by Edie Claire
My stomach did a flip-flop. Lacey had said that Sofia hung out with older kids… drop outs, mainly. The wheels in my brain turned, and I took a steadying breath. "This probably wasn’t the first time, then," I thought out loud. "I’ll bet Sofia has a bad-news boyfriend who’s been beating her up for a while now. A boyfriend she’s been keeping a secret—particularly from Rod."
Zane’s response was interrupted by a cluster of chattering girls banging into the bathroom. I pretended to fix my hair in the mirror, then walked back out into the gym.
"What are you going to do, Kali?" Zane asked, a warning note in his voice.
"Talk sense into Matt, of course," I murmured, weaving through the crowd toward where the football player sat, currently alone. Yet even as I walked, I could see Morgan, flanked by several of the girls she had been talking to earlier, move deliberately toward him, her face steeled for confrontation...
"Kali," Zane whispered urgently, "do you see—"
"I’m on it."
My pace doubled. I cut the girls off in their tracks and swooped in on the table like a diving bird, grabbing up both cups of punch and gesturing Matt toward the doors. "Let’s take a walk," I suggested.
He blinked at me, then rose with a smile. "Sure, whatever."
We set off toward the exit, and my peripheral vision caught Morgan and her inquisitorial squad huddled in discussion. I threw Zane a look. He nodded, and his form blurred. In the next instant, he had joined them.
I led Matt outside into the breeze.
"Are you having a good time?" he asked, seeming concerned. We polished off our punches with a few gulps each, threw our cups away, and began a slow saunter around the courtyard. I really didn’t want to walk too far from the crowd, figuring that Morgan would be more tempted to confront him—or us—if we were alone. And Morgan’s confronting him was an event to be avoided.
"I was having a great time," I said honestly, choosing not to delay. "But I overheard something else, Matt. And it’s got me really worried."
I did overhear it, I rationalized to my lie-sensitive conscience. I overheard it when Zane told me about it.
"Oh, Kali," Matt said dismissively. "Will you stop worrying about this thing with Sofia? It’s just a bunch of drama."
"No, it’s not," I insisted. "She’s in the hospital. Last night somebody beat her up so bad they broke a bone in her face."
Matt’s feet stopped walking. He turned toward me, the color drained from his face. "What?"
"It’s true," I continued. "Her cousin has been telling people. Sofia insists she had a fall, but the family knows better. They just don’t know who did it, because Sofia’s been keeping the guy—assuming it is a guy, which is pretty likely—a secret."
Matt stared back at me for several seconds, evidently unable to take it in. "Is she going to be okay?" he asked finally.
I wanted to stomp my foot in frustration. It was nice of him to ask after her health, yes. But seriously. Could he still not see the connection?
"I don’t know," I stammered. "But right now, I’m more worried about you. Rod is protective of her, her cousin and her whole family are protective of her, and right now they consider you suspect number one!"
Matt blinked at me for another moment. Then, unaccountably, he broke into a chuckle. "Are you kidding me? That’s ridiculous. I told you, I barely know—"
He stopped suddenly, looking at me with undisguised alarm. "Kali, you can’t possibly believe—"
This time I did stomp my foot. "Of course I don’t!" I declared. "No one who knows you would! But Sofia’s family doesn’t know you. And you’re the guy she asked to the dance! Don’t you get it?"
Matt’s brow creased into a frown. He put his hands squarely on my shoulders. "So I’ll set them straight," he said in a low voice. "But it’s nothing for you to worry about."
I stared back into his uncomplicated blue eyes. He understood the basics; he just wasn’t particularly worried about the situation. And it seemed to annoy him that I was.
"Matt—"
"Drop it, Kali," Zane’s voice broke suddenly into my thoughts, confusing me into silence. He seemed to be standing right behind me. "You’ve said all you can say. Any more is going to backfire."
"What?" Matt said shortly, dropping his hands from my shoulders.
"It’s just that—"
"Will you stop?" Zane insisted, his voice harsher. "He’s a guy, Kali. You think he wants to be saved by you? You keep it up and he’ll get reckless on purpose."
