I knew, because I couldn’t undo the real emotion I felt over Pietr; instead, it threatened to undo me.
I fell backward on my bed with a groan.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Look. Sarah? If you really, really want Pietr—and I mean really—talk to him. About everything. He’s brilliant.” As much as I wanted to be the one talking to Pietr, it wasn’t working out that way.
“Jessica, some of us don’t worry so much about how brilliant a guy is,” she grouched.
“Sarah, talk to him. That’s what he really needs.”
Silence on the other end.
“I was thinking about other things he might need,” she admitted coyly.
I struggled for breath, my eyes screwed shut against the image of Sarah working her wiles on Pietr. “Sarah,” I ground out. “You’re smarter than that.”
She sighed. “Maybe.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. “I-I gotta go.” I hung up the phone and lay on my bed, shivering, curled around my pillow as my tears darkened its case.
* * *
I rode Rio out of the paddock and down the hill that night. Together we tore around the farm, looking for anything to jump. For anything to challenge us.
We didn’t return until we were sprinkled with sweat and flecked with foam.
I made up my mind on that ride. I would prepare for the Golden Jumper. I would remain Cat’s friend, helping the Rusakovas as I could. I would consider dating Derek and move past Pietr.
My broken heart would heal.
Things would return to normal.
I would embrace my new, new normal life. Horseback riding, farm chores, school, the newspaper and a handsome non-werewolf boyfriend with a potential football scholarship.
Normalcy. Life would be good again.
Because it had to get better than this.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“What the—”
“Whoa,” Amy echoed as Pietr took a seat at our lunch table.
“I know—it’s awful looking, isn’t it?” Sarah whispered dreamily, reaching up with a brazen fingertip to touch the bandage stretching from Pietr’s eyebrow to his cheekbone.
Everyone at the table paused, gawking.
Everyone except for Pietr and our most recent addition, Cat, who had switched classes to eat lunch with us. Pietr loaded his fork and began to eat.
Cat shook her head, lips pursed as she played with her straw until it squeaked.
Most of us had been there when Pietr nearly knocked his head off during a risky ATV ride. We’d spent ten fear-filled minutes as he lay in the mud, bleeding …
… dying.
Cat and Max revived him and he recovered remarkably quickly. I’d been ready to believe in magic then. But that wasn’t it at all. It was cold, hard science that kept Pietr alive. He’d worn a small Band-Aid a few days thanks to his extraordinary healing abilities.
This bandage was much—much—bigger. Which meant he’d been much, much dumber.
“What did you do to get that?” I demanded.
Pietr didn’t answer. He glowered at me and shot a look over my head. To the clock.
Cat answered. “He fell out of a tree. Onto some rocks. Head first.” She looked at him, her jaw tight.
Amy winced for me.
“Why were you in a tree?” I pressed.
Cat again: “Curiosity.”
Amy grinned. “But curiosity killed the—”
“Cat? Da,” Catherine responded, never missing a beat. “Ironic, is it not? Except that curiosity only gets Pietr started. Stupidity will surely finish the job.”
Pietr rolled his eyes to her. Then back to the clock.
“Who patched him up, Cat?” I asked, realizing that talking to Pietr was a lost cause.
“Max.” She shrugged. “They’re spending a lot more guy time together recently.”
Not reassuring. If I’d looked up hedonist in the dictionary I was fairly certain I’d see a picture of Max grinning wickedly back at me. His theory was simple: Do what feels good, live in the moment. Just have fun.
And why not? As the eldest true Rusakova, Max was closer to death than the others. His internal clock would start running down almost as fast as it had been wound up.
When Pietr rose to empty his tray, I followed.
“Listen, jackass,” I began. “I don’t care if you don’t want to see me anymore. I’m over it, okay? Have all the fun with Sarah you want. With my blessings.”
