Book of Love (18 page)

I was fidgeting. I needed
to remember that my dreams were just that: dreams.
Just. A. Dream.
It was
absurd to think that he could know them. It was as though I
believed someone could get into my head, which, with all respect to
the world of psychics, just wasn’t possible,
especially—

Max cleared his throat. I stopped
thinking.

“
Sorry, I…” I moved my
weight to my other foot, trying to concentrate. “I’m
fine.”

He ran a hand through his hair—his other
hand behind his back as he leaned against the lockers. “Fine? Just
fine?”

I felt the corners of my mouth curl, but I
forced them down. “Well, yes.” I wanted to say it was because he
had left with no explanation, leaving me falling into an eternal
hole of anxiety and regret. Not to mention the fact that I really
did feel like a stalker for roving the whole school every day this
week, just in the hopes of finding him. I’d been left with no way
to call him, no way to know what last week had meant.

Max leaned back on his heels, his stance
amused. He wore a black sweater, the wool furled ever so slightly
as though washed the wrong way. The sleeves were casually pressed
back to his elbows, exposing the ever present tattoos.

His hand moved to my chin, lifting it. He
forced me to look into his eyes, the exact same eyes in my dream.
“What are you doing tonight?” He was calm and confident, his lips
shaping around the words in a way that made my heart flutter.

His breath was intoxicating, laced with the
sugary mint smell I’d tasted in the dream. I exhaled through my
nose until the breath was void from my lungs, not wanting to give
in so easily. I calmed myself. “Nothing.” I thought of the Jane
Austen book I was planning to read.

“
Would you like to come
meet my grandfather?”

I felt a surge of excitement as the hope
exploded, my feet feeling as though they had left the ground. I
smiled wide, unable to contain it. “Yes!” My attempts to remain
cool had failed—Jane Austen was dead.

Max chuckled. “I figured you would.”

I couldn’t stop smiling, and for a moment, I
was no longer nervous.

“
I thought you would enjoy
seeing where I live, since I’ve seen where you do.” He paused for a
moment, his eyes locked with mine, once again exposing my
vulnerabilities. “If I haven’t made it clear, Beautiful, I want to
know you better.”

I didn’t know what to say in return. His
address seemed so formal, as though he was trying to make his
intentions known. I lifted one brow, laughing to ease my
nerves.

“
You think I’m joking?” He
didn’t laugh in return, staring determinedly. The corners of his
lips curled just enough to appear pleasant.

I brushed my foot across the ground, my
laugh fading. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I—yeah, I want to know
you, too.” I nodded.

His smile returned. “I
feel a connection with you.” His dimple made an appearance. “It’s
no surprise that I find you very…
striking.”

My stomach tugged, filling
my limbs with a wash of adrenaline. I looked down at my baggy jeans
and oversized long sleeved shirt that poked out from under my
father’s old jacket. I didn’t understand what he found
striking
about me. I
knew that once upon a time—before my father’s death—I’d had a lot
of potential. If I’d kept up with my looks, I would have surpassed
Liz in popularity for sure. It would be me that all her minions
would be falling over to impress—only a brunette
version.

Max looked to the ceiling of the corridor.
“I just have a feeling, you know? You do something to me.” He
looked back at me, his blue eyes narrow.

I could relate with that feeling.

I heard the bell ring, my
anxieties to get to class on time tickling my mind. He turned and
stood beside me. “Come on,
Stalker.
I’ll walk you to class.”

I laughed.

“
Oh, I
almost forgot…” He had his hands in his pocket and was rummaging
for something. “I told my grandfather about your interests in his
work. He gave me something that he wanted you to have. He’s an old
man, but he never gets tired of meeting a fan of history.” He
pulled his hand out of his pocket and laughed. “So, this
was
his
idea, not mine. Though, I don’t mind being the one to give it
to you.”

Max held his fist toward me, slowly
unrolling his fingers. A ring lay in his palm, tarnished with age.
My heart stopped. It was so beautiful, made of a white stone that
seemed to glow despite the tarnish.

