Vixen (The Fox and Hound Book 1)

by Catherine Labadie

  That’s a lot of pressure on Duncan, I think, imagining how he’ll respond once I explain this plan to him. My brothers will look forward to the dinner at Hayley’s, since the Manchester family has always been our version of extended relatives, but Duncan would be walking into a situation where he has to be under the close scrutiny of half-breeds as a M-DNA person himself.

  I think he can do it, but I don’t know how psyched he’ll be for the whole event.

  “Okay,” I say at last. “Let’s do it…and see if you can get your mom to make some banana pudding.”

  “Done, and done,” Hayley says, the volume of her voice rising with her excitement again. “The best part of this plan is that I get to see you in a couple days, and I get to meet your first boyfriend before anyone at your

  school does.”

  School…

  “That’s a whole different breed,” I say, imagining the general student body and faculty reactions if Duncan and I started dating publicly. It’s kind of silly that one high school couple would even matter in the grand scheme of things, I muse.

  “Well…we don’t need to deal with that problem yet,” Hayley hurries to soothe me. “Just keep your head down as much as possible, don’t let your friends guilt you into stuff you don’t want to do, get Morgan and Lyle to realize they are meant to be, and wait everything out until the vote in a couple weeks. You can do it.”

  “Hope so,” I sigh. I’d love to keep talking to Hayley, but responsibilities like homework and dinner preparation call me away. “Listen, I have to go—”

  “I know,” Hayley sighs too; I hear a breeze blow past the speaker of her phone as she walks around outside. “I have to go too. My dad’s work dinner is tonight, and I have to help around the house.”

  We say our mutual goodbyes and I end the call by tapping my nail on the screen of my SMARTcall. I have my stylus in my hand to continue my homework, but a few minutes of staring at one problem without seeing it makes me realize that I definitely won’t get a good grade if I force myself to work on this now. I lay back against the pillows on my bed, sighing as I allow memories from my walk with Duncan yesterday to fill my mind.

  Suddenly, a call from Duncan makes my phone buzz violently. I startle, jolting to an upright position as I

  fumble for my SMARTcall.

  “Hey,” I say in greeting once the device is in my hand; my voice sounds happier and more relaxed than I feel.

  “Hey,” he says back, and I can tell he’s smiling. We exchange trivialities; I’m a little awkward at first, hesitant to be so casual after the intense conversations we’ve had over the past couple of days. But Duncan is as kind as always, and we get to the meat of the matter quickly.

  “So how did your issue with your friend go?” I ask. Duncan exhales, perhaps to dispel any lingering feelings of annoyance.

  “Let’s just say that since I told you about me, this whole thing is harder to keep a secret,” he says. “I’ve got the half-breed identity hidden still, but…Bari isn’t normally perceptive, but I’ve blown off plans he made two or three times now to be with you.”

  I’m flattered, but I wonder if his friend will be a problem. “So you told him about…us?”

  “No. I tried to put him off, in fact, but apparently my ‘suspicious behavior’ made him speculate about what was going on…and when directly confronted, I’m a lousy liar,” he says. “That’s why I called, actually. I just

  wanted to give you a heads up that my best friend—and probably his girlfriend—are unashamedly enthusiastic about us being a couple.”

  “Um…wow. I don’t know what to say to that,” I say, my eyebrows high on my forehead from my incredulity. “That’s…”

  “Unexpected? I know,” Duncan admits. “He told me that the rest of my friends—the ones you met the

  other day—have seen this coming since we met, because evidently I can’t keep my eyes off of you, and it’s distracting.”

  “Sounds like a real problem,” I say, knowing he’ll hear the smile in my voice. Can't keep his eyes off me... “But they’re okay with the whole thing? Like…no one's reporting to the police or selling the story to the media?”

  Duncan laughs. “No. Even if they didn’t approve of us, they’re not losers. Not all human teens are like Bryan and Katrina…but anyway, they want to get to know you better, so they think all of us should have lunch together at school tomorrow.”

