by Gemma Weir
“God, Mom. You’re an American citizen. You need to start acting like it. Coffee is what this nation was built on.”
Mom laughs, topping up her mug. “Go to school; your brothers already left.”
Sighing, I grab my purse and lift it onto my shoulder. “Bye.”
“Bye, honey, love you.”
“Love you too,” I say, pushing open the front door and heading for my car.
I was hoping to convince Mom to let me stay at home again today, so I never told Emmy I was going to pick her up. When I pull into the school parking lot on my own, I park my car in its usual space and kill the engine. The bell is just about to ring and I’m grateful to find the lot almost empty, except for a few stragglers who are also running late.
Bypassing my locker, I head straight for homeroom, imbibing each of my steps with a confidence I don’t feel. By the time I enter the classroom, my bitchy mask is firmly back in place and I strut through the desks, reaching my seat and sliding into it. I avoid Valentine’s gaze, my eyes refusing to look at him. A couple of people turn around to look at me, but I raise an imperious brow at them, and they rush to look the other way again.
“Hey,” Brit says.
“Hey.”
“You better? School has been so fucking boring without you. Phoebe and Caroline have been fighting over Valentine the whole time you’ve been off, but he hasn’t even glanced at them. I totally thought he was into me after he had me sit on his lap on Tuesday, but five minutes after he called me over, he dropped me on my ass and took off. He’s been ignoring me since then and he’s hot property now. Every girl in the school is trying to snag him. Did you hear that Eloise Kennedy is throwing a party this weekend? Do you remember the last party she had? CRAZY,” Brit shrieks and I can’t help but smile at her.
Brit might be as shallow and bitchy as I pretend to be, but I just can’t help but like her. We’ve been friends since middle school and as I settle in and listen to her inane chatter about everything that’s happened in the last couple of days, I can’t help but be grateful to have her in my life.
The moment I walk into art, I groan in frustration. For the first time since homeroom I’m stuck in the same room as Valentine. His huge body is leant over a desk at the back of the room, his elbows resting on the wood. Ignoring him, I cross to my usual desk on the other side of the room and pull out my art supplies.
When the stool next to me scrapes, I look up, expecting to see Griffin, but instead I’m greeted by Valentine’s mocking smile. “That seat’s taken,” I tell him in my most disinterested tone.
“Mr. Butterson said with it being the first class of the year, I could sit wherever I wanted and this is where I want to sit,” Valentine drawls.
Sliding down from my stool, I reach for my purse.
“What are you doing?” He snaps.
“Moving,” I snap back. “If we can sit anywhere we want, then I’m moving somewhere away from you. Griff and I always sit together in art.”
His fingers encircle my arm and he grips me tightly. “Sit your ass back down, Princess. Griff isn’t in this class,” he hisses against my ear, his lips so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin.
My eyes fall to where his fingers are holding me. “Let me go.”
“Sit down,” he snarls this time. “Unless you want me to start shouting about how you dragged me into your bedroom the other night and flashed your tits at me.”
I laugh. “Tell people whatever you want.”
His grip on my arms tightens again and a surge of pain bursts to life where his fingers are digging into my skin. “You’re hurting me,” I tell him, looking into his eyes.
“Then sit back down and I’ll let you go,” he retorts, not backing down.
Huffing, I drop my purse back to the floor and hoist myself back onto my stool, glaring at Valentine the whole time.
“Look at that,” Valentine snarls, releasing my arm. “You actually do understand basic English. I’m impressed.”
“What the hell is your problem?” I ask, a little louder than I should. “I get it. You don’t like girls like me. I thought we agreed to stay away from each other? So let’s do that. You stay away from me and I’ll stay the fuck away from you.”
Valentine smiles; a dangerous, predatory leer. “But what would be the fun in that, Princess?”
Forty minutes later, I can still feel the goose bumps on my skin from the way he looked at me. To make matters worse, Mr. Butterson tells us that our whole year topic will be portraits and that we’ll be working with a partner on a series of projects that will all go toward our final grade. Of course our assigned partners would end up being the person sat next to us.
