“Okay, thanks,” I tell him. “They texted me again last night, so I was going to ask you if you could.”
He pauses. “Really?”
I nod.
“Okay, I’ll look at those texts at lunch, too.” Then he spins on his heels and basically skips down the hallway.
It takes a second for his last words to register, and then I feel sick. He wants to look at those messages? The ones that implied I killed my parents? What if he wants to know the entire story?
“You okay?” Jax asks.
The sound of his voice startles me, and when I glance at him, worry is written all over his face.
“I’m fine,” I lie. “I’m just not a fan of having to walk into class late.”
He rakes his fingers through his hair. “Me neither, but at least we get to do it together, right?” He offers me a small smile that alleviates a drop of my worry.
But then a whole new set of worries rises. What if, when the guys find out what I may have done in my past, they ditch me? Sure, I barely know them, and I’m more used to not having friends than having them, but I kind of like this—having someone to drive to school with, eat breakfast with, walk into class late with, share smiles with, and tease me in a playful way. I don’t want to want it, because letting yourself want something means you’re opening yourself up to the risk of losing it.
Concern creases Jax’s pretty features again. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I do my best to make myself chill the hell out so I don’t come off as a total nutjob. “Yeah, sorry,” I tell him. “I really don’t like drawing attention to myself and being the new girl who walks late into class is going to do that.”
He stares at me with hesitation written all over his face, and I feel like he wants to say something but is holding back. Then he sighs. “We should get to class.”
I nod in agreement, crossing my fingers that we can slip in undetected. But nope, we don’t even come close to doing so. In fact, we don’t even manage to make it down the hallway without getting spotted.
As we round the corner, a girl around my age is leaning against a locker. She has long, blonde hair and is staring off into space with her arms crossed and aggressively chewing her gum.
“Shit,” Jax curses, skidding to a halt and stiffening at the sight of her.
I glance from him to her then back to him. His expression says it all.
“Let me guess, old girlfriend?”
“Yeah …” He massages the back of his neck, his gaze flitting between her and me. “Do you mind if we take the long way? I’d rather not deal with her right now.”
I shrug. “Sure. We’re already late anyway.”
He smiles with gratitude then spins around, but as he does, the girl spots us. She immediately stops chewing her gum and straightens.
“Um … We’ve been spotted,” I hiss under my breath.
I expect Jax to sigh and twist back around, but he snags ahold of my hand and tows me with him as he basically sprints away from her.
As we round back around the corner, I sneak a peek back at the girl. She’s watching us walk away with a hurt expression on her face, and I kind of feel sorry for her. Although, I don’t know the story of how they broke up, so perhaps I shouldn’t.
Jax continues to hold my hand as he steers me down a hallway that wraps around in the other direction. It’s kind of strange that he’s holding my hand. I’ve spent years not being touched by anyone … well, in a welcoming nice way. But yesterday, Hunter grabbed my hand and now Jax is holding my hand. Honestly, I don’t even think he realizes it.
“Was it a bad breakup?” I finally ask when about a minute of silence trickles by.
“What …?” He blinks at me. “Oh … yeah …” He lets out a quiet exhale. “Honestly, at this point, I should be over it. It’s been about two years. And I am over it. I just …” He huffs out a frustrated breath as he rakes his fingers through his hair with his free hand. “It was just a really bad breakup and seeing her reminds me of everything that happened.” He lowers his hand to his side and meets my gaze.
“You don’t need to explain it to me. I get that breakups can be hard. Or, well, I don’t get it personally since I’ve never dated anyone before, but I know enough to know that they have to be hard.” Jesus, can I ramble anymore? Seriously, what is wrong with me this morning?
His lips part in shock. “You’ve never dated anyone before? Ever?”
Why, oh why, do I have to open my mouth sometimes? Le sigh.
I shake my head. “Nope.”
His gaze skims across his face. “How not?”
Huh? “How not what?”
“How can you have never dated anyone?”
I shrug, feeling a bit squirrely. This conversation is getting way too personal for me. “I don’t know. I guess maybe because I’ve just always been sort of a social outcast.” You know, because my evil villain of a cousin tells everyone that I’m a murderer.
“I just …” His confusion doubles. “I just don’t get it. I mean, you’re easy to talk to, amusing, and beautiful; how can you have never dated anyone?”
Okay, now I’m going into full-on squirm mode. I don’t do well with compliments and, to be honest, I almost just want to take off, because I feel like I’m about to shed this layer of skin and all my secrets will be totally exposed.
“I’m sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable,” he says.
“You’re fine,” I assure him. “I just don’t do well with compliments and stuff.”
“I get that,” he tells me understandingly then squeezes my hand. “I’ll try to be a better friend and stop complimenting you.” The corners of his lips twitch as he attempts to lighten the mood.
I can’t help smiling just a bit.
Of course, that smile falters as he pulls me to a stop in front of a closed classroom door.
“Let me guess … This is our class?” I ask with a heavy sigh.
He gives my hand another squeeze before letting go. “Yep. If you want to hide behind me, you can.”
“I think that might make it worse.” Sucking in an inhale, I square my shoulders. “No, I got this.”
