by Kailin Gow
so sexy, even his insults heated me up.
“Well, Mr. Cutter,” I said, swallowing down my
annoyance. “I'm sure Nanny would think you behaved like
an absolutely perfect gentleman last night.”
“Nanny would know,” he grinned a cocky grin at me.
“Father never bothered to visit me up at Eton, so it was really
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just her outside of term-time. She used to make me scones,
you know. Don't you just love scones, Miss Evers? I love
wrapping my mouth on one, licking the cream off it, and
swallowing cream.” His eyes burned into mine as he stared
at my mouth.
And with that, he turned on his heel and began to
stride off.
All at once, stupidly, I wanted to run after him, to talk
to him again, to try and make a fresh start. He was after all,
the son of my mother’s new boss. And Antonio Cutter did
say he wanted me to try to become friends with Chance.
“Wait!” I caught up to him, then stumbled a little and
ended up in his arms. I felt again that same sizzling desire
that had overtaken me last night.
Chance noticed it too. His face – so much more
painfully beautiful up close – was overtaken by shock.
For one brief moment, the shock was enough for me
to see the fleeting look of longing in his intense blue eyes as
he took a rapid step back.
“I have to go, Miss Evers.”
And before I could say anything, shame and
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embarrassment flooding over me, Chance vanished into the
locker room.
I was left standing there, my face flushed, and my
heart pounding like the beat of the luau drum. I could
remember the flames of last night flickering around Chance
and I as we danced, encasing us in a curtain of red and orange
warmth. There exist no barriers between us, just our raw
emotions, as the beat of the dance carried on. At that
moment, although I had just met him, I felt an eternity of
love, loss, and passion flood through me. He infuriated me,
but I still wanted him.
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Chapter 6
By the time I came home from school that evening,
I was exhausted. I'd had five classes that day, and in that time
my bookbag had been loaded down with textbooks upon
textbooks, most of which were completely unfamiliar to me.
Most of what I had learned at Angel High had been pretty
basic – World History, Post-Erosion History, Math, English
– but here the curriculum seemed to be completely different.
Not only was there an entire class devoted to the Erosion
Period – the decade during which the floods had transformed
the massive continents of the world into scattered
archipelagos – but indeed almost all the other classes were
focused on Aeros itself, ignoring the rest of the world. We
had one class just in Aeros History, and two in Mythologies
of Aeros. It appeared that the local settlers of Aeros had
worshiped what looked at first glance to be a mix of all the
other pagan religions of which I'd read – Norse gods and
traditional Polynesian ones were worshiped alongside
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Ancient Greek and Roman gods; likely, the textbook said, as
a result of traders from the Roman Empire getting
shipwrecked and stranded on Aeros thousands of years ago,
starting their own colony. It was interesting, to be sure, but
as I looked at the books I had unloaded on my desk, my heart
sank. Surely all the other students at Aeros Academy had
grown up hearing about these myths and legends, grown up
knowing who founded Aeros and when. But all that would
be new to me. I didn't know Aeros from any of the other
islands in the Pacific, except that it was pre-Erosion rather
than Post – and I certainly didn't know anything about how
the ancient Aerites worshiped the Roman god Neptune on
the beaches where the Cutter Imperial now stood. Everyone,
I felt, would be massively ahead of me – how would I ever
catch up in time to put more A's on my transcript for college
admissions? As I grudgingly started my homework, I was
glad that tonight was a Friday night, and at the very least that
I had two whole days before I'd have to present my work to
my teachers. I had a report on Early Fire Cults due for
Tuesday, two chapters of Aeros History and Culture to read
and summarize, and a quiz on the economic impact of the
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Early Erosion (2150-51) to prepare for on Monday. I no
longer had to worry about making friends, I felt. I wouldn't
have time for any, anyway!
