by MV Ellis
My blood instantly does triple-speed circuits around my body, heating me from head to toe and setting my core on fire. Why do I kick into tenth gear when she’s around? It’s like just by her presence her body turbocharges mine.
Zeph slowly lets go of my collar and follows my gaze. He freezes for another extended moment, and everyone else seems to hold their breath, waiting for his next move. Including Blake Allen. He says and does nothing, and, returning his focus to me, gives me the death stare to end all death stares.
“I’m warning you. Watch your fucking step.” The words hang heavily and ominously in the air, and still nobody breathes as we watch Zeph huff out of the room, leaving half his lunch uneaten.
Chapter 8
Thunder
* * *
The next day we’re summoned with four surly words.
ZEPH: The Abyss. After classes.
Right away I know what it’s about, although I haven’t had time to grill Ty for more details following the showdown in the lunchroom yesterday. Well, that’s not strictly true. I tried to catch up with him, but I’m pretty sure he was avoiding me, no doubt because Zeph wanted him to.
I may not have known Zeph and Tyce for as long as they’ve known each other, or be as tight as they are, but I can read them both pretty well, together and apart—especially Tyce. Definitely well enough to know that despite Tyce’s efforts to play down or make light of the situation, something big is going down with the two of them.
Whatever it is, I’d say it’s to do with the new girl, if I was to make an educated guess. Both guys have been on edge since she showed up. I expect a certain level of caginess and unpredictability from Zeph; it just comes with the territory—enigma is part of his personal brand.
But with Tyce and me, things are different, or at least, they were, and despite being Zeph’s best friend and right hand man, he’s always been on the level with me, possibly slightly stretching the boundaries of his friendship with Zeph to do so. However, where he used to open up to me, and with me, he now seems to be shutting down and shutting me out. Again.
I head into the common room, aka The Abyss, to find Zeph and Tyce already there, and the atmosphere so thick I could cut it with a hacksaw. Zeph is pacing the place like a demented circus bear, while Tyce sits in one of the easy chairs, feet up on the edge of the coffee table, not moving a muscle. Shit.
I look back and forth between the two of them, waiting for one or other to make eye contact, but neither does. Whatever it is, it’s serious.
“So, cat got both your tongues, huh?” I motion between the two of them grinning. I have no idea what the drama is, and until I do, I’m determined to keep smiling. I get a scowl from Tyce, in return, and not even a glance in my direction from Zeph. Looks like we’re in for a fun time. “Alright. Imma take that as yes, then. He okay?” I nod my chin in Zeph’s direction.
Tyce rolls his eyes and shrugs, giving me a “you know how it goes,” look. I totally know, and sometimes wonder how he survives life in the frontline with Zeph. I’m not sure I could handle the full force of him, all day, every day, the way Tyce does. I don’t have the patience for it.
I throw myself into the chair directly opposite Tyce, and mirror his easy stance, bending one leg and resting the other ankle on top of my knee, then drape my arm over the back cushion. Tyce raises a questioning eyebrow, and I do the same in response. For a moment, neither of us moves, we just stare each other out, but then Tyce winks, slowly and deliberately.
That fucking wink—I swear to God, it could sink ships and win wars. As it is, it sends tidal waves of anger rippling through my body, along with the strong urge to make sure Tyce never winks at anyone like that again, least of all me.
Back in the real world, I do nothing in return, just continue to stare him down.
“What the fuck are you two doing? Eye fucking? Get a goddamned room.” I wasn’t aware of Zeph turning his attention to us until his tense voice cuts through the loaded silence, pulling me out of my trance-like state. The last I was aware, he was still pacing the antique parquet floor as though he could walk his problems off. I should have known he would notice, though. Nothing gets past him.
“Hey hey!” Just as I’m beginning to wonder where the hell they are, one of the twins bounds into the room, closely followed by the other.