And for a moment, I do. That is, until we walk into the classroom and everyone turns to look at us, including Dixie May. When she sees me, her eyes narrow and a smirk twists at her lips.
“You’re so going down,” she mouths. “Payback is a bitch.”
I’m not sure what she’s planning, but I’ll admit, as much as I don’t want to be afraid of her, I also don’t want to lose my new friends.
What if she does something to ruin that? Can I handle it?
6
Raven
Despite Dixie May’s threat, walking into the classroom isn’t too awful. The teacher doesn’t make a big deal about there being a new student, and I get to sit in the desk beside Jax’s at the back of the classroom. But I’m twitchy during class, and not just because of Dixie May. No, everyone keeps staring at me. And when I say staring, I mean full-on gawking.
During a brief break where the teacher has us working on an assignment—a poem of all things—I lean over and whisper to Jax, “Do you guys really not get that many new people here or something?”
He’s scribbling something down but pauses and glances up at me. He seems a little out of it, like he’s just coming out of a daze or something.
“What …?” He trails off, scanning the room. A frown touches his lips as he glances back at me. “Yeah, so I didn’t want to freak you out in the hallway, but I kind of figured this would happen. Not just because you’re the new girl, and you … well, all those things I said about you that I promised I wouldn’t say anymore.” A slight smile touches his lips, but then it fades as he heaves a sigh. “I’m guessing part of the staring probably has to do with the fact that you walked into class with me.”
My brow curves upward. “Why?”
He shrugs, tapping his pencil against the desk, his leg bouncing up and down restlessly, causing the chain dangling from his belt
loop to jingle. “People aren’t really used to seeing me, Hunter, or Zay hang out with anyone outside our circle. At least, not while we’re in school. So, I have a feeling you’re gonna have people interested in you because of that. Then add in the fact that you’re the new girl who’s … Well, you know what I think of you … But yeah …” He clears his throat, his knee bouncing even more.
I’m uncertain how I feel about what he just told me, but if he’s right, then I guess I’ll have to figure out a way to get used to it. Or just get more stoned in the morning.
“You’re nervous?” I state, not wanting to talk about me anymore.
He glances at me in puzzlement. “Huh?”
I give a pressing glance at his bouncing knee. “You’re nervous.”
His leg stops moving. “It’s not that I’m nervous. I’m just not a fan of people watching me, either. I like to try to blend in with the shadows.” He gives a swift glance around the classroom and, unlike when I look around, everyone hurries to avoid his gaze.
“Well, at least they stop looking at you when you make eye contact with them.” I grimace. “When I tried to do that, they either smirk or just openly gawk.”
His lips kick up into a half-smile. “That’s because they’re afraid of me.”
“Right.” I make mocking spooky fingers, and he laughs. “To be honest, I don’t really find you guys that scary.”
His smile is all sorts of amusement. “That’s because we like you. If we didn’t, we’d make sure you feared us.”
I rest my elbow on the desk and slant closer to him. “By doing what exactly?”
He chuckles. “I’m not sure, since I have a feeling it’d take a lot to scare you.”
I point the end of the pencil at him. “You’re right, Jax … Hey, I don’t even know you’re last name, dude.” Although Katy had mentioned it yesterday, it was so brief that I don’t remember it.
He winks at me. “That’s because it’s a secret.”
I roll my eyes then lean over and look at the top of his paper where he’s written his name. “Jaxon Capperellie …” My smile falters a little when I spot the word raven written in the middle of the inked words staining the page.
He hurriedly moves the paper away from me so I can no longer see it, and for a moment, I think I’ve made him upset, like maybe he’s writing the poem about me. But that just sort of makes me feel vain.
Seriously, Raven, you think he’s writing a poem about you? Don’t be an idiot.
“I never let anyone read my poems,” he explains with a smile. “And no one calls me Jaxon.”
I arch a brow at him. “Even the teacher doesn’t get to read your poem? Because this is an assignment, dude. How are you going to get credit?”
He rolls his eyes but continues to smile. “I don’t let anyone read them but the teacher, smartass.”
I can’t help but laugh. My laughter fades, though, when the teacher calls us out for talking. Luckily, he approaches our desks and quietly scolds us instead of calling us out in front of everyone.
“Jaxon, while I appreciate you befriending Ravenlee, I would appreciate it if you worked on the assignment during class and set a good example for her,” he says to Jax.
I smash my lips together, trying not to smile. But it’s kind of funny that he thinks I need a good example, like I haven’t learned yet that I’m not supposed to talk in class.
“Sorry, Mr. Johnson,” Jax apologizes.
“It’s fine. Just make sure to get this poem done.”
Mr. Johnson turns to me. “Do you need any help with the assignment?”
I shake my head. “No, I’m okay.”
“Okay then, let’s get to work.” He walks down the aisle, returning to the desk.
“Sorry, Jaxon, for getting you in trouble,” I whisper under my breath while flashing him a smile. “You really should be a better example, though.”
He narrows his eyes at me, but it’s a playful move. “Jaxon, huh? So that’s how it’s gonna be? Okay then, Ravenlee, two can play this game.”
