by Tara West
“I am your friend.” I looked up at him, hoping he’d read the sincerity in my eyes. I still liked Frankie, just not the way he wanted.
I jumped when the warning bell rang. Less than a minute and we’d be tardy. “We need to get inside before we get detention.” I tried to step around Frankie but he blocked my path.
“I don’t care if I get detention.” Then he grabbed my arm, not hard enough to hurt me, but as he pressed his fingers into my flesh, I knew he was going to try to keep me there. “Are you and Ethan a thing now?”
Ugh. Why did guys have to act like this? What business was it of his? Besides, though Ethan and I shared on explosive kiss, that didn’t make him my boyfriend. Did it?
“I don’t know. Maybe.” I let out a frustrated breath while shaking off his grip.
“Get your hands off her!”
Ethan’s booming command practically shook the air around us. Actually, I think it did shake the air because I had this weird feeling like a hornet’s nest was buzzing in my brain. I looked over at Frankie, and even he had a stunned look on his face. What was probably most shocking, though, was that Frankie’s hair was standing on end!
Oh, so not good.
Ethan stormed toward us, fists clenched, and a look on his face that promised revenge.
“Ethan!” Instinctively, I jumped in front of Frankie and held out both hands. “No! Don’t touch him! It’s okay.” As I looked into Ethan’s eyes, I thought I saw twin tornadoes brewing beneath them.
That’s when I realized I was more concerned with protecting Ethan than protecting Frankie. If Ethan burned Frankie, word would get out that Ethan was a witch. Then what?
I jerked at Frankie’s hand on my shoulder. Before I could stop him, he’d nudged me aside and puffed up his chest at Ethan. “Touch me and I’ll smash your face in,” he growled.
“Frankie, please,” I cried, trying to get by him. “Just go inside.”
Ethan puffed out his chest and matched Frankie’s scowl with a glare of his own. And just like that, the temperature began to drop.
Oh crap.
I yelped as a shudder stole up my spine, but I wedged myself between them anyway. I figured if someone was going to get hurt by Ethan’s magic, I’d rather it was me. “Hey!” I squeaked, despite my chattering teeth. “Both of you cool off.”
I caught Ethan’s smirk out of the corner of my eye. I feared he’d take my order literally and give Frankie hypothermia.
Imagine my frustration when neither of them backed down. Guys were so stupid. They were like two dogs fighting over a bone. Actually, comparing them to dogs was insulting. My Buster was smarter than both of them put together.
“What’s going on out here?” Mr. Sleznick’s phlegmy shriek resonated behind us.
Oh, boy. Now they were busted.
He walked up to us with a slight shuffle in his step while his stooped shoulders hunched over so far, I thought he’d tip forward. He scowled as he looked at Frankie and then Ethan. “I should have figured.” Then he turned to me, his hot, rancid breath nearly causing me to pass out. “Congratulations, Ms. Sinora,” he said with a venomous hiss. “You’ve got two boys fighting over you. Don’t you feel special?” When he flashed that serpent-like smile, I swear I thought the liver spots on his head were growling at me.
I stepped back, not just because the guy was majorly creepy, but his breath really was nasty. Either he had some kind of serious dental disease, or else he just eaten sludge out of the cafeteria dumpster.
“This isn’t what I wanted,” I said, unable to keep that pleading little whine out of my voice. I’d learned by now that whining didn’t get anywhere with this teacher. In fact, I think he used it as fuel to feed the evil sadistic monster living inside the hollow void where his soul should have been.
Dramatic, I know, but I think the current situation called for a bit of drama.
“Of course not.” His lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing way too many rotten teeth and unleashing a whole new wave of stench from that hole in his face. “The last thing a self-absorbed, spoiled little teen girl wants is to have two guys duke it out to win her affection.” His eyes rolled toward the top of his wrinkly, bald head. “Now you and your boyfriends can spend the rest of the week in detention, and I’m calling your parents.”
Beside me, Ethan and Frankie mumbled something that sounded like swearing.
