Forgotten (9 page)

I walked slow, closer to them while
Martha exchanged good-nights with the case manager. Ida Jenkins was
a burly old woman, and, from what she’d told me, had worked in the
foster system all of her working life. Years were sneaking up on
her. She only had a few good ones left in her before she’d be
forced into a retirement.

“
You still like it here,
Gwyneth?” she asked before leaving. She didn’t check up on me often
anymore, but it was still her duty to keep tabs on me even if I
wasn’t misbehaving anymore. I smiled; it was all the response Ida
needed. She wasn’t going to make a fuss about nothing and was
probably hoping she wouldn’t have to relocate me.

“
John makes the best wings
in town,” I said and offered her one for the road.

“
Heartburn isn’t worth it,”
Ida said, and then left.

Max wagged his tail forcefully enough
that his body swayed, I knew he would topple the new girl the
moment I let my guard down. After telling him to sit, I kneeled
down in front of the foster child. I remember being in her place
eight years ago: scared, cold, and utterly alone.

“
Hello,” I said, and
extended my hand. The small girl timidly took my hand and muttered
that her name was Elsie Yang. Her hands were frozen and boney. I
highly suspected she was nothing but knees and elbows. “Elsie’s a
pretty name for an eight-year-old.”

The girl said nothing. She looked like
she was attempting to melt into the wall behind her. How did a girl
so shy manage to be a runaway threat? Nix that – I knew firsthand
how she could be a runner. I smiled brightly, hoping to win her
over with pleasantries, even though I knew better. Assuming she was
taking in the first sights of the house, I filled the space with
rattling about how great the Thompsons were to live with, if you
like heaps of laundry.

“
What’s wrong with your
eyes?” Elsie asked. Her voice squeaked, almost surprised she spoke
in the first place.

The soft click of the front door
sounded. Elsie instantly stiffened. For all she knew, I was a mean,
older kid who was just itching to lay down the rules, and the
Thompsons were the people keeping her captive. John’s footsteps
sounded in the kitchen. If I didn’t know better, he was waiting for
Martha and me to finish introducing ourselves. Meeting everyone
could be a bit overwhelming.

“
It’s okay to ask, Elsie.
I’m blind,” I said. I pictured her lips quivering as she tried to
figure out what angle I was working.

“
Blind?” she
repeated.

“
Yeah,” I said. “It’s kind
of nice, actually. I don’t have to spend hours in front of the
mirror fussing about how I look because it doesn’t matter,
and
I have really good
hearing.”

Her dark shadow got closer. She leaned
forward to get a better look at my eyes. “How did you know how old
I was?”

I told her it was a lucky
guess and smiled brightly, even though I dislike it when people
gawked at my eyes. It was extremely nerve-racking, but I wanted
Elsie to feel safe. “Martha’s husband, John, is in the
kitchen,
hopefully
making dessert,” I said a little louder, hoping he’d get the
hint that a few wings and chips weren’t going to fill me
up.

Glancing toward the kitchen to see if
John was going to make me a liar, I caught sight of a shimmery
figure, glistening through the living room’s window. I took a slow,
deep breath and closed my eyes, hoping the orb would disappear. It
didn’t. My lungs fought to cooperate. My adrenaline spiked. Sensing
my distress, Max scooted closer to me without actually moving out
of his ‘sit’ position.

“
Let’s get you settled in
first,” Martha suggested as soon as she noticed my anxiety spike.
“Your room is on the second floor, next to Winnie’s.”

When I looked back up, I saw Martha’s
and Elsie’s shadow moving toward the stairs – their backs to the
window. Another white figure moved alongside the first. Before I
could give any warning that we were being watched, the two shapes
vanished.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

Fourth period literature was my one
and only class with Bree. At least it was “Ryker-free.” I know he
tried to change his schedule to get into this class after Bree
revealed our schedules. I swore that he did it purely to bother
me.

