Tremble (2 page)

The harsh dril of the bel exudes from the open door behind me.

“You’l be late for first.” She cuts a look to the hal and motions for me to scoot.

My father would have never approved of this. Unfortunately, there seems to be no end to the moronic decisions my mother is capable of making. I wish my father hadn’t died because I’m certain he would have never al owed me to attend the first day of school looking like a leopard print whale.

A rush of bodies flow in both directions at once. Everyone is polished; the scent of new clothes is heavy in the hal s.

I feel light headed as I step outside the door.

***

In the heated rush to get to class, I’ve somehow become invisible to the bustling student body. Not until the hal s start to thin do people stare at me openly—slap one another to attention and point.

That’s when I see him—Logan. He looks perfect in his jeans and crisp white t-shirt, a navy backpack slung lazily over one shoulder. His eyes round out in horror when he first takes me in—he stops midflight on his way to class.

“Logan!” I throw my arms around him, breathe his clean scent before I note how rigid his body is, how unmoved he is by my efforts. With his hands glued safely to his jeans, he backs away.

“Watch where you’re going.” He huffs, but the undercurrent of his expression is one of shock and sadness.

“Help me,” I beg. I reach over and clasp his hand. I want speak to him telepathical y.

His eyes soften, they plead with me to understand. Not here, Skyla, he says. He removes my hand from his so I can’t hear his thoughts.

Logan is staunch about us not being seen together in public. He reviewed the rules over the phone last night—ten different ways. No physical contact, no polite exchanges, if he walks down the hal I should look the other way and likewise. He’s persona non grata to me. Al that’s great, in theory and al , since it’s going to take the target off our backs, with the tiny exception of I can’t act one way when I feel another. I’m completely in love with him.

The bel rings a slow shril cry, lets al of my anguish out in a way I never could.

Logan turns and walks away like he never knew me.

Chapter Three

Screwed

First period, English with Mr. Montgomery. I tuck the schedule into my pocket before opening the door. The teacher, a tal man with a wreath of grey hair, busies himself writing on the board. Al eyes have magnetized in my direction, wide blank stares, opened mouths, a low filtering titter of laughter circles the room. I see Gage near the back motioning towards an empty seat in front of him.

I swoop across the room with accelerated efficiency. I don’t recognize any of the other faces, just Gage, my new boyfriend per Logan’s list of rules.

“You look good,” he whispers. His dark glossy hair is combed back in neat waves. His cobalt eyes attest to the fact he’s tel ing the truth.

Gage would think I looked good if I walked in with mud on my face and curlers. It’s a cute love induced physical blindness he seems to come down with whenever I’m around.

“I have something for you,” he says.

“Like clothes?” I’m slightly intrigued.

“No, like jewelry.”

Gage holds out a thick class ring with embossed lettering. A red stone sits in the middle like a bulbous drop of blood.

He hands it over and I examine it, feel the heft of the shiny chunk of silver.

“I always thought when I had a girlfriend I’d give her my ring. You know…” He shrugs off the later part of his sentence.

“So you could claim her?”

His dimples ignite, but no smile. Gage is immaculate looking. Any girl would be lucky to have him, except me. I’m more of a Logan girl myself. My heart sinks at the thought of our little game of keep away. Logan and I are both Celestra, both prime targets for the Countenance, a faction of wicked angels that have no problem capturing me for my genetic material. That’s al I am to them, a glorified science experiment—a host that creates the blood they need to fil their precious vials.

My lips twist as I gaze into the ring. “You’re not very romantic, you know that?” A fact he’s clearly demonstrated.

“Here.” He passes me a notebook and a pen.

“Great. I can write my wedding vows—we’re practical y linked for eternity.”

He pul s a face. Gage is a Levatio; he has the gift of knowing and he’s convinced himself we’re going to get married. And wel , he’s sort of convinced me too—which sucks because I think that might be taking the whole stay away from Logan in public thing a bit too far.

“You know what I love?” Gage leans in.

“What?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

“How easy this is going to be for me.”

I turn back around. He’s acclimating way too fast to Logan’s plan. Anybody who agrees to play the part of boyfriend to help out his cousin is a bit demented in the first place. Gage has a lust-driven screw loose and this thrown together relationship is only going to feed his stalker-like tendencies.

