Wicked Sense Page 14

  “Wait until I tell your mother about you bringing boys to your room,” Aunt Gemma says.

  It doesn’t faze Skye. “I talked to her earlier this morning. I should have mentioned it, actually. Knowing her, she’d be so proud of me.”

  “Young lady—”

  “Aunt Gemma, we’re behaving,” Skye says, friendly. “Besides, we’ve only been there for five minutes. If we were doing something, that would have been… a letdown.”

  Bad Skye.

  ***

  I arrive at school as a conqueror. I have a glimpse of Jane’s life, with all eyes on Skye and me. We leave the Volvo, our royal carriage, and make our way to the entrance, cutting through the gossip and the incredulous stares. It’s a little sad to realize I’m as shallow as everybody else, but it feels so good to be dating her.

  As if to reinforce the image, I put my arm over Skye’s shoulders, and she welcomes it. She seems to be enjoying it, but she tenses a little and looks at her right in a sudden motion.

  Following her gaze, I see Jane and Brianna talking to each other, away from us. Brianna is the first girl I’ve ever kissed. The one who created my good-kisser reputation.

  It doesn’t surprise me that Jane and she were on speaking terms (I mean, if Brianna was capable of kissing me when I was a pariah, she is capable of anything). But I find it weird when Brianna nods, then walks in the direction of the school entrance, her path on a collision course with ours.

  Skye and I don’t stop, but we keep staring at Brianna. When Brianna is close to us, she whispers, “Blinding potion, bitch.”

  “Hey! Watch yourself,” I warn her.

  I release Skye and put myself between the two of them. Brianna turns and starts walking back to Jane.

  But Skye takes two quick steps toward Brianna and touches my first make-out partner on the back of her neck. It’s a soft touch—not a slap, or a shove. Somehow, that startles Brianna even more. Brianna panics, yelling and rubbing her neck repeatedly where Skye touched her.

  Skye retreats to my side, giving Brianna a triumphant look. Which only makes Brianna even more freaked out. She runs to Jane, who holds her, and tells her something. But Brianna won’t calm down, and Jane slaps her on the face, in the only way Jane knows it: hard.

  Brianna is stunned but stops her crazy act. Jane grabs her by the arm and drags her to the back of the parking lot.

  When they leave, everyone’s stares turn to Skye and me. Nobody understands what just happened, least of all me.

  Skye holds my hand and leads me through the school gates, smiling as if we had never been interrupted. “She’s not the Singularity,” she whispers to me. “Who is she?”

  “My past,” I say, as if I have a past.

  Skye’s eyebrows go up. “The gossip girl you kissed, huh? Interesting.”

  Instead of leading me through the doors, Skye makes a sharp detour, and we arrive at a picnic table behind the cafeteria. “What did she mean?” I ask, seeing we’re alone.

  “The cream. It wasn’t an allergic reaction. Jane and that girl put a blinding concoction in my moisturizer. And your ex led me outside and yanked off my towel. I recognized her voice.”

  It’s like one of those blurry pictures that suddenly snaps into focus.

  “She still likes you,” Skye says.

  Afraid to say anything, I realize that every girl I have ever kissed is a psycho of some sort.

  Maybe magic is real: I must have some curse or something.

  Chapter 38: Skye

  After the incident with Drake’s ex, the school has a few more smaller surprises for us. At different times, both Drake and I are summoned to the principal’s office to account for our days off. We give our versions (mine: invented Mum’s health complications; his: invented returning headaches). The principal is very understanding. Drake and I are becoming expert liars.

  When we’re at our lockers, Priscilla asks me what happened with Brianna.

  “She’s jealous,” I reply.

  “Okay. What about you?” she asks me. When she sees my puzzled expression, she adds, “You went after her! I thought you were going to hit her.”

  I try to think of a good explanation, but the best I can come up is, “I just wanted to let her know Drake’s with me now.”

  Priscilla chuckles. “You are into him!”

  I smile slyly, but I don’t answer.