  Caution presses me to decline that suggestion, but then I remember the plan Hayley concocted, so I bite my lip and try to keep an open mind. “What did you say?”

  “I didn’t commit…although I don’t think it’s a bad idea if it’s done properly. If you don’t want to for the sake of the plan to hide our being a couple, I’ll get them to understand,” Duncan says. I wish he was here so I could see his face.

  “I don’t think I mind, but I know my friends will talk if I don’t sit with them,” I say. “It’s kind of ridiculous and juvenile but…if I don’t keep up a certain image, life would get messier than I need right now.” Imagining the looks on my friends’ faces, well-meaning as they usually are, isn’t pleasant. I rise from sitting on my bed to pace around my bedroom.

  “So we can all sit together and call it lunch for equality or something,” Duncan says, and I picture him shrugging. “I can pretty much figure where you all

  usually sit, so we’ll just come and join you, maybe…”

  “Okay,” I say after a few seconds of pondering the outcome. “It’s crazy, but we’ll see how it goes.” This subject is clearly closed, but I don’t want to end the call.

  “How are you doing?” I ask vaguely.

  “In regards to my regular health, never better,” Duncan says with a small chuckle. “If you mean how am I doing now that I have a girlfriend and an insanely uncertain future, I’m doing great. More or less excited.”

  “Neat,” I say, a distinct feeling of pleased embarrassment surfacing with Duncan’s flattering acknowledgement that I’m his girlfriend. I’d say more, perhaps continuing this feeling, but my phone vibrates again with a huge shudder.

  “Hold on a sec,” I say as I glance at the caller ID on my SMARTcall. Damn, I think as I see Shelby’s name.

  “Not good news?” Duncan asks as I sigh.

  “I have to take this call…like you said, secrets are hard to keep when friends interfere,” I say. I could promise to call back later, but I’m not sure how much of my time Shelby will claim before my brothers get home. Besides, I have to tell Duncan that I told Hayley about us—only because I seriously trust her and needed her advice—and I’m nervous about what he’ll say.

  Here goes nothing, I think as I hang up on Duncan and take Shelby’s call.

  z

  Monday morning dawns with its typical lack of cheer. It’s becoming a habit for my mind to avoid sleep, so my eyes have tired from spending at least three hours lethargically gazing at the outdated popcorn ceiling of my room. It’s a relief to wake up and get ready for the day, since my night was so unsatisfying.

  My thoughts wander listlessly as I stare into the breakfast pan of eggs, bacon, and mostly fresh bits of tomato. Part of me contains excitement for the day, true: Duncan is the one good part of the school I despise, even if we won’t have too much interaction. I hope his friends will be discreet and not sell me out in front of my own friends. Shelby at least might act decently, and Ivar as well if she indicates that he should be calm.

  This could all go up in flames, my brain warns me as if it's an old woman sitting in a rocking chair in the corner of the room with a sour face and her cane.

  I asked Harold if all of us could go to Hayley’s for

  Dinner tomorrow night, and now all three of my brothers anticipate tomorrow as the high point to an otherwise dismal week. The overall mood in the house remains foul, and breakfast passes in silence. I think back to my ridiculously long conversation with Shelby as I eat and go get dressed for school.

  She was very accepting of my “family crisis�
�; she had called to talk about her date with Ivar and his family. It looks like I’m her new confidante, because now I know more than I ever wanted to about the foibles of Ivar’s family and their interactions with her.

  All of this seems so inconsequential with the prospect of the life-changing vote coming up all too soon, but when I tried to change the subject, Shelby's winning reply was: “The world is going to hell anyway, so I don’t care about that.”

  So, heading to school this morning isn’t something I dreaded as much as I did the first day of classes, but my stomach knots just the same. Eisen drives me to school; I wait for him to bring up Duncan again, but he is curiously mum about the whole affair as we weave in and out of traffic. I’m left to my own thoughts as we arrive and I enter the school without much interaction from my peers. I half expect Duncan to be waiting by my locker, but then I remind myself that he wouldn’t be so unwise as to wait for me in a half-breed hallway.

