St Mary's Academy Series Box Set 1

by Seven Steps

  Joking? They were joking? Well, I could joke too.

  I stood, grabbed two big clods of dirt, and threw them. I hit Able square in the face, but at the last second, Ollie ducked out of the way.

  “I thought I’d have to cut off my arm!” I cried, picking up another dirt clod and chasing him around the room with it. His laughter echoed off the walls. After a while, mine did too. I finally cornered him near the squash and held my clod high, ready to strike.

  He put his hands up defensively. He’d finally stopped laughing. In fact, he looked a little nervous.

  “You don’t want to do that, Princess.”

  “Sure I do. You made me think I was touching cow poop. For that, you must die.”

  “If you throw it, I’ll be forced to defend myself.”

  “Well, defend yourself against this.”

  I let go of the dirt clod, hurling it to him with all of my strength.

  Somehow, within the span of a second, he was behind me, holding me to him from behind. Then, he swung us around, bringing me face-to-face with a tray of dirt.

  “I told you I’d defend myself,” he said.

  I placed my hand on the table to balance myself and to give me some backward thrust. We were still playing. His voice was full of glee while I tried to hold in my laughter.

  “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn’t. Have you ever had a face full of dirt, Princess?”

  “No. Please.”

  His lips came close to my ear, making me shiver. “What can you offer me for your safety?”

  “What?”

  “You’re my prisoner. What will you trade that pretty little face for?”

  My heart lurched within me. Our game had just gotten a little more serious.

  “What do you want?” I asked.

  “I want to finish the conversation we started in the warehouse.”

  The memory rose sharp. His forehead on mine. The curve of his lips. The warmth and strength of his body. The tightness in my lungs. The question he’d asked.

  I swallowed.

  “No.”

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Well, then, say hello to Mr. Dirt.”

  He gently pushed me down.

  “No!” I screamed. “There must be something else you want.”

  “Hm… maybe. How well can you dance?”

  Dance? “Um… kind of okay, I guess.”

  He stilled, then released me. I stood, rubbing my sore arms. That was the most workout they’d gotten in, well, ever.

  “Able, the Princess has agreed to a dance.”

  They exchanged some words in their language, and I turned around, trying to see if any of the words sounded like English.

  They didn’t.

  A few moments later, soft music began to play from the speakers.

  The clouds overhead thickened, dropping the hothouse into near darkness.

  Ollie stepped back, smiled at me, then executed a perfect bow.

  Where did he learn to do that?

  “May I have this dance, Princess?”

  Did it just get hotter in here?

  I wiped my dirty palms on my jeans, then executed a clumsy curtsy.

  But Ollie didn’t make fun of me for it. He simply extended his hand.

  My breath caught as I placed my hand in his and he pulled me toward him. When we were close enough, he placed his right arm around me, his fingers barely touching my shoulder blade. My left arm rested on top of his, lying gently on his shoulder. My right hand clasped his left.

  “Let me lead,” he said.

  Then, he stepped one foot toward me. My only options were to stand there and have us tumble to the floor or to step back, so I stepped back. He stepped with the opposite foot, and I followed suit.

  Soon, we were moving around the floor, maneuvering through the rows of plants and vegetables. Ollie was a strong, confident partner, never faltering in his steps, even when I moved the wrong foot or stumbled. We simply picked back up the count and kept dancing.

  It was wonderful.

  And the entire time, his eyes never left mine. A soft smile settled onto his face. It made me smile too.

  Gazing into Ollie’s dark eyes was intoxicating. It made me stand a little taller. My steps grew more sure. His grip on me tightened, shrinking the space between us.

  It felt like I was flying. Like the floor had disappeared and we were soaring through an endless sky, seeing new worlds and undiscovered horizons for the very first time.

  It was thrilling and wonderful.

  And I was sharing it with Ollie.

  The boy I found myself wanting.

  The boy I wasn’t supposed to want.

  I closed my eyes, trying to still my racing heart. Trying to get my breathing under control. Trying to gather my riotous emotions.

  “Open your eyes, Princess,” he whispered.

  I obeyed, slowly opening my eyes and falling back into Ollie’s dark, beautiful gaze.

  His lips lifted in a dazzling smile that took my breath away. He examined me, taking in every detail. My cheeks heated, but I didn’t hide from him. I wasn’t sure I could even if I wanted to.

  When he’d completed his inspection, he pulled me closer and looked deep into my eyes.

  He sighed. “You’re so beautiful. It breaks my heart.”

  I froze. My feet stopped moving. I could only stare into Ollie’s beautiful eyes, unable to speak.

  He cupped my cheeks between his large palms.

  “It’s like when Icarus flew too close to the sun. My wings are melting, but I can’t stop myself from trying to get a little bit farther.”

  My knees weakened. I’m sure they would have buckled if he hadn’t been holding me.

  “He’s a lucky fool,” he whispered.

  My brain turned to mush. I didn’t even know who he was talking about. There was no one else. There was only me and Ollie. Standing in this hothouse. His hands on me, and me drowning in his dark eyes. There was only soft lights and music and him breathing out and me breathing in.