At least Chance was new, too. I sighed as his face
came flickering back into my memory. I tried to put it out of
my mind, but the questions kept coming back to me. Why
had he treated me the way he had? What could he possibly
have against me to make him so angry at me? And what had
happened the other night at the party – the bonfire, the
flames, that sizzling sense of connection? I knew from his
expression today after gym class that he felt it too. From
glimpses of him when he wasn’t trying to hate me, I could
tell he wanted just as much as I did to give into our attraction,
our desires. But then why did he treat me the way he did? I
scowled at myself. I had never been one to let any boy treat
me badly – my mother had always given me stern talking-
tos about the dangers of mooning over crushes – but this felt
different, somehow. This was more than just a crush. There
was something I didn't know – something I had seen in
Antonio Cutter's eyes when he talked to me about Chance,
something to do with the bonfires and Chance's expulsion
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from Eton and the Cutter Scholarship my mother hadn't told
me about. Some secret that was being hidden from me.
And I didn't like it.
My mother came bustling in, her arms piled high
with papers of her own. “Insurance quotes,” she rolled her
eyes as she set the papers down on the kitchen table. “Honey,
do you mind if we order in tonight? It's going to be a busy
one for me. Some kid's having a pool party tomorrow – then
we have a wedding and a Polynesian Trade Convention.”
She sighed. “Or we could go over to the hotel. They have a
restaurant. And I could talk to Antonio about whether it's
possible to fit giant balloon animals in the main ballroom.”
It was only a five-minute walk from our house, a
small structure technically on Cutter property we had leased
for the duration of her job. “I could go for some hotel food,”
I said, remembering the taste of the fresh barbeque at the
luau. Then I remembered that Chance was probably there.
“On second thought,” I said. “Why don't we go for pizza?”
“Honey,” my mother sighed. “I thought you lo
ved the
hotel food. And I get free dinners there...”
I knew my mother didn't like to spend money unless
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she had to. I nodded and we grabbed our things. I loaded up
my bookbag again, counting on finding a quiet place to work
in the hotel.
“That's some bookbag,” said my mother. “They
working you hard at Aeros?”
I shrugged, not wanting to admit my worry or
troubles. As far as my mother was concerned, I was the
perfect child – stress-free, self-sufficient. “Nothing I can't
handle,” I said. My mother had a busy weekend; this wasn't
the time to bother her.
My mother beamed with pride. “That's my girl,” she
said, patting me on the shoulder. “You make any friends
today?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “There was this one girl in my
wrestling class...”
“Wrestling class?” My mother looked surprised.
“Yeah – it was the only class left with free spots. But
her name's Alice. She seemed nice. She lent me some spare
gym clothes.” I neglected to mention that the clothes gave
me the bust and rear end of a 1950's pinup girl.
“That seems nice of her,” said my mother vaguely. I
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knew the expression on her face. She was mentally
crunching numbers for the weekend parties. I was tempted
to ask her about the Cutter Scholarship, but I decided against
it. From the look on my mother's face, now was not the time
to have a serious conversation.
We arrived at the hotel and my mother took up
residence in her office, clearing away part of her desk for me
to use. This is what we'd always done, she and I – I'd done
my homework in some of the finest luxury hotels in the
world. We ordered from the restaurant, my mother eagerly
flashing her employee card, and set to work.
No sooner had I gotten through the first chapter of
Aeros history (“Pre-European Peoples in Aeros –
Settlements and Structures.”) than I was interrupted by a
knock on the door.
“Come in,” my mother said, not looking up from her
piles of work.
Antonio opened the door, and my mother leaped to
her feet.
“Don't get up!” he said. “Relax!” His eyes fell on me.
“Mackenzy! Just the person I wanted to see...” He laughed a
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little. “Well, actually, I came to see your mother – but seeing
you makes me think you might be a better bet.”
“What is it?” my mother took off her glasses.
“One of the servers for tonight's Bamford birthday
just called in sick – and the rest of the staff is working on the
Memberton Wedding on the other side of the complex.”
“The Bamford birthday? But that was supposed to go
off without a hitch – I confirmed their shifts this morning!”
“Last-minute allergy,” Antonio sighed. “I don't
normally handle the servers myself, but I ran into the girl
throwing up in the corner of the pool house and she told me
herself. Apparently she didn't realize the Polynesian rice dish
we served for lunch contained peanuts...”
“Oh, dear...” my mother said. “Do you want me to
telephone the reserve list? I'm sure someone could fill in...”
“Actually, I was wondering if Mackenzy might be up
to the job,” said Antonio. “You'd be paid, of course,” he
added quickly. “Server rates. And it might be a chance for
you to meet some of the younger staffers here at the hotel –
make some friends.”
