Stalked (A Secret Salem Novel)

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Stalked (A Secret Salem Novel) Page 3

by J. N. Colon


  “Earth to Rubi.” Madison snapped her fingers in front of my face to garnish my attention. “That is McCollum Davenport, AKA Mac Dav, or just plain Mac, but clearly there’s nothing plain about him.”

  “Nope,” I breathed, still awestruck. His white collared uniform shirt was unbuttoned at the top and untucked from his gray pants, but it did nothing to hide the rippling muscles outlined in his arms and chest. His tie hung loose, allowing more pale skin to show at his neckline, a neckline I wouldn’t mind licking. A roguish smile split his plump, kissable mouth.

  Longing thrummed my heart like a love song until I remembered he was talking to Aspen, my body instantly deflating. “I guess he’s in the in-crowd.”

  Madison nodded, regret clinging to her expression. “He is the in-crowd even though he’s only a junior like us. His dad, Whitmore Davenport, basically owns half this school.”

  I grimaced, watching my chances of even catching his eye crumbling before me.

  “Come on,” Madison intoned, tugging my arm toward the food line. “There’s more fish in the sea than that devilishly handsome jock.”

  A sigh drifted out my mouth, but pulled up short when his eyes unexpectedly focused directly on mine. My heart jumped in my throat and I could scarcely breathe from the way those jade irises held me captive. The entire length of my skin tingled as if he was actually touching me, his hands caressing me like a future lover, like someone who would do anything to simply hold me.

  My lips attempted a smile at the very instant my left foot decided to entangle with my right one and I tripped—landing right on my ass.

  The dining hall erupted in laughter and my face immediately burned an unattractive shade of scarlet. Madison yanked me up. “Just laugh it off,” she hissed between her tight smile.

  So I did. I pretended my butt wasn’t pounding in pain or that my self-esteem wasn’t seriously injured. I also pretended I didn’t see McCollum Davenport laughing along with everyone else and I ignored the deep ache spreading through my chest because of it.

  Chapter 4

  The next day I awoke with more than a bruised ego. A purple and blue blob the size of my hand rested on my right buttock. I spent most of the day gritting my teeth against the pain while ignoring the snickers and comments. It was awesome and I mean that with the utmost level of sarcasm.

  I ate my meals with Madison and listened to her babble about the social and administrative hierarchy. Apparently Highland was slack on enforcing most of the rules, especially with the richest of kids in Hampton Hall.

  Against my better judgment I also ogled McCollum Davenport out the corner of my eye, turning myself into a true masochist. He spent most of dinner flirting with Paisley Collins and joking with Brantley Dentwood, the blonde guy from history that found my name exceptionally hilarious. At one point he stowed away in a corner with Emmaline, one of the most beautiful girls I’d ever seen. I remembered her gliding into the common room yesterday with her roommate Tatum.

  Her glossy flaxen hair hung like spun silk down her back and around her delicate porcelain face. High cheek bones that would put any model to shame rested beneath a pair of round eyes the color of a deep blue twilight sky. She was tall and rail-thin with a gracefulness any ballerina would envy. Madison explained she was a senior whom McCollum had grown up with and had known his entire life.

  They whispered heatedly as if having an argument, but in the end Emmaline batted her mesmerizing eyes and he grinned, showing a pair of symmetrical dimples. Clearly they were more than friends.

  That was when I lost my appetite for the chicken Szechuan I was chowing down—well almost. I managed to finish it in the end. What could I say? My appetite was more relentless than a teenage guy’s.

  ***

  “Can you move? You’re totally hogging the mirror.” My roommate’s snooty voice punctured my ears the same time she elbowed me in the ribs. “You don’t need it anyways.”

  I rolled my eyes and shuffled to my twin bed, plopping down on the cream comforter identical to Aspen’s. She had said, “If we’re sharing this room then each of our sides must match.” That meant I had to go along with whatever she wanted.

  “You have, like, the best hair Aspen.” Alyssa, one of Aspen’s friends, was standing next to her, eyeing her auburn hair enviously.

