“Ms. French, I presume.” Mr. Voronin walked to her with a deep scowl on his face.
He was a tall, lanky man with a lion’s mane of gray hair that fell in curls to his shoulders. He had a long face to go with his long nose and almond shaped eyes. He was cleanly shaven except for a goatee around his thin lips. When he walked, his white lab coat fluttered around his long legs, revealing brown trousers. He kept his hands clasped at his back until he was directly in front of Ana.
“Yes sir,” she said, having to tilt her head back to peer into his face.
He made a humming sound. “You may grab a textbook from the back of the classroom. Then you will bring it to my desk and sign it out. When that is complete, I will assign you a desk and a lab partner. Do you understand what I am telling you?”
She had a sudden urge to tell him she wasn’t stupid. Of course she understood what he was telling her, but he didn’t seem like the sort who would take cheek lightly and the last thing she wanted was to get detention on her first day.
“Yes, sir.”
A bushy eyebrow lifted arrogantly. “Then why are you still standing here?”
Mortified that he was making the whole class watch her, Ana ducked her head and hurried to the back of the class where, along the back counter, was a stack of tattered textbooks. She snatched up one at random and weaved her way to the front again. Mr. Voronin watched her from his relaxed position behind his desk, expression flat and cold. He took the book when she set it down in front of him. Very deliberately, he flicked the cover open and pulled out the index card from inside. He tossed it across the desk towards her.
“Write your name, the date and your student number.”
Ana did as she was told and passed the card back. He took it and tossed it into one of the drawers of his desk.
He then rose to his feet. “You’re in station eight. Mr. Andrews will be your partner.”
Station eight was the third counter from the front, in the middle row and Mr. Andrews turned out to be a gorgeous boy with a headful of sandy brown hair, seaweed green eyes and a warm smile. He pulled her stool out when she approached their station.
“Thanks,” she said, returning his smile.
“No problem.” Mr. Voronin started lecturing from the front of the class. Her partner dropped his voice and leaned towards her. “Don’t let him get to you. He’s an asshat to everyone.”
Ana stifled a chuckle. “And here I thought I was special.”
He shook his head, nose wrinkled. “He likes to pretend he’s the big man on campus, but truthfully, no one likes him.” When Ana had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing, his smile broadened. “I’m Vinny.”
She accepted the hand he offered. “Ana.”
Releasing his hand, she turned front and opened her books. A pen she’d hastily shoved into the folds of her binder tumbled out and rolled beneath the desk behind her. She bit her lip, hoping no one had noticed, especially Mr. Voronin, but the teacher had his back to her, scribbling something unintelligible on the board. Gingerly, working hard not to make a sound, Ana slipped off her stool and bent down to retrieve her pen, but someone had beaten her to it.
Long, toned fingers gripped the blue ballpoint from the writing end and held it out to her. Ana followed the hand up to the arm, the shoulder and finally the tawny eyes that watched her through heavy fringes. Her breath caught and her heart went wild.
Chapter Nine
Ana
Rafe stared at her, an odd sort of deliberation in his beautiful eyes. He used his free hand to swipe back the hair from his face as he continued to hold her writing device out to her.
Ana slicked her lips. It wasn’t an attention seeking gesture, simply one to moisten the dryness he always seemed to cause, but it caught his eyes and they followed the path of her tongue the way a cat followed a wounded bird. His pupils dilated. Tension rippled in his jaw. His gaze traveled up to catch hers, hot and enticing, and like a vacuum in space, she was sucked into it, powerless to stop. It took a great deal of effort to remember why she was kneeling under the desk with him. It took a moment longer to reach for the pen he still held. Her fingers overlapped his and the touch was like raw fire skating and ravaging a path up the length of her arm. A gasp escaped before she could stifle it. Her skin tingled deliciously all the way down to her curling toes. God, it really shouldn’t feel that amazing just to look into his eyes.
“Ms. French!” Then, just like that, the spell was broken with the boom of Mr. Voronin’s voice.
