Intertwined
“Come on.” Tucker wound an arm around her waist and led her forward. He didn’t seem to notice her renewed trembling.
There, resting on the bike rails, was Tucker’s group. Crew. Whatever. Mary Ann knew them, of course, but she rarely hung out with them. They didn’t approve of her, something they made clear by ignoring her every time she approached. Each of them played football, though she couldn’t have named their positions to save her life.
The boys slapped each other’s hands in greeting. And yes, they pretended that she wasn’t there. Tucker never seemed to notice the disrespect and she never said anything. She wasn’t sure how he’d react—whether he’d side with her or his friends—and it simply wasn’t worth her time to worry about it.
“Did you hear?” Shane Weston, the school’s resident prankster, grinned and hopped to his feet, fairly bursting with the need to share.
Nate Dowling rubbed his hands together. “It’s our lucky day.”
“Let me tell, Dow,” Shane growled.
Nate held his hands up, palms out, brow raised impatiently.
Shane’s grin returned. “Fresh meat,” he said. “Two witnesses, Michelle and Shonna, saw Principal White greet them.”
Huh? Mary Ann gazed up at Tucker.
He gave a grin of his own as he and Shane nodded at each other in understanding.
“New kids,” Nate elaborated. “Two of ‘em.”
While they laughed about all the ways to initiate the newcomers properly, the poor kids, Mary Ann wandered to her first class. Mr. Klein lectured on all the things that would be in their test, but for the first time that year, she had trouble forcing herself to concentrate. She’d caught several whispered conversations on her trek through the halls.
Both new kids were juniors, like her, and both were male. One was tall with dark hair and black eyes, but no one had spoken to him. He’d holed up in the guidance offices. Was it … could it be … Aden? Those eyes …
The other was black, gorgeous, with green eyes—like her wolf?—and a hard but quiet demeanor.
Wait. Had she really just compared a human’s eyes to a wolf’s? The thought made her laugh.
“Ms. Gray?” the teacher said reprovingly.
Everyone in the classroom turned to peer at her.
Heat flooded her cheeks. “Sorry, Mr. Klein. You may continue.”
That earned several chuckles from the students and a glare from the head of the class.
Throughout the rest of the day, she watched for new faces. It wasn’t until after lunch that she found one. Shannon Ross was in her history class; she spotted him from the door. He was as beautiful as everyone had said, tall with eyes of light green—yep, just like the wolf—and just as quiet.
Mary Ann had lived in Crossroads for a long time now, but could sympathize with being new, knowing no one. He’d taken a desk in back and she slid into the one next to him. Wouldn’t hurt to warn him about Tucker and crew, either.
“Hi,” she said. Kids had been gossiping about him all day. Currently, the favorite story was that he was one of the troublemakers who lived at the D and M Ranch owned by Dan Reeves. Oh, and he’d killed both his parents. By this time tomorrow, he would have killed a sister and brother, too, she was sure.
Mary Ann had seen Dan around town and had heard the stories about him. Supposedly, his parents had died young and he’d lived with his grandparents. He’d been wild and in constant trouble with the law, yet he’d also been magic on the football field and managed to go pro. Only a few years in, though, he’d hurt his back and had to quit, at which point he’d decided to open his home to boys as troubled as he’d once been. Still. Most of the people in Crossroads still worshipped him—even though they disapproved of who he allowed to live with him.
Shannon flicked her a nervous glance. “Hi.”
“I’m Mary Ann Gray. If you need anything, I—”
“I—I—I won’t need anything,” he rushed out. A clear dismissal.
“Oh. Okay.” Wow, that stung. “Just … maybe stay away from the football players. They like to torture the new kids. Their way of welcoming them, I guess.” Her cheeks were hot for the second time that day as she claimed her rightful seat. The rest of the class filed inside just as the bell rang.
Before Mr. Thompson discussed the age of imperialism, he had Shannon stand at the front of the class and tell everyone a little about himself, an exercise he stuttered his way through, kids laughing the entire time. Mary Ann lost the threads of her own humiliation. No wonder he’d sent her away. He didn’t like conversing with people. It embarrassed him.
She smiled at him as he made his way back to his seat, but he didn’t see. He kept his eyes fixed on the painted concrete at his feet.
