Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel)
Page 3
Fuck, Rome thought. This day was just getting better and better.
“The boy does have a point,” Dean Oakland smiled.
“I was trying to be polite,” Shawn said, “unlike someone.”
“Whatever,” Rome breathed, snatching his backpack off of the floor. He caught up with Kaleb near the stairs.
“I didn’t mean to imply that you were—”
“Do I look like I care?”
“Yeah, actually, you do.”
Kaleb glared at him.
“You asked, I answered,” Rome said.
“It was a rhetorical question.”
“I know that. It still doesn’t change the fact.”
“What fact?” Shawn asked, drifting over.
“That he’s a liar,” Kaleb said. He smirked, holding Rome’s gaze. “You are your own special kind of monster, aren’t you?”
“Okay, I think maybe I should get you two to your rooms.”
“Is that a threat?” Rome said.
“Not at all. I’m just letting you know—I know what you are.”
“Come on, getting into a fight on your first day isn’t—”
“Shut up,” Rome barked, holding up a hand to silence Shawn as he kept his eyes trained on Kaleb. “Don’t pretend like you know me.”
“I don’t have to pretend,” Kaleb smiled. “There’s only ever one thing hiding beneath sheep’s clothing.”
“You know,” Shawn interjected, “you’re adjusting quite well. Most people would have had a difficult time accepting everything you just learned.”
Rome ambled past him, muttering, “I’m not most people.”
He curled his fingers around the banister, walking slowly down the stairs as Shawn took point. Kaleb seemed intent to shadow him the entire way. That left a strange sensation in the pit of Rome’s stomach.
“This is the student lounge,” Shawn said. “It can be used for studying or socializing. The west wing is reserved for gifted students, and the boys’ dorms are found on the north side of the hall. Obviously, the girls’ dorms are off limits, and vice versa. Oh, and just so you’re aware, the balconies are not for smoking. If you’re even found carrying cigarettes on school grounds, you will be suspended without warning.”
“Why don’t you just show us to our rooms already and trust that we both have the common sense to wipe our own ass?” Rome said. “And by the way, neither of us smokes, so stop making assumptions.”
“How do you know he doesn’t smoke?”
“Does he smell like cigarettes to you?”
Kaleb smiled, looking away.
“I didn’t realize you’d smelled me that closely,” he said.
“Shut up,” Rome grumbled.
“Are you two done yet?”
Rome rolled his eyes, trailing after Shawn as he led them down the wide hall. He kept his eyes fixed on his boots, watching his reflection in the polished hardwood. Large doors lined either side of the hall, and vibrant light fixtures spanned the length of the ceiling. This place was even nicer than he’d expected. That only managed to make him feel more out of place. Before today, he’d never even seen the outside of the building. Despite being a part of Redwood Bay, Vardel Academy sat alone on the outskirts of town, secluded by trees and miles of endless road. It was almost the farthest he’d been from home. Shawn came to a sudden halt, and Rome nearly crashed into him. Admittedly, he hadn’t been paying much attention. He was too busy trying to ignore the gnawing sensation in his gut. It didn’t take much to figure out it that it had something to do with Kaleb. The longer he was around him, the worse it was getting. Even his teeth ached.
“These are your dorms,” Shawn said, holding out two keys. They reached out and plucked them from his fingers. “You’re each assigned to the opposite room. You’ll find that three uniforms have been laid out for you on your beds. Don’t worry about size; they’ll automatically adjust to fit. Classes don’t begin until tomorrow, but you are required to wear your uniform at all times, meaning you will need to change into them for orientation.”
“I think we’ve got it,” Rome said.
Shawn was more than happy to leave them to it.
Kaleb glanced at Rome after he left, tossing his key at him and watching as he fumbled to catch it. Rome hucked his key at him in response, and Kaleb’s hand shot up, catching the small piece of metal with ease.
“Screw you too,” Rome groused, turning the key in the lock.