Using Stella to guide me, I made my
way to the last seat in the first row. Bree waved to me from the
last chair in the second row and then returned to scribbling on a
piece of paper – our homework. The five-question assignment took me
nearly an hour to complete last night. Of course, I was somewhat
distracted with finding excuses to look out every window in the
house to see if anyone was still spying on me.

Glancing back at the large, vacant
desk in front of the room, I tucked Stella under my arm and dug my
cell out of my back pocket. Without opening it, I pushed the volume
button several times and waited for the infamous missed call beep,
nothing. Sighing, I silenced it, and returned the cell to my
pocket. I wish HomFree, John’s home security company, would return
my call already! Taking Stella back out, I made my way down the
aisle to my desk.

“
I thought we weren’t
supposed to have phones on during class,” Jace mocked.

I hadn’t heard
him
walk up behind me, my
stomach felt fine, my vertigo hadn’t shifted, and I was still
headache free. I patted my back pocket for my cell. Pick pocketed.
I groaned – would Jace ever leave me alone?

“
Jace!” Bree said a little
too excitedly, completely forgetting about her assignment.
“Switched schedules so you could suffer through Miss Conner’s
lectures with us?”

“
Something like that.” He
spoke like he moved, effortlessly and hypnotically. He stood far
enough away so our clothing wouldn’t actually touch. His usual
abyss wasn’t blazing white; it was diminished significantly. “Isn’t
the mere offense of having a phone outside of a locker during
school hours punishable by detention? Perhaps I should hold onto it
for safe keeping.”

“
What do you want?” I
demanded.

“
Winnie!” Bree acted like
my rudeness towards Jace had appalled her on a level that directly
affected woman-kind as a whole.

“
I only want an apology,”
he answered.

Which meant exactly the opposite: he
wanted more than just an apology. His hand grazed my side as he
slid by me. My body ached where his hand had brushed against, but
at least the world wasn’t shifting under my feet. I wasn’t throwing
up my lunch, which was an added bonus, but what troubled me more
than anything was that I didn’t exactly hate the exhilaration
surging through me.

“
An apology for what?” I
asked.

He leaned over the desk to talk to
Bree, which bothered me more than I cared to admit. Determined not
to get sidetracked from how he physically affected me, I swallowed
the lump in my throat and focused on not sounding
foolish.

“
I’m in need of your
personal assistance, Bree,” Jace said loud enough for me to hear.
If the morning sun wouldn’t have reflected off of it just
perfectly, I wouldn’t have seen the paper he slipped to her in his
hand. I clenched my teeth, determined not to overreact. I wasn’t
jealous. Being jealous would mean I actually cared, and I didn’t
care about Jace, much less who he gave notes to.

Jace rubbed his arm like he’d been
suddenly chilled. He turned his attention back to me. “For
starters, you ditched me after school the other day…”

His darkened figure slid deeper into
my seat, distracting me with the smooth movement of which his body
moved. He pushed his chest out slyly, as he rested his hands on the
back of his head. His movements were free flowing, but I knew they
were perfectly calculated – they had to be. No one moved with such
precision; it was like he expected a photographer to snap a photo
of him at any random time.

His fluid movements reminded me of my
dream – watching in awe as he moved smoothly over me. I swallowed
the lump in my throat when I wondered what it was actually like to
kiss him and then rolled my eyes because I allowed myself to
remember a kiss that didn’t actually happen. It was a dream, I told
myself for the umpteenth time.

His voice – his insanely charismatic
voice – demanded the attention of anyone within hearing distance;
yet, he spoke like he was talking only to me. The sentiment hiding
in his voice, revealed hidden messages that only I could hear. It
was like he was whispering promises in my ear instead of having a
public conversation. Words jumped from his tongue in a way that
made me suspect his lips were well practiced for more than
listening to himself speak. I bit my lip as I lost myself in the
dream. My first kiss was impossibly perfect; his lips felt like
silk. Reality would surely never match; yet, I still shuddered
recalling his embrace. It was just a dream, I told myself again. A
moan grew from his chest. The sound made me want to lick the next
words from his mouth.

He paused in his rant. “You didn’t
hear a single word I said, did you?”

