Pretty Dark Nothing (3 page)

“I’m full, thanks.” Aaron breathed deeply, ready to take the plunge. He’d do it this time. Talk to her, ask her out.

“Why waste another day on Quinn with so many hotties running around? Jenna’s crushin’ on you. She’s hotness personified, and you two have a lot in common: music, the band, and those raging hormones.”

“Jenna’s just a friend.”

Fifteen steps at the most.

“What about Marie? Oh, oh, Marie, now there’s a fine one. She’d give you a little something.” Marcus cleared his throat and put on his best Marie impression. “Oh, Aaron, he’s so mysterious and good looking.” He clasped Aaron’s shoulder, regaining his usual deep tone. “She called you man-candy. Can you believe it? You’re not as sweet as me, of course. I mean, I’m Godiva chocolate, and you, well, you’re more like a Goober.”

Ten long strides, twenty short ones.

“How come you never ask any of them out? I know a few who are a sure thing,” Marcus said.

“Sure, Mr. Virgin. All talk and no action.” Aaron punched Marcus on the shoulder.

“Hey, not so loud. You’ll ruin my image.” Marcus looked around like he was paranoid someone had overheard, and then winked at Aaron. “Dude, you could have a different girl every week, and you choose to be single. What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”

“Yeah, unless it’s Quinn. Besides, who said anything about a girlfriend? I’m talking about seven minutes in Heaven, man, not commitment.”

“I have other things to think about. Like family, grades, college.” Aaron looked at his watch.
Come on feet, move.

“Yeah, and I’ve got a leprechaun living in my locker. You suck at lying. I will admit, she is seriously F I N E, fine.” Marcus paused and studied Aaron. “Wait. You’re serious? Were you actually about to ask her out? Is that why your shirt’s tucked in?” Marcus sniffed Aaron’s neck. “Dude, how much cologne did you put on this morning?”

“Shut up.” Aaron untucked his shirt and mussed his hair. Looking like a poser was the last thing he wanted.

“Man, I didn’t know you were serious. Forget what I said about her being damaged. If you really want her, I’ve got your back. Quinn is sure to need a little comforting. If you know what I mean.” Marcus puckered up and made kissing noises.

“I was planning my move when your big mouth interrupted me.” Aaron slumped against the locker. “Anyway, it’s too late now.” Aaron gestured down the hall where Quinn had been joined by a group of friends.

“You gonna let them stop you? You say Quinn’s not perfect, but you act like she’s the only girl in the world. Grow some and get your butt over there.”

“I don’t even know what to say to her. Everything I think of sucks.” Aaron rolled the plectrum he carried across his knuckles and back again, like an old magician’s coin trick.

“All right, as the ladies man of Westland High, I’ll coach you.”

“Right, Cyrano, let’s hear it.”

“Walk up to her, put your arm around her shoulder, smile, and say,” Marcus paused for dramatic effect. “Quinn, you rock my world.”

Aaron laughed.

“What’s so funny?” Marcus crossed his arms over his chest. “The girls go crazy for that line.”

“Seriously, you can’t tell me it actually works. I bet you’ve never even used it.”

“Oh, that hurts.” Marcus grabbed his chest in mock pain. “I bagged a set of mega-fine twins last week with that line.”

“You’re mistaking your fantasies for reality.” Aaron shoved the plectrum back into his pocket where it belonged.

Marcus shrugged. “So I’ve never used that line before, but trust me. It’s foolproof.”

“Prove it. Teresa Moon’s with Quinn. I dare you to lay that foolproof line on her right now.”

“No problem, man. Watch the master at work. She’ll be
mine
in no
time
.” Marcus slicked back his brown hair and flashed his best smile at Aaron. “Well, let’s go. I’m not going alone.”

Fourteen steps.

Aaron regretted the dare. Now, he’d have to talk to her.

Ten.

He couldn’t just stand there like a dummy at a sideshow.

Nine.

Sure, he’d talked to her before.

Eight.

But things were different now. She and Jeff weren’t together anymore.

Seven.

And that meant he might have a chance.

***

Three tries and Quinn still couldn’t get her combination to land on the right numbers. She looked over her shoulder. Her doppelgangers had disappeared, but the feeling of being watched hadn’t.

The puzzle didn’t fit. They had always been nightmares. Not show-up-in-broad-daylight-to-scare-you-while-you’re-awake mares. She must’ve dozed while waiting for Jeff and Kerstin to finish making out, waking when the bell rang. It’s the only explanation.

