Hotblood

by Juliann Whicker

  I forced my eyes—I could feel the heat in them—to the top of my desk. It was a welcome distraction when Lewis’ clear voice broke in, “I have an idea, Mrs. Briggs, if you don’t mind my interruption. I’ve always wanted to learn more about the origins of the gothic novel.”

  I stared across the room at the boy where he sat: the boy from my dream, with a sincere look on his face. “That’s an interesting idea. Mr. Nialls isn’t it? Miss Sanders, what do you think about that?”

  I nodded. “I think that would be fantastic. It even works with the architecture.” A couple people giggled and Mrs. Briggs made an unpleasant noise before returning to her lecture.

  I paid attention to my notebook from that point on. When the bell rang, I figured that I’d better go to the restroom and check my eyes. When I got there and looked up at myself in the mirror, my eyes sparkled—but didn’t glow. They were a blue gray with slashes of darker blue, no crimson tints. I studied the rest of me. I wasn’t as beautiful as my mother or Snowy, but I didn’t look half bad. I looked interesting and a little bit intimidating. I liked how I looked strong enough to take care of myself. I was done with Osmond hovering. It was sweet but really misguided.

  In the hall I stared up at the skylights and almost walked into Lewis. I jerked to a stop abruptly as he held out my bag.

  “You left it in class. You really are faster than a demon; I couldn’t catch up to you.” He smiled at me and I looked around wondering what people would think of our conversation. People averted their eyes when I looked at them and kept a wide berth around both of us where we stood in the middle of the hall.

  “Thanks.” I took the bag and started walking to my next class, AP Chemistry. It was on an offshoot of the main hall and I was already running late.

  “It’s a beautiful bag,” he said walking with me.

  “It’s my dad’s. He let me bring it with me when I came back. It’s too bad he didn’t fit inside.” I glanced over at him wondering why he was walking with me, why he was talking to me and being so nice, like we knew each other or something. I’d only seen him for a second the night before. I remembered my instinct when he’d put his hand on my shoulder. It felt different today, less intense here in the halls surrounded by other students than in the darkness with my heart beating in my throat.

  When I turned the corner, he waved and walked a different way. I felt a weird ache when he was out of sight. I stood for a minute outside the door trying to shake off the feeling, the wrongness of standing in a hall without Lewis. It was enough to dream him and see him in school, I didn’t need any more weirdness. I went into my class, but seeing all the other students, there was something dull about all the boys, even the ones that Snowy would point out as hot. Why would I notice how good Lewis looked compared to these boys when he was gone? I shook my head and sat down.

  In Chemistry, Mr. Ostley was having us study a book I’d done twice already. AP Chemistry wasn’t advanced enough for me. He suggested I go see the counselor when I brought up my problem, so with a sigh I shoved everything back into my bag and went to talk to administration.

  I walked into the hall, turning the corner back to the main hall and clipped some guy who was heading towards the boy’s locker room. He grinned at me while I tried to fight off the instinct to knock him down or something. Apparently I still had a strong reaction to physical contact. I held my arms over my chest and forced myself to smile without showing teeth. The wrongness of him compared to Lewis was so strong.

  “I’m sorry about that. Are you all right?” he asked in a way that made the hair on the back of my neck rise. Something about him was really creepy.

  “Fine.” I tried to keep walking, but he put a hand on my shoulder. I knocked it off of me and stared him down, holding myself tightly under control. If he wanted to make something of this, I had no problem…

  “Harris, what are you doing?” Osmond’s voice broke through the rising fury, and I took a deep breath and smelled the sickly cheap cologne as Harris turned away from me.

  “I’m coming,” he said to Osmond, leaving me to glare at his back. Whoever he was, he did not belong anywhere near me. I’d thought I’d had a problem with Osmond touching me. It was nothing compared to the revulsion of this Harris’ guy’s touch.