Even though I’ve known them a while, it can still be difficult to tell them apart at times, but I know it’s Lennon, because I remember that he hasn’t been wearing his blazer all day and is sporting rolled up shirt-sleeves, whereas the last time I saw him, Jagger was in full uniform.
Just to be sure, I glance down at his hand, and see the small birthmark that sets Lennon apart from Jagger.
“What was the SOS for?” Jagger immediately interrupts his brother, and Zeph shoots him a look that suggests he wishes a slow and painful end, not only on Jags, but on his entire extended family. “Wait, wait, don’t tell me. I’m guessing it’s the new girl…the stupidly hot one who looks as serious as a case of the clap, and who Tyce says you have a massive boner for?” he asks, throwing himself down in the easy chair next to mine, apparently completely oblivious to how close he’s coming to wiping out an entire generation, and more, of his family.
“What’s her name again?” He pulls one hand away from the arm of the chair and snaps his fingers fake impatiently.
Tyce rolls his eyes. “Blake Allen. Like you don’t know. She’s all anyone’s talked about all day, male or female. The Heels Up twins are trying to claim her as one of their own, but I think they need to get their eyes or their brains tested, or maybe both. She’s leagues ahead of them without even trying.
Lennon turns his attention to Zeph as he sits down on the arm of the same chair Jagger is sitting on. “Okay, so she’s beautiful, and different from the usual St. J’s offering, but I still don’t get why she’s a source of so much tension in this room. Did she kick you in the balls and steal your lunch money, or something?”
I try hard not to laugh and fail miserably, almost choking while trying to stifle the snicker rising in my chest. Both Zeph and Tyce look at me as though they want to set fire to my pubes. I avoid making eye contact with Zeph and find myself locked in another staring match with Tyce, until I break the spell. I can’t help it; a shit-eating grin just about tears my face apart as I stick out my tongue and waggle it back and forth. Tyce flips me the bird, and we’re done.
I’m playing with fire, and I know it. Zeph is about half a heartbeat away from ripping my tongue from my head and throwing it into the river that runs behind the school. Instead, as I dare to look tentatively his way, he gives me one final warning glare.
“No, she didn’t kick me in the nuts, or anywhere for that matter. And contrary to what Tyce would have you believe, I definitely do not have a boner for her.”
“Because…?” I jump back into the conversation now. It’s a fair question. If he’s going to stand there in front of us and claim he doesn’t find her attractive, then there really must be a story there, because he’s just about the only guy in the school who doesn’t—even the gay guys.
“Because I want her gone. Jesus, keep up. That much should have been obvious to you from our conversation in the cafeteria.”
“It was, and it’s not that I’m not following, I just don’t really get it.” I don’t. Blake Allen is not only fresh meat, and a break from the norm, but she’s also the hottest thing to happen to St. Joe’s in a long time.
“What’s not to get? She’s trouble, and I want her to be history.”
“But really, what has she done for you to want her out so bad, except exist?” That’s the part that makes no sense. I have come to expect a level of irrationality from Zeph, but his behavior with Blake tops even his usual antics. Taking a total dislike to someone on sight is too far south of crazy, even for him.
“Well…” Tyce starts, because clearly we’re not about to get any sense out of Zeph. “First she reminds him a little of—”
“You say he
r name, and I will punch your face in so bad, the only way they’ll be able to identify your corpse is by your dental records and your sneakers.” He kicks at Tyce’s tennis shoes to emphasize his point.
“Jesus! Don’t do that, you fucking asshole.” Tyce holds his ground, staring Zeph out. They’ve known each other long enough, and well enough, that Tyce can read when his best friend is seriously dangerous, versus when he’s just letting off steam. I can pick it a lot of the time, but not always, and sometimes his mood flips completely throw me. “Calm your fucking farm.”
I look at Tyce and do the eyebrow thing again. He sits up a little straighter and silently mouths “Aster.”
Aster.
