“It was an accident,” I state. “You know how sometimes you say something in your head and then it slips out of your mouth? Well, that’s what happened.”
“Mhmm, I like the story where you told Mrs. Williams that you couldn’t focus because her titties were clapping.”
“Got dammit! Why didn’t I think of think of that?”
“Clearly you aren’t creative enough,” I snap.
“Don’t challenge me.”
“Helloooo, earth to Ren! There you go, getting lost in your own world again.”
“Sorry, girl. You know damn well I didn’t do anything like that.”
“Yeah, well, that sucks,” she says, brushing a brown curl behind her ear. The first warning bell rings before she can comment further, and I know I’ll have to fill her in on everything at lunch. “Oh! Before I go, you heard about the new meat on campus?”
“Nope,” I lie quickly. “Guess you’ll have to tell me all about it at lunch.”
“You damn right I will. See you in a couple of hours!”
We wave goodbye, going in different directions. There’s only this class left until lunch, and I’m kind of looking forward to telling her all about Zavid.
“All about? Shit, you barely even got his name. No thanks to you.”
“I was struck confused. Cut me some slack.”
“When have I ever been known to do that?”
“Point taken.”
I slip into my physics class just as the final bell rings and almost tear my ACL with how sudden my body stopped and turned around.
“Miss Harrington! We don’t have all day,” Mr. Henderson calls out. Damn it and damn him. I spin back around, giving an apologetic smile to Mr. Henderson as I head to my desk in the back right corner of the room. I ease into my seat, forcing myself not to glance at the desk to my right. So, two classes so far. This better not be a pattern.
“Did I do something?” his deep voice murmurs. “Or are your fingernails so interesting that you can’t spare me a glance?”
With a deep exhale, I turn my attention to Zavid. He obviously still looks as delectable as he did when I first met him, and my body’s immediate reaction to looking at him is kind of unnerving. The way he’s slouched in his seat, legs open and posture relaxed. Damn.
“Who knew you had a libido? Or should we say libid-ho?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“You forgot to add ‘yet’.”
“Hello, Zavid. Fancy you have two of my classes. Strange.”
“You haven’t even seen strange yet,” he says.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
He doesn’t bother answering me. His kissable lips pull up into a smirk and his focus turns from me to Mr. Henderson.
“Beat the answer out of him.”
I pull out my notebook, forcing myself to give my full attention to the subject matter at hand. “That’s not how normal relationships go.”
“Who wants normal? With your new libido, I’m sure a little BDSM is in your ballpark.”
I spend the rest of the class period ignoring the tension that’s thrumming through my body. Between the voice in my head and the dark and mysterious stranger next to me, I’m surprised I didn’t jump up screaming by now.
Finally, the bell rings, signaling my freedom from this stifling environment. I can’t tell you what we learned today, but I can tell you that I’m definitely in need of my new therapy sessions with Miss Claire. This attraction can’t be sane, nor normal, and it seems like it’s only one way.
Before I can get three feet down the hallway,I feel strong arms wrap around my waist, dragging me back against a wall of muscle. I tense for a second, wondering what the hell has gotten into him and how I even knew who “him” was.
“Where are you going in such a rush?” he whispers, his warm breath feathering against my ear. I shiver, trying to control the sudden onslaught of feelings rushing through my body. This close to him, the delicious aroma floating from his person caresses my nose, and I just can’t help but to lean back into him, hoping to cover myself in his scent. It’s almost as if he doused himself in sensuality and strength.
“What the fuck? Cover yourself in his scent? What’s going on right now?”
“Shit, at this point I have no idea,” I retort.
“I’m heading to lunch,” I respond out loud.
“May I accompany you?” he asks while skimming his nose down my neck.
“Ren! What the hell, girl? We’re fucking in the hallway now?” Cymone blurts out.
