The bite of the blade stung as it sliced across my throat, hot liquid poured down the front of my suit. NO! I couldn’t breathe; everything was getting dark. Terror ripped through me. My Charlotte, my Rose! I was sinking into the dark...

I woke up gasping, my heart slamming in my chest. Still mostly asleep, I scrambled back until my back hit the wall. Pain knifed through my body, stealing my breath and waking me up instantly. I froze, still gasping. I searched the room looking for movement. When I found nothing, I took deep breaths and tried to calm myself down. I pulled my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them. What the hell had that nightmare been about? I couldn’t remember the details, only that my throat was cut before I woke up.

I held myself until I could finally calm down. I hate when this happens. George’s death was hanging around in the back of my mind. It happened after every ghost I talked to.

I ran my hand through my hair and looked at the alarm clock. It was 6 am. I had finally gotten to sleep after midnight--six hours of sleep were the best I ever managed. Knowing I wasn’t going back to sleep, I got out of bed and headed to the bathroom. Only to find the door shut. I gave a light knock in case the door was only closed.

“I’m in here!” Tara’s shrill voice was loud through the door.

Okay, I’ll wait.

I went back to my bedroom, leaving the door open to keep an eye on the door. I made my bed and pulled my clothes together for the day. I folded my PE clothes and stuffed them into my messenger bag along with my new sneakers. Still, no Tara. Sighing, I headed downstairs in my pajamas and went to the kitchen. I finished making my lunch, took it upstairs, and put it in my bag. Still no Tara.

I looked at the clock; it was 6:30, I needed to get in the shower. I grabbed my bathroom kit and walked into the hall. This time I knocked harder on the door. The door opened to Tara, dressed, with a makeup brush in her hand. Was she doing her makeup? Really?

“I need to take a shower,” I told her calmly.

Tara waved her hand at me.

“Then you need to take one at night. I’m doing my makeup,” she told me, her voice condescending.

My temper sparked.

“You can do makeup in your room. I can only shower in there,” I pointed out, managing to keep my voice calm.

Tara snorted at me and tried to close the door.

Oh hell no. I jammed my shoulder hard against door. Tara lost her grip, the momentum slamming the door into the wall. She gaped at me.

I kept my calm as I walked past her toward the shower. “Now, you have a choice, Tara.” I dropped my flannel bottoms and underwear. “I’m taking a shower, then I’m going to use the toilet.” I pulled off my shirt, dropping it to the floor. I opened the shower and stepped in. “You can either stay and continue to do your makeup while I do that. Or you can go into your bedroom to finish.” I turned the hot water on, adjusted the temperature, then turned the shower on.

Tara huffed and slammed the door behind her. I smiled, enjoying my little victory.

I took a minute to let the water run over my bruises, easing the tightness in my back. I washed up quickly, making sure to use Tara’s conditioner on my hair since I didn’t have any of my own yet. I pulled a towel off the glass door of the shower before I did my usual morning routine, and then went back in my room. It took only 10 minutes, not bad. I quickly dried off, grabbed my clothes, and got ready.

I ended up wearing my favorite pair of blue boot-cut jeans, a gray V-neck, long sleeved shirt along with my usual black army boots. I took the time to pull on my worn black grommet belt. My long, curly, copper hair was back in a ponytail reaching my mid back. My heart shaped face, I thought, was pretty but nothing spectacular. My skin was porcelain pale like most redheads. But my eyes were pretty unusual. My eyes were a mix of dark green and light green, with gold flecks mixed in. Next to my pale skin, they really popped. My makeup was natural; only eyeshadow, black eyeliner, and mascara. A redhead never left the house without mascara and sunscreen on.

I checked the time as I finished rubbing in the sunscreen; 7:15. Thankfully, I still had time for breakfast. I grabbed my wallet off the desk, tucked it into my back-right pocket, and my cell phone into my bra. I grabbed my black leather jacket and my messenger bag, then hurried downstairs. I dumped them on the couch and went over to the kitchen.

I was eating a bowl of cereal when Tara showed up. She looked like she just stepped out of a magazine. Her straight blonde hair was down to her shoulders. Her makeup was heavy for my taste, but it was well done. She wore a pink sweater that reached her mid-thigh, and black leggings that disappeared into tan knee-high, lace up boots. She carried a white infinity scarf and a tan leather purse that I swear said Dolce and Gabbana. Did she go to all this trouble for school? I don’t get it. It’s school, not a photo shoot. I liked to look good, but I wasn’t going to bend over backwards to do it. I went back to my cereal.

“You’re going to have to park on the street,” Tara said, breaking the silence.

I took my bowl and rinsed it out in the sink before turning back to her.

Tara’s eyes ran over my clothes. Her mouth opened like she wanted to say something. I looked down at my clothes, too, thinking I’d spilled milk on my shirt. Nope, clean. I looked back to Tara, an eyebrow raised.

Tara gave me a tense smile. “The spots in the student lot are assigned at the beginning of the year.”

I shrugged. Parking on the street didn’t bother me.

“Got any suggestions?” I asked, hoping to ease the tension in the room.

She tilted her head, her eyes narrowed. She seemed to be thinking.

“I’d try by the tennis courts on Douglas. They’re probably your best chance.” With that, Tara picked up her bag and headed out the door.

I sighed. I don’t think Tara liked me. Oh well.

I pulled on my jacket and bag. Then I was out the door and headed across town. I took a deep, tired breath. It was the first day at a new school. Again. I wasn’t too worried about other people. I usually ended up in the library looking for a good book. However, this year I would be here all year. I could actually make a friend, maybe actually keep one. That would be new. I hadn’t been able to keep a friend since I was twelve years old and Mom lost the house.

It didn’t take me long to reach the school. I shut off the navigation on my phone and found Douglas Street. Tara was right; I was able to park right next to the tennis courts, only half a block from what looked like the library. I parked, grabbed my stuff, pulled out my map and started walking. Yeah, it was the library.

Finding the mark for my locker, I started walking. The hallways were already full of people, some of whom started staring. I chalked it up to the red hair. It always drew attention. I found my locker right next to a tall boy digging through his own locker. I ignored him and dropped my bag onto the cement. I felt eyes on me as I spun the dial. I knew he was staring. The twisted side of me was tempted to turn and stare right back, but I held back the impulse.

