He was so earnest and sincere. I could feel the tears burning my eyes again. I blinked them away, knowing even more than he suspected exactly how helpful he could be. It seemed wrong to involve him. He had his own secrets to keep and things would be the worse for him if the Coalition found out about his abilities; but the offer was so tempting and I was tired of never having someone to rely on, never sharing anything of myself. Perhaps in time I really could tell him the truth. I knew he would understand what I had been through, how much it would mean to me to know someone different like him. Despite my inner qualms, I gave him a watery smile and nodded.
“Carey, you really don’t know what you’re offering, so I won’t ask you for anything except to keep my secret. But I would really like to be your…friend. I think I‘d be very lucky.” He stared at me intently and I met his gaze, more hopeful than I dared to be in a long time.
“Liz, I’ll do whatever I can for you.” And then he smiled his heart-breaking smile, melting me into a little puddle on the crushed velvet seat. “But I’m really glad you want to be…friends. I think we might understand each other.” He squeezed my hand again and I gasped. He released it suddenly and looked abashed. “Sorry, sometimes I don’t know my own strength. But you know, that could be useful for you.”
I grinned at him, feeling happier than I had in a really long time. I might have done something truly awful to Fitz, but deep down I knew I would have done it again if I’d been in the same situation. No matter what, I would never let the Coalition get their hands on me again. But now, knowing that Carey really did like me and having had the chance to unburden myself a little, I felt lighter and freer, ready to laugh.
Carey glanced at his watch and let out an exclamation. “Crap! It’s after eight. We’re both going to be late for school.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “Sorry about that. I should have picked you up earlier.” I told him it didn’t matter and he started the car and pulled carefully back out onto the road.
After a moment of silence, I broached a question I had been pondering. “I hate to bring it up, but could you tell me what they ended up doing with Fitz?”
Carey glanced at me and then kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah, sorry. I got sidetracked. Um, they were keeping him in a holding cell until the FBI could get here. The sheriff called them as soon as he was identified.”
I caught my breath. That was the last thing I needed, the Feds in Pound. I was definitely going to have to keep a low profile. Then again, if I could somehow survive their visit, Dad and I might actually be able to make a more permanent home here. If Fitz wouldn’t remember me and the Feds didn’t know I lived here; it could actually become quite safe for us. I clamped down on that terrible hope before it got out of control and made me incautious.
We rode to school in relative quiet, both of us lost in our own thoughts. When we pulled into the parking lot Carey started to get out and then paused, turning to look at me with a diffident expression.
“Ok, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I just wondered, um…is there a reason you cover yourself up like that? I mean with the long sleeves and gloves and everything?” I sighed and tried to think of a reasonable explanation. I didn’t want to lie to him.
“I understand why you ask, but I can’t tell you right now. Maybe later.” I watched him to judge how he took this rebuff; he mulled it over for a moment and then nodded acceptance.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have even asked. It’s cool.” He smiled brightly and cocked an eyebrow. “Anyway, it works for you. You could wear a burlap sack and you’d still be the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.”
I nearly choked at his words; I had never received such a sweet, innocently worded compliment. Stupidly, I felt like crying again. Instead I blushed violently and gave him an awkward smile. He grinned even brighter, and heat rose up my neck like the sun hitting my skin after being too cold.
We walked up to the main office together and got late slips, claiming that his prehistoric car had stalled on the way to school. The secretary accepted his story without question, smiling and batting her eyes like she was sixteen and not sixty. Finally, he promised to see me in gym and we parted ways, heading to our respective lockers and classes.
I found I was smiling like a fool and humming to myself. I couldn’t remember when I’d been happier and couldn’t wait to tell Dad that we finally had an ally. I wasn’t sure how he would take this new development, but I was sure once he met Carey he would agree with me.
