Volition (13 page)

I couldn’t speak, so I just struggled through the pain. It would have to end soon. This wasn’t going to kill me.

Colin shoved his way through the crowd until he got to the front. People stayed parted from where he shoved long enough that I could see what was going on. Casper had one of his latest victims cornered up against the locker bay, and he was beginning his ritual intimidation. Whoever it was must be new.

As much as I loved Casper, I couldn’t stand it when he did this. Although I might not be a saint, I didn’t like watching him come to blows with innocent students just so he could cause a stir to show his power or maybe get suspended for a week until his family donated enough to the school for a new wing.

“Oh shit,” Colin said loudly among the whispers.

Catherine pulled me up and led me over to Colin, who put his hand around my waist to help me stand.

When I saw Casper’s latest victim, I knew why my lunch was coming back up.

It was impossible, yet clearly it wasn’t because I didn’t think the hallucinations I had over him were visual, only visceral. Before, when I was with Jesse, it was just a feeling. It wasn’t like I was seeing ghosts or anything. However, when I saw him standing before me in the middle of the high school’s hallway, I started to consider my sanity.

Jesse Elliott, Groundskeeper for Hale Plantation, was somehow in a fight with my boyfriend on the first day back at school.

Jesse finally saw me looking around Casper. The surprise didn’t register on Jesse’s face like I was sure it did on mine. He wasn’t having a visceral reaction to this like I was.

That could only mean one thing. He knew I went to school here.

Colin handed me off to Catherine.

She clasped on to me like I was going to turn to goo in her hands. “Tate, what’s happening?”

Colin reached around Casper to grab his fists, and it turned into a fight between two best friends. Casper might be bigger than Colin, but he was far too strung out to get in a good punch. Colin had him on the ground in less than a minute.

When Colin was done, he turned to Jesse. “I don’t owe you anymore, mate.”

Catherine’s voice was shaking as she reached out to a barely bleeding Colin. “Who is that?”

The look in her eyes told me she already knew.

“That,” Colin informed her, “is Jesse Elliott.”

“You know, Tate, you really pull through. You didn’t vomit on your cotillion dress, but you did vomit on the first day of school.”

I was curled up in the fetal position in the back of Colin’s car with Catherine sitting shotgun.

“Colin, shut up.” Then, to me, she said, “Tate, I’m really worried about you. How’s your stomach? Do you want some crackers?”

She handed me a saltine, and I crumpled it into my mouth. It tasted like sawdust.

“Isn’t this what you fed that fish you stole from prom?”

“I didn’t steal it. I saved it,” she said defensively. “And no, those were corn flakes.”

“You fed a fish corn flakes? Doesn’t that seem the least bit wrong to you?”

She shook her head. “I didn’t have time to go get fish food.”

“For two months?”

“Ladies, ladies,” Colin cut in. “I don’t really think this matters, seeing as the fish is dead now. Let’s just get back to Tate’s overwhelming summer problem that has apparently followed her all the way to school. Really though, Tate, how does he have enough money to go here?”

“Maybe he’s one of the new scholarship students,” Catherine offered. “I could check up on him for you when I do the new-student orientation next period.”

“Please do,” I said, taking another cracker out of the stack. “I don’t want to deal with my boyfriend beating Jesse up every chance he gets for no apparent reason. Why do you think he picked Jesse anyway?”

“You know Casper. It was probably just a coincidence.”

Catherine was right. Casper wasn’t one to be vindictive. He wasn’t me. He didn’t plot. He simply acted.

This was fate kicking me in the ass.

Colin dropped us off at the front of the school while he went to go find Casper to calm him down. Catherine went to the new-student orientation while I went to journalism.

Although I hated every other subject, I didn’t hate this class. I’d spent every single year building my way up to be editor-in-chief, and no one was going to ruin my moment.
Nothing
would ruin my moment—not even my stupid asshole boyfriend who snacked on innocents between fourth and fifth period.

Everyone had already arrived since class was about to start. I took a deep breath and walked into the classroom, relieved that this would be a Jesse-free zone. Most likely, Catherine would be dealing with him down the hall.

