“Brianne, look!”
I glanced up from the novel I was reading, curious to see what my friend, Kyla Strutters, was excited about. My eyes slid past her giddy figure, latching on to the school parking lot. I didn’t see what the fuss was all about. I mean it was a parking lot. It didn’t scream, “Oh, let’s hop up and down from excitement!” to me.
Kyla was so weird.
“And what, may I ask, is so interesting about the parking lot?” I drawled, shooting my friend an amused look.
Kyla huffed, her hands going to her hips. “Look closer, you moron.”
I gazed out at the parking lot again, trying to find the source of Kyla’s outburst. A few groups of people were chatting as they made their way to the grounds, oblivious to the vehicles trying to find a good parking spot around them. Buses were letting kids out as they sat lined up on the curb. Nothing really stood out. It was just a normal morning at Lewiston High School.
“I don’t see anything,” I replied finally, shaking my head. “Is this like the time when you were delirious and saw things that weren’t really there?”
Kyla’s gaze tore from the parking lot and settled on me. She regarded me coolly as she sputtered, “You know that was the result of pain killers because of my surgery, Bri! I thought we agreed never to speak of that again.”
I giggled under my breath, wiping my face with my hand. “Sure it was.”
Kyla rolled her eyes, turning her attention back to the parking lot. I sighed lightly, following her gaze. She was staring towards the school’s entrance, her eyes alight with admiration. I squinted. I couldn’t see what the heck could be so fascinating.
And then my eyes landed on a specific car.
“Seriously?” I whined. “That’s what you’re obsessing over? That’s really sad.”
Kyla didn’t even blink. She’d blocked me out, her world consumed by one thing and one thing only: Dannon Barone. I sighed, my eyes flicking back to him as he slammed the door of his Saturn shut, reaching an arm over his head to lock his doors with what I presumed was his automatic locker. I pursed my lips as the headlights flashed. I just didn’t get why everyone was so obsessed with the guy.
I mentally sighed. Dannon Barone was like one of those stereotypical jocks from a chick flick. Surrounded by people all the time, soaking in his fame, and putting on a smile to attract the ladies. Oh, he pretended that he was nice and caring, but I bet that he was just a jerk behind a mask. A fake. And I hated him for that on principle.
I looked back at my friend and groaned, closing my eyes. She was practically drooling as she stared, seeming as though she was going to faint. This was ridiculous. Hadn’t people seen a guy with dark locks of hair and electric blue eyes before? By the looks of the fan-girls around me, apparently not.
The sad thing was? Dannon didn’t even look like he noticed half of the girls staring at him. He crossed through the parking lot at ease, trotting across the crosswalk and onto the school’s grounds without a care in the world. He didn’t even glance at the four or so groups of girls gawking at him from the school’s lawn. It was like he didn’t know they were there.
“Here he comes!” Kyla squealed, her hands curled into fists as she held them against the bottom of her mouth. She giggled loudly.
Idiot.
“He’s going to hear you,” I warned. It was quite embarrassing being around someone so openly showing off their affections to another someone that didn’t give them the time of day. It was sad, really.
Kyla studiously ignored me. I grumbled under my breath. This boy was making all the girls go nuts. It was rather infuriating.
“Oh, he is some fine man,” Kyla murmured as Dannon sauntered by, making his way to his group of friends. It was like she was in a trance. Oh, just kill me now.
“You have no respect do you?” I demanded haughtily. I hopped up from my spot on the stone wall that divided the path to the school and a small hill, wiping the pebbles off my butt. I scowled. “Kyla, stop staring at his back like it’s a pot of gold!”
“It might as well be.” She sighed dreamily. “Ah, it should be against the laws of nature for something that beautiful to exist.”
I rolled my eyes. So dramatic. I spun around, grabbing my backpack irritably from the stone wall, throwing it over my back. I plucked my book up as well, holding it protectively to my chest. It was quite depressing that my book was giving me more attention than my best friend.
I cast an icy glance in Dannon’s direction, where he now stood socializing with his crew. Everyone knew the people in the crew by name. I mean, who couldn’t? Most of them were on the football team or the cheerleading squad.