They shared their next class, too. Computer science. They sat close to each other, but she didn’t try and talk to him. Not again, not yet. He’d probably just reject her again.
Tucker was in the class, as well. He’d sat next to Mary Ann until last week, when Ms. Goodwin had moved him for talking.
“Hey, Tuck,” Shane whispered from across the room.
Tucker looked. So did Mary Ann and a few others in the room. Not Shannon, though. As he had in the last class, he kept his head down.
Shane motioned toward Shannon with a tilt of his chin. Do something, he mouthed.
Mary Ann clutched the edge of her desk. “Don’t,” she said. “Please.”
“Miss Gray,” the teacher admonished. “That’s enough from you.”
“I’m sorry,” she managed to choke out. She’d gone nearly all month without getting in trouble, yet she’d been reprimanded twice in one day.
Tucker mouthed, “Don’t worry” and raised his hand, drawing attention away from her.
Ms. Goodwin sighed. “Yes, Mr. Harbor.”
“Can I go to the bathroom?”
“I don’t know. Can you?”
He glowered. “May I?”
“Fine. But do not loiter or you’ll find yourself in detention tomorrow.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Tucker stood. He walked from the room and shut the door, and Mary Ann’s shoulders hunched in relief. Scene avoided.
Only, Tucker never veered from the door.
He peered through its small, square window at Shane. Shane held out his hands and Tucker nodded.
Shane stood, and he was suddenly clutching a slithering, hissing snake. Thin, with yellow and green scales and a bright red head. A lump of fear knotted Mary Ann’s throat, cutting off her gasp. Dear God. Where had it come from? How had it appeared seemingly out of thin air?
Shane glanced at Ms. Goodwin to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. She wasn’t, too lost in showing the twins, Brittany and Brianna Buchannan, how to create a password for their pages. Grinning, he tossed the snake at Shannon. It landed on his shoulder, then fell onto his thighs with a hiss.
Shannon glanced down. He jolted to his feet with a scream, patting down his body with frantic hands. The snake hit the ground and slithered to the wall, disappearing beyond the stucco.
Everyone looked at him and laughed.
“How dare you disrupt my class, young man!”
“B-but th-the s-s-snake.”
Ms. Goodwin anchored her hands on her padded hips. “What are you talking about? There is no snake. You may be new, but one thing you need to know. I will not tolerate lies.”
Panting, Shannon swept his eyes across the floor. Mary Ann followed his gaze. There was no hole, no way the snake could have escaped, yet it was gone. She returned her attention to Tucker, who was still at the door. He and Shane were smiling at each other, beaming at a job well done.
SIX
“YOU … HELPED ME.” Aden emerged from the school building to wait outside for Shannon—knowing the dreg may or may not want to walk home with him but willing to chance it. Good as he felt, he might have waited for the devil himself. Perhaps he’d even see Mary Ann in the crowd.
The last class of the day hadn’t yet let out, so for now he was alone. He pressed against the red brick at the side of the structure, partially hidden by shadows.
“Why?” he asked.
You want to attend this school, Eve said, and we want you to be happy. Of course we helped you.
“But you hate Mary Ann.”
I don’t, she said. Like you, I want to spend more time with her. She’s a mystery I’m determined to solve.
Well, I do hate her, Caleb said. Girl freaking shoves me into that black hole with barbed wire on the sides. But you like her, and I love you. The last was spoken in a grumble.
“I love you guys, too.”
He’d thought they would fight him every step of the way, screaming while he tried to take the tests, distracting him. Instead, they’d done something they’d never done before: remained quiet for an extended period of time. He’d read without interruption, solved equations without enduring commentary about how he was doing it wrong, and drew no notice from those around him because he was seemingly talking to himself.
He’d more than passed. He’d excelled.
He was smiling as a girl walked past him, her gaze nearly burning a hole in his forehead. She had the same glittery skin the woman at the supercenter had had, and Aden found himself turning away just in case she wanted to talk. And then talk some more. Thankfully, she kept moving.
And who knows, Elijah said on a sigh. Maybe Mary Ann can help us get out of here and into bodies of our own.
