Before I could fit the dark material together, my skin began to tingle and burn, the fine hairs on the back of my neck rising—as if someone was watching me. My heart drummed erratically as I peered out, frantically searching.
There was no sign of Bridezilla and the Groom of Doom. No sign of life whatsoever, in fact. Shaking now, I sealed the crack, blocking out the night completely. But I didn’t walk away. I stood there for one minute, two, trying to get my body under control.
Gritting my teeth, I jerked the curtains apart. Saw movement to the left. I zeroed in on it and thought I saw a tall, muscled body dressed in black. Thought that body stopped, turned—and glowing violet eyes met mine.
* * *
Will anything ordinary ever happen to me? I wondered the next morning as I trudged onto the bus. After maybe or maybe not seeing Cole, I’d gone to sleep, as planned, but bad dreams had awoken me. I’d tried to read but had ended up pacing and obsessing about those violet eyes.
Had I seen them, or had I imagined them?
Imagined, surely. Cole would never have stood outside my house, simply watching me. Plus, he didn’t know my address. I hadn’t even given it to Kat.
As lost in thought as I was, I didn’t remember to keep my head down and my gaze averted. At the back of the bus, I spotted Justin Silverstone, with his dark hair and puppy dog brown eyes.
He gave me a warm smile and waved me over. I couldn’t leave him hanging; his feelings would be hurt. And I couldn’t hurt his feelings because I kinda owed him. As I lugged my thousand-pound backpack to the end of the bus, I noticed that the dark-haired girl who sat across from him was glaring at me. I didn’t know her and had no problem ignoring her.
Justin slid to the window, making room for me. I eased down beside him. “Hi,” he said. He smelled nice, like some kind of fruity cereal and toothpaste.
“Hi.” His hair wasn’t brown, as I’d assumed. The morning sun cast bright rays through the glass, highlighting the strands. He was a redhead. In fact, the strands suddenly looked as if they were on fire.
“I’m Justin.”
“I know. You kinda made an impression in the cafeteria, and the girls filled me in. I’m surprised you don’t go by Ace or Killer, though.”
His eyes flashed with irritation. “Why? What’d they tell you about me?”
I wasn’t sure what I’d said to annoy him and hurried to soothe. “Only your name and the fact that you keep to yourself, but everyone at school seems to go by a nickname. Kat, Frosty, Bronx,” and because I didn’t want to single out Cole’s group, I made up a few. “Boo Bear, Jelly Bean, Freckles.”
The irritation vanished and he laughed. “Good point. What about you?”
“I’m Ali.”
“Just Ali? Not Angel or Snowcake?”
A bubble of amusement grew. “Snowcake? Really? That’s what you’d pick for me?”
He reached out, pinched a lock of my hair between his fingers, reminding me of Cole. “Yeah. Don’t kill the messenger, but it kind of fits.”
“Maybe I’ll just hurt the messenger a bit.” I felt at ease with him, I realized. I liked him. And, the good news was, he had to live close to me since we were riding the same bus. Maybe we could, I don’t know, hang out after hours. Clearly I needed to break up my routine. “By the way, I never thanked you,” I said. “Sorry about that.”
“Thank me for what?”
“For helping me out with Mr. Butthole that first day, as well as the pointer about Mackenzie.”
He raised a brow, even as he gave another laugh. A warm, natural sound, as if he found amusement in a lot of things and wasn’t afraid to enjoy himself. “Butthole? You are into nicknames, aren’t you?”
I shrugged.
“By the way, the trick with Buttle slash Butthole is to suck up. If you tell him that he’s the smartest teacher you’ve ever had, he’ll be yours all year.”
Buttle. Duh. How could I have forgotten that? “Is that what you did?”
“I manned up the words a little, but yeah.”
“Manned up,” I replied with a snort. “So you grunted a lot and drilled your knuckles into his shoulder.”
“That’s cave-manning up. Learn the difference.”
Now I was the one to arch a brow. “Show me the difference.”
“All right. Here’s manning up.” His expression took on an awed cast. “Dang, Mr. Buttle. My brain hurts from information overload. Good job, dude.”
The bus hit a bump, and we bounced in our seats. “So telling him that he clearly put the ‘fun’ in ‘funeral’ is out?” The moment I spoke, I wanted to snatch the words back. No way did I want to talk about funerals.
“Please, please, please tell him that. I’ll even walk you to his room the moment we get to school,” Justin said, but he must have noticed my discomfort a second later because he quickly changed the subject. “So, hey…I noticed you hanging with Kat.”
“Yes.”
“Have you known her long?”
“Met her over the summer. Why?”
A long, heavy pause; a shrug. “Last year she hung out with Cole Holland’s crowd, and she definitely will again. Once someone breaches their inner trust circle, that someone doesn’t leave it without a world of pain. I’d be careful if I were you, or she’ll drag you down with her.”
I liked Kat. A lot. I didn’t care who she hung out with or dated, even if that “who” had Cole on speed dial. As for Justin’s second warning, I wasn’t sure what was happening between me and Cole—something? Anything? Nothing?—but I wasn’t going to discuss it with him. I could barely even discuss it with myself.
“So you know him? Cole, I mean?” I asked, not changing the subject but making it clear relationships were off the menu.
Justin lost his smile. “Yep.”
“Have many people entered that trust circle of his?”
“Nope. Hey, we’re here.”
I looked around, and sure enough, the bus had stopped in front of the school, and all the other kids were standing, moving outside. The ride had never ended so swiftly.
I stood and strode down the aisle, Justin close on my heels. Automatically my gaze shot to the sky. A long stretch of baby blue, fat clouds inching by—but no rabbits. Thank you, Lord.
Justin stayed by my side as we entered the massive, winding building. “We should hang out this weekend,” he said.