At the end of class, I wait for the rest of the kids to file out of the classroom before I approach the teacher’s desk. “Excuse me, Mr. Butterson?”
The balding, fifty-something man, wearing Jesus sandals and acid-washed jeans turns to look at me, a smile on his lips. “Nova, what can I do for you?”
“Err I was wondering if.” My words are cut off when a heavy arm lands across my shoulders and fingers curl up the side of my neck.
“Hey, babe. Just ‘cause you’re pissed at me, doesn’t mean you should behave like a child and try to get assigned to another partner for this project. Especially when you know you’ll just ask to be switched back once we make up properly later.” Valentine says, lacing his voice with amused exasperation.
“What, no,” I say, twisting to try to get away from his touch.
I feel him tense and his fingers that are wrapped around the back of my neck tighten enough to silence me, but not actually hurt.
“There will be no partner changes Miss Stubbs. I suggest you resolve whatever caused this lovers tiff, sooner rather than later.” Mr. Butterson dismisses us, turning his back to search for something in the cabinet behind his desk.
“Princess, let’s go,” Valentine says through gritted teeth.
Wrenching myself away from his arm, I turn and hiss at him. “What are you doing? You don’t want to partner with me for the rest of the year, any more than I do.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” he drawls, stepping toward me and backing me into the bank of lockers. “I think this could be fun. For me at least.”
A tremor runs through me. I don’t know if it’s from fear; or just a reaction to having him this close to me, his chest pushed up against mine, his face only inches away. I look up and his eyes are narrowed, a cruel glint flashing back at me. There’s an amused twitch to his full lips. He knows he’s making me uncomfortable and he’s enjoying it.
I open my mouth to speak, but his finger pushes against my lips, stopping me.
“I see you, Princess. The others don’t, but I do,” he whispers cryptically, then he trails his finger off my lips and down between my breasts, before he turns and walks away, leaving me pressed into the lockers staring after him.
Unable to move, I gape at the corner he just disappeared around. What did he mean? What does he see? Or is he just fucking with me? I know he saw me in the restroom the other day, but there’s no reason for him or anyone else to suspect I was sick for any other reason than the stomach virus I told them it was. He must be fucking with me. This is all a game to him and right now I’m playing straight into his hands.
Lunch takes forever to come, and for the first time ever, I consider skipping the cafeteria and going to eat on my own. After using the food as an excuse for my sickness, Mom packed me a bagged lunch and so the only reason I need to go in there is to sit with my friends.
My friends, the ones who have made no effort to check on me at all while I haven’t been at school for the last three days. Emmy and Griff came or called every day, but the others, not so much as a text.
I make it to the large double doors that lead into the cafeteria and stop, my feet refusing to move any closer. Even with the doors closed, I can still hear the subdued roar of hundreds of kids and my heartbeat quickens. I don’t want to go in there.
I’m moving away before I even decide not to go inside. With one last look at the doors and the kids beyond, I turn and walk away, leaving the cafeteria behind me and heading purposefully for the exit and freedom. I could sit in my car, but the idea of eating in the hot stuffy interior holds absolutely no appeal, so instead I head for the lawn to the side of the building.
The smell of fresh air hits me the moment I push outside, and I instantly know I’ve made the right decision. The sun is shining, I can hear birds chirping, and for the first time in what feels like weeks I feel calm and settled.
Not doing what’s expected of me, not sitting at my usual table with my usual group of friends is liberating. Walking across the lawn, I sit down near a tree and exhale, luxuriating in the freedom of not having to pretend for the first time today.
Valentine rattles me much more than I’m willing to admit and his innocuous threat at the end of art has been circling around in my mind ever since. Pulling my earbuds from my purse, I push them into my cell and press play on my favorite relaxation playlist. Leaning my back against the trunk of the tree I pull out my lunch and take a bite of my sandwich. The peanut butter and jelly coats my mouth in the best way and I sigh happily. Leaning my head back, I close my eyes and eat in perfectly content solitude.
