Duality: Vol 1, Melancholia (A New Adult Paranormal Romance) (4 page)

I frowned.  There was a blank space in the Rainbow network, somewhere out there in the classroom.  Someone who wasn’t like all the rest was sitting there amongst the others.  I scanned the room, stopping when I found the spot where there wasn’t a feeling of need and want coming at me. 
There you are.  Got ya!

It was a boy, the one who Jasmine had said was a ghost. 
Malcolm Mac…something. 
He was sitting towards the back of the room on the far side nearest the windows, looking at me.  First he was smiling, but then he wasn’t.  I couldn’t believe it when his expression turned sour.  As if he’d smelled something nasty.  And now he wasn’t checking me out at all; he was staring at his desk.

I wanted to jump up and cheer, but I had to control myself.  If I got too happy about being scowled at, everyone else’s emotions would just get that much more amped up.  I took a deep even breath and let it out slowly. 
Just chill.  You can talk to him after class and see if he’s a Neutral
.

I’d gotten distracted with my thoughts, and realized I’d missed something.  A boy was skipping to the front of the class, coming towards me with a goofy grin on his face.

“Oh.  Yeah, okay.  I can do that,” he said, flexing his arm and pumping his bicep muscle for effect.  It was pretty impressive, but I schooled my features to remain impassive.

“Be right back,” he promised.  But he was so focused on staring at me, he walked right into the door.  I laughed along with everyone else; it was impossible not to.  He left the room with a goofy grin on his face.

“Miss Livingston, please take Mr. Kucharski’s seat.  He can have the one he’s bringing in.”  Mr. Adams gestured out into the room.

I went into panic mode.  I don’t know why, but suddenly the idea of being next to the boy who might be a Neutral had me freaking out.  I’ve never seen a Rainbow do what he did before, but neither have I seen a Neutral do it either.  People either fawned over or disregarded me … at least in the beginning.  No one had ever gone from smiling to angry in such a short period of time.  Usually it took Neutrals a solid couple weeks to start hating me.

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” I said.  “I don’t want to steal anyone’s spot.”  I scanned the room, hoping I’d see another place open somewhere else.  But the room was jam-packed.  I wasn’t even sure where he was going to put the desk the other student was bringing back.

“It’s fine, just go take it.  He needs to sit up front anyway.  It’ll help him concentrate.”

I gave him a small nod and walked over to the seat, keeping my eyes glued on the guy who seemed mad at me.  It was better than encouraging the others, and not as weird as staring at the floor the whole way.

He was focusing on the surface of his desk almost the whole time I came towards him, but then when I was just a few feet away, he looked up.  He didn’t smile, and he didn’t frown.  He just stared at me.

I grinned, suddenly shy.  I so wanted to know what he was thinking at that moment. 
Does he want to be my best friend like everyone else in here?  Or could he just ignore me without a problem, like Jasmine?  Is it possible he’s someone I could be near and not worry about my safety or his?

Before my butt was completely in the seat, he jumped out of his and stumbled to the front of the classroom.  Suddenly he was in a huge hurry to get the heck out of the room, like he’d forgotten he had a very urgent appointment somewhere far away.  Or like I was a disease and he didn’t want to catch it.

Mr. Adams told him to sit down, but he ignored the teacher and eventually ran out, giving up on asking permission.

I stared at the empty space where he’d been sitting, at a total loss about what had just happened.  No one had ever reacted like that around me.  Maybe it should have hurt my feelings to be so completely and obviously dissed, but all it did was make me more curious about him.

No one else seemed to be concerned at all with his reaction.  The kids sitting around me just smiled at me and nodded hello, acting like Malcolm hadn’t just run out of there like a bat flying out of hell.  The boy in front of me turned halfway around in his seat and whispered, “Hello.”

I gave him a watery smile and looked again at the desk next to me.  There was an old, battered and partially torn navy blue backpack on the floor next to the seat.  It looked mostly empty, sagging almost flat.  I couldn’t help but wonder what the boy who acted like a ghost kept in his school bag.

I settled into my chair, putting my purse over the back of the seat before turning to face the teacher.  He moved back behind his desk and started speaking about something, but I didn’t hear any of it.  All I could think about was the boy who’d run at the first sign of being near me.  Maybe Jasmine was right.  Maybe he was a ghost that just wanted to be left alone.

