Connected: Book 1 Connected Series

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Connected: Book 1 Connected Series Page 8

by Kat Stiles


  “So…tell me about Scott,” I teased.

  Dad perked up from the dining room, where he was reading the newspaper. “Yes, tell us about Scott,” he echoed, eyeing her down from across the way.

  Roz shot me a dirty look. “There’s nothing to tell. He’s a friend, nothing else.”

  “A friend, huh? Roz, all of the boys in our class fall into that category. Why does this one have a name?”

  “Honestly, Em. Do you have to be so rude?” She sounded indignant, as she often did when I insulted her minions. Quite protective.

  I smiled. We’d been friends long enough for her to know I wasn’t about to back down. “Tell me,” I whispered.

  She let out a dramatic sigh as she handed me the final dish. I dried it off and handed it back to her to put away. “Come on,” she said. Together we went to the living room and crashed on the couch.

  “He’s only a friend,” she said again. Like I would buy it this time.

  “Uh, yeah. Apparently you didn’t see the way he looked at you. Like you were dessert.”

  “Please. He hasn’t even asked me out.” She turned her attention to finding something to watch on TV.

  “Not yet,” I said. “But I’m sure he’s planning out all the sordid details. Probably working on it while we speak.”

  She flipped through the channels at a blazing speed, until she settled on some crappy reality show about housewives or something. “You’re wrong about him. He’s very calm around me… I really don’t think he likes me.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Roz, you’re like a modern day Venus—all boys want to date you. They all like you.”

  “Not Tommy.” She glanced at me, grinning victoriously.

  I smiled when I realized she was right. “Guess so. I’m still getting used to the idea that a boy wants to speak to me for a reason other than finding out about you.”

  “What did I say? This is going to be a good year for you.”

  I barely heard her, already thinking about Tommy. I was excited about our date, but worried he’d caught on to my secret. Does he know I can heal? And if he does find out the truth, will he think I’m a freak?

  Chapter Six

  For the first time in my life, I was actually happy on a Monday morning. I got to English early, hoping to see Tommy before class started. Right as I settled into my seat, he walked into the classroom. He passed by my desk, covertly brushing his hand on my hair. I smiled, and then noticed he’d dropped a note again. This time, I opened it quickly. It read:

  I had a good time, too.

  “Is there anything you can’t hear?” I mumbled softly, more to myself than him.

  “No,” he said, from his desk in the back corner of the room.

  I turned to see him smiling at me. “Hi there.”

  “Hello.”

  He slid out of his desk and moved to the seat behind me.

  “It’s softer than I imagined,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Your hair,” he explained, and blushed. “I, uh, kinda touched it on the way in.”

  “Yes, I noticed.” I tossed my hair all back behind me so the entire length faced him. “Be my guest.” His hands encompassed my hair.

  “Wow.”

  I wished I could see his expression. “I know. It’s a lot of hair, right?”

  “Well, yeah, but the feel of it… I’ve never felt hair this soft.” He continued to touch it a while longer before some other students entered the classroom, including the demon Angel.

  “I wish I sat here,” he said, letting go of my hair.

  “Me, too,” I said, and then whispered, “You’re nicer than her.”

  Seeing us together apparently delighted Angel. “You two really are dating, aren’t you?”

  Still walking towards us, she let out an obnoxious giggle. Then she stumbled just as she passed Tommy. I smiled.

  “Did you trip me?”

  I laughed at her shocked expression. She looked like she just sucked on a lemon.

  “Don’t blame me—it’s not my fault you’re a klutz,” Tommy said. He returned to his desk.

  “Whatever, loser,” she muttered.

  “Coming from bitch of the year,” he said, flipping her off.

  I enjoyed the exchange entirely too much, a giddy smile on my face. The only thing missing was some popcorn.

  Her eyes were sheer venom as she turned back towards him.

  But Tommy laughed. “You’re even uglier angry. Didn’t think that was possible.”

  “Hmph,” she said and frowned like an indignant child. “Like it matters what you think, delinquent.”

  “Seriously? Delinquent? That’s the best you could come up with?”

  She didn’t say a word, but opened her notebook and pretended to care about last night’s homework.

  “Wow, that was so cool,” I said under my breath, too quietly for her to hear.

  “Thanks,” Tommy said from his desk. I turned to see him grinning.

  He does hear everything. That’s going to make things interesting.

  * * * *

  I made it to lunch early and was one of the first people to get through the line. By the time I got to the table, Tommy was already there.

  “Hi,” I greeted him.

  “Hi.” He smiled, and I nearly fell into my seat, focusing so intently on him.

  “You okay?”

  I placed everything carefully down on the table and situated myself. “Yeah, I’m good.”

  He reached across the table, intending to hold my hands, I was sure. The mere thought of touching him set me off, and my hands were slick in an instant. My heart began to race. I thrust my hands under the table and avoided his eyes.

  “Is something wrong?” he asked.

