NEWBORN: Book One of the Newborn Trilogy (3 page)

“What?” I ask, fork in hand.

He shakes his head, still smiling.
“Nothing.”

“No – tell me,” I demand.

He glances into my eyes before leaning back
in his chair. “You didn’t get much to eat,” he says
matter-of-factly.

I look down at the lone, small salmon filet
on my plate. The decision not to get more food had been automatic,
an easy one. “Oh,” I say, staring at my food. “I haven’t had much
of an appetite recently. Dad –
my
Dad – thinks it might be
related to nerves or something. Anxiety.”

“Ah,” he says, his tone deepening with
interest. “That could be it. So you don’t have…you’re not a –”

I stop him in his tracks. “No,” I say more
sharply than I meant to. “I’m not anorexic or bulimic or whatever
the others are. Just not hungry is all.”

Gabriel seems satisfied. “They have a good
salad bar here,” he begins, stabbing his plate with a fork, “I’m
surprised. Hopefully it lasts past the parents’ visit. My guess is
it won’t.”

“Salmon’s delicious,” I say, taking a bite.
But I don’t want to finish the filet. Not because it’s not good,
but because my stomach is twisting into knots and I feel sick at
the taste – no – the
smell
of the food. Unable to eat past
one bite, I lower my fork – laden with a second helping – to my
plate.

“What’s wrong,” Gabriel asks.

I shake my head. “Nothing – I’m just not
feeling well.”

“Anxiety?” he asks.

How quickly that became a standard
, my
alter ego remarks.

Shut up
, I tell her.

“Maybe,” I allow. “You keep eating. I’m
fine.”

Without waiting for further permission,
Gabriel picks up his fork and continues. Now that he’s occupied
with his food and I’m sitting directly across from him with a good
view, I can finally take him in without feeling too abashed.

Robes or no robes, this boy is hot.

Straight blond hair covers his forehead and
ears as exquisite turquoise eyes penetrate me deeply, filling my
every crevice. His cheeks are round and full and beautiful. A soft
nose peeks above staggeringly white teeth and a rugged chest is
hugged by a V-neck shirt I can see over the top of his robes. A
prominent Adam’s apple tickles my consciousness.

He is so cute. No – more than cute.
Angelic.

I wonder if he’s a senior. “How old are
you?”

He looks up in surprise. “Why?”

I shrug, trying to look as innocent as
possible. “Just curious.”

“You first,” he says, a smile curving his
lips.

“Promise you’ll tell?” I ask, trying to match
his playfulness. I’m so bad at flirting.

Gabriel nods.

“Eighteen,” I tell him, “Like most of the
people here, I’m guessing.” I gesture to the room at large with its
many students and parents.

“Seventeen,” Gabriel says, his smile growing
mischievous. “I only just graduated from Magasant in May.”

“Where’s Magasant?”

“Shit,” Gabriel says, closing his eyes and
releasing his fork. “Sorry! Forget I said anything. I’m new… not
used to being among your people. I – I forget myself. Magasant is
nothing – forget I said anything,” he says hurriedly, his face
reddening. The effect is making his cheeks burn which is making me
squirm in my chair. He’s so delicious! “I’m already fucking up,”
Gabriel says angrily.

“I’m serious,” I tell him. “I want to know.
Is Magasant a school somewhere?
Where
is it? What do they
teach there? Does everybody graduate at seventeen?” I know I’m
being nosy, but his embarrassment is only provoking my curiosity.
Whatever this Magasant place is, it’s worth knowing about. I can
tell.

His expression guarded, Gabriel raises his
eyes from the table. “I can only tell you so much,” he says.
“Magasant is here in the United States. North of Boston. And yes –
we all graduate at seventeen. Unless you’re slow, that is.” A
reluctant smile returns to his lips and he picks up his fork.

I stare at him, wanting to know more. Have I
already pushed my luck? Who cares – I’m going to continue asking
questions. “That’s what you’re about, isn’t it?” I ask excitedly.
“That’s what’s different about you – the way you dress, your owl,
everything. It has something to do with this Magasant place.”

Gabriel stops chewing midway through a
mouthful of salad. Blinking, he resumes chewing and swallows,
looking thoughtful. “You’re a clever girl, Nora,” he says, but his
tone isn’t admiring. It’s dangerous. “But remember this – it’s
often the intellects that are targeted for destruction in
societies.”