What a difference! Only last week Elijah had experienced that “bad feeling.” Aden wanted to ask what had changed, but didn’t, too afraid the answer might sway his companions yet again.
A bell sounded.
I’m proud of you, my man, Julian said. You’re officially a student now. How’s it feel?
Behind him, footsteps echoed. Even from here, he could hear the slam of lockers and the murmur of voices.
“Feels great. But, uh, maybe we could try the quiet thing more often,” Aden suggested.
All four laughed as if he’d just told a joke about Caleb getting hot.
He stepped into the sunlight, watching the front door. Kids spilled out in a rush.
Julian was the first to calm. You, at least, can move around when you’re bored. We’re stuck. Talking is the only thing we can do. Our only distraction.
“H-hey,” a familiar voice said from behind him.
Aden whipped around, not liking having someone at his back. Shannon stood there, peering at the parking lot rather than Aden. Where had he come from and how had Aden missed him? Then he spied other kids coming out of other doors and realized there was more than one exit.
“Hey,” he replied. Bummer. No way he could watch every door for Mary Ann.
“L-listen,” Shannon said. There was a hard gleam in his eyes. Rough first day? “I know w-we don’t like each other and y-you’ve got no reason to trust m-me, but we’ve only g-got each other h-here. And, well, if you’ll guard m-my back, I’ll g-guard yours.”
His eyes widened with shock.
“So, truce?”
Seriously? He didn’t know if a truce would mean they’d also look out for each other at the ranch, too, but he didn’t care. “Truce,” he said. Honestly, could this day get any better?
“Shannon, you forgot your syllabus.”
Aden recognized the lilting female voice, but it was the surge of needle-sharp wind over his skin, the moans—and then the silence—that told him exactly who approached. Mary Ann. The day could get much better, it seemed.
His gaze quickly found her. Her arm was extended, a piece of paper clutched between her fingers.
Shannon turned. His shoulders immediately hunched, as if he wanted to hide inside himself.
Aden’s heart began slamming against his ribs. Finally. He was with her again.
The sun gleamed behind her, framing her in gold. She tripped over her own feet when she spotted him, her skin leaching of color. Thankfully, she didn’t hit the ground, just slowed her step and lowered her arm.
“Aden?”
“Hello, Mary Ann.” The urge to hug her returned. So did the urge to run. Caleb would have said she was heaven and hell wrapped in the same pretty package. A friend and a foe. Both a hunter and the prey.
Wary, she stopped in front of him. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”
Had she preferred it that way? Her neutral tone gave nothing away. “As of today, I’m a student here.”
“That’s wonder—Your eyes,” she said, blinking up at him. “They’re blue. But I thought they were black. Or rather, lots of colors then black. Not one solid color.”
So. She’d noticed the way they changed each time one of the souls spoke. He fused his top and bottom lashes, blocking the color from her view. “They change with what I wear,” he lied. A lie he used often.
“Oh,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced.
How could he ever have mistaken her for his brunette? he wondered. Even momentarily? Yes, they both had dark hair and yes, both were pretty, but up close, he could see that Mary Ann was more planes and angles; Vision Girl was more curved. Mary Ann even had a few freckles scattered over her nose, while Vision Girl had none.
“I—I should g-go,” Shannon said to him, acting as if Mary Ann weren’t present.
Mary Ann hugged the paper she held to her chest. Her gaze darted between them. “You two know each other?”
Both he and Shannon nodded.
“Oh.” Fear sparked in her eyes, and she backed up a step.
Was she frightened of him? Why? She hadn’t seemed afraid of him at the coffeehouse.
“You live with … Dan Reeves?” she asked.
Ah. Now he understood. She knew about the ranch, feared the boys inside … and what they’d done to be sent there. He didn’t want to lie to her—again—this girl he so badly wanted to befriend, but he didn’t want to confirm her fears, either. So he ignored the question. “My official first day here is tomorrow. Maybe we have a few classes together.” Hopefully.
“S-see you at the h-house, Aden,” Shannon said, clearly done waiting. He ripped the paper from Mary Ann’s hands.
She gasped as Aden said his goodbyes. “See you, Shannon.”
Shannon walked away without another word.
Aden and Mary Ann stood in silence for several seconds, kids rushing around them, brushing their shoulders, eager to reach the buses or their rides.