I pursed my lips. There was Shelley Kaye, her blond hair glinting in the sunlight as she spoke animatedly, her arms flying through the air. Combining her hair, her baby blue eyes, and her soft facial features, she reminded me constantly of a model from a magazine. There was Garner Osborne, the boy she always seemed to be arguing with. He was tanner than everyone else in the crew, and his hair was like milk chocolate against his skin. That combined made his dark eyes pop. There was Oliver Pyker, Dannon’s best friend. He had dark hair like Dannon, but unlike Dannon had dark brown eyes that almost seemed black. And then there were Meghan Freeman and Paula Jordyn, the two girls that always seemed to be together. Meghan with her light brown, crimped hair and hazel eyes, Paula with her dark, wavy locks and even darker eyes. They were a tight-knit group, the crew. Almost never apart.
Suddenly Dannon broke away from the group, giving a small wave before heading inside, digging through his bag and pulling something out. I squinted, trying to figure out what was in his hands as he yanked the entrance door open and disappeared inside the school building. With a defeated sigh, I leaned back against the wall. Dammit. I didn’t get to see what was in his hand.
“Oh my God did you see his muscles flex as he opened that door?” Kyla gasped. “Ah! So sexy!”
I rolled my eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. Seriously? She was resorting to talking about his so-called-muscle-flexing now? “You’re going to have to apologize to God now for saying His name in vain,” I drawled, pushing away from the wall. I brought a hand through my dark brown locks, irritated that I was stuck having this conversation. Kyla pining over boys neither of us would ever have was beyond annoying.
Kyla sighed exasperatedly, her hands going back to her hips. I bit my lip, somewhat amused that she wasn’t taking any notice to the fact that her hair was whipping around her face because of the wind. Her hair, in contrast to mine, was blond, seeming almost white when in the sun’s path. “So what you’re saying is that you didn’t enjoy that at all?”
It was amazing that she sounded surprised. I’d made it quite clear that I had no interest in dating. None of the guys here caught my eye. Dating just wasn’t high on my to-do list at the moment. I had too many things that I was concentrating on—like school—to be distracted by something like that.
“Frankly no,” I replied bluntly, shrugging. I adjusted my bag’s strap on my shoulder. Stupid backpack.
Kyla threw her hands in the air. “I can’t believe you!” she seethed, grabbing her bag roughly from the ground and throwing it over her shoulders. She scowled as she adjusted it to be more comfortable. “It’s like you’re a robot with absolutely no interest in love at all.”
“You say that like you’re surprised.” I smiled without humor as I took a step back toward the school building. “Can we go inside now?”
Kyla huffed, stamping her foot childishly before nodding. Together we made our way to the school doors, struggling to get by the crowds. The crew, surprisingly, wasn’t the problem. They’d dispersed all heading inside to go to class. Which made sense seeing how it was almost time for classes to begin anyway.
“Brianne, why don’t you date?” Kyla whined, shooting me an annoyed look.
I shrugged. “I don’t know, because I don’t want to? That’s like asking why you’re so short.”
“Hey!” Kyla hissed. “That was uncalled for.”
I grinned, shaking my head. It was true. She was shorter than me, and I was short—only five-foot-two. She was the shortest senior in the school. She didn’t take pride in the fact that she was shorter than even most freshman, and hated it when people brought it up. Well, it served her right. If she wanted to talk about my lack of dating tendencies then I had a right to make fun of her height.
“Now,” Kyla said slowly, changing the subject back to me as she pulled the door open, “why don’t we talk about how I’m going to find you the perfect boyfriend this year?”
I scoffed. “I don’t want a boyfriend, Ky. Haven’t I made that abundantly clear?”
“I don’t care.” She eyed me sternly.
I laughed bitterly, struggling to push past a girl texting on her cell phone without outright pushing her. I didn’t need her getting mad at me. I didn’t even know the girl. “Why do you care if I date or not?”
Kyla smiled brightly. “Everyone needs love in their life! It’s what makes the world turn. Not to mention keeps it populated.”
I shoved her playfully. “Yuck! You’re such a perv.”
Kyla grinned. “That’s what they tell me!”
We turned, heading down the broad hallway. I eyed the rooms with curiosity, wondering how classes were taught in these rooms. Were they strict teachers, nice teachers? Were there smart kids answering every question, or was everyone silent while they waited for the teacher to answer the questions for them? Or were—?
“Brianne!”