But ghost or not, he’s one of the cutest guys I’ve ever seen.  He isn’t flashy handsome like a lot of the guys in the room.  He’s more understated hot - like bad boy hot.  I think his eyes are brown, but I could be wrong about that.  He was wearing light-colored jeans, well-worn and torn at the knee, with a dark green long-sleeved cotton shirt. His hair was just plain.  Nothing about him said he was interested in anything but blending in.  I smiled to myself when I thought about how he and I had that in common.

I make it a point to never be fashionable.  It attracts attention that I’m already trying to avoid.  My hair always just hangs straight in the most basic of styles.  The only thing I ever do to it is sometimes put it in a ponytail when it’s hot or wear a hat over it when the temperature drops.  It’s easier to be plain than stylish and it’s definitely cheaper for my parents.  But I wish I could do things differently sometimes.  I see things in the store with bright colors and wild patterns and dream about putting them on.  I always walk away, though.  The few times I’d stepped outside the box of plain vanilla that needs to be my life, it had been disastrous.  Everyone is better off with me looking like a dork.

The door opened with a bang, and the guy who’s chair I took was there, shoving a desk through the door.  “Got it!  Had to go two halls over, though.”  He sounded like he was expecting a medal.

“Thank you, Caden.  Could you please just add it to that row right there and then take a seat in it?”

He stopped his furniture moving and looked over at his old seat.  “But…”  He gestured at me with his chin.

“You can go get your things, but I want you up here near me.”

“Aw, Mr. Adams.  Come on, man.”

“No arguments.”  He looked at the class.  “As I was saying…”

I blocked out the lesson, watching Caden maneuver the desk and then make his way over to where I was sitting.  I looked up when he stopped next to my desk.

“Sorry.”

“No prob.  I’ll just get my stuff.”  He grinned at me and bent over to grab his backpack from the floor next to me.

I expected him to turn around and go, but he didn’t.  He kept his eyes on me and sank down in the desk next to me, not fitting very well since he’d gone in on the wrong side, where the desk attached to the seat.  His legs were squished together and he had to hunch into himself to fit in the small space.  “So.  Where’re you from?”

“Mr. Kucharski!”

My mouth fell open, but I wasn’t sure what to say, so I remained silent.  I looked at the teacher and then back at Caden.

“I’ll sit here, Mr. A.  Malcolm’s out running your errand for ya.”  Caden didn’t even look at the teacher.  He just kept grinning at me.

“Mr. Kucharski, if you don’t get up from that desk right now and take the one I’ve assigned to you, you’re going to find yourself in a week of detention.  Right now!  Snap to it!”

Caden rolled his eyes and then winked at me.  “Catch you later,” he whispered.  And then in a louder voice, he said, “I’m comin’, I’m comin’.  Don’t get your Calvins in a bunch.”

“That’ll be five days detention,” said the teacher sourly, pulling a pad of paper from his desk drawer.  “Would you like to double down or are you good with this?”

“Nah, man.  I’m good with the five.”  Caden sounded defeated, shuffling to the front of the class with his bag hanging at his side.

The whole class laughed.

“Excellent.  Now we can get back to Dickinson.  Let’s talk about how her isolation may have contributed to her verse…”

My mind wandered again.  I’d read some of Emily Dickinson’s poetry in my last school, too.  Normally, I’d find the discussion worthwhile, but now I found the idea of a boy who couldn’t stand to be near me much more interesting.

Chapter Five: Malcolm

I RUSHED INTO THE CLASSROOM and down the first aisle of seats, ignoring the students gathering their things and standing to leave.  The room was filled with talking and laughing, giving me the perfect distraction I needed.

“Mr. McNamara!”

Or so I thought.

I looked up at Mr. Adams and waved, letting him know I’d be there to talk to him once I had my things.  I kept my gaze low after that, hoping that new girl would be gone by the time I got to my desk.  I took it easy, giving people extra time and space to get past me so I could delay as much as possible.

