King Series Box Set Page 3

  “No, I didn’t need to listen to your mind,” I answered. “I could feel you from all the way over there. Plus, I know you. You’re already freaking, trying to figure out how to deal with this.”

  “I’m not freaking!” Her voice rose an octave. “You’ve got to understand, this is new territory for your dad and me. I know most girls your age have boyfriends, and it’s completely fine. But you—Tas, you know you’re different. You’re special. We have to take special care…”

  “I get that!” My voice rose too, despite my efforts to keep it even. “I understand. But I also know I need to have a life. And a life might include friends, and yes, even boyfriends. I don’t even really know Michael yet. Maybe he’s just a nice person who will turn out to be a good friend. But I won’t find out if I don’t—if you won’t trust me a little, give me a little space.”

  “Michael?” She was a bit calmer. “That’s his name? How old is he?”

  “Yes, Michael Sawyer. And he’s a senior.”

  “You got all that from a five minute conversation at his car?” She already suspected the answer.

  “No. I met him earlier in the day, and I ate lunch with him—and his friends.”

  My mother’s concern ratcheted up a couple of levels. “That sounds like someone interested in more than just being nice.”

  I blew out a breath between clenched teeth. “I told you, I don’t know yet. There was a girl giving me a hard time, and he kind of stood up for me. And then he asked if I wanted to sit with him at lunch, so I did. I liked not having to sit by myself for a change.”

  My mom winced. “Tasmyn, we don’t make these rules because we want you to be lonely. We make them to protect you.” We pulled into our driveway, and she carefully put the car into park, engaged the brake and fiddled with the keys. “We only have your interest at heart, you know that. It’s so hard to know whom we can trust. Daddy and I realize how difficult this is for you.”

  “I don’t think you really do,” I shot back. “I’ve been in seven schools in twelve years, and I’ve never had any friends. You always tell me how special I am, how I have to be careful. But I can’t live the rest of my life worrying about being taken advantage of. I just can’t. I need to be able to get to know people, to make some real friends. You and Daddy have each other. I have no one.”

  I jumped out of the car, grabbing my backpack and slamming the door. Tears were threatening, and I wasn’t going to break down out here. I held myself stiff as my mother unlocked the front door, and I followed her inside, going directly to my room.

  I threw my bags on the bed and then dropped down next to them, curling up with my head buried in the pillow. I had never been a dramatic teenager. My parents had gotten off pretty lightly when it came to adolescent angst. But right now, it felt as though all the injustices of the world were crashing down on me. Any other normal girl could talk to a boy in front of her mother without said parent envisioning doom. Why did I feel so guilty?

  I sulked in my room until my mother called me for dinner. At the table, the tension was painfully thick. My father broke the awkward silence about half way through the meal.

  “Your mother tells me you met someone today,” he began. “That must have been nice.”

  “It was a change, anyway,” I muttered.

  “Well, you’re a beautiful young lady. I’m only surprised this hasn’t happened before now.” I knew what this was. This was the praise that was supposed to make me feel good about myself before they lowered the boom of whatever came next.

  “But…?” I prompted.

  “But what?” My father was all innocence. “I was just commenting.”

  “Really?” I broke off a piece of meatloaf with my fork and toyed with it. “So you’d be okay with Michael driving me home from school?”

  My mother nearly choked on her green beans, and my father put down his knife with a deliberate clunk. They both gawked at me as though I’d grown a second head.

  “Driving you home? When?” My mother found her voice first.

  “I don’t know. He just mentioned that he could. Or would. Some time.” I was hedging.

  “Why would he do that?” my dad demanded.

  “I don’t know, maybe because I’m—what did you say? A beautiful young lady?” I bit back a smug smile.

  For a few minutes, the silence returned. My father took a bite of his roll, chewing slowly. I didn’t cheat and listen to him, but I couldn’t block his swirl of annoyance, worry and fear.

  When he did speak, his voice was serious.