I blinked, hard. I turned, facing my friend. Oops. Guess she’s asked a question and I’d been so lost in thought that I didn’t hear. “What?”
Kyla sighed deeply as though I was causing her great pain to have to repeat herself. “I was talking about the perks of dating, only to realize that you weren’t listening. It’s very rude to block people out you know.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “You did the exact same thing to me earlier.”
It was Kyla’s turns to raise an eyebrow. “I did?”
I scoffed, shaking my head. It was amazing how well the mind could block out things that it didn’t want to hear. “Yeah. When you were, you know, gazing dramatically into the distance, gaping like a fool as a boy walked into the building.”
Kyla laughed, not looking at all ashamed that she’d made a fool of herself. “Anyway,” she continued, ignoring my comment completely, “I was looking around online last night and I found this website on love.”
I cocked an eyebrow. A website on love? It was all I could do not to scuff. The thought of someone sitting there typing out advice on love was just ridiculous. It was one thing to rant about it to a friend, but to dedicate your life to spilling out your thoughts about it? “That’s how you spend your free time?” I mused. “Stalking love websites?”
“Yes, actually.” Kyla flicked a hand through her hair defiantly. “I was thinking of ways to get you to date.”
“Good luck with that.”
Kyla huffed, shooting me a glare before continuing. “There was a list on it! It was talking about how different fruits brought different things to you.”
I laughed. “Let me guess. A peach brings you a zebra?”
“Actually it will help you find your way into your crush’s life,” Kyla corrected. She fixed the sleeve of her shirt, smiling brightly. “Unless, of course, you have a crush on a zebra.”
I bit my lip, barely containing my laughter. It was hard seeing how an image of a girl crushing on a zebra popped into my head. I tilted my head to the side, imagining them getting married now. It would be a wonderful wedding, only vegetarian food served of course. The zebra would be offended if meat were served. And—
“You’re not seriously imagining a girl having a crush on a zebra, are you?”
I blinked, turning back to face Kyla. She was grinning, her face lit up in amusement. I laughed despite myself, shaking my head. “Psh, no of course not.”
Kyla sighed, muttering something about me being crazy and needing to find more friends. Then she smiled, saying, “The list was so genius, Bri! You have to do it.”
“No.” I brought a hand through my hair, silently wondering what on earth got Kyla so love-struck that she thought a stupid list on a stupid website would work. “Definitely not.”
“Why not?” Kyla demanded as we made our way up a set of stairs.
“Because I, unlike you, am quite content with the prospect of being single.”
Kyla scowled at me. I shrugged nonchalantly, not seeing the bid deal. So what if I enjoyed not having the drama of boyfriends in life? Who cared if I enjoyed not crying when a boy broke my heart or his promises? Who cared if I wasn’t like Kyla who lived off that and almost always had a boyfriend? Who cared?
Well, obviously, Kyla did.
“How do you know if you’re content being single if you never try dating?” Kyla demanded as we approached the landing, looking at me from the corner of her eye.
“It’s simple, really,” I drawled, smiling brightly. “I don’t have the urge to go out with anyone. Therefore, I must be happy the way I am.”
We reached the next floor and headed down the hall. I couldn’t help but grin as my friend began ranting about me under her breath. Apparently I baffled her. I infuriated her. I flabbergasted her. What baffled me was that she knew all those big words.
“You have a stunning vocabulary,” I teased as we reached our lockers. They were right next to each other—something that we considered very good luck; well, and poor judgment on the school’s part.
"I know.” Kyla sniffed, prying her locker open. It creaked eerily as she did, sending a shiver up my spine. I hated creaky things. They creeped me out. That was why I hated it when my older brother, Garrett, used to play horror movies—not to mention cruel jokes on me—when we were younger. But he was in college now, so I didn’t have to deal with it.
I laughed softly, pulling my science book out of my locker and hugging it to my chest. It was mandatory to bring our books to class. I didn’t really understand why. I mean, the year was over halfway over and we’d opened them like twice. Maximum.
I leaned over, peaking inside Kyla’s locker. She’d taken the time to decorate it with little frills and colorful hand-drawn pictures as the backing. On top of those girly things pictures of Kyla and I were plastered everywhere. Us making crazy faces, having good times. She’d always said that senior year she was going to decorate her locker as a memento of us, but I didn’t think she would actually do it. But she did, and it came out great.