  The whole day I sense Jane around school. She’s like a shark circling me. She never gets close, but the constant reminder takes a toll on my nerves. When the final bell rings, I can’t wait to leave the grounds. Drake gives me a ride. We stop at a deli and go eat the subs (mine vegetarian) at the Gas Works Park.

  He shivers and says, “It never gets this cold in November. Can’t your kind slow down global warming?”

  “We already did. This—” I point up “—is us slowing it down!”

  He stares at me, hoping to detect a lie, but I keep my poker face. This is fun.

  “Seattle is growing on me,” I say, gazing over to the boats cruising Lake Union. Even on a cloudy Thursday afternoon, the waters are busy. “Have you lived here all your life?”

  “Yep,” he says, relaxed.

  I reach for his plate and take a carrot stick. “In the same house?”

  “Same neighborhood. We had to move after our first house burned down.”

  The stick stops halfway to my mouth. “Your house burned down? How come you never told me this?”

  “Well, it’s not something I volunteer on the first few dates. Hi, I’m Drake. I set fire to my house.”

  “You did it?”

  “Not intentionally. I’m not an arsonist.”

  I finally eat the carrot.

  But this heavy silence is upon us. Drake probably notices it too. He has more to say. “Okay, I’ll tell you. I stole a cigarette from my father and went to the basement to smoke it. I coughed a lot, my first time, you know, and dropped the butt. I went for a glass of water in the kitchen, then outside for some air, and completely forgot about it. Next thing I know, the walls were hot, the curtains on fire, and I…” His voice trails.

  “What?”

  “I rushed upstairs and found Mona. She was unconscious—the smoke. I almost killed her, Skye.”

  My hand reaches for him. I stroke his hair, his face, and he holds my hand in his, pressing it against his cheek.

  “I don’t like to talk about it,” he mumbles.

  “It was an accident, Drake,” I say.

  He nods, but he looks away toward the lake.

  I move behind him, sit on the grass with my legs around him, and embrace him. He leans back on me. I kiss the side of his neck softly, once. We stay quiet for a while, but this time the silence is comfortable.

  I touch his messed-up hair. “Are you going to do something about your hair?” I ask.

  “Nah. I’m just having a bad hair year,” he says softly.

  That’s the last thing he says for a long time. I just keep running my fingers through his hair.

  The cold wind makes us get even closer. The cuddling is so simple but so satisfying. I forgot how nice it’s to… be together.

  “Where are you going to college?” His voice is distant.

  That’s an odd question. “I’m not. At least, I don’t have plans yet. You?”

  “Don’t know. Don’t have the money. Yet.”

  “Did you even apply?” I ask him.

  “Nah. It’s no use. Mona is the future of the family. If only one of us goes to college, it should be her.”

  Aha! That’s the link between college and our previous subject. I guess that’s his guilt talking, but I don’t ask him about it. Instead, I say, “But what are you going to do?”

  “I guess I’ll just backpack across Europe.”

  “Really?” I did it. Kind of. I used taxis, trains, airplanes, and four-star hotels. Since it doesn’t count as a backpacking experience, I don’t mention it. “Do you like Europe?”

  “Not really. It just sounds like someth
ing a slacker like me would do.” He shrugs.

  “You’re not a slacker. Priscilla told me you do well in school. That you’re even doing pre-calc. Can’t you get cash for college?”

  “I can always sell my body to some rich horny Euro women.” His voice is mischievous.

  “Like me? Is that what you’re saying, you naughty boy?”

  “Maybe.” He tries to rotate his body to face me, but I don’t let him.

  “If that’s what you want, let me check the goods,” I say. Since I’m still embracing him from behind, my hands go under his shirt, caressing his chest, his abs. He doesn’t complain. “Yeah, I think we can make a deal.”

  He chuckles. “Why is it sell my body? Shouldn’t it be lease my body?”

  “That’s beyond my area of expertise.”

  Even with my playful excuse gone, I continue to explore his upper body with my hands.

  He chuckles softly. “Are you trying to seduce me, Miss Skye?”

