Pretty Dark Nothing (4 page)

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Authors: Heather L. Reid

BOOK: Pretty Dark Nothing
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“Can someone get her some water?” he asked, but no one moved. “Are you all asleep? Can’t you see she’s unconscious? Someone get her some water!”

“I-I’ve got some.” Reese handed Aaron a bottle from her backpack. “I don’t know what happened. We were standing here talking. Then, bam! Maximum weirdness. She tumbled toward the floor, and you showed up like Clark Kent. You think she’ll be all right?”

“Sure.” Aaron stroked Quinn’s hair, careful to keep tight control over his power as he touched her. “Can you open the water bottle for me? Splash a little on her face.”

Reese poured some into the palm of her hand and sprinkled the drops with her fingers. Quinn’s eyes blinked open, then closed again.

“Quinn? You’re scaring us. Are you okay?” Reese said. “I wish Marcus would hurry.”

“I think she’s trying to say something.” Aaron bent his lips to Quinn’s ear. “Quinn, can you hear me?”

Quinn licked her lips and moved her head.

“Jeff?” she asked.

Aaron stared at Jeff. The idiot stood there at the front of the crowd like a statue. He’d been just as close when Quinn fainted. Closer. Kerstin stood next to him, laughing with her friend, Spring. She snaked her left arm around Jeff’s, leaving her right hand free to point as she giggled.

“Jeff?” Quinn’s request came louder this time, prompting Kerstin to stop giggling and take note of the situation.

“She’s asking for you, man,” Aaron said.

All eyes moved from Aaron to Jeff who moved toward Quinn, but Kerstin tightened her grip on his arm. Jeff shook his head and looked at the floor. Kerstin smiled.

Aaron wanted to punch him. Hurt him for hurting Quinn. A few years ago he would’ve beaten Jeff to a pulp, let emotion carry him away. Now, he swallowed the anger and let it pass. He’d learned control; he had to hold on to that.

***

The shadows retreated. Unintelligible voices intruded on the darkness—alien, yet familiar. Cold needles pricked her cheek, and she felt the hard floor beneath her. A gentle hand stroked her hair, cool fingers brushing her hot forehead.

She drifted backward for a moment, back to sleep, back to a faceless mass, pushing her down, but she pressed against it, throwing it back. A faint light strummed the gray threads of unconsciousness.

Jeff, she wanted Jeff. Her throat felt like broken glass. She licked her lips and rolled her tongue around to work up some saliva. She willed the muscles in her neck to work, moving her head side to side. Her body ached. She opened her eyes, but the blinding fluorescence hurt. The faint smell of lavender—Reese’s perfume—comforted her almost as much as the thought of being back in Jeff’s arms.

“Welcome back to the land of the living.” Reese’s face came into focus, and Quinn reached out for her. “Want to sit up?”

Quinn nodded. She turned, expecting to see Jeff, but instead of Jeff’s chocolate-brown eyes, her gaze met the intense green of Aaron Collier’s.

“Are you okay?” Aaron asked.

She looked around the crowd for Jeff and found him standing arm-in-arm with Kerstin. And then it all came flooding back.

Jeff and Kerstin were together.

Tired of the pain and humiliation, she almost wished she were dead. Would Jeff even cry? Would he care if she lay pale and silent forever, buried in the ground? Earth-to-earth.

“Quinn? Are you okay? Can you stand?” Aaron asked.

Quinn wished Jeff would look at her with as much concern as Aaron did. “I think so.” Aaron slipped his arm around her waist and helped her to her feet right as Marcus rounded the corner with Mrs. Chin behind him.

“It’s about time,” Aaron said.

“Hey, man, I had to run all over school. I found her crouched over a plate of liver and onions in teacher’s break room.” Marcus stuck his finger in his mouth, gagged, and fell against the lockers.

“What happened, Miss Taylor?” Mrs. Chin’s breath set her head spinning again. Quinn tried to avert her nose as a wave of garlic exploded from Mrs. Chin’s mouth, but the nurse grabbed her face with a chubby hand and came at her with a little flashlight, clicking it on and off in Quinn’s eyes.

“I’m all right.” Quinn twisted her head from Mrs. Chin’s vice grip, rubbing her eyes to clear the spots from her vision. “I didn’t eat breakfast this morning. That’s all. I think my blood sugar dropped or something.”

Mrs. Chin’s determined black eyes searched Quinn’s, then she sighed and turned her round little body to the crowd. “This is why breakfast is so important.” Mrs. Chin launched into one of her healthy-eating-habit lectures, right there in the hallway. Everyone groaned.