“But for God’s sake, Pietr,” I continued, tone wavering. “Remember, I’m still your friend.” I grabbed at his arm, and he pulled back, glaring. “Stop trying to kill yourself. As mad as I am, I don’t want you hurt.” The last words came out softly, a sad whisper of fact. “I’m still your friend. I care what happens to you.”
Derek was suddenly beside me, looping an arm around my shoulders he glared at Pietr on my behalf. “Is he giving you trouble?”
“More than you can imagine,” I admitted, breaking free of Derek’s hold and storming off.
* * *
That afternoon as I scrambled to swap books for my next classes, I saw something out of place at the bottom of my locker. More than something out of place (which described most of my locker’s contents), something new. A note. From Pietr.
Jess.
I can’t be your friend.
Sorry.
So I wrote him one back. A simple note that summed things up for me at that moment.
Jackass. You idiotic jackass.
I slipped it in through the grate at the top of his locker’s door, hearing it flutter and flop onto whatever was inside. I took a breath.
And remembered my mother’s words: “Never write anything you might be ashamed of later.”
I fumbled with the locker’s handle, rattling the door. It held. We had computers in constant blue-screen and water fountains that leaked more often than they worked. Pietr’s locker, however, was the one thing at Junction High that seemed absolutely fine. Of course.
“You okay?”
Derek.
I spun around. He leaned against the lockers on the other side of the hall, arms crossed, head inclined, watching me. Amusement grew in his blue eyes as I struggled.
“Yeah,” I grumped, giving the door a last try. And a kick.
He crossed the hall and picked up my backpack, brushing against my shoulder.
My body tingled in response. “I can carry that.”
“I know. Just let a guy do something nice for you for a change, okay?” He winked at me. “We’re not all jackasses.”
I blinked and let Derek walk me to class.
* * *
I rode the bus each day, like normal. Most days Pietr arrived late; some days he left early. I tried not to notice.
Sarah grew more tired by the day, the results of exhaustion accumulating and showing themselves when she’d snap in anger before pulling herself back together. She was quick to apologize for anything she said (except to Amy).
I wasn’t sure which part of her was quicker to react—the good girl seeking a better way, or the vicious girl she had been. She wouldn’t open up about her problem, but I bet something was chasing sleep from her.
Derek walked me to classes regularly. Tempted to ask about his ex-girlfriend, Jenny, I caught her watching us once. He simply stepped over to her, spoke a few soft words, and touched her shoulder. She smiled dully, but even that was a big improvement considering how sad she used to act.
Derek sat beside me when the opportunity arose. He didn’t join us for lunch—it seemed that was still Pietr’s turf. But he made his presence known. As well as his dislike of Pietr.
He reached out for me every chance he got, taking my hand, stroking my arm, touching my cheek. He tried to kiss me once, but I dodged so fast he nearly nailed a locker with his lips. It wasn’t that kissing Derek wasn’t appealing—it just seemed like a betrayal of Pietr.
Though Pietr was far from kissing me.
Things blurred in my life as
I focused on survival. I was a robot, every move mechanical, none inspired. I did my chores, did my schoolwork, rode Rio, and avoided Wanda.
Everyone moved forward except me. I was mired in the past and what could have been. Maybe that was normal, too.
* * *
It didn’t seem a good sign that my favorite werewolves (and Pietr—currently my not so favorite) wouldn’t eat the school lunch the first day of the new program. I’d never seen Pietr poke at the “food” congealing on his tray. Of course, he’d never given it time to congeal, either. He always wolfed it down, giving me a clear understanding of the origin of the phrase.
But instead of eating the mystery meat, he glanced at Cat and then back at his tray, seemingly determined to allow it to solidify into some frightening Jell-O mold. Warily I looked at Cat as I opened my bag lunch. Her delicate nostrils flared, and her lips pursed. When it seemed no one was looking, she shook her head at Pietr.
I bit into my apple.
They exchanged a look, eyes pausing on the school lunches in front of Amy, Sarah, Sophia, and Marvin.
The rest of them ate without complaint.
