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Authors: Clarissa Wild

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Shit. I’ve been caught.

With his gaze on me I can barely breathe. I
know he knows I’ve been watching him, I can see it in his eyes. I don’t need to
talk to him to know that he wants me to keep it a secret. His intent glare is
enough.

And then we turn and bolt away.

Chapter 6

Troubled
Hearts

 

“Yuck, don’t they have some real food
here?” Evie throws the spoon she’s holding into the lettuce behind the counter.
The lunchroom lady grimaces at her, but turns around shortly after.

“Fat and juicy burgers aren’t exactly real
food either,” I say, carrying my plate to the checking counter.

She snorts. “Hell, I’d prefer Mickey D’s
anytime over this junk.”

I laugh as I pay the cashier and watch Evie
snarl at the lunchroom lady to make her something that includes at least an
ounce of meat.

When she finally has her slab of meat, we
find a free spot and sit down to eat.

“I swear, one day I’ll just drag you into a
real lunchroom. Some place they serve nice, tasty food.”

I roll my eyes. “You know I can’t afford
that.”

“I know, but that’s why I’ve decided that
from now on I’m just going to save up every cent I have so I can take you with
me to one of those damn fine restaurants maybe once a month.”

I smile, but feel embarrassed because of my
lack of money.

Evie’s hand is suddenly wrapped around mine
right on the table. “Hey, don’t you even think about feeling bad. It’s supposed
to be a good thing.”

“I know … it’s just that—”

“Stop it. I’m not taking no for an answer.
You’ll come with me, and I’ll pay, and that’s that. No buts. No ifs. Once a
month, we’ll gorge on delicious junk food or better.”

I chuckle. “All right. Thanks.”

She smiles and squeezes my hand a bit.

“I’m really glad I have you as a best
friend,” I say.

The twinkle in her eyes disappears, and she
lets go of my hand.

“That’s what friends are for,” she says.
Diverting her eyes to her food, she grabs her fork and knife and starts cutting
up the meat like a butcher, making me wince.

There goes my appetite.

“Could you be a little less …” My eyebrows
draw together as my mouth drops open. “Is that Brody?”

Evie turns her head like a hawk in the
direction I’m looking, so I say, “Don’t stare! God, do you want him to see or
something?”

“Does it matter? It’s just Brody.”

I sigh. “That’s not what I meant. Don’t you
see who he’s standing next to?”

“Yeah? So?”

“It’s that guy. The guy Hunter was talking
to the other day. When we were going to the library, we saw them talking about
some weird business.”

“Oh,
that
guy!”

“Shhh!” I say. “I’d rather not get caught
staring again.”

I blink again, but nothing changes. It has
to be the same guy. I’d recognize that flowerpot hairdo anywhere. It’s the guy
Hunter was talking to. The guy who told him to do ‘something’ to ‘someone.’

I wonder what the hell he’s doing with
Brody.

So many questions pop up into my mind. What
does he want with Brody? And what was he doing with Hunter? If they both know
him, does that also mean Brody knows Hunter?

So many things I don’t know the answer to,
and it’s making me insane.

Brody bumps fists with the flowerpot hairdo
guy, and they both take off in different directions. I wonder what they just talked
about. I wonder how the hell they know each other.

When that guy passes us, I pretend I’m
eating some lettuce and stuff my mouth full of it. As he leaves, I almost choke
on the huge amount of food in my mouth. I wash it down with a bottle of water,
and Evie starts cutting up her steak again.

“I wonder …” My voice stops working.

I don’t know what I want to say anymore.

As soon as my eyes catch a glimpse of that
guy entering the cafeteria I’m flabbergasted.

My mouth drops open and I stare at him.
Him.
I know I call him ‘him’ all the time, but that’s because he is the only guy my
attention is ever drawn to. It’s like there is no other guy around
but
him.

“What?” Evie says, but I ignore her.

I completely zone out, my eyes glued to his
being. He’s not just another guy, not one of the many flocking into the
lunchroom. No. This is Hunter Bane, the guy whose mood changes with a snap of
the fingers. The guy who goes from being a complete jerk to a witty, cute guy.
The guy who looks like a sex god, but seems to have no interest in other girls
whatsoever. Or at least, not that I can see.

