Downcast (17 page)

Morris peered at his screen, and Helen craned her neck to get a glimpse of it as well. She frowned and shared a questioning look with Morris, who raised his eyebrows and shook his head.

"Nothing?" I asked incredulously.

"Nope," Helen replied.

"Nada," Morris added.

"What about my eyes?" This was just getting too weird, now.

"What about your eyes?" Helen asked, studying them.

"Do you notice anything different about them?" My stomach rolled in dread at the answer.

"No," she replied, shaking her head. "I don't see anything different at all."

"The color? My pupils?"

"Same as usual."

I turned to Morris who nodded in agreement.

Slumping back in my chair, I pushed away the quinoa. I didn't want to see the details of the grains or the faint snowflake-like cracks in the plastic container anymore. Why couldn't they see what Zack and Haley had immediately noticed? Were Zack and Haley playing a trick on me and teasing me by pretending my eyes were different? Only, they hadn't teased me. They had both—Haley especially—had seemed really, really pleased.

"What's wrong with your eyes?" Helen broke into my worried reflections.

"I just had a bad dream before I woke up. I feel like my eyes have been straining all day. Or actually, it's more like when you try on someone else's glasses and the world looks too sharp or weird."

"Do you have a headache?" Morris asked. "It could be a migraine."

"No headache. No pain except from the computer screen."

"Do you want to see if my dad can check you out when he gets home?" Helen asked, but I shook my head.

"I have to go home after school. Besides, this might just go away," I added hopefully.

"And if it doesn't?"

"Then, I'll see your dad in a day or two if I’m not better."

"Morris?" Helen demanded.

"Witnessed and attested to," he replied with a grin, sealing the deal like we always did among the three of us.

I felt a little better knowing my best friends would hold me to my word.

***

The day rolled downhill toward English, and I was glad to finally slide into my seat next to Helen.

Zack, Haley, and Jordan came in next, with Rob not far behind. They sat together across from me and Helen.

Rob surprised me by smiling at me again, and I offered a tentative half-smile in return, unable to fully trust a Jock—even a benched Jock. Zack flashed me a grin, and Jordan glowered at me. No surprises there.

Not surprising either was the way Haley turned his attention to me, pinning my heart in place with the intensity of his expression.

"Hey, Helen," Zack called out across the classroom to her. "Coming to the game Friday?"

"No." Her blunt, unvarnished reply was just another reason I wished I could be more like Helen Jenkins on a regular basis.

Zack laughed good-naturedly, and asked, "What about the dance on Saturday?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"I have homework to do."

"Homework?" Zack's voice was full of disbelief that someone could choose work over football and a dance.

"Homework. Chemistry homework. You know, chemistry? That class that you don't do any work in?" Helen's tone was scathing.

"Oh, yeah, well," Zack looked sheepish and scratched the back of his neck, then straightened and flashed her a brilliant smile. "Look, I can make it up to you. You can be my date."

"Hell will freeze over."

Zack burst out laughing and smacked Haley on the arm. I glanced at Haley, and he was smiling, indulgently amused at the back and forth, but his eyes focused back on me the moment I looked at him. He winked at me, and I had no idea why.

"Tell you what," Zack said, actually getting up from his desk and strutting over to Helen. "I'll make you a bet."

"I don't gamble," Helen replied, folding her arms and settling further back in her chair.

Zack rested his palms on her desk and leaned in. He was all golden charm on top, but there was an undercurrent to his movements that hinted at something unyielding.

"I'll tell you what," he said, smiling and crinkling his eyes in a way that would have made any red-blooded girl except Hard-Hearted Helen swoon. "If we lose the Homecoming game, I won't ever bother you again. But, if we win, you'll be my date to the Homecoming dance."

"Why couldn't you bet something useful like doing your share of our chemistry homework?" Helen retorted, lifting her chin and refusing to be intimidated.

"Fine. We win, you come to the dance as my date. We lose, I do chemistry homework for the rest of the year. Do we have a deal?"

"I'm not..."

"Babes, the whole class is watching. Of course, if you're afraid I might actually win..."

Helen glared up at him as he grinned down at her. Everybody was laughing and cheering Zack on. I was holding my breath because I knew Helen better than any of them.