“He’s shy,” Aden said to excuse the dreg.
“I noticed.” Mary Ann squared her shoulders and her pretty features glazed with determination. “Look, I’ve felt bad for the past week about the way I treated you at Holy Grounds. I’ve wanted to apologize over and over again.”
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” he assured her. She might have been in a hurry to ditch him that day, but she hadn’t called him a freak or made him feel like one. In his world, that was, like, the royal treatment.
“I do,” she insisted. “I was rude. I would have called, but I didn’t have your number.”
“Seriously, no worries. I would have called you eventually.” He stared down at his feet, realized what he was doing, and forced himself to straighten. “I just, well, I was sick. I spent six days in bed.”
Sympathy softened the angle of her mouth. “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” He smiled over at her. This was the longest conversation he’d ever had with someone. Well, without being interrupted by his companions or losing track of what was being said. He never wanted it to end. “Maybe we could meet here tomorrow and you could show me around.”
Mary Ann hooked a lock of hair behind her ear, cheeks suddenly blooming with red. “I, uh, well …”
Had he pushed for too much too soon? Had he made her uncomfortable again? Suddenly, he hated not being able to talk to Eve. He needed advice. Needed to know the best way to befriend a girl, the right things to say.
In the end, he opted for the truth. “I’m not trying to score or anything, I swear. Besides Shannon, you’re the only person I know at this school and I could really use a friend.”
“A friend.” She chewed on her bottom lip.
“Only a friend,” he said, and he meant it. Vision Girl was the only one he was looking to date.
The chewing continued as she shifted from one foot to the other. “I have to tell you something, but I’m afraid it will hurt your feelings. And you may not want to be my friend once you know.”
That sounded bad. Really bad. His stomach twisted into a thousand knots. “Tell me anyway. Please.” He could take it. Whatever it was. Maybe.
“I feel … strange when I’m with you.” The color returned to her cheeks. “God, that sounds even worse out loud.”
He wondered … was it possible? Did she feel the wind and the sickness too? “Strange how?”
“I don’t know. Like I’m being pummeled by a freak wind and my skin is crawling, and I know that’s a horrible thing to say, and I’m so sorry. I really am. But then when that sensation finally fades, I have the weirdest desire to first hug you like you’re my brother or something and then—”
“Run,” he finished for her. It was possible. They had the same reaction to each other.
Her eyes widened. “Yes!”
“I feel the same way.”
“You do?” she asked, relief and confusion giving way to insult. Her mouth curled into the cutest grimace.
He nodded, unable to stop his grin.
“What do you think it means?”
Both attracted and repelled, he thought. Like the magnets he’d played with as a child. One side possessed a positive pole. One side possessed a negative pole. When two different sides were pressed together, they bonded. When two like sides were pressed together, they created pressure, repelling each other. Were they like magnets?
And if so, did that mean she was like him? Or his opposite?
He studied her more intently. Did she know anything about the supernatural? If she didn’t, and he started babbling about raising the dead and trapped souls, she would call him a freak. He would ruin his chances with her.
“I have to get home,” he said, opting for escape. Hopefully, he would have figured this out by morning. “I’m on curfew, but I would love to talk to you tomorrow and—”
“Mary Ann,” a boy suddenly called. Footsteps clomped, then an arm was wrapping around her waist. The owner of that arm was wide and as solid as a boulder. “Who you talking to, babe?”
She closed her eyes for a moment and pushed out a firm breath. “Tucker, this is Aden. One of the new students and my … friend. Aden, this is Tucker. My boyfriend.”
Friend. She’d called Aden a friend. He couldn’t stop himself from smiling. “Nice to meet you, Tucker.”
Tucker’s iron-gray gaze flicked to Aden’s shirt and the insulting words scribbled there. He chuckled. “Cute.”
Aden lost his grin. He’d been flying so high all day—passing tests, making truces and friends—he’d forgotten about the T-shirt. “Thanks.”
“Why don’t you beat feet and join your friend S-Stutter.” It was a command, not a question. “Mary Ann and I have things to discuss.”
Message received. He and Tucker would not be friends. That was fine with him. Only person he cared about right now was Mary Ann. Well, and Vision Girl, but she wasn’t here. Where was she? What was she doing?