“No!” I screamed before my hands flew to my mouth. I hadn’t meant to lose it, but I didn’t think I could survive another lecture from my mom.
My teacher pointed a bony finger. “Not another word. And I’m changing your seating assignments.” There was a hint of amusement beneath Sleznick’s evil, sadistic tone as his stony-eyed gaze traveled from the guys back to me. “Ms. Sinora, you can have a special place next to my desk.”
I gasped as I felt my knees weaken. I was vaguely aware of Ethan laying a steadying hand on my shoulder.
Ugh. Breathing Sleznick breath every class period. No freaking way!
But as the spawn of Satan rubbed his hands together, and looked at me with that serpentine gleam in his eyes, I knew there was only one way I’d get out of this torture.
Mind control.
I couldn’t sit by him the rest of the school year. What if that thing with his breath was contagious? What if he truly was the spawn of Satan and he was trying to recruit me for some evil witch army?
Okay, maybe that last part was overly dramatic, but considering the man didn’t have a soul, thinking he was some sort of evil demon wasn’t much of a stretch.
I narrowed my eyes at Sleznick, focusing on one of the many liver spots on his forehead. You will not move Ms. Sinora’s seat. You will not call their parents. You will let them go with a warning.
Sleznick had this perplexed look on his face, and comparing his look to Buster whenever he couldn’t find the origin of his fart was just plain wrong. Buster was way better looking than Sleznick.
He tilted his head and his gaze widened as he looked from Frankie, to me and then to Ethan.
What was taking so long? Sleznick should have succumbed by now.
I repeated my command. You will not move Ms. Sinora’s seat. You will not call their parents. You will let them go with a warning.
“Like hell I will!” Sleznick blurted.
I gasped and stumbled back, nearly tripping over my own feet. Luckily, Ethan had quick reflexes and caught me by the arm.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Y-yeah,” I stammered as I looked into his eyes, which were no longer a thunderous grey, but a dark shade of blue.
Based on my experiences with Ethan, I figured that meant he’d calmed down.
Sleznick looked straight at us and a chill like I’d never known shot to my core. The smile he flashed was even more sadistic than before. And was it my imagination, or did I see a flash of color behind the reflective glare of his glasses?
I blinked hard and looked at Sleznick again, but the eyes staring back at me were the same dark beady orbs of my history teacher.
Weird, because a moment earlier, I’d thought they were red.
He cleared his throat and made a big effort of waving at us with his skinny arm. “Very well,” he heaved a sigh that almost looked fake. “I’ll let you go with a warning, but never let this happen again.” He glared at Frankie and then Ethan. “Understood?”
“Yes, sir.” Both boys nodded in unison.
I could barely find the voice to agree. For some reason, all moisture in my mouth had evaporated. Though Ethan was warm and full of life beside me, I could not escape the chill that snaked its way to the marrow of my bones.
There was something up with Sleznick, and though I was too terrified to pop inside his brain, I couldn’t escape the feeling he truly was the teacher from hell.
*****
How did I know Frankie would be waiting for me in the cafeteria after school? Maybe because he’d figured out it was the shortcut to the auditorium that led to the backstage rehearsal ro
oms. I’d just come from the vending machines after downing an entire soda. Running around from class to class had really worked up a thirst. Pretty soon, I knew I’d have to pee, which was what I kept telling myself. Any excuse to get out of the dreaded talk with Frankie.
“Hey.” I tried my best to look casual, even though his gaze, which was trained on me like a hawk watches its prey, was kind of unnerving.
He was leaning against the back wall, right beside the double doors that led to the auditorium. My gaze darted to those doors, and for a second, I contemplated bolting through them. But that would have made me a coward, and a really crappy friend. Frankie wanted to talk to me, and I’d been avoiding him. Despite the fact that he hadn’t been around this past year, I didn’t want to be the kind of person who ditched her friends when they were in need.
And Frankie was definitely in need.
As I closed the distance between us, I could feel the longing pulsating off his body, but not for admiration or sex, or anything a girl would expect from a guy. This need was something far more humble. Frankie just wanted me to accept him.