She was tough and cool and logical, but that was the fortress she had built around her heart. I hoped that Zack really meant what he was saying and was genuinely interested in her...because if he wasn't, and if he hurt her, I would find a way to make him pay, hopefully involving a rusty violin string and his family jewels.

"Fine," Helen said finally and, scowling, held out her hand for him to shake.

Zack kissed it, then tweaked her nose and whispered, "Game on, babe."

Helen turned to me, and I saw the two red spots burning in her cheeks.

"Friday night," she said curtly.

"What?" I replied.

"The game. You're coming with me."

And, that was that.

***

I was glad to get out of English and away from Helen's simmering resentment, Zack's satisfied smiles, Haley's burning eyes, and Jordan, Rob, and everyone else who was suddenly paying a lot more attention to Helen and myself than ever before.

Sighing, I stuffed stuff in my bag and shut my locker.

"Hey, princess."

There was no mistaking that raspy, dark voice behind me. I turned to find Haley standing a few feet away from me, leaning his shoulder against the lockers.

He walked up to me, and for a moment, I had the irresistible image of a hunter stalking up to his prey. But did any hunter ever suddenly simply brush a strand of hair out of his prey's eyes?

"What?" Not exactly eloquent, but it was the best I could do at the moment.

He gave me his sly, sexy smile.

"I wanted to ask you to do me the honor of," he said, then paused for effect, "being my date for the Homecoming dance."

His black eyes danced wickedly as he watched me.

In the distance, I heard the wheels of a janitor's barrel squeak across the linoleum floors. It was an irrelevant detail, but it was about the most concrete fact I could feel sure of because the world had suddenly turned upside down.

A boy—and not just any boy, but Haley Smith—had just asked me to a dance.

"Why?"

An awful feeling of déjà vu washed over me from the first day of school, reminding me that my talent for asking stupid questions was a gift that just kept on giving.

His lip twitched slightly, but I could see his eyes were obsidian-hard.

"I think that what you really meant to say is 'yes,' but you're nervous," he spoke slowly, deliberately, his voice wrapping around me like layers and layers of black silk.

"No! I mean, no. That's not what I meant. I mean I meant 'no'. And 'why', too."

And, I had stopped talking about five minutes too late.

He smiled, and I felt like a four-year-old who had just stamped her foot.

"You don't trust me," he said simply.

"I do," I retorted automatically, then bit my lip and looking down as the truth came spilling out. "I don't. Maybe? I just...I just don't know. I think you don't know what you want. What you really want." Wow. I just didn’t know when to stop, did I?

"I think that I know that you are everything I want," Haley said, brushing his fingers along the thin gold chain around my neck and coming to rest on the pendant against my chest, yet never once touching my skin. "You are scared. But, I also know what I feel for you and that we belong together."

"Come on, princess," he added, a hint of a smile around his lips. "Say yes."

"N-no." Damn, I was really giving that word a workout today. The answer was automatic. Maybe I was just so in the habit of saying no to Haley that it had slipped out. And, why did it suddenly feel like we weren't talking about going to the dance anymore? Why did ”yes” and “no” suddenly seem so deadly serious?

"No?" he repeated softly, and there was amusement in his voice. "I should warn you, Stephanie. I will not give up on this. On you."

"Me?" A small knot of tension released when I finally gave voice to the real question I didn't know I had been asking.

"You," Haley affirmed. Then, with a painful slowness, he began to lower his lips to mine.

"HALEY!" Jordan screeched from down the hall, and I jerked back from Haley, banging the back of my head against the locker.

Apparently, I needed blunt force trauma to be brought back to reality. Had Haley actually been going to kiss me? Did I even know what was happening between us? Why did I instantly feel like a star-struck tween instead of an eighteen year-old woman on the verge of independence? I knew less than nothing about kissing and more than nothing about sex, and all I could see now was embarrassment, humiliation, and Haley's sardonic laughter at how bad I would be at all of it.

With an agility I didn't know I possessed, I ducked out under his arms and turned to run.

Once outside, I fell back to a quick walk towards Helen's car. Somewhere in the middle of cataloging all my mortifying thoughts, I became aware that someone was calling my name. Sorta.