I wanted to hide; he’d caught me
daydreaming…about him. Thank goodness he didn’t know what I was
thinking about. I was too embarrassed as it was to say anything. I
couldn’t just turn around and walk away like I had the other day
after school, which I assumed was the incident for which he wanted
an apology. I was stuck next to him for an entire hour – no exits,
so to speak. Commandeering the desk in front of Jace, I dropped my
backpack and slipped onto the hard seat.

“
You enjoy listening to
me,” he said as if it meant more than me simply being attracted to
him.

“
You enjoy hearing
yourself,” I muttered. I turned to face him, bumping a pencil off
his desk. “Do you no longer want the seat closest to the door, or
is your goal simply to annoy me?”

“
We’re on the second floor,
dearest. Anyone threatening, who comes through that door, will have
given me ample heads up.” Jace said and tilted his head to pick up
the pencil that I knocked off. He picked it up, but hesitated to
return to a normal sitting position. His eyes were level with the
back of my chair. “And the view is better from here
anyway.”

I blushed, recalling that every seat
had a hole in the back. Bree coughed and then slipped him a note.
He sat up in his seat and leaned over to her, slowly taking the
note back from her hands. She giggled nervously. I scowled as they
flirted with each other. For the first time in my life, I wished I
shared just one more class with Ryker because Bree’s flirting
wouldn’t be so obnoxious.

I tried to ignore them both. They
could pass notes to whomever they wanted; I had no claim to Jace
and didn’t want it. Jace was practically dangling a thread in front
of me like I was a kitten, egging me to take it. Slowly but
deliberately, I shook my head; I wasn’t taking his bait. He
chuckled, clearly not believing me. His laugh sounded like a
hypnotic gong, ringing in my ears. He leaned forward to slip the
note in his back pocket. He spoke only loud enough for me to
hear.

“
It doesn’t really matter
what she wrote. You’re falling for me all over again. I can feel
it.”

“
You know nothing about
what I’m feeling.”

“
Don’t I?” Jace said
entirely too seriously.

Sitting back in his chair, he tapped
Bree’s paper with his pencil. He told her the answer to question
five was on page seventy-eight, distracting her from our wordless
conversation. Clearly he didn’t know what was higher on Bree’s
agenda – flirting with the new guy or finishing
homework.

“
I know exactly what you’re
feeling, Gwyneth,” he said and then his white figure brightened,
stinging my eyes. My stomach did a flip that had nothing to do with
being sick. I opened my mouth to respond, but he silenced me by
whispering how adorable I looked when he knew I was lying. I
frowned, trying to figure out how to respond to a statement like
that, when the teacher closed the door to the classroom. The tardy
bell rang a moment later.

“
Your signals are crossed,”
I said and then faced the teacher.

“
We will be discussing
several of Shakespeare’s classic tragedies,” Miss Conner said. Her
voice was high and exasperated. She acted like she’d been forced to
teach for thirty-five years instead of it being her chosen
profession. Whatever teaching passion Miss Conner thought she had
her first few years as an educator had all but vanished at this
point in her career.

Leaning forward in his desk, as much
as it allowed, Jace brushed my hair away from my neck, which
exposed my ear. Heat crept across my neck when he whispered how
alluring my fragrance smelled. My pulse raced when a low moan
rumbled in his throat.

“
I sincerely doubt I’m
misinterpreting your signals, Gwyneth,” he said and then a searing
pain shot down my spine instead of the warm tickle that had been
there before.

We continued the hour-long lecture
about Romeo and Juliet in silence while I tried to fathom in what
universe an impromptu torture treatment from a guy would give any
sane girl reason to swoon into the arms of said torturer? I
couldn’t figure out how Jace was making me so physically ill; but
the sick-o was doing it. I spent the hour trying to keep my legs
from cramping. If it wasn’t a Charley horse that made me want cry
out in pain, it was my pounding headache. By the time I massaged
the knots from my neck, back spasms forced me to arch and twist for
no reason whatsoever. At least my breakfast decided it wanted to
stick around – a small victory.