  There was only us.

  All I wanted was us.

  He sighed against my forehead and let me go, and it took everything I had in me to not call him back and wrap myself back in his heat.

  When did this happen?

  When did I fall for Oliver Santiago?

  I watched in quiet hysteria as Ollie grabbed his coat and walked out of the hothouse without a backward glance at me.

  Why did it feel like he’d take a piece of my heart with him?

  45

  It was his eyes.

  Those black, beautiful pools that so often overwhelmed me.

  I couldn’t get those eyes out of my head.

  They haunted me.

  And now, they haunted my canvas.

  I took a step back from my latest creation, taking it in.

  A pair of dark eyes stared back at me from within a tangle of green vines, oranges leaves, and yellow rays of sunshine.

  It was supposed to be a portrait, but somewhere along the way it had become wild. Taken on its own shapes and portents.

  This was how I saw Ollie. Wild. Intense. A hungry leopard that sometimes looked at me with such a penetrating concentration it made my head spin.

  And yet, there was a soft side. The tiny white flowers blowing through the painting. Symbols of a gentleness and beauty. The way he held me. The way he came to my rescue. The way he could guide me without words.

  I liked those pieces of him too.

  But the questions still hung over me.

  What would my parents say?

  What would happen if we got caught graffitiing?

  Would he make me a criminal too?

  Technically, I was a criminal now. I’d already tagged a highway sign and three buildings and gotten chased by the police. If they’d caught me, I would’ve been in jail right now.

  I couldn’t risk going to jail and having a record.

  But,
somehow, I couldn’t risk not taking Ollie’s lessons either.

  What should I do? I was in a bind and I had no one to turn to.

  My parents would definitely tell me to stay away from Ollie and ground me for life.

  My friends would never understand how I could go from someone like Andrew to someone like Ollie.

  I definitely could not tell Mrs. Meredith.

  That left me alone, questioning how long it would be until our time came to an end. Once the mural was completed, Ollie would have no more reason to hang out with me. I would be done with the RATZ. Done with the danger. The excitement. The thrill.

  The thought of losing all that made my stomach sick.

  I didn’t want to not be around Ollie and the RATZ.

  But I couldn’t risk ending up in a jail cell either.

  I blew out a breath and took a picture of my latest creation.

  I’d show it to Mrs. Meredith tomorrow. I wondered if she’d like it or not. It was such a far cry from my usual landscapes and flowers. This was reckless. Like how I was feeling inside.

  I stood, stretched my back, and walked out of my paint studio. Then I climbed into bed and petted Raja sleeping next to me. I close my eyes, not at all surprised to see a pair of intense dark eyes.

  Watching me in my dreams.

  46

  My gut had been tight all morning. Anxiety about seeing Ollie blasted through me.

  We had such a crazy day yesterday. What would he say to me today? Would he know I had dreamed about him? Would he know I’d painted him?

  I didn’t want him to know those things. They were too embarrassing.

  I wanted us to be normal, but I was afraid my wayward emotions were bubbling to the surface. I wondered how long I’d be able to hide them.

  To keep my mind occupied, I threw myself into our project, sketching out me at twenty-five. I drew a series of straight lines in a heart shape. My goal was to keep with the heart theme and make the paintbrushes form the heart. I’d have to figure out how to bridge that drawing with the cracked heart, but I figured I’d do that later.

  My entire body was on edge and I felt, rather than saw, Ollie walk into the classroom. I scooted down into my seat and brought my sketchpad up a little higher.

  I know. It was stupid and childish. Besides, I was too big to hide behind a sketchpad. Still, I didn’t want him to see my face and look into my eyes because then he’d know my secrets. And I did not want him to know my secrets.

  His desk screeched as he moved it next to mine, but I still didn’t flinch.

  Maybe if he thought I was so into my drawing that I didn’t hear him come in, he’d leave me alone.

  Maybe if he left me alone, these feelings would go away.

  Maybe…

  A white sheet of paper slid down my sketchpad.

  I looked over the picture.

  It was of a big elephant trembling as it hid behind a book. On the other side of the book was a small mouse ready to pounce.

  Beneath the picture were the words, I promise I don’t bite.

  A few giggles escaped at the ridiculous picture. Then, four fingers gently pushed my sketchpad down, and my heart seized up again.

  I didn’t want to look at Ollie.

  If I did he’d know everything.

  So, I kept my eyes down. Like a coward.

  I was a coward. How else could I explain why I was hiding from Ollie?

  “I called you an elephant and you weren’t even offended,” he said. “That’s not the Princess I know.”

  I picked up my pencil and half-heartedly worked on my paintbrushes.

  “Really? I thought you were calling yourself a mouse.”

  “That too.” He was silent for a minute. “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you looking at me?”

  I swallowed. “I’m drawing.”

  “Barely.”

  “I’m trying to finish my project.”

  “It’s a two-person project. How are we supposed to finish the project without us looking at each other?”

  “Did you do your drawings?”

  “Yes.”

  “Great. We’re ahead of schedule then.”

  “Don’t you want to see them?”

  “Sure.”