  “Tasmyn, we have been given the job of protecting you, all your life. Not only because of your—your gift, but just because you are our child. No matter what the circumstance, we would be very cautious about entrusting your safety to someone we don’t really know.”

  “I understand that. But I also know that I’m seventeen years old, and I’ve never given you reason to believe that I’m anything less than trustworthy. We’re talking a drive from the school to here, less than ten minutes. I’d probably be safer that way than walking home, which was what I’d been planning to do, now that I know the way.”

  Neither of them answered me immediately. I knew they were struggling, and in some ways, I felt guilty for being the cause of their distress. I inadvertently picked up a few phrases floating in their heads… she’s still so young, she doesn’t know… how do we know if this boy can be trusted… But still I stayed stubbornly quiet, my eyes glued to the table.

  Finally, my mother spoke. “So, you really think it’s safe for you to ride to school with someone you’ve known—what, a day? Not even?”

  I shrugged. “It’s not like he’s asked me out on a date. He just offered me a ride. I’d like to know I could say yes without you guys freaking out or getting mad.”

  My father scowled at me. “I don’t think either of us has freaked out. We’ve expressed our reservations to you. If I’m going to be honest, Tasmyn, I’ll admit that I’d be more comfortable with you not getting involved with this boy. You might think it’ll all work out, but it’s going to be hard for you to be his friend without giving away your—what you can do.”

  “I can do it. I’ve lived with this my whole life. I think I can handle it.”

  My mother sighed heavily, and my father shook his head. “Tas, obviously your mom and I have serious reservations about this whole idea. But we do trust you. If you want to ride home with this—what’s his name? Mike?”

  “Michael,” I answered, almost giddy that they were going to give in.

  “Okay, Michael. If you feel that it’s safe for you to ride home with him, I guess it’s all right. But you need to take things really slow, understand? Be very, very careful.”

  “I will. I promise.” They both looked so doubtful that I added, “I can do this. I know I can.”

  “I’m a little worried.”

  We were driving to school, and my mother broke the silence. I was preoccupied with thoughts of the coming day, and I glanced up at her in surprise.

  “About what?” I wondered if she had picked up more about yesterday than I had shared. The thing about my particular talent is that sometimes, I don’t really buy that others cannot hear my thoughts. There have been many, many times that I was sure my mom was tapping into my mind, even though she claimed it was only mother’s intuition.

  “You didn’t say anything about what everyone was wearing yesterday. That’s not like you.”

  “Oh.” Relieved, I thought about the fashion scene at school. “Well, you know, it wasn’t that big a deal. Most girls were wearing shorts or cropped pants, jeans and that kind of stuff. I saw a couple of cute little sundresses. I think I’ll be okay with the summer clothes I have for now, although I might need a few shirts and maybe some jackets. The classrooms can get kind of cool, with the air conditioning.”

  “All right. Should we plan a shopping trip this weekend then?” She turned onto the main street of town and glanced at me expectantly.

  “Um… sure,
I think that sounds good, as long as I don’t have too much homework.”

  My mom nodded. “Okay.”

  I could feel her reaching out to me tentatively, but I continued to stare out my window.

  “Are you still upset because I wouldn’t let you walk to school today?”

  I shrugged. “No. It’s okay.”

  “You know it’s not that I don’t trust you. I just—”

  “—want to keep me safe. I know.”

  She sighed then and all the stress I’d caused her in the last twenty-four hours was heavy in that one breath.

  “It’s not just from teenage boys that I want to protect you. You’re not used to Florida yet. There are alligators in the lakes, and water moccasins, too—”

  Now I did turn from the window. “Are you serious? In every lake?” We just happened to be driving by a park that bordered an expanse of crystal blue water.

  “Yep. Your dad told me that any standing water in this state can potentially have gators in it—even ditches.”

  I shuddered. Maybe having my mom drive me to school wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  We pulled into the school parking lot, and I scooted out with a quick wave to my mother. I hated when things were tense between my parents and me; it made me feel off balance and cranky, probably because it happened so rarely.

