Wicked Sense (2 page)

Is he the…? No, he isn’t. Don’t be stupid, Skye. It can’t be that simple. Besides, he doesn’t radiate any energy. Follow the plan. Be ordinary.
Lie
low. Some contact is inevitable. I’m a little surprised, though. I thought the steroids junkie would be the one to chance it. Or maybe the stocky guy with a buzz cut
and lewd
eyes
. I brace myself anyway.

Don’t worry. Just be sulky and moody, and he’ll go away.

Even with m
y eyes still on my book, I can sense him forcing each step,
almost
marching. He arrives, hovers for a second, and says, “Hi.
”

I give him my prepared speech
; h
e replies with a somewhat reasonable argument. I choose the lesser of two evils—as I always do—and challenge him to say something interesting.
Besides, upon seeing him up close I notice an understated but undeniable cuteness.

That’s when I feel her
presence
. Soon she senses me too. When she removes her helmet,
the girl
reveals a short, spiky, almost-military haircut that she can only pull off because of her thick dark hair. I must admit, she puts on a show, dressed in several shades of brooding and black. Her fury is palpable. I wonder—

Oh, Goddess! She’s coming over. Is she insane? Everybody’s watching.

I’m paralyzed, and I’m uncertain if it’s her doing, or my own usual powerlessness. I just sit there, an easy target. Only one thought crosse
s my mind: don’t break the Veil.

She goes past the boy, who looks as petrified as I am. She leans over me and hisses, “What are you doing here?”

Her
magical signature overwhelms me. T
he tingling sensation becomes almost an electric shock.

She’s tall and muscular
like a fitness instructor.
S
he
may have an Athletics Charm.
Her quasi-
gray
eyes and
her
crimson full lips are the only colors on her.
I summon all my strength and get up, bluffing, hoping she doesn’t
realize
my distress
,
but
her black boots add to her height advantage
,
and she still towers over me.

I can feel all eyes
up
on us.
I get i
n her face and
do my best tough-girl impression. “Don’t do this,” I say. “Not here.”

“
You
came here.” She has a point.
“Don’t forget that.” She scans the school grounds
and
realizes we have attracted an audience
.
Her frown gets deeper.
She mercifully leaves.

I’m still recovering from all that negative energy when the boy turns to me and says, “So, old friends, you and Jane?”

“Jane?” I ask, stupidly. He looks at me in a weird way. My mistake. Another one.

I
glance
at her again
as she leaves
.
Not only
is she
a w
itch,
her magical energy flowing from her
in waves
,
but the vibe she
radiates
is so suffocating
that
it feels
as if
I
’ve
lost a part of my
soul
just by standing up to her.

I didn’t know they already had a
Sister
here.
Maybe Jane has no connection to the Mothers.
I thought
Connor
was
the
Seattle
overseer
.
Connor
.
All
this
grief
,
an
d
that’s
before I
see
him
again.

Th
at
Jane girl took away my balance. I vowed I wouldn’t feel sorry
for myself
anymore
, and I stand by it.
No more porcelain feelings
. N
o moping around because nobody gets me. And certainly no supposedly amazing boyfriend
who stomps on my heart.

I went through all that
right after
my
Daybreak
. It won’t happen again, thank you very much.
Nothing is worse than
this
curse
disguised as a blessing.
I wish it were as simple as shooting lightning from your fingertips. I can only long for bright sparkles that make everything right. Why can’t magic work as
it does
in fairy tales?

Stop
complaining
, Skye. Most people would sell their souls (some certainly try) to have this gift. Don’t be ungrateful.

Secretly-cute
boy looks at his cell. I
forgot
about him.

I
say to him. “That was awkward.
Listen
—
”

Before I finish, he jumps in. “You know what? Awkwardness is one of the biggest threats to our society. We should do something about it, create an organization, mobilize people. Raise awareness, you know? I’m all for social issues. Maybe we should hang out and discuss our plan of attack?”

His
words stun
me. I look down at my book to gain time.

He
doesn’t stop.
“What do you say? Should we meet and discuss the issue?
I
’ve
even got a log
line. ‘
Awkwardness awareness.’ Catchy.
”

I’m still
lost
.
My plan was to remain
inconspicuous,
quietly
make a few friends , and investigate. Well, the quiet ship has sailed
away
after
the Jane confrontation.

