Wicked Power Page 10

  Most of the class is teetering on sleep when Wyatt and Holly finally shuffle up to the front of the classroom. When everyone realizes whose turn it is, heads pop up off desks and earbuds are swiped out of ears in preparation. Everyone can already see the scowl on Holly’s face and the rolling of Wyatt’s eyes as they take their places. When Mr. Littleton paired up the self-proclaimed future president with the rodeo rider for this project at the beginning of the semester, we all knew it was going to be a disaster. Everyone has been looking forward to this moment for months.

  With two dozen pairs of eyes glued to them, Wyatt and Holly stand a good five feet away from each other. Holly snaps her script up in front of her face, no doubt her need to speak every syllable perfectly outweighing her knowledge that she had the script memorized months ago. Wyatt, on the other hand, glances at his script once, shakes his head, and tosses it on Mr. Littleton’s desk.

  “Where have you been?” Wyatt says in a monotone voice.

  Holly dares to remove her script from directly in front of her face. Her scowl deepens as she prepares for her line. “You have no right to ask me where I’ve been after what you did.”

  Sighing, Wyatt says, “You have no idea what I did.”

  “Then you weren’t at Garduños last week having dinner with Maria?”

  “Maria?” Wyatt asks, clearly confused. “You mean Sarah?”

  Holly turns scarlet. Even though messing up a line would be enough to embarrass Holly the Perfectionist, the level of her embarrassment seems extreme. I silently wonder why. One glance down at her script seems to confirm Holly’s mistake.

  “Yes, Sarah. What were you doing with Maria, I mean, Sarah, last week?”

  Suddenly, Wyatt’s whole demeanor changes. Two minutes ago, he was bored to tears with this whole exercise. Now, he takes a step closer to Holly, a grin spreading across his lips. Either he’s really enjoying Holly actually making a mistake, not once but twice now, or something else is going on. The whole class is captivated.

  “Which is it, Maria or Sarah?” Wyatt asks, stepping even closer.

  “That’s not your line!” Holly hisses.

  Her irritation only amuses him. They are now only a foot apart. Holly does her best to ignore him, continuing with her next line. “She’s my best friend, and you promised me there was nothing going on between the two of you.”

  “There isn’t,” Wyatt says. “With Sarah or Maria.”

  “Why were you having dinner with her then?” Holly tries to take a step back from Wyatt, but he only follows her. Red creeps back into her cheeks. “Why were you with her?”

  “It was business.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Holly says, but by now her voice is barely audible.

  “It was a business dinner with Sarah. She’s brokering a real estate deal for me, helping me buy an apartment so I can stay here with you.”

  Before Holly can move on to her next line, Wyatt slides his hand down Holly’s arm to grasp her hand lightly. Everyone in the room can tell by her shocked reaction that this was not part of the plan. Wyatt’s grin becomes even more electric, while at the same time turning sweet and playful.

  “And I wasn’t having dinner with Maria, either.”

  “No?” Holly gulps.

  “No.” Wyatt pulls her a little closer. “I was there with my family. Maria was at the table next to us waiting for her date, the one who never showed up. I went over to her table to ask her if she wanted to join my family and me. I felt bad that she had been stood up.”

  Finally, Holly tries to glance at her script, but gives up and stares at Wyatt. “You aren’t seeing anyone else?”

  Wyatt shakes his head slowly.

  “Oh, well… so you’re staying here, um, buying an apartment… or something, to be with me?” Holly asks, still trying to hold onto the planned script.

  “Apartment? Oh yeah, sure. To be with you,” he says as he leans in.

  Nobody says a word. Everyone’s eyes are glued to Wyatt’s lips as they gently press against Holly’s. No one breathes as we all wait for Holly to either bolt or slap him. I know for a fact that was not part of the script. Not a single one of us is prepared for Holly to drop her script and return Wyatt’s kiss wholeheartedly.

