Sophie's Secret Crush - [Whispers 05]

by Tara West

  “Tell me, Miss Sinora,” he said as he scrunched his brow, the liver spots on his forehead, disappearing beneath the loose folds of his wrinkles. “Does your commitment to the drama club count toward your GPA?”

  “No,” I answered through a clenched jaw.

  And that’s when it hit me. I’ve known teachers who hated their jobs, teachers who clearly should not have chosen to work with kids as their career paths, but Sleznick was in a class of his own. He didn’t just hate teaching. He hated his kids and maybe himself. I wondered if his sole purpose in life was to make everyone else around him as miserable as he was.

  “So, do you plan on going Ivy League like your sisters?” he asked as the ire in his voice raised several octaves.

  Oh, great, he knew my sisters. I should have known. I wanted to tell him one of my sisters had dropped out of her snotty university and was going to community college while raising twin babies as a single parent. But I knew Sleznick would somehow use my sister’s shortcomings against me, so I refused to answer the question as I glared at my teacher from hell.

  Beside me, Frankie leaned over and nudged my elbow. When I looked into his warm brown eyes, he was grinning. “You can study at my house. My grandparents won’t bother us.”

  Murmurs and snickers could be heard throughout the class and I thought Ethan swore something unintelligible.

  Mr. Sleznick banged on his podium with his yardstick, and then he did the oddest thing. His lips peeled back in what was probably his first grin in decades, revealing several decayed and chipped teeth. Eeewww. No wonder he never smiled.

  “Just remember,” he said, “you’ll be studying history, not chemistry.”

  The snickering in the classroom grew louder.

  My gaze quickly shot to Ethan. Beneath a mop of messy hair, his neck visibly reddened. The weird thing was, I was no longer shivering, but incredibly hot.

  “Who turned up the heat?” Frankie mumbled.

  Somehow I knew it had something to do with Ethan’s mood. I tugged at my shirt, loosening my collar, as a bead of sweat trickled down the side of my face. Before I had a chance to wonder what was going on in Ethan’s mind, thoughts of anger, betrayal and rejection popped inside my head.

  Really, Ethan? You had your chance.

  I fought the urge to slap him across the back of the head. But something besides the looming threat of detention held me back.

  As I struggled to push Ethan’s feelings out of my head, a pang of guilt sliced through my chest. The last thing I’d wanted to do was hurt Ethan, the boy who’d invited me into to his circle of friends after I’d felt lost and alone when my BFFs, AJ and Krysta, moved to Salem. He’d encouraged me to try out for the school play, and had faith in my acting skills when I’d lacked faith in myself. Like me, he’d been born with magical powers. And to be perfectly honest, with his bright blue eyes, messy hair, and that cute dimple in one cheek, Ethan had the power to make me sigh with one simple smile.

  If only Ethan hadn’t freaked last week when I’d brought up the subject of witchcraft. If only he’d done the smart thing and asked me to be his girlfriend, I wouldn’t be in so deep with Frankie Salas now. But I heaved a resonant sigh as I realized it was too late for regrets. I was going to skip rehearsal today and go to Frankie’s house. I only hoped Frankie and I could keep our minds on history.

  *****

  “Ethan, wait up,” I yelled as I tried to push my way past a throng of people crowding the outside corridor staircase.

  I really hated running down the school stairs, especially after the incident involving AJ in August during school orientation. Summer Powers had been walking down the stairs in front of us, sashaying her hips as wide as humanly possible in a skirt so tight, I swear she must have bathed in butter just to zip it up. AJ had seen the pencil on the step below, and before she had time to think about her plan, she was kicking the pencil at Summer. Somehow, AJ’s foot had rolled off the pencil instead. Her feet went out from beneath her and she slipped down the entire flight of stairs, landing on the first floor with legs and arms spread wide.

  I’d been laughing too hard to be embarrassed for her. But the funniest thing was AJ never saw the fall coming. I mean, she was a psychic, after all.

  I think the rest of the Greenwood students were too terrified to tease her, but Krysta and I made pencil jokes the rest of the summer.

  And now here I was, running down that same flight of steep steps, chasing after a boy who made it clear he didn’t want to talk to me.

