Ordinary (Anything But)

Ordinary

Anything But #1

Lindy Zart

Ordinary

Anything But #1

Lindy Zart

Published by Lindy
Zart

Copyright 2012 Lindy
Zart

Cover Design 2013 by Marcy Rachel Designs

This book is a work of fiction.

Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons,

living
or dead, is entirely coincidental.

This is dedicated to Tiffany with lots of love.

I wouldn’t be sharing my work with the

world if you hadn’t given me a little push.

I’m glad you did.

Table of Contents:

Something’s wrong with Christian.

Honor Rochester stared across the classroom at the dark-haired boy. A fine sheen of sweat covered his neck and his hea
d was turned away from everyone, but Honor could still see his skin was pale and his hands were fisted in his lap. He didn’t look so good. Honor surveyed the room, wondering if anyone else noticed the obvious discomfort their classmate was in. No one glanced his way.

The classroom smelled of chalk and bubblegum, though the latter wasn’t allowed. Four haphazard rows of desks filled
the majority of the room, students occupying all twenty-eight seats. The History teacher, Mrs. Logan, lectured in her monotone voice that was soft, timid, and easy to tune out. She was thin and plain-faced with light brown hair, habitually wearing drab clothing and today she hadn’t disappointed with her red dress that hung on her slim frame and black nondescript shoes.

Christian’
s head jerked back with his teeth clenched. Honor jumped, her heart rate escalating.
Why isn’t anyone doing anything?
As she watched, his hands gripped the desk and his back contorted. Honor’s eyes darted to Mrs. Logan, to her classmates. No one even seemed to be aware of what was going on—except Natasha. She watched Christian with an almost disinterested look on her face, like she was bored.

“
Christian
,” Honor whispered urgently, leaning partially out of her desk. “Christian, are you okay?” He didn’t respond and when Christian lurched to his feet and stumbled toward the door, Honor unthinkingly shot to hers as well.

“Christian?” the teacher called. She blinked at Honor. “Miss Rochester,
what’s going on?”

Honor looked at
Mrs. Logan, then at the doorway Christian passed through. “I think he was sick. And, I, um…I have to go to the bathroom.” Honor’s face reddened as snickers erupted in the room.

“Then, by all means, go.” The teacher handed Honor a stick that read
Hall Pass
on it and motioned to the door.

H
er hurried footsteps led her from the room and she pulled up short outside the classroom door. The corridor was long and dim—empty. Gray lockers lined either side of the walls. It smelled faintly of body odor and that day’s lunch of chili and cinnamon rolls. She hesitated outside the boys’ restroom.
Why am I doing this? I don’t even really know him.
She cracked the door open and called, “Christian?” The only sound was that of water dripping from a faucet. “Christian? Are you in here?”

She
pushed the door open the rest of the way and walked inside, wrinkling her nose at the strong scent of urine and disinfectant, setting the hall pass on the sink counter. The garbage can was almost empty, but that wasn’t surprising. How often did guys really wash their hands? There were four urinals, all thankfully not in use. That would be embarrassing if any were. She bent down and eyed under the five stalls, seeing no shoes. Honor straightened, frowning.
Where did he go? He couldn’t have left the school that quickly.

A shrill buzz sounded
, announcing school was out for the day. Honor started at the unexpected noise. The muted sounds of loud voices and shoes stampeding down the hallway reached her ears and she decided it was a good time to split. She placed her hand on the cool handle of the door and pulled as someone pushed, causing her to stumble back.

That someone
was Ryder Delagrave.

Barely able to hold in a moan, she met his intimidating gaze.
He was the last person Honor wanted to see so of course he would be the first. Ryder smiled that mocking smile of his that never quite reached his eyes, sliding past Honor. His dark blond hair was always styled into an artful mess that Honor was sure he spent more time on than she did her own hair. His nose was long and straight, his cheekbones sharp, and Ryder’s eyes were an unusual shade of green, like murky swamp water. He was tall, close to six feet in height, leanly muscled, and always dressed in expensive clothes like Diesel, Hugo Boss, and Calvin Klein. Today he had on a dark blue buttoned-down shirt, faded jeans, and black boots she’d bet cost more than her entire wardrobe.