  Yes, something is very wrong. I have disgusting sweaty hands. “No,” I said. I attempted to dry my hands on my jeans. Of course that didn’t work, so I focused on my lunch instead, clawing at the milk carton in a futile attempt to open it.

  He retracted his hands. “You’re not still nervous around me are you?”

  “No,” I said, avoiding his eyes. “I’m really hungry.”

  “Oh, okay.” He opened his own lunch and began to eat.

  Roz barely acknowledged us when she sat down at the table.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked her.

  “Yeah, everything’s fine,” she said, in a tone that betrayed her words.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  An overwhelming feeling of frustration and anger hit me. But it wasn’t what I was feeling. It was as if I could sense it from Roz.

  “Roz, what’s the matter?”

  She didn’t answer but wolfed down her lunch in record time. Then she smiled politely and gathered her stuff. “Got some studying to do. Catch you guys later.”

  Wonder what’s on her mind? I finished my lunch, right when Tommy asked me a question.

  “So who’s your favorite superhero?”

  “Probably Wonder Woman. I wish I had a magic truth lasso. Oh, and an invisible jet would be neat, too.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, Wonder Woman is kick-ass. I like the Flash.”

  “Why am I not surprised?” A section of my hair swung forward, crowding my face. I tucked it behind my ear.

  “What do you mean?”

  “How fast you ran the other day. Were you involved in some kind of lab explosion?”

  He sighed. “If only I could be so lucky.”

  “Are you going out for track?”

  “I thought about it. But I can’t. I’m needed at the shop,” he said.

  “Oh.”

  He smiled. “It’s okay. I prefer running alone anyway.”

  I could feel his emotions contradict his words—he was disappointed. First Roz, now Tommy. What was going on?

  * * * *

  Roz never did fess up, even on the bus ride home. But I didn’t have time to worry about her. I took a quick shower, and then did my homework while I waited fo
r Tommy. I smiled when the knock on the door came sooner than expected.

  “Hi.” I waved at him nervously. Did I seriously just wave? I wanted to slap myself.

  “Hi.” He adjusted his hair back, avoiding my eyes.

  At least he’s as nervous as I am. I let him in and walked him over to the couch, inviting him to sit down.

  I started to say something at the same time he spoke. We both stopped talking and smiled awkwardly at each other.

  “You first,” I said.

  “I was going to say, if you wanted to introduce me to your mother, that’s cool. I know she wants to meet me.”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “After I left the other day, I thought I heard your mother ask about me.”

  I was confused until I recalled Lauren’s ambush. “Oh, that wasn’t my mother. It was my annoying sister.”

  “Your sister is the one who wants to meet me?”

  “I know. It’s stupid. I don’t know what her problem is.”

  “She cares about you, right? How can that be bad?”

  I looked at him blankly. You’ll find out soon enough, I thought. “Come on,” I said, eager to get it over with. “The Ice Queen is working, so you won’t get to meet her, but my mother’s here,” I said, on the way to the study. It was where she spent most nights, working away on her computer.

  The door was ajar. I knocked gently.

  “Come in,” my mother said, her voice sounding beyond exhausted.

  Nudging the door open, I found her slumped in her chair, massaging the bridge of her nose. I sighed, noticing the length of her hair.

  “This is Tommy,” I said.

  “It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” Tommy said.

  “Hi.” She put her glasses back on and eyed him critically. Not quite disappointment, but certainly not approval either. She swiveled back to her computer.

  I couldn’t believe her rude behavior. “Is it okay if we watch a movie?”

  “Not too late,” she said, not bothering to turn around. “It’s a school night.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Okay.”

  Once we cleared the room, I whispered, “Sorry I had to put you through that. She’s usually nicer.”

  “It’s fine.” He flashed a nervous smile. “She doesn’t hate me, right?”

  “No. She probably had a bad day at work.”

  “What does she do?”

  “She’s a database administrator,” I said. “She gets calls at one in the morning all the time. On vacation, she gets calls. And sometimes she comes home with this look on her face…. They must really mess with her head there.”

  “Sounds pretty stressful.”

  “Not something I’d want to do, that’s for sure.” Once we made it back to the living room, I asked, “Do you want anything to drink?”

  “No, I’m good.”

  I left for the kitchen and came back with two glasses of water. “In case you get thirsty later,” I said, placing one down on the end table next to him.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I clicked the TV on and navigated to the Sci-Fi channel, and then settled in a couple of feet from him on the couch.

  “So how is it you were able to hear the Ice Queen yesterday?” I said, turning in towards him.

  He smiled the most adorable crooked smile. “I told you I have good hearing.”

  “You were already around the corner. I think that goes beyond good hearing. And in the park…”

  His expression changed to a knowing grin. “I guess you could say my, uh, senses are heightened.”

  “Wow. That’s so cool.” My mind flashed back to prior lunches at school when he read those tiny letters and heard us from across the room.

  Then my stomach dropped. What else did he hear? I remembered what I said to Roz, gushing on about his eyes and how he ran half-naked. I hid my face in my hands and groaned, completely mortified.

  “Are you okay?” he said.

