Beastly (The Ever After Collection) (5 page)

Emma frowned, not entirely sure if that was true, but nodded anyway, half-heartedly listening to Percy offer to loan her some of his mom’s clothes as Collette and Luca led her back into the house.

CHAPTER FOUR

Emma couldn't help it. In spite of Collette’s advice, she worried.

Because as far as she could tell, Heath didn’t have any friends to care for him the way that Luca and Collette had cared for her. She didn't know if he had
anyone
to care for him.

She worried that he’d gotten himself sick from staying in his wet clothes for too long. She worried about the mysterious scars on his hand and how he could have possibly acquired them. She worried that he might hate her for touching one of them, for prying, for forcing him to jump into a frozen tundra of a lake after she’d stupidly fallen in.

And she hadn’t even thanked him.

Logically, she knew she hadn’t really
forced
him to do it. Jump, that was. Emma could swim, after all, and she could have easily swum to shore as soon as she’d gathered her bearings under the water. But Heath didn't know that. Plus, she’d managed to hit her head on the dock on her way in – and she had a small cut on her left temple to prove it. He’d clearly thought she’d needed him to save her, anyway.

So he had.

And Emma worried. She worried all weekend.

Monday, so far, had been even worse. Despite actively searching for him as soon as she got to school, Emma didn’t see Heath anywhere. Not in the hallways before classes had started (not in between class either), and not in the school cafeteria during lunch. Picking at what apparently passed as a chicken sandwich on her lunch tray, she was close to concluding that he wasn’t at school at all. Unfortunately, such a conclusion caused a sickening mix of anxiety and disappointment to swirl in her belly. It rid her of her appetite completely.

“I’m not hungry,” she explained to her friends, otherwise ignoring their bewildered expressions as she stood from her seat at the table. “I think I’m going to head to my next class early.”

“Whatever you want,” Collette agreed with a shrug.

“See you later,” Luca concurred.

After ditching her friends, Emma made a quick stop at her locker to retrieve the novel they were currently reading in her American Literature class,
The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn
, before doing exactly what she’d told Collette and Luca she planned to do and headed to class.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that besides Gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, it was the only class she shared with Heath.

Right.

Absolutely nothing to do with it.

Slipping into Miss Blanchett’s classroom, Emma sat in her usual seat and waited. Tapping her fingers restlessly against her desk, she stared at the clock on the wall, willing for class to start. And for Heath to be there when it did.

What she tried
not
to do as she watched the second hand slowly inch its way around the circumference of the clock was think too hard about the rumors currently circulating the school – the ones about how she’d ended up in the lake outside of Percy Davenport’s house.

There were three popular theories. The first (which happened to be the least offensive and most accurate of the bunch) was that Emma had merely had a bit too much to drink and had fallen into the lake. Heath, who was the first on the scene, had jumped in after her. The second, and immensely more offensive, theory was that Emma had purposefully jumped into the lake for the attention it would gather her, a move meant to steal away the spotlight from Maribeth, who’d won the homecoming queen title that evening. Heath, who’d been in cahoots with Emma, had then “saved” her. The third theory, the one that left the worst taste in Emma’s mouth, was that Heath had actually
pushed
her into the lake.

It was stupid. And did little to explain why he would jump into the water after her, but the rumor bothered Emma far more than the others. It made a hot sort of anger burn in her chest to think that anyone thought Heath capable of such an awful thing.

As people began to trickle into the classroom, Emma busied herself by cracking open her book and spending a ridiculous amount of energy centering two perfectly sharpened pencils at the top of her desk. (What she was really doing, of course, was stealthily watching the door, waiting –
hoping
– to see a mess of caramel colored hair come walking through the entryway.)

And then the hair – and the boy attached to it – did. Emma let out a lungful of air she hadn’t even been aware she’d been holding. Heath didn’t look at her, of course, not even a glance in her direction, but it was enough for her that he was there.

Less than a minute later, Miss Blanchett bounded into the room and class began.

“Hello, lovelies!” the green haired woman greeted them cheerfully, setting a stack of papers down on her desk with flourish before turning to face the class. “Before we discuss the chapters of
Huck Finn
you were supposed to read over the weekend, I’m excited to announce that it’s finally time to assign the book reports I told you about at the beginning of the year. You know, the ones that are worth a third of your final grade!”

A collective groan arose from the mass of students. The boy seated directly on Emma’s left – Jason Greenburg – even went as far as to bang his head against his desk with a soft
thwack
.

“I knew you’d be as excited as I am,” Miss Blanchett continued, either completely ignoring or entirely oblivious to the disgruntlement she’d just caused. (It was hard to tell some days if she was truly as bubbly and sunny as she appeared or was actually secretly sadistic.) “Now, I’ve taken it upon myself to compile a list of appropriate novels for you kids to choose from.” She began to pass out said lists. “The reports are due the week before Christmas break. That’s also when you will be presenting your reports. Because of the enormity of the project and the fact that you won’t get any class time to work on it, you will all be allowed one partner.”

“Do we get to pick our partner?”

Emma cringed when she recognized Gunther’s voice project the question from where he sat in the back of the classroom. He sounded entirely too eager for her liking.

“No.”

More groaning erupted from the room.

“That’s so lame,” someone complained to Emma’s right.

“Vindictive old witch,” someone else muttered.

“Think of it as an opportunity to work with someone new,” Miss Blanchett urged from behind her desk, the beaming smile stretched across her face not dimming in the slightest. She began pairing up students at random.

