The Goddess Test Boxed Set: Goddess Interrupted\The Goddess Inheritance\The Goddess Legacy (2 page)

I turned to leave, but as my hand touched the doorknob, she cleared her throat.

“Miss Winters? I just—I wanted to say I'm sorry. About your mother, I mean. I knew her a very long time ago, and—well. I'm very sorry.”

I closed my eyes. Everyone knew. I didn't know how, but they knew. My mother said her family had lived in Eden for generations, and I'd been stupid to think that I could get away with coming here unnoticed.

Blinking back tears, I turned the knob and hurried out of the office, keeping my head down in hopes that James wouldn't try to talk to me again.

Just as I turned the corner, I ran directly into what felt like a wall. I stumbled to the ground, the contents of my bag spilling out everywhere. My cheeks burned, and I tried to collect my things as I mumbled an apology.

“Are you okay?”

I looked up. The human wall stared down at me, and I found myself face-to-face with a varsity football jacket. Apparently James and I weren't the only ones running late that morning.

“I'm Dylan.” He knelt next to me, offering me a hand. I only took it long enough to sit up.

“Kate,” I said. He handed me my notebooks, and I snatched them from him, shoving them back into my bag. Two textbooks and five folders later, I stood and brushed off my jeans. That was when I noticed that he was cute. Not just in Eden, but cute by New York standards, too. Even so, there was something about the way he looked at me that made me want to pull away.

Before I could do just that, a pretty blonde girl attached herself to his side and gave me a once-over. She might've been smiling, but with the way she was leaning against him and
clutching his arm, she might as well have peed on him. He was clearly marked territory.

“Who's your friend, Dylan?” she said, tightening her grip.

Dylan looked at her blankly, and it took him a moment before he wrapped his arm around her. “Uh, Kate. She's new.”

Her fake smile grew, and she stuck out her hand. “Kate! I'm Ava. I've heard
so
much about you. My father, he's a real estate agent, told me all about you and your mom.”

At least now I had someone to blame for the leak in my room. “Hi, Ava,” I said, biting the bullet and taking her hand. “It's nice to meet you.”

Everything about the way she looked at me screamed she wanted nothing more than to take me out into the woods and bury me alive. “It's a pleasure to meet you, too.”

“What's your first class?” said Dylan, craning his neck to look at my schedule. “Calculus. I—we can show you where that is, if you'd like.”

I opened my mouth to object, figuring there was no reason to tempt fate more than I already was by continuing the conversation now that Ava was here, but before I could say a word, he took me by the elbow and paraded me down the hall. I looked at Ava, about to apologize for hijacking her boyfriend, but when I saw the flush of red on her cheeks and the clench of her delicate jaw, the words died on the tip of my tongue.

Maybe my mother would outlive me after all.

I wasn't spectacularly pretty. I wished I was, but I was just me. I'd never modeled, never had guys drooling over me, and never looked like much of anything next to the genetically blessed socialites that attended my preparatory school back home.

Which was why I couldn't for the life of me figure out why Dylan was still staring at me.

He stared at me all through History, all through Chemistry, and all through lunch. I ate alone at the empty end of a table, my nose buried in a book, not wanting to bother with making friends. I wasn't going to be here for very long anyhow, so there wasn't much of a point. Once this was over, I had every intention of going back to New York City and picking up what few pieces of my former life I'd be able to find.

Besides, I was used to eating lunch alone. I hadn't had many friends back home either, since my mother had gotten sick at the beginning of my freshman year, and I'd spent all my time outside of school camped out next to her hospital bed as she went through round after round of chemo and radiation. It hadn't left much time for sleepovers and dating and hanging out
with people who couldn't possibly understand what we were going through.

“Is this seat taken?”

Startled, I looked up, half expecting to see Dylan standing there. Instead, carrying a cafeteria tray full of french fries and wearing a huge pair of headphones that hid his elephant ears, James stared back at me, a jaunty grin on his face. I didn't know whether to be horrified or relieved.

Silently I shook my head, but it didn't matter anyway. He was already sitting. I stared at my book, trying my best to avoid looking at him in hopes he would go away. But the words blurred in front of me, and I read the same sentence four times, too aware of James to concentrate.

“Technically, you're in my seat,” he said conversationally. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out a full-size bottle of ketchup, and my eyes nearly popped out of my head as I abandoned all pretense of reading. Who carried around a bottle of
ketchup?

He must've seen my look, because as he squirted it all over the massive pile of fries, he nudged the tray closer to me. “Want some?”

I shook my head. I had an apple and a sandwich, but the arrival of James made me a little queasy. It wasn't that I didn't think he might be a sweet kid—I just wanted to be left alone. As an excuse to avoid talking to him, I took a bite of my apple, taking my time as I chewed. James started to dive into his fries, and for a few brief seconds, I hoped the conversation was over.