His palm went up to hold
the door shut. Honor’s pulse quickened and she inhaled sharply, eyes locked on the barricade that was his hand. “Hello, Honor. Were you waiting for me?”

All she could say on the subject of Ryder was
that she was glad it was the middle of May and they were both seniors.
Two long years
she’d had to deal with his ridicule and torment, since he’d moved to Anderson Junction their sophomore year. Luckily, Honor wouldn’t have to put up with him anymore after school was out—
ever
. She would go off to college, become a physical therapist, and start her career helping people.

And Ryder…hopefully Ryder went somewhere far, far away.

“Yes. I was waiting for you, in the boys’ bathroom, hoping you’d show. I know it’s your most favorite place to be. Glad I got to see you. Now, please move,” she said, hating the way her voice shook.

She
caught the scent of Ryder’s expensive cologne when he shifted, his smile widening. It was pleasantly sweet-smelling, which annoyed her. “You know you want me. Don’t deny it. I’d want me too if I was a girl.”

Honor paused and shook her head, her long black hair sweeping her shoulders. “Do you know how disturbing that sounds?”

His warm, cinnamon breath fanned her neck and blew tendrils of her hair upward as he leaned toward her, saying quietly into her ear, “I’m a disturbing kind of guy.”

Jerking away from the dizzying heat and scent of him, her back hit
the wall behind them and jarred some gumption back into her. “That’s the first thing you’ve ever said that is actually true.”

“Ah, come on, Honor, I say all kinds of factual stuff, most obvious the line about you wanting me.”

“You have a problem.”

He cocked his head. “I do? What’s that?”

“You’re egotistical and rude and conceited. You think everyone wants you.” Her words built steam as she lashed out, “You
think
you’re
perfect
.”

“That’s a problem?”

Flustered, a common occurrence in Ryder’s presence, Honor shot back, “Only you would think it isn’t.”

“I’m hurt.” He did this fake pouting thing that made her stomach dip.
Why
did he have to be so good-looking? Physical beauty totally wasted on an ugly soul. “And here I thought we were friends. You mean all those times you smiled at me were a hoax? I kept those smiles close to my heart. You didn’t mean
any
of them? I am literally crying on the inside.” He flicked an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye.

Face burning, she said through clenched teeth, “I will
never
be your friend and I
don’t s
mile at you.”

Closing the distance between them until her back was flat to the wall, Ryder placed his palms on either side of her head, leaning down to place his mouth close to hers, the intensity of his eyes holding her gaze. “Oh, Honor, you
so
smile at me.”

Her breath stuttered as tingles crawled down her arms and legs.
Ryder moved away with a bow and a hand gesture that said,
After you
. She looked at him, wondering if it was a trick. When he merely inclined his head, she grabbed the door handle and yanked it open, relief slamming into her so strong her knees went weak. Honor felt like she’d been holding her breath the whole time in the bathroom and she was just now able to suck air into her lungs.

“Be seeing you, Honor,” he called after her.

Honor rushed down the hall and burst through the doors that led to sunshine and escape from Ryder. Why did he pick on her all the time? Why did she feel the way she did around him when most of the time she
loathed
him? Ryder looked one way at her, but his actions said something else. His words said one thing and his tone said another. He was confusing, irritating.

The heat
outside was instantaneous as the sun found her pale skin and began to roast it, making her hair damp with sweat. Her pink tee shirt stuck to her skin and Honor’s jean shorts felt uncomfortably loose with moisture. She sucked in a lungful of humid air and turned toward the parking lot. The pale purple and white lilac bushes were in bloom and their heady scent filled the air. She shielded her blue eyes with a hand and scanned the school grounds, looking for Christian.

