Dragonfly (2 page)

Rachel, a friend of Gabi’s who I’d sat behind last year in English, broke through my quiet despair, calling my name as she hurried to catch up with me. She wore a blue and white cheerleader uniform, and her perfectly straight blonde hair was smoothed back with a yellow grosgrain ribbon for a headband.

“You missed Open House Friday,” she said, perky as always.

“Yeah, I thought I had a stomach bug or something.”

It was a lie. I’d spent Friday drowning my depression in Chex Mix and root beer while I watched
The Notebook
for the thousandth time. Only it was first time without my best friend. Yep, pretty pathetic.

“Oh!” She jumped back almost a foot. “Were you puking or what?”

“I just had cramps. Maybe it was PMS?”

“Thank goodness!” She sighed dramatically. Then she bumped my arm. “Heard you made the school newsblog. Awesome.”

“Yeah,” I said, thinking how Rachel was a notorious gossip. “You should’ve tried out.”

“Ha! As if I have time for that.” She pushed her perfect hair behind her shoulder. “Besides, I can’t write worth a flip.”

“Oh, well, I was just thinking how you always have the scoop.”

I liked Rachel, we just had nothing in common. In addition to being head cheerleader, she’d dated her boyfriend Brad Brennan since middle school. Brad was the star of our high school football team, the Dolphins. Clichés had to start somewhere I guessed.

“Show me your schedule,” Rachel said, breaking my thoughts. She quickly scanned our class listings. “Hmm… no matches. But we have the same lunch period. See you then?”

“Okay,” I said, thinking how even though our future plans were vastly different, Rachel was still pretty decent, unlike some of the other cheerleaders. We might never be soul sisters, but she was at least a friend.

I ducked into English class, happy for the escape. I loved to read, and writing was my passion. Being tapped for the school newsblog was the icing on the cake, and I hoped it would make the time pass quickly.

My literature book was halfway out of my bag when I glanced up and almost dropped it on the floor. There he was. Again. Jack was standing in the doorway, totally hot and completely out of place in our required uniform khaki pants and white oxford shirt. I could swear he was still glowing. I couldn’t breathe.

I closed my mouth and tried not to stare as he made his way to the seat next to mine.
What was he doing here?

Mrs. Bowman walked in and everyone got quiet. “Welcome back, students. I expect you to be in your seats with your mouths closed,” she said in her military monotone.

As she went down the list, I knew all the names from last year. We’d had to test to get in this class, and we’d earn college credit for taking it if we passed another test at the end of the year.

“John Kyser?” That was him—the only new name.

“It’s Jack,” he said in that voice that made me shiver.

He rose to hand her a slip of paper, and my mind filled with images of what he looked like under that uniform. I slid my hand up to cover my pink cheeks as he returned to his seat.

“I see. Transfer from Sacred Heart. Welcome, Mr. Kyser.”

Mr. Kyser
. My brow lined as my journalistic wheels started turning. The only Mr. Kyser I’d heard of, Bill Kyser, was the developer who’d transformed East End Beach into a major tourist destination. He was a super-rich recluse, who I’d never even considered might have a family. I strained my eyes, trying to peek at Jack without turning my head. Could they be related?

Sacred Heart was a very expensive private school on Terry Cove, and it was almost exclusively for children of Hammond Island residents. There had to be some connection, but those ultra-rich locals wanted to be left alone. And they had the money to make it happen. So why in the world would he be here?

Class went on as usual, and Jack never even glanced in my direction. He didn’t speak to anyone and was generally aloof for the remainder of the hour. I started to feel irritated with him being in our perfectly good school acting like he was better than everyone else when the period ended, and the room burst into the chaos of everyone packing up to leave.

Rachel was absolutely giddy in the hall. “Oh my god, Jack Kyser was in your class,” she squealed. “He is so hot. I saw his sister earlier, too. You know their dad is Bill Kyser? He practically put East End Beach on the map. Their house is the biggest on Hammond Island—”

“I was putting that together,” I answered quickly, trying to get her moving. We were standing in the door of my class, and I cringed fearing he might hear us talking about him.