The door opened into the center of the room, looking straight across to a large, arched window that was spilling light across the hardwood floors. A king-sized bed lined the right wall, covered in crisp white sheets and decorative pillows. The frame of the bed was made of solid wood, and the nightstands that sat on either side were done in a matching cherry red. A decent sized desk and two tall bookshelves took up the left wall, and a closet jutted out on the right side of the door.
Rome tossed the directory, watching it slide over the desk and crash into one of the shelves. It had been a while since he’d had his own room. The couch he slept on hardly instilled that sense of home sweet home. It smelt like whiskey, and sweat – among other things. He slipped his backpack off his shoulder and sat down on the edge of the mattress, feeling it dip under his weight. His eyes caught on his reflection in the mirrored closet doors, and he took a moment to just stare at himself in disbelief.
“Yeah, you’re not buying this either, are you?” he muttered.
He turned to look at the uniforms draped neatly across the bed. He’d never worn anything this nice, stayed anywhere this nice. He was having a hard enough time believing he actually belonged here, but throwing in the existence of magic and vampires…
It was all making this feel like a really bad trip.
***
Ariahna walked through the doors to the auditorium, her eyes scanning over the rows of seats. They stretched down towards a wide stage on the far side of the room. The velvet blue curtain swayed gently behind the podium as she drifted down the steps, looking for a place to sit in a sea of unknown faces. She found a spot along the aisle, startling when someone jumped into the chair beside her – Christian.
“Is this seat taken?” he grinned, draping an arm over her shoulders.
“No,” she said slowly, “I guess not.”
She hadn’t had a chance to really look at him before, but it was hard not to now with him sitting so close. He was handsome, that much was obvious; but it was a very peculiar set of characteristics working together to make him attractive. He had a strong, masculine jawline, with sharp, high cheekbones, and full, soft looking lips. Confidence exuded from his every pore. She tore her eyes away from his mouth, admiring the smoothness of his skin. Fine, feathery brunette hair was carefully styled atop his head; and a few swept away strands framed his eyes, which were a deep, soulful brown.
“Are you sure you meant to sit here?” she asked.
“I know; it’s a lot to take in all at once.”
Aria looked away in embarrassment.
“…You should see my abs,” he whispered.
Scarlet turned around in her seat, raising her eyebrows at Christian. “You never quit, do you?” she complained. Her eyes snapped over to Aria. “You,” she said, shooting her a sultry smile. “You were the one making out with our new resident bad boy, weren’t you?”
“What? No. Where did you hear that?”
“Oh, we haven’t made out yet,” Christian smirked, “but we will.” He stroked his fingers over her hair, playing with a few soft curls dangling near her chest.
Ariahna tensed, feeling the movement of his hand. She’d almost forgotten he had his arm draped around her. She rolled her shoulders uncomfortably and Christian readjusted, wrapping his arm around her a little tighter. He didn’t seem to be getting the hint. She grabbed his palm to pull his arm away, and he squeezed her hand with a smile.
“Get your arm off of her,” Scarlet said, rolling her eyes in exasperation. “You’re one wrong move away from a harass
ment charge.”
“What’s wrong,” he replied, “jealous? If you want this, you know all you have to do is ask.”
“Sweetie, I don’t get jealous,” Scarlet said. “And if I did, it certainly wouldn’t be over someone like you. You look like the jealous type, though… He’s watching her right now, you know.”
Aria turned to follow Scarlet’s line of sight, spotting Rome sitting alone in the back corner. He was staring at her, intently.
She didn’t know what to make of that.
“I’d be careful with that one,” Scarlet advised.
“Why?” she asked, twisting back in her seat.
“Let me give you a little friendly advice. That boy is bad news. He’s what we call trouble with a capital T. Do you even know who he is? His father’s the town drunk. They live on the edge of town in this disgusting trailer. And if my sources are good, which heaven knows they are, he’s spent his fair share of time in the back of a police car.”