“You’re new,” he stated cheerfully, his voice rich and smooth to my ears, like honey.

After I had gotten the locker open, I turned and had to look up. He was a head taller than me, my head just reached his shoulders. He was wearing a pair of old jeans, a blue shirt, and a neon green hoodie. When I met his eyes, amber was smiling down at me. Something about his smile was infectious. I had to stop myself from smiling back. I vaguely registered his square jaw, wide full lips, and a straight nose. His hair was buzzed down on the sides but left long on top of his head. It wasn’t too long, but long enough that I could tell he hadn’t bothered combing it this morning. But what struck me was the color--it was blue, a deep bright blue. It surprised me enough that it took me a second to answer.

“Yeah.” I turned back to putting my gym clothes and sneakers into the locker, planning to come back before gym.

“Is that your real hair color?”

I sighed. I hated that question, but at least he wasn’t asking if the carpet matched the drapes.

I closed my locker before turning back to him as I pulled out my schedule and map.

He stuffed a book into his backpack before leaning over towards me. “Cause mine's not,” he stage-whispered.

This time I did smile.

“Yeah, it’s my natural hair color,” I answered, running my eyes over his hair. “I kind of like yours, though.”

He waved his hand as he closed his locker. “It’s not done yet, I’m adding in some darker blue streaks.” He shrugged on his book bag, a lazy smile still on his face. “I’m going for a Cookie Monster thing.”

“I’m going to call you Cookie Monster from now on, you realize that, right?” I gave him my smart-ass smile. Impish, my Dad had once called it.

His face lit up with a big smile.

“Hey, I like that.” He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. “But I get to call you Red. Deal?”

“Deal.” I waited for a beat before adding. “That’s way better than Pippi Longstocking.”

His eyes went wide as he opened his mouth.

“Too late, you only get one.” I chuckled as his face fell with disappointment.

“Ugh... fine.”

A loud bell rang through the halls.

“That’s the first bell,” he announced, walking backward down the hallway. “I’ll see ya later, Red.” He turned and hurried down the hall before I could say anything.

He didn’t seem so bad. Maybe it wouldn’t be that hard making friends.

I looked at my schedule on my map and started moving. Thankfully, the hallways were wide, so there wasn’t a crush as everyone hurried to class. AP World Civilizations was in the 300 building, which luckily wasn’t far. Finding the room, I walked into the classroom and found a desk in the middle, against the right wall. It was warm in here, so I took off the jacket and hung it on the back of my chair. People were whispering and staring again. Oh, the joys of being the new girl. I pulled out a notebook and pen and just started doodling.

It wasn’t long before the teacher came in. Mr. Matthews was in his fifties, tall, thin and with a head of white hair. He put down his bag at his desk and moved to the podium, his eyes searching the class. He smiled when he spotted me.

“We have a new student today, Alexis Delaney,” he announced with a booming voice.

Everyone in class looked at me. I gave a small smile and a short wave.

Mr. Matthews pulled a textbook off his desk and passed it to the girl at the top of the row. Everyone in the row then passed it back till it reached me. “There is a quiz every Friday on the chapter. I expect you to catch up.”

Then class began. I mostly ended up taking notes off the power point projection. All in all, Mr. Matthews seemed rather nice. Class went quickly, and soon I was on my way to English.

I walked into another classroom; this time a small woman was at a desk in the back of the room. She waved me over as I walked in. She was as tall as I was, with a pregnant belly.

“You must be Alexis.” Her voice was soft, her face sweet. “I’m Mrs. Hayes. Welcome to my class. We’re reading Romeo and Juliet right now.”

I resisted the urge to groan as she pulled a book off her desk and handed it to me.

“Here’s your copy. I hope you’ll enjoy this class.”

I thanked her and headed to find an empty desk. The whispering and staring started again. I was already tired of it. Annoyed, I pulled out my notebook again and started doodling.

The rest of my classes went exactly the same way. Nothing interesting happened the rest of the morning. Until my AP Chemistry class.

The Chemistry classroom was really the lab. It had tall counters sticking out from the edge of the walls instead of desks, with tall metal stools to sit on.

Mr. Turner was a tall man, probably nearer forty than thirty. His blond hair resembled straw. He had a pleasant face, but his large nose took center stage.

“Alexis, I imagine,” Mr. Turner said, not even looking up from his papers. He picked up a textbook and handed it to me. “We move fast in this class, so you better catch up.” Then he looked up at the other kids, who were all settling down, looking for something.

“Hey, Red!”

I turned my head immediately to find Cookie Monster waving his hand from the second table against the left wall.

“Mr. Turner, we’ll take her.” The other boys at the table look up surprised.

“It seems Isaac is willing to accept you into their group.” Mr. Turner gestured for me to move along.

As I walked over, I thought I was seeing double for a minute. The boy sitting next to Cookie Monster had the same face, only his hair was black, straight, and reached his jawline. He was just as tall as Cookie Monster, and his long sleeved, black shirt was tight against the muscles in his arms and chest. He was leaning against the table on his elbows, a silver pendant in the shape of a dragon dangled from around his neck. Cookie Monster and his twin were damn good looking.

“Hey, Cookie Monster.” I smiled as I put my bag on the floor.

The twin brother laughed, turning to his brother. “Cookie Monster. I like it,” he said, teasing his brother and enjoying himself. His voice was smooth, yet smoky. The mix was surprising and attention getting all at once.

The twin looked over at me still smiling. “I’m Ethan and thank you. You’ve just made my day.”

“No problem,” I smirked back at him.

“As if you needed something else to torture Isaac with.” The boy to my left said, his voice a quiet timber. He had been hunched over the table, his nose in his textbook, when I walked up, so I hadn’t gotten a good look at him. He was cute--high cheekbones and angled jaw. His chestnut hair was short but had a wave to it that looked completely natural. He had emerald green eyes behind black-rimmed glasses. He was leaner than the other boys, but his shoulders were still broad with some muscle to it. His baggy shirt spelled out the word “nerdy” with elements from the periodic table. I instantly loved it.

