by Kelly Oram
Mrs. Wilson surprised me by smiling instead of frowning. It was a smile full of pity. “Actually, Grace, I know this isn’t like you, so I’m sending you to the guidance counselor instead of detention.”
Mrs. Wilson held out a slip of paper to me and then asked for a volunteer to help me with my books and make sure I got there safely. One guess who my escort was.
“I’m sorry, Grace,” Ethan apologized once we were in the empty hall.
“Sorry for knocking me over, or sorry for getting mad at me because I’m the only girl in this school that doesn’t worship you?”
Surprisingly, it was getting easier to argue with Ethan. Probably because he made me so mad.
“Both,” Ethan mumbled. “Except I wasn’t mad at you, I was just frustrated. You make it very difficult to help you.”
“There’s an easy solution to that,” I said.
“I can’t just leave you alone. There’s something seriously wrong with you. You haven’t been yourself for about a month now, and you’re getting worse.”
“That’s not…” He was dead on. I was so shocked I couldn’t string a whole sentence together. “I—I’m fine.”
“You don’t have to lie to me. I know you’re not all right. I can feel it.”
“What?” I gasped.
Ethan looked as startled as I was by his choice of words. “I mean I can see it,” he said quickly. “It’s obvious. Even Mrs. Wilson sees it, or I’d be taking you to the principal’s office right now.” Ethan stopped walking and stared at me with determined, searching eyes. “Tell me what’s going on with you, Grace.”
“I—I—” My face burned as Ethan waited for me to spill all my private struggles to him. Like I needed that! I was already a pathetic mess in his mind. Did he really need to know what my home life was like, too? “I’m sorry, Ethan. I’m just not comfortable talking about this with you.”
Ethan looked up at the door we now stood in front of and sighed, suddenly as frustrated with me as he’d been before class. “You should take this visit seriously,” he told me. He headed back to class without so much as a good-bye.
. . . . .
Lunch was half over by the time Dr. Carroll let me escape the guidance office. He wasn’t so bad, I guess. I mean, at least he’s a real psychiatrist and not some hack sports nut who needed a position at the school in order to coach the volleyball team or whatever. (Atherton Prep Academy spares no expense.) It was nice to talk to him, though I couldn’t exactly take him seriously like Ethan suggested when he’d spent half the interview asking if the White House would be needing a full-time psychiatrist on staff, and did I want to take a copy of his résumé with me?
I was tempted to just go straight to my pre-calc class, but Cynthia and I didn’t have any more classes together the rest of the day. I knew she would kill me if I didn’t come find her first, so I headed to the cafeteria.
I expected to find Cynthia with her family. She has seven brothers and no sisters. They’re a very close, protective family, but she only hangs out with them when I’m not around. She talks about them sometimes, but we never hang out with them, and I mean never. Cynthia and I have been friends for over a year now, and I’ve never even been over to her house.
She says she keeps us separate because she doesn’t want any of them realizing how awesome I am and stealing me away from her, but I think she just needs a break from all the testosterone. She may be an overwhelming ball of energy, but her brothers make her look like a church mouse.
I was still about five or six feet away from them when I saw that Cynthia wasn’t there. I tried to escape unnoticed, but the second I turned my back on them their laughter stopped.
“Leaving so soon, Grace?”
Cynthia’s brothers were very intimidating—even the younger ones. They were always laughing and goofing off, but were somehow still dangerous. Most people avoided them. I’ve certainly never complained about Cynthia’s desire to keep us apart.
The one who’d spoken to me was the oldest—a senior named Preston. Preston was definitely the scariest of the group. The Layton brothers didn’t respect any authority at school except for his. I didn’t know a lot about him, but I knew it wasn’t good to have his attention.
I took a breath, trying to calm myself, and then turned to face him with the best fake smile I could manage. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you guys. I was just looking for Cynthia.”
There were four of them present at the moment—the younger three still ate lunch in the early shift with the little kids—and all of them except Preston were holding back laughter. My smile wasn’t fooling anyone. I was scared of them and they knew it. They enjoyed it.
