by Ann Aguirre
Too late now.
Over the next week, I wrote back and forth with Vi, less often to Ryu. I had the impression that he was pretty popular in Japan. It would’ve made me sad if I thought he was seriously hung up on me, but his quick notes were just about back-to-school stuff. In the mornings, I took to running, mostly because it was exercise I could do with the clothes and shoes I already owned. If my parents thought it was weird that I was up at seven every day and racing through the city streets, neither my mom nor dad said a word. My new interest in fitness came partly from a desire to keep the body I’d sold my soul for—I hoped not literally—and the rest had to do with burning nervous energy.
The night before school started, I talked to Vi on Skype. “So how’s Boston?” she asked, faking a bad townie accent.
“It didn’t change since I left it, so that’s good. How are things with you and Seth?”
Vi went for fifteen minutes about how awesome he was, and the fact that they were planning to hook up next weekend. I probably shouldn’t have asked, if I didn’t want the long, detailed answer. Partway through, I tuned out.
When I checked back in, she was saying, “Anyway, his mom says he can’t drive to meet me every weekend, and they had a big fight, but eventually they compromised, so we’re going every other, and he’s paying for part of the car insurance.”
“Sounds like a fair deal.”
She nodded. “Plus it gives us the chance to make sure we don’t fall behind in school. When I’m not seeing him, I’ll catch up on projects and extra credit.”
Only people from the nerd phylum would say “extra credit” without a sneer or a mocking laugh, but I’d always liked learning what teachers came up with to challenge us. Sometimes it was silly, not hard at all, but it showed you were willing to try. Since I’d had no social life, I was always about a hundred bonus points into A+ territory.
“So,” Vi concluded, “I just wanted to tell you to have a great first day.”
“You too.”
She paused. “Were you listening at all? We don’t start until next week.”
Oops. It looked like I wasn’t a great listener, and I’d missed some stuff that wasn’t Seth-relevant, but I’d get better with practice. Except for the SSP, I had more experience hiding from people than talking to them.
“Lucky.”
“I’m kind of bored,” she confessed.
“Me too.”
The waiting was getting to me as well. I kept checking my phone to see if Kian had texted, but nothing so far. It would be a relief to get this mission underway.
Soon after, Vi disconnected and I got ready for bed. One benefit of working out, however, was that I suffered from insomnia less. Despite myriad fears about tomorrow, I fell straight into a dreamless sleep. My alarm blared too early, but I rolled out of bed and went through the regimen I had practiced the week before.
In the end, I decided to go with classic schoolgirl. I wouldn’t be wearing thigh-high stockings or tying up my shirt the minute the teachers looked the other way. Instead I wore my uniform nearly as intended: blue knee socks, innocent Mary Janes, two buttons open on the blouse, and skirt rolled up once at the waistband to make it a bit shorter than strictly permissible. I’d seen girls daring much more, however. I did my hair up in a twist, a sexy, tousled one with curls escaping. This look that seemed effortless took me almost half an hour, more with makeup time. But in the end, it was worth it.
At last, I looked like one of the beautiful people, somebody you’d see cruising the halls with the Teflon crew. I had fruit and yogurt for breakfast, brushed my teeth, and waved at my parents, who were barely stirring. They were both kind of night owls, not in the party sense but that they’d stay up late watching documentaries or reading articles in scientific journals while sipping endless cups of hot tea.
“You want oatmeal?” Mom asked.
“No, I’m fine. I ate already. Bye!”
It was time to shift from planning and preparation to payback and penance. By the time I was done at Blackbriar, there would be blood in the water.
THE SHARKS ARE CIRCLING, CIRCLING
When I entered DeWitt Hall, where all language arts and literature classes were held, people stared as I walked by. In the old days, that would’ve meant the Teflon crew had stuck something on my back or circulated a new rumor. This time it signified a different kind of attention, but it was no easier to bear—for different reasons. Kian probably knew how this felt, and maybe he’d wanted to caution me about this.
One guy whispered, “Who is that?”
“The new and improved Edie Kramer.”
“Holy shit.”
“I know, right? How do you go from barks like a dog to that in a summer?”
A girl whose name I didn’t know pushed into the conversation with a scornful “I heard she had plastic surgery. Lipo, nose job, nips, tucks, lifts, and—”
“You have no idea how much I don’t care,” the guy said. “Like you were born with that nose, Tara.”
I felt his eyes on me as I turned the corner and stepped into my first class. My knees felt shaky, but soon the talk would die down. Then I could make inroads toward my goal. Jennifer Bishop might offer an opening since she’d professed what seemed like genuine regret over what the Teflon crew did to me.
I chose a seat in the middle of the room. The front marked you as a dork and the back said you planned to sleep or text. Since I was trying to reinvent myself, I avoided both classifications. These people know nothing about you. You’re a mystery. At least, I was hoping there would be a certain mystique surrounding me, and I didn’t intend to give anything away. The class filled up and the instructor came in just before the bell. I didn’t recognize him, so that meant he was new. I wondered who had retired or taken another job, freeing up this slot.