Kyla abruptly slammed her locker shut. She spun, flashing me a smile and holding up her history book. “I have Mrs. Carl today!” She struggled to clap sarcastically. “Yay.”
Mrs. Carl was at the top of the “Most-Hated-Teachers-At-LMS” list. She was the stereotypical strict teacher who never let anything slide—unless she absolutely loved you—and receiving detentions was in the norm. Homework constantly overflowed in her class, and she never pitied you. Ever. Sometimes I couldn’t help but wonder how someone could possibly marry someone like her. But, maybe, however unlikely this scenario was, she was different at home than at school.
“Have fun,” I said with a snicker. I sighed deeply, shooting a glance in the science room’s direction. “I have Brent to deal with.”
Brent Shepard. He sat beside me in science class. I usually didn’t mind him—he was nice, and he respected my need for space. We chatted every once and a while, but for the most part, I kept to my side of the table (our desks were tables in there) and he kept to his.
That was, until yesterday afternoon.
Brent cornered me after school yesterday and asked me out. I’d stared at him in shock, not knowing what to say. I mean, how could you reject someone nicely? How could you tell someone that you didn’t return whatever feelings they had? As I struggled for what felt like forever to think of something to say, his face fell. He knew he’d been rejected before I could even open my mouth.
“Oh jeez,” Kyla muttered, tossing me a sympathetic look. “Good luck with that.”
I sighed again, bringing a hand nervously through my hair. “Thanks.”
We said our goodbyes and split, each heading to our own separate classes. I entered the science room cautiously, my eyes scrambling to find Brent. He was there, sitting in his usual spot, tapping the wood impatiently with his knuckles. Brent kind of reminded me of a surfer. I didn’t really understand why. Maybe it was the fact that he was really tan but had dirty blond hair and powder blue eyes. But he didn’t really act like a surfer. In fact, he didn’t act sportsy at all.
I quickly looked away from him as he looked up. My eyes trailed across the whole room. Mr. Parkinson, the teacher, leaned forward in his chair, hunched over a bunch of student-work he was grading. He was an okay teacher for the most part. He taught great if you liked doing experiments all the time—which I didn’t. Why people liked playing with test tubes and making freaky potion-like substances that could blow up at any moment, I’d never know. No, I’d rather take notes while he droned on and on. Call me crazy, but I found it easier.
Mr. Parkinson had the most unique classroom I’d ever seen. Sleek wooden tables with black table tops and little stools for the students to sit on were set in rows. A small circular table sat in the middle of the room, big enough to sit three students. Three girls sat there now, gossiping and texting under the table.
In the back of the room, beside Mr. Parkinson’s desk, was another table, where some select students sat to do individual work. It was the perfect place to sit when you were doing a test. You had more space and a more comfortable seat.
At the front of the room was Mr. Parkinson’s experiment table. I cringed when I saw a bunch of random liquids inside test tubes. So we were going to be doing another experiment today. Great.
I forced myself over to my table—which was the last one on the left—and sat down. I avoided Brent’s gaze, keeping my eye on the liquids. One suspiciously looked like pee . . . oh gosh, please don’t be pee!
“Hey,” Brent said softly beside me, catching me off guard.
I jumped slightly before turning and struggling to smile. “Hey,” I replied, feeling completely awkward.
“So, um, about yesterday—”
I waved my hand dismissively. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”
My stomach dropped as his face fell. Crap. I’d said the wrong thing. “All right,” he muttered, picking at his sleeve.
I mentally slapped my face. What a stupid thing for me to say! That was the last thing someone wanted to hear—well, at least that’s what I’d learned from movies Kyla’d made me watch. I’d probably just destroyed any chance of having a non-awkward conversation with Brent ever again.
I was about to say something—anything—but at that moment a figure appeared in the doorway. I looked up with everyone else, my eyebrows knitting together in surprise. Dannon sauntered in, a piece of paper within his hand. Huh. Was that what he’d pulled out of his bag earlier? Probably.
“Oh my God!” a girl from the circular table squealed. I watched as she kicked her friend in the shin. “He’s here!”
The friend spotted Dannon and began squealing as well.