  Cheers and laughter fly up from my fellow students. Mr. Littleton is chuckling to himself behind his desk. I am utterly speechless. I have been listening to these two fight with each other for three months! How in the world did they end up kissing in front of the whole class? And they’re still kissing! My disbelief eventually runs out and I start laughing, thrilled that I won’t have to listen to them bicker anymore, and even happier that they fell for each other.

  The whole class boos Mr. Littleton when he finally pulls them apart, shooing them back to their seats. Wyatt is grinning, and Holly beet red but completely unable to stop herself from smiling and glancing over at Wyatt.

  “And you all thought pairing those two up was going to be a disaster,” Mr. Littleton says, setting off a new round of laughter.

  Once he quiets everyone down again, he looks in my direction, but before he can call Noah and me up for our skit, the bell rings, sending everyone diving for their bags. It’s the last day of school before the break, and no amount of PDA is going to keep students from bolting from class to class in hopes that the day will end sooner.

  Over the din of students trying to escape, Mr. Littleton says, “Noah and Van, I guess you’ll have to perform your skit when we get back from break. Be ready!”

  I nod gratefully, not sure I was ready to face the class after what happened earlier. Noah doesn’t seem too disappointed, either, when he approaches my desk. “How are you doing?” he asks.

  “I’m fine, I promise. Don’t worry about it.”

  “At least our next class is together. If you start feeling faint again, just let me know. I know you think Ketchup is better equipped to deal with this kind of stuff, but I’m not as unprepared as you might think,” Noah says.

  He could very well be talking about knowing first aid or something, but there is a level of seriousness in his expression that I’ve never seen on him before. In that one look, I can tell that he doesn’t buy Ketchup’s story. Not only that, I am almost sure that he somehow understands how serious this could be. If it has anything to do with my hunger…

  I swallow hard, telling myself that I’m just imagining things. He’s just worried. Right? I reach out toward him, intent on allaying his fears, but we both see how shaky my hand is when I reach for him. Noah’s hands steady me immediately. I want to tell him that this has nothing to do with earlier, that I’m just a little freaked out, but I’m really not sure what’s going on.

  Noah starts to say something, but Ketchup turns back toward me saying, “Thanks for fainting! I would have hated to miss that!”

  As the last few words slip past his lips, he notices Noah’s hands on me. For once, he doesn’t get mad. His expression turns worried. I try to play it off casually, saying, “So glad I could be helpful,” but Ketchup doesn’t even seem to hear me.

  “What’s going on?” Ketchup asks. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I try to tell them both, but Ketchup is already waving Mr. Littleton over.

  He hurries over to us a few seconds later. “Everything alright?”

  Noah shakes his head and holds up my hands. They’re steadier than before, but still trembling slightly. “We have the same class next, so I can keep an eye on her, but it’s probably better if she goes home. Just in case.”

  Looking more than a little annoyed that Noah has taken over, Ketchup puts a hand on Mr. Littleton’s shoulder to get his attention. “It might be nothing, but given Van’s family history, it’s better to be safe than sorry. Especially since the nurse isn’t here today. If there is an emergency, the health aid isn’t going to know what to do.”

  Mr. Littleton glances between the three of us before settling on me. “You think this might be related to your genetic condition?”

 
I bite my bottom lip. Even though Mr. Littleton seems to have assumed Noah knows as much about this as Ketchup does, Noah is watching me with a perplexed and worried expression. Chances are, what happened has nothing to do with anything. I’m not confident enough to say that, though.

  “I really don’t know. We’ve all reacted differently,” I say honestly. One look at Ketchup and the concern that has his shoulders bunched up, and I admit this might be more serious than I initially thought. Sighing, I turn back to Mr. Littleton. “Maybe they’re right.”

  The school staff went through both Oscar and Zander turning sixteen and their hunger erupting, so they’re prepared to handle what they will perceive as me having some kind of bizarre physical and mental breakdown that they will believe is related to my phantom genetic disorder. Having said that, none of them want it to happen at school.

  Mr. Littleton nods. “I’ll have the health aid call your grandmother to come get you.”

  “I don’t think she’ll be able to reach her. My grandma teaches at the university today until four o’clock.”