He turned those green eyes on me. “I’m Miles.” His fingers began tapping on the table in quick staccato rhythm. He seemed tense introducing himself.

“I’m Alexis.” I gave him a friendly smile before reaching down into my bag and pulling out my notebook.

“You’re the new girl. I wouldn’t have expected you to take a hard class like this,” Miles said, his voice flat.

I went still, my pen still in my hand. Isaac rolled his eyes. Ethan shook his head laughing softly.

“Ah man, Miles. You need to work on talking to girls,” Ethan chided.

“And people in general,” Isaac added, sighing in frustration.

Miles looked over at the twins.

“What?” he asked, his brow drawn down, his eyes confused.

Did he really not realize he had just insulted me? I ran my eyes over him again. Judging by the confused look on his face, he didn’t.

“I was in AP Chemistry at my old school. I can keep up.” I told him, grinning to let the others know I wasn’t insulted.

Mr. Turner called for everyone's attention. I turned on the stool toward the front of the class.

I was taking notes when Miles whispered behind me. “What did I say?”

I held back my smile and kept writing. Miles really didn’t seem to understand.

“You basically implied you think she’s stupid,” Isaac whispered back.

This didn’t sound like the first time the others had to explain something like this to Miles. There was a long silence. I could practically hear the gears turning in Miles’ head.

“That’s not what I meant.” Miles’ voice was even quieter this time.

I ignored them as I listened to the instructions for the lab half of the class. Apparently, we were separating hydrogen and oxygen from water with electrolysis. I remembered this experiment from my last school.

Mr. Turner set us loose. The boys began setting up the experiment when I had a thought.

“Hold on, are we using distilled water or do we need to add sodium hydroxide?” I asked, wondering if I missed something.

Miles' brows went up for a second, then he gave me a small smile.

“Distilled water,” he answered. Ethan and Isaac burst out laughing.

“And you were worried she couldn’t keep up,” Isaac said, taunting Miles.

Miles’ ears grew red, his cheeks pink.

“Actually, I did this lab three weeks ago at my old school,” I said, smiling. “So, technically you guys are behind me.”

The twins laughed. They kept teasing Miles through the rest of the class.

I had just thrown my jacket back on and picked up my bag when Ethan stepped in close to me. He wrapped his arm around my back, his hand on my shoulder.

“You have so made my week today, Beautiful,” he told me emphatically.

I raised an eyebrow at his choice of words. Was he calling me beautiful or saying showing up Miles was beautiful?

While I was wondering, he continued. “You need to sit with us at lunch.” His voice had gone soft and smoky; it was toe curling.

Suddenly Ethan stumbled forward. He went a couple steps and turned, glaring at Isaac who now stood by me, his arm hanging around my neck.

“No flirting with Red,” he declared firmly, pointing at his brother. He leaned in close and whispered loudly, “Ethan is a huge flirt. Don’t fall for his evil ways.”

Ethan smiled and spread his arms out to his sides palms up.

“I can’t help that I’m the better looking one, brother,” he taunted, walking backwards towards the door.

“And he’s so humble, too,” I said with fake awe.

The guys burst out laughing, even Miles was grinning.

“Yeah, you’re coming to lunch with us,” Isaac announced, using his arm to pull me out the door and into the hallway.

Ethan dropped back to walk next to me. Between them both, I was feeling short. Miles brought up the back, staying close enough to hear.

“Where did you move from, anyway?”

“California. I got here yesterday,” I told them, trying not to wince. Isaac's arm had moved from around my neck to the back of my shoulders right over a bunch of bruises. I was about to take his arm off me when Miles spoke up behind me.

“Isaac, she just met you. Stop hanging on her or you are going to make her uncomfortable.” Miles warned, he sounded distracted. Isaac winced and pulled his arm from around me.

“Sorry, Red,” he whispered.

“No worries.” I smiled up at him. Isaac was fun; there was no other way to describe him. He was just fun.

“You don’t want to be under there anyway, he has PE before Chemistry,” Miles called from behind us.

I burst out laughing as Isaac turned to punch Miles in the shoulder. Miles took it, looking unrepentant.

“Hey! I’m not that smelly,” Isaac insisted with pride.

“You’re at the center of all the hot gossip running around the school right now,” Ethan chimed in, changing the subject as he winked at a cute blond girl as we walked past. “The rumor mill is going crazy.”

We turned down another hall and past a courtyard between four of the buildings.

“Oh yeah? What have they come up with?” I asked, actually curious.

He tucked his hair behind both of his ears as we walked, showing five silver hoops running up his right earlobe.

“The usual, you were in juvenile hall, you were expelled, drugs.” Ethan shrugged. “Nothing original.” He raised an eyebrow at me before adding, “There is contemplation floating around about whether your hair color is real or not. And whether or not you have a soul.”

I groaned and rolled my eyes.

“Those aren’t new,” I told them as we went down a few cement steps. We’d reached the area outside the cafeteria. It was set up like the other courtyard and had metal tables everywhere. Everyone seemed to stay outside even with the overcast sky. The guys stopped at an empty four-sided metal picnic table. The boys sat down, Isaac and Ethan sharing a bench, Miles on the bench to the left of them.

“I hate those questions,” I said as I sat down on my own bench. I opened my bag to pull out my lunch.

“I can understand why.” Miles' voice was polite while he narrowed his eyes at Ethan. Ethan held his hands in front of him palms out.

“Hey, just repeating what I heard.” Ethan turned toward me as he opened his book bag. “So how do you usually handle those?”

I was still digging in my bag when I answered.

“I usually say ‘yes, the color is real’.” I looked at the boys. “For the other one, I smile sweetly, look innocent and say, ‘No I don’t have a soul, can I have yours?’” They burst out laughing. “That usually shuts them up.”

“Yeah, that’ll do it.”

Ethan was the first to stop laughing. The guys started opening their lunch bags. Miles stopped and looked at me quizzically.

“Why would you answer them at all?”

I gave a half shrug as I opened my lunch bag.

“Most people aren’t expecting me to answer, or they’re just asking to mess with me. So, when I say all that, they look scared and walk away.” I pulled out my water bottle and pointed with it. “They tend not to ask again after that.”

The guys chuckled. Isaac leaned into Ethan.