  “I know.” A satisfactory smile played across her lips as she applied a shimmery pink gloss. “My grandmother says I should be an actress and I have that old Hollywood glamour.”

  I had to admit her grandmother was right. Aspen was gorgeous like most of the rich girls at Highland, but there was something classically beautiful about her. She had high cheekbones, a straight nose, pouty lips, and round amber eyes. A few freckles dotted her nose and cheeks, somehow adding to her beauty instead of diminishing it.

  It was completely annoying.

  “That would be so cool,” Alyssa said, attempting to check her own reflection in the mirror.

  Alyssa was a different kind of pretty compared to Aspen, taking a lot of time and effort to look good. Her lush raven curls were probably coated in product to keep them from frizzing and the thick layer of makeup she shellacked on was to cover up the acne scars dotting her skin. Her hazel eyes were lined in thick liner and mascara to make them pop and her skin had that slightly orange tint that came from bronzers and fake tanning spray. I had lived in southern Florida my entire life and could spot a fake tan a mile away.

  A knock resonated on the oak door and Aspen squealed, tossing her makeup on her desk. “Get that Alyssa,” she ordered, smoothing her hair again.

  Alyssa pranced to the door like a dutiful worker bee.

  “Hi.” A familiar husky voice flowed out.

  Oh no. My heart dropped in my stomach and my breathing ceased. If that was McCollum Davenport I was going to puke if I had to endure him flirting with Aspen this close to me.

  Alyssa stepped aside and in walked a boy with a halo of golden hair, hooded hazel eyes, and a mischievous mouth. He was tall and fit like all the guys that hung around Aspen, slender muscles bunching and moving beneath his clothes.

  I let my breath out, relief sucking my heart back in my chest to beat normally.

  “Hi babe,” Brantley Dentwood crooned, earning several giggles from Aspen. “Lys.” He winked at her behind Aspen’s back.

  Unbelievable. Aspen was completely oblivious to the serious eye flirting going on between the two.

  “Well,” Alyssa sighed, her smile slanted. “I’ll see you guys later.” She sashayed out the door with one more furtive glance at Brantley.

  Now it was just the three of us except I seemed to be invisible—until Brantley turned his eyes on me, a crocodile smile splitting his lips. “Rubiks Moon-Gem.” He sat beside Aspen on her bed and lounged back like a lazy cat. “How’s it going?”

  “It’s just Rubi,” I muttered.

  “Right. So where are you from Rubiks?”

  I clenched my jaw. “Florida.”

  “That’s why you have such a great tan,” he mused, pushing up the sleeves of his crimson uniform sweater to reveal pale, muscled forearms. “You must swim a lot.”

  I nodded.

  “Do you usually where a one piece or a two piece?” He licked his lips as his hooded eyes appeared to be mentally undressing me.

  I self-consciously slid my hair over my shoulder to cover my chest, my cheeks burning hot.

  “Brant,” Aspen whined. “Just ignore her. I usually do.” She leaned down and covered his mouth with hers, her auburn hair sliding around them like a curtain.

  I grimaced and averted my gaze to the ceiling, picking at a threadbare hole in my jeans over the knee.

  “Don’t you have somewhere else you can go?” Aspen asked when she finally came up for air, silencing their disgusting smacking noises.

  My brows met and I wanted to defend the right to remain in my own room, but I honestly would rather be anywhere else. So instead I stuffed my feet into my black Chuck Taylors and grabbed my laptop and red hoodie bef
ore slamming the door behind me.

  I squeezed through the students loitering in front of their doors, wishing I was anywhere but here. Maybe I could ask to be switched into a different dorm, one less crowded with snobs. I’d have to share a bathroom with a dozen girls, but that would be better than living with Aspen Vanderguild.

  I left the dorm through a small side hall I almost missed and ended up in an older building where the wood décor abruptly turned to stone and scones were crude iron. Cobwebs dripped down the walls and hung from the shadowed ceiling, threatening to fall on my head or drop creepy crawlers on me. The maze of dimly lit corridors was deserted and the cool air heightened the eeriness, spawning goose bumps across my flesh. The small gilded windows were sparse, letting in dim, silvery moonlight. The only sound was my rubber soles padding gently against the stone floor.