  “You, my girl, have a lot of explaining to do!” I startle, almost dropping my school tablet as Femi’s loud voice catches my attention. I’ve set my lunch in my locker, and when I turn around my parrot DNA friend stands with arched brows and her delicate hands on her narrow, denim-clad hips. I remember that I never clarified to her exactly why I bailed on the Reis party.

  “Oh gosh,” I say with real chagrin, “I’m so sorry I didn’t get back to you, it’s been a crazy—”

  Femi grins, her serious demeanor melting. “Don’t worry about it. Lyle told me you had a family crisis of some kind. Being related to a lawyer can have its downsides, especially these days,” she says sympathetically. I remember that she must know Harold from the mysterious case he worked for her family a while back.

  “Yeah,” I reply uncertainly. “Sometimes work

  interferes with a lot of stuff in my life…” Femi nods understandingly, her eyes skimming the corridor, probably searching for her sister or my friends.

  “Did you hit it off with Lyle, though?” she asks. The muscles in my face twitch.

  “Well enough…I’m not sure if we had much chemistry, though,” I say truthfully. Now that I know how to recognize true chemistry, I can admit that it's is something Lyle and I do not have.

  Surprisingly, Femi looks relieved. “It didn’t seem like it. At least…” she doesn’t finish her sentence, and the absentminded pat she bestows on my shoulder is uncharacteristic of her.

  “Fai?” Hasida appears, stalking towards us from the direction of our homeroom. She and Femi wear slightly more subdued clothing than the day when all the half-breeds decided to stop hiding their animal aspects, and I hope this might be enough to pacify Belinda without me getting involved.

  “Just be careful, Sierra. Boys think with their dicks,” Femi huffs, her eyes narrowed in sudden anger.

  I blink, unsure what to do with this information. Which boy is she referring to? I wonder, panicking for a second in case she might know who I left the party with. Hasida nods to me in apparent agreement with her sister’s statement.

  “You should have lunch with us sometime,” Hasida's voice is warmer than I’ve heard it before; maybe she decided she wants to be friends too. “There are more half-breed seniors in this school than Lyle’s group.”

  “Sure,” I say, bemused with this whole conversation.

  Hasida nods to me, glancing over my shoulder, and the two leave.

  What was that all about? I wonder as Morgan approaches. She’s smiling, but it’s tinged with a manic edge that worries me. We really need to have that talk soon, I tell myself sternly. She needs to know I don’t like her obviously long-time crush before events get out of hand.

  “How are you?” she asks, making the effort to be nice. I shrug casually.

  “Fine, I guess. A little shaken up by the whole vote thing coming up…but let’s not talk about that,” I say. “I’ve heard enough about it to last me a lifetime.”

  Morgan doesn’t look like she paid attention to what I said. “You never told me, how did your date go with Lyle? Before you left him, that is.”

  “It’s not like she wanted to leave,” Lyle’s voice startles me, and I chastise myself for being this jumpy so early into the day. “Duty called.”

  “All that turn out okay?” Ivar slouches behind Lyle, and suddenly I get the sense that he’s the most

  genuine of the bunch. Morgan is sweet, but confused and probably bitter against me, judging by her stiffness; Shelby is too out there to trust, and Lyle looks like he expects too much from me.

  “Thanks for asking…it’s fine,” I say, noticing that my bear friend has real dimples on either side of his smile. The bell twitters before anyone else can speak, and I’m glad for the excuse to hurry to the half-breed room before anyone can say anything else. It may just be me, but Femi’s cryptic warning has made me feel more on edge than I’d like.

  24

  Lyle hovers a lot closer than I’d like most of the morning. I attribute this to his view that, when I left the party, it was reluctantly and only because Harold told me to. Lyle takes pains to pick up where we left off, but I want no part of his attention as we maneuver between classes; it’s more annoying than anything else. I can’t even speak to Duncan, though we’ve been watching each other as surreptitiously as possible. All the self-control in the world wouldn’t be enough to keep our eyes completely away from each other. Lunch seems days away.