  Osmond still stood in the door of the locker room after Harris had gone in. “Dariana, are you ok?” Not even Osmond with his golden skin was as warm as the memory of Lewis. What was wrong with me?

  I grinned at him. “Oh, I’m great! Have a good football thing.” I kept my smile in place as he gave me a skeptical look until he shrugged.

  “Oh, ok. Let me know if you need something.” He gave me a wave before he let the door close behind him and I was left in the empty hall. I told myself that it was sweet the way Osmond tried to fill Devlin’s shoes. It was not an insult to me personally. He didn’t have the slightest idea of what I was capable of. I didn’t really know much myself. As I walked towards the office at the bottom of a tower, I wondered if that wasn’t what I should be doing— trying things to see what worked for me. I didn’t see how else I could really get to know myself. What I wanted to know was what Lewis was doing here. He seemed nice enough, but surely someone like him should be doing something, sports, something instead of helping out a relative. I remembered the dream and the old man, the clear eyes that didn’t look like they belonged to someone who needed help. There was more to Lewis, I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to know what it was.

  In the office it took what felt like an eternity for me to get it through the secretary’s head that I needed a different schedule. Finally she directed me to the counselor’s office where I found myself sitting in front of the oldest person I’d ever met. She was wrinkled all the way to her white hairline and tufts of fluff surrounded her face. Her eyes peered out at me through her thick horn rimmed glasses.

  “Good morning, Dariana, I’m Ms. Partle. You’re having trouble with your schedule?” Her voice was rough with age. “Have a seat; let’s see what we can do.”

  I handed her the schedule and she typed something into the computer. It was so strange to see someone that old manipulating the keyboard with such dexterity. I could barely type my name on a computer.

  “I see the problem. You’ve been in advanced classes for as long you’ve been in school but there are a few options. You could do release time at a college, independent study, or…”

  “Excuse me,” I broke in, tired of wasting time. “I was thinking of taking a completely different schedule. I don’t know if I really like math and science. I want to try something new, everything new, really. Maybe I could take art classes or something.”

  She looked at her computer screen and raised her eyebrows. “Let’s see, yes, you could definitely use some art electives. You have to keep English, PE, and History, but I think all the rest could very easily be artistic. How do you feel about sewing?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know, it sounds different, like something I might like to try.”

  Miss Partle jotted down something then typed something else on her computer. “Drawing two is second period. You’ll have to ask the teacher, Mr. Landon, for permission, but the sewing, fifth, after lunch shouldn’t be a problem. Mrs. Lemon takes everyone. Mr. Landon has multimedia seventh period. That only leaves sixth period. You don’t really need a class there. Would you like to do study hall?”

  “Study hall?” I shrugged, happy at how easy this was turning out. “Sounds fun.”

  She gave me a smile deepening her wrinkles. “Excellent. So English, then you’ll have to run up the stairs to the drawing room, then down to PE, History down the hall, and after lunch, all the rest of your classes will be upstairs, except for study hall, which you’ll spend in the other tower. Here you go dear. That’s the bell; you’d better get to PE. We don’t want you to be late. We’re very serious about punctuality here.”

  I took the list she handed me and gave her my first real smile of the day. She’d been genuinely helpful and hadn’t
looked at me like I was an alien. “Thank you so much.” I gave her another smile before leaving the room, closing the door behind me. The smile faltered when I saw the secretary. She wasn’t looking at me, and I hurried out.

  In the hall, I was looking at my list when I walked into someone for the second time that day. I looked up, gasping, and found myself staring into warm eyes that made the rest of the world kind of disappear. The smell of him was so incredible, spicy and practically edible, I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t smelled him before walking into him.

  Lewis dropped to one knee and began gathering his fallen papers. “You know, I’m beginning to think that I’m going to have to do something drastic to get your attention. You don’t seem to notice me,” he said with a half smile.

  I stared at him and then dropped beside him. I realized I should probably say something. “I seem to have a hard time missing you.”