“I thought he looked familiar,” Christian mumbled.
“I wasn’t making out with him,” Aria clarified. “But even if I was, it would be none of your business. Besides, what does who his father is have anything to do with who he is? Do you even know him, or is all you have to contribute gossip and rumors?”
“Don’t get me wrong,” Scarlet smiled, “I get the appeal. Wicked things are sometimes the most attractive. But just because something’s pretty, doesn’t mean it’s not dangerous.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
“Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Scarlet turned her attention back to Christian with a smile on her ruby-red lips. She wasn’t nearly as oblivious to his motivations as Aria seemed to be. “And while we’re on the subject of trouble and boys who are bad news, why don’t we talk about the one sitting next to you.”
“Excuse me?” he said.
Aria tried her best to ignore the two of them. She even went so far as to look for Rome again; only he was already gone. There goes that idea, she thought. The dark corner of the auditorium he’d been occupying was empty. What she didn’t notice was him walking down the steps towards her.
“I thought you might like some better company,” he offered.
“You can’t mean you,” Christian laughed.
“I did, actually.”
“Well, I see you’ve ditched the grunge look at least.” Rome was wearing his uniform, but incorrectly. His shirt was untucked, his sleeves were rolled up, and he was sporting a pair of dirty old boots instead of the dress shoes they’d been provided. Not to mention his tie was hanging loosely from his open collar. His blue and silver tie. “What, did you steal that from someone?” Christian said. He snapped his fingers, watching with a smile as it turned from blue to red. “There, that’s better.”
Aria’s eyes widened at Christian’s use of magic. “You’re not supposed to do that,” she whispered, glancing around before snapping her fingers and changing it back. “Just leave him alone, okay?” Christian scoffed, watching her gather her things and follow Rome back up the steps.
“Thanks,” she mumbled. “For offering to sit with me, I mean.”
“It just looked like they were bothering you.”
In truth, Rome knew they’d been bothering her. He’d been listening in on their conversation. He slunk back into the seat he’d previously been occupying, turning a small silver band around his middle finger.
“That looks old,” Aria commented.
“What?”
She pointed to his ring and Rome shook his head.
“It was my mother’s. I think it’s more beaten up than old. She used to wear it on a chain around her neck. It was easier to read the inscription that way, I guess. It was always too big for her anyways.”
“There’s an inscription on the inside?”
He nodded.
“Can I ask what it says?”
“To thine own self be true. Why?”
“…Can I see it?”
Rome hesitated. It was one of the very few things he had left of his mother, besides her memory. “Okay,” he said. “Just be careful.”
“I will, I promise.”
He handed her the ring and she smoothed her thumb over the scratched silver. The metal turned blue under her touch.
“What was that? What did you do?”
“Nothing,” she smiled, placing it back in his palm. “I think that’s a family heirloom. It’s enchanted.”
Rome slipped the ring back onto the safety of his finger.
“Enchanted, as in magic?”
“Yes. Objects can hold certain magical properties. If I had to guess, I’d say that ring aids in speaking your mind.”
“Well I don’t think it works then,” he laughed. “I hardly ever open my mouth. I guess today’s been somewhat of an exception.”
“That’s alright,” she replied. “I’m quiet too.”
Rome smiled at that.
“So,” he drawled. “The gifted program… not what I expected.”
Ariahna donned a laughing smile.
“Sorry about that. It’s pretty unusual that someone transferring to Vardel for the program doesn’t know why they’re here. I guess I made the assumption that since you didn’t know, you weren’t, you know, magical.”
“Can I tell you a secret?” he breathed. “…I don’t think I am.”