I jump out of Zavid’s arms. Looking around, I can see that we’ve made a spectacle of ourselves. How the hell did I forget that I was in a busy hallway in a high school? I can feel my face burning, and I’m lucky that no one can see the blush gracing my cheeks. Sheepishly glancing at my best friend, I could only offer her up a weak shrug.
“Oh, no. We have to talk.” She grabs me by my arm and drags me away from Zavid and his tempting scent. “Bye, Sexy. I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around,” she calls over her shoulder.
I smack her on the head, mortified by her bold worlds. She laughs, waving me off and dragging me to our next class. My little moment with Zavid caused us to be a little late, but I didn’t mind standing in line. I let Cymone jabber away about the “sexy snacks” walking around the campus, and I had to finally tune in to what she was saying.
“Wait, snacks? As in more than one?” I ask.
“I’m not shocked that that’s what you would focus on. But what I am shocked about is that you didn’t notice them walking around like the three greek gods that they are.”
“Three?!”
We set our trays down at our table and sit down on the too-small oval seats. Whispers from the students float in the air, reaching my ears too faintly for me to pick up on what they’re saying. I look around, half expecting everyone to be pointing and looking at me. The rumor mill is still churning with the whole Mrs. Williams incident. What I didn’t expect was to look up and see Zavid walk into the cafeteria with two equally-as-fine friends.
“Yes, girl, three,” Cymone mutters, looking like she’s barely keeping it together as she gazes at the sin that’s standing there as if they planned this dramatic entrance.
“I have a bad feeling about this,” It mutters.
“When did you ever have a bad feeling about anything?”
“When you started contemplating polygamy.”
“Ren, mind telling me why they’re walking this way?” Cymone says.
Shit, she’s right. They’re coming right to our table. I feign looking around, trying to hint at Zavid that there are plenty of empty tables around for him and his fine ass friends to sit. But does he listen to me? No. Instead, he licks those lips of his and offers me the most shit eating grin I have ever seen.
“Renee,” he purrs. “May we join you for lunch?”
“Tell him no.”
“And who is ‘we’?” I ask instead.
“Forgive me. These are my brothers, Caylen and Titus. May we, as in us three, sit with you?” he asks, a sarcastic lilt coloring his tone.
I take my time appraising the newcomers. I honestly don’t know which is Caylen and which is Titus, but it doesn’t even matter. The one on his left stands a few inches shorter than Zavid, probably about six foot, six foot one at the most. He’s also slimmer, but I can tell that it doesn’t mean that he’s not equally as strong as Zavid. Light freckles dusts his cheeks and nose, and I know that the only reason I noticed it is because I’m staring at him so hard. His dark hair is cropped close to his head, only being slightly longer on the top. My eyes land on his, and I can hear my gasp in my ears. His eyes are such a dark blue, it reminds me of the ocean right before a storm.
I quickly jerk my eyes away from him, choosing to appraise the third member of their group. I wish I knew which was which, that would make this moment just a tad bit more special.
The last guy stands easily over six foot five and he’s built as if he chews
bricks for breakfast. His intimidating stature doesn’t take away from the beauty that is his face. I’m captivated by the gentleness that’s in the depth of his grey eyes. The contrast of those grey orbs against his dark skin is so striking, I find myself falling into them. The desire to reach out to him and let him hold me overcomes me with such strength that I found myself leaning closer to him. What the fuck?
“My thoughts exactly.”
So… Zavid is the normal looking one out of the three. I thought I had my hands full with just him, but it seems I was wrong. Lucky me.
“Excuse my friend. She tends to get lost in her head at least a hundred times a day. Of course you all can sit with us,” Cymone chimes in, saving me from further embarrassing myself. I feel my face burning again, mortification settling deep into my bones as I pull my eyes away from Grey Eyes.
“So,” I start, clearing my throat as they took the seats in front of us. “Who is who?”
“I am Caylen,” Blue Eyes says. His lips pull up into the cutest boyish smirk I’ve ever seen and, if I knew what swooning looked like, I’m sure I was doing it. It’s like his voice had the ability to caress my insides.