Ana shot to her feet with the pen clutched to her pounding chest. She was fairly certain her face divulged the guilt worming through her.
Mr. Voronin sighed, taking several steps forward, hands at his back. “Ms. French, I understand that you’re a teenage girl and your hormones automatically target the hottest guy within groping distance, but I don’t teach that sort of chemistry here. So if you could please save your flirting for when my class is finished, I would be very much appreciative.”
Skin bubbling and melting off her with the hot rush of humiliation coursing through her, Ana quickly dropped into her stool, praying she wasn’t as red as she felt. Beside her, Vinny kindly kept his gaze turned on his book, but he was the only one. Every eye in the room was focused on her. She could feel each one like a laser burning through her flesh. Oh what she wouldn’t have given to just disintegrate on the spot.
It didn’t happen. Class continued at the slowest pace possible. Ana had never stared at a clock more in her life. When the bell finally sounded, Ana was the first out of her seat. She shoved her things into her bag and all but bolted out the door before anyone else.
Jack was waiting for her when she burst into the main building. Ana started to wonder how the other girl was able to get out of class early enough to get there before she did, but pushed it aside. She didn’t care. It was nice to see someone who hadn’t just witnessed her total humiliation.
But one look at her and Jack winced. “Oh dude, you totally got burned didn’t you?” She shook her head sympathetically. “I did warn you. Total douche.”
Anger laced through the mortification still running red-hot through her veins. “What’s his deal anyway?”
Jack shrugged. “Hates his job, I guess.”
Ana shook her head, blinking away the hot tears threatening to spill. “I have never met such a horrible person.”
A slender arm found its way around Ana’s shoulders. “Hey, chill, Mini Freak. It’s cool. Class is over. Come on. I want you to meet my boys.”
Jack led her to the cafeteria where most of the student population was already present. The place buzzed with commotion and activity. The smell of overcooked beans lingered in the air already peppered with sweat, perfume, deep fryer grease and roasted meat. Ana hadn’t realized how hungry she was until they got in line for food. The apple she’d grabbed earlier that morning had long since been forgotten. She wasn’t even sure she knew what happened to it. It might have fallen from her grasp when she’d taken that unwanted skating lesson in the middle of the hallway.
“Word of the wise,” Jack murmured into her ear. “Steer clear of the mystery meat. Anything that looks and smells that grody needs serious space.”
Ana squinted, not all together certain her friend was speaking English anymore. “Grody?”
Jack nodded, dragging a bowl of Jell-O onto her tray. “Yeah, like nasty. It’s short for grotesque.”
Ana didn’t comment. She was beginning to accept that her new friend wasn’t like everyone else. It was as yet undetermined if it was a good thing or bad thing. Nevertheless, she stayed away from the questionable slabs of meat cut into neat squares. It could have been overcooked meatloaf, but Jack was right, the smell was revolting.
Shuffling along down the line, Ana grabbed a tuna sandwich, a carton of chocolate milk, a banana and a bag of chips. Jack had already paid for her stuff by the time Ana reached her.
“Aces?” Jack said after Ana had paid and stood facing her.
Ana lo
oked down at her tray, wondering if she’d accidently picked up a deck of cards, or something. Nope, just food. She looked up at the girl beside her, frowning. “What?”
Jack rolled her eyes. “Are you good?”
Ana’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh…” She nodded slowly, chewing over the new lingo. “Yes I’m … aces,” she confirmed, liking the new word.
Jack shook her head, chuckling. “Let’s make tracks, Mini Freak. We’re in the corner there.” She motioned with a jerk of her head for Ana to follow.
They crossed the chaos of the room, carefully avoiding the bags, books and legs sprawled into the aisles. Heads turned as they passed and Ana pretended they were staring at Jack and not her, because surely she didn’t really have freak stamped on her forehead … did she? They passed a table compiled entirely of green and white uniforms. But it was the people in the uniforms that caught her attention.
