The two of us walked together in silence until we arrived at my classroom.
"I'll see you at lunch, Katie," Simon said, and he looked so worried that I felt very genuinely sorry for him.
I wished I could reassure him, but I had a feeling that nothing I could say would make him trust William.
I went in to homeroom.
I sat through the announcements, and then went on to first-period Social Studies. I tried to pay attention to the lecture, but I couldn't help thinking about the girl who had been attacked. I had a terrible feeling that she wouldn't be the only one. I was glad I'd asked William to come see me at school today.
I needed to tell him about the attack.
Eventually, the bell rang, and I moved on to second-period English. My friends Charisse and Branden were both in the class, and I spotted them as I walked in. Charisse had dark brown skin and black hair was arranged today in a cluster of curls on top of her head. Branden was pale, tall, and long-limbed, and his brown hair was, as usual, falling in his eyes.
It was unusual for the two of them to have arrived in the classroom ahead of me—they had a tendency to linger in the halls. Right now they were standing together and talking in low, serious tones. The two of them were dating and were really happy together—though they didn't look terribly happy at the moment.
I said hi as I walked past them—they looked like they didn't want to be disturbed at the moment—and Charisse reached out to grab my sleeve.
"We need to talk after class," she said.
"Okay," I replied, a little surprised.
Charisse smiled her thanks, and I moved on to my desk.
Mrs. Swinburne, our substitute teacher for the rest of the year, was seated at her desk, calmly sorting papers into neat piles. After our original English teacher, Mr. Del Gatto, had disappeared, a sub named Mr. Hightower had been brought in.
I felt a wave of revulsion wash over me as I thought of him.
Mr. Hightower had been sleek and superficially handsome. He had also been Gleb Mstislav's son Timofei, in disguise. Timofei had been responsible for Mr. Del Gatto's disappearance and eventual death. After Timofei—as Mr. Hightower—had gone missing himself, Mrs. Swinburne had taken over as the sub. And then, after Timofei had followed me to Russia and had met with his own death there, Mrs. Swinburne had been asked to remain until the year was out—and it was hard to think of someone who was more of a contrast to Timofei. Mrs. Swinburne with her permanently prim expression and cloud of fluffy brown hair was eminently respectable. Timofei had been all flashy disingenuousness.
I heard fierce whispering nearby, and I looked around. Irina Neverov, her glossy dark hair pulled into a smooth ponytail, was giving her friend Bryony Carson a sibilant harangue. I thought for a moment that Irina might be talking about me—she often was—but this time she didn't appear to be paying any attention to me.
I watched them for a moment. I wasn't surprised to see that Irina was doing all of the talking—Irina was clearly the leader and Bryony and her other friend Annamaria were her faithful followers. I seldom saw the three of them apart. But I was surprised to see that Annamaria was not in her usual spot at Irina's side, and both she and Bryony looked tense.
I had a feeling something was wrong.
As I watched the two of them, Irina glanced up and glared at me. I looked away quickly.
Irina and I had been friends a long time ago when we both were small. But as we'd entered high school we had most definitely grown apart—until we'd reached a point at which Irina wouldn't speak to me unless she absolutely had to. Things had thawed between us after Irina had been kidnapped and both of us had been trapped down in the tunnels that stretched under the Mstislav mansion. Irina's memories of the event were hazy, but her ordeal had changed her for a time. She had even gone so far as to invite me to her father's Halloween party—the same party where I was reunited with William. But things had gone sour again between Irina and me shortly after that, and I wasn't entirely sure why. It seemed that we were once again not on speaking terms.
When the bell rang to signal the start of class, Mrs. Swinburne rose and closed the door. I happened to glance back at Charisse, and she gave me a significant look. I could tell something was going on with her—this wasn't a typical talk she wanted to have later.
After class, Charisse appeared at my desk and waved to Branden as he left the room.
I picked up my things quickly, and I stood up. "What's up?"
Charisse smiled and shot a glance around the room. "Not in here. Let's talk out in the hall where we'll be a little more anonymous."
I nodded, and we moved out into the hall.
With students chattering all around us, Charisse dropped her smile.
She lowered her voice. "It's my mom."
"Your mom?" I asked. "Is she sick?"
"No."
Charisse seemed hesitant to go on, but she had said that she wanted to talk—so I waited patiently for her to speak as we walked.
"My mom is dating again," Charisse said after a few moments, and her voice shook just a little bit.
I was startled. "She's dating? Already?"
"Shhhh!" Charisse hissed. "Not so loud. And yes."
"But what about the divorce?" I asked. "It can't be final yet."
"It isn't," Charisse replied. "But she said that the marriage is as good as over, and that the official end is really just a technicality."
"I suppose that's true," I said.
I was trying to tread very carefully here. Even though we were best friends, Charisse was not big on opening up to people, including me. Charisse's parents had separated in October just before all the trouble with Gleb had started. At the time, Charisse had claimed not to be bothered by the impending divorce—however, she had also suddenly begun to put a lot of energy into her relationship with Branden—and the two of them had actually tried to get married—even though they were both underage.