There is so much I still don’t know about
him, and for some reason I’m intrigued as hell. I want to get to know him.
Maybe it’s because he taunted me that day with my bracelet, because I want to
know why he is the way he is.

Whenever I see him, all I can think about
is him.

He’s the guy I’m swooning over.

And it’s making me look like a gasping,
drooling girl.

Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and
focus on the here and now. I can’t go to him. I can’t talk to him. I’m having
lunch with Evie, and it’s rude to leave her like that. I have to keep my eyes
shut to prevent myself from failing in my resolve. I can’t look at him, because
I know I’ll falter and go over there eventually.

Still, I can’t help but open my eyes.

He’s much closer now, and he’s leaning
against a vending machine. He coughs and then looks at his hand, wiping
something on his dark, frayed jeans. He’s wearing unusually thick clothes
today, which isn’t at all like him, and from the looks of it they’re cheap,
too.

Jamming one hand into his pocket, he runs the
other through his spiky hair. He fishes a few coins from his pocket, gazes at
them, and then crushes them in the palm of his hand. The look on his face
darkens, and I can see his chest heave as he stares with anger at the vending
machine.

I gulp at the sight of him and can’t get a
word out of my mouth. Hunter Bane, the guy who seems to have it all, doesn’t
have enough to buy some snack from a vending machine?

The idea alone makes me gasp. I can’t
believe Hunter, out of all people, doesn’t have enough to go by. Is it just a
coincidence? Or is this what he goes through on a daily basis?

Just like me?

I shake my head when he suddenly turns his
head and looks at me. We stare at each other, and my eyes widen. His eyes are
bloodshot, and his eyelids are swollen. There’s a huge purple mark on his left
cheek.

My fork drops onto the table.

“Autumn? Hello? Earth to Autumn?” Evie
yells. She’s been calling my name all this time, but I haven’t paid any
attention to it. And I don’t want to right now.

I need to know what’s wrong with Hunter.

“Be right back,” I say.

“Huh? What? Where are you going?” I think
she follows my gaze, because she immediately says, “Oh, God, you’ve got to be
joking. Hunter?”

“Sorry,” I say. “I really want to talk to
him.”

She stammers, but I ignore her, and I hurry
over to him.

When he sees me coming, he pulls up his
hoodie, turns his head, and starts walking in the opposite direction.

I run up to him and grab his arm, but he
jerks loose.

“Leave me alone,” he says as he walks
through the cafeteria door.

“What happened to you?” I say.

I push myself past the doors and step in
front of him. He looks miserable. His face has all the colors of a rainbow,
like he’s been hit with a baseball bat. His eyes scare me even more. They look
dreary. They’re red and big, as if he’s been sick or crying.

Or something way, way, worse. Drugs.

I can’t even think of it without wanting to
puke.

The abrasive look on his face sends shivers
down my spine. The only time I’ve seen him more upset was when he leaned
against his door in the middle of the night, crying.

He closes his mouth, leaving a small gap in
between his lips, as if he still wants to say something but doesn’t know quite
what.

I swallow. “I asked you a question.”

It’s not like me to be this upfront, bold,
but I have to. He looks sick, and it seems to me like he doesn’t even care.
It’s as if he’s completely oblivious to the state he’s in. Or there’s something
else going on that makes him ignore it.

“And I said: Leave me alone.” His hands
curl up into fists, and I get the sudden urge to bolt away, but I don’t. I have
to make a stand. I have to help him. I don’t know why, I just have to.

“I want to know what happened,” I say.

“Why?” His teeth grate, and his lips barely
part as he speaks the words. It almost makes me feel like he’s angry with me,
but that can’t be. I didn’t do anything. Or did I?

“Because you seem hurt,” I say with the
calmest voice I can muster. I don’t want to make him angrier.

“Why do you care so much?” His voice is
hoarse, and it almost sounds as if he finds it strange that anyone could even
care.