  I grin, but I don’t answer him. It’s insane being around him. Every glance, every touch, every thought feels like foreplay.

  I think about our future. I think I may be over my bad experiences with Connor. Talking to Priscilla helped me. Apparently, all I needed was some sympathy.

  With Drake, I’d be starting over, in a different relationship. A different kind of relationship. Drake and I are equals. I trust him. That makes all the difference.

  With Connor, I wanted the experience. With Drake, I want Drake.

  I plant a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck. He’s dreamy. Delicious.

  Without realizing it, I blurt it out. “You’re dreamy-licious…”

  He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, probably confused by my assertion. “Even my girlfriend is calling me names now…”

  To my surprise, I don’t flinch after he utters the GF word.

  Chapter 39: Drake

  Sometimes I feel like Skye does everything she can to drive me crazy. In many, many ways.

  Her hands are all over me, making my blood boil—the good kind of boiling.

  She coaxed a confession out of me about my past I have never discussed with anyone.

  She inspired me to reconnect with my little sister.

  Oh, yeah—and the witchcraft stuff.

  After I call her my girlfriend, I expect a reaction of some kind. Her body stiffening, her hands leaving me, some sign. But nothing changes.

  I have no idea why it’s so important to me to label our relationship. Maybe I’m afraid she’ll leave me again. I don’t know. But at least we don’t have to talk about it and try to define what our “thing” is anymore.

  We just are. And that’s good enough for me.

  My mind wanders. I come back to this morning.

  “Why did you go after Brianna?” I ask.

  “After I sensed Jane’s presence—”

  “As one does…” I cut her off.

  “Hey! After I sensed Jane, I had an idea. I had to touch Brianna to make sure she’s not the Singularity,” she says. “I think that if I touch her I can feel her hidden magical energy.”

  “But didn’t she touch you when she trapped you in the locker room?”

  “I was distressed at the time; if she was leaving just traces of energy, it would be hard to sense it. I mean, my face was burning. I’m not sure I’d notice the tingling sensation of another Sister nearby.”

  I nod, as if it makes perfect sense. I still can’t believe that I believe it. “Do some more magic,” I say. “Something that I can see. It doesn’t need to be anything amazing, just something that will show me neither of us is crazy.”

  I feel her chest heaving behind me, probably a deep sigh. “Let me think of something,” she says.

  ***

  The next day we are at the school lot, and I have a decision to make. We arrive early, after our morning spell/lay-on hands/tease session. The warm mug Skye has just handed me looks suspicious.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “You wanted proof that I’m a witch,” Skye answers.

  “Is this poison?” The concoction is purplish and smelly. “What did you put in there?”

  “You don’t want to know.” But she sees my face, sighs, and adds, “Okay. Among other things, beets, bug juice, some roots I’m not—”

  “Wait! ‘Bug juice’?” I don’t think she’s kidding.

  She chuckles. “It’s just a different kind of smoothie. Just drink the damn thing.” She pushes the mug towards my mouth, but I resist.

  I take a step back. “You still didn’t answer me. What is it?” I unscrew the lid. I want to take small sips. Just in case.

  “It’s a truth potion,” she says, looking away.

  I only raise my eyebrows until she looks at me again.

  She extends her hand. “If you don’t believe me, let me take a sip and ask me again.”

  “Ha-ha,” I say. “No, seriously, what is it?”

  Boulder comes out of nowhere. “Hey, Romeo,” he greets me. He nods toward Skye. “Ms. Romeo.”

  She rolls her eyes.

  He turns to me. “Tickets arrived, D-Man. You owe me sixty bucks.”

  Tickets? “What—”

  “Hey, I need some coffee.” He takes the mug from my hands.

  “No!” Skye and I plead at the same time.

  Boulder looks at us suspiciously and grins. “What?” He raises the mug above his head. My girlfriend and I jump like small children trying to reach it.

  “Don’t drink it,” I say.

  Boulder wags his finger at us. “It’s spiked! Is that it? You little devils.” He lowers the mug and takes a deep breath. “It smells nasty! It’s not coffee. What is it? Energy drink? Blueberry juice? Açai? I love açai.”

