Prophecy (7 page)

“Is she feeling okay?” I asked.

Mom was a nurse. Maybe Mrs. Hale had stopped over for some medical advice, perhaps to share why she’d screamed last night. If she’d screamed last night.

“A bit of culture shock, maybe. Moving to the rural Midwest from Iceland must take some adjusting.” Mom walked away and returned with the teacups from the sunroom. She ran water over them in the sink and ignored me as I continued spying on the neighbor.

“What’s she doing?” I whispered, mostly to myself.

Mrs. Hale stared at the house as if it might eat her alive. The ominous grey and black motif was probably considered stately at one time, but all things considered, she might think about hiring painters and choosing something less
Addam’s Family
this time around.

“It’s rude to stare.” Mom wiped the counters and pulled two place settings from the cupboards. She stopped before filling our plates. “Is she still standing on the sidewalk?”

“Yep.”

Mom moved behind me and put her palms on my shoulders. Together, we waited. I wasn’t sure what I expected might happen, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her. What was she thinking as she looked at her home? Had she ever been there before their big move? Why such a big move? It couldn’t be for work. There was no work nearby. Surely, if her husband wanted to commute, he could have found something closer than America.

“Maybe she’s thinking of redecorating?” Mom offered. “New siding, windows, fresh paint.”

“Maybe.”

The front door opened and a man’s head moved into view over the cornstalks between his porch and our kitchen window. The view from my room was way better. Mrs. Hale smoothed the skirt of her dress and repositioned her purse beneath her arm. She ran a hand over her platinum hair and took a step forward, then another.

“Well, there she goes. Nothing to see here.” Mom went to the stockpot on the stove and lifted the lid. “Hungry?”

My stomach gurgled. Mom smiled.

“Have a seat, sweetie.” Mom’s soft voice soothed my ragged nerves. “Tell me all about your day.”

Oh, boy. Where to start?

* * * *

I zombied through the next morning, smiling appropriately at Justin and Allison—who hadn’t bothered picking me up for school. She knew where to find Oliver now. No need to stalk my house at dawn when she could take her time primping and corner him in the hallway. I didn’t mind. Allison was a lot of personality to take at seven in the morning, and I had things on my mind. I wanted to walk.

The walk to school had been peaceful. The night had been torture. I’d woken twice before dawn to images of the design on Liam’s chest. Seeing the symbols I’d long associated with a cemetery etched into his skin had triggered something in me. The unsettling connection buzzed in my tired mind, creating vivid dreams and obliterating any possibility of actual rest. I wrestled with thoughts of the mark. I imagined it glowing green beyond my window, calling me into the darkness, the cemetery or Hale Manor, I hadn’t been sure. Hadn’t cared. I wasn’t leaving the safety of my bed and Chester. I was afraid of getting too close in my dream. Reality was another story.

I watched for Liam in the crowds and waited for him to speak to me in class. To my dismay, Liam didn’t make eye contact with me in Ohio History and he ditched lunch. Did he realize joining swim team meant interacting with real live people?

Justin handed me my book bag outside study hall after lunch, a hopeful but pensive look in his eyes. “Can I drive you home?”

“I’m swimming again tonight.”

“Gotcha. Text me after?”

“Yeah.” I lifted my right elbow and Justin bumped his into mine. We hadn’t done that since middle school, but the urge to remind him of our long years of friendship burst forth. He smiled widely at our private exchange. A right elbow bump was once the secret handshake to our exclusive cowboy club. We’d held meetings in the last pony stall of his parents’ stable and his mom delivered sweet tea and peanut butter sandwiches. Delivered. She hadn’t stayed because she didn’t know the handshake.

I headed to the row of computers in the back of the library, hoping for an available one. On the walk to school, I’d decided to spend study hall completing scholarship applications, instead of counting books and thinking of a boy who wouldn’t even look at me in public. The last available computer was beside the one Liam occupied. Of course.

I held my chin high and sat, completely indifferent to his proximity. I entered my student identification number right away and started my scholarship search as a small crowd entered the library. I hooked a chunk of hair behind my ear, removing the veil between my eyes and the computer screen. Time for concentration.

Something hot and wet coursed over my ear.

“Gah!” I straightened, wiping my ear with both palms.