She jiggled the locker handle and tried again. Fourth time’s a charm. Her locker opened with its usual squeak. Books with different colored covers stood in row. She replaced the literature book in the empty space next to calculus and pulled her thick French book from between chemistry and economics. Something tapped her shoulder. She whirled around to find Kerstin standing in front of her with her hands behind her back and a smirk on her face.

“What do you want?”

“I found this in Jeff’s locker.” Kerstin thrust a red, heart-shaped frame at Quinn. “He doesn’t want it anymore.”

Quinn grabbed the picture.

“Thanks, Kerstin. It’s so sweet of you to think of my feelings.” Quinn threw as much sarcasm into her voice as she could.

“It’s the least I can do, Q.T.” Kerstin shot her a mocking smile.

“Only my friends call me that.”

“What? We’re not friends?” Kerstin covered her mouth in feigned shock. “I’m hurt.” She pouted. “But I’ll get over it. See you at practice. Oh, wait, I forgot, you’re ‘taking a break.’ At least you should have plenty of time to study. Coach White asked me to step in as captain in your absence.” She waited for the news to sink in. “What? No witty repartee? I’ll turn the other cheek.” She turned and stuck her right cheek out, baiting Quinn. It almost worked.

“No? Pity. I would love to be captain permanently.” Kerstin cocked a smile then slinked down the hall. “Have a nice day,” she called over her shoulder, a last dig.

“Yeah, you too.”

Quinn traced the frame with her index finger. Her favorite picture of the two of them stared back at her. Jeff, tall and blond, wore the purple and red Westland High colors. A mustang blazed across his chest. Quinn stood beside him, dwarfed by his six foot, two-inch frame. She’d always felt safe in his arms.

“Four years,” she muttered to the picture as if it were Jeff in the flesh. “I trusted you. What do you see in her, anyway? God, I wish cameras had never been invented.” Quinn threw the picture frame into the back of her locker, slamming it shut.

“Hey. What’s itching you this morning?” Teresa linked her arm through Quinn’s. “Let me guess. Kerstin?”

“She’s like a rash that won’t go away,” Quinn said. “Seriously, Reese, sometimes I want to punch the freckles right off her nose.”

“I get that.” Teresa pulled Quinn into a hug. “But she’s really not worth it.”

“Easy for you to say. She didn’t steal your boyfriend.”

“You can’t steal a guy that doesn’t want to be stolen.” Teresa brushed her long, black hair out of her face. “Besides, that was over two months ago. You would think rubbing it in your face would get old by now. When did she turn into such a bitch?”

“The day she was born,” Quinn said.

“Hey, Q.T.! Reese!” Ami bounded across the hall, her arms full of books, eyes flashing. “Want to hear the latest?” Ami launched into tell-all mode before either had time to answer. “Well, I just heard from Tyra who heard from Ashley that Marie is desperately in love with Aaron Collier. Do you blame her? He’s so cute. I wouldn’t mind going out with him. If I weren’t dating Jordan, of course.”

Ami grinned, shuffled the books in her arms, pushed her Gucci glasses back up her nose, and took a huge breath.

“Have you seen the motorcycle Aaron rides? And his earring? I’ve been trying to get more info on him for Marie, but he’s
mucho misterioso
. A year of living in Westland, but nobody seems to know much about him. Marcus told Marie that Aaron lives with his dad and brother over on Oakmont, but he’s never been invited over. Not the greatest neighborhood. Maybe he’s too embarrassed to have anyone over, or maybe he’s an axe murderer. And Marcus says he’s in a band. A sexy, hot, axe murderer-musician. Oh, it gets my blood pumping! Anyway, Marie really wants him to ask her to homecoming, but he doesn’t seem interested. Are you listening to me?” Ami followed Quinn’s gaze across the hall. Jeff and Kerstin’s lips were locked together in a serious smooch fest.

“Can you believe them? Don’t they ever come up for air? Get a room!” Reese yelled at the tongue wrestlers. “He’s such an ass. You should be glad you’re not with him anymore.”

Reese and Ami moved in front of Quinn to block her view, but between now and this morning, the image had already burned itself into her memory. A dull ache started behind her right eye, rapidly spreading across her forehead. Quinn rubbed her temple and leaned against the locker, too tired to care.

“Yeah, totally forget about them!” Ami added. “Kerstin will never be able to replace you. Yeah, she’s with Jeff now, and Coach White did appoint her as cheerleading captain while you’re on academic probation, but … ”

“Who told you that?” Reese snapped.