“Dylan's staring at you,” he said, and before I could swallow and make it clear I wanted nothing to do with Dylan, James nodded to something behind me. “Incoming.”

I frowned and twisted around, but Dylan was still sitting across the cafeteria. It didn't take long for me to see what he was talking about though. Ava was heading straight toward us.

“Great,” I muttered, dropping my apple onto a napkin. Was it really too much to ask that I get through my senior year unscathed? And if that really was so impossible, couldn't I at least have a day to settle before all of the drama started?

“Kate?” Ava's high-pitched voice was unmistakable. I sighed inwardly and forced myself to turn around, plastering an innocent smile on my face.

“Oh, hi—Ava, right?”

The corner of her lips twitched. I bet no one had ever asked for her name twice before.

“Right!” she said, her voice dripping with fake enthusiasm. “I'm so glad you remembered. Listen, I wanted to ask—do you have plans for tomorrow night?”

Other than scrub bedpans, change my mother's sheets, and measure out her medication for the following week? “I've got a few things going on. Why?”

She sniffed haughtily, but then seemed to remember that she was trying to play nice. “We're all having a bonfire in the woods—it's a pep rally, sort of, except it's not…well, you know. School-sponsored.” She giggled and tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “Anyway, I was wondering if you wanted to come. I thought it might be a nice way for you to meet everyone.” Glancing over her shoulder at a long table full of jocks, she grinned. “I know a few of them are really eager to meet you.”

Was that what this was about? She wanted to find me a boyfriend so Dylan would leave me alone? “I don't date.”

Ava's mouth dropped open. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Why not?”

I shrugged and glanced at James, who seemed to be determined not to look at Ava as he built an elaborate teepee made of fries. He wasn't going to be any help.

“Listen,” said Ava, dropping her fake act. “It's just a party. Once everyone meets you, they'll stop staring at you. It's no big deal. Just an hour or whatever, and then you won't have to do it again. I'll even help you with hair and makeup and stuff—you can borrow one of my dresses, if they're not too small.”

Did she even realize she'd just insulted me? I tried to refuse, but she kept going.

“Please,” she said, her voice cracking with sincerity. “Don't make me beg. I know it's probably not what you're used to in New York, but it'll be fun, I promise.”

I eyed her as she gave me a helpless, pleading look. She wasn't going to take no for an answer. “Fine,” I said. “I'll stay for an hour. But I don't need your makeup or your dresses, and after this, you leave me alone, all right?”

Her smile was back, and this time it wasn't fake. “Deal. I'll be at your place at seven.”

After I scribbled down my address on a napkin, Ava sauntered back to her table, her hips swaying outrageously as virtually every male eye turned her way. I glared at James, who was still focused on building that ridiculous hut. “Some help you are.”

“You seemed like you were handling it.”

“Yeah, well, thanks for throwing me to the wolves.” I reached over and took a fry from the plate, making sure it was the one that was holding up the structure. It came toppling down, but
James didn't seem to mind. Instead he popped another fry into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Well,” he said once he'd swallowed. “Seems you've officially made a date with the devil.”

I groaned.

 

As I walked to my car after the last bell had rung, James caught up with me, music blasting from the headphones that hung off his neck, but at least he was silent. I was still annoyed he hadn't stepped in and helped me with Ava, so I waited until I'd reached my car to acknowledge him.

“Did I drop something?” I said, unable to think of any other way to make myself clearer. I didn't want to talk to him.

“What? No, of course not. If you did, I'd give it back.” His bewilderment confused me. Did he really not understand?

I lingered with my key in the lock, wondering how long this was going to last. Was it just for today, or did I have to wait for my status as a new curiosity to wear off? I'd been stared at all day long, but no one but James, Dylan and Ava had approached me. I wasn't surprised. They'd all known each other since diapers, and they'd carved out their groups since kindergarten, more than likely. I had no place here. I knew it, they knew it, and that was perfectly fine with me.

“I don't date.”

The words came out before I could stop myself, but now that I'd said them, I had to keep going.

“Even back home, I didn't date. I just—I don't. It's nothing personal. I'm not making excuses. I really mean it—I don't date.”

Instead of looking disappointed or crestfallen, James stared at me with wide blue eyes and a blank expression. As the seconds
ticked by, I felt my cheeks grow warm. Apparently dating me had been the last thing on his mind.

“I think you're pretty.”

I blinked. Or maybe not.

“But you're at least an eight, and I'm a four. We're not allowed to date. Society says so.”

Eyeing him, I tried to figure out if he was being serious. He didn't look like he was kidding, and he was staring at me again, like he expected some sort of answer other than a snort.

“An eight?” I blurted. It was the only thing I could come up with.

“Maybe a nine, if you put on some makeup. But I like eights. Eights don't let it go to their heads. Nines do. And tens don't know how to be anything other than tens—like Ava.”