Strange. Why would he worry about something like that? And what was the point in being a telepath if I was so terrible at reading boys?
He pushed off the wall with the sole of his shoe and walked over me, looking down at me with the slightest hint of that sideways smile. Damn him for being so cute, even when he was sad. And Frankie was definitely unhappy. Pain and rejection shrouded him like a cloak, permeating the air and settling in my heart like a stone.
What was wrong with him, and why did I sense this wasn’t about me and Ethan, but a part of something much bigger?
An image projected into my brain, an image of a middle-aged man who looked a lot like Frankie. He had Frankie’s big eyes, but whereas Frankie’s were always warm and smiling, this guy’s seethed with anger.
Omigod!
Was this Frankie’s dad? And what had just happened to my head? Up until this point, I’d been able to hear people’s thoughts and sense their moods, but to actually see what they’d seen brought my telepathic powers to a whole new level.
“Where’s your boyfriend?” Frankie asked.
I jerked, looking up at him as the vision of the angry man disappeared. “He probably went to rehearsal,” I said through a hollow voice that didn’t even sound like my own. I rubbed my fuzzy head. My brain was still reeling from that vision.
Frankie’s laughter brought me back to reality.
“What?” I asked, flushing with annoyance.
He shook his head, snickering. “You didn’t argue with me when I called him your boyfriend.”
I stiffened as a low growl escaped my throat. Even if the boy had daddy issues, that didn’t give him the right to act like a possessive jerk. “Is that what you wanted to talk to me about? Because I’ve got to get to rehearsal.”
“Wait.” He stepped closer, until we were nearly toe to toe. “I was an ass today. I’m sorry.”
I looked up at him, puzzled by his shifts in behavior. Whatever it was, I was nearly positive something his dad had said or done was behind Frankie’s mood swings.
“Frankie, what’s going on with you? You’re hiding something from me.”
I tried to search his face for clues, but he’d turned his gaze down. A feeling of shame washed over me. And then I knew, whatever had happened between Frankie and his father, had caused him to be this insecure and depressed boy.
When he lifted his gaze to mine, I thought my heart would break. It was as if dark clouds had settled over his eyes. Gone was the confident and mischievous flirt. In his place was a broken soul.
As more feelings of rejection and confusion washed over me, the pieces finally fell into place. I knew what was upsetting Frankie. I just couldn’t believe it had taken me this long to figure it out.
“Here’s the thing.” His lip trembled as he spoke. “You know I want you to be my girl.”
“Yeah, I get that,” I said, “but I think you’re confused.”
He jerked back, looking at me as if I’d just slapped him across the face. “What?”
“That thing you said about Mike’s butt.”
Frankie backed away splaying his hands in a defensive gesture. A look of annoyance flashed across his features. “I was joking.” But the force of denial behind his punctured words told me otherwise.
Well, there was no skirting the obvious. I slowly inhaled a deep breath and then spoke on a rush of air. “Do you like guys? Tell me the truth.”
He stared at me for a long moment, a look of horror etched in his slackened jaw and wide eyes. Finally, he dropped his hands to his sides, and his shoulders slumped with the movement. “Maybe,” he barely mumbled the word. Then he blurted, “But that doesn’t change how I feel about you.”
I shook my head, thinking back to the time he’d fallen asleep when we’d made out and that other time when he’d accused Ethan of being gay. It all made sense now. At least it did to me. But as all these mixed emotions flew from Frankie’s brain, I realized it wasn’t quite as clear to Frankie. Or maybe he was just in denial.
I pressed on, determined to make Frankie see the truth. Maybe I should have let him figure it out on his own, but what kind of a friend would I have been then? The guy was confused and he needed help.
“Why’d you get sent to live with your grandparents?”
Frankie heaved a sigh before smoothing his hands down his face. Gawd, looking at him now, it was like looking into the eyes of an old man. There were heavy dark circles under his eyes and his naturally tanned skin had paled.
“I was… experimenting with another guy,” he said on a whisper so low I had to strain my ears to hear him. “My dad caught us.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. That angry image of Frankie’s dad in my brain must have been from when they’d been caught.