Cat sighed, a soft sound I wondered if anyone but Pietr was meant to hear. Then with a growl she proclaimed, “You disgust me, Pietr Andreiovich Rusakova!” She slammed her tray into his, sending food flying.
“Da?” Pietr snapped, pounding his fist on the table so the trays shook and spattered. “Well, you are an absolute bitch!”
Cat’s eyes flared, but I saw humor in their depths.
“Hey!” Amy griped, their food dappling her tray.
“Pietr,” Sarah said in a tone of definite warning. “Apologize to your sister.”
“I don’t want an apology from that flea-bitten dog,” Cat proclaimed, slamming her milk down with such force it gushed out the container’s top like a frothy Vesuvius.
Sarah was drenched.
Cat barely hid her glee.
Across the cafeteria I saw Max itching to join in. He just needed a reason to disentangle himself from his female flock.
Why not?
“You’re all horrible!” I declared. “Especially that brother of yours—Max! Nothing but a common cur!” Huh. When else would that sentence work so fittingly against someone? I grabbed something off of Cat’s tray (I wasn’t going to waste my food) and hurled it at Pietr.
Whatever it was slapped wetly onto his T-shirt. Brown. Well, brown-ish. Ew.
But, God. It was satisfying, seeing the look on his face.
Sophia backed away from the table, watching the food fight grow (and narrowly missing becoming collateral damage).
“Cur?!” Max growled, suddenly in the aisle. He plucked something off of Pietr’s tray and hurled it, his eyes bright, mouth curled so wickedly at one corner the end of his lips nearly touched his eye.
I felt the impact as a glob of mystery meat smeared across my face.
Cat twitched, grabbed a napkin in one hand and the back of my neck in the other. “Wipe that look right off your face,” she snarled, swiping the offensive goo away from my mouth and nose with a heavy hand as she shot a warning look at Max.
A food fight and exfoliation. Not what I’d imagined as a suitable combination any day.
I snagged a fistful of Cat’s hair and wrestled her to below table level. She totally let me do it.
“What the—?” I asked, seeing peas fly overhead.
“There is something in the food. A strange scent.”
“Coriander?” I asked. “That sets me off.”
She grinned. “Nyet. Something—I don’t know—but it seems strange, as if a foreign compound was introduced.”
“Like a drug?”
“I can’t be sure. But I would not eat the cafeteria food.”
“Amen.”
There was an earsplitting whistle.
Coach Mac was on the scene. A few more globs of food flew, and the whistle blasted again.
“Cease and desist!” Perlson’s voice reverberated through his megaphone. “We will not have such behavior at Junction High!”
There was a smattering of laughter.
He redoubled his efforts. “Our Junction Jackrabbits do not behave this way. We will determine who started this and they will receive the appropriate punishment.”
Cat sat up, rolling her eyes.
Max settled beside me, draping his arm across my shoulders, grinning at Pietr possessively. Sly as the Devil himself. “Hey, Red,” he acknowledged Amy. “You’re rockin’ that T-shirt.”
“The name’s Amy, cur,” she said, something more than defiance lighting her eyes.
Marvin grinned at the verbal slap and Max snorted.
As Sarah worked on cleaning him up, Pietr resumed watching the clock.
Derek breezed over, perfectly clean. Where the heck had he been to miss the barrage?
“Jessica,” he said, clearly ignoring Max as he sprawled across me. “May I speak to you, please?”
“Umm…”
Max yawned and released me, making it clear that Derek was no threat. Cat watched my face and although Pietr kept his eyes on the clock, his fingers began to tap the table.
“Sure.” I slid into the aisle.
Derek slipped his arm around my waist. “Walk with me.”
I did.
“Look, Jessica. I really like you. You know that. But I’m starting to think the Rusakovas are a bad influence on you. They start a lot of stuff. You’re a good girl, and I don’t want to see you falling in with the wrong crowd.”