I gape at him.
What the hell?
What is
he saying? “Are you threatening me or warning me?” I ask.

“Warning you,” Gabriel says, averting his
eyes. “I’m not in the business of threatening Immags. Oh, fuck!”
Releasing his fork, he smacks his hand to his brow. “I’m hopeless
here!” he moans.

“What are Immags?” I ask him.

“They’re nothing,” he says angrily, though I
don’t believe he’s angry at me. His tone is drenched in self
loathing. “Forget I said anything. Eat your fish.”

“I told you I’m not hungry,” I tell him.

“Then don’t ask questions,” he says, and
resumes digesting his salad.

Remember to ask him what Immags are again.
Remember to ask him what Immags are again. Remember to ask him
–

“You’re still wondering, aren’t you?” Gabriel
asks intuitively.

I nod once.

Gabriel sighs. “Ask me later. I’ll consider
telling you. Maybe.”

“Excellent,” I reply. “I was going to anyway,
but thanks for the reminder.”

Looking annoyed, Gabriel starts on a slice of
pizza he brought back from the buffet. Silence falls between us for
a few minutes while he eats and I think, the length of my curiosity
abounding in all directions. But with no answers just yet, I’m
forced to occupy myself with other distractions.

Looking around the room I see parents hugging
kids, kids hugging parents, and feel an atmosphere of feverish
excitement. So many of these other kids are on their own for the
first time, independent and free. Just like me. I feel their
excitement around me. In me. I know what they’re feeling.

I hope my parents have left by now. Is my
roommate back yet?

“What are you thinking?” Gabriel asks, gazing
into my eyes with the turquoise of his own. “I want to know.”

I match his gaze. “Thinking about the glories
of going off to college. Of being independent. I don’t know about
you, but I’ve been looking forward to this day since halfway
through high school. Couldn’t come fast enough for me.”

“Hmm,” Gabriel muses, finishing his crust. He
chews and swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing down and up
deliciously. “Didn’t give it much thought,” he admits. “I’ve been
independent since I was eleven years old. Magasant is a – well, a
boarding school – I suppose.”

“That young?” I gasp. “What happened to your
parents?”

He stares at me, a gentle smile spreading his
lips upward. “Nothing,” he says. “They’re fine. It’s just that
where
I’m
from, boys and girls go off to boarding school
when they’re eleven. If they want to. And they always do. When the
signs show, you go.”

“What signs?” I’m breathless.

Gabriel blinks, and shakes his head. “I’ve
said
way
too much,” he says, staring me dead in the eyes.
“Who knows, Nora,” he continues delicately, “if I tell you much
more I may have to kill you.”

I gape at him. Is he kidding? He sounds
totally serious. Only his eyes are dancing with humor. Maybe that’s
part of the joke. I’m mostly amazed – more amazed than scared.
Somehow I can’t see Gabriel harming me, but maybe that’s part of
the danger. Part of his magical allure.

Silence falls between us. I stare at him,
half amazed and half horrified by his words. Since murderous
rampages have become as common in colleges as high schools, one can
never be too careful. Should I report him?

Gabriel on the other hand seems completely
unfazed. He’s gazing around the room, searching every nook and
cranny of the place. At one point he almost stands to see over the
heads of a group of jocks sitting together at a long table.

“Looking for someone?” I ask flatly,
warningly. I won’t take any more death threats. One more like that
and this motherfucker’s getting reported.

“No,” he responds calmly. “Just looking
around. I want to get an understanding of this place as soon as
possible, Nora. I want to know the students here. What they’re
like, how they differ, what their inclinations and orientations are
– that kind of information. I find it…
interesting
,” he
says, stretching the last word.

“Interesting?” I repeat. “What do you mean by
that? What do you mean by inclinations and orientations? Like –
like
sexual
orientations?”

Gabriel laughs, a guttural, musical laugh
that makes my ears sing. “Not exactly, Nora. No, in fact. Not
sexual. I’m interested in their interests and hobbies – pastimes, I
guess. But appetites too.”

“Appetites?” I repeat curiously. “So,” I
continue, a smirk breaking across my face, “are you learning
much?”

Shaking his head, he gives up his search.
“No,” he says stiffly, gazing into my eyes. “Not yet, anyway. But I
will – I’m a very tenacious man, Nora. I have a tendency to do what
I want and get what I please.”