“Can we keep her?” Isaac asked, smiling over at me. I winked at him while opening my bottle of water.

“Sounds good to me,” Ethan replied, frowning at the bag of chips in his hand.

“What sounds good?”

A rich baritone voice came from behind Miles. I looked up. A rather tall boy was standing there with a backpack over his shoulder. He looked like your boy next door, but with model good looks. His high cheekbones and sharp chin belonged in a magazine. His sandy blonde hair was close to his head. His buttoned long-sleeved shirt was blue and untucked over gray pants. His clothes didn’t hide his muscles; the guy must have to work out pretty seriously for that body. I suddenly felt the need to work my ass off in gym class later. Those blue eyes went to me, his face puzzled as he reached the table.

“Keeping Beautiful here,” Ethan explained looking at his sandwich. Ethan put his lunch back in his bag and put it down in front of Isaac, then took Isaac's lunch bag. “Mom gave me your tuna again.”

“Yay, tuna.” Isaac opened his bag happily making me smile.

The blonde boy sat on the bench next to Miles; he reached over the table and held out his hand.

“I’m Asher.”

I shook his hand. “Alexis.”

“Nice to meet you.”

He seemed to just accept that I was here and staying. I liked that about him instantly.

“So, you’re up for adoption, huh?”

I held my hands out palms up. “I guess so.”

He gave me a warm smile as he pulled out his lunch bag. It was a good smile; it belonged in a toothpaste ad. I had to stop myself from giggling at the thought.

“Don’t let the manner-less twins scare you off.” Asher pulled a sandwich out of the bag. “We’re not too bad.”

“Something tells me she doesn’t scare easy,” Miles said with a small smile before taking another bite of his sandwich.

Ethan and Isaac shared mischievous grins.

“How long have you guys known each other?” I asked.

Asher tilted his head his eyes unfocused. “Since forever, we all grew up on the same block.” He answered, gesturing at the guys. “It’s always been the twins, Miles, me and Zeke. Well, then Zeke and Miles moved.”

“Where is Zeke by the way?” Miles asked, pushing his glasses up again. Everyone shrugged.

“I was stuck fixing a carburetor someone else fucked up.” The deep, gravelly voice came from behind me, making me jump. I turned on the bench and looked up and up. He was giant, and not just his height. A black motorcycle jacket encased his broad shoulders. I could see a black thermal underneath that was tight against the muscles on his chest. When I finally saw his face, I had to stop my mouth from dropping. Oh, shit. He had a striking face only much rougher and way scarier. His black hair wasn’t very long, but it was rumpled like he ran his hands through it often. His wide cheekbones and strong jaw made his face attractive, but a much rougher and scarier kind of attractive. I was vaguely aware that black scruff covered the lower half of his face. Hell, he looked like someone you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark alley.

His sharp blue eyes were running over me, his expression confused. He stepped around my side of the table and loomed over the empty bench. From the corner of my eye, I noticed the metal chain from his wallet going from his hip to his back pocket. He was frowning down at me, looking intimidating as hell.

“Who the hell are you?” he demanded, his voice hard.

I was about to snap back at him when I noticed the bags under his eyes.

“Zeke, you’re being rude,” Miles shot back at him, his voice had a bite to it.

Zeke winced and ran a hand through his short hair.

“Sorry, I’m just tired,” he offered in a normal tone. He dropped his bag and took the empty bench. His knees bumped my legs under the table, so I scooted over, giving him more room.

“Hi tired, I’m Alexis.” I smiled at him, hoping a corny joke would cheer him up or at least make him less grumpy.

He snorted quietly, one corner of his mouth twitching as he opened his bag and pulled out his lunch bag.

“Zeke,” he mumbled before turning to the table and opening his lunch.

Ethan’s phone vibrated. Ethan picked it up, looked at it and started smiling.

“Late night at the garage?” Miles asked, putting his trash in his lunch bag.

Zeke nodded. “Yeah, and I have the physics test this Friday. Mr. Turner’s really riding me-”

“That’s what she said,” Isaac and I interrupted at the same time.

We looked at each other, both surprised, then broke out giggling. There were a couple of other chuckles around the table. Asher shook his head smiling. Ethan laughed as he was texting. Zeke just ran his eyes over me like he was trying to figure me out.

“Great, Isaac has corrupted her,” Asher observed, his voice laughing.

“Nope, sorry, hon, I came prepackaged this way.” I gave him my smart-ass smile.

Miles started talking to Zeke about some Trig homework. I kind of blocked them out. I watched Ethan texting someone. Then I looked around the table at the guys. Each of them were good looking in their own way and nice. Well, Zeke was a bit grumpy, but they seemed kind of fun. To be honest, I wanted to keep them.

“So, is this like the hot guy table at this school or what?” I asked when there was a lull, eyeing each of them in turn again. I suddenly had all five pairs of eyes on me. “No seriously, you’re all ripped. Even Miles over there, though he’s trying to hide it with a shirt that’s too big.”

“Oh, well, we all work out together.” Asher offered.

Ethan lifted his head from his phone.

“Isaac’s in Mixed Martial Arts training, so we all end up sparring with him. And if we are going to spar with him, we need to make him work for it.”

“So, you all basically do MMA training?” I asked, looking at each of them.

“Yeah, I guess we do,” Ethan answered for everyone. “But Isaac’s the only one who does any actual matches.”

I looked over at Isaac who was throwing his trash into his lunch bag.

“What’s your win to loss record?” I was going to be nosey, this sounded interesting. Isaac gave me a big warm smile.

“I have four wins to three losses right now. But I can’t fight again for a while,” Isaac admitted. “I got a concussion a few weeks back, and our Mom won’t let me get back in the ring for a few months.”

“He’s grounded for letting someone knock his head around. He can’t go back until he learns how not to do that,” Ethan said in a stage whisper across the table.

I chuckled as Isaac smacked his brother upside the head.

“Thanks, brother.” Isaac’s sarcasm was thick, his cheeks tinged a light pink. Ethan just smiled at him.

I leaned across the table towards Ethan. “Got any video?”

Isaac groaned as the others chuckled.