  What the heck was wrong with me?

  Luckily, I made it to the bottom step without incident, but Ethan was still way ahead of me, making his way across the open air foyer, and he was nearing the gym. Once he went inside the boys’ locker room, I knew I’d blow my chance.

  “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as I vaulted ahead of several students.

  He must have heard me that time because he stopped.

  I slowed my pace, bridging the gap between us while breathing a sigh of relief. Then I noticed how he continued to face away from me, hands balled into fists and back rigid.

  Okay, so he was still pissed. Whatever. I had something to say and the boy was going to listen.

  I had to walk around him, which was sort of annoying. Though he wasn’t as tall or as wide as Frankie, he was by no means a small guy, and with that two ton backpack he had strapped across his shoulders, I felt like I was talking to a big, hulking beast.

  Make that sulking beast.

  My heartbeat began to quicken as I gazed up at his face. Just one look into his cloudy eyes, and I knew he was beyond upset. Damn, he sure knew how to tug on my heartstrings.

  “What?” he asked through a heavy sigh as he dropped his gaze to the pavement.

  Gawd. He couldn’t even look at me. I didn’t need to ask why as feelings of rejection and hurt radiated off his skin and penetrated my psyche.

  “I wanted to talk to you,” I said, dropping my voice. I took a step toward him, closing the distance between us as I searched his face, hoping he’d make eye contact.

  Somehow, he must have sensed my tone of pity, because his sense of humiliation grew stronger.

  “I’m listening,” he mumbled.

  Crap. This wasn’t working. How could I make him know that, despite what he’d seen between Frankie and me, I still cared for Ethan? Really cared.

  Resolved to make him understand my true feelings, I straightened my shoulders. No use evading the obvious. Ethan was upset over Frankie. He needed to know the truth. “I know you think Frankie’s my boyfriend, but he’s not.”

  He raised his eyes to mine, and I thought I saw a flicker of hope. “Does that mean you’re going to rehearsal?”

  My heart did a little flip when our gazes locked. The thought of ditching Frankie and practicing with Ethan crossed my mind, but I had to quickly push it away. I couldn’t leave Frankie to face this test alone, not when it was his first day of school. Besides, even though I hated to admit it, Mr. Sleznick was right. Passing history was far more important than drama club.

  I shook my head, and my chest felt as if the wind was being sucked out of it as a look of pain flashed across Ethan’s features.

  “I have to study, Ethan.”

  His face hardened. “I’ll tell Mrs. Jahns you won’t be there,” he said in a strained voice.

  I swear I felt a chill wind ruffle my hair before snaking around my spine. “Maybe you can study with us,” I said, trying to sound hopeful, but even as the words slipped off my tongue, I knew it was a bad idea. Yeah, Ethan, Frankie, and me studying together. I was sure that would go over well.

  I thought I heard him laugh under his breath. “I’ll just pull an all-nighter.”

  An all-nighter? That was dedication. Honestly, I needed my sleep. If I got any less than six hours, I could hardly drag myself out of bed, let alone focus on a test.

  Then Ethan brushed past me, the surprising warmth radiating off him chasing away the chill in my bones as he called over his should
er. “Have fun studying with Frankie.” There was no mistaking the venom in his tone. When Frankie’s name slipped off his tongue, I felt the sting of his rejection to the core of my heart.

  As I watched Ethan walk away, I could tell he was hurting by the stoop of his shoulders and the way he hung his head. I couldn’t let our conversation end like this. Ethan’s friendship meant too much to me.

  Without a second thought, I lunged forward. “Ethan, wait!” I called, latching onto his arm. Then a shrill scream burst from my throat as I jerked my hand away. My skin was on fire! I looked at my hand in horror as the tips of my red, swollen fingers began to blister before my eyes.

  Holy hell!

  Ethan was by my side in a heartbeat. I was vaguely aware of tears streaming down my face as I fanned my hand, trying to cool my aching fingers.

  “I’m sorry,” he groaned, while his gaze darted around to the others students who’d stopped to stare at us. “Do you need to go to the nurse?”

  “No.” I shook my head, willing my tears to subside, but damn, I felt more slip down my cheek, anyway.

