Chapter 4 Orion
Orion
The Orion who helped me through that panic doesn’t feel like the same Orion sitting next to me right now.
The bell rang, and Harper gathered her stuff and went out. I watched her go, a strange ache in my chest. A nostalgia for the storage closet. I wished we were back there, locked away from the rest of the bloody school for a hundred more hours. In there, in the dark, I’d felt…
Honest.
My phone buzzed in my jacket pocket. I pulled it out and a grin spread over my face.
“Odin,” I said, heading toward the cafeteria for lunch. “How badly do you miss me? A lot or a whole lot?”
“I cry every day,” my big brother replied, but his voice sounded a little tight under the din of the crowded CHA hallways. “I know you’re in class now, but do you have a minute? It’s about Octavian.”
“Give me a second.”
I exited the nearest door, into the coppery September afternoon and found a bench overlooking the Narragansett Bay, where white-winged sailboats and gleaming yachts cut wakes on the deep-blue water.
“What is it?”
“Don’t mean to alarm you,” Odin said. “I wondered if you’d heard from him lately.”
“Have I communicated with a member of our family?” I said dryly. “It’s not a holiday or birthday. Whyever would I do that?”
“Bloody facts,” Odin agreed.
He and I were the only ones to text or call somewhat regularly, and that meant once a month, if that. It just wasn’t in the Mercer blood to reach out. We’d been trained well to keep to ourselves.
“But why do you ask?”
“He’s acting strangely,” Odin said. “Not at all himself.”
“Drugs?”
“I don’t think so. Maybe. He’s jumpy and flies off the handle at the smallest slight, and that’s not like him.”
“Definitely not,” I said. Our middle brother was a quiet, almost shy fellow. I’d never seen him get upset, even as a wee kid. “But you’re at uni with him while I’m over here. I’m not going to be a good judge.”
“I know. I just wondered if he’d called you and told you something. Anything.”
“No,” I said. “Have Mum or Father noticed a change?”
“I’ll say. Tav demanded Father up his weekly allowance. Threw a fit about it until Father agreed. It was surreal.”
Tension coiled in my stomach. “I hate to say it, but that sounds like drugs.”
“I know, but my gut tells me it’s something else. He doesn’t look strung out and his grades are exceptional as always. Anyway, reach out to him, would you? Check in and see if you can’t pry something loose?”
“Of course.”
“Thanks. Oh, hey, I know it’s early days of senior year, but how are things?”
The usual struggles, headaches, stress. And one girl like a light in a dark cavern…
“Fine,” I said.
“Right. Talk soon.”
We ended the call and I pulled up the text thread with Octavian. To my shame, the last time we’d spoken was back in June.
Hey, Tav. Just checking in.
Too obvious. Octavian was a genius who’d graduated from CHA two years early. I backspaced and tried again.
My roommate is a motorcycle-riding vampire. Did Camby give you a werewolf? Let’s compare.
No answer.
I sighed, put my phone away, and added worry for my brother to the teetering stack of stress, then trudged my way to world history.
Professor Callister was a stiff, no-nonsense teacher with a gray beard and gray suit to match, who—much to my horror—cold-called students to read aloud from the text.
I sat through class, flirting with Tessa Carlyle and pretending I wasn’t about to puke.
This wasn’t history, it was The Hunger Games, and any second now, I’d be called as tribute.
Halfway through class, my number came up.
“Mr. Mercer. Top of page forty-seven, please. Royal Commission on the Employment of Children…”
Shit, bollocks, fuck.
I leaned back in my chair, spinning my pen over my knuckles, and pretended I hadn’t heard him. When the silence stretched, I glanced around. “Sorry, me?”
Callister frowned. “Unless there’s another Orion Mercer in the class?”
“Oh no, Professor. I’m one of a kind.”
The class chuckled appreciatively. Callister sighed. “Page forty-seven.”
“Right.” I looked down at the text and tried to focus. The words danced on the page, and my brain stumbled along, three steps behind.
“The…uh…Confession—sorry, the Commission established…”
Humiliation burned my skin.
Nope. Try again.
My pen spun as I scanned the paragraph for context clues. Seconds ticked by. The silence grew uncomfortable, then excruciating, but I got the gist. Barely.
“Mr. Mercer?”
I tossed my pen down and sat back. “Basically, they made new rules about factory child labor.”
“That’s a summary. Please read—”
“I’m just trying to save us all some time,” I said, beads of sweat rolling down the middle of my back like crawling insects. “Parliament decided toddlers should only work fifteen hours per day. Ten, tops. Certain cell phone factories have yet to get the memo.”