  I wandered toward the school building. It was still a little early, but I figured that I could find a bench and do some extra reading. There were a few other kids standing at lockers, but thankfully, their thought noise was muted this morning. I could easily handle blocking small numbers.

  Although I didn’t even admit it to myself, I was keeping my eyes—and my mind—open for Michael. I had lay in bed the night before, envisioning different scenarios for today, imagining how I could let him know that I was free to accept a ride home from school. I didn’t want to be too pushy; what if he didn’t really mean it? What if he was just trying to be nice to me because I was new? What if he totally ignored me today? I had to be cool and not expect anything.

  By the time I got to my locker, I had convinced myself that I probably wouldn’t even see Michael today. He had felt sorry for me yesterday after my run-in with Nell Massler. He was a senior, he already had a group of friends, and there was no good reason in the world for him to be interested in me.

  At my locker, I swapped out books, taking what I needed for morning classes. My speech notebook was caught on something in the back, and I stuck my whole head in the locker, trying to pull it loose.

  “Hi. You trying to climb in there?”

  I jerked my head out, banging it against the top of the locker in the process. Michael was leaning against the wall, looking at me speculatively.

  “Ouch.” I rubbed the top of my head, still seeing stars.

  “You didn’t knock anything loose, did you? Should I get the nurse?”

  Someone thought he was a comedian, I thought crossly. Hitting my head always made me grumpy.

  “I think I’ll live. You just startled me. My notebook is stuck back there, between the side and the back.” Some part of my mind was noting in astonishment that this unbelievably attractive boy was paying attention to me—again—but somehow I was able to speak.

  Michael leaned into the locker, and I moved out of the way. He glanced back and smiled full on at me. I felt my legs melting and wondered how I was still upright.

  “Allow me.” With a theatrical flourish, he reached in and pulled out my notebook, intact and unharmed, and presented it to me triumphantly.

  This was the goofiest behavior I had ever seen, so why on earth was I ready to swoon at his feet?

  “Thanks.” I took the notebook and tucked it between my French and Chem books and decided to play along a little. I glanced up at him from under my lashes and smiled. “My hero.”

  I heard him suck in breath. “Jeez, you’ve got a killer smile. Wow. Listen, do me a favor and don’t smile today, okay?”

  I felt a little dizzy. “Why not?”

  “Just a request. No smiling unless you’re with me. I really don’t want to have to fight off other guys. I could, of course—” he flashed a smug, self-assured look, “—but I’d rather not.”

  I closed my locker and stood there just looking at him.

  “What?” he asked, in mock bewilderment.

  “I just—listen, you don’t need to worry about it. Guys falling all over me have never been a problem, and I don’t think it’s going to start today. And why do you care anyway? Are you the King High School Welcome Wagon?” I didn’t want to be rude or unfriendly, but I was confused. No one ever paid this much attention to me.

  I shouldn’t have worried about being unfriendly. Michael didn’t look fazed at all. He smiled at me again, and his eyes never left my face.

  “I don’t think I believe you about guys not paying attention. And I care because—” he hesitated and for the first time seemed a little unsure of himself. “I don’t know that I can explain it right now. You might think I’m crazy.”

  I raised my eyebrows and just shot him a silent look.

  “Oh, too late, huh?” His humor and self-confidence were back. “Let’s just say I am the Welcome Wagon—your own personal Welcome Wagon. And part of my duties are to make sure you eat lunch with me again today.”

  I flushed. While I wanted to eat lunch with him almost more than I wanted my next breath, I didn’t need a pity date, and I had to be sure he wasn’t asking me out of some strange sense of obligation. But as I opened my mouth to say as much, Michael put out his hand to stop me.

  “For me, okay? I’m not on some do-gooding trip. This is purely selfish.” He gave me a mock glare. “Indulge me. Please.”

  I didn’t know what to say, so I just nodded. “I’ve got to get to class.”

  “Where are you going? What’s your first class?”