  Ethan’s face fell. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He edged closer to me while holding out a hand. “Let me see.”

  “Don’t touch me!” Instinctively, I jerked back.

  Pain flashed in Ethan’s eyes as his overwhelming feelings of despair and guilt projected into my brain, shooting an arrow straight to my heart. Poor Ethan. I hadn’t meant to upset him.

  “I’ll just go get some ice.” I shrugged, pretending my first degree burns were no big deal. “Besides, you’ve got to get to class.” Straightening my shoulders, I looked into his concerned expression. I plastered on my best fake smile. “I’ll be fine,” I lied.

  But would I? I mean, my witchy powers were sometimes a major pain in the butt, but when people’s thoughts projected into my brain, nobody was injured. Strange, because I’d always considered my gift a curse, but as Ethan sulked away toward the gym, I suddenly realized I didn’t have it so bad. I wondered how many other people Ethan had hurt like this and if that was why he’d been sending me mixed messages. I knew Ethan liked me, but he’d refused to make a move. Was he too afraid he’d end up physically hurting me? Because now it was obvious Ethan wasn’t just any witch. The boy was dangerous.

  Chapter Five

  As I walked into Frankie’s grandparent’s house, I was overwhelmed by a musty smell, kind of like a mixture between moldy carpet and stale cigarettes. I wanted to gag. Despite the low light, from what I could tell, the place was a mess. Fast food wrappers and empty water bottles cluttered the small dining room and adjacent living area. The threadbare furniture had rips, and stuffing was coming out of the arms. A bearded old man laid back in a recliner inches from a bulky television set. His head was tilted to one side while he loudly snored. Several empty beer cans littered the area around him.

  Good thing my neat freak mom wasn’t here to see this. She would have had a fit. Frankie’s family’s house actually made my room look immaculate on its worst day.

  “Carlos? Is that you?” A thin Hispanic woman with heavy circles under each eye and uncombed, long greying hair emerged from a darkened doorway and wobbled toward us. She pulled a stained cotton robe across her chest before squinting up at Frankie. Then she flashed a nearly toothless smile and held her arms open. “It is you.”

  “Yeah.” His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes as he leaned down and let her wrap him in a hug.

  I adjusted the strap on my bookbag, which was digging into my shoulder, then I cradled my sore hand to my chest while watching the two share awkward affection. Carlos? Who the heck is Carlos?

  The woman pulled back and pointed a shaky finger at me. “Ooohhh, you’ve brought a girl home.”

  Frankie wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. “Mama, this is Sophie.”

  She clasped her hands together as a glimmer of excitement flashed in her dull eyes. “What a lovely girl you are.”

  “Thank you.” I attempted what I hoped was a genuine looking smile. There was something not quite right about this whole situation, starting with the fact that Frankie—no Carlos—lived in a dump pretending to be the son of this woman who had to be close to eighty-years-old.

  The woman ran bony fingers through her hair while absently scanning the room. “Have you seen Chico?” she asked Frankie.

  Frankie’s expression fell before he rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. “Not again,” he groaned.

  She began clapping her hands and whistling through a hollow wheeze in her chest. “Chico!” she called. “Come here, boy!”

  Frankie grabbed the old woman by the shoulder. “He’s at the groomers.”

  She stared up at him for a moment, mouth agape. “Oh. I went to feed him and we’re out of Kibbles.”

  Frankie squeezed her shoulder before dropping his hand to his side. I could feel the tension radiating off of him as he let out a slow breath. “I’ll pick up some dog food when I get Chico.”

  She smiled warmly at Frankie as she reached up and kissed him on the cheek. “Such a good boy. Are you hungry? Do you want me to fix tamales?”

  “No, Mama. You need rest.” Frankie held up the bag of greasy fast food we’d picked up on the way home from school. “I brought home take-out.”

  “Oh, how nice.” She clasped her hands together while taking the bag from Frankie. “I don’t have to cook dinner for a change.” She turned and trudged through a pile of fast food bags strewn across the floor. She walked into the small living room, kicking aside the empty beer cans. She leaned over the snoring old man and shook the bag in front of his face. “Papí!” she practically screeched, “dinner’s ready!”