I unclasp the necklace Logan gave me a few weeks ago from around my neck and thread Gage’s ring onto it. I hope it catches Logan’s eye at some point today. I hope he chokes on the reality of seeing me with Gage. I think I could love Gage if I tried, and that scares me far more than an entire faction of wayward angels.

***

El is Harrison, a stoner known from parties and parties past, fol ows Gage and me over to a table at nutrition with his permanent half-closed eyes and plants himself next to Briel e my neighbor slash newfound best friend. My family moved to Paragon Island this past summer, but I swear it feels like I’ve been here for years—centuries maybe.

“I am so sooo sorry!” Briel e offers a jostling hug. She is way too jubilant to be sorry. I’m pretty comfortable marinating in al this anger, and I’m stil not entirely convinced this day isn’t one long nightmare.

“You are so going to pay if you knew anything about this.” I say it slowly and mean every word.

“I knew nothing. Besides, you look fabulous.” She exaggerates the last word. “Where’s Logan?” She pans the vicinity.

She knows nothing about that either.

“Around.”

“You guys fight?” Her face blanches out. Briel e has impeccable bone structure and apple green eyes. If we weren’t on some God-forsaken island in the middle of nowhere I’d swear she could be a model. And yet with al that super-human beauty she chooses to date my step-moron, Drake.

He comes up behind her and gives her left boob a squeeze.

“Oh gross.” I go over and sit down next to Gage, sliding his ring back and forth on my necklace like a zip line.

“Looks good.” Gage’s eyes have a way of smiling for him.

“Guess you peed your circle,” I say, twisting the ring with my fingers. “How many girls have worn this?”

“No one. I’m giving this to you Skyla. I’d like for you to have it.” His eyes widen a bit apprehensively.

He looks genuine, like he’s stepped outside of the realm of our agreement and it endears him to me.

A soft rumble of laughter emits from his throat as he pushes his shoulder into mine. He waits until El is walks over to a group of passing girls before leaning in.

“There’s a party Friday night.”

“Where?” Not that I’m completely apprised of the who’s who here on Paragon— I’m stil trying to make my way around the island.

“El is’ house.” He ticks his head in his direction. Figures—it’s sort of his department. “You’re going to have a fight. It’s gonna get ugly.” A look of genuine sadness sweeps across his face.

“Who am I going to fight with?” Obviously Michel e. I stil have her flesh underneath my fingernails—of course she wants revenge.

“Logan.” He gives his name in one quick whisper.

My head pul s back an inch.

“I’m not fighting with Logan.” This reeks of stupid. “I thought you were tel ing me something about my future.” I inform him. Not some stupid concoction Logan dreamt up to stick a fork in our public super couple status.

“I am.” A grim smile appears. “Plus he wants to.”

“So he ran this al by you? You have a play by play on how it’s al going down? The two of you map it out on a spreadsheet al night long?”

“Skyla, this is serious. It’s like you’re not getting it.”

“And then what? I run to you from across the room and beg you to save me from big bad, Logan? Is that the part where I massage your tonsils with my tongue?”

He blinks into me, just staring.

“You’re welcome to do that anytime.” He gives a wry smile. “But no, I take you home. Then, at the next party we can oral y examine our nonessential organs or wrestle in front of the masses, either or—both if you want.”

I’m starting to wonder if Logan real y wants me. There’s no way he could feel about me as intensely as I do about him and agree to something like this. It would kil me to see him with anyone else.

As if on cue, the bel rings and Logan struts by, moving in rhythm with a beautiful blonde who chats him up on the side.

I’m dying already.

Chapter Four

Party

Friday night comes cloaked in fog, the silent impression of a Cheshire cat moon smiles lazily in and out of the ethereal veil.

The only contact I managed to have with Logan this week was a handful of texts and phone cal s. Our entire relationship, reduced to symbols and midnight murmurings.

Briel e drives Drake and me over to El is’, located in the gated community of Paragon Estates. He’s a neighbor of Gage and Logan. I’ve already made Logan promise he’d come to my house later—the butterfly room—the secret room in my attic that belonged to Chloe before me.

