As class settled, I took my seat beside Dez. He didn't speak to me, didn't even bother to acknowledge my presence. He kept his eyes forward, his broad shoulders stiff as he made a point to ignore me. I decided to swallow my pride and break the silence first.
"Dez, listen—"
He turned to face me, and I was surprised that it was a smile—not a glare—that veiled his striking face. "How are you, Peacock?"
"Uh, fine I guess." I furrowed my brows, not quite believing this was the same Dez who had walked into the room only moments ago. "You?"
"Honestly, could be better." He sighed as he leaned back in his chair. "I had to get my schedule changed in order to fit baseball practices in the morning. I didn't have enough time to run straight from practice to get to a first period lab. The only other lab available was this one."
"Oh."
"They said I got lucky. There was one person left in the class who didn't have a partner." Dez shrugged, bringing his gaze to the whiteboard as he copied down the objectives for the experiment. "If I'd known who that partner was going to be, of course, I'd have never agreed."
I wasn't sure what I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't that.
"Then go back to your old schedule," I spat, barely able to keep my suddenly coursing anger restrained. Screw what my dad said about judging Dez too harshly.
"Believe me, if I had a choice, I wouldn't hesitate," he said.
Before I could respond, Mr. Matthews announced the lab for the day's class and dismissed us to begin. He grunted something inaudible before turning back to his computer. Whatever it was, it seemed today wasn't the exactly best day for him. That made two of us.
I used the opportunity to get some space from Dez and walked to the back of the room to get my goggles and gloves. But as I reached for the gloves, Dez reached for the last pair and held them up for me. Eyeing them for a moment, I wondered if he'd somehow managed to slip some itching powder in them without me noticing—before deciding I didn't care. I needed to pass this class, and unfortunately, I'd have to do that with Dez now by my side.
Just as I reached for them he sidled swiftly out of my reach, taking the gloves with him and handing them to a giggling blonde at the table in front of ours.
"Last pair for the most gorgeous girl in the room." He smiled in a way I'd yet to see him do, in a way that was careless but somehow equally seductive—his gaze promising a hundred different things as he looked at her, and only her. My chest tightened. That wasn't the face of the boy I'd met at the bookstore or the boy who'd followed me into the woods to make sure I was okay. That was the face of the school's biggest player, the irresistible Desmond Warren.
The girl thanked him before blushing uncontrollably. Dez smiled in satisfaction as he made his way back to our table.
I shook my head as he once again stood beside me. "Jerk."
"Snob."
"Is everything okay over here, Miss Callaway? Mr. Warren?" I didn't realize Mr. Matthews was standing behind us until his voice had caused me to nearly jump out of my skin.
"Everything's great." Dez threw his muscled arm over my shoulder and pulled me into him. "I think we're going to get along great. Isn't that right, Peac—Lyra?"
Mr. Matthews arched a brow.
I nodded, throwing my arm around Dez's waist and digging my nails into his side.
"Yes, Mr. Matthews. Looking forward to having a partner." I squeezed harder. Dez muttered a curse but covered it up with a smile.
Mr. Matthews gave us a wary look before he walked away, muttering something that sounded a lot like, "Good luck."
As soon as he was back at our table, Dez spun me around to face him. He leaned his face in close, so close I could smell the earthy citrus on his neck, the mint on his tongue. I clenched my teeth, if only to keep myself from breathing him in more. It wasn't fair—he smelled so damn good it was near intoxicating. Up close, I swore the tiny flecks of gold in his eyes burned like stars. No—like the sun.
And that's when it hit me.
My dream . . . The tower . . . The dragon . . .
That kiss.
Oh, god. I turned away from Dez so quickly, I ended up spilling the contents of my beaker onto the front of his shirt—which wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't vinegar that now stained his clothes and stunk up the air around him.
"Shit! Dez, that was—"
"An accident?" He growled, cutting me off before he closed the space between us and snatched the beaker from my hands. "They were just gloves. Get over it."