  The old man sat up in his chair with a start, looking around the room in a daze. One side of his white hair was sticking straight up, and a long trail of drool hung from his bearded chin. “You scared me, woman,” he growled. “I was taking a nap.”

  “You’re going to sleep your life away.” She laughed before pointing at Frankie. “Carlos brought us dinner.”

  “Thanks, Carlos,” the old man said wryly as he flashed Frankie a knowing grin.

  Frankie smiled back. “De nada, Papí.” Then he laced his fingers through mine and pulled me in the opposite direction.

  We walked through a hallway lined with stacks of old newspapers and dusty shelves with knick knacks covered in cobwebs. When we reached the very last room, I cringed as I followed Frankie inside. I was expecting to be exposed to more filth.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw a sparsely furnished but spotless room. Pushed against the back wall was a twin bed beneath a window with faded curtains. Beside the bed was an iPod connected to a small speaker. A weathered but newly polished dresser sat opposite the bed. The room couldn’t have been much bigger than my mom’s walk-in closet, but I kind of liked the cozy feeling of being in a cramped space with Frankie.

  And that scared me. Big time.

  I let go of Frankie’s hand and held my sore fingers. Despite the ice pack I clutched in my palm, my flesh still burned. I wondered why being alone with Frankie frightened me so much when Ethan was the one who’d hurt me.

  You’ve been burned by Frankie, too, Sophie, a small voice inside my head reminded me. Though not physically, Frankie had burned me when he’d moved away last year. He hadn’t messaged me until a week before he’d moved back.

  Why?

  Warily, I watched him shrug his backpack to the floor and set our sodas down on the nightstand. He sank into his bed, stretching out his long legs while he leaned back against the wall. He patted the mattress, flashing that same bad boy grin.

  I had to remind myself I was here to study history, not chemistry. Besides, that little voice in the back of my head nagged me, what about Ethan?

  For some reason, I couldn’t summon the nerve to propel my feet forward. I watched with trepidation as he continued to pat the bed.

  “I won’t bite, Sophie,” he teased.

  “I kno
w that,” I lied.

  Truthfully, I didn’t know what Frankie Salas had in store for me, but whatever mischief he was cooking inside his head, I knew it couldn’t be good. He had that look about him, like he wanted to do more than just study. And though I had kind of made a promise to myself I would only use my mind-reading abilities in dire situations, I figured the possibility of being seduced by the devil himself was dire enough.

  Probing his brain was harder than I’d expected. His mind was abuzz with excitement, but there was another emotion that bubbled just beneath the current of his psyche—fear. Actually, terror would have been a better description. Frankie Salas, the beautiful bronze-skinned god who was smiling seductively up at me was terrified. But of what? Me? How could a boy like him be terrified of any girl?

  Then his thoughts rang clearly in my mind. She doesn’t like you. Look at the way she’s looking at you.

  I forced myself to plaster on a smile. How was I looking at him? Was I glaring? My mom always said I had an expressive face, and that my moods projected onto others. Was this what she was talking about? I swallowed what felt to be a lump of granite lodged in my throat as I clutched my injured fingers and willed my limbs to stop shaking.

  I heard his mental sigh before he continued. She’s the only girl, and you’re about to blow it.

  The only girl? Impossible. I’d seen his Facebook wall of girl trophies, or what I liked to refer to as my personal wall of shame. There was no way I was ‘the only girl.’ My mind must have been playing tricks on me, or else his mind was playing tricks on us both. So he’d ignored me for a year, but his heart had stayed loyal? No, there had to be another explanation.

  I still hadn’t taken a step toward his bed, because despite what I’d heard in his head, I didn’t trust Frankie. In fact, I think I trusted him even less.

  “Come on,” he pleaded while batting impossibly long lashes. “No bedbugs. I made sure of it.”

  My shoulders fell when I realized I couldn’t very well stand there forever. I had come to study with Frankie. I’d known what I was getting into. Slowly, I walked toward him, shrugged my bag to the floor, and lowered myself onto the bed. I hesitantly looked into his warm eyes and flashed what I knew to be an awkward smile.