next to me. “Care to share?” He smiles slightly, and I feel the tight muscles in my neck relax as a responsive smile creeps towards my lips.

  Then I remember: I promised to be Lyle’s date tonight. It might be better if I stay away from

  Duncan for now, I think, and the thought dissolves my smile.

  “It’s nothing worth talking about,” I say carefully. “Just a full day for me, that’s all.”

  “Academic stress?” he asks, continuing to walk with me; his arms swing free at his sides, and I direct my eyes away so I’m not tempted to touch his bicep. Damn. Is it really necessary he looks good just walking?

  “No…social drama,” I say, purposefully vague. I pause in the hall, my nose clogged with human smells as waves of students pass us by. “Listen Duncan, I’ve got to—”

  “Hey there fox girl!” One of Duncan’s friends comes

  up behind Duncan and whacks his back in what I recognize as a friendly male greeting; he’s looking at me though, this boy with the black curly hair, and wide, mischievous smile.

  “Hey?” I say back uncertainly. I haven’t interacted with any more human students besides Duncan and the couple from hell, Bryan and Katrina. Duncan’s friends or not, I don’t want to get set up for any more

  ridicule.

  “It’s Sierra,” Duncan corrects the curly-haired boy and faces me. “Sierra, this is my best friend Aaden...please keep in mind that no, you don’t want to know anything about the medicinal benefits of legal and illegal herbs. It’s hard to stop him once he gets going. ”

  I can’t help it; a grin sneaks up around my lips, although I’m still nervous. My hackles rise from my alertness; I hope no one notices how jumpy I am, especially not the rest of Duncan’s friends wh
o are confidently approaching as well.

  “Nice to meet you,” I say politely to Aaden, determined—and probably failing—to act natural. Duncan watches me from his peripheral vision, and I wonder how he feels about this scene. I’m not sure why he would be anxious, but for some reason I want him to be comfortable.

  “I’m Sierra,” I introduce myself to the group who scrutinizes me almost expectantly. Going out on a limb, I extend my hand to see if anyone will be polite and shake it; if I feel like I’m being tested, then I want them

  to feel under scrutiny as well.

  “Hello Sierra. I am Bari,” the tall boy in red jeans and glasses says solemnly in a voice that was definitely deeper than I expected from such a skinny build. “This is my girlfriend, Mabel.” Mabel, the hourglass-figured girl with a ready smile, light eyes, and long strawberry blonde hair extends her hand to shake mine. I try not to cringe as I wait for her to recoil from brushing against

  my fur. But she doesn’t, and I watch her face. She must be used to half-breeds, I conclude.

  “This is my cousin Truman and my girl Kylie,”

  Aaden says, pulling in the laughing sun-haired girl with one arm and giving her a quick kiss on the top of her head. Truman lingers at the back of the group, looking benign. I don’t know what else to say; my eyes flick over to Duncan again, assessing before I speak. He’s watching me too, and we both realize it; he smiles at me encouragingly.

  “Nice to meet you,” I repeat, sending him one more questioning glance. Did he arrange this…?

  “Your hair is absolutely gorgeous,” Kylie says, approaching me to finger a few strands. My instincts are in revolt, and I want to step back; perhaps Mabel senses this, because she pulls Kylie back with a laugh.