A few kids sat in the green grass, some hovered by the trees across the lawn, but most everyone was fast leaving the red-bricked place of ed
ucation. She didn’t blame them. A sick feeling swooped through her stomach at the sight of two rough-looking men escorting Christian into the back of a silver Chevrolet Tahoe. He was trying to shake them off, but he wasn’t getting far. As Honor watched, her breaths short, his head drooped and his shoulders slumped at the same time his knees buckled. They tossed him in the vehicle and slammed the door shut, casting furtive glances about. The taller one made eye contact with her and Honor’s heart tripped in its beat.

She
averted her gaze, going completely still; sure they could hear her heart racing if they listened really hard. A thought, childish and of course untrue, feathered trough her mind:
If I can’t see them, maybe they can’t see me.
The sound of a motor starting and tires squealing announced their departure. She glanced to where the vehicle had been seconds ago. Honor realized her hands were clenched so tightly at her sides her nails were digging into her flesh. She relaxed her hands only to find they were shaking.

“What just happened?”
came out a choked whisper. A warm breeze caught her black hair and blew it up and around her face. Honor pushed it out of her eyes. The school lawn was empty now. That scene could easily have been imagined—except it hadn’t been.

Honor remembered she had to work
that night and started to walk, her thoughts a jumbled mess divided between Christian and what those men wanted with him and the enigma that was Ryder. She was almost halfway home when she remembered she’d left her homework that was due the next day at the school. With a deep sigh, she backtracked to the school and got what she needed.

Shifting
her eyes from Mrs. Logan’s curious look as she set the retrieved hall pass on her desk, Honor quickly turned away.

“Honor?
Something you want to talk about?”

Honor hesitated at the classroom door, wondering if she should say something to the
teacher. Only she didn’t know what to tell her, so Honor shook her head and left without a word.

Anderson Junction, Wisconsin had a population somewhere around two thousand that didn’t rise or lower too significantly
over the years. It got its name from the railways that crisscrossed through town, once a hotspot for transportation of people and goods, now only occasionally used. Trains traveled through the town just enough for the residents of Anderson Junction to remember they were still around. Only a couple bars were in town and both served food. There was a nice library and a bowling alley and a movie rental store. Nothing too exciting ever really happened in Anderson Junction.

Honor’s steps slowed. She felt cold in the balmy heat. Vehicles drove up and down the street. Kids played in their front yards, their high-pitched voices gleeful and giggly. The sun continued its unrelenting attack on her fair skin. The air smelled of freshly mowed grass and blooming flower
s. None of it registered.
Who were those men? What were they doing with Christian? What was wrong with Christian? What did it all mean?

The questions bombarded her, but Honor had no answers.

She and Christian Turner had lived in the same town and gone to the same school since forever. They were polite to one another, but had never been friends. So why was she so concerned? She barely knew him.
Because he’d seemed so…helpless.
He was the last person she would describe as such on a normal day. The boy was taller and more muscled than any other student at school. Christian wasn’t exactly handsome, but there was something about him that had always caused Honor’s eyes to turn his way. His most noteworthy features were his intense gray eyes and sharp cheekbones. His was an intriguing face, more striking than anything. It was a face that demanded notice, warranted a second glance, and an even closer look.

Honor paused and looked up from the sidewalk. She’d walked past her house. Frazzled didn’t begin to explain how she was presently feeling.
She backtracked to the white two-story house with black trim and a porch. The roof shingles were peeling up, as was the exterior paint. Red and pink flowers surrounded the front of the house in an attempt to distract the eye from the slow decline of the structure. A swing was at the far end of the porch. The house would be so unlike from what it was, had circumstances been different. Everything would be different.

The screen
door creaked as she opened it, the scent of chili hitting her. Honor sighed. She was chilied out for the day. And really, who would want to make chili when it was so
hot
out? The school and her mother would, apparently. The foyer had white walls and wood floors and was habitually littered with shoes, coats, and books. Today was no different. Honor let her backpack drop from her arms, the relief from the heavy weight instant. Framed family photos lined the walls in an embarrassing journey through Honor’s adolescence. She paused at one and lightly touched her father’s smiling face. Her eyes burned and Honor turned away.