  “French. Building 2.”

  He made a face. “I’ve got European History in a satellite classroom. Opposite direction, and even I can’t move that fast in time. So—” he began walking backwards away from me, “—see you at lunch. I’ll meet you outside the door to the cafeteria.”

  Still somewhat speechless, I nodded again, stood for a puzzled moment watching him go, then turned toward French class.

  I was preoccupied during French, which was not a good thing. It was a small class and thus impossible to be inconspicuous. Since it was my second day, I was still trying to make a good impression on the teacher. I managed to fake it until she asked me to orally translate a passage from English into French, and I realized that I had no idea where we were in the book. I flushed in embarrassment when the teacher sighed her long-suffering impatience.

  But I couldn’t help it. Although I wanted to concentrate, my mind kept wandering to Michael and our exchange this morning. And then I would think about lunch, and my heart beat just a little faster. I created a thousand scenes in my head, each one more improbable than the last.

  Fortunately, my daydreams kept me from worrying about Chemistry. I didn’t have time to dread it until I walked through the door and saw Nell.

  Actually, I didn’t see her before I heard and felt her. There are people whose minds are so loud and strong that blocking them is very difficult. Nell was clearly one of those people.

  She was sitting in the same spot she had occupied the day before, talking to the same three girls. And she was not thinking very pleasant thoughts about any of them.

  Liza is so stupid, she makes me want to gouge out my own eyes. Will she never shut up? On and on and on… better than Casey who thinks she knows everything.

  I knew the minute she spotted me, as I lingered in the doorway. Her animosity and fury surged, and her mind narrowed to a single focus.

  HER.

  My throat tightened. The hatred struck me like a blow to my head, and I struggled not to recoil. Instead I gripped my books and walked to my seat as steadily as I could manage.

  Liza glanced at me curiously and shifted her noteboo
k away from my side of the table. Casey stopped talking as she realized that Nell was completely ignoring her.

  “What are you doing here?” Nell asked, her voice tight with intensity.

  I swallowed and tried for an off-hand tone. “This is where I sit. Ms. Lacusta assigned me this seat yesterday. Don’t you remember?”

  Sense of humor clearly wasn’t one of Nell’s strong points. “What are you doing in this class? I thought you were transferring out.”

  “No, you told me I should. I told you I need this class.” A few other girls were beginning to turn and stare at us, and I lowered my voice. “I don’t know what the problem is here, Nell. If I’ve done something to bother you, I’m sure we can—”

  “I don’t want you here. I want you gone.” Nell was losing what little control she’d had. “You don’t belong. I told you—”

  “Nell!” Ms. Lacusta had entered without either of us hearing, and she swept down on us, adding her own anger to the cacophony of fury that was nearly choking me. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  Nell’s eyes darted from me to the teacher, and I felt her momentary indecision. “Just clarifying a few things for the new girl,” she said finally.

  “It did not sound like clarification,” Ms. Lacusta remarked. She pinned Nell with a steely glare for a moment. None of us moved until she added, “I don’t have time for this now, Nell. We have a lab today. I will see you after school, and we can discuss whatever might be troubling you.” It was clearly a command, and Nell’s face flamed.

  I mentally rolled my eyes. I understood that Ms. Lacusta was probably trying to help me, but getting Nell in trouble was not going to make her the president of my fan club.

  There was a swell of whispering that ended abruptly when Ms. Lacusta stood at the front of the room, facing the class. Unlike most teachers, it seemed that she did not need to call for attention or even clear her throat for silence. Her eyes roamed over all of us, missing nothing. When she did speak, I detected again that musical quality that her accent gave her voice.

  “Today’s lab is a relatively simple one. We will be working on identifying an unknown solution. This solution, which we will refer to as Solution X, contains a cation belonging to the alkaline-earth family and an anion belonging to the halogen family. By observing the ionic reactions between solutions of each of the cations with solutions of selected anions, you will be able to compare Solution X’s reactions with the same anions.”