Coveted

  Chapter 18

  After spending a lazy Sunday watching TV with Bran, Monday came too quickly. Sunday had been a day I could indulge the fantasy of a normal, sweet high school relationship. Neither Bran nor I discussed our conversation of the night before. Trusting in him, as scary as it seemed, was what I needed.

  I had allowed myself to forget about Alistair entirely until homeroom when the craziness my life had adopted was right in front of my face. Bran had tried convincing me to give up my favourite spot by the window. Instead he suggested I sit in the desk in the back corner under the fritzy lights.

  "I'll get a seizure back there," I complained. "And what nefarious thing could be possibly do in class with you sitting right next to me that he couldn't have done when we were alone in the mall?" It was only when I accused Bran of becoming creepily possessive that he stopped arguing.

  Alistair walked in and took attendance. He did not look at the students as long or as hard this time. His eyes stopped when he got to Bran and lowered to Bran's hand on mine.

  "Mr. Sheehy, please keep your body parts to yourself in my class," he said coldly.

  Bran withdrew his hand but not without a glare back at his nemesis. The other students looked at each other. Amanda whispered something to Samantha who nodded smugly. Alistair continued down the list.

  As we all got up to head to first period, Alistair said, "Ms. Colomen, could you stay behind for a minute?"

  I looked at Bran whose jaw had clenched shut. I looked back at Alistair. It didn't matter what we had had when. I felt no deep love for him now.

  "I'm sorry, Mr. Roghan" I said, "My next class is on the other side of the school." It was the best excuse I could invent. There was absolutely no reason he would need me to stay behind.

  "It will only take a second," he insisted.

  I looked at Bran, trying to beg him for help with my eyes.

  Alistair looked at him too. "Mr. Sheehy. This is a private matter. Please step into the hall."

  Bran hesitated. For a moment, I thought if he was contemplating a physical altercation. Then, he looked down at me. "I'll be right outside, dove."

  "And I'll be right here," I replied.

  He closed the door behind him. It shut with a loud squeak truncated by a clack. I stared at it. Alistair and I were alone. He walked closer. I took several steps back. He stopped.

  "We're just having a short chat," he said. "Nothing more."

  "About?" I would never have shown a teacher so little respect but I was feeling strong animosity towards him right now. I was just feeling like I had regained my emotional composure. I didn't want anyone or anything to threaten it again.

  He looked at me for several heartbeats. "When it comes to Bran," he said. "All I want for you is to remember."

  My jaw tensed involuntarily. When I replied, it was through clenched teeth. "I have."

  He blinked back as if that confused him. "Everything?"

  "Enough." I had made my choice.

  He looked out the window. It was sunny and warm but a dark line on the horizon showed our morning wouldn't end as nicely as it had begun. "Evidently not," he said. "You better hurry to your next class."

  I bee-lined for the door.

  "What did he say to you?" Bran asked. He looked almost panicked when I joined him.

  I entwined my fingers with his and gave a reassuring squeeze. "Just trying to sow doubt," I said. "It won't work."

  He pulled me against his side in a one-armed hug. We did not separate until we reached Biology. I lifted onto my toes to give him what was supposed to be a quick kiss on the lips. With one hand on the small of my back, he pressed me against him, dowsing the fires with gasoline. When he pulled away, I was breathing heavily.

  "Thank you," he whispered.

  I walked into class feeling dazed. It took me a moment to realize Michael was flagging me down and he was alone.

  "So it looks like I didn't have to worry about you and Bran after all," he said.

  I took the stool next to him. "Why were you worried in the first place?"

  His eyebrows inched higher. "Why wouldn't I be when he comes to my place demanding to know why you won't speak to him. You PMSing or something?"

  "I don't think you understand that your misogyny is not endearing," I muttered as I pulled my books out of my bag. "Where's your other half?" I asked. I was not about to get into the particulars of my weekend with him.

  "Home sick," he said with a small pout. "She picked up food poisoning or something. She spent all day yesterday puking. I promised to check on her after school."

  "Probably from eating at the mall food court," I said as I opened my notebook and returned to my bag in search of a pen.

  He chuckled. "I would normally agree with you but we didn't eat a the food court. She insisted we go to Belle Nuit."

  I raised a brow as I looked up at him. "And how did you pay for that?"

  "She paid," he said with a shrug.

  I laughed and turned back to my task. "You've got a sugar momma!"

  "Yeah, yeah," he grumbled. "But she owed me after tricking me into shopping with her."

  "Whipped," I whispered as I wrote the date in my book.

  He pointed an accusatory finger at me. "I'm blaming you for that. You two were supposed to get all that girly crap done Friday so I wouldn't have to."

  I slammed my pen down on my book. "Have you honestly ever met me before? Since when am I ever girly?"