  “And Zander is off campus today with the reps from UNM.” Frowning, Mr. Littleton looks at Ketchup. “Are you okay taking her home?”

  Noah’s steps up looking rather annoyed. He glares at Ketchup, who’s earlier joking around clearly bothered him. He must think Ketchup isn’t taking this seriously enough. He stares him down and says, “I’m perfectly capable of taking Van home. My parents will understand if I miss a few classes.”

  Mr. Littleton’s eyes dance between Ketchup and Noah before settling on me again. He waits for a moment, considering, and I think smiling just a little at my expense. Finally, he looks away from me and acknowledges Noah. “You do not have permission to leave campus in the case of an emergency regarding Ms. Roth. Ketchup does.”

  “Really?” Noah demands. “Why?”

  Enjoying Noah’s irritation, Ketchup steps forward and takes me under his arm. “Because they trust me. I didn’t just pop up out of nowhere and try to insinuate myself into Van’s life for no apparent reason.”

  “No apparent reason?” Noah fumes. “She’s my friend! That’s my reason. I don’t hang around because she saved my life. I’m with her because I want to be!”

  Ketchup’s whole body tightens. “You are not with her,” he growls.

  “That’s not what I meant,” Noah snaps, “but I’m not the one who was laughing this off a few seconds ago!”

  Desperately, I look up at Mr. Littleton for help, and thankfully he grants it. Stepping in between the two guys, he gently pushes them apart. He looks first at Noah. “You three can sort out whatever’s going on between you later. No more arguing, Noah. You will go to your next class because this school cannot release you to go with her. Do you understand?”

  Noah nods sharply.

  Mr. Littleton turns to Ketchup and levels a stern look at him. “You’ll drive her home?” Ketchup nods in the affirmative, a gesture Mr. Littleton repeats. “Okay, stop by the office and sign out. I’ll call ahead and let them know you have permission. I’m also calling your grandmother, Van, and leaving her a message so she knows you’re on your way home.”

  I assume he means that last part as a warning not to screw around, but he has nothing to fear. Ketchup won’t let me out of his sight until I’m parked in front of Grandma, and she reassures us that this is not a sign of my hunger erupting. At least, I’m hoping that’s what she’ll tell us.

  Once the office knows we’re coming, Ketchup pulls me toward the door with Noah trailing behind. I feel bad that he’s being left behind like this, and that he feels like he’s being tossed aside, because that isn’t true. I honestly believe Noah would take care of me. At least I think so. When he and Ketchup were arguing, did he say he wasn’t my friend because I saved his life like all the others? How does he know about that? Panic starts to creep in as Ketchup pushes me down the hall. I look back at him to ask him about it but, apparently, he has a few other things on his mind.

  “Van, what genetic condition was he talking about? Are you okay? You’ve never mentioned anything like that before.”

  The panic in his voice slows me down. I stop and turn to face him, momentarily forgetting about my question. Ketchup is surprisingly patient as he waits.

  “Noah, it’s not something I tell very many people. I’m sorry I haven’t told you about it before now. It’s really no big deal most of the time, but both my brothers got really sick around this age. Ketchup’s just being careful,” I explain. “I’m sorry, Noah, I can explain more about it later.”

  “Can I call you later?” he asks.

  I nod. “Of course. Now get to class before you get in trouble.”

  He doesn’t seem happy about it, but he does trot off to class through the now-empty halls. Ketchup and I are on our way as well. After a quick stop at the office to sign out, we both climb into his car and begin the short drive back to my house. He doesn’t waste even a second.

  “Okay, what really happened?”

  Sighing, I lean back against the seat. “I really have no idea. I thought it was you at first.”

  “What do you mean?”

  A slight blush creeps onto my cheeks as I remember. This, of course, only makes Ketchup more curious. “When you took my hand… I felt like my skin was humming, and then the memory of…”

  “Of what?” Ketchup asks, grinning.

  “Of you kissing me. It started playing in my head like it was happening right then.”