“Do you want me to take you home?” Aaron asked quietly.

Home. That was the last place she wanted to be. “No, thanks. Coach White still expects me to attend practice after school. Torture, I know. I’ll be okay.” She took a step, but her legs buckled, and Aaron steadied her again.

Kerstin smirked and nudged Spring with her elbow. They both broke into a snicker. Humiliation served up with a side of spite.

Her hope surged as Jeff grabbed Kerstin by the arm, jerking her away from Spring and cutting her laughter short. Kerstin’s blue eyes flashed. She turned and stomped down the hallway, red hair streaming behind her like fire from a dragon’s mouth.

Jeff approached Quinn, dark eyes warming her with every step. “I’m sorry about Kerstin.” He stopped a few feet away and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Sorry? Is that all you have to say?” Aaron said as he tucked Quinn into the protective crook of his arm.

“Look, I was only trying—”

“Trying to hurt her even more than you already have? Just leave her alone, man.”

Quinn’s head pounded. She wanted to tell Aaron to stay out of it and to tell Jeff she didn’t want him to leave her alone. But her words stuck like a stale tortilla chip in the middle of her throat. The two boys locked stares and looked as if they might lock horns.

“Are you her boyfriend now or something?” Jeff asked.

“I’m not Kerstin’s.”

“That’s enough.” Mrs. Chin inched between them. “I think Miss Taylor has had enough excitement for the day.” She pivoted to address the crowd. “The rest of you, make your way to class or wherever you’re supposed to be this hour.” No one moved. She clapped her hands three times. “
Now
, people. Or do you want to hear about the advantages of good hygiene?”

The crowd dispersed. Quinn forced out a breathy, “Jeff, wait.” But Jeff turned to follow Kerstin, disappearing into the crowd as Quinn’s whispered plea disappeared in the cacophony of hallway traffic.

Quinn sagged against Aaron, defeated. “I should get to class now, too.”

Mrs. Chin narrowed her eyes at Quinn, looked her up and down, and shook her head. “No, not class. I’ll call your mother, Miss Taylor. I think it’s best if you go home, and I don’t want you trying to drive.”

“No!” Quinn couldn’t be home alone, not with the threat of sleep so near and the shadows so close. School was full of distractions to keep her from drifting off, but home wasn’t. “Mom’s in meetings all day and can’t pick me up. I need some lunch, that’s all. It’s only another forty-five minutes. I’ll grab a candy bar from the machine.”

“I’ve never seen someone so determined to stay at school.” She squinted at Quinn, deciding her fate. “I’m still calling your mother; she needs to know. But I won’t send you home if you come to my office for some orange juice and cookies.”

“You’re not going to share your liver and onions with a starving girl, Mrs. C?” Marcus asked. “Shameful. And you’re supposed to be a health professional.”

She scowled at him. “That’s enough from you, Mr. Woods. The three of you should get to class. I’ll take it from here.”

“What? I’m just trying to make the girl laugh. They say laughter is the best medicine. You’re a nurse. You should know that.”

“We’re too late, Mrs. Chin. We’ll get detention without excuses.” Teresa flashed an innocent smile.

Mrs. Chin sighed. “Fine. You can all come to my office then, and I’ll write out the excuses, but I want you three to head straight to class after that. Do you hear me, Mr. Woods?”

Marcus nodded.

“Good.” Mrs. Chin waddled down the corridor. “Let’s go people,” she called over her shoulder.

Quinn pulled away from Aaron. One step, and the world spun. Aaron steadied her with a hand, his touch gentle and warm, and for a moment, she wanted nothing more than for him to pull her close again.

“You should let Aaron help you.” Reese gave Quinn a conspirator’s wink.

Should she? He was more than cute with his brooding green eyes, dark hair, and rugged features. Not like pretty boy Jeff. Something about the way he looked at her, like he knew her, made her nervous. Not creepy nervous, but the excited nervous you feel the first time you ride a rollercoaster. She liked the idea of him liking her, but that didn’t mean she should flirt and fawn and play the damsel in distress, even if she was in distress. She didn’t want to be that girl.

“And I can help you, Reese.” Marcus put his arm around Reese, who brushed it off and gave Marcus a shove.

“That’s Teresa to you, and I can find the nurse’s office on my own, thanks.” Reese took Quinn’s arm and fell in step behind Mrs. Chin. “We’re independent women. We don’t need no boys walkin’ us to class; we’ve got our own legs. But you can carry our bags.”

Marcus slung Teresa’s bag over his shoulder. “Independent women. Humph.”