  "I thought maybe that was just my fault," he said.

  His seriousness made me pause, then I rolled my eyes. "You give yourself way too much credit."

  At lunch, I went to my locker to drop off my books and pick up my reading for English. With Maria home sick, I knew Michael would insist on sitting with us at lunch. While he and Bran kept each other entertained, I could get a head start on my studying for finals.

  If I read over my English today, I could fit in some Social tonight. Of course, it might be wise for me to devote time to Physics every day. I had improved but it had been a struggle.

  My heart was lifted into my throat as gravity took hold. My bag, which I had hastily kept on one shoulder, swung forward, adding its weight to my momentum. Instinctively, I put my hands out to brace myself. While this prevented me from hitting the cement floor with my face, it also ensured my wrists were pushed nearly to breaking.

  I had not noticed Samantha or Amanda lying in wait by Samantha's locker. I also had not noticed that one of them had stretched out a foot.

  "Too bad your white knight can't save you from being such a klutz," Samantha taunted. "Here, let me help you."

  She walked over and stepped on the fingers of my left hand. I didn't cry out. It would simply draw more attention. I allowed only a sharp intake of breath in my shock and pain.

  "Oops," she said. The fact that her foot lingered on my hand reaffirmed that she was not the slightest bit sorry or upset to be hurting me.

  I yanked my fingers out from under her and pushed myself to my feet, trying to ignore the tears that threatened to embarrass me. To my surprise, the gnawing in my chest erupted but it did not bring the usual promises of deadly pleasure. I looked around but did not see Bran. Somehow her abuse had ignited the flame and it was burning out of control.

  "Don't care what Bran thinks anymore?" I muttered as I straightened.

  "About me?" She asked sweetly. "I didn't do anything." Turning to Amanda, she added, "You saw it. She tripped on her own feet."

  I shook my head as I walked by her. I considered forgetting about going to my locker and just heading straight for the cafeteria but I needed to wait. I needed to look unphased before I saw Bran or he would lose it so I walked to my locker.

  As I stayed near Samantha and Amanda, something came over me. I couldn't stay silent this time. I had no idea what possessed me except that the burning inside me was growing more intense. "You really are a bimbo if you think he'd ever believe that," I said.

  "What did you just say to me?" Her voice was har
sh anger; any pleasantry, no matter how fake, had vanished.

  Shut up. Just walk away. I didn't. "You heard me," I said to my locker door. "You're the only one in this school dumb enough to think these games are cool or that you'd ever have a chance with him. You're not good enough for him."

  She grabbed my shoulder and spun me around to face her. My fists clenched but I otherwise didn't react. "And you are?" She demanded.

  I looked her right in the eyes. "He thinks I am."

  Her face was turning red. That was the problem with fair skin; it did little to hide emotional outbursts. I knew that well enough myself.

  "You're just self-righteous trash," she spat at me. "The poor bastard of a woman too stupid to use birth control."

  She had said worse to me before and I had taken it and walked away in silent tears in search of Michael or a bathroom refuge. Today, the inferno inside demanded action. I did not choose it. Logic dictated she didn't matter. The flames demanded a sacrifice and the acrid smoke that billowed off them was clouding my eyes.

  "At least my mother could get a man all on her own and didn't have to use tricks and games," I shot back, wanting to hurt her with so much more than words.

  "Only because she's a two-bit whore!" Samantha yelled.

  I smirked. "Double your rate, then. Jealous?"

  She lifted her hand and slapped me across the face. Silence filled the hall around us and the flames were set loose. They roared down my arm and into my hand. I felt my knuckles sink into the flesh of her cheek. Her face contorted in slow motion before my eyes. The sight of it should have shocked me into stopping, but I could already feel my other fist moving towards her gut.

  It did not make contact. Before it could, a rock encased my wrist and held it still. I looked down to see a large hand holding me. I only registered that my goal was being hindered. Samantha had made me suffer for years. She had been wretched and never once had I given her what she deserved. I tried to shake off the hand. When that didn't work, I reached for her hair with my other but then that hand too was restrained. I was vaguely aware of a large body at my back. I let out a guttural scream as I tried to throw my body away from the one holding me.

  "Dove," he whispered in my ear. "Dove, stop."

  I wanted to scream at Bran to let me go but his calm voice had broken through the inferno. It quenched it back into the gnawing that yearned for him more than it yearned for revenge on this pathetic girl.

  As the smoke from the flames cleared from my eyes, I blinked down at Samantha, who had collapsed against Amanda and several other students who had come to her aid. I looked around for salvation as I comprehended what I had done. I was terrified vermin and there were too many witnesses for me to hide.

  Michael was standing only feet away from Bran. His eyes were wide; his mouth slack. I pleaded with him with my eyes. I did not know what I was pleading for. Help? Forgiveness? I deserved neither.

