Twisted Sisters (The Orion Circle Book 2) (2 page)

“You ready to go to lunch?”

“Wait,” I call out to his retreating form. “I’ve never kissed anyone on stage before.”

“It’s just me, Cici,” he says without turning.

“It’s just… rehearsals are hard. The house lights are up, and I can’t lose myself in my character,” I admit with a dry chuckle. “It’s going to be Kacie Ramsey on that stage kissing Daniel Westin in front at least fifty witnesses.”

“Yeah, I have the same problem.” Daniel turns back to face me. “Did you want to practice first? Get the awkwardness out of the way?”

“Now?” He read my mind. “Yes, I think it would help.”

Without a word he crosses the room to stand within inches of me, as close as he can get without touching. Unsure what to do or say, I stare at our feet. We’re both wearing black hiking boots. They’re kind of an Orion Circle staple.

“I had a crush on you last year.” My hand flies to cover my mouth. I can’t believe I just admitted that.

“I know,” he replies, placing his finger under my chin to tilt my head up. All traces of the sarcastic Daniel I’m used to are gone. Instead I see vulnerability in his gray eyes. “Do you know why I never acted on it?”

“Acted on it?” I ask with a gasp. “You mean you liked me?”

“Oh, yeah,” he replies, his lips turning up into a half-smile. “You are adorable with that dusting of freckles across your nose, those big, hazel eyes, and your panicked shyness that disappears the moment you hit the stage.”

My breath catches in my throat. That entire time I pined for him, I had no idea he liked me too. I open my mouth to ask why he never acted on it but nothing comes out. My mind is wrenched back to that one moment in time when I made an ass of myself at the cast party. I tried to kiss him. He shot me down. Nicely. But still it hurt.

“My best friend had a major crush on you,” he says, answering my unspoken question.

“Logan?”

He nods. “Logan certainly didn’t come to all of those rehearsals to stare at me.” Daniel’s laughter is musical, and just like that the tension fades away.

“Logan liked me last year?” I ask, unable to stop the smile spreading across my face. “Why didn’t he tell me?”

“He was too shy,” Daniel replies with a snort. “And no amount of prodding on my part could convince him. You and Logan are meant to be together. You need each other, and as corny as this sounds, I think you complete each other. Certainly when it comes to psychic power. You and me? It would have been wild and passionate and burned up as fast as it started. I liked you far too much to lose you as a friend for the sake of a few kisses.”

“Oh, Daniel.” My eyes tear up from his frank admission. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you as a friend.” Just the thought makes my chest hurt.

“You won’t, so don’t even think about it,” he replies. “Now shut up and kiss me.”

His comment makes me laugh. “Thanks.”

“For what?”

“Making me feel better,” I say, pushing on his chest. “For always being there for me.”

“Are you gonna kiss me or keep talking?”

“Why don’t you take the lead?” I ask, stalling for time.
Can I do this?

“It says in the script that you initiate the kiss,” he says, shaking his head. “You think Mr. Holmes will allow me to lead this party?”

No. Mr. Holmes is one tough director. He would make me kiss Daniel hundreds of times if it wasn’t done to his satisfaction. I don’t know if he’s a perfectionist, a sadist, or both. Taking a deep breath, I rest my hands on Daniel’s chest. There’s too much of a height difference. Even standing on my toes it’s hard to reach past his chin. Why isn’t he helping? Moving my hand to the nape of his neck, I guide his head down toward mine. Our lips meet in a chaste kiss. Just as I’m about to pull away and yell at him, he responds to the kiss. His lips move beneath mine for a few moments before he pulls away.

“Again,” he says. “This time put your arms around my neck. Your character is an experienced night club singer and no virgin. Act like it. My character won’t react immediately. That doesn’t deter you, it just makes you bolder. Once my arms encircle you, count to five slowly, then pull away. Got it?”

I nod, determined to get this right. If we do it perfect the first time then Mr. Holmes won’t have us repeat it. It will feel so good to blow those asshats and their stupid betting pool out of the water.

