House of Slide Hybrid (17 page)

“It has been brought to my attention that one of our students has failed to meet one of the codes of dress and conduct as clearly stated in the student handbook.”

I blinked at her. She tightly smiled and looked at me piercingly.

“There’s a dress code?” I asked, wondering what this had to do with me.

“The handbook is clear on the point of dyed hair,” Ms. Clutch said, leaning against the big oak desk with one hand while frowning at my offending hair.

“My hair is against the code?” I asked fingering a few strands and feeling a mixture of bewilderment tangling with amazement that they would bother writing down something that arbitrary. “Why? It’s a color. Who would be offended by a color? Isn’t there something in the handbook about diversity? Individual rights?”

As they looked at me, Mrs. Hunt with her stern expression and Mrs. Clutch like she was about to torture something innocent and enjoy it, I realized that I was the one in trouble, that what had seemed like an innocent thing at the time had become an issue for other people. It was scary and creepy to have Ms. Clutch glare at me, but I hated seeing Mrs. Hunt’s disappointment, like she’d expected better of me.

I bit my lip as I struggled with guilt and humiliation as I thought of all the students watching me be led to the office, knowing as they probably knew that it was against the book to dye my hair, and I’d flouted their authority, caused trouble like a genuine rebel without even knowing it. Snowy could have warned me, could have said something about staying home from school instead of letting me get caught and treated like a criminal.

“Um, sorry?”

Ms. Clutch smiled at me, all white teeth. Maybe she was something super scary like demon possessed or something. “It sets a bad example and gives people the idea that any behavior is allowed here, a place of learning. Who knows what ideas you will give people?”

I stared at her for a moment before I felt a glimmer of anger. She was acting by her tone and demeanor like I’d wanted to cause a riot or something. I slid off the chair, standing on my feet as I frowned back at her. “I guess I’d better go home then, since you don’t want anyone with blue hair wandering the halls. It might be catching or something. People might dye their hair red, or orange, or worse, both at the same time. Can’t have people clashing.”

“Miss Sanders,” Mrs. Hunt said with a stern frown. “Please remember who you’re talking to. We do request that you take this weekend to think about the rules you have formerly had no trouble following, and whether you wish to remain part of this school. In all honesty, you don’t need the credits to graduate so if you’d rather switch to taking college classes, no one will blame you. Some rules can seem constraining,” she said, letting a bit of the old gentleness show through.

I felt guilty for getting defensive. Even if Ms. Clutch liked punishing people, the rules had been there before I’d come along. For all I knew there were valid reasons for the no blue hair rule. Reminding me that I had the credits to graduate made me wonder if it wasn’t that I was too old for high school, as that I was too young for it. Maybe I should be back in kindergarten learning about colors. Kindergarteners put marker in their hair; I would be normal there.

“We’ve asked your friend Osmond to drive you home.” Mrs. Hunt added, nodding to Ms. Clutch. The VP opened the door revealing Osmond in all of his button-up-shirted glory. He looked so nice.

“You ready to go?” he asked in his low nice voice until he actually saw me, my hair, then his mouth dropped slightly open as he stared transfixedly at the blue abyss. Apparently my hair was a legitimate distraction from stuff like schoolwork I admitted to myself as I grabbed my bag and ducked around him, feeling a rush of guilt from being so close to him. I barely understood it, but seeing Osmond, real, solid Osmond in this world brought back the false memory of my kissing him and the real memory of my kissing Lewis. Guilt warred inside of me that I’d betrayed one or the other of them.

“Thanks, yeah,” I said, not looking at him. Instead I focused on walking past the secretary who stared at me with bright wide eyes, like she couldn’t wait to tell her dog all about me and my infractions.

Soon enough, I escaped out the double doors from the oppressive stares and the smell of nail polish to take the long stone steps two at a time to the sidewalk.

“Wait up,” Osmond said from behind me.

