Betraying Innocence

by Phoenix, Airicka

  “Is anything broken?” Her mother’s firmer hands replaced her father’s careful ones, groping, squeezing, lifting, dropping, wiggling limbs and appendages until she was satisfied that nothing had been broken during the fall. “Can you walk?”

  Ana wobbled a little with the pain that shot up her right leg. “My leg hurts, but I think I’m okay.”

  “Careful!” her father said when she began edging around the puddle of ice.

  “I have to go!” she said urgently. “I probably already missed my bus. God, on my first day, too!”

  “Be careful!” her mother shouted after her as she half ran, half limped to the door and her bag.

  With a wave to her parents, she snatched up her bag and hurried out the door. Warm coils of sunrays poured through the thick canopy of trees, beating into her eyes as she made a mad dash for the corner where she’d been told the bus would pick her up every morning. The stop sign was there, exactly where she’d nearly T-boned Rafe’s car only weeks earlier, but no bus.

  “Oh, please don’t tell me I missed it!” she whined, hopping from foot to foot while craning her neck to peer down the road. She absentmindedly rubbed at the tender spot just along her thigh where she knew she would find a nice purple bruise later.

  Clouded by her panic, she didn’t hear the roar of engine, or the squeal of tires grinding gravel until the black Firebird swerved down the street and came barreling towards her. It came to a screeching halt and a familiar voice shouted, “Need a lift?”

  Ana turned, surprised to find anyone else on the deserted road with her. Rafe offered her a grin from the driver’s seat. It was his trademark smirk, a little void of its usual smugness, but sexy all the same. Only this time, it didn’t fill her with spirals of heat. This time, when she stared into those daunting brown eyes, her stomach sank into a vat of ice. Why did it have to be him?

  “Hello?” He waved the hand he’d rested over the back of the passenger’s seat.

  “I’m okay,” she lied, turning away. “The bus will be here soon.” She hoped.

  “Not unless you plan on standing there all night,” he said. “The bus already left.”

  Her shoulders sagged. Her bag slipped off and she caught it by the strap before it could hit the ground. The urge to just pivot on her heels and march home came and was quickly squashed. If she went home, it would only further induce her parents into fretting even more than they already were and she’d had all the fussing she could handle.

  He threw open his door and climbed out. His sneakers crunched on pebbles as he rounded to the passenger’s side and opened it for her. “Come on.”

  Why him? she asked for the second time as she succumbed, shuffling her feet in his direction. Was he going to ask? she wondered, slipping past him into the warm leather. Would he want to know? She stuffed her backpack down by her feet and smoothed her skirt away from the door so he could slam it shut, trapping her in the familiar scent of rain, spices and freshly mowed grass. Of course he was going to. The car bobbed and shook under his weight as he slipped into his seat next to hers and slammed the door.

  “Thank you,” she murmured, pulling the belt across her chest and snapping it into place.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, pulling into drive and blowing down the road as if the devil himself were after them.

  She started to tell him to slow down, that he was going to get them killed, but fear of starting a conversation and distracting him kept a lock on her tongue. She dug her nails into the leather seat, using them as anchors.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  Ana winced as she realized just what he meant by that. “Fine.”

  Please don’t ask anything else! Please just drive. She couldn’t stand it if he asked about that morning in the rain. She didn’t remember him being there, but her mom had told her how he’d found her being possibly kidnapped and bringing her home. It had been humiliating to hear. She couldn’t believe how out of it she’d been. She’d never had a mental break down before, but she was pretty sure hers was a doozy. Only problem now was seeing the guy who rescued her and wondering if he thought she was bat-shit crazy.

  “Here we are,” he said at last, carving into the tension while twisting the wheel into the parking lot of a large, gray building.

  The lot was empty, everyone already inside, finding their classes, meeting up with their friends and at their lockers exchanging books. She was the only one straggling — on her first day. By the time Rafe pulled into an empty spot, she had forgotten everything except how scared she was, how excited. At her old school, she had grown up with everyone in her class, but here at Darcy Clifton High she was new, she was the anomaly. What if no one liked her? What if she had to sit alone at lunch? What if she did something stupid, or said something stupid?