Ethan was beaming as he got up and came around the table to sit next to me. He brought up a video of the match as he explained who Isaac’s opponent was. I watched as the match began. Isaac started out on solid ground, but then it started going downhill. It ended when Isaac took a knee to the face that ended the match. I looked at Isaac, wincing. His face was red, and his mouth pursed together.

“Ouch.” It was all I could think to say. Then I looked back at Ethan. “Now show me a win.” Isaac just shook his head at me as I got Ethan to show me all Isaac's matches and filling me in on who he was fighting at the time. Isaac ignored me and his brother as we huddled around Ethan’s phone. Everyone else went back to talking about schoolwork and upcoming tests. Eventually, Isaac checked his cell phone.

“Guys!” he all but shouted across the table. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him.

“Lunch break is almost over. I make a motion to keep Red,” Isaac announced to everyone.

A motion to keep me?

“Seconded,” Ethan spoke up.

I raised my eyebrows, they were actually voting.

“Third,” Miles added quietly.

“Motion carried,” Asher announced, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. “You’re stuck with us now, sweetie. Phone numbers.”

I smirked at them. Suckers, they were the ones stuck with me.

Everyone dug into their pockets pulling out their phones. I followed suit.

Isaac took my phone and handed it down to Miles. “Do that thing where you share contacts, so it doesn’t take forever.”

Miles pressed some buttons on his phone then picked up my phone. I grabbed my lunch bag full of trash and got up.

“I’m hitting the trash can, anyone want me to take theirs, too?” I asked, watching as they all added my number to their phones. Every one of them held up their lunch bags. I rolled my eyes and took them to the trashcan. I skirted around a group of people and threw away the bags. I was on my way back when I almost ran into Tara.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice hushed.

I pointed at the garbage can.

“Throwing stuff away,” I answered matter-of-factly.

Tara ran a hand down her hair, her eyes darting around us.

“I don’t want people to know we’re related.” She hissed at me before looking over her shoulder at her group of friends. No one was paying attention.

“Fine by me.” I walked off, heading back to the guys’ table.

I have to admit, it hurt a little that Tara would feel that way; a very little part. As I was walking away, my twisted side really wanted to turn around, wave, and say loudly ‘Goodbye, cousin Tara.’ However, I had to live with her, so I kept a lid on the impulse.

I was almost past the group when someone stepped in front of me. A boy with blonde hair and brown eyes with a nice face. His smile was friendly, but something about it rubbed me wrong. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?”

Before I could answer, he wrapped his arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a different group of people across from Tara’s friends.

“I’m Jason, that’s Hale, that’s Brendon.” He went around the group introducing names, but all I could focus on was the arm grinding into my bruises. I tried to step away, but he moved his arm to around my waist and yanked me back, his grip tightening.

Yeah, no, that’s not happening.

My face went blank as I looked him dead in the eye.

“Get your arm off me before I break it,” I said very calmly. I didn’t like anyone I didn’t know grabbing me. The twins had been a surprising exception.

His smile disappeared and then reappeared as he ran his eyes over my body.

“Tell me, honey, does the carpet match the drapes?” he asked. The guys in the group laughed.

Oh, you asshole. I had warned him.

I have attended a lot of different schools in the last five years, not all of them in good neighborhoods. After one horrifying incident, I took a self-defense class and a little kick-boxing in LA. My focus was getting out of holds.

I reached across my body with my left hand and grabbed hold of his thumb. I broke his grip and spun around him, taking his thumb with me so that when I stopped, his arm was in a lock behind his back.

“First, when a girl says let go, you let go. Second, don’t be such an asshole,” I all but growled at him.

He winced before I gave him a shove; he stumbled into the other gaping boys. Other people around the courtyard were laughing and hooting. I didn’t really care. Watching Jason, I backed away several steps. When I was sure he wasn’t coming after me, I turned and smacked into a brick wall.

Surprised, I started to stumble. Big hands caught me by my arms, keeping me on my feet. I looked up to find Zeke glaring at the guy who grabbed me. His face was like stone, his jaw clenched, and his eyes were starting to burn. I looked around him to see that the other guys had also gotten up and had only been a few steps behind Zeke. None of them looked happy, even Miles.

My heart melted in my chest. Had they been coming to help me? It was so sweet that I didn’t quite know what to do or say.

Jason was steady on his feet again. He was cursing, calling me a bitch--among other things.

Miles’ face went cold as he took a step towards Jason. Isaac grabbed hold of him, stopping him.

Oh, this could be bad. I had to diffuse the situation.

“Hi, guys,” I said cheerfully, as if I was running into them in the hall. I had five pairs of eyes on me instantly. Their faces began relaxing back to normal.

“Did you guys finish with my phone?” I asked, stepping back out of Zeke’s hands. Not one bit intimidated by Zeke’s size. Sure, really, I only just reach the middle of his chest. The guy was, just, huge.

“Yeah, Miles finished,” Zeke answered his shoulders relaxing.

That seemed to be the signal for the others to relax as well. I stepped around Zeke and headed back toward the table, acting as if nothing had happened. The boys followed me. I picked up my cell phone and was putting it into the inside pocket of my jacket when Ethan pointed at Isaac.

“Remind me never to piss her off,” Ethan announced. As the guys were laughing, the bell rang. I grabbed my bag and pulled out my map. The locker room wasn’t that far away. That’s when it hit me.

“Shit.” I closed my bag and began to take off.

“What’s wrong?” Miles called after me. I turned and walked backward down the hall.

“I forgot my gym clothes in my locker.” I waved at them. “I’ll talk to you guys later.” I turned and ran. Thankfully, my locker wasn’t far, and I was soon on my way to the locker room.

I got to my locker and changed in a stall to keep anyone from seeing my back.

Gym was the usual boring stuff. When I was back in my clothes and hurrying across campus to my art class, I heard a shout.

“Alexis!” a baritone called down the hall. I stopped and looked around to find Asher moving through the crowded hall towards me.

“Hey, what class are you going to?” I asked as we started walking again.

Asher winced. “Art.” He shifted his bag on his shoulders.

“Me too.” I raised an eyebrow at him “Do you not like Art class?” He was looking over his shoulder as if expecting to get ambushed any minute.

“No, it’s the way to Art class I don’t like.” We dodged around a couple making out in the middle of the hallway.

