Chapter Three

“I don’t know,” Nik says, lifting the envelope out of my reach. “Maybe I should wait until after school. Make you sweat.”

“Hey!” I pout. “It’s my birthday. I should get to open presents without emotional warfare.”

His eyes glitter with mischief as his lips curl into a smirk. If I didn’t see him as a brother, his boyish charm would be dangerously effective.

“I guess,” he says. “But fair warning, this is the only thing I was able to get.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect,” I say. “You always come through.”

He hands me the envelope. I take it, still glaring up at him like I’m not secretly thrilled.

“Thank you,” I say, and tear it open.

Two tickets.

Backstage passes.

To Shinedown.

“You got me backstage passes to Shinedown?!” I squeal.

Freyja and Cherie both whip around mid-conversation.

I launch myself into Nik’s arms.

“If I’d known this was the way to your heart, I would’ve done it sooner,” he wheezes, laughing. “But maybe ease up on the hulk-grip just a little?”

He sets me down with his hands still at my waist.

I grin. “Sorry. I forget my own strength sometimes.”

Freyja and Cherie wander over.

“What did you do to make her squeal like that?” Cherie asks. “We need the formula so we can repeat the phenomenon.”

“Oh, nothing,” I say, bouncing on the balls of my feet, “except he got me backstage passes to my favorite band.”

Freyja giggles. “So you were able to get the tickets after all.”

I narrow my eyes at her. “Wait. You knew?”

She does her innocent maybe-dance, shuffling from foot to foot.

I roll my eyes, smiling anyway.

“I thought you didn’t have class until second period,” Nik says as we start toward the school. The warning bell rings as we reach the doors.

“I don’t,” I say. “My car’s not working. And I need the library to finish our English project.”

We split off. Freyja and Cherie head to first hour.

I head for the library.

The feeling of being followed creeps up my spine, raising the baby hairs on the back of my neck.

I turn, expecting a prank.

No one.

I shake it off and walk through the quiet library toward the computer lab along the back wall.

A new guy sits at one of the computers, relaxed like he owns the place.

Handsome. Not creepy.

He has a scar above his left eyebrow, the kind that suggests an old piercing or a bad decision with good timing. His green eyes look sharp and amused. A black Metallica tee stretches across a muscular build.

If having a boyfriend was anywhere near the top of my to-do list, he’d be a problem.

I take a seat two computers down and log on.

“Damn,” a low voice says, rough and unmistakably male. “She’s gorgeous.”

I glance around.

No one else.

Just him.

A strange familiarity prickles across my skin, and memory yanks me under.

Flashback

I’m ten, sitting in Berik’s ’97 Dodge Dakota on the way to the zoo for my birthday.

My parents had asked her to take me for the day. The only rule was that she had to keep me away from the house at all costs.

I assumed surprise party.

Because kids are optimistic idiots.

After the zoo we went to a theme park. Then a Broadway showing of Beauty and the Beast. Then dinner. I was happy. A little tired. And a little sad my parents weren’t there.

On the drive home, a woman’s voice whispered close to my ear.

When we get back, nothing will be wrong. Everything will go the way they promised.

It sounded terrified.

I looked at the radio.

Off.

Freyja slept in the back seat.

Berik stared straight ahead, hands tight on the wheel.

I blink back into the present, staring at the computer screen like it might explain my life.

The new guy leans slightly toward me.

“Hey. You alright?”

“Yeah,” I say, shaking the past loose. “Sorry. Weird morning.”

“Makes two of us,” he says, and there’s something in the way he looks at me that makes my skin feel too warm.

“You’re new,” I say, more statement than question.

“Yeah. My dad and I moved into town over the weekend.”

“How are you liking it?”

“It’s not bad,” he says. “I’m used to big-city life, but I’m getting the feeling this town has sharp edges under the polite paint.”

His eyes stay on me like he’s trying to read a code.

“I’m sure it does,” I say, keeping my tone light as I open my project folder.

Thelma appears just as my paper prints.

“Oh, Falencia!” she calls in her thick Cajun accent.

“Thelma!” I smile. “How are you?”

“Same ‘ole same. Counting down the days until summer finally blesses us.”

“Going home?”

“I sure am.” She tilts her head at me. “Are you finally ready to stop playing it safe and go on the ride of your life?”

I’d turned her down every year.

This year, something in me is tired of surviving and calling it living.

“Since I always say no,” I reply, “I figured I’d say yes. Just once.”

“That is music to my ears, mon cheri.” Her smile deepens. “Let me help our new student, and we’ll talk about that trip after school.”

She turns to him, glancing at me with a look I can’t quite decode.

“Falencia, would you mind showing this young man around today? Looks like he has nearly every class in common with you.”

She hands me his schedule.

Second Hour - English

Third Hour - History

Lunch

Fourth Hour - Speech

Fifth Hour - Free

It’s too perfect.

That creepy feeling crawls back up my spine.

I swallow it.

“No problem,” I say.

The new guy stands and offers a half-smile.

“So you’re my tour guide.”

“Congrats,” I deadpan. “You’ll regret it by lunch.”

We step out of the library as the bell signals the end of first hour.

“You aren’t much of a talker,” I say.

“I can be,” he replies, “when the conversation’s worth having.”

Smooth. Annoyingly smooth.

“I noticed you seem close with the librarian,” he adds. “What’s the story there?”

“She’s best friends with my mom,” I say. “Don’t let the sweet hospitality fool you. Thelma’s a spitfire, especially where her family is concerned.”

We stop outside English.

I’m about to head in when arms wrap around my waist from behind.

A low, almost animal sound brushes my ear.

Then Nik’s voice follows, bright and possessive in the way only best friends who are secretly doomed can manage.

“Hey, Falencia.”

I lean into him for a second before stepping back.

“This is…” I pause, realizing I never asked.

The new guy steps in smoothly and extends his hand.

“Addam Danvers. First day.”

Nik’s smile is polite. His grip is not.

“Welcome to Summit High.”

The handshake lasts a second too long.

The tension is stupidly obvious.

I’m not doing the alpha contest in the hallway.

I turn and walk into class, heading for the back where Nik and I usually sit, pulling out my materials and silently praying he didn’t forget his half of the project.