The girls were suddenly very attentive because this teacher couldn’t have been more than twenty-five, and he was hot in a professorial sort of way. By which I meant, he had on a corduroy blazer with suede patches on the sleeves, and he was pulling it off, mostly because he’d paired it with boots, faded jeans, and a striped dress shirt. He had a chiseled jaw, great cheekbones, and black hair that looked like he’d rumpled it in a fit of literary inspiration. I privately suspected it had taken substantial time, plus expensive hair product for him to achieve that level of “I don’t care about my hair.” All around me, girls gave a soft, collective sigh, and his hazel eyes crinkled in amusement.
He wrote on the chalkboard, “Mr. Love.”
And a guy said, “Seriously? That’s your actual name.”
“The irony doesn’t escape me, and the moniker’s offered its share of challenges over the years.”
English accent. The female population at Blackbriar had no hope of escaping a giant crush this semester. Coupled with his looks and his slightly bashful air, he was girl Kryptonite. While I registered his definite appeal, he wasn’t turning me dreamy-eyed alongside everyone else. That probably meant I was broken.
He drew a line through the name on the board and added, “You can call me Colin. As you might’ve surmised, I’m from London, and I’m looking forward to sharing my fondness for great literature with you. Now I’d like you to go around the room and state your name, plus one interesting fact about you. We’ll start on the right.”
I tuned out the introductions, though I did roll my eyes when one girl said her name was Nicole and that she could tie a cherry stem in a knot with her tongue. The guy next to her said, “Call me,” but Mr. Love moved the conversation along.
Pretty soon it was my turn. “My name is Edie Kramer, and…” I’m afraid I made a deal with the devil. “I can recite pi to a hundred places.”
“Impressive. And what about you, sir?” I appreciated that he shifted focus to the boy in front of me. Though I would have to get used to it if I truly meant to infiltrate the Teflon crew, I hated being watched.
Eventually I knew all kinds of trivia about the rest of my class and then Colin started the
lesson in earnest. He was a good teacher, explaining his expectations up front, how he would evaluate our performance, how much reading and writing we’d be doing, and then his test policies. By far it wasn’t the worst first session I’d had.
The rest, until lunch, were a mixed bag. I had a few of the same teachers from last year, but they were all polite enough to pretend I hadn’t changed into a new person. By the time break rolled around, my shoulders hurt from the tension. It took all my courage to go into the cafeteria instead of hiding in the bathroom. The place smelled delicious, mostly because we had chefs instead of lunch ladies. There was a wide variety of choices, too, but my stomach roiled too much for me to grab anything but salad and yogurt. If I kept up this I’m-freaking-out diet, I’d end up even skinnier, not one of my goals.
When I stepped out of the line, I almost bumped into Jennifer. Today, she wore her hair long and straight, glowing with a blue-black sheen. Between that and her flawless skin, she was much prettier than either Brittany or Allison. If popularity was driven by looks alone, Jennifer would rule the school. Since she seemed to have a heart, that would be a good thing.
“I just want to say that I appreciate your apology … and I accept. So thanks.”
As I moved to step past her, she said, “I don’t know if I could be that forgiving.”
I’m not. It’s a long con.
But I couldn’t seem to write off what happened too fast. “Yeah, well. You weren’t the one who made all the plans. I mean, you could’ve stopped it, but I guess … it’s hard to speak up when all of your friends are involved.” That sounded like the right balance of repressed anger and blame.
She nodded. “That doesn’t make it okay. I should’ve gone to the headmaster or a teacher or something. I wish I had.”
Me too.
“Well, I’m gonna go. See you.”
The words seemed to slip out of her. “If you want, we could eat together.”
“Me, with your crowd? I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Plus, I wasn’t sure I could swallow a single bite at the same table with Cameron Dean. I needed time to get used to the new dynamic and to bolster my resolve.
“It doesn’t have to be with them. There are plenty of tables.”
“Are you sure they won’t see you as selling out to the enemy?” I asked.
She shrugged. “It’s the least I can do to make this up to you. They can get by without me. I just … I don’t want you to eat alone.”
I was sure I could join any table at this point and not be run off with torches and pitchforks, but Jennifer seemed to have some guilt to work out. Never let it be said that I refused to let a girl cleanse her conscience. If it made her feel better to see me as a pity project, I could work with that.
“Okay, let’s sit by the window.” Where everyone could see that Jennifer had taken my side over the Teflon crew.
This should be interesting.
I had only eaten a few bites when a shadow fell across our table. An upward glance identified Allison Vega: brown hair, streaked with copper; bronze skin; green eyes; curvy. Word was, her family had ties to the cartel. That was probably just WASP gossip, though. Rich white people tended to think that there was only one way a Colombian family could make money.
“Are you lost, Jen?” Allison demanded.
She shook her head. “I’m fine, thanks.”
The cafeteria denizens were riveted by this discussion, so I went on the offensive. Confrontation didn’t come easy to me, but I had been studying their techniques for the last three years. Call me a method actor.
“Hey, Allie-cat. You’re looking healthy. Did you stop bingeing and purging over the summer?” I said it loud enough that more than a few people overheard it.
“Screw you,” she said, smiling.