But I do.

I don’t know why, I just feel like I need
to care. Like I have to find out what’s wrong with him, so I can fix him.

As if
I
could fix him. Me. Little,
goofy, broke me.

As if he’s been waiting for that. He just
said he wants to be left alone.

He doesn’t want to talk to me. He’s been
avoiding me since the moment he saw me. He doesn’t want my help. Doesn’t even
need it.

But I can’t leave him alone. For some
reason I feel this unspoken, undeniable connection between us. I can’t put my
finger on it. It’s not tangible. I just know it’s there.

And I have to find out why.

“Because ... I just do,” I say.

Maybe I’m selfish for wanting to talk, but
I think it’s worth it. If I can talk to him, I can find out why he’s been
acting so strange lately. Maybe I
can
actually help him, even if he
thinks I can’t. Maybe we could become friends. Maybe …

I look up into his eyes, which he keeps
hidden behind his hoodie, and I can barely spot his glinting gray eyes. They’re
half-mast and not even pointed at me. It almost makes me think he’s ashamed to
look at me.

But why?

When I first saw him, he mocked me, but he
was just playing around. He’s a cocky, confident guy with a cute, boyish smile
I can’t ignore. His jokes make my skin crawl with anger, but that’s him.

This is not him.

He looks broken, damaged, beaten. Literally.

Seeing him this way breaks my heart, even
if I’d rather be taken to hell than admit that.

Without realizing it, my finger lifts to
touch the bruise on his face.

Hunter cocks his head and backs away before
my finger reaches his face. “Don’t.”

His lip contorts, his eyebrows draw
together, and for a second I almost believe I see tears forming in his eyes.

Then he storms off.

Chapter 7

Devilish
Games

 

“Did you hear?” Evie says, as we walk to
our classes the next day. “Someone got beat up yesterday. Here on campus.
During the day. In plain sight.”

“Seriously?” I say, gasping.

My throat feels like it’s being squeezed
together. Images of Hunter and his bruised face and bloodshot eyes flash
through my mind. All I can think about is if it was him. Or maybe he did it to
someone else.

“You know what’s even stranger? There were
only a handful of people who saw it, and they said it looked like it came out
of nowhere.”

“What?” I didn’t think my mouth could drop
any farther, but it just had.

“Yeah, I reacted the same way. I can’t
believe someone would do that. It was in broad daylight.”

“My God …” I say, still baffled.

“I’m wondering if it’s some sort of
calculated, premeditated fight. Like it was set up, or something like that. I
know it sounds strange, but it took ages for word to reach our end of the
campus, and fights like this usually take no more than five minutes for
everyone to know. I mean, the guy was busted up pretty bad.”

“Who was it? Were there more?” The words
roll over my tongue like they’re in a rush.

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when it
happened, you know. I just hear the rumors.”

“So that’s it? That’s all you know?”

“Wow, calm down, girl.”

“Sorry … I’m just curious.”

“Since when do you care so much?”

“I don’t know. Never mind,” I say.

I don’t have the guts to tell her that I’m
actually nervous that it might be Hunter we’re talking about here. And I’m even
more anxious to find out whether it was him that received the beating, or if it
was him who was handing it out.

That last thought is making me want to
puke.

I can’t imagine him doing that to someone.
Hunter Bane, planning a fight? No, that doesn’t seem like him. He can’t have.

Although he looked just like the type
yesterday.

“Well, I have to be in here, so …” she
says, and she points at the door to her right. “I’ll see you tonight.”

“Actually … I have to work tonight.”

“Oh …” she says, her face turning gloomy
all of a sudden. “Okay. Well, put your best foot forward.”

I roll my eyes. “Like I ever do anything
else.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re perfect,
remember?” she winks, and we both burst out into laughter.

“See ya!” I say, and I walk into a
different hallway to get to my own class in time.

I sit down somewhere in the middle and
start unpacking my stuff. Soon the entire room floods, but my area stays nicely
quiet. I don’t mind. I mean, I’ve known for a long time people don’t really
like to sit next to me. I don’t really care about the reason. I don’t care at
all that they don’t want to sit next to me. I like being on my own. I have
Evie. Enough friends for me.

