Bleeding Hearts
Page 22

“Murder and mayhem, the usual. We’re being run off our feet. The Hel-Blar are organizing.”
“Is that even possible?”
“The blood chills.” He grimaced, agreeing.
“They were at the beach earlier.”
“I know. Hunter called it in.”
“We heard some kind of whistle. And it actually scared them. That’s weird, right?”
He nodded.
“Know what it is?”
“No.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah. So watch your back, hippie.”
“You too, 007.”
Chapter 9
Christabel
The cafeteria was all scuffed linoleum, French fries, girls squealing, and guys laughing too loud. But with the help of a good novel, I was in a parlor lit by beeswax candles, with windows wreathed in a damp, menacing fog rolling off the moors. The chatter of voices became the crackling of a fire and the strains of a waltz played on a pianoforte by a girl in a dark dress. The plastic bench underneath me was actually a velvet sofa.
“There she goes.” Lucy interrupted my travels, her voice sounding as if it were far away.
But not far enough.
“Earth to Christa.” She grinned, slapping her lunch tray down onto the table. Green Jell-O wiggled alarmingly. She didn’t look hung over, despite how drunk she claimed to be last night.
“Go away,” I mumbled, trying not to lose my spot. I struggled to smell the wood smoke, to feel the tendrils of mist.
“Never mind her,” Lucy assured her friends cheerfully. She’d introduced us before but I hadn’t really been paying attention. I thought the guy was Nathan and the girl Linnet. Linnet had beautiful dark skin and blue eyes and didn’t say much. Lucy was convinced that if I sat alone at lunch I might waste away from loneliness. I couldn’t convince her that if I had a book with me, I wasn’t lonely.
And it was ironic that now she wanted to talk to me. On the way to school she kept the music so loud my ears rang. She wouldn’t answer a single question about last night.
“She’s always like that when she’s reading,” she continued. “And she’s always reading.”
I peered at her over the top of my novel. “Does your mom know you eat Jell-O?” Aunt Cass thought white sugar, intolerance, and cell phones were the devil. In that order.
Lucy shot me a conspiratorial grin. “If you tell her I eat white sugar, I’ll tell her you’re antisocial and depressed at school. She’ll make you hug.”
“She wouldn’t,” I said, even though I knew she totally would.
Nathan snorted. “When I came out, she made me hug her,” he confirmed. “And she baked me a cake.”
“She baked you a cake?” I echoed. “For being gay?”
“A stevia-sweetened, organic, whole-wheat cake for being brave enough to come out,” Lucy said proudly. I had to admit, Aunt Cass was kind of awesome in her own way. Only she could reclaim a coming-out tradition from the pages of one of my favorite novels and turn it on its head.
“What did she call it?” Nathan shook his head fondly. “An affirmation cake or something?” His hair was short and spiky, bleached bone white. “Your mom’s cracked.”
“Yup,” Lucy agreed cheerfully.
“My mom’s not nearly as cool. She cried for three days straight. Think yours’ll adopt me?”
“Probably.”
I stole a French fry off Lucy’s plate. They were definitely not allowed in the Hamilton household, like the contraband Jell-O. “How come Nicholas and Solange don’t go to school here?” I asked.
“Oh.” Nathan and Linnet both sighed. “Nicholas.” It was the most I’d heard Linnet say. She was quiet as a cat.
Lucy rolled her eyes. “Shut up, you two.” She smirked at me. “They’re totally crushing on my boyfriend. Nathan saw him last night at the lake and he hasn’t shut up about it all day.”
“He is yummy,” Nathan said. “There is a definite dearth of hot guys at this school.”
“The Drakes are homeschooled.” Lucy answered my question before Nathan could really sink into a tangent. Connor had told me he’d been homeschooled too. It must be some kind of family tradition.
“You’re still bringing him to prom, right?” Nathan asked.
Lucy groaned. “You’re as bad as my mom with the prom stuff.”
“I just think he’ll look good in a tux.”
“Stop drooling.” Lucy pointed her finger at him. “And get your own date.”
“Oh, all right,” he grumbled good-naturedly. “He has brothers, right?”
“Yes, like a gazillion of them. But I don’t know if any of them play for your team.”
“Well, find out, woman.”
“What am I supposed to do, take a survey?”
“If you were a real friend,” Nathan said primly, but his eyes twinkled.
“Got your little friend pimping for you, queerbait?” someone sneered from behind us. Nathan went red in the face. Linnet looked like she wanted to crawl under the table.
Lucy leaped to her feet, her fists clenched. “Shut up, Peter.”
I turned my head slowly, flicking him the most disdainful glance I could muster, then I turned my back as if he wasn’t worth my time. And he so wasn’t. Peter just laughed with his friends. Bullies.
If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a bully.