I made myself slow down although I didn’t know what to say and couldn’t look at him without my stomach tightening.

“So you’re sick?” he asked once he’d caught up with me, sticking his arms in his coat while he walked.

It reminded me that I’d forgotten my coat, but it wasn’t cold enough to make me go back into the school after I’d been kicked out. Instead I hunched against the cold wind and tried to smile at him. I didn’t quite meet his eyes, instead focusing on his nice straight nose.

“You don’t look sick, tired maybe but healthy enough.”

We started walking and I shook my head, looking down at my shoes, at the way they tromped over the cement sidewalk, like they knew where they were going until I could think of something clever to say. “I’m not sick.” Brilliant.

“So why do you need a ride home?”

It was a good question if he didn’t know that I’d been kicked out for my blue hair. Maybe not everyone in school memorized the student handbook. I stared at the parking lot, at the cars as they came in as people returned from their lunch breaks to Osmond’s white truck at the far end, close to the gym where he probably parked for sporty things. “Um, maybe they wanted you to escort me off the grounds.”

“What’s that?” He honestly didn’t know, but I wasn’t sure I could explain it when it still made mostly no sense to me.

“Blue hair is very dangerous, can cause all kinds of life and death issues, not to mention insurance hassles,” I added, trying to be funny.

He looked only looked more confused.

I sighed. “It’s in the handbook—no blue hair. I have this weekend to go back to normal or go somewhere else. What’s normal anyway? Snowy’s hair isn’t normal. Who has white blond hair if they don’t dye it. Valerie, she dyes her hair that beachy color, but no blue.” I shrugged thinking that it was a really weird rule until Osmond grabbed my wrist, the one with the bandages still on it, making me jump, then kind of freeze as I had a mini flashback of Osmond grabbing me and kissing me, consuming me with much more abandon than the kisses I’d experienced during last night’s encounter.

“They actually asked you to leave because of your hair? Are you kidding?” He asked, anger coming through loud and clear. He was always such a stickler for rules. You’d think he’d be on board with Snowy against my hair.

“Um, ouch,” I said, as he tightened his grip, apparently intense about the injustice of their anti-blue stance.

He looked down and noticed the bandage, then dropped my hand, looking apologetic, concerned, and really cute.

“Sorry. What happened to you? Why did you dye your hair blue anyway? I didn’t see you as the rebellious type.”

I shrugged, still uncomfortable around him, aware of the way he pursed his lips while he waited for my response. “I thought it would be fun. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Snowy wasn’t happy when she found me in the bathroom with my blue hair, but then again nothing about yesterday made her happy.”

“You hurt your wrist?”

I shook my head. “No, it was the psycho Hybrid who pinned Grim to the wall with butter knives. You know, some Hotbloods can get so hot that they actually burn. I guess I knew that, since I did it with the demons, but I didn’t really
know
it until now. Anyway, it was a long night.”

He stared at me with a different look, one that reminded me of the hard tough guy from the stone’s future and made my stomach twist with guilt.

“So a psycho Hybrid burned your wrist? Man, Dari, you need a bodyguard or something.”

I remembered the dream, the one with Lewis. Maybe I had a bodyguard or something more permanent. Would I always be forever living in different alternate realities with every guy I knew? At least visions of Smoke didn’t rear their ugly head every time I saw him. I froze as I wondered if there was a reality out there somewhere that had me dating Smoke. In that reality Snowy would kill me.

I shook it off, trying to focus on Osmond and whatever he’d been saying. “Yeah, I seem to be a trouble magnet.” Okay, lame, but he smiled, giving the shaft to dangerous Osmond which was good because his nice mouth was for smiling not kissing. I had to stop thinking about kissing.

“Not only do you get burned by Hybrids, but also get sent to the office for dying your hair. All kinds of trouble.” He smiled then, a full smile that showed his teeth and made me blush for some reason and stare at my boots. My boots were cute though, even if they were black. I liked the buckles.

