“What a loser,” Karsyn agreed with his customary smirk.
“A freak.” Lucas’s face was as impassive as ever, as cold as a marble statue. There was no inflection in his cruel words. “She’s nothing but a freak.”
“…excited to show you.” Mariabella’s babbling pulls me out of my dark thoughts. They continually threaten to drag me under, almost as if I’d gotten stuck in a riptide. Farther and farther away from shore I am pulled, and no amount of kicking and screaming and begging for air will release me.
“I believe you’re in my seat,” a voice from directly above me states. I whip my head up, startled, only to minutely relax when I see an unfamiliar, friendly face. For a moment there, I thought he was one of the guys. One of my tormentors. One of the monsters who lurk under my bed at night, gripping at my ankles with curved claws and jaundice eyes.
The guy slides into the seat beside me, maintaining that flirtatious, easy-going grin.
“I’m Emmett,” he introduces, extending a hand. I eye the proffered limb warily, half expecting this to be a trick. I’ll be the first to admit that I’m fucking paranoid. Everyone has an angle, and I’ll only survive if I figure out what that angle is ahead of time. So far, no one at school has recognized me, but that won’t last. Sooner or later, the vultures will descend on my disgusting corpse, pecking away at what little remains of me.
“Peony.” Relenting, I place my hand in his, surprised by how cold it is. Goosebumps pebble on my skin as I look at Emmett, really look at him, for the first time.
It’s easy to see that he’s a jock. Probably on the football team with Karsyn, judging by the letterman jacket covering his shoulders. He exudes a charm and charisma that most women find irresistible. Sandy blond hair, stylishly molded into a fauxhawk, frames a face that could make angels weep. When he smiles, I can’t help but notice the dimple on both of his cheeks. Laugh lines surround his jade eyes, almost the color I would associate with a magnificent jungle.
He really is a looker, and if the slightly smug glint in those gorgeous eyes is any indication, he knows it.
“That’s a flower, right?” Mariabella interjects.
“Yeah, how do you know?” Most people merely believe it’s a strange name my hippy mother picked out. Well, it is a strange name my mother picked out, but she’s no hippy. That title is reserved for my grandmother.
“I want to be a botanist, actually,” she confesses with a sheepish shrug. Almost nervously, she begins to twirl a piece of hair around her finger. “Plants and stuff.”
“We know what a botanist is, Mar,” Emmett jests dryly, and she sticks out her tongue at him.
One glance at the clock confirms we still have a few minutes until class begins. Already, the seats are three-quarters full, with more and more students trickling in. I don’t see any of the guys, but I didn’t expect to. I specifically made sure that my first couple of hours didn’t align with theirs. I figured I’d need a slight reprieve from my revenge, wouldn’t you agree?
“Where are you from?” Emmett flashes me another one of his irresistible smiles. He really is a good-looking boy…man. No one with working eyes would ever believe he’s a boy. It’s too bad that I refuse to date until I’m out of high school. Emmett would’ve been a fun distraction…but one that I can’t afford. I have one goal and one goal only—destroy the men who once destroyed me. Dating can wait.
“California,” I blurt after an awkward silence. “I just moved in with my grandma.”
“Oh, that’s super sweet of you,” Mariabella says, resting her elbow on the table and placing her head in her opened palm. “Does she need a lot of help around the house?”
She has three hunks to do it for her, but you know…I’m not complaining. One of those hunks cooks me food.
“Yes,” I answer instead.
“What do you think of this place so far?” Almost absently, Emmett drapes his arm over the back of my seat. The initial stab of panic I always feel when someone touches me rears its ugly head, but I shove it inside a reinforced-steel box.
Instead, I focus on Emmett’s question, only his question, until the panic abates like wispy strands of smoke. “I like it,” I confess, though that’s a complete and utter lie. I hate this school and everyone in it.
Half of these students saw what the guys were doing to me, but none of them stepped in. None of them helped.
Even Mariabella, as nice as she seems now, looked the other way when the Devils tormented me.
But I can’t focus on the turbulent anger wreaking havoc on my internal organs like a nose-diving plane. I have a plan, and I need to follow it to the T. “I’m a little sad, though, that I missed cheerleading tryouts.” I release a heavy sigh, dropping my head into my arms. “I cheered at my school in California, and I’m gonna miss the sport.”
Lie.
Complete and utter bullshit lie.
My school was actually a private school with no sports teams—unless you count FireBall, a game designed exclusively for witches.
Mariabella’s face lights up as if someone had lit a candle beneath her skin. Her brown eyes, outlined with fireworks of gold, sparkle in the artificial school lighting.
“I’m on the cheerleading team!” she blurts. “I can talk to Coach—”
“All right, class, settle down.” Auperlee waves her hands in the air erratically just as overhead, the bell begins to ring. “We have a lot to cover.”
The class immediately begins to quiet down, the usual whispers and grumbles all but diminishing, and I can’t help the grin that curls up my lips as I watch Mariabella out of the corner of my eye.
Hook.
Line.
And sinker.
Chapter 4
When class ends, I half expect Mariabella and Emmett to dismiss me like a child would after she wore down a new and shiny toy. Instead, the two surprise the ever-loving shit out of me by following me out of class.
“I have to go to algebra.” Mariabella points farther down the hall. “But come find me at lunch, okay?” Before I can respond, she gives me an awkward, one-armed hug—well, awkward for me anyway, because I’m not a hugger—and hurries in the opposite direction of me and Emmett.
“She’s…nice,” I muse softly as I reach into the side pocket of my backpack and remove the campus map. I can feel Emmett’s sandy blond hair tickling my cheek as he looms over my shoulder.
“She’s an energetic Golden Retriever puppy,” he snorts, but no ire laces his words. He sounds almost…fond of her. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t believe he’s desperately and hopelessly in love with her or anything, but I detect a strong sense of admiration and respect.
“And what does that make you?” I quip, easily keeping pace with him, despite his significantly longer legs. If I had to guess, I would say he’s a wide receiver on the football team. He’s lithe but muscular, nowhere near as large as Karsyn, but there’s no hiding the six-pack peeking through the gray shirt he wears beneath his letterman jacket.
“Oh…a Husky, maybe?” He laughs lightly, and more than a few girls turn in his direction at the sound.