Rage of Vendetta (The Vendetta Series #2)

Chapter 12

"What is this?" Jesse asks.

"Money," I reply, winking.

I climb on first, and the driver accept the piece of worthless paper with no questions asked. He'll think it's whatever he needs to think it is.

Passing an old woman seated with her back ramrod straight at the very front and a teenage boy slumped on a seat behind her, I head to the very back, the long seat that would show a status of popularity if this were a school bus.

We all know the one.

Suddenly, a rush of air whooshes past, and I am nearly bowled over.

"I want the left window seat!" Sasha exclaims, rushing for the spot. Eric is not far behind her, also going for the same one.

"I would have given it to you anyway," I mutter, steadying myself

Courtney pushes past quickly next, though I am more prepared this time. "I want the other one!" she declares.

"Oh no, you don't!" Vee says, moving in the race for the right window seat.

I put both my hands up in an I surrender gesture. "I was going for the middle anyway!"

"They're like little kids," Jesse comments, coming up behind me.

Worse than little kids.

"I know," I say, plopping down next to Courtney who had lost the window seat to Vee. On the other side, Sasha had won the window seat, and Eric is sulking next to her.

"What's so great about the edges?" I muse. "You can't get out very fast."

But as the bus starts driving again, I realize. There's nothing to look at except the aisle if you don't have a window to stare out of. My neck cranes too uncomfortably for admiring the scenery in this seat.

"You could admire my face," Jesse says.

"You could stay out of my head," I reply, slapping the tickling at the base of my neck. "I thought we had gotten over this phase."

He shifts in his seat, getting comfortable. "This phase will disappear soon as these streaks wash out. Which is never."

"I very nearly had a rebel phase and dyed pink streaks into my hair when I was fifteen."

The words blurt out my mouth before I can stop it, the memory making me smile slightly.

Jesse stares at me, unblinking, almost trying to decide if I were serious. And then: he roars with laughter. This is ironic. Sometimes I hate karma.

"I didn't actually put any pink into it," I insist.

I had backed out last minute after seeing Lily turn her lovely dark locks into dry, pink fuzz. I was surprised my ears still worked after how loudly her mom yelled at her. Neither of her parents had noticed as I awkwardly backed out of their house. Lily had somehow remained calm the entire time, and even came to school the next day with a fake eyebrow piercing.

I blink back into reality to see Jesse stop, tilting his head at me. "Who's Lily?"

I point a warning finger. "My head. My thoughts."

In impatience for me to carry in, he waves his hand.

Gnawing on the inside of my cheek, I say carefully, "She was my best friend back home... here, now, actually."

"How come this is the first I've heard you mention her?"

I shrug, staring ahead into the aisle. "You should know. It's painful to think about and mention the life we were taken from."