As I finish placing my stuff on the table,
I notice a guy opening the door. The teacher has already started his class, and
seems pissed when the student stands in the doorway.

“Well, come in then,” the teacher says,
annoyed.

And then I notice it’s Hunter.

His face has turned from a colorful palette
into a much less noticeable shade of green. Lucky for him he’s hiding part of
his busted face in his thick vest. He probably only put it on to hide that
fact.

I snort as he turns his face toward me and
stares at me with his piercing gray eyes like he can see right through me.

I swallow and sink back into the chair.
Especially when I realize the only empty space in class is right beside me.

“You’re late,” the teacher snaps.

“Yeah … Sorry.”

“And your homework is shoddy at best.”

Jesus, he’s really getting it today. I’m
starting to feel embarrassed already, and the teacher isn’t even talking about
me!

“Mister Bane, I don’t know if you realize
this, but your grades are on the line.”

Hunter seems unfazed by the teacher’s
comment. His face is unmoving but sincere, as if he really cares.

I envy him. I wish I could remain that
confident, hard like a brick, when facing a sneering teacher.

Especially in front of the entire class.

“I know, it won’t happen again. I’ll work
harder. I promise.”

The teacher squints in silence and looks
intently at him for a second. “This is your last chance, Mister Bane. Don’t
screw it up.”

Hunter nods, and somehow that’s enough for
the teacher to let him off the hook. I don’t know how he does it.

When he comes up the steps his gaze is
already set on that one empty spot beside me. I’m squeezing my legs together as
he sits next to me. My instinct is to scoot far away, but I can’t; there’s
nowhere to go.

I feel watched, which isn’t strange,
considering his gray eyes are practically trying to penetrate my skin.

Anger is seething inside him; I don’t have
to look at him to know. I can feel it flowing out of him like a radiator that’s
burning up.

God, I want to die.

He keeps staring at me, as if he has
nothing better to do. My heartbeat is rising, and I’m starting to feel really
sweaty. I don’t know why he’s doing this, but it’s freaking me out, and I don’t
like it one bit.

“Don’t you have to pay attention?” I say,
avoiding his eyes.

“To you? Yes.”

His words make my insides broil.

“The teacher has already started talking.”
I point to the front, but Hunter doesn’t even flinch. His eyes are still on me
like a hawk zooming in on his prey.

“I don’t care.”

I swallow, gathering the courage to turn my
head and look at him. The moment my eyes make contact with his I’m drowning.
Drowning in amazement. Drowning in fear.

Fear of the unknown.

“But your grades …” I stammer.

He snorts, and a smile curls the corners of
his mouth while he shakes his head. “Yeah, right.”

And all I can do is stare.

If looks could kill, I would be dead.

He looks so damn handsome when he smiles.
It’s like everything around us fades, and all I ever want to see is that smile.
It just makes me feel good.

But when the smile disappears, so does my
good mood.

The darkness falling over his face
unsettles me.

In his eyes I see the hurt, the worries,
the insomnia. Sleepless nights have worn down his face, making him look saggy
and dull. But I know there’s so much more inside there.

Endless stories and an undiscovered world
I’m intrigued by.

I want to know what’s in there. Inside him.
Why he’s so angry and sad at the same time.

A sudden overwhelming feeling to grab him
and hold him tight takes me aback.

He’s having so much trouble in his life
right now, even though I have no idea what’s going on. I can see there’s
something wrong. And I want to help him get through it.

But I don’t come any closer. I don’t move
one muscle.

I’m scared. Scared of what he can do.
Scared of his power, and his temper.

In my mind I can still see his bloodshot
eyes and the hateful look on his face. He was in that fight yesterday, I’m sure
of it. The only question is: who was the one instigating it?

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

I can’t ask him. I just can’t get the words
to come out. I’m really chicken-shit.

“Something wrong?” he says.

I shake my head.

“Then why are you looking at me like that?”