They were beautiful. A single table composed of flawless skin, perfect hair, perfect smiles and perfect laughs. It was like passing an angel convention.
Ana almost stopped, and Jack must have realized she was about to lose her, because she turned her head and hissed, “Don’t make eye contact!”
Ana jolted and hurried her pace, wondering if maybe they really were angels and by looking at them directly, she could go blind or turn to ashes.
She caught up to Jack. “Why?”
Jack snorted. “Does it look like their egos need anymore inflating? The janitors have enough to clean up around here without their fat heads exploding all over the place.”
Ana could only scowl at the back of the other girl’s head as she stepped over a stack of books left carelessly in her path. They made it to the far table, not quite near the back, but still out of the way. There were five boys already sitting there, each one dressed in smooth, shiny leather, spiky jewelry and chains. Their hair ranged in color. One had blue hair gelled to stick up straight. Another had canary yellow hair that was shaved close to his skull. The other three were a lower key black and brown. None glanced up when Jack slammed her tray down and swung her legs over the bench. They poked at their meals, or kept their faces tucked in a book, or in one case, fiddled on his phone.
This didn’t faze Jack in the least.
“Hey Lost Boys!”
There were a few grunts, a nod or two in acknowledgement, but they remained somber otherwise.
“I brought us a Wendy!” Jack motioned for Ana to join them. She patted the spot beside her. “This is Mini Freak.”
Ana really hoped that nickname wouldn’t stick. She still had another year of high school and she really didn’t want to spend it answering to Mini Freak. But she lowered her tray, slipped onto the bench and faced the subdued group.
“It’s Ana,” she said quietly.
At the sound of her voice, four pairs of wide eyes rose and fixed on her face. Maybe they thought Jack had been kidding, or maybe they were expecting someone else, but the awe on their faces made Ana want to fidget, to check her face, to say something. Instead, she offered them a small smile, hoping it would assure them she wouldn’t lunge across the table and eat their faces.
“New Girl, this is Derek, Josh, Pike, Skid and over there.” Jack jerked her chin towards the only boy who hadn’t looked up, hadn’t even moved, but remained engrossed on the keyboard of his phone. “That’s Draven.”
In what may have been a greeting, Draven raised a hand and swept it back through his hair. Thick, black fringes fluttered back into his heavily lashed eyes. The silver hoop in his ear glinted where it just peeked through the hair falling around his face to curl over the collar of his black t-shirt. A spiked bracelet glinted around each of his wrists and a fat skull leered at her from the middle finger of his left hand. There was nail polish on his fingers, as black as the kohl around his downcast eyes. Not once did he look away from his phone.
“Nice to meet you,” Ana murmured, turning back to the four across from her.
For several minutes, they just continued to stare, making Ana shift in her seat and steal a glance at Jack.
“Ugh!” Draven tossed his phone down with a loud clutter across the table. The thing spun, a black blur against white. He raised both hands and forked them through his long hair, pushing them off his prominent brow, exposing his square face. His lips were drawn back from straight, white teeth.
“Lost?” the one Jack introduced as Josh asked timidly, poking his mystery meat with a fork.
Draven grunted, dropping his hands and letting his hair fall around his face once more. He snatched up the phone again and went back to it, thumbs a blur over the keys.
“Draven is a champion Pac-Man player,” Jack told Ana, nibbling on a chicken finger.
Ana wasn’t sure what she’d expected him to be so fascinated over, but that wasn’t it. He seemed so … determined. She’d never seen anyone look so focused over a game of Pac-Man.
“He plays tournaments,” the blue-haired boy — Josh — said quietly.
“That’s really cool,” Ana said, meaning it. She’d never met anyone that actually went to game tournaments. “At my old school, our wrestling team went provincial,” she said, dorky school pride in her voice.
The smile on her face melted away when all five — six if you included Jack’s — eyes turned in her direction. The look in them wasn’t so mysterious anymore. They were thinking she was a moron.