I rolled my eyes, grabbing my bag from where I’d set it on the floor and picked it up. I withdrew my book from it before setting it back on the floor. I was about to open it when I heard Dannon’s annoyingly cheerful voice from beside me.
“Mr. Parkinson?”
I glanced up, frustrated that he decided to pause at my table and lean on it without my permission. Who did he think he was, coming in here and invading my space?
“Oh, Dannon!” Mr. Parkinson bellowed out. It wasn’t one of those angry bellows where you wanted to clear the room before a rampage began. Nah, it was one of those loud, happy bellows. “What can I do for you?”
I snuck an irritated glance in Dannon’s direction as he held up the piece of paper. “Homework help?”
“Ah!” Mr. Parkinson grinned. “Come over here, and I’ll see what I can do.”
I resisted the urge to smack his hand away. It would give me great pleasure. But, sadly, the mob with pitchforks that would chase me after would not be pleasurable. So slapping him wouldn’t be in my best interest.
Dannon moved away from my desk, trotting over to Mr. Parkinson. They began talking in hushed voices, discussing the problem Dannon was having with his homework. So it seemed Mr. Totally-Sexy-And-Totally-Amazing wasn’t perfect after all. At least, not in the schoolwork area.
“Look at them all,” Brent said with a scoff.
I turned to Brent, a confused expression on my face. “What?”
He gestured to everyone in the classroom. “Look at them. All turned into zombies over one guy.”
I complied, looking around the classroom. He was right. Everyone was either staring at Dannon’s back a though it was the most delicious thing they’d ever laid their eyes on, or giggling and pointing to him. Even the guys nodded in Dannon’s direction as though they appreciated his presence. Wow. This was just sad.
I shook my head, sighing and opening my book. I struggled to read, feeling Brent’s gaze. I gave up and glanced at him. “What?”
“Nothing.” Brent smiled lightly before pulling out a notebook and beginning to doodle aimlessly. I wasn’t going to lie—he wasn’t talented in the drawing department at all. I mean, you could tell he was attempting to draw a man walking a dog, but what you got was a weird stick creature walking what looked like a rabid squirrel.
I cocked an eyebrow. “Nothing?”
Brent sighed in defeat even though I hadn’t really pushed him for answers that hard. “It’s just . . . weird.”
“What’s weird?”
“You don’t gawk at him like you’re love struck.”
I laughed shortly, tossing a glance in Dannon’s direction. “That would be because I’m not.”
Brent smiled. “I know.”
I rubbed my arm, feeling that this conversation was now getting awkward. I mean, he was looking at me like he wanted to eat me. Eat me. Was that normal when you had a crush on someone? Wanting to eat them? Or was that just a cannibal thing?
“Thanks,” came Dannon’s bright voice from behind me.
“Any time,” Mr. Parkinson replied. “Is it all cleared up now?”
“Yeah.” Dannon chuckled. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye and saw him looking over the paper. “I understand now.”
My gaze returned to my book, losing interest in Mr. Popular. I’d much rather read about a dark fantasy world with lots of action. In other words? I’d much rather read The Summoning by Kelley Armstrong than pay attention to a regular guy hold a regular piece of paper in his hand in a regular school.
Suddenly Dannon was making his way out of the classroom, waving to a couple of people on his way out. I didn’t get it. How did he get to be so revered? Was there even a time when he wasn’t popular? We didn’t go to elementary school, so I wouldn’t exactly know. But he’d been this popular in middle school, too.
Sigh. This world was just so damn confusing.
| It ♥ All ♥ Started ♥ With ♥ An ♥ Apple |
“Do it!”
I shook my head. “Absolutely not.”
We were sitting in the school’s cafeteria, lounging in one of the few booths connected to the wall. There were only five of them, so we were lucky to have gotten one today. I had my legs kicked up on the bench across from me, getting nice and comfortable. It wasn't every day we got to sit in a booth. Usually we were stuck at a table looking like loners.
Kyla outstretched her hand, an apple resting on her palm. “Do it.”
She, being the incredibly stubborn girl she was, was attempting to get me to chuck an apple across the cafeteria to see who my “future love” was. I didn’t really see the point, so I refused to chance getting a detention because she decided to act crazy.