My jaws clenched. I could see it with my own eyes—Zane was right. The more I played up the danger of the situation to Matt, the more he would downplay it.
The male ego was so freakin’ irritating!
"Nothing," I finished, attempting to regroup. "So long as you know, I guess you can handle it."
"Thanks," he replied, with an uncharacteristic hint of sarcasm.
We resumed walking, this time in an awkward silence, across the green space and back toward the parking lot. The shadows were so thick we walked through a few, but if they were casting off any emotion, my own angst was drowning it out.
Matt stopped suddenly. "Kali," he said softly, taking my hand again. "I do appreciate your looking out for me. Really."
I looked up into his honest baby blues, and melted a little. "No problem," I whispered.
We were too far inland to hear the waves, but an ocean breeze still managed to reach us. It would have been a wonderful night for a walk… if only. I felt a drop of water on my arm and looked up into a starless, inky sky.
"So," Matt said finally, his voice back to its usual, jovial tone. "You’re telling your parents you want to go to Frederick, right?"
The feeling hit me like a blast from a paint gun. The entire left side of my body stung with its venom, and for a moment, I thought my knees would buckle.
Pure, unadulterated rage.
"Zane!" I squeaked, unable to think, unable to move.
"What?" Matt asked, puzzled.
"What?" Zane asked, surprised.
I let out a string of curses… but this time was smart enough to keep them in my head. My legs trembled. I broke out in a sweat. The brisk wind hit my newly clammy skin—and I shivered.
"Kali," Matt said with concern, "are you all right?"
Rod was here. I knew it with as much certainty as I had ever known anything. He was here somewhere, just out of sight. He was watching us. He was waiting for Matt.
I opened my mouth again, but snapped it shut. I could not tell Zane what I felt—not with Matt here. And I could not let Matt confront the source of that feeling… that raw, burning, murderous feeling…
Think, Kali! Think!
I whirled around, but could not tell where Rod might be. The sensation seemed to be everywhere now, pressing in on us like a pack of circling wolves.
Inspiration struck. I forced the words into my throat. "I’m sorry," I apologized, looking around with what I hoped appeared like mild, curious interest. "You know how sometimes you get the feeling that someone is watching you?" As I twirled, my gaze met Zane, and I stared at him hard.
"Yeah," Matt said, "you feel that now?"
"I do," I confirmed.
"You think Rod is here?" Zane asked pointedly.
If I could, I would have kissed him.
I directed the slightest of nods at Zane, then turned back to Matt. I even managed to smile. "But then, I’m always getting random feelings like that. I really do like this school, even if it is a little creepy at night. So, it’s official—I’m telling my parents I want to go here."
Matt grinned back at me, blissfully unaware of my charade. He took both my hands in his. "That’s great, Kali. Best news I’ve had all night." His eyes twinkled as he spoke, and for one nail-biting moment, I thought for sure he would kiss me. But perhaps I had acted too weird tonight, after all. Instead of leaning in, he contented himself by throwing his arm around my shoulders. "I guess it can seem a little creepy around here," he said lightly, hugging me to his
side. "Particularly when it’s about to rain. Not to mention the fact that Oahu is known for its ghosts. You want to go back in now? The nearest door’s this way."
I nodded gratefully, and he turned and steered me back in the direction of the building.
We had not moved three steps before Zane appeared directly in front of us. "Stop!" he ordered, his hands upraised.
Matt continued forward, walking halfway through him. I stalled in my steps, colliding with Zane’s outstretched arm, noting its familiar, rippling buzz in my flesh even as my sudden halt caused Matt to stumble and nearly trip us both.
"Rod’s hiding right around that corner," Zane said urgently, his green eyes blazing into mine. "And, Kali…"
I felt my heart drop into my shoes.
"He has a knife."
Chapter 13
"Sorry," I squeaked, having trouble finding my voice again. "I don’t know what I tripped over."
Matt’s clueless blue eyes sparkled again. "Better watch those ankles," he said smoothly, supporting me with a firm hand around the waist. "If you couldn’t dance anymore, it would be a crime. Which reminds me… are you a dancer, like, for real?"