“
What is it?” It was a dumb
question, but what else was there to say? I’d never been given a
gift quite like it.

With his other hand he
grabbed mine, bringing it up and holding it flat as he rolled the
ring into my palm. At first I didn’t know what to think as I held
it. The ring felt so strange against my skin, and it took a moment
for the feeling to register. It was—
warm.

He rolled my fingers over
it. His firm touch cold in contrast with the ring. “It’s a magick
ring,” he whispered. “Or so my grandfather says it is. It’s made of
an ancient stone, a very
rare
stone that’s meant for protection.”

I felt a lump rise in my throat. “A magick
ring?” I couldn’t get past his initial explanation. As I felt the
ring in my grasp, I nearly forgot about how beautiful he was.

I rolled my fingers open as he released my
grip. I stared at it, unable to deny the fact that it had to be
magick. How else could it be so warm when his grasp was so cold?
I’d read about the tales of magick that his grandfather spoke of,
and I always wondered if something could be offered as proof. To
me, this was all the proof I would ever need.

I thought about all the things his
grandfather had written pertaining to the ancient claims of magick,
and the sorcerers that were not unlike those we read about in
everyday fairytales. I didn’t remember reading about the ring in
his grandfather’s writings, but perhaps it was meant to be a
secret. Modern claims at magickal rings were not uncommon, but one
like this was anything but. It was said that they once found a
whole grouping of true magickal rings in the Fairy Caves, but when
the rings were proven to be no more than mere silver—containing no
trace of anything out of the ordinary—it was then believed to be
nothing but a hoax.

“
Is it safe to wear?” I
finally spoke.

He nodded. “Yes, of course. I think that’s
what my grandfather intended.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re
grandfather’s intentions, right?”

He laughed. “I told you, Beautiful, it’s not
from me,” he claimed.

I was only teasing, but the way he continued
to react made me question him. I raised my eyebrows, giving him a
speculative nod. Max grinned, enjoying our banter. I was finally
gaining an edge on the conversation, and was now able to gain my
typical confidence back.

We reached my home-room as I slid the ring
on the middle finger of my right hand. It fit perfectly, as though
molding to the shape of my finger to create an ideal fit. The
warmth of it felt protective and safe, as its purpose would imply.
“Well, tell your grandfather thank you for me.”

Max had his hands in his pockets once more.
“You can say so yourself, tonight. Pick you up around six?”

I twisted the ring on my finger. “Okay.” I
smiled, lost in adoration, completely forgetting the fact that he
had practically abandoned me for the past six days.

He touched my face, tucking a chunk of my
hair behind my ear. When he pulled his hand away, there was a white
origami dove tucked between his fingers. The delicate bird
contrasted with his edgy aura. He held it there, waiting for me to
take it. I lifted my hand, plucking it from his grasp, amazed by
the delicate perfection of it. He turned and walked away; I watched
him, the smile on my face seemingly permanent. I grabbed the handle
of the door for balance, taking a moment to compose myself before
walking in. I took a seat, my fingers shaking as I unfolded the
small bird.

My stomach tugged.

_BEAUTIFUL

It was written in small, perfect capital
letters. My stomach fluttered, sending my heart into overdrive.

Wes:

I leaned back in my seat
in math class, feeling rather smug. Emily was down the aisle from
me. She slid down in her seat, and I watched as her skirt grazed
across her thigh. I tightened my jaw. Her hair fell into her face,
and she was quick to tuck it behind her ear. She glanced at me
sideways, and smiled slyly. I smiled back, looking to the front of
the room, pretending that I hadn’t been staring though I knew that
she
knew.

I began to wonder if she had heard anything
Jane had said in the car. Though Jane hadn’t said anything that
would upset Emily, I was still cognizant of the fact that the
occasional thought of Jane would creep into my mind. Throughout the
week, I’d learned that the more crowded the room, the more
distracted Emily became, and thus, the less she heard from me. It
was those moments when I chose to get my consideration about Jane
out of the way, such as now. The way I saw it, there were three
desks and three minds between Emily and me, three lines of thought
she would have to sift through to find mine.