  “Hey, you okay?”

  Ana jolted at the soft murmur of Rafe’s voice, having completely forgotten about him. She quickly shook herself, plastering what she hoped was a reassuring smile on her face.

  “Yeah!” Needing to be away from him, away from the tight confines of his car, she threw open the door and leapt out. Restraining her urge to bolt she ducked her head back in, forced herself to meet his gaze, and added, “Thank you for the ride.”

  Then, she grabbed her bag, slammed the door and ran.

  Chapter Eight

  Ana

  Inside, the halls were empty except for her and she wondered just how late she was and what a massive screw up this was. Being new was bad enough, but to walk into class late…

  “Why do you hate me?” she groaned to the ceiling.

  “No one hates anyone here.” A tall, handsome man in his mid-forties walked towards her, smiling charmingly. He wore a navy-blue suit. His dark hair was swept to the side and he wore black framed glasses — very Clark Kent in her opinion. “Hello,” he said, offering her his hand. “You must be Rosanna.”

  “Ana,” she corrected, accepting the soft, warm hand in a quick shake, praying to all that was holy that her palm wasn’t as clammy as it felt.

  He smiled, exposing a single dimple in his left cheek. “I’m Principal Finnegan.” He released her hand and took a step back. “Why don’t you let me show you to the office? We’ll get you all set up and on your way. How does that sound?”

  Ana nodded. “Sounds great.”

  He made a sweep of his arm for her to start forward, but the door behind her swung open and Rafe trudged in, hands buried in his pockets, shoulders hunched. Mr. Finnegan’s smile vanished.

  “You’re late, Mr. Ramirez!” he said sharply. “Get to class!”

  Only Ana saw the roll of Rafe’s eyes as he lumbered past her. Their eyes met for a split second and something snapped between them. It was electric, like the spark after shuffling your feet on carpet. A gasp rose up in her throat. She bit it down. Then all that was left was his retreating back.

  “Mr. Finnegan?” Ana turned to the man beside her. “It wasn’t Rafe’s fault he was late. He stopped to give me a ride when I was late catching the bus.”

  Something like concern crinkled the man’s brow. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something, something important, but just as quickly, he swallowed it back and said instead, “We don’t accept tardiness here at Darcy Clifton. I recommend that in the future, should you miss your bus, you find another mode of transportation. It would not do well for your … character, if you were misjudged by the people you associated with.”

  Ana didn’t know how to take that. But just as easily, the smile returned and he was gesturing for Ana to follow him.

  The secretary, a tiny woman with thick glasses that made her eyes appear enormous, smiled kindly at Ana when she walked into the office. She gave Ana her class schedule, a map of the school, a planner and a scrap of paper with her locker combo. She wished her good luck on her first day then went back to rapping on the keys of her ancient computer.

  Items clutched to her chest, Ana shuffled out of the office, pausing just outside to look at the map a
nd her schedule.

  It said she had English first period, which was located on the second floor, east wing. She turned the map over, located the square marked, Office and followed it down a long corridor to a set of stairs. Stuffing her locker combo into the side pocket of her backpack, she dashed down the hall, keeping one eye on the map. Her shoes squeaked against laminate and her right hip ached, but she pushed on, taking the stairs two at a time until she reached the top. When she reached the room marked on her paper, she was out of breath, disheveled and sweaty. She smoothed down her hair and her dress and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand. It was the best she could do for the moment. Her heart still hammering with nerves and anticipation, she raised a hand and knocked softly on the door.

  The low hum of someone talking ceased. Footsteps approaching the door clapped on linoleum. Then the door swung open and she was staring into the eyes of a tall, broad shouldered man with very little hair on his head and squinty green eyes behind silver framed glasses. The hair he did have grew out of the sides of his head in orange tufts, reminding her of a clown she’d once seen at the circus. He blinked down at Ana.

  “Yes?”