Rachel was undeterred. She switched to gossip voice—all low and sneaky. “I heard his sister got kicked out of Sacred Heart last year because she was having sex with a teacher!”

“Rachel, gah,” I grabbed her arm and pulled her fast down the hall. “Why would anybody do a teacher?” That was a mental image I didn’t need.

“Oh, grow up, Anna. He was probably young and hot.” Rachel flipped her hair.

She and Brad really had been together since eighth grade, and I’d heard they were already planning their wedding—yes, it was nuts. As previously noted, we had nothing in common, but because of their “advanced relationship,” as she liked to call it, Rachel considered herself an authority on all things guy-related. I suppressed an eye-roll. As if Brad was such a mystery. Football, hunting, food, sex, done. Pretty standard southern male. Maybe throw in a beer or two for good measure.

“They’ve always been wild,” she continued. “Since they lost their mom and all.”

That piqued my interest. I remembered their conversation on the beach. “What happened to their mom?”

“Car wreck. And their dad never remarried. Practically became a hermit after it happened. He just lets them do whatever they want now.”

“That’s sad.” I was distracted as I turned toward my next class and nearly slammed into a stationary body. “Oh!”

Lucy was standing there looking like she’d just stepped off a fashion-show runway, despite being in the same khaki skirt and white polo as the rest of us. She had accessorized with hoop earrings, a striped belt, and flats, and her golden hair was smoothed into a side ponytail.

“I know you,” she smiled at me. “We met at the beach. I’m Lucy?”

“Uh, yeah… I remember.” Of all the people. And there was no way she didn’t just hear us gossiping about her. “Anna.”

Rachel made a face that said
busted
and bumped my arm. “Gotta get to class.”

“You going in here?” Lucy said.

She at least appeared unaware we were talking about her, so I tried to be casual. “Yeah, civics-free enterprise. It’s supposed to be a lot cushier than taking a whole year of civics.”

“Right. I couldn’t care less about government.” I followed her in, and we found seats together.

“I think I have English with your brother,” I said.

“Jack? Oh, he’s so smart. He’s going to Yale, you know.”

“No. I didn’t.”

“Yeah. He’s brilliant. He got all the brains in the womb.”

“You guys are twins?” I felt like I should’ve seen it yesterday.

“I know,” she said, as if reading my mind. “People always expect twins to be identical.”

“Right.” I wasn’t sure what to say next, and now I felt like the brainless one.

“I love it,” she continued, ignoring my awkwardness. “He’s always got my back.”

My brow creased. “Do you need that?”

“Haven’t you heard? We were kicked out of Sacred Heart.” Her expression didn’t skip a beat. “Daddy sent us away, and now he’s having to cough up bribe money to keep Jack on track for college.”

Then she did a little laugh, but it didn’t feel like a joke. I was beginning to suspect she was a lot smarter than she pretended.

“So I guess since I’m new and all, maybe you can help me learn the ropes?”

I shrugged. “I’ll try, but I’ve only been here a few years. I’m not so good at them myself.”

She took my phone, quickly touching the face several times. Her phone vibrated on her desk as she handed mine back. “Now we’re connected. We can help each other!”

I hit
Save
, certain there was no way on Earth I could help Lucy Kyser with anything. Still, I wasn’t turning down her offer.

* * *

One day down, what felt like a million more to go. I made my way to Mom’s Kia in the student lot when the familiar Jeep pulled out of a parking space. Lucy waved and flashed me a brilliant smile. The vehicle slowed to a stop.

“You should come over to study,” she said. “Since we’re helping each other now. It’ll be fun!”

Jack didn’t even look at me.

“Oh, thanks,” I fumbled. “I can’t today, but you know. Maybe soon.”

“Why not? We can take Daddy’s boat and cruise around when we need a break. Go lifeguard spotting.” She winked, and I thought of B.J. How she’d just missed him, and how he’d called me
kid
. Ugh.