“He called me a fag and kicked me out of the house,” Frankie continued before looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes. “It was just a kiss. That’s all.”
I pressed my head against his heart while wrapping my arms around his neck. “It’s okay,” I spoke into his shirt fabric. “No judgment here.”
Frankie leaned over, his whisper a heated breath in my ear. “I like you a lot. I know I could be happy with you.”
I sighed against him, letting his warmth and the scent of his rich musk envelop me. I knew a guy like Frankie could have made me happy, but for how long? And it wouldn’t have been fair for either of us, because I knew now why Frankie wanted me to be his girl.
“Are you sure? Or do you want to be with me just to please your dad?”
Frankie pulled back and grabbed both of my shoulders. “No, that’s not it at all.”
I shook my head. “I think you need to figure out who you are before you commit to anyone.”
“But if I put you off….” Frankie released my shoulders as his voice rose to a frantic pitch. “You’ll just go out with Ethan.”
“That’s probably already going to happen. I like Ethan a lot.”
His full lips turned down in a pout. Damn. Gay or not, the boy was hot. “More than me?”
“Yeah,” I sighed. “Sorry. I still want to be your friend.”
His face colored. “Please don’t say that. Every girl says that when she dumps a guy.”
I took Frankie’s hand in both of mine, looking up into his eyes. “But not every girl means it. It’s true. Think about who you want to be, Frankie. Don’t let your dad or anyone else decide who you are.”
He averted his gaze, and I thought I saw a sheen of tears coating his thick eyelashes. “You don’t know what it’s like being me, being rejected by your parent.”
I bit my tongue at that. Actually, I did know what it was like. The only difference was I hadn’t come out to my mom yet. And as I reflected on how Frankie’s dad had reacted to him, I realized I’d probably never get the nerve to tell her I was a witch. I didn’t think I could bear it if she hated me.
“This is your life
, not his.” I squeezed his hand, relief flooding through me when he squeezed back, but he still hadn’t made eye contact, continuing to stare at the floor.
When he finally lifted his gaze to mine, it felt like my heart had been struck by a hammer. A few tears had slipped over the bottoms of his eyes, and the sense of sorrow and rejection that washed over me was almost more than I could bear.
“My Uncle Carlos was gay.” He trembled as he spoke. Even his hand beneath mine shook as his palm began to perspire. “My grandma has always called me Carlos. It’s like she knew something before anyone else did. He died from AIDS. You know what my dad said to me? He said he hopes I get AIDS, too.” Frankie barely choked out that last part.
I was so overwhelmed with emotion—my throat constricted and my tongue felt like a lead-weight in my mouth—I couldn’t even manage to say I was sorry.
I wanted to tell Frankie he was mistaken and his father would come around and realize he loved his son no matter what, but how could I when I feared rejection from my mother? In the end, I did the only thing I could do—I held Frankie in my arms while he rested his head on my shoulder. And though I’d heard a few subdued sniffles, I pretended not to hear him cry.
We held each other for what seemed like an eternity. I have to admit, holding Frankie like that and being held by two strong arms felt so nice. He’d make some guy happy one day.
When I heard a commotion behind us I reluctantly pulled away.
Ethan was standing in the doorway, looking at us with a slackened jaw.
I realized seeing Frankie and me holding each other probably didn’t go over well with Ethan, but his eyes were hooded from the shadow of the heavy door and no angry thoughts were projecting into my brain.
“S-sorry,” he stammered. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
Really? He wasn’t even pissed? Had the boy gotten a lobotomy that I didn’t know about?
“Nah. It’s okay,” Frankie said in a voice thick with emotion.
When my gaze shot to Frankie, my mouth fell open at the sight of him. His face was red and splotchy, his red-rimmed eyes were wet, and his nose was dripping. Omigod. Frankie actually looked less than perfect. That was a first. Ethan must have realized Frankie had been crying. That had to explain why he wasn’t upset to find me in the arms of another boy. Either that, or else he was learning to trust me.