It was in this tentatively happy state that I found my way to Mr. Tesh’s class and presented my note. He nodded absently and waved me to my seat, which I took in a considerably better mood than the day before. Even having most of the class stare at me didn’t faze me, and I was able to keep my mouth shut when Mr. Tesh begged the class to give him an answer to his inquiry about who Thomas Jefferson was. The class seemed to fly by and before I knew it I was putting my books in my bag and getting ready to head out.
“Hey, Liz. How’s your head?” I turned around in surprise and then smiled as I looked down at V.J.’s concerned face. I had forgotten she was in this class.
“Oh hey. It’s actually not that bad. It looks worse than it feels,” I replied, pulling my bag over my shoulder.
“I couldn’t believe it when I heard you’d been caught up in that fight yesterday. And on your first day! You must think we’re a bunch of bloodthirsty hicks!” she giggled, but I caught the apprehension in her voice. I hastened to reassure her.
“Nah, there are fights at every school. I just seem to have bad luck.” We left class together, chatting comfortably. She asked me sit with her at lunch and I accepted, feeling that hope of normality creeping upwards again. She left me at the gym as she headed off to science class and I ducked into the girls’ locker room to change.
The locker room was one you would see at any high school in America, dank and saturated with the scent of sweat and perfume. I found an empty locker in a corner and started to undress, careful to keep a distance between myself and the other girls who were changing. I pulled on my public exercise outfit; at home I just wore shorts and a t-shirt, but in gym I had breathable stretch-leggings and a tightly fitting long-sleeved turtleneck made from the same material. The outfit was black with royal blue accents and fit me like a glove. Ignoring the curious looks I was getting from girls attired in short-shorts and tank tops, I pulled on the thin, flexible gloves that matched my ensemble. Pulling my hair up into a tight ponytail, I was ready.
“What is with your outfit? Are you going into outer space or something?” I heard a nasal, blistering accent inquire. I turned around resignedly and wasn’t surprised to see Chasisity and Jennifer standing with their hands on their hips, looking tragically like the mean cheerleaders from “Bring It On.”
“Nope,” I answered as I stuffed my clothes in the locker and slammed it shut. Without acknowledging the walking cruel girl clichés trying to catch my attention, I ambled out of the locker room and headed into the gym, only to collide with Preston, who looked suspiciously as though he were waiting outside the girls’ locker room for me.
“Hey Preston,” I said and made to move past. He gripped my upper arm and held me back. I told myself that it would be wrong to kick his ass to next week and looked at him questioningly.
“I thought you were taking the bus this morning.” His voice was like ice and his expression stony. I really didn’t like him.
“Oh, I’m sure she missed it because she was out looking for the ugliest gym outfit in the world. Thank God she was able to find it,” Chasisity’s strident voice interrupted as she came up beside us. I’m sure she thought she was very witty.
“Oh, Chasisity,” I replied, saying her name with as much contempt as I could muster, “Some of us just aren’t as comfortable with showing cellulite as you are.”
I can be catty when the situation calls for it.
She snorted and sailed on past, twitching her hips like she’d been stung by a bee.
I smirked and returned my attention to Preston, who was eyeing me hungrily. “I ended up catching a ride with Carey. He wanted to tell me about what happened at the diner yesterday.”
Preston’s eyes darkened and he opened his mouth to say something but I held up my hand.
“Look, I appreciate your help in mentoring me yesterday, and I really appreciate the ride home. But you don’t know me, so you don’t have any reason to question anything I do. Now, I’d appreciate it if you’d get your hand off my arm.” If he thought his voice was cold, he changed his mind after hearing mine. He dropped my arm like it was hot and narrowed his eyes.
“Fine. I was just trying to be friendly. I’m trying to look out for you. You’re not from around here, so you wouldn’t know, but Carey’s a real bad guy. I’d just hate to see a nice girl like you get hurt.”
I nearly choked on his patronizing tone. With extreme effort I managed to swallow the vitriol I was dying to express to the little weasel and smiled unconcernedly.