I glanced back at Emily, unable to resist
watching her. Why hadn’t I ever noticed her before? Was I so
blinded by Jane that I couldn’t see what was right in front of
me?

The teacher walked to the
front of the room, watching Emily with a close eye, suspecting that
her act last week had been a fraud. Emily shot him a sassy smirk,
extending her leg as though tempting him. I rolled my eyes, at last
understanding why she did these things. She was a no-nonsense girl,
always pushing the envelope, and I liked it. I’d never felt so much
excitement and adrenaline. I’d never felt so
alive.
For the first time, I was
beginning to see what it meant to have someone love me.

I flexed my chest and sat back. My muscles
felt good. I thought about the lion, thinking that if this were
something I could control, then being something like a wolf, or
lion, made a lot more sense than the weepy raven I’d first changed
into. I looked at the kids around me, so oblivious to this whole
other world, oblivious to the power I had. Why I had this talent
was what I was beginning to wonder. What exactly was I meant to use
it for?

“
Gregory, please continue
with this problem.” The teacher broke my concentration, saying a
name I wasn’t familiar with. I sat up, looking to the back of the
room as a chair brushed across the floor. He was wearing all black,
his narrow green eyes less than impressed by the fact that the
teacher had called on him. I watched him as he stood, a noticeable
afterglow glimmering behind his kelly-green stare. My heart beat
faster, feeling a familiar hatred toward this boy, the same hatred
I felt for Max. That’s when I realized this must be the other
brother all the rumors were going on about.

The teacher looked
noticeably frightened as Gregory strode to the front of the room,
leaning close to him in a threatening manner. Gregory took the dry
erase marker from his hand as the teacher cowered away. It was then
that I felt Emily’s heart amongst all the others, surging to life.
I winced, the pitch of it like a scream in my head. I looked at
her, seeing her squirm as though to hide the fact that she was
clearly put-off by the new student. Her head was bowed, her hair
forming a curtain that hid her face.
How
did she know him?

I looked back at Gregory, jealousy tingling
throughout my body. Was he one of her dealers? A crush? But that
didn’t make sense. Hardly anyone had spoken to the brothers at all,
so how could she act this way? I saw him glance at her, a
noticeable look of hunger in his eyes. Looking back at Emily, I saw
she was still squirming, now touching her temple as her heart
throbbed in my own.

I watched Gregory with a heightened sense of
protective duty, noticing my own feelings of unease toward him were
growing. My mind went wild, now wondering if he had assaulted Emily
somehow. She hadn’t told me anything, but would she? Gregory
finished the long equation with a flagrant dot that rattled the
board. He had answered it perfectly.

He tossed the marker at the teacher who
fumbled to catch it. Gregory walked back to his desk, leaning into
the chair with a look that was smugger than my own. I glared at
Emily, trying to get her to look at me. When she did, I saw the
pain in her eyes. My emotions were suddenly a mess, my hormones
raging. I felt sweat form on my brow, and for the rest of class, I
wasn’t sure if I even breathed. I was too afraid that if I let
myself go, my secret would be revealed.

And the new kid would
be
dead.

Emily:

There was something about
this Gregory kid, something evil. He was seducing me, and I felt
his body the same way I had that day he had approached me in the
parking lot, when he gave me the pills.
What was he doing in my head?
And
whose voices were those that followed him?

Class was almost over, but
I was afraid to move. I felt Gregory waiting for me in the back of
the room, as though he were hunting me down. His thoughts were
impossible to hear over the screaming, and though I tried to endure
it, I couldn’t. I flashed Wes another painful look, hearing his
thoughts flood with uncertainty, jealousy and anger. The students
filtered out, and I held my breath as I saw Gregory move from his
chair, his gaze locked on mine. He approached, leaning close to my
ear—
too close.
I
dared myself to stare at him, and for a moment, I swear I saw his
green eyes flash with flecks of red. He smiled, and his hand
touched my thigh.