Hunter inches closer. I instinctively draw
back, but he scoots even closer to my side. I’m scared to death he wants to do
something to me, and I have no idea what, which makes it even scarier.

A devious smile appears on his face, and
it’s almost as if he’s enjoying this. Taunting me seems like his way of passing
time in class. I don’t like it one bit, but on the other hand I’m excited as
hell.

He raises his head, and his nostrils flare.
I turn my head, my breath hitching in my throat. I can’t look when he’s doing
this, entering my private space uninvited.

It feels as though his nose is close to my
hair, because there’s hot air flowing close to my ear. And then he inhales.

Holy shit.

Is he smelling me?

I’m frozen in place from sheer panic, my
heart beating like crazy.

No guy has ever come this close to me.

He lets out a huge breath afterward and
chuckles softly. His breath lingers on my ear, and a shudder runs through me.

“I like it,” he whispers.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

My skin tingles where his hot breath
brushed over me. My groin clenches, and my clit thumps.

Why?

His whisper does this to me. Just a
whisper.

I’ve never felt like this before. I think I
just died inside.

Hunter muffles a laugh. It’s like he can
smell my fear.

He takes in a sharp breath and moves back
to his usual spot. As if what he did just now was the most normal thing in the
world.

I’m still shaken, my body stiff from the
encounter. I feel completely naked, and I know he’s watching me.

The look in his eyes is like that of a boy
who just did something totally against the rules. And it’s so fucking sexy I
can’t stand it.

Still panting, I straighten my glasses. I
wait until I calm down before I open my mouth again. “Why did you do that?”

The left corner of his mouth forms half a
smile, and he continuous to gaze at me with animal-like eyes. It’s his thing, I
guess. A ‘Hunter’s’ thing.

“No reason.”

“What?” I say, befuddled.

He slumps down in his seat and starts
watching the teacher.

“Are you going to explain why you’re acting
this way?” I ask.

“Nope.”

I frown. “Why do you even come to class
anyway? Only to torment me?”

He closes his eyes and laughs out loud,
making me feel like a fool.

“Leafy, don’t take life so serious.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You gotta live a little.”

“Excuse me, but I think I’m fine without
your advice, thanks.” I open my books and concentrate on the pages instead.
I’ve had enough of this.

I don’t want to be his plaything. I don’t
want to be made fun of, to be ridiculed, to be laughed at. If that’s all he
wants from me, then I won’t give him anything at all.

“Oh c’mon. Is your life really all that
exciting?” he says.

“I don’t need excitement,” I snap.

“Everyone does something they get excited
about. You’ve got to have something you love doing.”

I sigh and close my eyes, trying to wish
him away.

“Come on … you can tell me,” he says,
poking my arm. The moment his finger comes in contact with my flesh I feel weak
to the bones.

“Fine. I like reading. Happy now?”

“Reading?” he jests.

“Yes. Books. You know, the thing lying on
your table that you refuse to look at.”

“You think I’m doing that out of
disinterest.”

I nod.

“Wrong.”

The full stop to our conversation feels
uneasy. He clears his throat. “Just because I don’t like it, doesn’t mean I
don’t want to. I know it’s important. Just like I know it’s important to have
some fun once in a while.”

“Right, because you’ve seemed so happy
these last couple of days.”

The uncomfortable mood becomes even more
apparent.

Shit. I went a little too far with that
last remark.

He knows I saw everything. He knows I’ve
seen the hurt. He doesn’t want anyone to notice.

“Believe me, I would give anything to be in
your shoes right now instead of my own.”

I chortle. “Of course you would.” As if my
life is so easy.

“Except for the whole monthly women things
… you know …” he clears his throat again. What a weird conversation.

“On second thought, never mind. Anyway, you
should really start enjoying life more. Might make it a little easier.”

“You mean by fighting with people?” I say.

His smile disappears. His eyebrows draw
together, and his face turns bitter. His jaw is clenched, and he looks pissed
now.

I don’t care. I need to know. “Whose idea
was it? Yours or his?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he
murmurs, and he turns his head away from me.

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