  His laugh took me off guard and I forced myself not to stare at him. His laugh was warm, golden like his eyes with so much light and sweetness it didn’t seem real. This boy belonged in the woods with my father, not in any kind of educational setting. I swallowed as I stood up and kind of awkwardly began down the hall towards gym. He fell in beside me. I rubbed my arm and realized that the skin was sensitive where I ran into him. My reaction to him was bizarre to me. Of course, what else would it be after the dreams and the anxiety from the night before? He probably thought I was completely unstable after I’d run away from him, after I’d run over him. Oh man, this made it two times in twenty-four hours.

  “Is your first day going ok?” he asked, and I was startled all over again at the sound of his voice. It was easier when there were other people in the hall. Being alone with him changed things. There wasn’t anything else for me to think about besides his incredible scent, the steady thrum of his heart. I forced myself to concentrate on the stone floor and the sound of our footsteps.

  “It’s not my first day. I’ve been going to this school for years. How about you? What do you think of good old Sanders High School?” I gave him a light smile that he returned with an easy grin.

  “It’s very old. What do you think of the architecture? Do you love it or hate it?”

  I looked up past the second floor balcony to the stained glass windows with images in gold and crimson that I couldn’t quite make out. “How could anyone hate so much beauty, so much history? The place has a past, like my dad’s house. It’s like a picture or a dream that you can taste with so much intensity that it must be real, but it isn’t the same reality you wake up to, with cars, and people who ask you how you are…” I trailed off wondering why I’d gone off like that. “Sorry,” I muttered, certain he couldn’t possibly be interested.

  “I feel the same way,” he said quietly. “It still feels like a church when it’s quiet, full of the mystery.” He looked up at the stained glass and I looked up at him. His skin was a warm tan and his nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken. His lips were tight as he gazed upwards, the long column of his throat exposed to me. I shoved a hand through my hair and looked away, forcing myself to walk faster. Whoever he was, admiring his pulse was not a good idea.

  The rest of the walk to the girl’s locker room seemed inordinately long, every step full of an awareness of him even though I avoided looking at him. “I’ll see you later.” I waved when I finally pushed through the door.

  I got dressed and hurried out to where the other girls were sitting listening to Mrs. Walter’s lecture on safety before she sent us out to run laps around the gym for the rest of the period. As I ran, I studied how the gym had been added to the original building. The gym had been designed to complement it with an arched roof, even a wall with stained glass. How they could rationalize putting a window like that where people were throwing balls around was beyond me. The running helped me to feel better, less tense from my collision with Lewis. It was still mind boggling that he was here, that he talked to me like a normal person, and that he smiled at me.

  After class, Mrs. Walter invited me to try out for some sports. I turned her down reluctantly, wishing that I could safely stretch this strong body to its limits. Maybe I could do track, but no contact sports for me.

  After I was showered and dressed in my vintage wrap dress, I left the locker room and passed the long curved marble staircase to the second floor. Had I ever been up those steps?

  I made it to my history class and took notes, being careful to concentrate. I’d never had to exert any effort to do that before, but it made the time go pretty fast. After class, I walked slowly to the door smiling at anyone who dared catch my eye. Everyone kept a respectable distance from me. Although they bumped and jostled each other, I still seemed to have a protective bubble surrounding me. I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not, but given my impulses, it was probably for the best.

  I walked towards the cafeteria, hesitating at the doors. They were propped open and students were sitting around. They seemed strange to me in their modern clothes that conflicted with the gothic apse that had once held a crucifix. The bow windows still held the panes of glass, pictures of saints I didn’t recognize. Snowy sat at a table looking like a Madonna with the gold of the window giving her a halo. I blinked and made my way to the line on the right side of the room. I stood behind a nice boy who kept looking at me nervously, like I was too close to him or something. I moved forward slowly to give him more space.

  After making it through the line, I tried really hard not to feel everyone’s eyes on me as I walked towards Snowy’s table, balancing my tray. I eyed my lunch and wondered what if any of it was going to give me what I craved. I still hated admitting that I even had cravings.