  “You heard everything,” I muttered through my hands.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “At lunch. My conversations with Roz.” I released my face and turned to him. “You heard it all, didn’t you?”

  A small, innocent smile appeared on his face.

  “Oh my God.”

  “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s not like you said anything—”

  “Embarrassing?” I finished. I could feel my face turning red.

  “I was going to say it’s not like you said anything I wouldn’t have said. I think your eyes are nice, too.”

  Well, there’s nothing I can do about it now, I reasoned. The damage is done. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” He ran a hand through his hair and then adjusted himself more comfortably on the couch. “So you really call your sister the Ice Queen?”

  “There’s a reason for that. You’ll see.”

  “I think I’m afraid to meet her,” he joked.

  “You should be,” I said in all seriousness.

  He laughed. “She can’t be that bad, can she?”

  “She pretty much hates everyone. Especially boys.”

  I took a sip of water from my drink and watched the screen as the movie started.

  “There’s gotta be some redeeming quality to her,” he said.

  “Haven’t found it yet. Not much hope left.”

  He slowly reached for my hand, and I stopped breathing. Damn, what should I do? He can’t touch me. He’ll be totally grossed out.

  Breathe, Em. I ran my fingers through my hair, pretending to adjust it. Then I settled both of my arms on top of each other, across my stomach. Tommy let out a frustrated sigh.

  I wished I could touch him. I tried to covertly dry my hands on my shirtsleeves, but it didn’t help—they were wet seconds later.

  “Can I ask you a personal question?” he asked.

  Oh no, I’m caught. He’s going to ask why I pulled away. What do I say?

  “Have you ever gone out with anyone before?”

  Not exactly the most comfortable question in the world, but still way better than explaining my hands. “No.”

  The silence that followed was unnerving. Does he think I’m a total loser? “Have you?”

  “Twice,” he replied. “But I’m not sure either of them count.”

  “Why? What happened?”

  He let out a nervous laugh. “It turned out both of them were only trying to get to my brother.”

  “Oh.”

  “You haven’t seen my brother, have you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  He smiled. “Good.”

  My brow furrowed. “Why would I have seen your brother?”

  “He goes to our school, too,” he said. “He’s a senior.”

  “What’s so special about your brother?”

  He shrugged. “Hell if I know.”

  We turned our attention to the screen, right in time to catch the first incantation. We weren’t quite halfway through the movie when Tommy sat upright and looked off to the side, adjusting some hair behind his ear.

  “Sounds like the Ice Queen is home,” he said.

  My whole body tensed, and I slid farther away from Tommy on the couch. I peered around, as if she would materialize out of thin air at any moment.

  He laughed. “She scares you more than the Necronomicon, huh?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “She parked her car,” he said, continuing to listen. “She’ll be coming in any minute now.”

  After I lowered the volume on the television, I could hear he was right. My hope she would be working the closing shift was ridiculously optimistic. The “Imperial Death March” played in my mind as the front door opened and she made her way to the living room.

  “Lauren, this is Tommy,” I said, before she could open her mouth.

  She was still dressed in her uniform, most of which was carefully hidden under a sweat jacket. She waited tables at a place called, “Tommy’s Knockers,” a l
ocal sports bar, where the servers were all female with “uniforms” consisting of a bikini top coupled with short shorts. I figured at least part of the reason she kept the job was to reinforce her belief that men were worthless, because they all acted like idiots there. The other part, undoubtedly, was the tips. She and I shared the Milford legacy of overly ample breasts, a feature she took full advantage of.

  “Tommy what?” Lauren asked.

  “Smith,” he answered, extending his hand.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Tommy.” She shook his hand. “What does your family do?”

  “He’s not going to take the blood test, so you might as well not ask.” I kept my eyes fixed on the screen. Tommy stifled a laugh by pretending to clear his throat.

  “We run a gas station and repair shop,” he said.

  “Anything else?” I adjusted the volume higher. “We’re trying to watch a movie, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  She put a hand on her hip and let the other arm hang down at her side in a deceptively relaxed fashion. I knew it to be a defensive stance, always the same, every time she was about to grill me.

  “What are your intentions?” she asked him. I could tell by her voice she was completely serious.

  “I can’t believe…” I took a deep breath in an attempt to maintain my composure. “Please leave now, Lauren.”

  “Answer the question, please,” she said in a voice that bordered on casual, cordial even. It was all part of her methodology. I had often wondered if she took an advanced interrogation techniques class at college.

  “I—” Tommy began.

  “Don’t answer her, she’s insane. Come on.” I stood, fully intending to leave. I didn’t know where, but anywhere would’ve been preferable to staying there, getting interrogated by Lauren.

  “Fine. Don’t answer.” Her sinister blue eyes glowered at mine. “I’ll find out anyway,” she said under her breath as she left.

  I anticipated her return—I didn’t believe she would back down that easily. The noise of her fumbling around in the kitchen was both a distraction and lingering threat. We settled back down on the couch, but I had trouble getting comfortable again, and I noticed Tommy fidgeting a little too.

 

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