“You disgust me.”
“Shut up.”
I take a quick sip of my bottled water, when Titus opens his mouth and shatters any illusions I had of him.
“And I am Titus,” his high pitched voice says. I spit my water up, promptly spraying the guys. I’m thrown into a coughing fit, trying to dislodge some of the water that went down the wrong pipe.
“Wow. He sounds like you did before puberty hit!”
What the hell? I turn wide eyes on Cymone and she stares back. There’s no way that little voice belonged to that mountain of a man. I look at Titus, seeing the deep frown that’s on his face. Oops. That was probably mean and rude as hell. But who could blame me?! I was caught off guard!
“I’m so sorry. That was so rude of me,” I begin, grabbing a bunch of napkins and handing them over to the guys. A thick awkward silence descends on our group and I’m wracking my mind with how I can fix this. I open my mouth, trying to find the words to make this a little bit better, but before I can spit out another round of pointless apologies, Titus’ deep laughter cuts me off. If I had water in my mouth, I probably would have spit it out again. How the hell is his speaking voice so high pitched but his laughter is so deep and masculine?
My face must show my shock and confusion because Zavid and Caylen joins in on the laughter, drawing the attention of the whole cafeteria to our table. I look to Cymone for answers, but all she has to offer is a slight shrug.
“I am sorry, Renee, but I could not pass up the chance,” Titus speaks, and I nearly pass out from the sensuality gracing his words. It’s as if Thor gave him his voice. I can feel my tongue drying, and that’s the only clue that I have that my mouth is wide the fuck open.
“Have some dignity, for crying out loud.”
“Wow,” I stutter. “I was not expecting that.” The nervous laughter that follows my words is tinged with hysteria and I feel like I’m three-seconds from losing my mind. Can you die from stimuli overload? All that’s missing is taste and touch and I’m sure I’ll be dead.
“So,” Cymone cuts in. “Where are you guys from?”
Good question. I turn my eyes to Zavid, assuming that he’s the leader of this little trio.
“We are from… San Francisco,” he slowly answers.
“You noticed that pause?” It asks.
“Of course I noticed the fucking pause. I’m not deaf.”
“Nope. Just dumb.”
“What brings you to this small town in Florida?” I ask suspiciously.
“Our dad got transferred here for his job.” There it was again. Brothers? Call me skeptical, but there’s no way they are brothers. Not by blood at least. The skepticism must have shown on my face, because all of their faces harden and their postures become rigid.
“We are brothers in all the ways that count and in the only ways that matter,” Caylen spits out. An angry blush creeps up his neck and his fist clenches on the table. Oookay, I don’t have to be a genius to know a sensitive topic when I see one.
“Anyway, you guys won’t have as many things to do here, but welcome to Spring Hill,” I say. My lame attempt didn’t really lighten up the atmosphere, but I toss Caylen a timid smile anyway. After a few seconds of staring into each other’s eyes, he finally seems to relax a little bit.
The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch and I realize that I haven’t had a chance to really eat my food. There’s no way I’m going to survive the rest of school without getting something in my system. I glance at the three gods across from me and shrug my shoulders. Fuck it. I’m not about to starve because of appearances. Mind made up, I dig into my chicken Alfredo; inhaling it as if I’ll never get another meal.
“Damn, Ren, you can always buy food from the vending machines,” Cymone stage whispers.
I shrug while washing down my meal with the rest of my water. I hop up when I’m finished, waving goodbye to the stunned males and grabbing my best friend by her arm. I can already tell, those boys are going to be the death of me.
3
Renee
I have never been more excited for our free study period than I was today. Since I haven’t been sleeping a lot lately, thanks to it, I’ve had plenty of time to get ahead in all of my classes, leaving me this period to just do with it what I want. And what I want right now is to get the hell off of this campus.
“Let’s head to Chick-fil-a,” I say to Cymone.
“What? Why? You can’t be hungry after you just viciously stuffed your face less than three minutes ago,” she says.