“How come not one of the options featured us acing the kiss at the rehearsal?”

“Because that would be no fun for the hecklers, jokers, and assholes who thrive on the suffering of others,” he replies with a snort. “Now are you going to kiss me or not? I’m hungry and want to get to lunch before the line gets too long.”

Once again I place both hands on Daniel’s chest. Rising to my tiptoes, I snake my arms around his neck and press my lips to his. He responds much faster this time, wrapping his arms around my back. His lips are soft and pliant beneath mine. The kiss is very pleasant. My body likes it, and yet my mind is counting to five like I was told. Just before I pull back, I hear what sounds like the door clicking shut. When I turn to look, no one is there. Must have been my imagination.

“Now that was a kiss worthy of the stage,” Daniel says with a brash grin. “Come on, let’s get some lunch. I have a feeling rehearsal will go just fine.”

Chapter Two — Aftermath

Chapter Two

Aftermath

Logan

Poor Kacie. The gossip flying around school today must be killing her. When she doesn’t answer my texts, I decide to go search for her. It’s not like there are many places she’d go to hide out. Only one comes to mind. It’s where we all go during the school day to escape. The Orion Circle club room. After bounding up three flights of stairs, I pull out my key and open the door.

The moment I step into the doorway, I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I watch for a moment or two as my stomach plummets like a falling elevator. My chest hurts, and I can’t seem to catch my breath. Without a sound, I back away and let the door close softly.
Click
.

It couldn’t be, and yet I saw it with my own eyes. If anyone else told me, I would’ve accused them of lying. Closing my eyes, I lean my forehead against the wall beside the door. The vision of them wrapped in a tight embrace is seared into my mind. Shaking my head as though it would erase the image, I try to find a rational explanation. But there isn’t one.
Is there?
My best friend and my girlfriend were making out. Damn them. I can’t believe I was worried about her, about how nervous she’d feel about kissing Daniel at rehearsal.

With a strangled groan I race down the stairs and out into the cool air. How long have they been doing this behind my back? My jaw clenches and my teeth gnash together. Damn, this hurts. Maybe I should go back and confront them…

I start to turn around, prepared to do just that but stop mid-motion. No, I have to cool off first. If I go in there now, they’ll know how upset I am. Right now I’d like nothing better than to use Daniel’s face as my own personal punching bag. Asshole deserves it. See how much the girls like him with two black eyes and a broken nose, maybe some missing teeth.

“Hey, Logan,” a voice says behind me. “Are you heading to the cafeteria?”

Raven. Craptastic.

“No, I’m going to the gym to work out,” I reply, looking over my shoulder.

Her frosty, blue eyes narrow into a glare. “You know, Kacie could use your support today.”

“I think Kacie found all the support she needs elsewhere,” I bite out before storming away.

Raven calls my name several times but doesn’t chase after me. Thank God it wasn’t Rebecca or we’d still be arguing. When I reach the locker room, I change into my workout clothes with a lot more banging than necessary. Hitting the lockers feels good. My foot connects with the lower locker. I can’t find my blasted sparring gloves. With a groan I remember that I loaned them to Daniel. Figures. I grab the boxing tape and tape up my knuckles. I’d go without it, but if a coach catches me, I’d have my gym privileges suspended.

Stomping into the weight room, I almost let out a growl of frustration. Sam is at the heavy weight bag I need. None of the others are strong enough to handle my fury. I could try lifting, but I think I’m too restless to bother. Sam meets my gaze. His eyes widen, and he scurries away to the smaller teardrop bag. Hell, that’s more his speed anyway.

The first punches I throw are hard but controlled. After a while, I settle into a rhythm of punches and kicks. The sounds around me melt away until all I hear is the slap of the bag against my hands and feet. It isn’t until some sweat rolls into my eye that I come back to my senses. Wiping a hand across my forehead, I head to the locker room. After a quick shower, I dress and pull out my phone, steeling myself against the texts I know are there. Text after text telling me what a jerk I am for ditching Kacie. Not a single:
hey, Logan, are you okay?
The nastiest text is from Daniel. Hell I’d almost believe I didn’t see what I know I saw based on his words.