He was serious. I turned the key in the lock, wishing I had a cell phone so I could pretend someone was calling me. “Well…thanks, I guess.”

“You're welcome.” He paused. “Kate? Can I ask you something?”

I bit my lip to stop myself from pointing out that he already had. “Sure, shoot.”

“What's wrong with your mother?”

I froze, and my stomach churned. I didn't say anything for several moments, but he still waited for an answer.

My mother. Her illness was the last thing I wanted to talk about. It seemed wrong to spread it around, like I was somehow spreading her around as well. And selfishly I wanted to keep her to myself for these last few days, weeks, months—however much time I had left with her, I wanted it to be just her and me. She wasn't a freak show they could stare at or some piece of gossip
they could whisper back and forth, and I wouldn't let them do that to her. I wouldn't let them taint her memory like that.

James leaned against my car, and I saw a flicker of sympathy in his eyes. I hated being pitied. “How long does she have?”

I swallowed. For someone with zero social skills, he could read me like a damn book. Or maybe I really was that obvious. “The doctors gave her six months to live when I was a freshman.” I clutched my car keys so hard that the metal cut into my skin. The pain was a welcome distraction, but it wasn't enough to make the lump in my throat disappear. “She's been hanging on for a really long time.”

“And now she's ready.”

I nodded numbly. My hands were shaking.

“Are you?”

The air around us seemed unnaturally heavy for September. When I focused on James again, racking my brain for something to say that would make him leave before I started crying, I realized that nearly all of the other cars had left.

James reached around me and opened the door. “Are you all right to drive home?”

Was I? “Yeah.”

He waited as I climbed into the car, and he gently closed the door behind me. I rolled my window down as soon as I started the engine.

“Do you want a ride?”

He smiled, tilting his head as if I'd said something remarkable. “I've walked home every single day of high school so far, in the rain, snow, sleet, hail, doesn't matter. You're the first person to ever offer to drive me home.”

I blushed. “It's not a big deal. Offer stands, if you want.”

James stared at me for a moment, as if he were making some
sort of decision about me. “No, it's all right, I'll walk. Thanks though.”

I wasn't sure whether to be relieved or to feel guilty for wanting to feel relieved. “See you tomorrow then.”

He nodded, and I put the car into reverse. Right before I took my foot off the brake, James was next to the window again.

“Hey, Kate? Maybe she'll hang on a little longer.”

I said nothing, not trusting myself to keep my composure. He watched as I backed out of the space, and when I turned onto the main road, I caught a glimpse of him walking through the parking lot. He'd put his massive headphones on again.

Halfway home, I had to pull over and give myself time to cry.

 

Mom spent most of that night hunched over a basin retching, and I spent most of it holding her hair back. By the time morning came and Sofia, the day nurse, showed up, my mother barely had enough energy to call in, excusing me from my classes, and we both slept the day away.

After another round of chilling nightmares, I woke up shortly after four, my heart pounding and my blood cold in my veins. I could still feel the water fill my lungs as I struggled to take a breath, could still see the dark swirls of blood that surrounded me as the current pulled me under, and the more I struggled, the deeper I sank. It took me several minutes to calm myself down, and once I could breathe steadily again, I dabbed a bit of concealer underneath my eyes to hide the dark circles. The last thing I wanted was my mother to worry about me as well.

When I went to check on her, Sofia sat in a chair outside her door, humming softly to herself as she knit what looked like
half a puce sweater. She looked so cheerful that you would've never known my mother was dying on the other side of the door.

“Is she awake?” I said, and Sofia shook her head. “Did you attach her medication to her IV?”

“Of course, dear,” she said kindly, and I slumped my shoulders. “Are you going to the party tonight?”

“How do you know about that?”

“Your mother mentioned it,” she said. “Is that what you're wearing?”

I looked down at my pajamas. “I'm not going.” It was an hour with my mother that I would never get back, and we didn't have many of those left together. Sofia clucked disapprovingly, and I gave her a dirty look. “Wouldn't you do the same if she was your mother? I'd rather spend tonight with her.”

“Is that what she would want you to do?” said Sofia as she set down her knitting. “For you to put your life on hold while you wait for her to die? Do you think that's what would make her happy?”

I looked away. “She's sick.”

“She was sick yesterday, and she'll still be sick tomorrow,” said Sofia gently. I felt her warm hand in mine, and I pulled away, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “She'd want you to have a night to yourself.”

“You don't know that,” I snapped, my voice quavering with emotion that refused to stay buried. “You don't know her, so stop acting like you do.”

Sofia stood and carefully arranged her knitting on the chair. “I do know that all she talks about is you.” She gave me a sad smile I couldn't bear to see, so I looked at the carpet instead. “She wants nothing more than to know that you'll be happy and
okay without her. Don't you think an hour or two of your time might be worth giving her a little peace and reassurance?”