He reached into his back pocket and pulled out another pair—the actual last pair—before tossing them onto the table in front of me. "Here are your precious gloves," he snarled before stalking off towards the sink station to wipe his shirt off. For a moment I just stood there stunned, barely registering the many curious glances from my nearby classmates. Barely registering that it was Dez—Dez that had kept me awake for the entirety of the dark morning.
I didn't let myself think about what it meant.
I went after him.
"Look, Dez, I'm sorry. That really was just an accident." I bit my lip, unsure how to make him believe me. I couldn't blame him for assuming I'd done it on purpose considering I'd been nothing but rude to him since we'd met—and if I were being honest, for no good reason at all. "What can I do?"
He didn't answer. When the silence stretched for far too long, I looked up to find him just . . . staring.
"You're upset," he said finally.
"I'm—"
"I didn't mean to upset you, Lyra. I'm sorry," he said a bit louder, glancing over his shoulder to make sure our audience was listening. He gestured towards his shirt. "Accidents happen. Don't even worry about it."
And then he smiled, gently tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear with a hand that was soaked in vinegar . . .
Vinegar that now seeped into my hair and stuck to my skin.
His smile deepened as he again lowered his voice. "You don't fool me. You're not sorry, and that wasn't an accident. You don't like me, and you've made that clear from the moment I introduced myself to you at the bookstore. But if that's how you want to play, my little bird, then by all means." His gaze became feline, his voice smooth and utterly predatory as he said, "Let's play."
***
The end of class couldn't come fast enough. Dez and I had spent the rest of the period hardly able to keep from going at each other's throats. The more time I spent with him, the more I hated him—and the more I hated myself for reacting so strongly to every little thing he said or did.
When the bell rang, I left class too quickly to be mistaken for anything other than running. And I didn't care if it looked like I was running from him. Another minute with Dez, and I very well might have lunged for his throat.
"Peacock, wait." That growingly familiar voice trailed after me. Picking up my pace, I shoved past the crowded halls of our school, but despite managing to get past the horde of students, I still felt him at my ankles.
"I'm an athlete. You think I can't keep up?"
I paused at the end of the hall where there would be fewer witnesses to whatever we got into next. I spun around and faced him. "What do you want?"
"Are you really going to the bonfire this Friday?"
The bonfire? I'd just spoken to Hannah about it last night. "How did you know about that?"
"Are you?" Dez demanded.
"Why do you care?"
"Just answer the question. Are you going or not?"
I exhaled, knowing he wouldn't leave me alone until I answered. "I don't know. I haven't decided."
"Great. Then let me make the decision easier for you—don't come."
What the hell? "Excuse me?"
"You heard me."
"It's not your party." Despite the calm in my voice, I could feel my blood sizzling beneath my skin. "You don't get to decide that."
"Don't care. I don't want you there." He shrugged, his attention falling to someone behind me. I followed his gaze to that blonde from our class smiling and calling him over to where she stood by her locker. When I faced Dez again, his attention was wholly on her.
"Ridiculous," I muttered.
"What?" He didn't bother to peel his eyes away from her as he spoke. He was giving her that smile again.
"You. You are ridiculous. Do you even have an attention span?"
"Ah-huh."
A waste of time—this entire conversation. I began to walk away, but I'd barely made it two steps before I felt a hand on my arm, gently tugging me back. "Hold on."
I turned around slowly, feeling my patience thinning by the second. Dez's expression was rigid, no trace of the flirt who'd been shamelessly making eyes at the blonde just a second ago.
"Why are you doing this, Dez?" I was tired—not just because I'd been up at odd hours of the night dreaming about the jerk, but because I'd spent so much energy trying to piss him off in Chemistry that I'd hardly left any energy for myself.
He studied me, and I could have sworn there was something else in that brilliant stare. Not just hate or annoyance, but—a tinge of guilt. Of worry.
"I meant what I said." He seemed to be pleading it more than he was demanding it. "Don't come."
"Why?"
"I told you." There was more of a finality to his words as he repeated, "I don't want you there."