  "What exactly happened here?" A male voice bellowed over the commotion.

  The gathered crowd parted to let Alistair through. He looked at Samantha and then at me, the wild girl who was being restrained. Our eyes locked and in that moment I was gutted.

  He was disappointed in me. I had never felt so horrified to have disappointed anyone, not even my own mother. I wanted to grovel at his feet and beg for his forgiveness. I looked away. My feet held the only direction that lacked judgemental eyes. After everything he had done, why did I have to care what he thought of me?

  Amanda launched into a retelling of what had happened, conveniently leaving out the bullying that had provoked me or that Samantha had slapped me. I had no will to correct her though I heard some students elaborate. Amanda glared at those who spoke up. I didn't care. There was no excuse for what I had done and I was quite sure school administration would see it that way too.

  "Lucina," Alistair said. "We're going to the office. Now."

  Bran did not release his hold on me. In fact, his grip on my wrists tightened. "I'm fine," I insisted. He still did not release me.

  Alistair was stern. "Bran, let go of her."

  "I'll come too," Bran insisted.

  I looked up to see Alistair's reaction to the insubordination. He raised an eyebrow. "While I appreciate your concern, your presence is not necessary." There was a threat in his voice and yet Bran did not let go.

  "Please, Bran," I whispered. "I'm already in enough trouble."

  He let me go. I glanced back at him but his eyes were unblinkingly focused upon Alistair. I walked to my gallows.

  When the crowds were behind us, Alistair's shoulders relaxed and his face softened. Despite his apparent ease, he said, "Do I have a trouble maker on my hands?"

  I didn't know what to say so I stared at my feet. Any other day and the answer would easily have been a no but I had no right to claim such things now. He seemed to want to keep up the pretense of being a teacher and I let him. I was too sickened by my own behaviour to care.

  He sighed. "Let me rephrase," he said. "Do you get into trouble often?"

  I looked up at him. He wasn't looking at me. I couldn't read his face but his tone had been kindly conversational. "No," I said. "Never before." I could almost pretend he was just a normal person.

  He nodded. "You're look says as much. Trouble makers don't seem so defeated facing the consequences."

  "My mother is going to be so worried," I groaned.

  He shrugged. "Not much I can do about that," he said. "But if this really is your first time to the office, I'm sure they will be lenient."

  That was little comfort. My mother wouldn't be lenient. I would be locked in my room for the rest of my natural life; let out on a leash only to go to classes. This would gut her. What had I done? Why had I done it? The gnawing was finally silenced but only because the acidic dropping feeling in my gut had eclipsed it.

  "I'm sorry," I said quietly. I wasn't trying to make amends with him. I was trying to make amends with myself. It was wholly inadequate but what else could I say? It was the truth even if my feeble words did little to fix it.

  Instead of responding to my apology, he asked, "You've always been an innocent girl, I suspect. Prone to an aversion to violence even?"

  I blinked back at him. His accurate assessment told me we were venturing into the territory of our past. I looked over my shoulder. There was no sign of Bran or anyone else.

  He began rolling up his shirt sleeves to the elbow as he continued, "I also suspect this behaviour has come on rather suddenly and without much warning."

  I stayed silent.

  "Maybe the people you hang around are a bad influence," he reasoned.

  "No one in my life behaves that way," I countered. I swallowed hard. At least, Bran hadn't behaved that way in front of me recently.

  He turned his head and eyed me with a raised brow. He knew what I had been thinking. But Bran would never have told me to hit Samantha. No matter what extremes he was capable of, he was not a mindless killer. He was smart and controlled and he would never have sacrificed so much for someone so petty.

  Our footsteps echoed down the empty hall, reminding me of how vulnerable I was alone with him. He seemed unconcerned with me as we walked. I watched him for any sign he would deviate from the teacher act. He didn't. The only hint he was not who he now pretended was the edge of a tattoo that peeked out from under the edge of his sleeve every time he swung his arm with his step. I focused on it. He was not one of Morrigan's warriors. Why would he have a mark? I sped up to close the gap between us. Then I recognized the knotwork tail and the white and black inking. It looked the very same as Bran's dove.

  "Alistair... " I stopped myself even before he looked at me with surprise. This was not the time. I pressed my lips together but could not supress another quick glance at his arm.

  He followed my gaze. A smile spread across his lips as he looked at me again. He nodded. "The very same."

  The sign outside the main office was swiftly approaching. He said nothing else about the tattoo or my beh
aviour. In fact, he didn't speak directly to me again. He relayed what he had been told to the principal and was dismissed. He walked back down the corridor without giving me another glance.

  For those few moments, I had been distracted from my fate by pure shock. I needed to know where he had gotten it. Even Bran didn't know the history of his dove. But Ms. Patterson called my name and dragged me back to gut-clenching reality.