  In fact, everyone lingers much nearer than normal. I try to be equal with where I bestow my attention, but while Morgan and the rest stand close by and are willing to engage in conversation, it’s almost like they’re the court, and Lyle and me are king and queen of our clique.

  It’s nauseating.

  The moment I finally have enough is when Lyle and I debate the vote, in spite of my earlier admittance that I want to avoid thinking about Abel Denmann’s decree. We’re leaning against the wall beside our classroom, and I try to be as casual as I can while his

  lion eyes analyze my face.

  “I don’t understand why this is happening in the first place,” I huff, irritated as I remember the smug face and shiny of suit of the senator I despise. “Supposedly everyone was boarding the equality train, but now this happens, and here we are…”

  “It was only a matter of time,” Lyle interrupts, scowling. “They were playing with peace, probably biding their time and using our labor to build up resources again.”

  “I don’t know,” I combat his cynicism in spite of my own mistrust of humans. “I’d like to think they were making an effort, at least for a while. But now…”

  “Now it looks like they really should have donated a continent to us. At least then we’d be free to have our own way of life,” Lyle’s opinion surprises me, but I don’t comment; he’s distracted me by reaching out and pushing a strand of my hair out of my face. I nearly flinch, alarmed by the touch of his warm fingertips brushing against my cheek. I look away, down at the still-gleaming floor of the hallway. Lyle clears his throat. How awkward.

  “Sorry…your hair was in your face,” he says, shifting his weight awkwardly. I nod, not trusting my voice; my gaze finds Duncan where he’s been standing across the hall, conversing with Truman and pretending he doesn’t notice me. But his eyebrows have drawn down into a glower, and I remember that German Shepherds score high on protective instinct.

  “Thanks,” I say robotically. “I’ll be right back.” I march away from the English classroom, careful not to make eye contact with anyone except Duncan. I hope

  he knows to follow me, or at least check his phone in a minute.

  SIERRA MAURELL: Lunch isn’t a good idea. The amount of tension in the air could set off another hallway brawl.

  I make my way towards the stairs again—the other stairway I’m not supposed to use because it leads to the human cafeteria—and it strikes me once again that the students are all behaving strangely. I thought the upcoming vote would have had everyone snapping at each other’s throats, but the usual heckling and frustrated whispers have
disappeared. Each side, human and M-DNA, seems content to ignore the other, as long as no one breaks the peace. One small spark—like what happened after I back-handed Bryan—could set everything on fire, and then we half-breeds would definitely end up worse off. We might prove ourselves to be animals, even if humans have no right to treat us the way they do.

  It takes two to fight, my thoughts arrange themselves into a phrase that makes me feel sick.

  I reach the stairwell in good time, although I’m still worried I’ll be late to class. Hell, after my record, being late seems like a small thing…but I don’t need more marks against me.

  As I’m wondering whether Duncan bothered to follow me, he bursts through the doorway of the stairwell with a glance over his shoulder.

  “Did you—” I begin, but he cuts me off with a stern look before taking a few steps down and peering into

  the area under the metal lined stairs.

  “What are you doing?” I ask instead. He exhales, his hands gripping the railing as he leans back to look at me. A lopsided grin graces his mouth, the kind that makes me smile too.

  “I think you forgot what usually goes on in high school stairwells,” he says, taking the few stairs separating us in a couple strides. This time I do blush, but I decide that this conversation is less awkward than Lyle touching my hair with awkward affection in front of Duncan.

  “You could have just smelled for them, or listened for breathing,” I remind him, referring to our animal senses.

  “True…but I’m glad no one’s here,” he says. “You’re a hard person to stay away from.”

  “And you’re really difficult to ignore,” I reply as he joins me in leaning against the wall. We stand parallel to the stairway, watching the laser numbers built into the wall right above the doors click down to class time. I catch his scent again and, inexplicably, my mouth waters.

  “It’s...challenging to watch another guy flirt with you,” Duncan says, chagrin in his eyes as he rubs a hand over his jaw line. “I guess it’ll be harder to keep this under wraps than I thought. It’s like I’ve just noticed how many people are going to try to get between us.”