“Why’s that?”

Suddenly, that familiar chill ran down my neck, only this time, it was painful. I took a deep breath and looked around trying to spot the pissed off ghost.

“There’s a girl that walks by here and always has to stop to talk to me. She’s really pushy. She’s always trying to get me to do school stuff I don’t want to do, you know, like the student council.” Asher explained.

As he kept talking, I found her. She was about 100 feet ahead near a cement pathway to the other buildings. Her long blonde hair was pulled back with braids. Her big blue eyes were watching the living. She wore bell-bottoms and a peasant blouse.

My chest ached all the way from here.

Some ghosts were stronger than others, especially if they are pissed off. This girl didn’t want to be dead. I could feel from this far away. She was pissed off to a level I have never seen. I didn’t want to get closer, but we had to pass her to get to class.

“Hell, maybe she’ll back off if I’m walking with you.” I nodded as if I’d been listening.

“No problem, chick deterrent mode activated,” I continued, hoping I kept the strain from my voice.

As we got closer to the ghost, my head started to pound. I could actually feel the waves of hatred from her. We were just about to pass her when a familiar voice called for Asher. Asher stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes closed. I looked around us to find Tara coming up the path towards us. Even though my head was pounding, I laughed. Tara was the pushy girl.

Tara’s smile drooped a bit when she saw me standing next to Asher. But she pepped it right back up when she got closer.

“Asher, I see you’ve met my cousin Lexie,” Tara began, surprising me, even through the pounding headache.

The dead girl had stepped closer to me, making it feel like a knife was being driven into my chest. Breathing was getting harder. I felt like shit but I had no other excuse for what I said next.

“I thought you didn’t want anyone to know we’re related?”

Tara’s eyes threw sparks at me before turning pleasant again.

The ghost started circling us. No one else felt a thing.

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Lexie.” Tara chided, then turned her attention to Asher. “Asher, we really need your help on the homecoming board.”

At that point, I tuned her out. The ghost was behind me again, reaching out. My head felt like it was in a vise as Tara prattled on. I started hearing my pulse in my ears and wanted to throw up. We needed to move or I was going to be sick.

I reached out and grabbed Asher’s arm, tugging him in the direction we were going. When we started walking, I let go, but Tara kept pace next to him. Unfortunately, so did the dead girl. I focused on moving and not listening to the memories of her life that kept trying to push into my head.

I turned my head enough to look the ghost in the eye. Her eyes went wide--she realized I could see her. Her eyes narrowed as she reached for my face. I mouthed the word no, feeling it with everything inside me. I shoved the ghost back, her eyes furious. I turned back to the others; no one noticed anything odd. Tara pulled Asher to a stop, so I stopped too.

The pressure built in my face, then the drip onto my upper lip. Silently cursing, I pinched my nose closed. Tara was still talking. I was done. I wasn’t going to just stand here and let the bitch of a ghost hurt me. But I couldn’t leave Asher to Tara. Before I could decide what to do, Asher looked over at me. His eyes went wide.

“Oh man, Alexis.” He pulled his backpack around and pulled out one of those small tissue packages. He tore out a few and handed them to me.

I put them to my nose and stopped pinching.

“Are you alright?” He actually sounded concerned. He swung his backpack back around his back and took my arm.

He turned to Tara and said, “We got to take care of this, Tara. I’ll think about it.” He gave me a small tug as we walked quickly away.

Tara mumbled under her breath. She was not happy. I didn’t really care; my headache was disappearing the farther away from the ghost we got.

When we got out of sight, we slowed down. Asher didn’t look so worried now; he looked like he was holding back a laugh.

“Did you just give yourself a bloody nose to get us away from her?” He let go of my arm as we continued down another hallway.

“I’m not that good,” I said in a nasally voice. Asher’s smile faded away, he looked worried again.

“Are you okay?”

I nodded, waving my other hand.

“Yeah, it just happens sometimes,” I hedged. It’s not like I could tell him the truth. I pulled the tissues away and pressed a clean spot back against my nose. Since we had gotten away from the ghost, it should stop quickly.

“I don’t care if it wasn’t on purpose.” He looked at me, his blue eyes sparkling. “That was the best save ever.” I nodded, agreeing with him. At least my bloody nose was good for something.

My nose had stopped bleeding by the time we reached class. I threw the tissue away and went to the sink. I used a wet paper towel to wipe off my fingers and under my nose. I turned to Asher who nodded.

“You got it all,” he reassured me. Asher led me to a table with four other people around it.

“Hey everyone, this is Alexis. It’s her first day,” Asher announced as I sat down.

Everyone nodded or waved at me, but ultimately went back to whatever they were doing. Class started, and the teacher did what was the usual for today--announce me as a new student as I smiled and waved. Then we got down to business.

Mrs. Archer had set up a bowl of fruit at each table and wanted everyone to draw it. Asher showed me where the supplies were. I picked up a pack of oil pastels that had all the colors I wanted. Then I went back and went to work. I’ll admit, I kind of ignored everyone around me, including Asher, as I worked with the pastels. I was absently wiping my hand on my jeans again, cleaning my fingers, when Mrs. Archer looked over my shoulder.

“Oh, well done, Alexis,” Mrs. Archer exclaimed loudly. Every head came up. I don’t think she meant to get everyone’s attention; she just seemed excited. “I love that you used the pastels here, you’re the first one to touch them in ages.” She pointed to the background of gray and streaks of white. “Beautiful blending, you have some talent here, missy.”

M face turn burned as I bent back over my drawing. Asher leaned over and looked at my drawing.

“That is cool,” he said. My face grow hotter.

“Oh, now you blush,” Asher said, sitting up straight. “You put a linebacker in an arm lock, with everyone in school watching without a problem. But someone says you drew something pretty, and you blush.” I lifted my left hand and flipped him off. Asher just chuckled.

My face finally cooled down by the time he spoke again.

“So, Tara Delaney is your cousin?”

“Yep.”

“She calls you Lexie?”

“Yeah, my Dad used to call me Lexie, it just sort of stuck. I always liked it,” I explained, focusing on what I was doing.

“Did she really not want anyone to know you two were related?” he asked, using an eraser on part of his page.