Since Charisse and Branden had called off their illegal marriage plans, Charisse had continued to say very little about her parents and their divorce. I had a feeling that it troubled her a lot more than she would say, but I never said anything about it unless she brought it up. I hoped she knew that I would support her and not judge her.
Charisse lapsed into silence once again, and I could see signs of strain around her eyes. I wasn't entirely sure how to help her.
"Does your dad know?" I asked after a moment.
"I don't know," Charisse replied. "I don't know if it would make any difference if he did."
Charisse stopped suddenly and closed her eyes tightly. Then she shook her head.
I stopped beside her, concerned.
She opened her eyes and the look she gave me was full of fear.
"This guy my mom is seeing is strange—really strange. And someone needs to talk to her about him. She won't listen to me about him at all. She gets really stubborn. Once upon a time, my dad was the only person who could talk to her when she got that way. But now, of course, he's out of the picture. And even if they were on speaking terms, which they aren't, she would hardly take his advice on romance."
I suddenly felt chilled, though I didn't know why. Surely, it wasn't unusual for a child, even an older one to feel uneasy when a newly single parent started dating—so Charisse's anxiety was probably perfectly normal. But all the same, there was something very convincing about her fear.
Charisse was genuinely worried.
"What do you mean this guy your mom is dating is strange?" I asked. "Strange in what way?"
"I don't know exactly." She gave me a glimmer of her usual smile. "Maybe it's nothing."
"Charisse," I began carefully, "you shouldn't force your feelings underground. If something feels off to you, you should talk about it."
Charisse frowned, and then gave me an oddly desperate look. "I don't know what it is, Katie. I really don't. He certainly hasn't done anything wrong. And it's not anything he's said, either—in fact, he's very charming and polite. I c
an't actually pin anything on him, and yet—"
She paused, and when she went on her voice was small and frightened. "Katie, I think this concerns you too. Would you—that is, I need you to—"
Charisse stopped suddenly and drew back as if she'd been caught at something. She looked around and gave me a small smile. "This is my hallway. I'd better go. You should forget what I've said. I really shouldn't have brought this up at all."
She turned to go.
"Charisse, wait," I said.
She turned back and waved, but she kept going.
I had no choice but to hurry on to class.
I was growing increasingly anxious to see William. I never knew when or where he would show up when he came to see me at school. I just hoped he would appear soon. I needed to see him—I needed to hear him. I clutched my charm—it made him feel nearer somehow.
Third period and fourth period passed, and I didn't see William. I went to lunch, and I sat with Charisse, Branden, and Simon like I usually did. All traces of Charisse's earlier uneasiness seemed to have vanished—she and Branden were teasing each other back and forth. Simon seemed to be working harder than usual to make me laugh, but I wasn't in a terribly humorous mood. I was beginning to worry that maybe William wouldn't show up today. GM would be really unhappy if she agreed to have him over for dinner and then he didn't show.
"So how about it, Katie?"
I glanced up. Simon was looking at me expectantly.
I realized that I hadn't heard anything he'd said in the last few minutes.
I blinked. "Sorry, Simon. What did you say?"
"I said, how would you like to go ice skating with me this weekend? I thought it would be fun for you—especially since it seems to be something you're into now."
A familiar feeling of guilt settled over me—it always seemed to come up with Simon. It was beginning to be clear that what I'd suspected earlier was true—that Simon's romantic feelings for me were returning. Perhaps they had never really left. I really liked Simon—I really cared about him. But what I felt for Simon was nothing like what I felt for William.
"What about Irina?" I asked.
At the beginning of the year, Irina had made no secret of the fact that she liked Simon. And as the weeks had gone by, she had only seemed to like him more—and she had been even more unpleasant to me than she usually was. After Irina and I had returned from Russia and our relationship had thawed, there had also been a warming up of the relationship between Irina and Simon. The two of them had seemed to be getting along well for a few weeks—they even seemed to be well on their way to becoming a couple. But lately, it seemed that they had begun to drift apart.
I drew in my breath sharply—I should have seen it before. Irina had realized that Simon was interested in me again long before I had. That's why she was angry again.
For his part, Simon ran his hand over his hair. "Irina, yeah."
Simon looked away. I could see that he was trying to work out what he wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that he didn't have to explain anything about Irina to me—that I would actually be really happy if he liked Irina. But I had a feeling that telling him all that wouldn't make any difference. So I waited.
Simon gave me a serious look. I was reminded suddenly of the one time we had kissed—here at school in a deserted hallway. I should have realized that his affection for me wouldn't fade so easily.
"Irina is a great girl," Simon said at last, "but she's not you. And I know you think you like this William guy, but Katie, I'm telling you he's not good for you."
I realized then that Charisse and Branden had stopped talking and were watching us closely. I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. Charisse and Branden didn't know much about William, but I had an unpleasant feeling that they disapproved of him too.
Simon continued. "I'm sorry I've spent so much time with Irina lately. As I said—she's a great girl. I like her a lot, and I wanted to like her more—mostly because it seemed to be what you wanted."
I felt a little pang of guilt when Simon said that. I certainly hadn't meant to push Simon into a relationship that he didn't really want.