  I expected him to slide the papers over, but he didn’t. From my peripheral vision, I saw him dangling two sheets of paper in front of him.

  Crap.

  I’d been caught in my own trap.

  Now I had to look at him.

  I took in a small breath.

  I could do this. I could look at Ollie and be normal.

  I looked at his drawings, or what he purported were his drawings. In actuality they were two halves of a smiley face, which he pulled apart to reveal his own dazzling smile.

  “You lied,” I said.

  “Yes, but now you’re going to stop being weird and we’re going to work on this project together.”

  “I’m not being weird.”

  “You were trying to ignore me. That’s weird.”

  I stuck out my tongue at him, and he did the same.

  Then, I saw his eyes. The same dark depths that had stayed on my mind since yesterday.

  His olive skin was clean and blemish free. His brows looked shaped today, and his shaggy hair was now controlled in a man bun atop his head. There was a light sprinkling of stubble, but it looked purposeful. He wore a clean, white, short-sleeved T-shirt today with a blue sweater and dark jeans and his cuff was back on his wrist, covering his RATZ tattoo.

  He looked like a bad boy who was on the road of cleaning up his life.

  I wondered if that was the case.

  “See,” he said. “Not so bad to look at, right?”

  I nodded. At least I thought I nodded. I wasn’t sure. I was too busy staring. Oh God, I was staring.

  Look away before he notices!

  I quickly pulled my eyes to the front of the classroom, trying my best to keep myself calm.

  “You’re doing it again,” he said.

  “Doing what?”

  “Being weird.”

  “I’m not being weird.”

  “Is this about Andrew?”

  I scoffed. I hadn’t thought of Andrew since we broke up.

  “No. Definitely not.”

  He was quiet for a moment.

  “Are things going okay?”

  I sat up a little straighter in my chair and hunched over my sketchbook.

  “Things are going fine.”

  Especially since I wasn’t speaking to him.

  Then I felt bad. I was doing to Ollie exactly what I did to Andrew. I was lying.

  Yes, it was in self-preservation, but I was still lying all the same.

  I’d promised myself I wouldn’t lie anymore, but I knew I’d have to. Because if I stopped lying then everything would change. There would be nothing between Ollie and me.

  And I needed there to be something between us.

  I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to resist him on my own.

  “You know, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here for you.”

  I bit the inside of my cheek and shook my head. Ollie was the last person I could talk to about this. The very last person.

  But I thanked him anyway.

  We went the rest of the period without speaking.

  When class was over, I practically ran out.

  I didn’t show Mrs. Meredith my picture.

  I didn’t even say goodbye.

  Yup, I was a coward. But at least I hadn’t given in to Ollie.

  Score one for me.

  47

  The roar in the auditorium was deafening. The entire senior and junior class had been pulled out of first period to attend what was called a very special assembly. This assembly would be repeated for the freshmen and sophomores toward the end of the day.

  No one knew what a very special assembly meant. The last time we’d had one was earlier in the school year, when Stephanie Pleasant overdosed and the entire school was lecture
d on the dangers of drugs.

  I sat in the middle of my friends. Bella, Cole, Ariel, and Eric were to my right, while Sophia and Purity were on my left. I spied Ollie, Jean, Able, and Jeff a few seats down the row from me.

  Mr. Mann stood behind an oak podium in the middle of the auditorium stage. Behind him, a bright yellow curtain was pulled shut. Next to him, a thin, stern looking cop with a graying moustache sat in a chair, along with the vice principal and all four deans.

  “Students, let’s come to order.”

  We all quieted down, anxious to hear what this unexpected bump in our day was about.

  “As you know, this school, as well as several of the surrounding buildings have been targeted by a group of vandals who call themselves the RATZ. These vandals are not only perpetrating criminal activity, but they are jeopardizing the safety of our community. Today, we are honored to have with us Police Commissioner Brian Walden, who will be talking to you about this new task force and how it is working to keep our community safe. Commissioner Walden, you have our attention.”

  Police Commissioner? Anti-graffiti task force?

  My stomach dropped, and I looked at Ollie. His eyes were wide in surprise and worry. If Ollie was worried, we were in for some big trouble.

  “Good morning, boys and girls. My name is Commissioner Walden and, as Mr. Mann said, I am here to talk to you about our new anti-graffiti task force. You may have heard the mayor on television talking about this as well. The anti-graffiti task force is part of an ongoing effort to improve the quality of life here in New York City. Graffiti is something for which this administration, and the NYPD, have zero tolerance for. It is a crime, and an open door to increasingly dangerous criminal behavior.”

  The pit in my gut doubled in size.

  “Graffiti is not a victimless crime. It has touched each and every one of you. It has violated something you hold dear: your place of learning. But we at the NYPD are going to change that. How? Through increased police presence. Infrared cameras in graffiti hot spots. A database that tracks vandalism pattern and repeat offenders. And a five-hundred-dollar reward for information leading to the arrest of any of these vandals.”

  My heart beat hard. More police? Cameras? What if they had already seen us? What if we were already on some list to track down? Was that why the police commissioner was here? To make an example out of us?