Zeph’s sister. Oh shit. I didn’t think about it before, but I guess if I screw my eyes together, and squint, she’d look a little like her. Not heaps, but some, but I guess it’s more about what that represents than about Blake herself. After all, it’s not her fault that she reminds someone she doesn’t know of something they’d rather forget.
“Okay, so she reminds you of something you don’t want to be reminded of, but that’s not a choice she made. And other than that, she seems cool to me. You can’t just run her out of the school because you don’t like her face,” Tyce informs him.
“I didn’t say I don’t like her face. Anyway, what did you mean by that?” Zeph shoots Tyce another death look, like he shat in his bed. But that was one time, and Tyce was lit to the point of semi-consciousness, and ended up having his stomach pumped, so in my book, it doesn’t even really count.
“By what? You don’t like her face? Isn’t it obvious.”
“Not that, you fucking dick.” Now Zeph is seriously pissed. Even I can see that. Before, not so much.
“What, the part about not driving her out of sch—” Zeph glares at Tyce so hard, I almost want to intervene and tell Ty to stop poking the bear, but I don’t. The only thing more stupid than Tyce intentionally goading his best friend for sport, is anyone needlessly putting themselves in the middle of their shit, and I’m not that guy. They have their own dynamic that nobody else really understands, and despite my personal feelings on the matter, I know better than to interfere in it, at least, not publicly.
“Oh that,” Tyce continues like he didn’t know what he was doing in pissing Zeph off. “Well, it’s true. What can I say? She seems cool. I heard she’s going to be rooming with that chick Geneva, who I kinda like too. She doesn’t seem to give a fuck about what anyone thinks, not even the out-there twins, or Jazzy, or any of those other flaky girls. She does her own thing regardless. Plus, she’s definitely hot.
“Amen to that.” Lennon is back in the conversation after hanging back for a while, carefully observing the interaction between the three of us.
“Double amen. She’s hotter than Hades on the holidays.” Jagger throws in, backing up his brother, like he always does. “They both are. Really fucking hot, actually. In fact, I wouldn’t mind being the salami in a sandwich between those two. I’ll provide the mayo.”
The three of us stare at the two of them, and they both shrug, as though to say whatever.
“Wait a minute, what did you mean when you said you don’t hate her face?” Tyce narrows his eyes, watching Zeph carefully. In return, Zeph watches Tyce watching him, and the shutters immediately come down behind his eyes. I swear he hates the fact that Tyce can read him so well, especially given he’s one of the few people who can.
“I don’t hate her face. Simple as that.”
“Hahahahahaha.” Tyce clutches at his chest in mock heart-attack mode. “Now I know there’s something there, because nothing with you is ever simple. Ever. So if you don’t hate her face, you…?” Tyce prompts, looking at Zeph expectantly, with one eyebrow cocked, clearly expecting him to complete the sentence and/or thought.
My gut is telling me that it will be an icy cold day in hell before that ever happens. True to form, his best friend leaves him out to dry. “Like her face?” Tyce puts himself out of his misery, finishing the sentence himself.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“So, you like her face, but you still want her gone, because... reasons.” I jump in to support Tyce.
“I don’t like her face, or any other part of her. And I have a valid reason, and Ty fucking knows it, so I don’t know why he’s now trying to make me out to be some irrational crazy person. You know I think she has something to do with the videos.”
“Which makes you a fucking irrational crazy person, because there isn’t a bee’s-dick-sized sliver of evidence or proof to support that out-there theory.”
“Sorry, but what the fuck is going on right now?” Lennon looks and sounds as lost as I feel, as he addresses me.
“Dude, if I had a clue, you know I’d tell you, because it doesn’t look like either of these two are about to.”
Zeph sighs big, and explains, “I want her gone because I think she’s blackmailing me. Here, look at this.” He hands me his phone as he speaks. “I waited until today to tell you all”—he motions to the three of us—“because I wanted to get my head straight and figure out what to do. Now I’ve taken the time to work shit out, think I have the perfect plan to take her down, but I’m gonna need your help.”