“No!” I hissed, tempted to smack the apple out of her hand. Maybe if it fell onto the floor she’d leave me alone. Probably not, but it didn’t hurt to dream. “You and your superstitions are insane.”
Kyla glowered at me as though it was my fault she was shoving an apple into my face. “Brianne Nichols,” she muttered lowly, “if you don’t throw this apple across the cafeteria right now, I will and blame it on you.”
I scanned the cafeteria, weighing my options. There were a lot of boys in here—they outnumbered the girls easily. So, sadly, my chances of hitting one were at an ultimate high. On the other hand, I could easily aim for the floor. But, knowing Kyla, she’d make me through another supposedly magic apple if I did. Or maybe she would make me date the cafeteria floor. She’d do that. Knowing her.
Or I could just not throw the apple and get blamed for something that I didn’t do.
I groaned at the prospect. Being framed was not something I enjoyed. When Garrett and I were younger he tried blaming me for shaving the neighbor’s cat. I’d punched him, yelling at him to tell the truth before I beat it out of him. In the end we were both attacking each other in the yard, only stopping when our parents pried us away from each other. We both got grounded for a week.
Good times, good times.
“But what if it hits someone?” I demanded softly, turning back to Kyla.
“That’s the point,” Kyla drawled, shaking her head as though I was being stupid.
“The teachers will give me detention,” I continued, refusing to relent. I wasn’t just going to give in and chuck an apple across the cafeteria.
“Bri.” Kyla scoffed, sweeping her hand across the air. “Do you see any teachers here? I don’t.”
I groaned. She was right, of course. Apparently the teachers thought it would be hilarious to ditch their duties and not watch over the students as they ate. What if something terrible happened? I mean, kids could start fighting, beating each other up. That happened once—two girls started attacking each other in the middle of lunch because one girl apparently stole another girl’s man. Their “man” just sat there and watched, amused. But, in this case, it would be a crazy hormonal teenager trying to get her not-crazy, not-hormonal friend to chuck an apple.
“Throw it,” Kyla chirped, swaying the apple back and forth. It was like she thought she was going to hypnotize me into doing it.
“I don’t think so.” I shook my head, crossing my hands over my chest. “Why don’t you throw it and see who you’re going to end up with?”
“I don’t have to.” Kyla sniffed, bringing a hand through her hair. “I’m fully content finding my dream guy by myself. You, on the other hand, need a push.” She gestured to the apple. “So throw the damn apple!”
“Fine!” I grabbed the apple, tossing it between my hands. I had no motivation to throw it. Like, seriously. I was so scared that it was going to hit some scary guy and then he’d beat me up. There were guys like that in the cafeteria.
I searched around, looking for a good place to aim. I wanted to aim for the floor, but I had to choose the best place to throw at—you know, in case it didn’t hit the floor. I spotted Dannon and his crew sitting at the far end of the cafeteria. They’d brought two tables together—because, you know, they were popular so they could get away with that unlike the rest of us peasants—and were laughing and having the time of their lives. I wasn’t surprised to see that all the tables surrounding them were filled with fangirling girls.
“Brianne,” Kyla drew out slowly, obviously containing her impatience, “are you going to throw it or what?”
I sighed deeply. “Yes, your highness. Give me a moment.”
Kyla grinned. “Close your eyes and chuck randomly.”
I closed my eyes, knowing I was an idiot for doing this. I was going to regret it, I knew I was. I mean, you didn’t just throw an apple at someone and get away with it.
“On the count of three,” Kyla said giddily. She bounced up and down with excitement—I could feel her shaking the bench.
“One.”
I bit my lip, clutching the apple tightly within my hand. Why, oh why, was I doing this?
“Two.”
There was still time. I could open my eyes, laugh at Kyla for thinking I would actually do this, and then continue eating my lunch.
“Three!”
The apple was suddenly out of my grasp. I kept my eyes closed, bracing myself. A teacher was going to walk in, see my arm still in the air and a flying apple racing toward what was hopefully the cafeteria floor. Then I was going to be taken to the Main Office and my mom was going to ground me forever.
Suddenly my eyes flew open as a cry of shock rang out. Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no! I’d hit someone!
The scream was definitely masculine. “Ow!” he cried, bringing a hand through his hair. “What was that?”
I felt dread trickle up through my body as I realized who I’d hit.
Oh. Shit.