“Thanks for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.” I moved away before he could say anything else and headed for the cluster of students waiting on the bleachers. Carey emerged from the boys’ locker room, wearing knee length basketball shorts and a sleeveless shirt that displayed his mouth-watering muscles. He caught my eye and grinned. I tripped over to him and we found a seat on the bleachers together.
“I like your outfit,” Carey whispered shyly.
I smiled, and was surprised once again at how comfortable I felt with this boy I had just met. Of course, I probably knew him better than anyone thanks to my ‘talent,’ but we had definitely forged a bond over the whole Fitz thing and there was a trust flowing between us I had never experienced before. I knew for a fact that no one had ever shared so grave a secret with him, and his intrinsic sense of honor and selflessness responded to a situation like mine. He would take his promise to look after me very seriously. I found myself wishing he had a flaw, like that he enjoyed wearing ladies underpants or listened to Michael Bolton, so I could put a halt to the steadily growing attraction I was feeling for him.
We sat smiling at each other, sharing a moment of understanding and rapport. It was with regret that I pulled my gaze away to listen to Coach Dawson announce teams for the day’s exercise. To my intense dismay, I was put on the team playing against Chasisity and Preston.
Prepared to have the badminton birdie aimed at my head for the next hour, I gave Carey a wistful smile and moved forward to join my partner, a short, skinny boy with a cherubic face and red hair. He introduced himself as Quade and informed me with some embarrassment that he wasn’t very good at badminton.
“No sweat. We’ll figure it out together.” I gave him a dazzling smile, trying to boost his confidence; his eyes glazed over and his answering grin was a little lopsided. I shrugged my shoulders and turned my attention to the game. I would be damned if I was going to let those two knuckleheads show me up in game of badminton.
The rest of the hour was a blur of rackets and projectile objects. Poor Quade got smacked in the head twice by unsuccessfully aimed birdies from Chasisity, and as he had warned me, he was miserable at the game. However, my physical training made me a formidable opponent. The game was close, and by the end Preston’s face was crimson with exertion, but Quade and I prevailed by two points; he was even able to score once when Preston was glaring at me and Chasisity was rearranging her bra.
As the coach blew the whistle there was a smattering of applause. I looked around in surprise to see that half the class had finished their games early and had been watching ours. Carey was among the group and he was beaming and giving me a thumbs up. I glanced back at Preston, who was stiff with anger and pointedly ignoring me. I had a feeling we weren’t going to be friends anymore.
“Nice job everyone. On Monday you don’t need to change. We’ll be going over the basics of volleyball.” There was a universal groan from the class and Coach Dawson smiled. “It won’t be that bad, I promise. Class dismissed.” He walked off toward his office, slapping his clipboard against his thigh.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever scored!” Quade squeaked excitedly, his face shining with sweat and vindication. He looked at me as though it was somehow my doing, and I could see I had made a conquest. Sighing, I gave him a tired smile and told him congratulations as I headed to the locker room to change. Chasisity and her clone gave me a wide berth, simply throwing dark looks my way. I got dressed quickly and darted back out to the gym to find Carey leaning against the wall waiting for me. I ignored the fluttering sensation in my chest and walked sedately toward him.
“That was a heck of a game! You’re really good at sports, huh?” he asked admiringly.
I shrugged my shoulders, not wanting to draw more attention to myself. I realized belatedly I had just done the opposite of what I usually did in gym; I always shot for being average, but my irritation with Preston and Chasisity had overcome my better sense. Ashamed of myself, I resolved to be more cautious in the future.
Carey walked me to class and asked if I wanted to sit with him at lunch. I told him I had already promised V.J., though I seriously doubted anyone else at her table would welcome me, so he asked if he could join me instead. I agreed a little too heartily and subsided into class with my cheeks bright red.
Class dragged, as I’ve found math classes often do, and I was starving by the time lunch rolled around. V.J. and I walked to the cafeteria together, and I cringed when I saw the options for lunch; tuna casserole, pizza, or salad. I really needed to remember to pack a lunch next week.