  She was wearing a purple suit with her trademark shoulder pads. Her office smelled of the remnants of scented candles and a computer fan that desperately needed a good clean.

  I barely registered what she was saying to me. Mostly she wanted to confirm the facts. I did not dispute what Alistair had told her. She lectured me on appropriate behaviour, which was mostly pointless as I had already given myself the same lecture inside my head.

  My heart dropped when she explained how I could be charged with assault given my age but given Samantha's role, she doubted any charges would be laid and I would be lucky for that. I wanted to shrink into nothing. One moment of losing control for reasons I couldn't even understand and I might have destroyed my entire life. Tears clouded my vision. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

  Ms. Patterson sighed heavily. It was an exhausted sigh, not one of impatience. I looked up. She was watching me but not with anger. She looked sad. "Lucina, why did you really do this? It isn't like you at all."

  I looked down at my lap where I was twisting my fingers together. "I don't know. I just got so angry and suddenly I was reacting. I don't know. I just don't understand it."

  "Is there anything else going on in your life? Problems at home maybe?"

  "Does it matter?" I muttered.

  She sighed again. "Not in terms of the consequences, no, but it still matters to me. You are one of our best students and I'd like to understand why such a student might be going awry, especially at such a crucial time in her high school career."

  I shook my head. "I don't know. She didn't do anything I haven't endured before."

  She raised a brow. "This has been an ongoing problem then?"

  I shrugged. "Years, but it doesn't matter. I screwed up."

  She nodded. "Yes, you did, but I think the fact that you are torturing yourself so much now proves you understand the situation." She turned to her computer and began typing. "Our minimum punishment for this sort of thing is a week's suspension," she explained. "I don't feel it is warranted in this case but it is policy. Try to take that week to put this behind you and come back to us refreshed and ready to finish the year like your old self. You wouldn't be the first student to crack under the pressure of senior year." She finished typing and turned back to face me. "Seeing that it is midday on Monday, I am willing to count the entire day towards your suspension and will expect to see you back in class and in full control of yourself next Monday morning. I will be calling your mother to come get you and inform her of the situation."

  I wanted to vomit but I nodded.

  She looked me right in the eye. "The unfortunate reality is that there will always be horrible people in our lives. Never give them the power to ruin your future."

  I nodded again.

  I waited outside the office for my mother to arrive. It would only take ten minutes for her to get to the school even if she hadn't been presentable when they called. That would be a long ten minutes.

  I had ruined absolutely everything. I had an assault on my permanent record. My mother would be gutted. I likely would be grounded so long I would never see Bran again. Michael would never let me forget it. I would live with that stupid moment for the rest of my life. I slid to the floor and put my head between my knees. I didn't need vomiting in the hallway added to my day.

  When I heard rushed footsteps, I took a breath and looked up. It had only been a minute or two, yet, there was my mother striding down the hall with her unkempt hair billowing behind her. She did not look angry. She looked as if I had just survived a car accident. Bran was with her and looked equally concerned.

  I stood to meet her and she threw her arms around me. "Bran told me everything," she said.

  I was confused. "The school didn't call you?"

  She shook her head. "If they tried, I wasn't there. Bran had already come to fetch me. He knew I would need to come down right away." She held me at arm's length to look at me. "What were you thinking?" She sounded more exasperated than angry. Was no one going to be angry with me? Alistair hadn't been. The principal hadn't been. Bran wasn't and now my mother wasn't. Was everyone crazy? I had punched a girl in the face and would have done much more if Bran hadn't stopped me.

  I shook my head, partly in disbelief at her reaction. "I wasn't."

  She looked at Bran. "Stay with her while I go speak to Ms. Patterson." He nodded and she slipped into the office.

  I did not look up. I just collapsed against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. I didn't deserve his warmth but I was too much of a coward to deny it. "I'm losing my mind," I groaned.

  "Nay, you just broke." His Scottish lilt was so comforting. I could fall asleep just listening to him whisper to me. His lush scent filled my nostrils and encased me fully. I finally felt safe after the whole ordeal.

  "What did you tell my mother?"

  "As much as I had figured out," he explained. "Samantha had been bullying you and you were pushed too far."

  "I lost my mind. That's what happened." I couldn't blame Samantha for this. Even the principal, who had been sympathetic, had said life would be full of people like her. If I couldn't keep myself under control, I'd end up in prison. My world was becoming worse than Wonderland.

  My mother came into the hall and hugged me again. "We're going home," she said. "And I don't want you to worry about school. Everything will be alright."

  Everyone seemed to think it was academics and bullying that pushed me too far. If that was all it took, I would have cracked years ago. I suspected it had more to do with the two immortals who had entered my life and there were no stress management techniques that could help me with that.