I finally arrived at the end of the last aisle as the noise in the room was dying down.  The dark form of my backpack was clearly visible on the ground just up ahead.  Zeroing in on it, I made my way past the few stragglers who hadn’t yet left the spots next to their seats, trying not to touch any of them on my way.

Just being in my presence is enough to get people feeling the darkness, but touching me was a whole other level of awful, especially for the most sensitive ones.  The Miserables usually figured that out pretty quickly and then did whatever they could to touch me as often as possible.  It’s why I wear long-sleeved shirts, even in summer.  I have zero hope of ever having a tan, but it’s better than the alternative.

I was almost within reach of my bag, and I was stretching over to get it from the seat behind, when it sailed up over the top of my chair and desk.  My hand grasped only air near the ground.

“I got it for ya, buddy,” said Caden.  He was standing in the next aisle over, blocking people from leaving in his enthusiasm for helping me out.  Or for getting in the new girl’s face.  It was kind of hard to tell what his goal was the way he was standing there hugging my backpack to his chest and grinning at the girl who stood immobile in front of him.

I walked farther up the aisle, keeping the row of desks between us.  I avoided looking at the girl at all.

“Hand it over.”  I held out my hand, trying to grab the handle on top.

Caden twisted to the side a little, keeping me from being able to reach it.  “What you got in here?” He acted like he was going to unzip it.

“Don’t,” I said, reaching over farther to grab it.

My fingers accidentally brushed over his, and he let go of the bag with that hand like he’d been burned.

“Dude.”  He stared at me, his other hand just barely keeping a grip on it.

“What?  Just give it.”  I yanked the bag away and let it fall to the chair between us.

Caden stood there, looking confused.  And then he glanced down.

That’s when I saw that the new girl had her hand on his forearm.

“I was just trying to help,” Caden said.  He sounded lost.

“My name’s Rae.”

I didn’t know if the girl was talking to Caden or me, but I didn’t stick around to find out.  I started walking, pulling my bag out of the chair as I went.  When it was free, I used the momentum to sling it over my shoulder.

“Where are you going?” asked Caden.  “Wait up!  I’ll go with you!”

I moved faster.  I had my eyes on the door, and I was totally focused. 
Get the hell out.  Don’t look back.  Get away from both of them.

A hand closed over my shoulder and held me back.

I yanked myself sideways, ready to yell at Caden to leave me the hell alone, but found myself facing Mr. Adams.  I slapped my lips shut, stopping myself from doing something really stupid.

“Malcolm?” he said, tentatively.  “You okay, son?”

I blinked a few times, trying to get my head on straight.  I wasn’t used to adults being that nice to me.  “Uh, yeah.  I’m fine.”

“Do you want to explain your disappearance, perhaps?  Try and convince me I shouldn’t give you detention?”

“Uh … yeah?”

  He raised an eyebrow at me.  “Well?  I’m all ears.”

“I … uh … had to take a smoke break?”

“Wrong answer.”  He walked back to his desk and wrote out a detention slip.  “See that you come on time.  Oh … and plan to stay for the entire period next class.  You take off like that again, and you’ll be spending some time in the principal’s office.”

I took the detention slip from him with a frown.  “Sorry.  I won’t do it again.”

“See that you don’t.  I’ll see you in detention starting tomorrow.”

I looked down at the paper, my eyes bugging out of my head when I read what was printed there.  “
Five days
of detention?  Are you
kidding
me?”

Mr. Adams gave me a mean smile.  “Consider it an early Christmas present.”

“But it’s March!”

“I could advance you an Easter gift too, if you’d like.”

I sighed in defeat.  “No.  Christmas is good.”

“Fine.  See you tomorrow.”  He gave me a fake smile before returning to his desk to shuffle some papers around.

Asshole.

I walked out of the room, not looking back.  Other students were coming out and going in at the same time, most of them looking down at cell phones to send or receive text messages.  I let them push me around and jostle me out into the hall.

What a dick.  Five days of detention?  That’s total bullshit.  All I did was leave.  What if I was sick or had to take a crap?  People shouldn’t get detention for that.

“Dude, you got shit on too.”  Caden was at my side and obviously feeling very happy about my situation.

“Yeah, thanks, I didn’t realize it until you pointed it out.”  I sped up.