  I try to wrestle the mug away from him, but Skye lowers my arm. She shakes her head, sporting an impish smile.

  He looks at both of us, shrugs, and takes a deep gulp from the potion. “That’s the stuff,” he says before downing the rest of the contents. We can almost see the flow of liquid inside his massive neck.

  “Any time now,” Skye murmurs to me.

  Boulder wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “That’s how we should start the day.”

  Skye nods. She’s so confident, I don’t doubt her anymore.

  “You two look particularly hot today,” Boulder says.

  I raise my eyebrows. Skye gives me a furtive look. “Really, Boulder?” she says. “So you think Drake’s hot?”

  “Sure he is,” he says with a tone that implies that Skye is crazy for doubting my hotness.

  I cringe.

  But Boulder is on a roll. “I try to surround myself with handsome men. Not that I’m into guys, but half the fun of being in the gym is checking out each other’s bodies, isn’t it? Comparing. And it’s nice to be around beautiful people. Like you, Skye. And The Predator. Where is she?” His eyes scan the lot. “Oh, she’s not around.”

  “Do you like Priscilla, Boulder?” I ask.

  “I love her, D-Man. She rocked my world. She caught me right after the football ban, and she was there for me.” He nods to himself, absorbed in deep thought, and I see his teary eyes. “I don’t know what I’m going to do without a scholarship. It keeps me awake at night.”

  He shakes his head. I’m afraid to say anything.

  “I was hoping she would stay with me; that she’d make things easier. I thought my big stick would be enough to keep her around, but she told me she isn’t a one-man girl.”

  Skye mouths to me, “big stick?” I nod. Boulder is anything but modest. She giggles.

  Her giggle catches his attention. “And you, sweetheart, don’t you dare go breaking D-Man’s heart.”

  “What makes you think I’m going to walk out on him?”

  “Historical evidence,” Boulder says. He points to her. “Remember—”

  “A reckoning, I know,” Skye says.

  Huh?

  Boulder nods and hands me the mug back. “Catch you lovebirds la
ter,” he says and walks away slowly, his shoulders hunched. A never-before-seen posture on him.

  “Is he going to be okay?” I ask Skye.

  “It should wear off in a few minutes. I made it mild.” She looks amused.

  “So, this potion causes depression or what?”

  “Most truths are unpleasant, Drake,” she says.

  I stare at her. “Is that what you were trying to do to me? What were you going to ask me?”

  She grins. “Nothing too personal. But don’t be mad. Cheer up. Your best friend thinks you’re hot!”

  She has a way of making me believe that things can’t get any weirder. And of shattering that belief moments later.

  “That’s beyond disturbing,” I say. Now this thought will never leave my mind.

  “He’s not the only one, you know,” she says, resting her hands on my sides and pulling me to her.

  I can’t stay mad for long.

  Chapter 40: Skye

  After school, I want to hang out with Drake, but he has some errands to do for his father. One of the drawbacks of owning a car. So I call Priscilla, asking if we can go on our mall excursion.

  She gets excited and shows up at my door twenty minutes later. I jump into her watered-green Prius, where blasting angry-chick rock welcomes me.

  “Wow, she is pissed,” I say, referring to the girl singer.

  “What?” Priscilla looks at me bewildered. “Those are empowering songs.”

  “Sure they are,” I reply, but she can’t hear me over the squeaky voice and heavy beat from the speakers. I try again, yelling, and now without the sarcasm, “I don’t think writing twelve songs about how you’re over your ex, and then singing them in front of thousands of people every night for six months is empowering. Or healthy. Actually, it’s a clear sign she’s definitely not over the guy.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  After a while, we naturally raise the volume of our voices so we can talk over the music. Turning it down never crosses Priscilla’s mind.

  “So, what are we shopping for today?” she asks after we go inside the multi-floor consumerism temple.

  My cheeks blush a bit. “I was thinking about a nice new outfit… for a date.”