King 02 - Breathless (9 page)

I walked to the cafeteria, still preoccupied with the questionable decision that I’d just made. Fourth period lunch was nearly at an end, but I didn’t want to be near the doors when the bells rang, as I expected a mass exodus of freshmen who would trample me without a second thought if it meant they’d make it to the next class on time.

Thinking of that, I made a brief detour to my locker. The weight of my cell phone in the pocket of my sweater bounced lightly against my hip, and fleetingly I wondered if Michael would answer if I called him now. It was against school rules for me to have my telephone turned on during class hours, let alone to make an actual call. But I’d risk it if I thought he might be able to talk to me.

On the other hand, telling Michael that I was going to be spending lots of one-on-one time with the teacher who bore much of the responsibility for our attempted murders last year might not be the best idea. Oh, I knew I’d have to tell him eventually, but it occurred to me that both he and my parents were going to raise a major fuss over this situation. It might be wise to handle them one at a time, and my parents were the more immediate problem.

The bell rang as I slammed the door to my locker. The walkway flooded with the juniors and my own classmates fighting their way through the underclassmen. I slipped through the crowds and made it to the cafeteria.

There weren’t many people there yet, but I was immensely relieved to find that I wasn’t alone in the room either. The lunch ladies chatted behind the counter, and the usual aromas filled the air. All was as it should be.

Or nearly so. I made my way over to my normal lunch table and dropped my bag on the bench, but it was empty. I wondered if anyone would join Cara, Amber and me today. I missed Anne, Brea and the others all over again.

And of course I missed Michael the most. I hadn’t had to get my own lunch since the first day I’d arrived in King, as Michael always had an overflowing tray waiting for me, either at our lunch table or outside when the weather permitted and we wanted some privacy. I bit my lip and sighed as I picked up a tray and joined the line.

“Hey, Tas!” Cara sailed into the line and gave me a friendly bump on the shoulder. “Joining the rest of us commoners in the lunch line this year?”

Michael treated her like a princess. Bet it’s hard for her to get used to doing things on her own now.

I fought to keep a frown off my face and Cara’s voice out of my head. I didn’t need her teasing today, no matter how good-natured it might be. And I wasn’t entirely sure anymore how harmless Cara was. Between her parents’ suspicion of me and her own murky feelings toward Michael, I found that my trust in Cara was waning.

I wanted to tell her that I had never asked Michael to spoil me as he had. It was part of him, an integral aspect of his make-up, just as he treated Anne and Brea with an affectionate deference, just as he was lovingly protective of both his sister and his mother.

But it wouldn’t do any good to make these protestations. Cara wouldn’t want to hear them.

Instead I smiled weakly at her and replied vaguely, “Yes, it really is a change.” We slid our trays along the metal bars, and with a pang I was back in time, a year ago, when I had first laid on eyes on Michael. I saw his warm eyes, his welcoming smile with just a hint of astonishment, for amazingly he had been waiting for me years before we knew each other.

With a sigh, I grabbed a salad and roll, added a bottle of water and paid for my food. As I returned to our table, I noticed that Liza, Julie and Casey were sitting at their old table, too. Liza’s eyes met mine as I passed.

There she is. Not so high and mighty now that her knight in shining armor isn’t around. She’s probably feeling sorry for herself. Well, now she knows how it feels to lose someone. Now she knows how we all felt last year after Nell… left.

I looked away from Liza, as much to hide my impatience as to stop hearing her thoughts. It was exasperatingly amusing that she chose to remember the events of last year so much differently than they had actually happened. In reality, Liza had been tired of Nell’s controlling nature and questionable practices. And after everything had happened, Liza had as much as admitted to me that Nell’s behavior had frightened her. But now she was willing to blame me for her former friend’s absence.

Cara was right behind me as I sat down at the table. A few moments later, Amber joined us. We chatted idly about our mornings, and I carefully avoided sharing my talk with Ms. Ross about the independent study. Amber was still very uneasy about Ms. Lacusta, and rightfully so. She had seen the teacher in some very unorthodox and scary settings, and I knew that she didn’t feel completely safe when Ms. Lacusta was around.

A few juniors sat down at the end of our table and glanced at us curiously. I smiled at them welcomingly, remembering all too well how it felt to be lonely at lunch time. One girl introduced herself to us.

“I’m Tricia,” she announced. “Sorry if we’re taking up space here. This is where we sat the last two years, when we had fourth period lunch. I didn’t even think that we’d have to find a new place this year.”

“It’s not a problem,” I assured them. “Our friends—the ones who used to sit here with us—they graduated last spring. So we’ve got room, if you want to sit here.”

“Thanks.” Her eyes wandered over us inquisitively. “Didn’t you used to date that gorgeous senior? Well, the one who graduated, I mean.”

My smile became a little more forced. “If you mean Michael Sawyer, yes. I did—do date him. He’s away at school right now.”

Tricia and her two friends sighed rapturously. “He is
so
cute,” the girl nearest me announced breathlessly. “I heard no one was ever good enough for him. How did
you
snag him?”

I wanted to roll my eyes. It wasn’t the first time that someone had questioned my relationship with Michael—the best-looking guy in the school who had assiduously avoided dating situations until he met me. But it never got any easier or made me feel less inadequate.