Preston watched me through narrowed eyes, even though the smile never left his face. “Cynthia’s not here at the moment.”
“Yeah, I can see that. Like I said, I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I guess I’ll try the library or something.”
The second I turned my back on them, I was whisked off my feet into a strong pair of arms. The only reason I didn’t have a heart attack was because the one who had me cradled against his chest momentarily was Cynthia’s twin, Caleb. He still scared me to death, but of the bunch he frightened me the least because I knew he and Cynthia were very close.
“You didn’t think we’d let you get away that easily, did you?” he asked as he sat back down at the lunch table with me clamped tightly in his arms. He sounded playful but had an edge in his voice that made my anxiety spike.
I tried to scramble away, mortified that he was holding me in his lap, but he refused to let me. All of them laughed as they watched me struggle.
“What’s the rush, Disgrace?” Cynthia’s brother Peter asked. Peter was only a year younger than Cynthia, Caleb, and me—and he was by far the most obnoxious.
“Yeah,” the youngest of the big kids, thirteen-year-old Brett, agreed. “You just got here. Stay and play with us for a minute.”
“Come on, you guys. Let me go, please? Cynthia wanted me to find her before lunch is over.” My voice was shaking now despite my best efforts.
“Cyn’s just going to have to deal,” Caleb said. “Our mom always taught us to share, and our sister needs the practice.”
“Cynthia’s not usually so protective of her playthings,” Preston said. “Which makes me wonder if maybe her best friend isn’t as disgraceful as she wants people to believe.”
“You hiding something from us, Disgrace?” Peter asked.
“I—I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.
Suddenly I felt Caleb’s lips against my ear. “What does Cyn think is so special about you, Gracie?” he whispered.
I couldn’t help the way I stiffened. Caleb felt me tense up and chuckled. Then, probably just to be cruel, he brushed the side of his face against mine and inhaled deeply. I gasped out of fear, but the minute our skin touched Caleb gasped, too—and it wasn’t because he was afraid.
He held his face against mine for a long time, and when he finally pulled back he and all of his brothers sat in silence shooting each other distressed looks. The tension was so thick I couldn’t breathe.
I started to panic, so Caleb put his hand to my cheek and said, “Relax, little Gracie,” twisting my head up to meet his gaze.
Caleb was filled with complete wonder. I was shocked because for the first time since I’d met him, his smile was not antagonistic. He was actually being sincere when he said, “There really is something special about you, isn’t there?”
Caleb still hadn’t taken his hand away from my cheek and I started to blush. He felt so warm and as scared and as shocked as I was, there was something in his touch that was inexplicably comforting. Miraculously, I did what he told me to: I relaxed. I let myself melt into his embrace.
“So, Grace,” Preston said, startling me back to reality. I jumped so severely that Caleb had to readjust me on his lap. He seemed strangely reluctant to take his hand away from my face. When he finally did have to break our connection, h
e heaved a small sigh. I couldn’t understand it.
“Caleb said you put on a bit of a show in government today,” Preston went on.
I blushed horribly and sent them all into fits of laughter. The younger three all congratulated me—apparently I’d earned a tiny bit of respect with my outburst—but Preston continued to study me. When he spoke again, the laughter around me died. “I hope our dear sister’s not being a bad influence on you?”
“What?” I gasped, startled by the graveness in his tone. “Of course not. If anything, Cynthia keeps me out of trouble,” I promised. Not exactly the truth, but I got the impression that Cynthia would be in the doghouse if her brothers thought she had anything to do with my bad behavior.
“Good,” Preston said, once he’d decided that he believed me. “Wouldn’t want our little fireball of a sister causing you problems with your dad.”
Yeah right. I didn’t need Cynthia’s help to have problems with my father.
“It would be very bad for us all if he thought she was a bad influence and stopped letting you spend time with her.”
“Yeah,” Peter said. “She used to be a raging bitch before you came along.”