Another round of chuckles from the class and another scowl from Callister.
“Orion, you were tasked with reading what’s printed, not to editorialize it.”
The class was entranced by the standoff, waiting to see how far I could push Callister so early in the year.
Waiting to see what I’d do next. The jokester using his elevated status as prince of the school to fuck around when I wanted to scream.
To run out of the room or slam my head into the desk until my stupid fucking brain just worked.
Just when the silence verged on not being funny at all, Harper cleared her throat and began to read.
“In 1833, the British Parliament established the Factory Commission to investigate the conditions of child labor in textile mills. The resulting Factory Act limited the number of working hours of children and required basic education for those employed therein.”
“Thank you, Ms. Bennett.” Callister fixed me with a stern glare. “Next time, Mr. Mercer, just read the damn text.”
I let out a breath, and the anxiety in my head eased off like a pressure valve.
“I could never back-talk a teacher like that,” Tessa whispered from beside me with a flirtatious smile. “You’re awfully brave.”
She was an actress, the star of all the school musicals and plays. A sweet girl, and extremely beautiful. Destined for Hollywood. But I couldn’t take my eyes off the girl in the front row. The one who’d just saved my arse, even if she didn’t know it.
Harper must’ve felt my gaze because she turned around again. I expected irritation painted on her face for my “antics,” but there was only confusion. Our eyes met, and she stiffened and turned back around.
I see you, Harper Bennett…
But she was starting to see me too. I was feeling seen. Found. Whatever that meant.
Class let out and as we stepped into the hallway, I caught Harper’s eye again, only because I was watching her. Couldn’t take my eyes off this girl. In that half heartbeat where our gazes clashed, my pulse quickened, and her mouth parted slightly before she looked away.
I didn’t want her to look away.
And what, pray tell, would you do if she doesn’t?
I had no answer. I’d never been affected by a girl beyond bodily lust. If I wanted to get laid, I could. I never treated anyone poorly, but I made it clear that the evening would be just that—one evening.
But Harper wasn’t one evening.
So what is she?
I had no answer there either. Little glances aside, she didn’t like me very much. Or at least she didn’t fall at my feet like everyone else did.
I like that she doesn’t like me. Make of that what you will.
When Professor Wolfe was a no-show for Advanced Piano again, the disappointment verged on wrath.
The first week of school wasn’t over, and the year was shaping up to be a real shit show, as my American mates liked to say.
Callister and his cold-calling were bloody dangerous—I was good at deflecting, but not that good—and the one class I actually looked forward to was taught by a teacher who didn’t know how to read a fucking calendar.
I forced the anger down into the depths and found a study room where I used my text-to-speech to commit the first three chapters of history to memory, just like I had with chemistry.
All the new information crowded my memory circuits, but I got it all in there.
I had to; I couldn’t afford another cockup with Callister.
As I was packing up, my phone read me a text from Tucker.
Parking lot ASAP. We got a live one.
What fresh hell…?
I went to the parking lot where Tucker, Rhett, Aria, and Brent Reynolds from crew were crouched behind Tucker’s huge truck. They all watched as Harper Bennett walked to her little blue car where SECOND WARNING BENDER! was soaped onto the back windshield.
“What the bloody shit is this?” I demanded.
“Shhh.” Tucker elbowed me in the side. “This year’s senior prank.”
“We had other fresh meat picked out,” Rhett said. “Some nerd named Xander, but he’s so much of a Bender, he doesn’t even own a car.”
“Only a bicycle.” Aria giggled. “Sacrifices had to be made.”
My hands clenched into fists. “So you’re going to pick on a girl? How chivalrous.”
Tucker gave me a strange look. “Since when do you give a shit, Mercer? This is the senior prank.”
Harper glanced around. Goddamn, my heart ached at the anguish on her face. Then something like fierce pride roared up in me as she held her head high and climbed into her car with dignity.
“That,” Rhett said, “is a fine piece of automotive engineering.”
The others snickered, and I fought to keep my tone even. “Leave her be. We have nothing better to do?”
“She’s not allowed to park in our parking lot,” Brent said.
I nearly put my fist through the whiny wanker’s teeth. “Where the bloody hell is she supposed to park?”
Rhett grinned, loving that I was upset. “Touchy, touchy, Orion. What’s this all about?” He cocked his head. “You’ve got your own senior prank with her, is that it?”
Tucker’s eyes widened. “Oh shit. Has the hunter gotten bored with all the usual prey?”