“Boy,” I tell him. I’m determined to deflate
his massive ego, seemingly growing more massive by the second.

“Pardon?”

“Boy,” I repeat, staring back levelly.
“You’re a boy, Gabriel – not a man. You’re only seventeen. I don’t
know how things are done at Magasant, but in the rest of the
country an adult is eighteen or older. You’re still a boy.” I mean
this as a joke, or okay – yes, a takedown. His arrogance is
beginning to annoy me.

“I will show you I’m a man,” Gabriel says,
his tone deadly serious even as a smirk overtakes his lips. “And
perhaps I won’t even let you let me.”

There is no mistaking what he means by this,
and I feel my whole body clench in tight, agonizing delight. That
part of my body – yes,
down there
– is salivating for him.
Geez, I’m already wet!

Gabriel’s smirk widens at my stunned
expression of glee, and he leans back in his chair, crossing his
legs and folding his hands on his robes. “You should be reporting
me to campus police, shouldn’t you?” he says softly, his eyes never
leaving mine. “After what I just threatened to do.”

I swallow deeply, my gulp noticeably
traveling down my throat. “I’m not scared of you, Gabriel,” I tell
him, only half lying. I’m only half aware of what I’m saying, too.
The other half of my consciousness is telling the place between my
legs to shut the fuck up, because it’s screaming for him. It wants
him. Now.

“You have things to tell me,” I continue.
“Promises to keep. I want to know more about you. About what you’re
up to here. Where you’re from and why you plan on nosing into other
people’s business, least of all my own.” There. I showed him. If he
knows what’s good for him he’ll back off.

Gabriel leans forward. Turquoise eyes flash
dangerously. “I promised you nothing,” he says, enunciating the
final word. “Nothing, Nora. I don’t exist for you to like me. I
don’t exist for you to tolerate me. I asked for your help paying
the driver because I’m unfamiliar with your currency. That is all
our exchange ever needed to be.”

I don’t back down. Geez, I practically need
to fan myself right now. He’s so provocative! “Your eccentricities
are inviting,” I tell him honestly. “You can’t pretend you don’t
stick out in a crowd.”

“I didn’t invite you,” he tells me, sounding
annoyed. “You invited yourself, Nora. You called after me as
I
was leaving.”

“What’s your point?” I ask.

Gabriel raises his eyebrows. “My point, Nora,
is I am who I am. What you see and hear is what you will see and
hear. I’m not here at Evergreen to make friends and have people
love me. I’m here on
business
. This is my job. Being here,
doing this. And I’m very good at my job.”

I lean forward to match him. “And you will
find,” I begin, “that I’m very good at
my
job, which is now
to learn everything I can about your job. My business is
discovering your business.”

Gabriel stands. “I have to leave.”

“Wait,” I say hastily. “You –”

“I know,” he interrupts, gazing around the
room as though worried that armed guards are about to crash through
the windows and grab him, “but I have to leave now.” His hand
fastens around the short, thin stick in his robe pocket, then he
releases it as he glances back at me, suddenly nervous. “We can
talk later, Nora.”

“I don’t have your number,” I say hurriedly,
standing too. “Give it to me and I’ll send you a text.”

“I don’t have a phone,” Gabriel tells me, his
mischievous smile returning. “Don’t worry, I’ll find you.” Before I
can say another word he’s gone. Dispatched like black robes caught
in a high wind.

* * *

I’m walking back to my dorm. The sun is
setting fast into a multicolored sky. My brain is whirring crazily,
trying to remember everything Gabriel told me. I can’t figure him
out. What did he mean by “I will find you?” How can he? True, a
school of five thousand students isn’t the biggest ever. But it’s
still hard to find somebody without a cell phone number. I’m
baffled by Gabriel.

And his arrogance! What gives him such a big
head? Sure, he’s pretty – okay fine,
stunningly
pretty – but
is that enough to warrant such self confidence? Maybe for boys it
is. For girls it’s definitely not. I find myself agitated and
annoyed by Gabriel’s command over my feelings.

Geez, I just met the boy and I’m already a
mess. Well, not quite a mess. But pretty hot over him. My wayward
thoughts stemming through my brain, I walk back to dorm building C
and up to the third floor and into my room.