“Nobody. It’s not that hard to figure out. Coach White says it’s because you’re overstressed, but everyone knows that’s code for academic probation. What happened, Quinn? You always get straight A’s. I mean, I know you’re having a bad year with the whole Kerstin stealing your boyfriend thing, but—”

“I don’t think you’re helping.” Reese poked Ami to shut her up.

It was true; Ami wasn’t helping. God, she wanted to disappear. On top of that, everywhere Quinn turned, there were Jeff and Kerstin, fondling one another. Her energy ebbed, and her lids grew heavy, the conversation between Ami and Reese a lulling rhythm. She closed her eyes for a second.

Fog seeped from the lockers and folded itself around her, cloaking her in overwhelming doom. Ami and Reese’s voices sounded miles away. Their forms, eclipsed by misty darkness, faded in and out of her vision. She focused on the black-and-white tiles of the hallway floor, hoping to steady herself.

Not now. Not now. Focus, Quinn, focus on the tiles.
But they swirled together, turning as gray as the mist that surrounded her.

She tried to fight, tried to reach out for her friends, tried to scream—anything to escape the drowning feeling. The floor came closer now. The cool, black-and-white tiles rushed up to soothe her troubled mind.

CHAPTER THREE

“Hey, girls. What’s up?” Marcus waved as he and Aaron made their way through the crowd.

Reese waved back, but Aaron focused on Quinn. She stood between Ami and Reese, eyes closed, face drained of color. She swayed side-to-side, like a skyscraper in the middle of an earthquake. Any minute she would topple.

Quinn’s knees buckled. Aaron took two giant steps toward her, pushing a helpless freshman out of the way. He scooped her in his arms before her head hit the floor. The lunch chatter, the movement in the hallway, everything around him slowed. Ami stopped mid-sentence, Reese mid-wave.

The second his skin met hers, a familiar tingling gathered in the front of his brain, a flash and then the lightning strike. Before he had time to shut her out, a wave of intense fear washed through him, nearly knocking him over. Instead, he fell against the lockers and gritted his teeth, struggling to force a barrier, a psychic wall, between them.

“Dude!” Marcus’s voice brought Aaron back to reality, and Quinn’s fear became a low hum in the back of his brain, the tingle dissipating.

He sank to the floor, cradling her head in his lap. “Go get Mrs. Chin,” he said to the small crowd gathered around them before he bent his head to her lips. Relief washed over him as Quinn’s breath warmed his cheek. “Quinn, can you hear me?”

He closed his eyes, brushed his lips against her forehead, and loosened the grip on his ability. Releasing a tendril of light through the barrier, he focused on being calm, projecting love and security to Quinn. Slowly, the tingling gathered in the front of his brain, a spark, and then a blinding flash as he opened himself up to her unconscious.

Quinn’s face appeared in his mind. Pale and shadowed, she smiled as she screamed. Her pain, anger, desire, defeat, exhaustion, and fear flooded him at once. He fought to regain control, to quell her emotions and restore balance, but no matter how hard he tried, her emotions overwhelmed him. He switched tactics and tried to restore the barrier before he reached sensory overload, but it was too late. He was enthralled by the power of the connection.

Quinn’s face morphed until one face superimposed itself over the other. The skin pulsed and changed second by second from serene and beautiful, to screaming and alien as her features contorted, and her blue eyes faded to gold and back to blue again as if something tried to break though. A black mass pushed past the serenity. It thrashed and clawed, ripping at her flesh from the inside out as Quinn fought against the dark creature within. Suddenly, her expression settled back to a smile as blood tears trickled down her cheeks.

“Help me,” she mouthed before morphing again.

The dark entity inside Quinn locked its golden eyes on Aaron. “You!” It hissed and leapt toward him, its form twisting into an indistinct, faceless mist.

Aaron forced all his energy toward it, and the shade erupted in a ball of light. The cord connecting him to Quinn snapped. He slammed the door of the barrier, and the sparks retreated. His heart raced, and he pulled his lips away from Quinn’s forehead. He’d never felt anything that intense; nothing unwanted had been able to get through his barriers since he’d learned control.

He had no idea how long he had been gripped by Quinn’s nightmare. Seconds? Minutes? Long enough to have gathered a large crowd. He could only imagine what he looked like, bent over Quinn with his lips on her forehead. Like a freak.