Where the hell r u? Cici needs you.
Ten minutes later:
U know things r crap, Get ur ass to lunch!
Five minutes later:
GFY.

I collapse to the metal bench and open Kacie’s texts.

R u ok?
Followed by:
Where are u?
They continue about every minute or so, ten texts in all. Kacie hates texting. She must really be worried. My icy heart melts a bit, but then I remember how she looked in his arms, her lips locked with his. Damn her. How much can she possibly care when she can sneak around with him behind my back?

Only one voicemail, and it’s from her.

“Logan, where are you? Is everything okay? I’m worried. Raven said you were really upset about something. Angry. Please call me.”

I delete the message. Her voice was almost frantic. Let her stew. Maybe she’ll figure it out on her own. The bell rings, but instead of heading to class, I decide to skip the rest of the day. I can’t go to class and pretend everything is okay. Not when I feel like someone ripped my heart out and stomped it into dust. As I near my car, I curse under my breath.

Crows cover my Mustang. At least ten, maybe twenty. Why are Kacie’s familiars hanging around me? I try to shoo them away, but they ignore my shout and waving arms. The largest, Kacie’s special bird named Poe, sits on the roof of the car staring at me. Its unblinking gaze is unnerving. The bird watches me as I open the car door, putting my face within inches of its feathered body. I half expect it to attack, but it allows me to get into the car without incident.

Throwing the stick into reverse, I peel out of the parking space, my tires squealing on the pavement. The birds take flight, swirling around the car in a black mass before taking off into the sky. Slamming into first gear, I speed through the lot way too fast. The throaty roar of the engine is soothing, and for a brief moment I feel better. Then I’m forced to stop for a red light, and the bitterness returns full force. Turning on the radio, I switch the station to Octane and crank up the volume.

The drive home is nothing but a blur of movement and loud music. As I turn onto my street my heart lurches. Mom’s Escalade is parked in the drive. She knows. Of course she knows. I’ve been broadcasting my emotions loud and clear. Mom’s always had a knack for knowing when I need her‌—‌even across town. The front door opens, and she walks outside. Without a word, she comes to my side, placing her arm around my shoulders. I watch in silence as Kacie’s crows land on my car, taking up their previous positions like I never left the school.
What does it mean?
They’ve never followed me around before.

“What happened, honey?” Mom asks in a soft voice. When I don’t answer, she points to the birds. “Is there a reason that you know of for this display?”

“No.”

One word. It’s all I can get out through the lump in my throat. Being around Mom makes me want to fall into her arms and cry. I refuse to cry. Not over them. They don’t deserve it.

“It’s an omen,” she murmurs as she leads me toward the front door. “They know something is going to happen to you. Your closeness to Kacie makes them almost your familiars as well.”

“Kacie and I are through,” I bite out, pushing the front door so hard it slams against the wall.

“The birds don’t think so.”

“Screw the birds!”

I throw my backpack to the floor and stomp into the kitchen. My stomach growls, though I don’t really feel like eating. Mom walks in, the picture of calm beside my seething rage. Without a word she pulls out a can of tomato soup and lights the stove.

“Do you want a grilled cheese too?” she asks as though I didn’t just scream at a flock of birds.

I open my mouth to say no, but instead mumble, “Yes, please.”

She putters around the kitchen humming softly while I slump on a barstool at the counter. My head falls to my hands. I let it rest there while watching Mom, and listening to her soothing humming. It’s an old Celtic tune, one she sang to me when I was little. Inch by inch, I feel my muscles unclench. The tension seeps from my body, and I feel empty. Drained. The aroma of tomato soup teases my nose, and my stomach twists in rebellion. I still don’t think I can eat.