Chapter 3
The auditorium was quiet, filled only by the soft sound of shuffling papers and hushed speech. The Dean’s voice filtered through the grainy speakers and echoed off the walls. It could have almost been described as peaceful, if it hadn’t been so boring. Rome yawned, glancing down at his schedule. The only class he even recognized was History, yet somehow he knew they weren’t going to be talking about the Civil War. The list was otherwise filled with courses like Alchemy, and Elements, not to mention something called—
“What the hell is Transmutation?” he whispered.
Aria smiled, restraining a giggle.
“All of the courses are outlined in the student manual,” she said, cracking hers open. Rome leaned in, scanning the page.
“Transmutation focuses on transforming the state of an object or being into another form,” he mumbled.
“Think turning water to wine.”
Maybe he had magic after all, he thought. “What about turning a person into an animal? Would that qualify as transmutation?”
“Technically, yes. But human transmutation is considerably difficult, unless you’re a shapeshifter of some sort… Why?”
“Someone threatened to turn me into a rat once,” he lied.
“They couldn’t do that,” she laughed. “They could, however, turn you into an inanimate object.” The look on Rome’s face prompted her to continue. “There’s a bedtime story witches tell to their children; it’s about an old crone named Darva. She turned all the kids in her village into apples, and then baked them into apple pies. When she was done, she went around town distributing the pies to their parents. She told them that now their children were as sweet as they’d always claimed. It’s supposed to dissuade kids from misbehaving.”
“That sounds ridiculous.”
“I’m just not telling it right,” she murmured, shaking her head.
“I’m not sure there is a right way to tell kids they’re going to be baked into pies,” he laughed. Aria smiled at him shyly. The Dean concluded his speech, and a long moment of silence passed between them.
“Rome?”
“Yeah,” he said, crossing his arms.
She was giving him a beyond hopeful expression.
“I was thinking that maybe we could pick out our electives together? I could even point out a few beginner courses you might like.”
Rome wasn’t sure he had the heart to tell her he had no intention of staying. Unfortunately, the look on his face said it all.
“I’m sorry. Please just forget I mentioned it.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to.”
<
br /> “…What is it then?” she asked.
“Look at me. I stick out like a sore thumb. I’m not fooling anybody with this uniform. The simple fact is, I don’t belong here, and I don’t have magic. Sooner or later they’re going to figure that out. So why get attached to something I know I can’t have?”
“You fooled me,” she said quietly.
Way to make me feel guilty, he thought.
“I could stay, just to help you pick out your classes?”
“No. That’s alright.”
Rome sighed. “For what it’s worth, it was nice meeting you.”
“…You too.”
He stood to leave, and Aria panicked.
“Wait,” she said, rising to her feet as he tried to move past. They ended up toe to toe, staring awkwardly into each other’s eyes. “Um,” she stammered. “You should give Vardel a chance, before you make up your mind. You might be surprised.”
“If there’s one thing I’ve had enough of in my life, its surprises.” Rome slipped past her and out of the building. He couldn’t help but wonder what he’d been thinking. Responding to that scholarship letter had to have been one of the worst ideas he’d ever had. Ariahna was the only reason he’d even considered staying after that fiasco in the Dean’s office. But who was he kidding? A girl like that—he’d have a better chance at winning the lottery.
“Rome,” Aria called, jogging after him. “If you’re leaving anyways, could you maybe give me a ride into town?”
“…Sure. Just meet me by the parking lot.”
She nodded happily as he headed for the school.
It felt eerily familiar, watching him walk away.
Aria perched on the edge of the curb beside the east entrance, staring out across the parking lot. It was quiet. All of the students were still in the auditorium, probably picking out classes and talking with friends. And she was outside, alone, waiting for a boy who was about to run away from who he was. She was trying to think up excuses, convincing reasons for him to stay. It was selfish, but after what happened, after that one encounter with him today, she’d just thought that maybe she wouldn’t have to start the school year out completely alone. She sighed, closing her eyes and bowing her head. Her hair swept down around her face, hiding her away from the rest of the world. It was fine, she tried to reassure herself. After all, she was used to being alone.