"Let’s go back in the other doors," I said nonsensically, hoping against hope that he would dismiss the bizarre request the same way he was dismissing every other bizarre thing I had said and done all evening.
He did. As I pulled him away from the corner where Rod lay in wait and back toward the same doors we had exited, he made no complaint, asked for no explanation… even though the promised rain was already starting to fall.
"Yes, I’m a dancer," I babbled, irritated, despite myself, that we had finally gotten to this particular discussion only to have it play out under duress. "I’ve been taking lessons since I was six."
"I knew it," he said smugly. "What kind of dance?"
The rain fell harder. But with every step we took, the poisonous vibe emanating from Matt’s pursuer seemed to lessen.
"Ballet, jazz, hip hop, modern, tap," I listed mechanically, trying to calm my mind, even as my heart still pounded with adrenaline. "But I suck at tap. And hip hop’s not really my thing, either. Jazz is my favorite."
"You look like a ballerina," Matt commented.
My eyebrows rose. That was what my teachers always said—that my body type was better suited to ballet. Why he would think that was beyond me, but as the image of dull steel glinting in Rod’s unsteady hand continued to flash in my mind, I put reaching the gym doors ahead of conversation and maintained our hurried pace.
We stepped out of the rain and into the safety of the building none too soon. Never mind that my sundress was already so soggy the skirt was clinging to my thighs. Sofia’s cousin hovered just inside the door like a vulture, making me wonder if she had planned to pursue Matt outside, whether he was with me or not. But upon our reappearance my popular date—who did not even notice Morgan standing there glaring at him—was immediately surrounded by friends again.
"Hey, quit disappearing on us!" Ryan chided. "The party’s not over yet!"
"Yeah," David added, "We’re going to make Mr. Hagiwara kick our butts out again."
"Which he will, in twenty minutes," Madison announced, looking at her phone.
"Stay with the group," Zane ordered from behind me. "Rod’s alone—he won’t try anything with these guys around."
"So let’s get back out there!" David whooped, taking his date by the hand.
"Just… go dance some more," Zane suggested, his tone unusually clipped. "The other girls talked Morgan out of confronting Matt, at least tonight. You’ll be all right."
"Let’s do it!" Julia hooted.
"Come on, Kali!" Matt said with enthusiasm, all drama forgotten. He darted behind me, swooping me up with an arm around the waist and propelling me forward in a move that, had Zane been alive, would have given both guys concussions. I winced at the imagined collision, but when my eyes reopened, Zane was nowhere to be seen.
He stayed out of sight through the next three numbers, and the slow dance that followed them. I tried to put thoughts of Rod out of my head, at least temporarily, in order to finish what would otherwise have been an enjoyable dance on a positive note. But though Matt appeared completely unencumbered by any concerns about his own wellbeing, I was not the only one worrying on his behalf. No sooner had the last chords of the slow dance been struck than a female hand appeared on his upper arm, interrupting what appeared to be another session of deliberation, on his part, about whether or not to kiss me.
"What do you want, Lacey?" He said with annoyance, releasing his hold on me. "Whatever it is, your timing seriously sucks."
"Yeah, well, so does your sense of self preservation," Lacey snapped. "Can we talk a minute?"
Matt looked from her to me, then rolled his eyes. "Not if you’re going to tell me the same lame story about how Rod’s out to get me because he thinks I beat up his girl, no."
Lacey cast a questioning glance at me, then planted her hands on her generous hips. "Look, Matt. Krystal said—"
"Lace!" he interrupted. His tone was gruff, but as he laid his large hands heavily on both her shoulders, it was obvious he did so with an affectionate familiarity. "I’ve heard this already. I’ll talk to Rod about it over the weekend, all right? I appreciate the concern, but as you can clearly see, I’m on a date."
"You wish," she quipped. "All the more reason to watch your back."
Still gripping her shoulders, Matt leaned in, planted a loud smack of a kiss on her cheek, then turned her around and released her with a push. "Thank you! Now go away. Doesn’t Ty get off at eleven?"