I told Logan we could meet at his house, but he said it would discredit the events that would precede it. He hasn’t even hinted at an argument, and I didn’t give him the satisfaction of acknowledging that I know it’s coming.

Gage probably apprised him of the fact that he let me in on their secret mission to publical y obliterate our relationship. I’m sure Logan is expecting me to act accordingly like a good little girlfriend, but I’m not going to. I think we’re going about this al wrong. We should fight the Counts on their own turf and get our lives back on track instead of running in the other direction like a bunch of cowards. Logan seems to think we need a detailed plan of how that might work, but I say we should bal s out fight and figure out the details as we go along.

The party is outside in El is’ ranch-like backyard, under a canopy of overblown paper lanterns that il uminate a dul glow. The pool is lit up a stunning glacial blue. There are more bodies wandering around the property than I’ve seen on campus al week.

“Where’d al these people come from?” I ask Briel e.

“East,” she says, waving wildly at someone buried deep in the crowd. With only two high schools on the Island, it surprises me I haven’t seen this mass mingling session before. “Most everybody just got back from vacation,” she continues. “The ones that are like sick rich never stay on Paragon,” she says, answering the question I didn’t bother to ask.

I scan the crowd for Logan; instead, I see El is and his stoner friends laughing with a group of girls I’ve never seen before. It’s freaky how many of these girls look drop-dead beautiful. It’s like some superior race of goddesses accidental y dropped off their spawn on the island, and now they’re infiltrating the ranks.

“Boo,” Gage whispers hot in my ear from behind.

“Where’s Logan?” I don’t pretend to play it cool. I haven’t been apart from him this long since I moved here. I’ve seen more of his dead girlfriend than I have of him this entire week.

“What do you care?” There’s a twinge of jealousy in his voice, and it pinches my insides.

“Irritated much?” I blink a smile. I don’t like the thought of inadvertently leading Gage on. The last thing I want to do is hurt him.

Then I see him. Logan looks like a god. The gold highlights in his hair are set off by the incandescence of the lanterns strung up on fishing line crisscrossing the pool. His arms look huge bulging out of his t-shirt. He wears a devilish grin from ear to ear looking down at someone and nodding. He shifts slightly, then I see her.

“Who’s that?” I ask no one in particular.

“Carly!” Briel e squeals and trots over, nearly fal ing in the pool on the way.

I want to say, who the hell’s Carly, but don’t. Already I don’t like her and her long caramel hair, her simple t-shirt and jeans. She looks like someone I used to go to school with back in L.A., some spoiled stuck-up slut I couldn’t stand. I wonder if that’s reason enough not to like this Carly person. Real y I just hate her for talking to Logan, for making him smile the way I do, or used to.

Gage pushes his hand into the smal of my back and leads me over.

“She just got back from New York. You’l like her. She’s total y nice.”

My stomach bottoms out. I don’t like the way Gage just referred to her as totally nice. Gage hardly pays attention to girls other than me, which causes a twinge of jealousy to spiral through my stomach. Maybe this is a good thing—a Godsend even. If Gage fal s hard for Carly, he’l cease and desist my faux boyfriend status. We can be friends, the highest form of appreciation I ever want to give to him. And, of course, Logan wil be out of his mind once he sees I’m back on the free market, out from beneath the safety of his wel thought-out plan. I don’t get why we need to flat out ignore each other. His words come back to me from a couple weeks ago, two Celestra dating are too stupid to live. So what about two Celestra who are just friends? What’s the deal with that?

“Carly girl.” Gage lunges into a hug. I watch as his hands smooth up and down her back as he does it.

“Gage!” The light voice of a three-year-old escapes from her lips, it’s ultra feminine, phony, and it makes me dislike her even more. “I brought you guys some stuff. You’l have to come over tomorrow night, we’l catch up and I can give you your prezies.” Another strike.

“Cool. I’m there.” Logan knocks back the rest of his soda before launching the can into a trash bin with missile-like precision.

Cool? He’s there? And what about me? He hasn’t even acknowledged me yet.

“This is Skyla,” Gage introduces us. “She moved into Chloe’s old house.”