"Hey, Rock Starr!" "Whassup, Emo Girl?" "Ooooh, Stephanie Starr's all badass now! Ooooh, I'm afraid!"

I bit my lip and tried to ignore the group of loser guys clustering around a dented Toyota Camry parked near Helen’s car. Great. The Goons. Joe Bandino, Matty Forbes, and Chad Samuels again.

"What's the matter, Rock Starr?" "Oooh, did we hurt your little emo feelings?"

My ears burned, and I looked around for Helen. There was no way I could stand around waiting for her by her car, not with them around. Turns out it didn’t matter anyway because the guys pushed off the car and came up to me, putting on their best looming game—which, I have to admit was pretty good because my heart started racing with pure animal fear. They were leering at me, and while I was pretty sure they wouldn't try anything really physical, I couldn't be sure. I remembered second grade on the playground and winced.

Retreat was my only option.

I took a step backward and backed right up against Haley.

HALEY GENTLY
pulled me to his side, holding me there with his arm around my waist. Pressed against him like that, I couldn't feel any tension or nervousness in his body, but I did get a sense of how strong he might be. His lean physique appeared to be all muscle.

"I think you should step out of the way," Haley said. He might have spoken quietly enough, but there was plenty of menace at the back of his voice.

"Ooooh, poetry boy's all mad about his emo girlfriend," Joe mocked, winning snarky grins from his friends.

"Whatcha gonna do?" Chad taunted. "Read me a poem?"

"Better not fight," Matty, the beefiest of the group, snickered. "You might mess up your pretty shirt."

"I don't want to fight you," Haley said calmly. "I don't want to hurt any of you."

I looked up at him, my heart thumping in panic, both for myself and for him. There was no way he could take those three guys, and what would happen if the rest of the Goons decided to jump in?

"Haley, don't," I whispered. "It's not worth it. Please, I don't want you to get hurt."

His body shook slightly from the low chuckle in his throat. He looked down at me, then lifted his arm from my waist and cupped my cheek with his hand for a moment, then brushed his thumb over my lips. Unbearable sensations thickened my throat and made every inch of me aware of his presence.

His black gaze held me in its event horizon, fierce and questioning at the same time. I have no clue what answer my eyes gave, except that I was terrified at the thought of him getting hurt.

He gave me an oddly satisfied smile and gently let go of me. Then, he turned back to face Joe, Chad, and Matty and took a step toward them.

Other students started gathering around, eager for the drama, like a bunch of WWE fans. Zack came up to where I was standing. Even he was looking excited.

"Zack!" I exclaimed, grabbing his arm. "You have to stop this."

Inexplicably, Zack smirked and patted my hand reassuringly.

"Do something!" I hissed. "At least help him if you won't stop this!"

"And cut in on Haley's fun?" he replied, chuckling and winking at me.

I let go of him, shocked. How could he let this happen? I had to think of something—short of going to the teachers—something that would stop this from happening.

I was too late.

"Come on, asshole!" Joe snarled and launched himself at Haley, while at the same time Chad started forward, bent over as if to ram Haley in the gut.

Haley stood perfectly still until the last possible second, then seemed to step just an inch out of Joe's way. In the same movement, he turned and barely touched Chad on the shoulder, but Chad went flying back through the air to land hard on the trunk of the Toyota.

Joe came back at him from behind, and in a move that was almost too fast, Haley turned and thrust his arm out so that his fingertips just brushed Joe's chest. Suddenly, Joe was on his back, on the ground, stunned and gasping for air.

"Watch it, Haley," Zack called, mock warning in his voice. "Play fair."

I saw Haley raise an eyebrow at his brother then shrug. His body shifted, tensed and braced, instead of the fluid ease of just a moment ago.

Chad and Matty teamed up against Haley, clearly intending to have Matty grab hold of him so that Chad and a recovering Joe could beat him. Haley delivered a swift punch in Matty's gut that sent him stumbling back, doubled over. Without missing a step, Haley turned and crashed his fist into Joe's face. The blood gushing from Joe's nose left no doubt that his nose was broken. He stumbled from the ring of combat over to the Toyota, and from the sounds of it, began to be violently sick.