"Midnight," she said sulkily, "and I’m not waiting up this time, either." She offered me a smile. "It was nice meeting you, Kali. I’ll see you again sometime, I hope."
"Absolutely." I smiled back, suddenly warmed by the realization that—even as I struggled with how to handle my unnaturally acquired information—Matt’s friends were watching out for him the old fashioned way. Various girls who liked and trusted him had been talking Morgan down all night, and Lacey had been sent to warn him specifically about Rod. The guys might still be clueless, but they would be there for him if needed, I was sure of that.
I took an easy, deep breath—quite possibly my first of the night. Everything would be okay. We would walk to the parking lot as a group, and Matt and I would safely drive away. Rod would give up, go home, and—with luck—cool down and come to his senses before meeting Matt again.
"Now," Matt continued smoothly, sliding his arms around my waist once more. "Where were we?"
Another slow song had already begun. I wrapped my arms around Matt’s neck and allowed myself to relax—a little—and enjoy the music. I knew that people were watching us, as they had all night, but I chose to believe it was intrigue over the new girl, rather than Morgan’s gossip, that was behind most of the sly smiles and awkwardly averted glances. Perhaps, as Lacey had hinted, Matt was showing more interest in me than his crowd was used to seeing.
And if he was?
I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.
The last slow dance of the night, as it turned out, offered no chance for dying-chords canoodling but segued immediately—and loudly—into a raucous number that brought down the house. Julia and Madison offered me a fine tribute by perfecting a particular Cheyenne-born move I had taught them earlier in the evening, and David’s attempts at break dancing had us all laughing until we cried. We swept out of the school and into the parking lot in the midst of a wave of chattering people, and as we reached Matt’s car and said our goodbyes I felt a dramatic sense of relief—even as I scanned the area for any signs of a lurking Rod.
I could see no sign of him, nor of Zane. I did not believe that Rod had left the school; the negative vibe created by his wrath still lingered, even though I sensed that we were out of his immediate range. Zane’s own absence was mildly disturbing, but I calmed myself by rationalizing that if Rod was making a move toward us, Zane would certainly appear to warn
me.
And he did.
Matt and I were several miles outside of Honolulu, traveling north on the road that led back to the North Shore, before our perfectly enjoyable, albeit mundane conversation about car engines was interrupted by Zane’s sudden appearance in the back seat. I did not need to look at him twice to know that he was worried.
Zane could appear to wear whatever he wanted when he was thinking about it, but at the moment, he didn't appear to be thinking about it at all. The result was the sort of outfit a living person would reach for on a rainy, cold morning when they felt like crap and had no intention of going out anyway.
He appeared in grungy jeans and a solid, dark-colored tee shirt, his hands sunk deep into the pockets of a medium gray hoody that looped partway over his head, hiding all but a few, rather mussed looking curls. He did not speak immediately, but studied Matt and me for a moment, seeming to take the measure of the conversation. He also seemed to be deliberating within himself.
After another five or so minutes, during which time the conversation had turned to motorcycles, I could stand it no longer. I turned my head over my right shoulder, out of Matt’s view, and threw Zane an emphatic "What is it?" look he couldn’t possibly misinterpret.
He had the gall to look away.
My stomach flip-flopped. I tried again, this time conveying a threat along with my silent plea.
"I’m sorry, Kali," he said finally, in a voice so low I had to work to hear it over Matt’s monologue—a monologue I was no longer following in the slightest. "I’m only stalling in telling you this because I can’t decide the best thing to do about it. And you’re going to need a cool head."
Matt had paused. He was looking at me. I made a suitably generic response, and he resumed talking.
Zane’s face bore a pained expression. "Rod isn’t giving up, Kali. He’s following you in his car."
My heart skipped a beat. Surely not. That was insane.
"I don’t know exactly where his head’s at—I can’t read people like you can," Zane continued. "But he’s upset, there’s no question about that. Sweating bullets, hands clenched on the wheel. I just don’t know what he would do if he met Matt face to face right now."
