“You two seem so close.” The cheerleader blinked, completely missing the violence.
In the distance, he spotted copper curls pass a set of doors with Cafeteria spelled above them. That invisible pull he’d been feeling tugged him in that direction. Ducking out of Rainer’s grasp, he hooked his arm over the cheerleader’s shoulders and smiled.
“Forget him,” he said, hiking his thumb at his tormentor. “I’m suddenly really hungry.”
Chapter Four
Selena
Disturbing the Hive
An annoying buzzing filled the cafeteria as everyone discussed the new kid’s arrival. Or maybe my freaky reaction to the new kid’s arrival. Who knew? I certainly hoped it was more the former.
Normally, the town gossips knew pretty much everything going on in our community, sometimes before it happened. But given the amount of chatter floating around the room, this piece of information must have slipped through the cracks. Uncle and nephew were entitled to their privacy. Except, I also knew that in Newcastle, where everyone knew everyone, secrets never stayed hidden for long. The biddies down at the diner missed this one. Not even Grams, the leader of the town gossips, mentioned anything about a newcomer when she got home from her shift at the diner last night.
With a frown, I dumped a brown paper bag on the table’s glossy surface and plopped into my seat. “Look at them, talking about Mr. Sloan’s nephew like he’s so awesome. People need to get a life.” I raised my voice for the last bit, not caring who heard me. A crumpled napkin sailed my way, which I dodged.
Kyle set his tray down to my left. “It shouldn’t surprise you. He’s new.” He took a bite of his sandwich as his jeans made contact with a chair. “And he’s cute. Can anyone smell Prom King?”
I latched on to the word “cute” and didn’t even think of the consequences when I asked, “You mean he’s your type?”
He snorted into his drink. “God no! I hate you for even mentioning it.”
I lifted both my hands. “Okay! Jeez. You don’t have to give me the stink eye. You said ‘cute’—”
“And that gives you the right to ask me if he’s my type?” he interrupted.
“You never talk about your type.”
“Damn right I don’t. I was just stating a fact. And if you repeat what I said here, I quit as your best friend.”
I sat there, speechless. I didn’t think he’d bite my head off for a simple question. I should have known better. Kyle came out in middle school after Penny had asked him to the Sadie Hawkins Dance. He’d been about to turn her down when she told him she’d known all along and only asked him to save him from having to turn down other girls. “The humanitarian thing,” she’d said. Their relationship had been like that ever since—going to every dance together. I, of course, stood there in super shock when he eventually told me he liked guys. But after a long talk, and making me pinky swear I wouldn’t tell anyone else, I understood why he kept it quiet. As someone with my own stuff to hide from a busybody town, I accepted why he wanted things on the down low and moved on.
His grumpiness pulled me back to the buzzing cafeteria when he said, “I don’t go for arrogant types.”
Since he seemed chatty today, and we were already on the topic…
“Well, if you did go for someone, who’d it be?”
He leaned back and folded his arms. I held my breath. His pose had SHUT DOWN written all over it. He scanned the crowd. My lungs burned from the waiting. Then he shrugged, breaking the tension.
“My type,” he finally said, “isn’t here.”
I exhaled slowly, letting my brain catch up with what he didn’t say. “You mean he’s not here.”
“Something like that.”
I wanted more, but his tone—all final and flat like that—stopped me. Sometimes, Kyle clammed up. To avoid further awkwardness, I changed the topic. Well, technically, I returned it to the original one.
“Anyway, the school is treating Dillan like a shiny toy on display.” I paused from unwrapping my lunch as I spotted the third member of our triumvirate heading our way.
With each step, Penny’s long, black braid bounced against her ruffled, pink shirt. Her almond-shaped eyes, the same color as her hair, stored a good amount of mischief. I loved Penny to death, especially after saving me from Bowen this morning, but on days like these, being her friend could be hard. Compared to her polished appearance, I was gangly and awkward—coppery curls that broke brushes, a complexion like I’d never heard of the sun, and long limbs meant for banging into things.
“Hey, bitches!” Her volume barely made a dent over the buzz, buzz, buzz.
“Sit down before you fall over.” Kyle pointed at a chair.
“I have news!” Penny’s eyes sparkled as she took the seat to my right. Sandwiched between my two best friends, all was right in my world.
“Let me guess…” He shook his head.
She nodded like a bobble-head doll.
“What do you know about Dillan Sloan?” I asked to keep her from exploding.
The doll deflated. “You already know his name?”
“We have algebra together.” Kyle reached behind me and patted her shoulder.
“Oh. Well…that doesn’t change a thing!” She brightened. “Anyway, Dillan Sloan, as you already know, is the nephew of Mr. Sloan, our wonderful and impossibly attractive history teacher.”
I gave Penny my best duh face, tearing a piece of my egg sandwich and popping the morsel into my mouth. Yum. Grams added grated cheese today.
“I’m just getting started.” She wiggled her perfectly plucked eyebrows at me. “Dillan’s also the son of the legendary duo of archeologists: Dr. Jarvis Sloan and Dr. Lillian Sloan.”
At the mention of Dillan’s parents, Kyle-nerd emerged. “You mean the two who proved Atlantis is really in South America and not in Spain? Those Sloans?”
“You make them sound like superheroes out of a graphic novel.” I poked him.
“Yep, those Sloans.” Penny ignored me. “Dillan’s National Geographic royalty. But that’s not all.” Her hand rose to stall any further questions. “It seems young Dillan has also been part of several, and I mean several, ad campaigns for designers like Calvin Klein and Armani, to name two, and was once approached to star in a movie. He’s even rumored to have dated every young Hollywood starlet and immerging singer you can name. You know that Taylor Swift song—”
“The one about the guy who dumped her?” Kyle asked.
“Aren’t they all about guys who dumped her?” I asked back.
“Anyway,” Penny said exasperatedly, “here’s the best part.”
“There’s a best part?” I scoffed. Her lower lip jutted out at me. “Okay, okay. Shutting up now.”
“As I was saying,” she continued. “Rumor has it Dillan was responsible for unearthing a lost civilization in the Amazon.”
“That can’t be true!” My palm tingled from slapping the table, reminding me of the electric handshake.
Offended, she asked, “Which part?”
“Starting anything with ‘rumor has it’ only means it’s a ru-mor. Where’d you get your info so fast from anyway?”
“Google.” Her patented eye roll showed off her latest Cover Girl mascara.
“And when did you have time to Google him?”
Penny fished out a tablet and handed it to me. “iPad,” she said like I was supposed to know what she meant, which I did, but I resented the insinuation anyway.