I’m used to being alone in a crowd, surrounded by people but always feeling like I’m the odd man out. Actually choosing to be alone is invigorating, and I feel a smile spread across my lips, my eyes closed and soulful music filling my ears.
When the warmth of the sun fades away, I blink open my eyes and immediately tense. A person is directly above me, blocking out the light. Tipping my head back, I look up into Valentine’s scowling face.
“What the fuck are you doing out here?” he growls, his voice barely audible above the music playing from my cell.
“How is that any of your business?” I snap, annoyed that his appearance has shattered the peace I’d created. I try to ignore him, letting my head fall back against the tree and closing my eyes again.
My peace is snatched from me, when my earbuds are ripped from my ears and the sound of real life replaces my music. “Hey,” I cry, snapping open my eyes and glaring at the asshole in front of me.
Valentine squats down, the cable of my earphones gripped tightly in his hand. “Don’t fucking ignore me. Why aren’t you in the cafeteria?”
“Because I don’t want to be,” I say, forcing a dismissive nonchalance into my voice that I don’t really feel with him only inches from my face.
“Get up,” he demands.
“No.”
“Princess, get the fuck up and get your ass into the cafeteria.”
“No.”
“Your brother is freaking out.”
His words make me freeze. Why would Zeke be freaking out? Ignoring Valentine’s presence, I lift my cell up and call my brother. He answers on the first ring.
“Nova, are you okay? Where are you?” He shouts over the din of the cafeteria.
“I’m fine,” I assure him. “I decided to eat my lunch outside today.”
The background noise quietens, and I imagine he’s moved somewhere more private. “What’s going on? Did you have another moment?”
His voice is full of concern and I feel awful for worrying him. “No, nothing like that,” I say, glancing at Valentine, who hasn’t moved and is still in front of me. “I just didn’t feel like sitting in the cafeteria today.”
“Oh, okay. As long as you’re all right.”
“I am, I promise.”
“Okay, see you later.”
“Bye,” I say, ending the call. Sliding my cell into my purse, I inhale, then allow my eyes to drift to Valentine again. “Zeke’s fine; you can go,” I say dismissively.
Angry, narrowed eyes glare at me, daring me to speak again.
I sigh. “What?”
“Get your ass up and come inside,” he demands, his voice cold.
“Valentine, I appreciate you letting me know that Zeke was worried, but you just listened to me call him. He knows where I am and he’s fine. I think we’ve established that I don’t enjoy your company and you’ve made it obvious that you don’t enjoy mine, so why don’t you go away and leave me to finish my lunch in peace.”
I barely even see him move before he’s on top of me, his legs straddling my thighs, his hand around my neck. Fear; vulnerable, terrified, fear consumes me and I swallow convulsively as his fingers flex around my throat. His hold on me is tight enough to make me think about each breath I take, but not restrictive enough to hurt me or leave a mark. But it’s the stark, volatile look in his eyes that makes my muscles freeze and all of my attention focus on him.
His free hand brushes gently along my cheekbone in a stark contrast to his savage hold on me. “Princess, I know you’re used to people jumping to do whatever you tell them to, but I’m not one of those fucking people. I like your brother and when you didn’t turn up for lunch, he freaked the fuck out. So I’m gonna tell you one last time, get your ass up and let’s go to the cafeteria so he can see you’re okay.”
My breath is coming in ragged gasps, so I nod my head, not capable of anything more. He’s not hurting me, but he could. We’re alone out here. No one’s watching me, no one would see. Just like when he came into my room, I feel exposed and defenseless. Weak. Valentine Miller makes me feel weak and that, combined with the edge of restrained violence I can see in him, frightens me into compliance.
Without another word, his hand drops from my throat and he climbs off me, brushing the dirt from his ripped jeans as he stands to his full height. Silently, I gather my things, shoving what’s left of my lunch back into the bag and lifting my purse to my shoulder, my hands shaking.
