Didi
Ituck my hair behind my ear and make my way into the class. I blink as the light shifts around me, the fluorescent lights searing into my eyes. All eyes are on me as I feel my way to my desk, desperately trying not to make my condition too obvious by bumping into anything.
I hear the usual teasing—Freak. Weirdo. Cursed.
I ignore them.
It feels different here than in other places I’ve lived. The hatred in this place feels more personal. More jarring. Evil. The fear and anger are so thick, it seeps into my bones.
I recently overheard girls talking in the bathroom about a boy who was stabbed only a few weeks before my arrival and how everyone thinks Remy did it. It’s the reason everyone is on edge. The girls said the name Shadowface. My arrival at Kinsmen is a bad omen—just like Mama always said.
I sit quietly and ignore them, and after a few seconds, my sight corrects itself. Blinking a few times, the room starts to come into focus, and when my vision returns, a few people are staring at me, but it’s Tommy Landry I notice first.
That face… Oh God. Why does he have to look like that?
His soft sandy eyes stare back at me from his seat a couple of rows up and off to the left.
I give him a weak smile, but Cindy and her friends are staring at me, too, with their perfect curls and tight blouses and bell-bottom jeans, and they notice him watching me.
Cindy shakes her head, her lips curled with disgust, and I clutch my dress, wishing I could look like them.
Tommy seems oblivious to her, and her ears are firing red.
Trying to stay invisible, I lower my head, but he’s making it impossible not to watch him as he rises and swaggers to the front of the room to sharpen his pencil.
Everyone seems to know him and love him, and everyone wants a piece of him. I hear his name everywhere as I walk along the school. He’s the kind of guy who walks in and owns the room, wearing his letterman jacket and shorts and that adorable mustache that makes him seem twenty-five.
His muscled legs would crush me, but he has a kindness in his eyes that doesn’t belong in an evil place like this. Unlike Remy.
He walks by Cindy and smiles at her, and she beams. I wonder for a moment if they are together. They would make a nice couple if they were, and it would explain why she’s not happy with him giving me attention. But every few seconds he glances at me, like he can’t help himself.
I’m not sure if he’s watching me because he feels bad for me, or because I saw his meltdown when he thought no one was looking.
A dark shadow enters the room and my body jolts when Remy walks into the room, wearing his usual dark leathers, his dark hair curling around his face, and lacking Tommy’s grace.
The class watches him, too, but with a different type of attention—a wary avoidance that, after yesterday’s library encounter, I understand perfectly.
It was Remy in the library yesterday, hiding behind that mask.
I sense it in my heart, just like I sensed evil in him when I looked into his eyes.
He wants something from me, and for whatever reason I am drawn to it.
He walks by me and sits in his spot to my left, and I keep my eyes focused forward. Everything about him is mesmerizing—dark and haunted.
I don’t need to see him to know he’s watching me, too. His eyes are like iron on my skin, and my soul shudders. My body heats, a pulse hitting between my legs at the thought of it being Remy watching me behind that mask.
The teacher finally walks in and hushes the class with a single glance and starts adding to the equations on the chalkboard.
Everyone flips open their books and scribbles down what he’s writing. Once done, he turns and asks us to work on the math questions independently.
I dip my eyes down and finish the last two equations before sliding my pencil on the desk and shift uncomfortably as the belt digs into my thigh.
I glance up at the white clock on the wall.
Ten minutes to go until lunch. I have half a jar of honey left at home I wish I brought.
I watch Tommy again. He has his hands in his hair, clearly stressed, and finally, I glance over at Remy.
I heard the click of his pencil and shuffling of papers a few minutes ago, too.
We are the only two people in class who seem to understand the material.
He catches my eye and tilts his head, that small smile playing on his lips again.
I let out a deep sigh.
How did I manage to catch the eye of the two most intriguing and complex guys at school? In the last two days, I’ve seen a side of both, they are hiding from everyone else. I glance away, vowing not to look in either of their directions for the rest of class.
Igather my things as the bell rings for lunch and dash into the hallway and outside, meeting the blinding sun as I instinctively make my way to the bleachers.
I wanted to go to the library, where it’s dark and clean, but those girls made it perfectly clear I wasn’t welcome, and I don’t want to chance running into Remy again, at least not yet. So, the bleachers it is.