  Ana swallowed. “Uh, hi, I’m new … this is my first class?” She hadn’t meant to make it sound like a question, but her tongue kept slipping over words, making them impossible to keep straight. So, she shoved her schedule at him and hoped that explained things.

  He adjusted his glasses, blinked at the seven neat columns, nodded as if to confirm she was in fact correct and passed back the paper.

  “Come in then,” he said, stepping back and waving her inside.

  Her shoes felt like cinderblocks as she slipped past him. They felt awkward and too big. But her fears of stumbling never came to pass as she found herself at the head of the class, frozen in place by no less than thirty curious eyes.

  “Class this is…” He glanced at her, “What was your name again?”

  “Rosanna, but—”

  “Rosanna,” he said, ignoring her sputtering. “She’s new to the school so I hope you’ll all help make her feel welcome.”

  “I’d love to make her feel welcome!” a boy in the back drawled, eliciting a round of laughter from the others and a dark flush from Ana.

  Mr. Ingram — or so it said on her schedule — didn’t seem to catch the dark innuendo in the crude statement.

  He smiled and nodded approvingly. “Excellent! That’s the spirit, Mr. Donnelly.” As the rest of the class snickered at his ignorance, he turned to Ana. “Find a seat, please.”

  Bottling back the urge to run, Ana hurried to the first available seat and dropped into it, keeping her head down and her face curtained behind her hair, not that that seemed to stop the others from staring holes into her.

  English class didn’t end quickly enough in her opinion. It seemed to take hours rather than the hour long lesson it was. Ana had tried to listen, tried to focus, but every time she glanced up, there was someone watching her as if she were a mutant species from space. Several times she heard those around her whispering about her, loud enough that she could hear it, but not loud enough to get caught. And they were never good things they were saying. Apparently, someone had seen her get out of Rafe’s car so that seemed to be the highlight of conversation. Then there were speculations on why she was there, the shoes she was wearing, and her hair. It was all so frustrating.

  Not nearly soon enough, the bell shrilled. Chairs scraped on laminate. Feet clapped. Desks rattled. Voices rose as people gathered their things and prepared to leave. But no one actually left. They hovered around their desks, chatting and slanting Ana sidelong glances.

  “All right, you lazy lot!” a female voice shattered the low hum of whispers. “Be off!”

  Before Ana could find the source of the voice, a long warm arm slipped into the crook of her elbow and she was pulled next to a girl with choppy black hair, a hoop in her nose and black lipstick. There were thick, purple streaks hidden amongst her helmet of black hair. Her eyebrows were penciled in, thin and curled near her temples. Ana couldn’t be certain, but her eyelashes may have been fake; they stretched out like butterfly wings over each eyelid, curling back to brush her eyebrows. She wore red and black checkered pants and a tight black t-shirt that told anyone looking to eat nails. There was a studded dog collar around her throat and a spiked bracelet on each wrist — definitely not what Ana had come to expect of Chipawaha Creek.

  “They are a nosy bunch,” the girl said to Ana. “I think it would be best if we just fed the wolves now and save you future gawking sessions such as this one.” She cleared her throat. “So, are you the daughter of a celebrity who is now currently in rehab?”

  Ana frowned. “What? No!”

  “Are you a criminal running from the law?”

  “No!” Who was this girl?

  As if reading Ana’s mind, the girl sighed, rolling her piercing blue eyes heavenwards. “I know, stupid really, but I have to ask. Are you and Rafe Ramirez secretly engaged?”

  “No!” Ana cried outraged and mortified.

  “Are you bed buddies?”

  “Excuse me?” She tried to yank her arm free, but the girl held on tight.

  “Don’t look at me. I don’t make this stuff up!” the girl insisted. “Now this one is my personal favorite. Are you a ninja spy?”

  Ana stilled, staring at the girl like she’d lost her damn mind. “If I was, I certainly wouldn’t be allowed to tell you, now would I?”

