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“I’m fine,” I answered his unasked question. Taking the hand still on my shoulder, I gave it a reassuring squeeze. “But you haven’t explained why you’re here yet.”
“Because he’s special,” the strident voice came from the front entrance of the school, and I turned toward the newcomer, surprised.
Her blond tresses were fluffed to maximum…flufficity (if that wasn’t a real word, I declared it as one). Light pink eyeshadow made her green eyes pop vibrantly, and her lips were cherry red. I knew girls like her. Hell, I had been the butt of a joke from girls like her. They had sticks so far up their asses that it could’ve been considered anal.
“Hello! Gather around!” Her voice was just as aggravating—high-pitched with the slightest Southern drawl. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Or possibly stab her when her gaze rested on Beau appreciatively.
Thirsty bitch.
“I’m Maria, and I’m going to be your tour guide.”
Tour of your damn vagina, I thought, trying to ignore the blatant ogling of my best friend. I would bet my very soul that she would try to get him to her bedroom by the end of the day. And let me tell you, my soul was a very valuable object. All dark and twisted and lovable.
God, what was wrong with me?
This was Beau, not my boyfriend. Why did I have the urge to pee on him like a damn dog claiming its territory?
Maria was babbling, hands moving animatedly to emphasize her point, but I tuned her out.
School is so amazing and schoolish. School has classrooms and teachers. School has constipated puppies being kicked by Oompa Loompas on acid.
Or maybe I was taking creative liberties on her speech.
We stayed in the courtyard, the grass spliced apart by a circular drive and a wide fountain. A monster was carved into the stone, each detail crafted with the utmost care. I tried to decipher the creature, but it was an odd combination of a lion, dragon, and human. Nothing I had seen before, but with the capability to evoke fear deep within me.
I pulled my attention away and grasped Beau’s hand. He looked surprised at my initiation of contact, but not unpleased. With a squeeze meant to reassure, he pulled me up the steep staircase and through the front door.
The interior of the school was just as opulent as the exterior. A three-tiered chandelier greeted us, providing a golden aperture toward another set of stairs. The brown, wooden walls were devoid of any pictures or decorations. Just wood and fine-trimmed rails. The furniture in the initial room, which I assumed served as a lobby, consisted of two leather couches placed into a semicircle and a fireplace carved into the wall.
A couple of students were lounging around, each dressed in the same outfit Maria wore: pleated bottoms and white shirts.
“Tanner!” Maria called cheerfully. A young man lifted his head, surveying Maria with barely concealed distaste.
The first word I could think of was hot. And not in the way you would expect. His hand was inches away from the flickering flames, a serene expression crossing his face as he came close to burning himself.
And of course, he was gorgeous too. A strong jawline framed by blond, almost golden, hair. He had aqua blue eyes, the color of a Caribbean Sea, and full, cupid bow lips.
So yes, I suppose you could argue he was hot in more ways than one.
His free hand held a cigarette, and he absently put it to his lips and took an indolent drawl.
“You know you’re not supposed to smoke in here,” Maria huffed, crossing her arms over her chest.
“When has smoking ever killed you?” His voice was raspy with a strange, unfamiliar lilt. An accent of some sort, but I couldn’t pinpoint the exact location. Australian, perhaps? His eyes flickered from face to face, stopping on mine.
“Gunshots, on the other hand…” Trailing off, he shoved the butt of the cigarette into the hearth and stood to his full height. He wasn’t as tall as Beau, but he was more muscular, each individual one articulated through his thin black T-shirt. Unlike the others, he wasn’t dressed in the uniform required of all school students.
Without another word, he shouldered past us and up the stairs. He was near the top when he turned to look over his shoulder, a cruel smile forming on his face.
He raised his thumb and pointer finger, a bad impersonation of a gun, and fired.
I almost felt as if the bullet speared my chest.