He’s trying so hard, and I
feel a speck of guilt. His enthusiasm
is part
ly
my Allure Charm’s
fault, after all. I wish I could turn it off sometimes.
 

The boy
waits patiently while I try to snap out
of it. Oh, okay. I just hope I w
on’t regret it later.
I tell him, “Sure.”

He walks back, bea
ming. I just made someone’s day
.

I think about returning to my book, but somehow another girl
sneaked
up on me while I was distracted.

I
t’s bee
n an eventful morning.
When I saw the weather, I picked this table outside to be alone, but it seems chilly winds and menacing clouds don’t scare people around here.

I create
a mental catalog of everybody in the parade:
hoodie
-jeans-sneakers boy with overdue haircut
and weird speeches
, psychotic biker witch, and now, in front of me,
fake-tanned
skinny blonde with possible posture problems in her future.

She tells me her name is Pri
s
cilla, and then she
go
es
over the new-girl
questionnaire.
Her candor is
disarming. Name? Skye.
Senior? Yup
. Where from?
New York
, London before that.
Accent? British
. Kind of
trying to get rid of it
.
Know anybody? No
pe
. 

Priscilla shakes her head in
s
ecretly-cute boy’s direction,
her heavily highlighted shoulder-length hair billowing as if
out of a
conditioner
ad.
“What did Drake want with you?” Wow, she
is
direct. And
now
I
know
his name.

“I’m not sure yet,” I say. Well, I guess he wants what all boys want, but I try to give her a chance to gossip. “Do you know him?”

“
Kinda
. Word is he’s a good kisser.” She looks a little distracted.

That’s not what I was
expecting to learn
. “Really? Well, we’re not there yet.” So, quiet Drake has a reputation.
Were Priscilla and Drake
involved
? I wonder if she’s here to tell me to back off.
S
omehow I can’t picture these two as a couple,
though,
and I dismiss the thought.

Priscilla sits down and pulls down on my arm, making me sit next to her. I don’t resist.
Our lunch table is next to the building, and many other tables circle us. With everyone
still
staring, I feel like I’m onstage.

S
he lowers her voice. “Listen, I’m not going to lie to you.” Her hand
rests on
my arm in a sisterly touch. “
You need me. I don’t know the school you came from, but this one is a mess: gossips, backstabbers, false friends. Luckily for you, I’m the helping type
. Do you want to hang out
?”

While she talks, I take a good look at her. She
is wearing
clothes just long enough to avoid detention. Eyebrows plucked so thinly they’d be dist
racting
if it weren’t for
her big green eyes getting all the attention. Even her pouty lips seem hand-drawn.
She looks like the in-crowd queen.
It’s hard to imagine what a drop-dead gorgeous girl like her wants with me.

S
ince I’m here to make
friends
anyway, I accept it. Besides, her aura is mostly pink
. It bodes well. “Sure,” I say.

The bell rings.
Priscilla
stands
, pulling me up with her. She asks about my
next
class and tells me to follow her.
S
he bosses me around in such a gentle and sweet way that it doesn’t bother me.

I got three bizarre new connections i
n
just
a few minutes. A busy morning
. T
he Mothers
would be
proud.

As I throw my verbal Hail Mary
, I
already
know it sounds desperate.

“Sure
,” she says after a while. She gives me a smile, and I want to frame it.

Daydreaming
, I smile back
and walk slowly to my friends.

I sneak a peek to my cell again: “
ASK HER OUT STUPID.” Sean uses
roughly one-
third of the text to offend me. How
ever, against all odds, it turns
out to be useful advice.

He
is almost jumping up and down
when I arrive back at our table
. “So,
how did
it
go
?”

“Not bad,
”
I say,
still relishing that smile
.

Sean
doesn’t let
it
go.
“Do you have a date?”

“I do.
I guess.”

He
smirks
. “
Hold on.
You guess?”

“
Well, that’s the thing.” I scratch my head.
“
I’m not sure.”

Boulder hides his face
behind
his overgrown hands. “You’re a disgrace.”

Sean
guffaws
.
Of course, I want to punch his bra
ins out. Why is
it
that the closer
the friend, the more you feel entitled to punch him? Reasons are aplenty: maybe he embarrassed you, or told you a hard truth, or you want
him
to see the truth.
T
here’s always a punch-worthy opportunity between friends.

“Your level of
dork
i
ness
is staggering
,
”
Boulder continues.

“I know.”
I feel like punching Boulder too, but that’s tantamount to suicide.