“I need to get off of the campus. I feel like it’s overcrowded all of a sudden.”
“Mhmm,” she replies, mischief lurking in her eyes. “I guess three is a crowd. Isn’t that what they say?”
“This isn’t about them,” I argue, stopping in front of my locker to dump my bag off. I won’t be needing it for the rest of the day anyway.
“You sure about that?” she asks.
“Yeah, why?”
“Because we have a company,” she says, nodding to something behind me, or as it turns out, someone. I turn around and, standing behind me, is Caylen. Being this close to him allows me to smell the tantalizing aroma that’s wafting off of him. Almost like pinewood and sex. What’s with these guys and smelling so good?
“Oh wow, they know what soap and water is. Let’s marry them right now.”
“Shut up. I can admire their scent.”
“More like drool over it. By the way, he’s talking. Better pay attention or you’re going to look like an insipid moron.”
“Did you hear me, Renee?” Caylen asks.
“No, I’m sorry. What were you saying?”
“I was saying that I’m sorry for how I reacted earlier in the cafeteria. I can’t help but feel like your sudden departure from the table was because of the way I behaved and I feel terrible about it.”
“No no, it’s fine. I just wanted to get to my favorite table in the library before someone takes it,” I lie.
“Well, I would still like the chance to make it up to you, if that’s all right with you?”
“Well-.”
“Well,” Cymone, who was completely forgotten until now, cuts me off. “She was just saying how she wanted to spend her free period at Chick-fil-a. Turns out she didn’t get enough food in her.”
“Are you sure?” Caylen asks. His face is a mask of confusion as he’s probably replaying the savage way I destroyed my lunch right in front of his eyes.
“Yup,” I respond, exaggeratedly popping the “p”. “I could go for one of their milkshakes.”
“It’s settled then,” Cymone add in. “You two go on to get those milkshakes and I’ll head to the library to finish up on my essay. We all can’t be A+ students like you, Ren.”
“Wait, what?” I desperately ask. “Aren’t you going to come with me?�
�
“Nope. See you around, girl!” She dashes down the hall towards the library faster than I thought was possible. What kind of best friend would abandon me to the wolves like this? She’s definitely going to hear an earful when I get her alone.
“Shall we?” Caylen asks, that boyish smirk gracing his lips once again. Ah hell.
“Yeah, let’s go,” I reply. We walk to the parking lot in tense silence. Or maybe it’s companionable silence, but in my head it’s tense.
“It’s definitely tense. Better break it by spewing nonsense.”
“Hey, it’s totally ok if you don’t want to do this. You don’t owe me anything. Really.”
“It’s no problem. I actually want to do this. So, who’s driving?” he asks.
We step out onto the sidewalk that leads us to the parking lot and my breath escapes me for a second. The light bounces off of his dark hair, showing the smallest traces of light brown amongst his dark locks. His blue eyes sparkle dangerously, as if he’s in on a secret that I would be honored to know about. Among closer inspection, I can see the white flecks interspersed throughout the blue. It’s as if he has the entire sky in his eyes.
“Renee? Helloooo, which car?”
“Oh, um, you can drive, I guess.”
“You really do get lost in your head. You’ll have to find a way to get over that, or it’ll cost you your life,” he mutters to himself.
“Excuse me?” I screech to halt, not really knowing what to do.
“Well, what if you get lost in your head in the middle of the road? You’d end up getting hit by a car,” he replies quickly, though by the way he’s avoiding making eye contact with me, I don’t know if I completely believe him.
“He’s definitely lying,” It says.
“How do you know?”
“Because I’d lie in this situation.”
“Not everyone is as bad as you.”
“Which is a damn shame.”
“Um, alright?” I respond out loud. “So which car is yours?”
“It’s the red one over there,” he replies while pointing to a souped up Dodge Charger. There’s no way we’re going to be able to sneak off campus in that thing.
The Inner Self: The Prophecy Page 2