He said, “You could fight it, all in the cause of personal expression or something like that.”

I looked up at him, at his nice smile. Shaking my head I said, “It’s just blue hair, how is that something to fight about?”

He was so close to me that I could see the faded freckles sprinkled across his nose from summer.

“It’s just blue hair, how is that something to kick someone out of school for?” he retorted, reaching down to pull a strand of hair out, letting it whip for a moment in the wind before it escaped his fingers then tangled over my nose. I stared at him before I turned my head, searching the cars in the parking lot for the grape colored mustang where Lewis would be waiting for me.

He wasn’t there of course. Slide had him. I couldn’t say anything normal, but happily it was only a few more steps before we reached his truck and I climbed in, glad for the brief time when I could think straight without my heart pounding. When I looked at him I saw a different Osmond, one who knew a different me. I had to focus. He was my brother’s friend. I wasn’t betraying Lewis when I got a ride home from him, even if I thought he was pretty, like one of my favorite ponies.

“Any plans for the weekend?” he asked, pulling out of the parking lot, not seeming to notice how I’d jumped when he spoke.

“Um, I guess I have to fix my hair. You?”

“It’s too bad,” he said, shooting me a glance that made my stomach twist. “I think the blue looks really nice with your eyes.”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling even as I turned awkwardly to stare out the window at the passing remnants of winter. The rest of the drive was spent listening to the songs interrupted by commercials on the radio, but at least I didn’t have to think of something to say, to try and act normal.

After he pulled up at my mom’s house and put the truck in park he said, “I’ll see you,” with that nice smile adding, “Try not to get into too much trouble.”

“Me?” I asked, giving Snowy’s innocent look a try as I grabbed my bag off the floor. “No problem. Hey, thanks for the ride.”

I hopped out and gave him what I hoped was a nice, normal smile before he waved once then pulled out.

I exhaled slowly as I shrugged off the guilt. I didn’t do anything with Osmond. I didn’t owe anything to Lewis, even if I had gone to his garage and kissed him repeatedly. My cheeks burned as I walked to the front door of the symmetrical white house with black shutters.

“I’m home,” I called flinging open the door, letting it thump against the wall. When no one responded, I noticed how quiet and empty the house felt, like I was alone. I hadn’t been alone in my house in what felt like forever. Of course that was normal because I was three hours early.

I hummed loudly as I walked up the stairs, filling the space with my voice. I didn’t feel lonely for very long though because as soon as I flopped onto my bed, I was out. I slept until around four when Snowy came into my room, bouncing on my bed to wake me up.

“I brought your homework,” she said.

I kept my eyes closed, wondering why she would think that would be something worth waking up for.

“So, Lewis is your Intended? What’s he like with his soul? Did he kiss you again?”

I looked at her blearily, wondering how she could look so fresh and beautiful after a full day of school.

“Who let you in?” I mumbled.

“Your extremely hair challenged uncle, the one who thinks it’s funny to get soot on anything pink. He doesn’t look very happy, particularly for someone who should be feeling brilliant for getting an asset like Axel allied to the House. Maybe it was too easy for him,” she said with a negligent shrug.

“Or maybe it was when he heard from Grim about the Hybrid who was running around causing havoc and sticking people to walls. Or maybe it was about the blue hair? Why didn’t you tell me that my hair was against the rules?”

She raised her delicate eyebrows questioningly. “What rules?”

I glared at her until she blinked looking genuinely bewildered.

“You mean you actually got in trouble for dying your hair? Good, yet lame. I mean, it’s good because personally what is the point of rules if it doesn’t at some point keep people from doing something that is one of your pet peeves, namely, looking bad in front of you, and yet at the same time, I am not so blind as to realize that it’s not entirely realistic to expect that everyone else is going to have my astonishingly good taste.” She smiled then, a real smile that made me smile back, even if she probably had just insulted me. “Are you going to fight it?” she asked, just like Osmond had.