I find the darkest place, avoiding any sun hitting my skin. I’m not sure if Tommy is going to come in again. I certainly don’t expect him to, especially when I walked by Cindy with her pom pom’s out, talking to him, and he looked like he was on his way to the track.
In all the schools I’ve attended over the past few years, there’s always at least one Tommy Landry—the one everyone loves. Our interaction yesterday was an accident, a brief instant that shouldn’t have happened, and I’m not naive to think he will return today.
Three months and I will never have to interact with these people again.
I cross my legs and tell myself I don’t care. I bite my nails to stave off the hunger and to ignore the constant sting from my belt. I can’t even sit properly without it digging into me.
I have no lunch again.
I do a quick scan for rodents, move a soda cup that must have fallen through the cracks, and settle in, leaning my back against the cold metal side and opening my textbook. My eyes adjust nicely to the shadowed light.
Heavy footfalls above me push dust down, causing dirt to fall onto my jacket. Annoyed, I brush the dust off my book and keep reading.
Nearly an hour goes by, and I’ll bet the bell will ring soon. Tommy never came, and I didn’t suppose he would.
“Hi Didi…”
My head snaps up to him, and my heart nearly jolts out of my chest. “Jesus. Tommy, you scared me.”
He towers over me, raking a hand through his messy hair. He’s changed into sweatpants that sit low on his hips and a school tank top that shows off his muscles. Sweat beads on his forehead, and his face is flushed from running.
He slides in as if he owns the place, settling down beside me. “Sorry, firefly, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
I’m too stunned to speak. Now that he’s here, I’m not sure I want him to be here. I stare down at my textbook, my heart fluttering.
“I didn’t mean to be so late. Coach made me run an extra again.”
The heat of his body radiates into me, his scent a mixture of sweat and spice.
I hesitate before saying, “You’re not late. You’re not even supposed to be here, Tommy.”
He pauses for a second, his brows crinkling, but then ignores me and rifles through his bag. “Nah. This is exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
My heart is in my throat. I’ve been through this before—someone pretending to take a liking to me, and me falling for it.
I’ve had more crushes than anyone, and it only ever hurts.
“Is this like…some sort of hazing?” I ask quietly. “The popular guy hanging out with the freak? I’ve been hazed before, and I won’t go through that again.”
He winces as though my words offend him. “No. That’s not what I’m doing at all.”
“Well, then what is it? Why are you here, Tommy?”
He leans back on one hand, effectively trapping me beside him. “I asked you yesterday if you wanted to share my lunch again.”
Ugh. He’s cute and charming—too charming. Is it possible he really is this nice?
I shift uneasily, the rough leather of my belt and the ache of my wounds making me squirm. It’s getting worse, especially with walking so much over the past few days. I hold my breath, desperately hoping he doesn’t notice.
“What about your friends? Don’t you want to have lunch with them?”
He shifts to get more comfortable and shrugs. “They think I’m training. Then I told them I had to go study. If I don’t pass math, my old man might have my head.”
“What about Remy?” I ask cautiously. Tommy’s sandy eyes narrow, and I realize I’ve struck a nerve.
“What about him?” he asks.
“You’re friends, aren’t you?”
His jaw tightens, and he pauses. “He hasn’t hurt you, has he?”
My eyes widen. If that was him in the library, it certainly didn’t hurt. If anything, I had a shooting sensation hit between my legs—a throbbing where the belt protects—when he caressed my cheek.
“No,” I tell him. Not a lie. “I haven’t even spoken to him since my first day.”
“Good. Stay away from him, Didi. He’s bad news.”
He grabs his sandwich and hands me half, but I don’t take it.
He pauses and watches me. “Come on, Didi. I know you’re hungry.”
“I’m not a charity case, Tommy. I don’t need you to bring me food. I’m not going to be here long. Once I graduate, I’m leaving.”
He frowns, and the sad expression on his face is adorable. Truly adorable. I hate that I have to be so mean to him, especially since he’s probably the nicest person I’ve met in the past three schools I’ve attended.
I pull my knees away from him. If he stays this close to me, he will be able to tell something is off. I barely bathe, and when I do, it’s with well water.
He takes a bite of his delicious looking sandwich, wiping mayo that falls onto his chin. My stomach grumbles and mouth salivates watching him inhale it. He looks at me and frowns as my stomach makes another embarrassing sound. He offers the other half to me again.
“It’s not charity, if you give me something in return.”