“I guess it just happens sometimes,” I replied. What existed between Michael and me was private and privileged information. I knew that even our closest friends sometimes wondered about us, but they were kind and loyal enough not to ask—not aloud, anyway.

Lunch ended at last, and the rest of my afternoon was blissfully uneventful. Before leaving for home, I put the top down on the Mustang. I had discovered that one of my guilty pleasures and major stress releases was driving along the country roads, music playing and wind in my hair. Today I was certainly going to need just that.

I was settled in the driver’s seat, ready to throw the car into reverse when a shadow fell across me and I heard a voice.

“Wow. Now that’s a beauty.”

I jerked my head up in surprise. My mental guard dropped, and as I took in the tall, dark-haired boy standing on the passenger side of the car, I could hear him clearly.

Wow, again. The car is a classic, no doubt, but the driver is even hotter. Where has SHE been all day?

This was totally not what I needed. The day had been almost unbearably long and full of unexpected twists. The last thing I needed was another complication. And undoubtedly this stranger, who was admittedly an attractive, interested-looking male, was a complication.

“Can I help you?” I spoke in my professional voice, the same one I used at the nursery when dealing with wearing customers.

“I hope so. I was on my way across the lot to my car when I spotted this baby. Tell me she’s for sale.” His eyes were eager and admiring.

“Sorry. Not for sale, not at any price.”

He blew out a breath, but it was good-natured. “I was afraid of that. The best ones never are. How long have you had her?”

I shaded my eyes with my hand and looked up at him. With the sun shining behind his head, it was difficult to see his face. But his thoughts were continuing on the same track as they had when he’d first approached the car.

“Actually, she belongs to my boyfriend, to his family. He’s in college, and he has very generously allowed me to drive her while he’s away.”

“Ahh. That just figures. Like I said, all the best ones are always taken.” His eyes skimmed over me, and I had the sense that he wasn’t talking about the Mustang anymore.

“I don’t think I know you,” I said cautiously. I had no desire to encourage this boy’s attentions, but he was leaning against the car and I couldn’t exactly pull away.

“I’m new. It’s my first day. And before you ask, yes, I’m a senior, and no, moving in senior year isn’t fun. I didn’t have any choice. Oh, and by the way, my name is Rafe. Rafe Brooks.”

I raised my eyebrows at this rush of information. Rafe chuckled and ran a hand over his face.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I’ve just been getting the third degree all day. You didn’t know.”

A glimmer of empathy flashed across my mind. I knew all too well what it was like to be the new kid in school.

“It’s okay. I’ve been there, quite a few times, matter of fact.” I hesitated. I didn’t want to give him the wrong idea, but not introducing myself now would be downright rude.

“I’m Tasmyn Vaughn.” I leaned across the passenger seat and extended my hand. Rafe studied it for a minute before taking it thoughtfully.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tasmyn Vaughn,” he said. I noticed that he had to lean down over the car to reach my hand. He really was quite tall.

There was a slightly awkward silence, and then I pulled my hand away. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I kind of have to get to work,” I said. “It was nice to meet you. I hope you like King.”

“Yeah,” Rafe nodded. “I’ll probably see you around. Not that big a school, after all.” He stepped back from the Mustang with a last, lingering glance.

I pulled out of the lot, relieved beyond words that the car didn’t stall. As I glanced in my rearview mirror, I saw that Rafe Brooks was still standing where I’d left him, looking after me.

The ride out to the nursery did refresh my tired spirit. It was a busy afternoon, and even Marly, who always had time for me, barely had a chance to do more than give me a quick welcoming hug. When closing time came, I ducked my head into the greenhouse to say goodbye.

“Oh, Tas, I’m sorry, I didn’t even get to ask you about your first day of school. Everything okay?”

I was tempted to tell Marly about Ms. Lacusta, as a trial run for explaining to my parents and Michael. Marly was by far the most sympathetic person in my life, and I knew she’d have words of wisdom for me.

But one look at her tired face stopped my words before I spoke. I could hear and feel her exhaustion.

“Yes, thanks, everything was fine,” I responded. “I’ll tell you more later.” I turned to go.

“Wait a minute, sweetie. Are you sure you’re all right?” Marly was almost as sensitive to moods and feelings as I myself was. I forced a wider smile.

“I’m sure. Just tired—I guess we all are. I’ll see you on Wednesday afternoon, okay?”

Marly held my gaze thoughtfully. “Tas, you know, if you need to cut back on your hours here, it’s fine. We don’t want your senior year to be any more challenging than it already will be.”

The idea of losing the nursery, too, made me panic. “No! No, thanks. Really, I love being out here. It’s the best part of my day.”

She studied me a minute more. “Okay. You’ll tell us if you change your mind? And you know, you don’t have to work to come out here. You can come out just to visit us, any time. You know that.”

“I do.” Impulsively I leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thanks, Marly. I’ll see you Wednesday.”

Dinner was on the table when I arrived home. I answered all the questions about my first day with as much patience as I could muster before I heard the one I’d been dreading.

“What happened with your independent study? Did you get the history or the English assignment?” My father knew what I’d been hoping to do this year.

“Not exactly.” I fidgeted with my silverware and wished I’d had time to formulate a more convincing argument.

“Why not?” My mother stood to carry her plate to the sink.

“Well, I talked to Ms. Ross, and it turns out that they offer the teachers a chance to choose students for independent study. And… someone had chosen me.”