I almost laughed. "What makes you think I care about what you want?"
He shook his head as a muscle worked his jaw, and then I heard him mutter, almost too low for me to hear, "So fucking stupid."
And maybe it was my stubbornness or what was left of my pride. Or maybe it was the stench of vinegar that punched my nostrils when a door opened nearby, sending a rush of air to ruffle the hair right behind my ear. But I gave Dez the sharpest smile I could muster before I walked away from him and said over my shoulder, "I'll see you there."
***
When I got home from school, I didn't think I'd ever been so happy to see the four walls of my room, the queen-sized bed that called to me from my bedroom door. I knocked out as soon as my body hit the sheets, and I didn't wake up until the sun was sinking into the horizon. It was only when our maid Elise woke me up for dinner that I realized how long I'd slept. Five hours. Talk about a power nap.
I was at the dinner table with my father, unsure how to bring up the bonfire, when I suddenly remembered something far more important I needed to tell him.
"So, Gina came by yesterday." I tried and failed to hide my grin.
From the corner of my eye, I saw my father perk up in his seat. "Really?"
I looked up at him and smirked. He quickly worked his features into forced disinterest. "What did she want?"
"She asked to borrow an egg."
"Oh." His face fell. "I hope you gave it to her."
"Seriously?"
"What do you mean seriously? If the woman asked for an egg, Lyra, I'd hope—"
"An egg, Dad. What woman who lives in an oceanfront mansion needs to borrow an egg? She obviously heard you were home and came here to see you."
He opened his mouth before shutting it again. After a moment passed, he shook his head and forked through his food. "Don't be silly."
"I'm being silly?" I barked a laugh. "How long until you have to leave again?"
Guilt coated his expression. "Lyra . . ."
"It's okay Dad, I understand. Work needs you. How long?"
"I'll be here until Friday morning."
"Perfect." I grinned at him from my seat. "That means you have two days—well, technically one if you don't count today."
My father tilted his head, confused. I pointed at his cell-phone sitting on the counter. "Ask her out before you leave."
He shook his head, rejecting the idea before he even considered it. "I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Lyra, we've talked about this."
"I'm not telling you to marry her." I shrugged. "Take her on a date. I know you like her. She clearly likes you. What's the harm in getting a nice, candlelit dinner downtown, maybe in a private little rooftop garden with the early perennials, add some good ole Cabernet Sauvignon . . . "
My father nearly choked on his food. "Let's not get carried away now—"
"Are you going to call her or not?"
My father sighed before stealing a glance at his phone. But that fraction of a look—it was all I needed to know. I jumped up from my seat as I reached for his phone and gingerly placed it in his hands.
He looked down at the screen before bringing his blue-green gaze to my own. "If I do this, you'll stop pestering me about this?"
"Hey, don't act like you're doing it for my sake." I shook my head as another laugh escaped me. "We both know your fingers are itching to hit call."
My father sighed again, but he didn't argue as he finally tapped through his screen. I jumped up in excitement.
Finally—finally.
But before he bothered to press the little green call symbol on the touch screen, he set his phone down in front of him and looked at me.
I opened my mouth to protest, but my father stopped me before I could. "I'll call her, don't worry."
I relaxed into my seat.
"But only after you tell me what's bothering you," he added with a knowing smile.
I crossed my arms. "Not fair. I wasn't even being obvious this time!"
My father shrugged in response, his smile a twin to the earlier one I gave him as I handed him his phone. "It's up to you if I go out with Gina now."
***
"You're sure about this?" Ethan set the car in park as we pulled up in front of the address Hannah had given to me the night before. The house was elegant but modest—a simple two story home lined with red brick walls and sweeping french-style windows, similar to some other houses down the narrow street but each somehow unique in their own way. I admired the neighborhood; it looked like a real community—unlike my street where the houses were all isolated by big iron fences.
"You're sure you don't want me to go in with you? I can pass off as someone just a little older than you, around your age group. That's why your father hired me, you know."