Kirk leaned over me, one hand braced on the back of my chair, the other on the desk in front of me. “Hey, sexy. You miss me yet?”

“No.” I fumed, humiliated. Again.

Mr. Heaver strode across the room to the librarian’s desk. Three students stood behind him. One disgusting stalker breathed into my hair. “These four missed my Chemistry exam Monday and need to make it up.”

Kirk nuzzled his nose against my neck. “Yes, you do.” His breath was hot and sticky, probably laced with spit from Hannah’s tongue. “You like being licked. I remember. It wasn’t that long ago, Callie.” He ran a finger across my jaw and I slapped it away.

He chuckled, proud to have incited a reaction. I lifted my booted foot and brought a two-inch chunky heel down on his toe.

“Bitch!”

Everyone gasped and looked in our direction.

“Kirk stubbed his toe,” I announced.

Mr. Heaver leveled his gaze on Kirk. “Language, Mr. Fennel.”

Kirk snarled. “If my toe’s broken and I can’t practice tonight, you’ll be sorry.”

I responded loud enough for our spectators to hear. “You should be more careful.”

“I fucking hate you,” he whispered, limping away.

In my periphery, Liam’s shoulders moved up and down. I assumed he laughed at me but I refused to acknowledge his response.

Across the room, Kirk glared with narrow, hate-filled eyes.

I turned to Liam, blocking Kirk from my mind and curious about what Liam was up to online. Completing scholarship applications like me? Did rich Icelandic kids need scholarship money? A dark site with strange markings in the banner and a bearded man carrying a staff filled his screen. Liam’s position obscured half the site’s title, but the man with the beard was Zeus. I’d recognize him anywhere, thanks to Mom’s former preoccupation with mythology. When Liam saw me looking, he shut the window.

What Liam had learned about me today: I liked being licked. I was still nosey and mildly violent.

Liam tilted his head in Kirk’s direction. “I heard that about you.”

“You heard I wasted two years of my life on an ear-licking moron?”

“No. You have a quick temper.”

Not what I’d expected. How perplexing. Did I have a quick temper? I glanced at Kirk. I’d lost patience with him because he was disgusting and provoked me relentlessly. “Everything he says is a lie.”

Did other people say that about me? How many Callie Ingram rumors had Liam been exposed to already? Ridiculous.

“Pity.” Liam’s voice was low, so low I almost missed the word. Pity.

I cocked an eyebrow and reversed through Kirk’s smart-ass comments, wondering what Liam thought was a pity. My mind locked on Kirk’s most humiliating words. He’d said I liked being licked. My face heated and Liam chuckled.

I faced him in an outward challenge. “You should know what it’s like. I’m not the only one buried in gossip.” If he’d heard things about me, surely he’d heard the things people said about his family.

His playful expression turned solemn.

“Sorry,” I whispered, turning back to my screen. It wasn’t nice to remind him of the awful rumors surrounding his sudden appearance or his family history. Maybe I did have a quick temper.

“I guess we have gossip in common. Sounds like the makings of a true friendship.”

I slid my gaze his way. My chest expanded in a sudden intake of breath. Liam wore a devastatingly handsome half-smile. A surge of energy coursed through me. I’d made him smile.

I rubbed nerve-slicked palms against my jeans. “I’ve bonded over worse things.”

“Do tell.” Liam anchored an elbow on the table and lowered his chin into his palm, batting long black lashes. I assumed this was his impression of a girl. I shoved his elbow off the table and his head dipped.

“Feisty, isn’t she.” Kirk approached with a slight limp and an evil look of jealousy, quite a fierce protector of his “sloppy seconds.”

I scanned the room for our librarian, who was nowhere to be found, and braced myself for whatever crap Kirk had come to deliver. Mr. Heaver had gone back to his class after giving Kirk and the other test takers their instructions. Liam was silent at my side.

“You should see her in the sack.” Kirk directed his stupidity at Liam this time. “Feisty there, too.”

“You dumped me because I wouldn’t get in your sack, remember?” I turned in my seat to face him and came too close for comfort with his waistband. I stood, popping a hip and squaring my shoulders. He was going to see feisty. “Which is it smart guy? Am I a total slut or am I a prude? You’ll have to decide because your constant contradictions don’t make any sense. I can’t be both, now can I? Or hadn’t that occurred to you?”