"But Katie, I soon realized that I could never feel anything more for Irina than friendship. And I also realized that it wouldn't be fair to her to pretend that it was possible for me to feel otherwise."
I sighed. I was certainly familiar with that sentiment.
"And I have to tell you," Simon said, "that it's almost like you're under some kind of spell lately. Things were going great between us until this William guy showed up. And you know, I blame myself for some of this."
"Simon, that's crazy," I said. "You have absolutely nothing to be sorry about—"
Simon interrupted. "But, I do. I really do. I was hanging out with Irina, but the whole time I was worried about you. I knew that you were in trouble with this—this William, and I did nothing. You needed me, and I wasn't there. And now you're in over your head with some shady guy from who knows where. I've failed you, Katie. And I'm sorry about that."
"Simon, you've got this all wrong," I said "I don't want to hurt you, but I'm really happy with William—no one could make me happier."
Simon gave me a skeptical look. Then he shook his head and smiled.
"Okay, Katie. I'll humor you. For now."
I looked around at Charisse and Branden. Both of them were staring at me, clearly concerned.
"So what about you guys?" I asked, though I feared I knew the answer. "What do you think about William and me?"
Branden looked away.
Charisse pursed her lips. She started to say something, then stopped. She was silent for a moment, and then her words started to tumble out.
"Katie, as much as I hate to say it, your situation is reminding me of my mom's. I wanted to say something before, but I couldn't. Some guy breezes into town out of nowhere and suddenly the two of you can't be separated. You don't spend time with your friends like you used to, and you seem to be in a dreamy fog all the time. And Katie, to be honest the few times I've been around William, I've gotten a really funny feeling around him. It's a lot like the feeling I have around my mom's new boyfriend. I think William is trouble too."
"What can I do to reassure you guys that everything is okay?" I asked.
"Listen to your friends," Charisse said quickly. "Listen to the people who care the most about you."
I felt frustration welling up within me. That was not the kind of answer I wanted.
I looked around at the three sets of worried eyes that were turned toward me. "Can we change the topic, please?"
All three sets of eyes wavered—I saw disappointment and fear flash across the faces that were turned toward me. Charisse, Branden, and Simon all became carefully polite, even conciliatory.
"Yeah, sure, of course," Branden said.
"If that's what you want, Katie," Simon said.
"Don't get angry, Katie. We're just trying to look out for you," Charisse said.
But I was angry with all of them. William was different, and he couldn't settle into the normal patterns of the community for very good reasons—reasons I could never explain to them. I supposed that if the situation were reversed and one of them was seeing someone who seemed mysterious—and possibly dangerous—that I would be concerned, too. They were only being so pushy because they cared about me.
I told myself to be calm.
"I appreciate your concern, I really do," I said. "You'll all just have to trust me on this one."
In return I received three nods and three polite smiles. But I had a feeling this argument was far from over.
The rest of lunch was rather strained as we all made small talk, and I was relieved when the bell rang.
We all got up, and Branden and Charisse headed off together, like they usually did. I turned to say good-bye to Simon, but instead of turning toward his hallway, he moved to follow me.
"I'll walk you to class," he said.
I stopped and stood still, even though doing so mean
t that I was blocking other people who were trying to exit the cafeteria.
Simon stopped then, too, making the problem worse.
"Simon—" I began. I was suddenly nervous. I didn't want Simon following me. I was still waiting for William to show up, and I didn't want him to step out of the shadows when I was with Simon. Simon, though he pretended otherwise, still seemed pretty worked up. I feared what would happen if he saw William. I didn't want a confrontation—especially not at school.
"Out of the way!" someone shouted.
Simon and I drew apart from the stream of traffic and stood by the wall.
"Simon—" I began again.
He interrupted. "Katie, we're not done talking yet."
"Simon, please," I said. "I don't want to go over all that again—"
"Katie, you never answered my question."
I blinked. "What question?"
"Will you go ice skating with me this weekend?"
I looked up into Simon's face. Despite everything I had said, he looked really hopeful. A terrible feeling of guilt settled over me once again.
"Simon, I like you. I really do. And we've been friends forever—"
"So, is that a 'yes'?"
I closed my eyes. "Simon, please just listen."
He remained silent, and I looked up at him again. "I want to stay friends with you, and I don't mind doing things with you as a friend, but somehow going ice skating feels more like a date. And as much as I like you, I can't go out on a date with you."
"Because of him," Simon said.
"Because of William," I replied.
Simon nodded, then he looked up at me. "I'm not going to give up, you know. You think that he's right for you. But I know that I am. I'm in this for the long haul. You take all the time you need to moon over the wrong guy. But when he's gone—moved on to the next town or whatever it is guys like him do—I'll still be standing here. I'm the one you can depend on."
Simon backed up a few paces. "I'm not giving up, Katie. I promise you that."
Then, he turned and was gone, disappearing into the crowd of students.
Chapter 4.
After Simon had disappeared, I stood for a moment, feeling more than a little overwhelmed. Then I turned to go to class. As I did so, I found that someone was standing in my way.
Ignis (Book 2, Pure Series) Page 5