  My heart rate doubled and with every turn I expected a monster to jump out. My nerves were raw and it was impossible to tell if someone was following me, watching me, or if it was just paranoia.

  I finally located an exit before fainting from terror, pushing the heavy door open to get smacked by frigid air. My eyes flickered to the school while I hurried away, the ominous stone building blending into the night sky as if it were a part of the darkness. Maybe it was.

  A shiver rippled up my spine, prickling my flesh. I wasn’t sure what was worse, being scared of some invisible fiend or having to listen to Brant and Aspen sucking face.

  My mind flashed back to the room, taking a guess at what they could be doing right now.

  Nope. I’d take Casper or spiders over being subjected to that.

  I meandered through the grove of trees, my feet crunching on dry, dead leaves. The old maples and oaks stood tall, their twisting branches blocking out most of the moonlight save for the occasional patch. The foliage appeared dull and monotonous in the shadow of night.

  I plopped down against an ancient oak where the trunk curved and roots split wide, forming a chair. The leaf covered ground was cold beneath me so I snuggled into my Lone Star Burger Shack hoodie. It was from a restaurant famous for serving gigantic burgers, offering a t-shirt or sweatshirt of your choice if you consume the whole meal in a specified time.

  I chose the red hoodie.

  A smile twitched my lips, remembering the manager’s stunned expression when I finished the entire burger. Initially he assumed I cheated, but after checking the floor and viewing my empty pockets he declared me a champ. I couldn’t blame him for expecting foul play. I was 5’ 3” sitting at about 105 pounds. But like I said—I had an appetite and I liked meat. The hoodie even said as much on the back.

  A sudden ache twisted my chest, thinking of my friends back home. Jill and Eric were with me that night.

  I swallowed the pain and popped open my laptop to check their Facebook pages. It took all of five minutes of reading their posts and staring enviously at their beach photos to regret it.

  I closed the laptop with a click and pushed up on my heels to leave when laughter carried on the wind. I peeked around the ancient oak and saw Emmaline tiptoeing between trees, the leaves silent under her feet. The moon dowsed her in silvery light, illuminating her flaxen hair and striking features until she looked like a mythical woodland creature. Her smile was slanted and held a mischievous edge as she glanced back at the boy obediently following her. It was Trevor, the hot senior Sutton was sitting next to in the common room when Paisley humiliated me.

  She unexpectedly turned and laughed at someone else emerging from the shadows. My heartbeats tripped all over themselves when I saw those heavily lashed jade eyes framed by midnight strands of hair that were too soft looking to belong to a guy. McCollum Davenport wore a roguish grin across his sensual mouth as he met up with Emmaline, a quiet companion with him too.

  They sparked a conversation, their voices gently floating toward me.

  “Where’s Brant,” Emmaline asked, her voice like crystal bells.

  McCollum shrugged. “Who cares.”

  The girl with McCollum stepped forward, revealing herself. The urge to hurl my dinner was barely tolerable as Paisley Collins linked arms with him. Her silky black hair appeared liquid in the moonlight and her skin was flawless beneath the lilac dress that hugged her symmetrical curves perfectly. What guy wouldn’t want a girl like that?

  My brows knit in confusion as I continued to stare, noticing her cobalt eyes were unfocused and glazed over as if she were under the influence of something. Trevor wore a similar expression.

  Were they high? It wasn’t like I didn’t know kids smoked that crap. I just didn’t peg them for stoners.

  “Oh well. I guess he’s having a private party.” Emmaline laughed, turning slightly to reveal an old leather bound book clutched against her chest.

  Was that the same one those rich kids were fascinated with during dinner yesterday?

  McCollum returned the laugh, but it seemed off, a little bitter maybe. Emmaline didn’t notice.

  The foursome was on the move again, heading toward a dark building. Paisley and Trevor remained quiet as the group melted into the shadows.

  I eased up and tiptoed in the same direction, curiosity screaming through my veins. Unfortunately when I turned the corner I found myself staring at a solid stone wall and the foursome nowhere in sight.