“It’d be great if you could go. I’m talking to Jen. Thanks.” My tone was polite, framed with the saccharine smile that I’d seen Allison and Brittany unleash.
Allison stood for a few seconds, apparently unable to think of a response, then she whirled and went back to the Teflon circle. The people at neighboring tables snickered; they likely enjoyed seeing Allison dispatched with her own weapons. There was definitely satisfaction in it.
“Maybe I didn’t need to worry about you after all,” Jen said. “You’ve changed.”
I smiled faintly. “I’m aware.”
After that, my yogurt and salad went down better, since I’d passed the first hurdle. People knew I wasn’t the same perpetual victim I’d been last year, and things should get easier from here. I didn’t have a clear strategy for infiltration, but making friends with Jen was a good start. From watching other people try and fail, I understood that I couldn’t seem to care much about impressing them. They openly mocked those who tried too hard, which was why Davina wasn’t a full-fledged member after three years of orbiting their space.
The rest of the day was uneventful. I sat through my classes, listened, and took notes, while gossip washed around me. I could expect more of the same for a day or two, but eventually, they’d get bored with speculating just how much work I had done. I pretended I didn’t hear the whispers; it was simple from years of practice, and now they were saying nice things.
Assholes.
After school, I sighed at the guy who stopped at my locker and tried to ask me something about Lit class. Since Colin hadn’t assigned anything yet, it was a stupid plan for getting to know me better. I stared at him until he stuttered and backed away. For the first time, I glimpsed why Allison and Brittany acted the way they did. I couldn’t deny the faint rush of power that sprang from a single glance.
But I don’t want to be like them for real.
So I managed a smile. “I have to go. Maybe we’ll talk later.”
“Sure,” he said, seeming relieved.
Then I slipped past him, joining the throng heading for the exit. My backpack was full of textbooks since my dedication to schoolwork hadn’t changed. Outside, the weather was sunny, just a hint of clouds, but the humidity made my hair curl. I threaded through the knot of students heading for their cars and passed the gate to where all of the bodyguards and black vehicles were waiting.
Then I drew up short. Kian stood across the street, leaning up against an office building. When he caught sight of me, he straightened, checked the traffic, and jogged across the street. It had only been a couple of weeks, but it felt like forever since I’d seen him. Today, he was dressed in black, but it worked on him and didn’t come across as emo.
He wore a faint smile when he reached my side. To my astonishment, he leaned down to brush my lips with his in the kind of casual kiss that boyfriends gave long-term girlfriends. Since that didn’t apply to us at all, I froze until I heard some girls behind us talking about how totally hot he was, loud enough that I was supposed to notice.
“What’re you doing here?” I whispered.
“I thought it would be nice if I met you on your first day back.” The answer radiated goodwill and innocence, but … what about the rules that prevented us from socializing? Whatever had happened, his eyes begged me to play along.
“It’s an awesome surprise.” I stretched up on tiptoes to hug him murmuring, “What the hell?”
“Later,” he breathed into my ear.
Okay, that was supremely distracting. Pressed up against him, it dawned on me that the reason that Colin Love and other crazy-hot guys didn’t register on my hormonal radar was because I’d already imprinted on Kian. That could be … unfortunate.
“Is this your boyfriend, Edie?” Allison Vega stood behind me, wearing a deceptively friendly smile, but after our exchange at lunch, I knew to expect trouble.
“Yes,” Kian said, before I could answer. “I was lucky to meet her this summer.”
“Oh?” Allison imbued the single syllable with an insulting amount of skepticism.
He aimed a warm look in my direction. “Normally I wouldn’t date a high school girl, but Edie’s different.”
That’s
putting it mildly.
“So you’re … in college?” she guessed.
Kian nodded. “Look, we’re in a hurry. But good luck with…” He trailed off as his gaze slid over her and then shrugged. “… everything.”
I stifled a laugh. When he took my hand, I worked not to react, as if we did this every day, when in fact, we’d only done it when he was porting us somewhere. I let him lead me toward the station, but he surprised me by stopping at a red Mustang parked behind all the black town cars and SUVs, a splash of blood against raven wings.
“If I’m going to impress them, I have to go all the way,” he said.
He opened the door for me, and I saw Allison and Brittany watching from the gates. The former looked furious and the latter confused. With a mental shrug, I climbed in. He reached across my lap, opened the glove box, and pulled out a small tin. Opening it, he dipped his fingers in the clear gel and smeared it around the frame of his window. Kian tilted his head, indicating I should do mine as well. While I complied, puzzled, he did the front and back windscreens. Then he started the car and smoothly made a U-turn around the cul-de-sac and headed back toward the city.
“We can talk freely now. The effects will last twenty minutes or so.”
“What the crap is going on?”
“Circumstances have changed. I’ve been assigned to you exclusively.”
“And you’re not supposed to tell me that,” I guessed. Which was why we’d soundproofed the car with silicon goo. God, my life is so weird. “Let me guess, you’re supposed to charm me for some reason.”
“I wish you weren’t mixed up in this, Edie, but since the alternative is you being dead, I can’t wish for that, either.”
“Wishes are part of the problem, I’d say. Is this car one of yours?”
He sighed. “Why are you so clever?”