“Pac-Man isn’t a school wrestling team,” Draven said slowly, mesmerizing her with the low, throaty drawl. His eyes were blue, sharp like glacial points, made even more intense by the heavy smudges of eyeliner. Something silver on his bottom lip caught her eye and she was surprised to see the little hoop hugging the right corner of his pinched lip. “Pac-Man is an art form.”
Oookay… Ana picked up her sandwich and ignored the crazy Pac-Man guy for the remainder of lunch period.
She liked Josh, she realized by the end of lunch period. He wasn’t as quiet as the others, although Jack assured her Skid was a chatterbox once she got to know him. Derek just scowled at his food for most of the period, while Pike kept darting her glances and then looking away when she’d catch him. Draven, after his disgust at her ignorance, went back to pretending she wasn’t there. But Josh actually talked to her, asked her questions, and made little comments. It was mainly directed at his tray, but it was better than nothing.
“They’re really shy,” Jack said as they left the cafeteria. “It took them a month to talk to me.”
“They were fine,” Ana said, hugging her books closer to her chest. “It was better than sitting alone.” She looked down at her feet. “Speaking of … thanks for you know … everything.”
Jack shouldered her lightly. “We freaks need to stick together.”
Ana chuckled. “Not sure I like being called a freak.”
Jack shrugged. “I’d rather be a freak than a sheep.”
Ana wasn’t sure she wanted to be either, but said nothing, couldn’t say anything when she was shoved backwards by a boy shouldering his way through the crowd in the opposite direction. The books clutched in her arms went scattering. She slammed into someone who grabbed her, steadied her, but her focus was on her papers being crumpled and crunched beneath careless feet.
“Oh no!” she cried, swooping down to salvage what little she could. She was vaguely aware of Jack doing the same, snatching up the ones that had been swept away. Someone else was there too, telling people to watch it and go around. Then they were down beside her, piling textbooks and binders. “Thank you!” she said with breathless gratitude.
“Welcome.”
That voice! Ana’s head came up fast, her eyes rounded. Rafe sat hunched a few feet away, head down, face curtained by hair as he concentrated on gathering her things. She waited for him to look up, to smirk, and to say something witty and perverted. Instead, when he did glance up, he didn’t smile. He didn’t even really look at her, but at some imaginary spot just above her head like the very sight of her was somehow too much to stand.
He passed her the books he’d collected, careful not to let any part of him touch her the way it had in Chemistry, rose to his feet and walked away without a single glance back.
Ana stared after him, her heart plummeting to somewhere between her ankles.
Chapter Ten
Ana
Her first day of school ended in a blur of faces. Ana didn’t see Jack again, nor Rafe. She sat alone on the rattling bus, getting tossed carelessly from side to side as it rumbled down her road. At the stop sign, the bus stopped and let her out. The gruff, overweight driver grunted something that wasn’t exactly a farewell. It was more like heartburn meets indigestion when he leaned over his protruding belly to pull the handlebar, yanking the door closed in her face. Ana shuffled the twenty steps home, barely lifting her feet. She hated that something so small, so ridiculous could ruin her entire day when not even Mr. Voronin had succeeded.
It’s because he thinks I’m crazy, she thought miserably, sniffling back tears. There was no other explanation. But what if there was? There was one other explanation Ana hated to even think about. It was worse than him thinking she was crazy and the mere thought made her stomach knot — he had a girlfriend. Granted, he probably had a lot of those, but one that he actually cared enough about to stop flirting with all other girls.
Ana had wanted to ask Jack. She had wanted to ask a lot of people, anyone that passed by her, but pure willpower and pride kept a tight clamp on her tongue. The last thing she needed was for the rest of the school to think she was obsessed with the guy, which she wasn’t. She was just curious … and crushed, devastated and heartbroken.
“Ana!” Her mom stood on the porch, back in her snappy suits and pointy shoes. Ana had almost forgotten what her mother looked like when she dressed to impress.
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