  The girl beamed. “Good answer!” she turned to the class watching with rapt fascination. “Everyone satisfied?” Feet shuffled. Several people had the decency to hang their heads and scurry out of the room. Others glowered at them both. This didn’t seem to bother the girl any. She continued to hug Ana’s arm and chatter on like they were the best of friends. “You’ll get used to them. They’re scared of new, shiny things. I’m personally thrilled to meet you. Up until you arrived, I was the newbie so this is very exciting.”

  Ana didn’t know whether to laugh or be insulted, so she asked, “Who are you?”

  The girl’s heavily darkened eyes widened. “Oh silly me. I’m Jack.”

  Ana’s eyebrows swept up and her eyes widened in disbelief. “Jack?”

  The girl shrugged. “It’s short for Jackie, which is short for Jacqueline. Every year it just keeps getting shorter. Soon it will be Jay, then just J. People are such lazy donkey puddings.”

  “I’m Ana,” she said, realizing with some surprise that she actually liked this girl. She was weird and loud and dramatic and she dressed like she was about to hit some underground rave, but those were all the reasons Ana liked her, too.

  Jack beamed. “Pleasure to meet you, Freak Two.” The arm was back, weaving through Ana’s like a boa. “What do you have next?”

  Ana had to dislodge herself to pick up her schedule. “Uh, Chemistry.”

  The girl winced, dark lips curling back to reveal badly crooked teeth. “Oh dude, harsh! Mr. Voronin is a total douche.”

  “Do you have him as well?” Ana asked, unable to suppress the hope in her voice.

  Jack clicked her tongue and shook her head. “Algebra. But!” She leaned closer to peer down at the schedule. “We’ve got the same lunch slot so that’ll be cool. You can chill with me and the Lost Boys.”

  Ana didn’t know who The Lost Boys were, but she was willing to sit with just about anyone as long as she didn’t have to sit alone. Nevertheless, she tried not to be disappointed that the only friend she’d made — and she used that term loosely — only had one class with her.

  “Hey, don’t sweat it. By now, half the school knows you’re not royalty, not a criminal, not shagging Rafe Ramirez — which totally bags you big points in my book — and you could possibly be a ninja spy, which’ll give you serious street cred, or more weird looks. Depending on where you go.” She finished with a shrug.

  “Well, thanks … I think,” Ana said, gathering her things and swinging her bag over her shoulder.
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  “No prob.” Jack fell into step with her as they left English class. “I was new for like five years. These people are like ice towards outside fish. They get all I’m-gonna-pee-on-stuff-just-so-you-don’t-touch-it. It’s total sucksville, but some of the peeps are cool. You’ll meet my homies at lunch. They’ll totally dig you.”

  Ana laughed. “Can’t wait.”

  “In the meantime.” Jack punched her lightly on the shoulder. “Keep your digits to yourself!”

  “So, no touching anything?”

  Jack shrugged. “Not unless you want to lose extremities. But the main thing you want to avoid is Ramirez.”

  Ana forgot to keep walking and turned to the girl, ignoring the sharp glances from the people behind them when they had to filter around. “Rafe? Why?”

  The girl shook her head, blue eyes sharp. “That dude is bad news in a big way. You go barking up that tree, it’ll be the one to piss on you.”

  As warnings went, Jack’s was the vaguest. Ana didn’t know what she was supposed to do with a cryptic message like that except let it roll around inside her skull while navigating her way through the maze of halls to the Science Wing, which, from what Jack explained, was a separate building altogether. Ana had to leave the school and walk about five minutes to the next building.

  “It’s a safety thing,” Jack told her. “In case someone blows the place up. This way, you save most of the student body. Better some than none, right? Casualty of science or something. Smart since they have kids like Fletcher coming to the school. That boy can’t even sneeze without blowing something up.”

  Ana didn’t know who Fletcher was, but she made a mental note to keep her distance.

  The Science Building was entirely white with big glass windows. It was a squat, single story structure with several rooms down a single hall. She thought about what Jack said about casualties of science and wondered if that really was the reason they separated all the science departments from the rest of the school. Even the Biology lab was there. What could possibly be dangerous about Biology? Nevertheless, she found her Chemistry class. It was the last door at the very back of the building. Having spent so much time talking to Jack, she was the last to arrive.