I waited for pizza again while V.J. stood in the salad line. The tuna casserole station was empty, and I wondered what on earth had possessed the cooks to offer such an unappetizing option to teenagers. Lost in my musings, I was surprised to find Chasisity, Jennifer, and their shadow, Missy, in line behind me. Chasisity made a strange gargling noise in her throat that I took to be a call for my attention and I turned around with a depressing sense of familiarity.
“You think you’re hot shit, don’t you?”
Chasisity’s voice was enough to peel linoleum. I marveled that she was as high up on the food chain as she appeared to be. She had chin-length brown hair with homemade blond highlights that hung in a frizzy haze around her face. Her figure was soft looking. I imagined she relied heavily on metabolism to manage her weight, which would dry up when she hit her thirties or had a kid, and she would swell up like a balloon. Her face was a common sort of pretty, with features only made remarkable by the unpleasant expression she wore like a badge. Her friends were carbon copies of her; Jennifer looked, if possible, seedier, and Missy just looked lost. I found them singularly unimpressive. I’d been dissed by far more intimidating girls.
I gave her a withering look and turned back around. I’ve found that the best way to deal with girls like Chasisity is to ignore them. They run out of ammo and interest eventually.
“Bitch, I’m talking to you. I hope you don’t think you’re sitting at my table today. Yesterday was a free pass, but I don’t let freaks eat lunch with me.”
I just kept my back to her and swallowed the retort that sprang to my lips. It’s better this way, it’s better this way, I kept repeating like a mantra. They continued exchanging snide remarks at my expense and I stiffened my shoulders to keep from responding. I did my best to appear nonchalant, and I’m pretty sure I succeeded, but I had to admit to myself that the words stung. I was a freak, I wasn’t normal, and I would never have many friends. Though I knew the insults were born of jealousy and fear of the unknown, I still shrank a little inside.
Finally I made it out of the line, clutching my tray with white knuckles. V.J. was waiting for me with a welcoming smile and I felt immeasurably grateful to this girl who didn’t seem to mind my peculiarities, and was willing to befriend me.
“Um, I don’t know that I’m going to be welcome at your table. Chasisity made it pretty clear she didn’t want me around,” I stated frankly. I was not about t
o put myself in that harridan’s path again. I have a thick skin, but everyone has a limit.
V.J.’s amiable features tightened in anger as she searched the cafeteria for the girls in question. Evidently what she saw didn’t please her.
“What did she say to you?” she asked, her voice terse. I gave her a summary and saw her lips compress into a thin line. “Well, the hell with them. They only keep me around because of my Dad’s money anyway, and Chas is a bitch.” I raised my eyebrows at her statement and she caught my eye and laughed. “Don’t worry about it; maybe you and I can just sit together at a different table.”
“Well, Carey asked earlier if we could sit together; maybe we could join him,” I suggested.
“Carey? Carey Drake asked you to sit with him?” Her voice was incredulous. I nodded. “Wow. No wonder Chas is so pissed. Every girl in school has been after him since the sixth grade and no one has ever had any luck. He’s really nice, but he keeps to himself.” She was looking at me with astonished respect. I squirmed under her regard and cast my eyes around for him.
“Looking for me, I hope?” Carey’s voice behind me made me jump. I turned around and smiled at him.
“Yeah, actually. It seems I’m not welcome at V.J.’s usual table, so we were looking for somewhere else to sit.” Carey’s grin widened and he gave V.J. a friendly nod. She glowed under his gaze.
“Well, you guys can sit with me.” We followed him over to a table by the window at the opposite corner from Chasisity’s, and I was delighted to see her mouth drop open in a silent ‘O’ as she saw where we were headed. I managed not to give her a vindictive hand gesture and took a seat between V.J. and Carey. There were two other guys at the table, both of whom were pleasantly attractive and very friendly. A slim boy with blond hair gave V.J. a shy smile and she returned it with gusto.
At First Touch Page 7