"You don't have to. I'll be okay, really," I said, though my hand was still frozen on the door handle.
I looked at the house again and felt an unsettling wave of unease run through my spine.
What was I even doing here?
Though reluctant to let me go, my dad had agreed to the bonfire, especially after I'd explained to him how Hannah felt I'd been neglecting our friendship. He was more understanding than I'd expected, but he ordered Ethan to have full surveillance and even hired an extra few hands to keep a back-up sweep on the surrounding vicinities. Lukas was posted not too far from the house.
I knew it was my father's guilt that caused him to take such extreme measures, no matter how many times I'd told him that what happened last year was never his fault.
He ended up calling Gina after our dinner, but it turned out she wasn't free until Saturday—which was a shame considering my father was going to be gone for another week. They called in a rain-check though, and had officially set a date for ten days from now. I could tell my father was excited.
It made me excited.
"So," I said, turning to Ethan in the car, hoping to buy some more time before I had to go in. "How's your mystery lover?"
It had been a while since I'd asked for an update on his love-life. I'd been so preoccupied for the past week, it had hardly occurred to me to ask.
Ethan nudged me with his elbow. "Do you think I don't notice the way you never refer to my quote-on-quote 'mystery lover' as a she?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume—"
Ethan burst into laughter.
"It's not a secret, Lyra. I'm gay." He added with a wink, "Another reason why your father hired me."
I think my jaw might have dropped. "Why did you always act like it was some big secret?"
He shrugged. "It wasn't my sexual-orientation I was uncomfortable with. It was . . . well, it was . . . "
"Your mystery lover?" I grinned.
Ethan nodded, hardly able to keep the smile from splitting his face. "I was a little iffy on things at first, but Brad's great. Things are great. He's . . . great."
Brad. So that was his name.
I didn't know what it was about the moment. It might have been seeing my bad-ass bodyguard turn to absolute mush as he spoke about his soon-to-be boyfriend, or it might have been the simple fact that there was something inherently nice about discovering something new, but it gave me the courage to step out of the car and finally make my way to the house. I tried not to think about Dez or the two silent but indignant days we spent together in Chemistry—and the fact that I'd be seeing him now. I was still angry about our exchange on Wednesday and had avoided him at every turn while at school, but I reminded myself this wasn't about him. I was here for Hannah, after all.
"I won't be long," I said to Ethan, "I told Hannah I'd only stop by to say hi."
"Don't worry about me. Go ahead and have a good time. Call or text if you need anything at all, got it?"
I nodded as I turned away from the car and walked towards the other black Mercedes parked next to the mailbox, along with a bunch of other cars I could only assume belonged to my classmates. I offered Lukas a small smile as he lowered his window—even though I knew he wouldn't return it. I knew it wasn't personal. It was just the way he'd always been. My guess was that he was around my father's age, and like Ethan, he took his job seriously—which was another reason why I had even considered going tonight.
I couldn't keep the nerves from my voice. "I don't know why I'm here."
"Everything okay?" His eyes, a deep brown color that reminded me of cinnamon, scanned the vicinity behind me before he returned his gaze to me. Lukas' eyes were perhaps the only part of him that I had ever glimpsed any emotion, the only part of him that allowed me to guess what he might have been thinking—and even those instances had been rare. Right now was certainly not one of them.
"Do you want to go home?"
"Absolutely." I straightened as I looked to the house—my hell for the next five minutes. "I was just telling Ethan that I won't be long."
He nodded curtly. "We'll be on standby."
I waved my goodbye to him as I forced one foot in front of the other, straight to the driveway. I reminded myself this was for Hannah, that I was here because I wanted to prove to her that our friendship meant a lot to me. But if I was being honest with myself, there was also one other reason I was standing just a few feet away from what I had been trying to avoid since I'd moved here—all the socializing and partying and making friends.
I shook those thoughts of him from my head as I approached the backyard and took one sweeping, deep breath—similar to how I would ready myself to keep from drowning in endless, murky waters.
And then I slowly entered the bonfire.