  Ketchup’s chuckle makes me grimace. “Sounds to me like someone was just a little overwhelmed by me touching her.”

  “I’m sure.” My eyes roll, despite the fact that Ketchup touching me will get my heart racing just about every time. I’ve made my stance on that very clear, and I don’t need to be sending mixed messages right now. “After remembering the kiss, other memories started replaying themselves, and then something weird happened. I saw Noah and me doing our skit in front of the class, but it wasn’t right. We were both furious with each other. The fight was real.”

  “What do you mean—you saw it?” Ketchup asks.

  I shrug and sink into my seat, feeling suddenly worn out. “It just seemed so real, like a memory. But it had never happened. We didn’t even do our skit today, and even when we do, it’s just pretend. We won’t really be fighting each other.”

  As we pull into the driveway of my house, the car is quiet. I’m surprised, and not at all thrilled, to see David standing on the porch. I reach for the door to get the inevitable explaining and general lack of answers over with. Ketchup’s voice stops me.

  “What if the thing about the skit hasn’t happened yet?”

  “What? Of course it hasn’t happened yet.”

  Ketchup shakes his head. “No, I mean, what if it is going to happen, just not yet?”

  My head starts shaking. “No.” I shake my head again. “No.”

  “What were you telling me right before you fainted?” When I don’t respond, he continues. “You said you’d had a bad feeling all morning that something was going to go wrong with the skit. What if it wasn’t just a weird, random fear?”

  “Ketchup,” I say with a sigh, “this thing was either just a random occurrence, or it has something to do with my hunger getting ready to let loose. Premonitions, or whatever you’re thinking, I don’t think I can handle that right now, okay?”

  He seems a little disappointed that his revelation didn’t get me excited, but he understands that I can only deal with so much. I hit my limit of crazy nonsense a while ago. He doesn’t let it go quite yet. “If it happens again…”

  “I’ll tell you,” I promise.

  We both get out of the car and approach David on the porch. Before we get within earshot, Ketchup offers one more thought. “Don’t tell your grandma or David… just in case I’m right.”

  I have no real reason to believe Ketchup’s theory, but just the idea of David using something like that chills me, because I have no doubt it would not be used for go
od. My head bobs silently in agreement as I climb the porch steps.

  Chapter Eight: On One Condition

  (Vanessa)

  David won’t stop staring at me. I feel like enough of a freak without his eyes boring into me, as if he expects my entire body to spontaneously catch on fire. I just want to go to bed, but David won’t let me. Maybe there really is some kind of timetable for stuff like this, like not swimming after eating or whatever. I half suspect he just wants to be a jerk. Just like when he sent Ketchup packing this afternoon.

  Zander sitting down next to me and putting an arm around my shoulder helps a little. He didn’t seem to notice my bizarre reaction to him when he got home, but Ketchup did. I’m sure it looked a lot like what happened at school today… except for the fainting part. I try not to think of that right now. Instead, I lean into his shoulder and close my eyes. Maybe if I just pretend David isn’t here, it will help. I half expected Grandma to be the one fussing over me, but she’s been oddly distant lately. I mean, I know I haven’t been the most welcoming toward her since David showed up, but I’m still surprised. This is the kind of stuff that always sent her into overboard mode before. I guess she’s thinks David knows how to handle it better?

  I try to put it out of my mind, but my phone starts ringing a moment later. David looks at it with narrowed eyes. What is answering a phone call going to do to me? Shaking my head, I snatch my phone off the coffee table and look at the caller ID. Noah.

  Instead of answering the call right away, I stand up and start toward the back door. David and Zander are both up a moment later. Zander takes up a protective stance in response to David’s agitated one. I roll my eyes at both of them. “I just want a little privacy to answer the phone. You can watch me from the back door, David.”

  I don’t wait for him to agree. I just leave. Halfway through the house, I slide my finger across the screen and answer my phone before it can go to voicemail. “Hey, Noah,” I say as I hurry the last few steps to the back door. Pushing it closed behind me, I pointedly narrow my eyes at David as he stalks after me.