I ignored him, sucking in calming breaths as Harper drove away.
“Well?” Tucker said, relaxing against his truck, arms crossed.
“Maybe,” I said. “Don’t fuck with my game.”
He chuckled. “Damn, Mercer, I got game too. I have the hottest girlfriend in the school.”
“I can understand why Orion would get bored,” Rhett said as if I weren’t there. “He’s got Elowen drooling all over him every time she sees him. Where’s the challenge?”
Aria busted out laughing and then clapped a hand over her mouth. “Rude, babe. That’s my friend you’re talking about.”
Rhett shrugged. “Am I wrong?”
“No. It’s pathetic, honestly.”
Tucker gripped my chin and gave it a wag. “With a face card this lethal, who could blame her?”
I knocked his hand away. “Piss off,” I snarled, but managed—just barely—to lighten it with a laugh.
Tucker laughed too, rubbing his wrist where I’d whacked him.
“I don’t blame Orion,” Rhett continued. “He’s hunting for sport outside our own kind because the buffet is too easy.”
“This is all very enlightening,” I said, casual as hell. “Please. Tell me more.”
Tucker shrugged. “Why else are you so defensive about some little Bender?”
I had a witty denial ready to fire but found my jaw clenched shut.
This is ridiculous. I don’t care.
Yet a voice whispered if he called her “little” again I was going to put him on the ground.
“She’s pretty in a witchy kind of way,” Aria said. “I mean, her fashion sense is atrocious, but she’s not…ugly.” She glanced up at me. “But she’s also way beneath you, Orion. It’s weird you don’t get with Elowen. Like, really weird. You’ve hooked up with everyone else.”
I shrugged and smiled tightly. “Maybe I like to be the prey sometimes too.”
The group laughed, and we went our separate ways: they to their big white houses on the Narragansett Bay, and me to Atlas Hall. Once inside my student apartment, I sagged against the wall.
“No wonder Harper hates you, mate,” I muttered to the empty apartment. “You’re utterly full of shit.”
I rubbed my eyes and headed for the bedroom, intending to crash.
Lo and behold, it turned out the apartment wasn’t so empty after all. My roommate, Easton Locke, had finally seen fit to grace me with his presence. He sat at his desk, in the dark, blinds drawn, working intently on a laptop that was covered in an array of artsy stickers.
“So, we meet at last,” I said. “Mind if I turn on a light?”
“If you must,” Easton said without looking up.
I flicked on the overheads, and he swiveled in his chair.
Good-looking fellow, if a bit pale, with a mop of dusty blond hair, thick brows, large blue eyes.
He wore torn jeans, Converse, and a black V-neck T-shirt revealing various necklaces, including a chain choker.
I’m sure the girls—or boys, or both—in his class were all over him.
I offered my hand. “Good to meet you, Easton.”
He stared at it, sizing me up with a lot more balls than I’d give a junior credit for. “Likewise.”
“Okay.” I withdrew my hand. “Where are you from?”
“California.”
“Doesn’t quite narrow it down, mate. I’m not aces in geography, but doesn’t California possess a vast array of cities and towns?”
Easton went back to his screen. “I’m from Los Angeles.
And to spare us the getting-to-know-you chitchat, I applied here on my own, was accepted, forged some paperwork, and here I am.
But because my parents have a shit-ton of money and are the literal scum of the earth, they followed me and are moving to Newport next year.
” His gaze flickered to me. “So. We good?”
“Um…sure,” I said, completely unsure what I was supposed to do with all that. “Are you coming to the bonfire tomorrow night? Maybe I could—”
“No.”
Okay, good talk.
I took a shower to wash off the ugly shit I’d witnessed in the parking lot.
When I came back out, Easton was gone. I hoped he wasn’t going to be this much of a killjoy all year, but I felt bad for the guy.
I’d been shipped clear across the Atlantic, and while my parents weren’t exactly warm fuzzy types, they still loved me. I’d never not known that.
Easton spoke as if he’d tried to escape his parents and they’d given chase.
He’s being dramatic, surely.
No matter. I vowed to have him laughing by month’s end. It’s what I did, after all. Make ’em laugh, keep ’em charmed and happy so they’ll never know. Never suspect…
Harper suspects. Hell, you might even tell her…
I shelved the thought before it could finish forming.
She didn’t need the poor little rich boy dumping his problems in her lap.
My brain might struggle with short text, but SECOND WARNING BENDER came in loud and clear.
They’d already harassed her twice now. Third time was the charm because I knew what “senior prank” meant.
Now I had another job to do.