The guys all laughed, which was not surprising, but I was shocked when I joined them. “I don’t doubt it,” I joked, delighted by my curiously good mood. “I can only imagine what Cynthia was like before she had me to keep her sane.”
Everyone was so shocked to see me lightening up that they stopped laughing. It was awkward enough that I clammed up again, my good mood gone. “You don’t have to worry,” I mumbled, blushing yet again. “My dad likes Cynthia a lot better than he likes me. I’m pretty sure he’d swap us if he could.”
“Tell him he’s got a deal,” Caleb said, tightening his grip on me. “He can keep her if I can keep you.”
I had no idea what was going on. Caleb was suddenly flirting with me, and none of his brothers were objecting or even surprised. Not that I have no self-esteem, but I’m just not that awesome. There’s hard to get, then there’s out of your league, then there’s don’t-even-bother-to-dream-about-it, and then there’s Caleb.
The Layton brothers, even the thirteen-year-old, are all good-looking, athletically gifted guys who despite their intimidation factor could have basically any girl they wanted. I wouldn’t say any of them are quite up to Ethan Dunn’s god-like status, but they’re a very close second. They shouldn’t be paying any attention to me. In fact, they should probably be insulted that their sister stoops so low as to be my friend.
I don’t know what happened to turn everyone’s attitudes so suddenly, but something had happened. Something not natural. My inner warning bells were going off again. I needed to get out of there.
“Um, Caleb? That’s very sweet and all, but I really need to go now,” I said, cursing the way my voice was shaking.
He ignored me. “What’s the deal with you and Dunn?”
I forgot about needing to leave. “Ethan?” I asked, startled.
“Yeah, are you spoken for or what?”
I couldn’t believe he was asking me this. My cheeks were burning up and I couldn’t manage to find any words to explain, but as I shook my head Cynthia stalked up to the table. “Damn right she’s spoken for!” she demanded. “She’s mine!”
“Oh, come on,” Peter said. “Let the guy make his move.”
“Absolutely not! Caleb, give me my best friend back right now!”
Cynthia seriously looked like she was going to start a brawl with all of her brothers if Caleb didn’t let me go. She also looked enraged enough that she probably could have taken them.
“Lighten up, Cyn.” Preston’s voice brought a tense silence over the group. It was casual and yet a warning at the same time. “She came to see us. And she’s enjoying herself. Aren’t you, Gracie?” He turned his sharp gaze on me and gave me a smile that made me scared to deny it.
I blushed because I actually had been enjoying myself, but nobody noticed my embarrassment. They were all watching Cynthia. I swear to you, that girl was so angry her body trembled and she growled at Preston.
The brothers all exchanged startled looks and Caleb finally released his grip on me. He couldn’t have been that scared of Cynthia, though, because as he pushed me to my one good foot and handed me my crutches he still said, “You and me, Grace. At least give it some thought.”
“What the hell were you doing with my brothers?” Cynthia hissed after we were safely on the opposite side of the cafeteria. “Haven’t I warned you about them like a bazillion times?”
“I—I was just trying to find you. I didn’t know they’d hold me hostage. Where were you?”
Cynthia dropped her anger immediately and shrugged. “Just talking with a friend.”
I frowned. That wasn’t like her at all. I thought for sure she’d have a tantrum and warn me off her brothers through the rest of the week. “What friend?” I asked, unable to hide the suspicion in my voice.
“Just a friend. I didn’t think you’d be back before lunch was over. Anyway, sorry to subject you to the torture that is my family. Did Caleb seriously just ask you out?”
I let the topic change slide for the moment. “Yes. What was that about, anyway? Was he actually serious?”
“I don’t know, but can we please, please, please not talk about it? The thought of you and Caleb cuddling and sticking your tongues in each other’s mouths is just…” Cynthia shivered in disgust.
“All right. Not another word,” I promised, even though that visual didn’t exactly horrify me the way it did her. Terrify me, yes, but repulse me? Not even a little.
“So what did Dr. Carroll have to say?”