I was pretty certain I couldn’t pull off lifeguard spotting. Or boats. And I wasn’t even sure how to get onto Hammond Island. It seemed like I’d heard they had armed security guards at the entrance.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I kind of have this thing…”

“Just think about it. Bye, Anna!” She waved as the Jeep sped off.

How could I ever be friends with someone like Lucy Kyser? I didn’t even know where to start trying to talk to her. But if I did, that would mean I might see Jack more. The very thought made my insides all squirmy. As if he’d even notice me.

Nope. Shying away was last-year’s Anna. I was a school reporter now, and I was determined to be different. This could be an opportunity to do something interesting, and I certainly had a great excuse to try. Maybe I could do a feature story on notable new students. Who had hot twin brothers.

“You know those guys?” That friendly male voice put me at ease even though it sent most girls’ hearts racing as fast as Jack Kyser’s did.

The Kyser golden boy might’ve been the hottest new thing on campus, but Julian LaSalle was the reigning champ. An artist with dark hair and crazy blue eyes, Julian transformed black uniform pants (our other option) and a white oxford shirt into the epitome of post-punk chic with his tall, skinny swagger. Gabi and I had swooned since day one.

Gabi was one of the reasons my Julian fantasies never took flight. The other was Renee Barron, the hottest girl in our class—before Lucy, of course. Julian was a notorious flirt, but when he did need a date, Renee always won that prized spot. And pending Renee’s disappearance, Gabi had declared Julian hers. It was all in theory, of course, but it was still dibs.

Somehow, the removal of any chance of us ever getting together, regardless of how microscopic that chance might’ve ever been, had paved the way for us to become great friends. It was kind of cool. Except for the nerdy part where I was a Mathlete and assigned to tutor him in algebra last year. Still, a hot guy who was hopeless at math was too cute to be intimidating, and I could secretly fantasize about him all I wanted.

“Julian LaSalle,” I tried to act coy, despite the smile spreading across my cheeks. “I heard you failed algebra even with all my efforts to save you.”

He shrugged, clear blue eyes flirting behind his dark bangs. “It’s all good. Just means we get to spend another year together.”

“Sorry.” I shook my head. “I quit the Mathletes. Reporting for the school newsblog instead.”

“Motherf—what? What does that mean?” He actually looked mad. I wasn’t sure how to take that.

I exhaled a laugh. “You’re mad? I should be mad, since your failure made me look like a crap tutor. If it weren’t for Allyson—”

“Allyson could focus.” He smiled, throwing an arm across my shoulders. “I was too distracted by your brilliant mind.” Then he caught one of my spiral locks the humid breeze blew straight in his face. “And these.”

“Ugh,” I grabbed all my frizz in a knot at my neck. “The worst.”

“I love it. Titian. Venus of Urbino.” He leaned his head to mine. “Renaissance women are hot.”

“Are you saying I’m fat?”

He laughed. “You’ll have to eat more pizza.” Then he glanced back, over our shoulders and down. “Your little ass is still too cute for Botticelli.”

Embarrassment squeezed my chest. “I’m not sure I agree with you.” Then I shrugged off his arm. “Where’s Renee?”

“She’s around somewhere.” He watched as I unlocked my car door and threw my bag on the passenger seat. “So you’re making new friends?”

I shut the door and leaned against it. “I met Lucy at the beach Saturday. Sort of. And now I have classes with both of them. Jack doesn’t say much… I’m sure he doesn’t remember me.”

“Doubtful. You are unforgettable, Anna Sunshine.”

My brow relaxed. He knew I loved that nickname much better than my dad’s horrifying “Anna Banana.” I tried to imagine what Julian would say if I suggested we go out… If only I could be sure. Nothing would be more humiliating than me being serious while he was only playing.

“So what’s this newsblog thing?” he said, straightening up.

“Features stuff. Interesting students, school events.” My eyes widened. “Hey! I’ve got to do a story on you! You know, your art? It could be very serious, about your passion and your imagination…”