CHAPTER THREE

 

 

My plan to grab a quick snack from the cafeteria and head back to my room to eat in peace hit a major snag the second I stepped into the huge room and ran into someone. Literally. Not a little “oops, sorry” bump, but a full-on slamming into the back of a girl who appeared from nowhere as I entered. My apology died on my lips as she swung around to face me.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

She jabbed me in the chest, hard, and I struggled not to wince. Like I’d give the troll with the magenta Mohawk, ten eyebrow piercings, and a nasty lower lip bar the satisfaction. Usually, I’d walk away from confrontation, but after the day I’d had? I needed to let off a little steam.

Hoping I’d keep all my teeth intact on my first day here, I tilted my chin up, eyeballing her. “Me? I’m just getting some food. You, on the other hand, need to visit an optometrist.”

“Are you implying I can’t see where I’m going?” Her nostrils flared, making a tiny diamond stud twinkle in false friendliness.

I shrugged and waved my hand in front of my face as if shooing away an annoying fly. “Not implying anything. Stating a fact.”

She bared her teeth and I inadvertently found myself searching for fangs. “So that’s why Drake was all over you earlier.”

“Drake?”

What did scary biker dude have to do with magenta Mohawk? “Don’t know where you get your intel from, but you’re wrong.”

Her vicious leer made me wish I’d apologized and backed away. “I saw you cozying up under that tree.” Her dismissive glance flicked over me. “You’re so not his type, but I guess that badass attitude you got going on kept him amused for a few seconds.”

Her possessiveness clued me in. Mohawk was biker dude’s girlfriend. “You and Drake are together?”

The rings in her right eyebrow quivered in outrage. “What of it?”

I tapped my lower lip, pretending to think. “I guess that makes you the Duck?” I swear her eyes glowed crimson just like Drake’s, and I braced, realizing too late that antagonizing people on my first day probably wasn’t the way to go.

To my amazement, she let out a ripping laugh akin to a braying donkey, drawing the attention of every student in the cafeteria. She planted hands on her hips and cocked her head to one side. “Don’t go getting any ideas, ’cause you and I are never going to be friends. But you’re okay for a newbie.”

It wasn’t until she’d spun around and clomped away on her purple Doc Martens that I realized my hands were shaking. Swiping the clamminess down the side of my jeans, I headed for the fridge. I grabbed a strawberry milk and an apple, keeping my head down the whole time. I didn’t want to run into possessive psychos or even the tentative friends I’d made in Quinn and Raven. All I wanted was to head back to my room, curl up on my bed, and process the monumental first day I’d had.

After chugging back the milk, I lay on my bed and crunched the apple, brooding with every mouthful. I might have survived my first day at boarding school for nutcases, but I felt just as isolated here as I had at Wolfebane High. I’d hated having to come here, but a small part of me had hoped a new start would make me feel different. Like I fit in or belonged or something.

Yeah, like I was desperate to fit in with a bunch of kooks. I lobbed the apple core in the trash and swung my legs over the side of the bed. I sat up and let the silence wash over me.

I don’t know what I’d expected from this place, but it certainly wasn’t anything this civilized. Apart from the few odd ones I’d encountered, the rest of the students appeared fairly normal. The facilities were classy, and my dorm resembled an eighteenth-century hotel room, complete with rolltop desk, fancy bookcase, and a bed designed for late mornings and skipped classes.

I reached for my iPod, jammed one of the pieces into my ear, and ramped up the music, my heart doing a weird little turnover as the first strains of Michael Bublé’s latest song filtered through. Not my choice in music, but he was Nan’s favorite—a good stand in for Frank Sinatra apparently—and listening to his soulful voice and soppy music made me feel close to her at a time I needed her most. I wished my life could go back to the way it had always been, before the visions, before Nan’s stroke, before cute guys I couldn’t stop thinking about.

If Nan were here, she would’ve been overjoyed I was showing interest in a “boy,” as she called any guy under forty. She’d urged me to date, to go out with my friends. And therein lay the problem. I didn’t have any. My cell? Textless. Email account? Bare except for the usual spam for drugs and enlargements.

Sure, I’d had study partners and a spot at the nerd table at lunch if I wanted it, but nine times out of ten, I’d preferred eating outside under Wolfebane High’s oldest oak tree, my nose buried in a book, effectively shutting out the world and how damn lonely I really was. I’d never spoken to anyone at my old high school the way I’d spoken to almost every person who’d crossed my path today. I’d stood up to them all: Colt, Drake, Brigit, Mohawk. And what had happened? They respected me for it.

Maybe that was my mistake. Being a smartass wasn’t conducive to flying under the radar, like I usually did. Here, guess it was hard to go unnoticed when I was considered gifted. Gifted, my ass.

These visions were a crock. I didn’t ask for them, but I had to put up with them regardless, kind of like a toothache. As Michael continued to croon, I slipped off my ballet flats, lay down on the covers, and closed my eyes.

One day down.

I hated to think how many to go.