“That’s what she said to me at lunch,” I answered absently. I was focusing on a part of the bowl that wasn’t looking right. It was the shading; it was off. I focused on trying to fix it.

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked, then grumbled and reached for the eraser again.

I shrugged.

“If that’s what she wants, then fine, it doesn’t really bother me.” I cursed; I’d messed up the shading even more. “Before yesterday, I hadn’t seen Tara in five years, so it’s not like we grew up together or anything.”

“Then why did she announce it to me?” he asked absently.

I looked up from my drawing long enough to glance at him. He was concentrating on his drawing, the tip of his tongue between his teeth. It was adorable, so I was smiling when I went back to my drawing.

“She has a crush on you,” I informed him.

I watched his head pop up out of the corner of my eye.

“Why do you say that?” he asked doubtfully.

I stopped drawing so I could explain it to him.

“She stops you every day, right?”

He nodded.

“Asks you to do stuff that would make you spend time with her?” His eyebrows rose. “Does she play with her hair around you? Does she find a reason to touch you?”

His cheeks were starting to turn pink when he bent down to focus on his drawing.

“She does all of those things,” he mumbled.

I went back to my work. How can guys be so clueless?

“That’s flirting,” I told him simply. I started working on the light spot on the apple. I was almost done with it when Asher grabbed my attention again.

“I still don’t understand why she told me you two were related if she said she wanted to keep it a secret.”

I stopped blending to answer.

“She probably saw that I was sitting with you guys at lunch, and then I was walking with you to class,” I explained before going back to my drawing. “She probably thought I’d be her way in.”

Asher scoffed. “That’s not right.”

I shrugged, wiping my hands off on my jeans. “That’s the way the world works,” I muttered, going back to work.

It was a while later when I spoke back up. “If you want to date her, you can, you know.” I felt like I had to make it clear that I didn’t really expect him to pick a friendship with me over dating Tara. I personally didn’t see a problem with both, but I doubted Tara would see it that way.

“No thank you, I don’t like people who use other people.” he answered, surprising me.

Tara was a cute girl who liked him; that was usually enough for most guys. Huh. I’d never seen that before.

It wasn’t long after that that he dropped his drawing pad onto the table.

“That’s it. I give up,” he declared as he pulled out his cell phone. It made me curious; I reached for his drawing. He slammed his hand down on it and eyed me. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, come on, it can’t be that bad,” I offered, trying to reassure him.

His blue eyes had a small sparkle in them as he looked down at me. That’s when I really noticed his eyes. They were a mix of dark blues and lighter blues, with white flecks here and there. He really had ocean eyes.

“Oh, it is,” he assured me, his voice overly dramatic.

I bit back a smile.

“I can help you get better,” I offered, now dying to see his drawing.

Asher chuckled. “There’s no getting better for me Lexie, I can’t draw,” he admitted, his tone light.

“Then why are you taking art if you don’t want to get better at it?” I was curious now.

“It was the only elective class that had room in seventh period.” He shrugged looking back down at his cell phone.

I kept eyeing the back of his drawing. I’d go back to my drawing, but soon I was looking at the back of his again. I did this several times. I noticed him grinning down at his phone out of the corner of my eye.

“It’s just driving you crazy, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, a little bit,” I said honestly.

He lifted his head and smiled down at me. He reached out and flipped the paper over. It was awful. The bowl was lopsided, the fruit out of proportion. On the edge of the bowl was a stick figure leaping to his death, then another one falling onto a big splat on the tabletop.

I had to bite my bottom lip hard to stop myself from giggling. When I had control of myself, I pointed at the stick figures. “I like the little guy.”

He laughed at me, shaking his head.

“Do you want any help?” I asked.

He shook his head still smiling. “I’ve accepted that I’m no artist, Lexie,” he said, his hand going to his chest. “I’ve made peace with it.”

I smiled and went back to my drawing. Soon, I noticed him texting under the table. I didn’t think much of it. He was done with his drawing while I was still adding layers to the grapes.

When Mrs. Archer let us go for the day, I was more than ready to go. I was walking down the hall with Asher when I spotted Zeke and Ethan walking towards us.

Zeke didn’t have to dodge around people; he was big enough that everyone just got out of his way. But I don’t think he realized it. He didn’t seem to notice people moving away from him.

They met us in the middle of the hallway. As Ethan and Asher talked about their homework, Zeke’s eyes were on my face, his brow drew down. He reached out and swiped at my jaw with a calloused finger. He showed me his thumb; it had red pastel on it. I shrugged.

“Is this paint or blood?” he asked, his deep voice demanding an answer.

Ethan and Asher stopped talking.

“Oil pastel, actually,” I answered him cheerfully, refusing to be intimidated. Zeke’s face relaxed as he wiped the color off on his black jeans.

“Yeah, she got all the blood off earlier,” Asher told him absently waving his hand. “Hey guys, did you know Lexie’s an artist?”

Isaac stepped up to my right and rested an elbow lightly on my shoulder.

“We’re calling her Lexie now?” Isaac asked, looking around the group.

I looked up at him and gave a half shrug. “That’s what my family has always called me unless I was in deep shit,” I offered.

Isaac smiled down at me.

“She can draw?” Ethan asked, bringing us back on topic.

I got the feeling they were trying to not address the mention of blood.

“What blood?” Zeke asked, his gaze going to Asher. Asher ignored him as he snatched my drawing from my hand and offered it up to everyone.

“Hey, Red, that’s really great,” Isaac spoke loudly.

I think they were irritating Zeke on purpose by not answering his question. I was mostly sure I was safe from Zeke’s wrath, but the boys probably weren’t. On the other hand, it might be fun to push Zeke’s buttons.

“It’s not really good.” I decided to go for it. “I still have to add some texture to the orange and the shading is completely messed up.”

“What blood did she wash off, Asher?” Zeke asked again, his voice getting louder.

Isaac’s head went up this time, his eyes darting from Zeke to me.

“What are you talking about, Lexie? This is pretty great,” Ethan continued, taking it from Asher and rolling it up. “In fact, I’m keeping it.” He tucked it under his arm and made to walk off with it.

I darted across the group and snatched it out from under his arm.