He waits for me to move first, then follows a few paces behind me, as I cross the lawn and re-enter the school. I dump my lunch bag into the trashcan as I pass, my appetite gone. Pushing through the double doors into the cafeteria, I spot Zeke at our usual table. Unlike normal, his happy-go-lucky expression is nowhere to be seen, his brow is furrowed and he’s staring at his cell, ignoring everyone else around him.
I walk straight up to the table and sit down in the chair next to his. He spins to look at me, his eyes raking over my face, reading my expression. When he sees I’m okay, he relaxes, the tension leeching from his shoulders. We don’t speak. There’s nothing to say. He drops his arm across my shoulders and I rest my head back against it. I watch him from the corner of my eye and slowly the light returns to his eyes. He becomes more animated and within five minutes he’s chatting loudly to our friends, laughing, happy.
Guilt sits heavy in my stomach. I hadn’t considered how my secrets were affecting Zeke. It isn’t his responsibility to worry about me. He’s my little brother, not my parent. Deciding to try harder to keep my crazy on lockdown, I spend the rest of lunch pretending to be happy, talking to my friends and pointedly ignoring the way Valentine’s eyes stay on me, never looking away.
At the end of the day I head for my car and find Emmy, Zeke, the twins, and Valentine all crowded between mine and Zeke’s cars waiting for me. “Hey,” I say when I reach them.
I hate that Valentine is here. Seeing his cold eyes reminds me of the way his fingers were wrapped around my throat earlier. How easily he could have really hurt me.
I don’t know his history, but if he was truly dangerous, I have to believe that Auntie Brandi and Uncle Sleaze wouldn’t risk the other kids by allowing him to come into their home. What I don’t get is why he only seems to hate me. I’ve seen how he behaves when he’s around my brothers and the other kids in our school. He’s nice, maybe even funny, and they like him. It’s only me he hates; just me he looks at with disgust and revulsion, the way he’s looking at me now.
I
feel a frisson of fear pulse through me and I reach for Emmy, pulling her attention. “Did you drive yourself or get the bus today?”
“I drove myself; my car’s back there,” she says, pointing to a spot further down the lot where her silver Prius is parked.
“Oh, okay. I’m going to go, if you don’t need a ride. I’ve got loads of homework to catch up on from the days I missed. Are you coming over tomorrow?”
“Yeah, I think we’re all coming. Mom mentioned something about a pool party?”
I shrug. “Ok, I’ll text you later.”
She nods and with a distracted wave to the others, I unlock my car, pulling open the door and climbing in. When I reach our driveway, Moms SUV and Dad’s bike are both outside, so I park behind my mom, climb out and make my way to the front door. Pushing it open I shout, “I’m back,” when I don’t immediately spot my parents.
“We’re in the kitchen,” Dad calls.
Dropping my purse at the bottom of the stairs, I kick off my shoes, walk back through the kitchen and straight into my dad’s warm, leather clad chest. His arms immediately wrap around me and I hug him to me, just like I did when I was a little kid.
“Princess.”
His voice is as soothing as his hug is and I sink further into him, needing the comfort only a hug from my daddy can provide.
“You okay?” He asks.
I nod, my cheek pressed against him. His laugh vibrates through his chest and he kisses the top of my head before gently pushing me away. “Go give your momma one of those too. She’s jealous of all the love I’m getting.”
Giggling, I cross the room and throw my arms around my mom’s neck. She immediately hugs me back, her familiar sweet strawberry scent surrounding me. “Love you,” I whisper into her hair.
“Love you too, baby,” she whispers back.
Easing away, I separate myself and cross the room to the refrigerator, pulling open the door and grabbing a can of soda. Cracking the ring pull, I lift it to my lips, taking a drink of the fizzy liquid. As I straighten, I can feel eyes on me and look between my parents who are openly staring at me. “What?” I ask.