I snorted. “Derek, you don’t know me as well as you think.” I wrote a scathing anti-jock article for the school paper. I’m moonstruck over a teenage werewolf who’s probably going to do the horizontal mambo with my psycho best friend. I’ve broken into a church and killed a mobster in self-defense. And my grade point average has fallen into C territory. “I’m not as good as you think I am. Life around me—it’s not normal. Seriously.”
He grinned, dimples so deep they must’ve jabbed into his jawbone. “You’re nothing I can’t handle.” Challenge glinted in his eyes. “You’re not as bad as you think,” he whispered, backing me against a wall, arms boldly bracketing my body. “And if you want to be bad, you can certainly be bad with me.”
I shuddered, watching his pupils enlarge, eyes darkening just before he closed them and pressed his mouth against mine, silencing my protest.
Someone cleared their throat and Derek pulled back from me, fingers tight on my upper arm as he swung around to see who dared interrupt. My eyes opened and I saw Amy and Pietr standing across the hallway, students rushing between us, released from the cafeteria.
Amy glared at Derek with all the venom she had, hands balled into fists by her hips. She hadn’t had a problem with me liking Derek until Pietr showed up. It seemed he’d changed everything.
Pietr was staring.… I blinked. At my pendant.
“What are you looking at?” Derek flared, his gaze jumping from Pietr’s daring eyes to my neckline. “Wait,” he commanded as I moved to tuck the amber heart back beneath my collar. My fingers twitched and paused. I looked at Pietr.
Pietr’s eyes slid to Derek’s—cool and uncaring.
“Is this yours?” Derek snarled, slipping his hand between the pendant and my collarbone, throwing the words at Pietr.
Pietr watched him, still as stone.
Derek shook my arm, and I faced him. “This is his leash—his choke chain. You’re smarter than wearing some necklace he gave you while he’s dating Sarah.”
I looked down.
“Aren’t you? Dammit!” There was a snap and I gasped, feeling the slender chain give way under Derek’s grip. He hurled the pendant at Pietr.
In one fluid move Pietr had the pendant—my heart—in his hand, his eyes never leaving Derek’s incensed face.
“Get this through your thick skull, Rusakova. She’s not yours. Not anymore.”
My stomach knotted, my chest so tight it was hard to breathe.
With a growl, Dere
k towed me away.
Pietr finally really watched me.
Leaving.
Derek deposited me at my next class. I fought the whole period to concentrate on anything but the fact that Derek had achieved what Pietr had wanted.
Derek had made my split with Pietr undeniably clear.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
In social studies class the next day Pietr sat in the back of the room instead of the spot beside me in the front row. Derek took the empty seat, saying he thought his grades would improve if he sat closer to the teacher and someone as smart as me.
I wondered what that implied about the intelligence of our football team members since I was only pulling B’s and C’s at best and he originally sat with them.
Derek took ample notes throughout class, even circling a phrase Mr. Miles repeated twice that I somehow overlooked. I was usually more together in Mr. Miles’s class, but sitting beside Derek was like sitting beside the sun. I couldn’t help noticing how he shined.
When the bell signaled the end of class Pietr brushed between Derek’s desk and mine, heading straight for Mr. Miles. I tried not to eavesdrop, but the temptation was too great. Slowly I put away my pen. My pencil. My notebook. My textbook. My ears perked for any bit of their conversation.
My resolve to establish a new normal excluding Pietr had wavered almost as soon as I’d caught sight of him again. Stupid heart. Stupid girl.
“I do not change service learning assignments without need, Mr. Rusakova.” Mr. Miles looked grave.
Change his service learning assignment? My throat constricted. Sure, Pietr and I didn’t actually talk during service learning anymore, but it was still better to have him nearby than not. Most of the time. When it didn’t hurt me.
Oh, hell.
Pietr glanced over his shoulder at me, peeved I was still not out the door. Derek’s buddies passed by, slapping him on the back, jostling and joking with him. Each tried in his own way to coax Derek away with them—away from me.
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