  What the French toast? It was as if they disappeared into thin air. Or into the solid stone wall of the building.

  Chapter 5

  “Everyone gather into groups and work on your discussion questions,” Professor Allan announced, passing back handouts to each row with a warm smile spreading her lips.

  Professor Allan was one of the sweetest teachers at Highland. Correction, the only one. Her long dishwater hair streaked with gray was always pinned back in a bun with lose strands falling around her oval face. She wore strict tailored business suits or skirts that didn’t match her warm personality. I pictured her style more like my mom’s—bohemian.

  A serious con about her was she assumed all students enjoyed working in groups. Not me. Now I was experiencing that awkward moment where my cheeks were on fire with embarrassment as I glanced around for a friendly face in English class. There were none. Every single student was one of those snobby rich kids I shared a dorm with and nothing else.

  Professor Allan noticed my struggling and pushed her wire-rimmed glasses up her tiny pointed nose in thought. I was hoping she would tell me I could work alone. Instead the worst possible scenario ensued.

  “Aspen and Paisley.” Professor Allan ambled over, her heels clacking on the wooden floor. “Why don’t you let Rubi join your group?”

  Aspen’s lips thinned and her amber eyes turned cold enough to freeze my undies right off. Professor Allan was the dorm mother for our floor so she was aware of our shared living arrangement. She just wasn’t privy to the strong hatred between us.

  “Sure,” Paisley answered, shaking her perfectly straight black bangs out of her face. Her smile was sugary sweet, but those slanted eyes were filled with an all too familiar disdain.

  Perfect.

  I reluctantly trudged toward them and pulled a desk to theirs, scrapping it loudly on the floor.

  Professor Allan smoothed back a dishwater strand that had went astray of her bun. “Now you girls play nice.”

  The minute she walked away their smiles morphed into contemptuous sneers. Even though they were hateful snobs it was hard to ignore the pang in my heart. Why did they hate me so much?

  “Let’s just hurry and get this done so I can go back to my desk,” I grumbled, opening my literature book. We were studying The Crucible of all things. Shouldn’t that book be outlawed in Salem?

  “Whatever.” Aspen rolled her eyes and turned back to Paisley. “Are you hanging out with Mac Dav tonight?”

  A furtive smile spread across her sharp face. “Of course. He’s totally hot.”

  “Oh yeah. Everyone thinks so.” Aspen laughed and tossed her auburn hair behind her slender shoulder. Her gaze narrowed o
n me, a malicious glint flashing in it. “Even Rubiks thinks so.”

  My heart stopped dead.

  “And don’t even try lying. I saw you drooling over Mac in the dining hall the other night—just before you fell on your ass.”

  They both cackled.

  And me? My face turned fifty shades of red.

  Paisley leaned forward, her lids narrowing over those shards of dark blue. “I’m not Sutton. I wouldn’t let someone steal him away.”

  My head snapped back in a mixture of surprise and confusion. “What?”

  Paisley returned to her chair and shrugged, peering at her perfectly manicured nails. “Sutton used to date Mac before I snatched him away.”

  My mouth hung open. “But you’re friends.”

  She snickered. “Sutton’s weak. She couldn’t hold onto him.” She crossed her arms against her chest and arched a dark brow, allowing hostility to distort her features. “So don’t even think about going after him because it won’t happen.”

  “As if Mac would even go for Rubiks,” Aspen smirked, reaching a long finger over to tug a clump of my hair. “I mean that crazy mane is enough to scare any guy away.”

  “Yeah. Have you ever heard of a brush?” Paisley yanked a strand.

  I clenched my jaw and blinked away the humiliating tears stinging my eyes. Their cruelty didn’t bother me so much. It was the truth they spoke. McCollum Davenport would never be interested in me.

  And for some unknown reason it hurt like hell.

  Afterschool I was still consumed with what Aspen and Paisley said in English. I changed into jeans and Chuck Taylors and rushed out my dorm. My feet led me toward the east side of campus into a vacant grove of trees.

 

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