Chapter 9
Blake
* * *
It turns out the dizzy twins aren’t the only ones confused as to whether I’m Allen Blake, or Blake Allen, and whether I have a dick or not. Although my details are correct in the school’s main records and database—with my name in the right order, and my gender recorded as female—somehow when the information was carried across the rest of the school’s systems, I morphed from Blake to Allen, and changed sex accordingly.
That explains why Trinity and Divinity had the wrong information when they welcomed me, and also why I was assigned a room on the boys’ floor of Lourdes House on my first night. Once the mistake had become obvious—partly due to the twins—I was told to report back to school administration so that they could fix the issue.
They were very apologetic and assured me that they would rectify the situation as soon as possible, but it would require a lot of admin and a little time to fix, so the best solution was for me to sleep in the room that had already been assigned to me just for the first night, and they would have it fixed and a new room ready on one of the girls floors for me by the end of the next day.
Luckily, the room on the boys’ floor wasn’t a shared room, which, as a scholarship student, is all I am entitled to, even on only a partial scholarship. Even luckier, there were no boys’ shared rooms available at the time, so I had the room to myself. It would have made for an interesting first night, otherwise.
I wasn’t exactly thrilled to spend the night on the boys’ floor, but, on the other hand, I figured that in the grand scheme of things it was no big deal, as it wasn’t like I was having to share a room with guys, just communal areas.
The school administrators told me that most people have suites with bathrooms built in—because they are all richer than God, and won’t stoop to sharing—so there wouldn’t be very many other people in the public bathrooms, if anyone at all. However, they also advised that for my own safety and peace of mind, I should go up or down a level to use one of the girls’ bathrooms, just to be sure.
That was how I came to be wandering my floor and accidentally walked into Mr. Ego’s room in the first place. It was a pretty easy mistake to make, considering that I’d been at the school no more than a couple of hours. Not only that, but with the doors closed, all the rooms pretty much looked the same to me as I roamed the halls thinking I had reached my new temporary abode.
It was a pretty easy, and understandable, mistake to make. That said, if I’d looked at the number on the door, that would have been a sure-fire clue that I was in the wrong place, so that was my bad.
Even still, as far as I’m concerned, the “crime” doesn’t fit the way he bawled me out then, and it’s definitely way
over the top for the way he treated me like a leper today. Jeez, it’s not like I was there trying to look at his junk, or steal all his precious shit. Nor is it like I was in any way rude or confrontational with him. In fact, knowing I’d made a mistake, I’d been ready with nothing but apologies, until he came out the gate swinging with death stares and insults.
Now he’s drawn the battle lines, I‘m just as ready to throw down as he clearly is, even though I have no idea why we’re even fighting. I guess I can thank my upbringing for that. Where I’m from, if you stand around asking questions while you try to figure out what the hell is going on, it’s a sure-fire way to end up dead. It’s a case of defend yourself first, ask questions later, to survive.
True to their word, before the end of a pretty shitty first day of classes, I’m called to the admin office again and given details of my new room. It’s a shared dorm this time, and when I look down at the piece of paper they handed me, telling me who I’ll be rooming with, the name sounds vaguely familiar, maybe from roll call in some of my classes, but I can’t recall a face to go with the name—Geneva Hall.
I sigh loudly and thank the administrator. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see who I’m going to be basically living with for the rest of the year, but I can’t help but feel apprehensive.
I’ve never attended a boarding school before, obviously, and as an only child, I’ve never even shared a bedroom with a sibling, let alone spent months on end in the same space as a stranger. Not only do I not know what to expect, but I’m fearing the worst and dreading it. I just hope this Geneva person isn’t like the crazy twins, or else it’s going to be a very long school year.
My new room is in the same block as before, and when I make it there, following the instructions given to me at the office, it’s pretty much directly above my original room. I knock on the door and wait for a response. It never comes. Instead, the door is wrenched open so hard it bangs against the wall, and I’m enveloped in a bear hug before I have a chance to introduce or explain myself.