I roll my eyes, and he smirks at me. Normally, I’d worry if someone was smirking at me like that, but I don’t know … As scary as people think Jax is, I just don’t see it. Like, at all. And that feeling only magnifies as we return to our poems and I watch him write from out of the corner of my eye.
He’s extremely intense when he writes, all hunched over, his gaze fixed on the paper that his hand swiftly moves across, staining the pages with ink. Part of me wants to know what he’s writing about, but the other part kind of just enjoys watching him. But le sigh, unfortunately, I need to work on my own assignment.
Tearing my gaze off Jax, I stare down at my own paper. And stare. And stare. And stare.
I stare so hard my eyes start to hurt. Gah, I’m going to fail the assignment.
Finally, I set down the pencil and reach up to rub my eyes. The instant I do, someone walks by my desk and drops a piece of paper onto it. At first, I think it was an accident, so I pick it up and open my mouth to call out to the person who dropped it. But the person—a blond-haired guy who’s wearing a letterman jacket—is already sitting down in his desk, right beside Dixie May, who’s smirking at me with the end of her pencil touching her lips.
Gritting my teeth, I unfold the paper.
Murderer.
You’ll get what you deserve one day.
It’s not in Dixie May’s handwriting, which means she told someone about my past.
I crumble the paper up, balling it so tightly in my hand that my fingernails pierce my palms.
“You okay?” Jax’s voice rises over the rage throbbing inside my head.
I blink at him and find him staring at me with concern overflowing his eyes.
Did he see the paper? Does he know now what I could be?
“I’m fine,” I lie, releasing the paper from my death grip.
His gaze zeros in on the balled-up paper then skates back to me. “Are you sure?”
I nod, stuffing the paper into my jacket pocket. “I’m just stressing about this assignment. I can’t write for shit.”
I don’t think he totally believes me but doesn’t press. “Try to write about how you feel. That’s always a good start.”
I force a smile. “Okay.”
He frowns, the worry in his eyes remaining.
Worried he might decide to press me more, I focus my attention on the paper and force the pencil to move across the page so I can at least look like I’m doing something. I try to do what Jaxon suggested and write about my emotions, but all I feel is rage, and pain, and shame.
Self-loathing.
Brokenness.
Fear.
I hate the latter, but I can’t get it out of me. I don’t want to lose my new friends. I hate admitting that, but I don’t.
I don’t want to be alone anymore.
And I know I’m not anything special. I know there are a ton of people out there in the world who feel like me. What I don’t get is why people like Dixie May want to make these people miserable.
My hand moves across the paper …
There once was a girl made of starlight and pearls.
She shone bright in the smog-covered world.
But that light was too bright for some to bear.
So, every day, they’d throw their flames of grim and hate,
And burn and mark the girl who shone so brightly.
Then they’d stand back and watch her burn.
By the time girl went home, she was covered in burns.
And when she looked in the mirror, it was all she saw …
The dimness of her light, the burns, the pain,
And it made her own eyes burn.
So she scrubbed at the marks.
She scrubbed until her fingers bled and ached.
Until they burned.
Until everything burned.
And the smudges and marks, they started to fade.
And some of her shine faded along with it.
Or
maybe her eyes were just too burnt to see it anymore.
7
Raven
Despite Dixie May threatening me and that dude dropping a note on my desk, first period ends up not being a total bust. I got to know Jax a little bit, and I managed to complete an assignment that was complicated for me.
By the time the bell rings, I don’t feel too awful as I gather my books and stuff them into my bag, including that stupid note. Jax gathers his stuff, too. Then, instead of leaving, he waits for me.
“Well?” he asks once I’ve gotten my stuff collected.
“Well what?” I ask.
“I saw you writing,” he says. “The emotion thing work for you?”
“Actually, it did,” I tell him as we make our way toward the door. “Thanks for the tip, oh epic writer.” I do a little bow.
He chuckles. “I’m not an epic writer. I just like to write.” We pause for a group of girls walking out of the classroom, and then we exit, too. “It’s therapeutic for me.” He tucks the pen he’s holding behind his ear, and I find myself pressing back a smile.
Not a writer, huh? ’Cause he sure does look the part.
The hallway is fairly crowded, but that’s normal for high schools between classes. What isn’t normal is how much staring is being aimed in our direction. Sure, I’ve gotten stared at before, mostly because Dixie May spread the awesome story of my past. But I’ve never gotten gawked at this much, and the staring is more in confusion instead of mocking. It kind of doesn’t make sense, since that note someone dropped on my desk clearly means she’s told people.
“So, is everyone staring right now ’cause I’m walking with you?” I whisper to him with my gaze sweeping the hallway.
Jax is texting on his phone and distractedly glances up. Then he grimaces. “Probably.” He stuffs his phone into his back pocket. “Sorry about this. I can tell it makes you uncomfortable.” He dithers, chewing on his lip as he studies me. “If you want, we can give you your space. Personally, I don’t want to do that, but I get it if this is too much.” He gives a subtle nod at a group of girls sneaking peeks in our direction.
The Rules of Being Friends (A Pact Between the Forgotten Series Book 2) Page 5