I thought of Varun and my heart leaped. I was eager
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to see him again, I realized, even if he hadn't filled me with
the same frustration that Chance had done.
“Sure,” I said. “What time's the party?”
“It's at six,” he said. “Nothing too onerous – just
make sure none of the twelve-year-olds run off into the
woods, call the caterer if pizza's running low, dodge the food
fights, don' t burn yourself on the birthday candles. That sort
of thing. Do you think that you can manage?”
I thought once more of Chance.
“Do I have time to go back home to change?” I asked
my mother. This time, if I ran into either Chance or Varun, I
wouldn't be caught wearing undersized booty shorts.
I might even wear makeup.
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Chapter 7
I sprang across the lawn separating our cottage from
the main hotel. I had torn upstairs, ransacked my closet for
clothes, and done an emergency tweeze of my eyebrows. All
actions that I'd never normally bother taking – but somehow
tonight was different. If I ran into Chance again, I wanted
him to know exactly what kind of mistake he was making by
ignoring me. And if it took a little bit more mascara and a
slightly tighter dress to do that, then I was willing to put in
the effort. I caught a look at myself in the mirror and
frowned. My painted face, my two-sizes-too-small dress I
wore to the freshman dance – it didn't look like me. Some
other girl – more polished, but somehow less original –
stared back at me: a face that could have been any one of the
meticulously clad girls in Haven's retinue. I sighed – clearly
the over-the-top look just didn't work for me. I rolled my
eyes and returned to the bathroom sink, scrubbing off the
makeup and squeezing my way out of the old dress,
changing into a light blue-and-gold summer dress with a
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slightly vintage-looking skirt: one of my favorites. It may
not have had the oomph power of the other dress, but I
figured I'd rather be comfortable than try playing the part of
a femme fatale if it meant being unable to fit a single slice of
pizza into my constricted stomach.
By this time, however, it was already almost six, and
I realized with a flash of annoyance that I was running late.
I rushed out of the house, barely even stopping to catch my
breath, running as fast as I could over the lawns.
I coughed and spluttered as I came to a stop by the
front beach lawn, where the party was taking place. My
cheeks were burning red from the effort – providing me with
a warm glow more flattering than my attempts at sticking on
blush had been. But I at last caught my breath and walked
over to the party.
Twenty or so twelve-year-old boys were in various
stages of messiness, jumping in and around the enormous
pool, resting on floats and swim noodle. A myriad of
chocolate stains on their faces and trunks made it clear that
they'd already had the first round of snacks; the smell of
freshly-baked pizza wafted from the kitchen.
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Varun was standing behind the large buffet table,
wearing nothing
but a pair of swimming trunks. In the
evening light, his muscles glistened more visibly than ever.
He didn't look like Chance, to be sure – Chance's lithe,
sinewy body was darker – but was nevertheless every bit as
handsome. Good genes, I thought to myself, as Varun caught
my eye and shot me a happy grin. “Looks like you're not
tired of me yet, Mac! Or did you just come for the free pies?”
“Hey, kids!” he called. “Who's ready for pizza? I hear
that one lucky birthday boy is getting extra pepperoni and
sausage. And a MONSTER-SIZED crust!” He had that rare
talent of capturing kids' imaginations without ever
condescending to them – and it was clear that the kids sensed
it, too. One after the other, they all jumped up, shouting “Me!
Me! Me!”
“Okay, everyone. Jump in the shower then head
through to the dining room. My buddy Brandon will be
serving out the pies.”
I was surprised at how easily they followed his
directives. I'd never known twelve-year-old boys to be
particularly good at following directions. But Varun's warm
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voice and easy confidence seemed to inspire in them all a
desire to please.
“So, you ready to lead the activities after dinner?”
Varun asked me as the last of the children filed past into the
dining room. “I was thinking we could lead a game of Marco
Polo, then water-tag. How does that sound?”
I blushed, realizing my mistake. Everyone else was
in swimming clothes – except me. In my rush to figure out
what my most flattering outfit was, I had forgotten the most
important part. “I – uh – I forgot my swimsuit,” I said,