“You mean besides asking me to get him a job with my father? Apparently I’m lashing out because I’m stressed about the election, and I’ve been suppressing my feelings.”
Cynthia snorted. “Gee, you think?”
“Oh, and I’m also depressed. He wrote me a prescription. My dad will just love that. I’m going to throw it away. The media would have a field day with my being on antidepressants.”
Cynthia sighed again. “Grace, I think you should listen to Dr. Carroll.”
“What?”
“You have to admit there’s something up with you lately. First you go off on Ethan, then your dad this morning, and now today in class?”
It was my turn to sigh. “I don’t know what’s going on with me. I guess I’m just sick of it all, you know? I hate my life. I hate everyone in it except you. Ethan drives me crazy, and you’re right about my dad. He sucks as a parent. I used to be able to ignore it all, but lately I can’t. I feel like something’s missing. My life is completely empty.”
Cynthia thought about it for a minute and then said, “You know what you need?”
I held up my prescription. “A daily dose of Paxil?”
“No. A boyfriend. A really hot and incredibly funny boyfriend to keep you distracted.”
I couldn’t help sneaking a glance back at Cynthia’s brothers. They were all still watching us, and all four of them grinned at me. For a brief instant my eyes met Preston’s, and then Caleb pulled my gaze when he blew me a kiss.
“Not exactly the person I was talking about,” Cynthia grumbled.
“Sorry.” I snapped my attention back to my best friend. “It’s a great theory, but, uh, don’t you think I’d have a boyfriend already if I could?”
“But what about—”
“Cynthia, if you say Ethan Dunn I swear—”
“Grace, what the hell? You went off on him and all it did was make him try harder. I’m telling you, the guy is crazy about you.”
“Ugh.” It was hopeless. We’d been having this argument since we met and Cynthia was never going to give up. “Forget the boyfriend. Maybe what I really need is to develop an obsession for Edgar Allan Poe and start wearing all black.”
“Goth Gracie. Awesome. We’ll go shopping for fishnets and choke collars.”
“What about fishnets and choke collars
?”
Cynthia and I both jumped at the interruption. Cynthia was pissed, but I was just glad it wasn’t Ethan.
“What do you want, Caleb?”
“Down, girl!” Caleb said to Cynthia and then smiled at me. “I just noticed that Grace’s usual escort isn’t here, and since we both have math next I thought I’d help her get from here to there without killing herself.”
I frowned at Cynthia and glanced around the cafeteria. Sure enough, Ethan was nowhere to be seen. When he never showed in math, I knew something was up. Ethan hadn’t missed a single class in the entire six years I’d known him.
After class I tracked down Cynthia and tried to ask her if she knew what was up. She dodged my questions the way she’d dodged me when I asked her where she had been during lunch. Then I tried to ask her more about Andrew and she freaked out that I’d even mentioned his name. It was so not like her that I started to get a sick feeling in my stomach.
By the time I was halfway though the last class of my day—of which Ethan was, again, conspicuously absent from—I had a really bad feeling that something was terribly wrong. I was also sure that my best friend knew what it was and was keeping it from me.
There was only one thing I could think of to do, and I really didn’t want to do it. But I did want answers, and it was clear Cynthia wasn’t going to be any help. With only fifteen minutes left in the school day, I claimed my leg hurt and asked for a hall pass—but instead of going to the nurse, I went to the library.
. . . . .
Preston Layton was sitting at the same table I always saw him at on the few occasions my English lit class spent the hour in the library. He was alone at his table reading a thick book while the other kids with independent study were clumped in small groups whispering and flirting with one another.
He’d always been a bit of a loner, even though by rights he shouldn’t have been. He was gorgeous. Not pretty like Ethan, though—he was more of a rugged handsome. Whereas Ethan had a baby face and would probably be able to pass for a high school student until he was thirty, Preston looked as if he should have graduated years ago. He had the muscles of a professional weightlifter and the short-cropped hair of a soldier. If he weren’t so intimidating, he’d have the girls flocking to him like seagulls.