“Hello, everyone,” I began. “I’m Tate McKenna, and I’m your worst nightmare.”

I’d spent half the summer practicing that line in my head. It had to be delivered in a way that made them believe it. I liked watching them while they shifted nervously in their chairs. I liked feeling wicked. I liked everyone else to be scared of me. Maybe I was worse than Casper.

That was why I was dating him.

I was about to start on the next bit of my well-practiced speech when two dark heads appeared in the doorway.

“Sorry,” the girl said. “We went to the wrong classroom at first.”

The grappling hooks in my stomach pulled, and I felt like I was about to be sick again.

“Sit,” I ordered them.

They did.

Thankfully, Jesse and Jasmine also looked like they were going to be sick. I let the malice seep into my voice for the rest of my introduction, and I directed every bit of it at the two of them, sitting right in front of me like they hadn’t ruined everything.

“Now, get to work.”

The rest of the class scurried off to start their work while I stared at Jasmine and Jesse. Thankfully, I’d worn my best evil first-day-of-school outfit, complete with a black leather jacket and five-inch heels.

“Shouldn’t you be at new-student orientation?”

“Yes,” Jasmine answered meekly. “But the girl over there sent us here because she knew you wouldn’t want us to miss your class.”

“I’m sorry,” I said in my faux-pleasant voice. “Who sent you?”

“Catherine,” Jesse spoke up. “I think her name was Catherine.”

Now

CATHERINE’S APARTMENT ISN’T big enough for the both of us.

“Tate, do you sleep?”

“I sleep. I just don’t sleep when you do, Catherine.”

“I think you’re a vampire.”

“I am.”

She takes three steps over to her fridge and pulls out a carton of milk. “No, but really, I think we should go apartment-shopping today.”

I fall back onto her bed and groan in protest. I have some money saved up, but I gave up the right to my entire trust fund when I left Charleston. The only way to get it back would be to go and make up with Lara, and even then, it wouldn’t be guaranteed.

“I have a surprise for you, but you’ll have to get going sometime this century,” Catherine tells me.

“Fine, but if it involves Hayden, I’m killing you both.”

“Fine.”

“Catherine,” I complain, “why are we looking at apartments that Jay-Z and Beyoncé can afford? This is ridiculous.”

A leggy brunette real estate agent is trying to show me a giant penthouse placed inside of a clock tower. From the outside, you would have no idea anyone could possibly live inside. The views are absolutely breathtaking, but I’m not sure I could afford this place even with Hale help.

“I’ll let you two talk it over,” the real estate agent tells me as she walks into the next room.

Megan? Miranda? I’m not sure what her name is. I don’t really care.

“Where’s my surprise?” I ask Catherine impatiently. “Have you decided to buy this for me?”

“Shut up. It’s on its way.”

“It?”

“It.”

I tell Megan Miranda that I’d like to look at the next listing, but before I can walk out the door, I’m assaulted.

“Hello, love,” Colin says, engulfing me with cigarette smoke.

I take a deep breath.

Megan Miranda starts to wave her hands in front of her face frantically and coughs dramatically.

“Excuse me!” Her shrill voice could cut steel. “There’s no smoking in the building.”

“Oh,” Colin says, stomping his cigarette out on the million-dollar floor. “Excuse me.”

He’s not sorry at all.

I hug him tighter, pulling at the back of his coat as if to convince myself that he’s really here.

“Was this a good enough surprise?” Catherine gives me a look. She kisses Colin quickly and grips his now cigarette-free hand.

No one bends to pick up the ashes on the floor, and Megan Miranda stares at us like we’re all crazy. She throws her hands up in the air and walks away, muttering to herself.

Welcome to New York City.

“So, is this your new house? Can we have a party?”

Colin drags Catherine by the hand into the kitchen, which is bigger than her entire apartment.

“Oh, yes,” I tell him as I open a few drawers. “What can I make you to drink?”

“I’ll have a martini—shaken, not stirred,” he says in a British accent.

“Coming right up, Mr. Bond.” I pretend to make a martini.

Catherine shakes her head. “You two are ridiculous.”

“Just like old times,” Colin says. He looks just as dashing as always. “We might need some peyote.”