Emma bit her lip, firmly telling herself that she was
not
feeling nervous. She didn’t mind working with a partner. (Well, as long as it wasn’t Gunther.) Collette and Luca didn’t share American Literature with her so she didn’t have a preference. Really. Even if she couldn't stop thinking about a certain handsome, confusing boy who intrigued her entirely too much for her own good. A boy named—

“Heath Thompson.”

Emma refused to admit that her heart skipped a beat when his name was called. “Why don’t you pair up with…?”

Please. Please. Please.

“Emma Belrose.”

Before any emotion – okay, so most likely it was going to be elation – could occur to her, Heath spoke, his deep voice loud in the quiet of the room. And what he had to say dampened any sort of happiness she may have felt entirely.

“Is it really necessary to work with a partner?”

Heat crept up Emma’s neck, spreading over her cheeks and to the very tips of her ears. Her face was so hot it burned. She was half convinced it would burst into flames, and Miss Blanchett would have to call the fire department to come put it out. Utterly embarrassed, Emma sank into her seat.

“Why? What’s wrong with dear Emma?”

Yeah, what was wrong with her?

Heath was quiet for a beat too long. And then… “Nothing’s wrong with her.”

“Excellent!” Miss Blanchett declared. “It’s settled then.” She finished pairing up the class after that, but Emma didn’t hear another word she said. She was too busy pressing the back of her hands to her heated cheeks, urging them to cool.

She was mortified.

Heath had basically just declared to the rest of the class that he wanted nothing to do with her. Emma told herself that she was being ridiculous, that she shouldn’t take what he had said to heart. After all, maybe he just liked working by himself.

But if that was true, couldn't Heath have said something
before
he’d found out that he was going to be working with her specifically?

Suddenly, she could see why people thought he had pushed her into a lake.

Emma forced herself to concentrate on Miss Blanchett as the woman continued to give instructions. “Now, I suggest getting together with your partner at the end of class and picking the novel on the list you’d like to read and report upon. Because one of the main purposes of this assignment is that you all get a small taste of as many of the greats as possible, no novel may be chosen twice. They will be assigned on a first come, first serve basis. Any questions?”

There were none.

“Great! Now, let’s talk about our little Huck Finn.”

Emma allowed herself to get lost in Huck Finn’s troubles for the rest of class. By the time the bell rang and signaled the end of American Literature, Emma felt ready to face Heath. She gathered her belongings, mentally preparing herself to be civil. When she stood, however, a blur of black sweatshirt and caramel hair pushed past her.

She blinked in surprise. “Heath, hey, wait-”

But he was already gone.

* * *

Heath continued to ignore Emma on Tuesday, both in American Literature and Gym. He’d officially been participating in the latter class since the Thursday before. He’d brought in a doctor’s note of some sort, and while Emma didn't know exactly what it had said, Coach Benson’s eyes had widened upon reading it, and he’d reluctantly allowed Heath to wear a modified version of the standard Phy. Ed. uniform. It was comprised of the same shorts the rest of the class wore and whatever shirt Heath happened to be wearing that day – typically a ratty sweatshirt of some sort – instead of the short-sleeved gray shirts that typically accompanied them. Maybe he really
was
allergic to polyester.

Heath ignored her on Wednesday too. And Thursday. And Friday, sitting in the cafeteria with her friends, Emma was resigned to the fact that she was likely going to get the same cold treatment that day. It wasn’t exactly ideal considering the fact that they had to work together. Typically, such an arrangement required at least
some
attempt at communication.

Logically, Emma knew it was only early November and that they had until Christmas break to get their project done, but half of the books on the list Miss Blanchett had handed out had already been claimed. Besides that, Heath’s attitude infuriated her. He couldn't still be mad at her for touching his hand last Friday, could he? If she’d known at the time that doing so would cause him to act like
this
, then she’d never have done it. And anyway, he’d already gotten his revenge by embarrassing her in front of the entire class on Monday. Did he really have to continue on ignoring her?

Glaring at her lunch tray, she viciously stabbed what the lunch ladies were advertising as a hamburger with her fork.

“Now I see why they only give us plastic cutlery,” Luca whispered to Collette, both of whom were sitting opposite Emma.

Emma glanced up from her food, her glare not lessening in the least. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

Collette rolled her eyes. “What Luca means is, what has that…” she eyed the oblong-shaped piece of meat, “
thing
ever done to you?”

Emma huffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Collette pursed her lips. “Cut the crap, Emma. You’ve been off kilter since Monday, but particularly pouty since Tuesday. Why not quit the sulking and just tell us what’s up already?”

Right, because
that
speech made her want to open up to them.

Collette sighed when Emma didn’t reply, her expression softening. “Seriously, Emma. We’re worried about you, so spill.”

And just like that, her anger deflated like air escaping a balloon. The tension in her shoulders remained, however, as she braced herself for their reactions. “It’s…Heath,” she admitted quietly.

Collette frowned. “Heath Thompson, the new boy? The one who jumped into a lake after you last Friday?”

“What happened?” Luca asked. “Did he do something to you?”

Emma bit her lip. “No. Not really.”

A sly grin spread across Collette’s face as realization dawned, transforming her pretty features into something downright wicked. Never had anyone resembled the Cheshire Cat from
Alice in Wonderland
more. “No, Luca, Emma just
wants
him to do something to her. Probably all sorts of somethings.”

“What? No!” Emma sputtered helplessly as the two grinned at each other.