  “Dari, how are you?” Snowy beamed at me, and I wondered if we’d manage to have a meeting without insulting each other.

  “Good.” I shoved something tasteless in my mouth while I pondered a subject that we wouldn’t start arguing about. “I can’t get used to the architecture of this place. Even if students don’t learn anything from classes, I don’t think they can help but be inspired by the beauty. Hi, Osmond.” He stared at me as he slid into the seat beside Snowy.

  “I didn’t know you liked architecture,” he said and took a bite of something.

  I shrugged and finished another bite of what passed for lasagna. “I guess it’s something I picked up over the summer. My dad’s house is different, but it feels like this.”

  “You mean creepy?” Snowy asked looking up at the ceiling with her nose wrinkled. “I’m glad we have the nice new elementary school building for the little kids. This would give anyone nightmares.”

  I scowled at her, frustrated that the one subject I found safe she would turn into a fight.

  Osmond said, “Well, what do you expect? It’s not only the sacrilege of turning a religious building into a high school; this is where people were found who weren’t swept away by the floods. If there were such a thing as ghosts, this is where I’d look for them.”

  Snowy snorted. “I’d rather have ghosts than loud plumbing and the electrical system that flickers for no apparent reason, and the fact that it’s always damp and drafty. I’d trade a haunted school for this pile of bricks any day.”

  Osmond snickered. “Come on Snowy, you can’t hate the gym. It’s a socialite’s dream come true for throwing parties.”

  Snowy shrugged. “I didn’t deny it had atmosphere. The whole place reeks of atmosphere.”

  I shook my head wondering how someone could walk these halls for so many years without falling in love with it.

  “How was English class?” Osmond asked me.

  I was surprised that Osmond would change the subject so abruptly, but remembering his issue with Lewis, I looked around the cafeteria, but was unable to fine any trace of him. My stomach dropped and I tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with Lewis’s no show and everything to do with the slimy overcooked broccoli. “Good enough. I don’t really like the teacher, but it was okay. Why do you ask?” I trie
d to look innocent and girly like Snowy, I even batted my lashes once or twice.

  “Because,” he said looking at me intently, “I want to be sure the new guy’s keeping his end of the bargain.”

  “Bargain?” I asked while dread started tying knots in my stomach.

  “Lewis didn’t hit on you, did he?” I stared at him open mouthed until I forced myself to shut it. “Good. He said his interest was purely platonic, no time for romantic entanglements and all that, but you never know.”

  “Osmond, really!” Snowy exclaimed looking annoyed. I looked from one to the other and felt deeply humiliated, not to mention more out of place and lost than I already did.

  I swallowed and took my time forming the words carefully. “Platonic, of course. How could anyone possibly think of me in any other way.” My words came through locked teeth at the end. Little autistic robot, that was me. I walked out of the room using my need to talk to Mr. Landon, the art teacher whose class I was trying to get into, as an excuse. I found my way upstairs and after a tortuous conversation and artistic trial, he put my paper on the board next to a beautifully rendered drawing and told me not to be late the next day. After that it was my sewing class. I stood in the hall waiting for the door to open, trying not to think about the bargain Osmond had made with Lewis.

  I wasn’t sure who I was supposed to be more furious at, Osmond for taking the initiative to make sure Lewis kept the appropriate distance, or Lewis for agreeing so easily to Osmond’s conditions. Mostly I was angry with myself for even caring. It stung that Lewis had no time for romantic entanglements after I’d dreamed about him and really thought that maybe he was interested in something… but of course he wouldn’t be. Snowy was right about me. Whatever character I had now wasn’t much of an improvement over what I’d been with nothing. Now I was touchy and ready to blow up for any reason. It was a wonder that Lewis had been so polite and nice. Whatever he’d found interesting in me must have passed. I ground my teeth, then forced my jaw to relax as a wispy curly haired woman opened the door and propped it open.