Quinn glanced back at Aaron. He kicked her backpack, sighed, and then hefted it onto his shoulder. A twinge of guilt flooded her. She hadn’t even thanked him. Maybe they would rush to catch up and she could tell him she was grateful. But they slowed their pace, falling behind and talking too low for her to overhear. Were they talking about her? Maybe he liked her. The thought of that possibility made her feel like a total bitch. He’d saved her, and all she could do was think about Jeff. Now he ignored her, and she wanted his attention.

But she couldn’t think of anyone else, not in that way, not right now, and she didn’t want to encourage Aaron. It wouldn’t be fair to lead him on, not when she still nursed a broken heart. Was it? Besides, he wasn’t Jeff. She tried to catch his eye, to at least give him an indebted smile, but Reese pulled her around the corner before she had the chance.

CHAPTER FOUR

Mrs. Chin led them into the nurse’s office. Four sage-green walls held a small desk and chair. At the back stood a row of cabinets with assorted first aid materials, a sink, and a glass vase with a dozen wilting daisies bending over the side. A cot sat beneath a window overlooking the soccer fields.

“Make yourself comfortable, Miss Taylor.” Mrs. Chin gestured to the cot. “I’ll bring you some cookies once I’ve finished writing up these excuses.”

Quinn barely had time to wave at Reese before the nurse scraped the privacy curtain along the track, cloaking Quinn from the outside world.

Quinn sat, legs dangling, back to the window, and waited. She wanted to pull the flimsy fabric from its hooks. Mrs. Chin said she would give her a few cookies and send her back to class—not quarantine her like a plague victim.

A rustling of pages and the scratching of pen against paper came from the other side of the curtain. “Straight to class, no dawdling,” Mrs. Chin instructed.

“Can I at least see her before I go?” Reese asked.

“She needs to rest,” Mrs. Chin replied. “She’ll be back to class after she has a nap.”

Quinn chewed her bottom lip and twirled a long strand of hair around her finger. She didn’t want to be alone, and she certainly didn’t want to take a nap. Maybe she should have accepted Aaron’s offer to take her home, but it was too late now. Besides, home would be worse, wouldn’t it?

“Bye, Quinn!” two voices—Marcus and Reese—but not Aaron—said in unison. Quinn scratched at her arm, she didn’t want to say goodbye to him anyway.

“See you at practice,” Quinn said to the curtain.

The cabinet doors creaked open, then slammed shut.

“Now, where did I put those? Ah, here we go.” The curtain scraped open. Mrs. Chin held an open box of shortbread cookies and a generic juice box with a tiny white straw.

Quinn went for a cookie first. “Thanks.”

The shortbread had gone soft over time, melting on her tongue and tasting more of bland oatmeal than sweet cookie. Next, she took the orange juice—if it was orange juice. The warm and tangy saccharine liquid made her teeth ache. It probably had more additives than juice, but Quinn drank it without complaint.

“I feel better already.” Quinn handed the empty juice box back to Mrs. Chin, gave her the most charming smile, and stood to leave.

“No hurry. I’ve told Ms. Moore you wouldn’t be in class.” Mrs. Chin pulled a pillow from the cabinet and fluffed it.

“My bag?”

“It’s safe by my desk. Try to take a nap. I’ll give your mother a quick call.” The curtain squeaked down the track again, leaving Quinn alone.

Quinn eyed the pillow with suspicion. She mashed it with her hand and let go, watching the foam spring back to shape. With nowhere to go, she lay her head down, pulling her knees to her chest and her scarf around her nose to block the mixed scent of bleach and garlic.

Any other day, a bed of nails would have been more comfortable than the lumpy, vinyl-covered cot, but exhaustion made it feel like comfy clouds of sleepy goodness. Quinn stiffened, fighting the desire to give up and relax. The shadows closed in with each breath she took, whispering for her to sleep. Her arsenal of energy drinks, caffeine pills, and phone was held hostage on the other side of that curtain. If only she could text Reese and plan a rescue operation.

The wall clock’s metronome tick, along with the
tap tap tap
of Mrs. Chin’s fingers on the keyboard, lulled Quinn into a sense of calm, and her body slowly gave in.

No. No sleeping!

She lifted her head from the pillow and eased off the cot, cringing as the vinyl squeaked beneath her. She peeked around the curtain. Mrs. Chin’s back was to her as she typed; Quinn’s bag lay on the floor next to her. No way to get it without being seen.

Quinn paced the small space, watching the second hand on the round sliver clock tick through the seconds. Twenty minutes to lunch.

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