He laughed. “Relax, Callie. It’s okay if you want to spend your life as a virgin. Just don’t expect some guy to put up with it any longer than I did. You ruined a good thing. That’s all on you.”

My fingers balled into tight fists. “I plan to have lots of sex, Kirk, just never with you this side of a roofie.”

Snickers echoed through the quiet library, and I gritted my teeth against the embarrassment. Why did our every exchange need to be public and hostile? Why couldn’t I ever keep my mouth shut? Kirk looked around the room, maybe to egg his audience on, maybe checking for the teacher or his absent crew.

He leaned into my space, growling in my face. “You’re such a raging bitch, Callie.”

“No. I believe you’re thinking of the rash Hannah gave you. That’s the only thing raging around here.”

He curled his fingertips over my shoulders in a flash, stopping the blood flow beneath them.

“Let her go.” Liam spoke in a gravelly voice. The words blew down over the top of my hair. How tall was he? Kirk looked over my head. He pulled his lips back over his teeth like an animal.

“Back off, Hale. Sit your little Swedish ass down before I teach you the rules here.”

“I won’t tell you again.” Liam sounded serious.

I ached to warn him, but emotion strangled me. Kirk didn’t fight fair and he fought often. Whatever happened next wouldn’t be good and I had no way to stop it. Defeat and desperation fought for position in my muddled brain.

Kirk’s grip loosened on my shoulders. The muscle in his jaw twitched. A vein in his neck bulged blue. Fear for Liam replaced my concern for the bruises raising on my shoulders.

Kirk stepped around me, dropping his hands in a palms-up come-at-me motion.

Liam matched Kirk’s move. “He doesn’t like that you dumped him and he’s not ready to let you go so easily. He says whatever will make you angry, just to get a response—which you give too freely.”

I scoffed. Worst. Hero. Ever. “Excuse me?”

Liam continued speaking to me; his attention wholly focused on Kirk. “I suspect he regrets losing you and has dejectedly accepted public harassment as a way to remain in your life. It serves a secondary purpose as well, by warning off other potential suitors.”

“And you think I respond
too freely
?” I spat his words back at him.

“Your heated responses fuel the fire.”

For a moment, I wasn’t sure who I wanted to hit more.

Kirk moved forward, balling his hands into fists. Rage contorted his features, reminding me of the very real fight brewing.

Liam leered at Kirk. “Thank the gods. Are you finally out of words?”

Pleas crammed their way out of my mouth in a jumbled heap. “Don’t. Liam. Stop. He’s not worth a suspension on your second day. Forget about him. Let it go.” Much as I wanted to smack him for his insinuation I provided fuel for Kirk’s idiocy, I didn’t want to see him suspended.

“Nope.”

I blinked. What? Nope? Who was this guy?

“I’d listen to her, chap.” Kirk sucked his teeth, pleased at the only foreign expression he’d probably ever heard. One they probably never used outside of old movies.

Liam placed his hand on the small of my back as he repositioned himself between me and my bully.

“Callie’s my new friend.” An edge of possessiveness darkened the shocking statement. “You shouldn’t provoke my friends.”

Kirk dropped his head back and barked a laugh. I tilted my head back for a better look at Liam’s face. Did he not just insult me five seconds ago? The students all stared, texting rapidly in their seats.

Kirk repeated his orders. “I told you to sit down.”

“Nope.”

I smirked. Nope was strangely funny in the face of Kirk’s wrath.

Kirk dropped his gaze to me and pursed his lips. He shot a long arm out to grab me again, but Liam knocked it away midair. A gasp rolled over our crowd.

“Don’t touch her.”

“Fine.” Kirk shoved the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “Maybe a good country ass kicking will teach you a lesson, chap.”

Again with the chap.

Liam punched Kirk in the head without warning and his chin flipped upward. Kirk stumbled backward. Awkwardly regaining balance, he dove for Liam. I jumped out of the way, tangling my feet in the legs of my chair. I went down on the floor beside them.

“Mr. Hale! Mr. Fennel!” The librarian screamed. I hadn’t seen her return. “Stop it this instant!” She banged her palm on the little silver service bell at her desk. “Someone get the principal.” She stomped across the floor to where the guys were throttling one another. She rapped them on the heads with a green plastic fly swatter until they disengaged their limbs and stood like two fighters torn apart at an MMA match.