“See you around, Mary Ann,” he said.
She smiled, and it was warm and genuine. “I’ll meet you here in the morning and show you around.”
A muscle ticked under Tucker’s eye. “I’m sure he’s busy. Isn’t that right, Crazy?”
Aden knew his next words would define the type of hate-filled relationship he and Tucker would have. If he agreed, Tucker would feel superior, assume Aden was properly intimidated and taunt him for his weakness. If he didn’t, Tucker would view him as a competitor for Mary Ann’s attention and attack every chance he got.
He couldn’t afford another enemy, but he raised his chin, refusing to back down. “I’m not busy at all. I’ll see you in the morning, Mary Ann.” He nodded to them both and ambled away as if he hadn’t a care.
MARY ANN WALKED TUCKER to the football field for practice, calmly but firmly explaining that calling people names like “Crazy” and “Stutter” was how they developed complexes and why they later needed therapy.
“You should thank me for the future business, since you want to be a shrink,” he said, rounding on her.
She was so shocked by his response, she stood with her mouth hanging open. He’d never talked to her so sarcastically.
His eyes narrowed. “Well, I’m waiting.”
“Waiting for what?”
“First, for that thank-you I mentioned. Then you need to tell me you won’t see that guy again. I don’t like him and I don’t like the way he was looking at you. And if he ever does it again, I will knock his teeth right out of his mouth.”
The menace radiating off him was like needle pricks in her skin. She actually found herself backing up. What was wrong with him? Why was he acting this way? “You’ll stay away from him, Tucker. Do you hear me? I don’t want you hurting him. And just so you know, I’ll be friends with whoever I want. If you don’t like it, you can … we can … “
“You are not breaking up with me,” he growled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I won’t allow it.”
That hadn’t been on her mind, but she suddenly found herself contemplating the idea. The Tucker standing in front of her was not the Tucker she knew. This Tucker wasn’t making her feel pretty or special; this Tucker, with his scowl and his threats, was alarming her.
This was the Tucker who had somehow helped throw a snake at Shannon—which she still needed to question him about. This was someone who had laughed at another person’s fear. This was a Tucker she didn’t like.
“You can’t stop me if that’s what I decide,” she said.
To her surprise, his expression immediately softened. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have butted in like that. I just want you safe. Can you blame me for that?” Oh, so gently, he reached out and traced a fingertip along her cheek.
She moved away from his touch. “Look, I—” she began, but one of the football players called for his help.
Oblivious to the tension still rolling through her, Tucker kissed the cheek he’d just caressed. “We’ll talk tomorrow, all right?” He didn’t wait for her reply but rushed off.
Reeling, she turned and headed toward the parking lot. What was she going to do with that boy? The way he’d treated Shannon and then Aden, and then callously excused his behavior … the way he’d expected her to thank him … she ground her teeth together. Yeah, he’d apologized. But had he meant it?
Penny’s Mustang whipped around the corner just as Mary Ann stepped from the curb. There went her ride. She could call her dad and wait for him to come get her. She could walk home alone—and perhaps be a tasty bit of wolf bait—or she could chase Aden down.
“Aden,” she called as she rushed forward. She couldn’t see him, but she knew he couldn’t have gotten far.
The sleek black wolf, taller than she remembered, bigger than she remembered, jumped out in front of her the moment she passed the line of trees that blocked off the school. She screamed, hand fluttering over her heart.
He gave an irritated growl, his green eyes bright. Settle down. I won’t hurt you.
The word yet hung in the air, unsaid but palpable.
Though the voice came from in front of her, she whipped around, expecting to see someone behind her. But no, she and the wolf were alone. “Who said that?” The words trembled from her.
As I happen to be the only one around, I think you’re safe in assuming that I did.
This time, the words came from behind her. Once more, she faced the wolf. No one was standing beside him. “This isn’t funny,” she said, a little more substance to the words now. Her gaze tripped left, right. Breath sawed in and out of her throat. Hot. Too hot, burning. “Who’s there?”
I love being ignored, I really do. Look, I’m big, I’m black. I’m right in front of you.
She scanned the bright emerald foliage around her. There was no sign of life. “I told you. This isn’t funny.”