“No, you aren’t! It’s going in the trash.”

I was back in my spot by the time Ethan spun around with fake shock on his face. Miles walked up to stand on the other side of Asher filling in the circle. His hair was wet, and he was just putting his glasses back on.

“So, where are we going for homework today?” Miles asked us.

Asher took the picture from me again and opened it so Miles could see.

“Look what Lexie can do.” Asher’s voice gushed with pride.

Miles looked over my picture smiling.

“That’s really good, Alexis. You should enter something in the fair this year,” Miles said, shifting his bag on his shoulder.

“Is there a competition or something?” I’ve never put my art into a competition before.

Miles nodded, his emerald eyes meeting mine.

“They have a cash prize for first place.”

“If someone doesn’t tell me why she had blood on her I’m going to stuff someone in a locker,” Zeke growled loudly, his eyes heating up, his hands clenching into fists. We were really getting to him.

Miles raised an eyebrow at me questioningly; I winked at him.

“The only one that would fit is Alexis, and I doubt you’d even consider it.” Miles chimed in, a smile teasing at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey Beautiful, can you draw me a dragon with this stuff?” Ethan asked me, his eyes full of mischief.

“Ah, guys, I think he’s going to blow.” Isaac cautioned beside me.

“Sure, what kind do you want? Asian, Celtic?” I asked, rolling up my picture again.

“No, seriously guys,” Isaac warned us again, his voice getting higher. I kept my eyes off Zeke and focused on Ethan.

“I think Asian, but with black and red colors,” Ethan said before looking over at Zeke. His smile got bigger. I figured we’d irritated Zeke long enough.

I looked up at Zeke and almost stepped back. His face was hard, his jaw clenched. His hands were in tight fists against his sides.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch,” I teased him, meeting his gaze. The other guys laughed. “I got a bloody nose on the way to Art class.”

Zeke seemed to relax all at once; his jaw unclenched, and he stopped frowning. All in all, he stopped looking scarier than his usually scary self.

He looked over at Asher.

“Rumor is, Jason’s girlfriend is pissed as hell and looking for Lexie,” Zeke announced.

“Shit. Asher is out for homework.” Isaac groaned.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Jason’s dating my sister,” Asher explained with a sigh. “Let’s hit Miles' house.” Miles raised an eyebrow at Asher.

“Don’t you have football practice?” Isaac asked from across the circle.

Asher snorted. “I’m skipping today.”

“Coach Jones isn’t going to like that,” Miles pointed out.

“What is he going to do, not play me Friday?” Asher snapped his fingers, fake disappointment all over his face. “Aw, darn.” Isaac and Ethan chuckled.

“My Mom is having the floors waxed today, so I’m not allowed back in the house until at least six tonight,” Miles announced as he scratched his nose. “How about your house, Zeke?”

Zeke shook his head. “Nah, Aunt Silvia is working the night shift at the diner, she’s sleeping right now.” He nodded toward Isaac.

“Nope,” Ethan and Isaac answered at the same time.

Isaac explained. “There’s a lot of activity at the house right now.”

Everyone seemed to accept that as if it made complete sense.

“I can ask my Uncle Rory if you guys can come over to his house,” I offered, already pulling my cell phone out of my pocket. “But my cousin might be there.”

“Who’s your cousin?” Ethan asked, tucking his black hair back behind his ears.

“Tara Delaney,” Asher said with a groan. Everyone winced, and a couple cursed. Asher snapped his fingers, his face lighting up. “No, wait. The student council is meeting today, those meetings last until like six.”

There were rounds of thank God, and that’s a relief from the guys as I was texting Rory.

Alexis: Rory? I made some friends today at school. Can they come over to do homework?

I didn’t have to wait long for an answer.

Rory: Hey, how was school today? Any problems with the campus?

I felt all five guys trying to read over my shoulder. I bit my lip, cringing at Rory’s question. I pulled my cell phone a little closer to my chest. The guys started talking about homework.

Alexis: One nosebleed, otherwise it’s fine. Can my friends come over?

Rory: How many? And, are they boys or girls?

Alexis: Five boys. But they are really nice and have been looking out for me today.

It wasn’t technically lying.

My phone rang. I winced, it was Rory.

All eyes went to me as conversations stopped.

“Hi, Rory.”

“You want to take five boys to the house without me there?” His voice was very precise, as if he wanted to be very clear.

“Yeah. They offered to help me catch up in my classes,” I offered, lying my ass off.

Rory was silent so long I thought he hung up. I heard him sigh.

“If it were Tara asking, I’d say no, but I trust you not to do anything stupid,” Rory admitted. I tried not to show how much that affected me by looking down at the ground between everyone.

“Are they with you now?”

“Yep.”

“Put me on speaker.” Rory demanded.

I looked up at the guys who were watching me. I pulled the phone away from my ear.

“Rory wants to talk you guys first,” I told them matter-of-factly and hit the speaker button.

“Rory, you’re on speaker.”

“Before you go anywhere with my niece I want names, full legal names,” Rory demanded. They all hesitated. I looked to Isaac trying to be encouraging. They started around the circle.

“Isaac Turner.”

“Ezekiel Blackthorn.”

“Ethan Turner.”

“Miles Huntington.”

“Asher Westfell.”

They all waited in silence as the clicking of typing grew louder. I suddenly got an idea of what Rory was doing.

“Rory you’re not-”

“Damn right I am.” His voice was harsh. “You’ve had enough shit happen to you, so I’m going to make sure nothing else happens.” I fought back tears as his words hit me right in the heart. No one really cared in a long time, not since Dad died.

“Rory.” I swallowed hard. “You’re still on speaker phone.”

There was silence.

“Yeah, sorry.” He took a deep breath and let it out. “Okay, you boys check out. No priors, no complaints. But, I have a rule that if you break, I will bring down hell on your heads.”

I looked around the group I saw mostly raised eyebrows, a couple open mouths. Zeke, however, looked like he expected this.

Rory continued. “No boys upstairs. There is no give on this. If you go upstairs, you will never set foot back in my house again. Does everyone understand?”

A round of yes and yes sirs went up. The boys were taking Rory seriously.

“Lexie, if there isn’t enough food in the house to feed them, order some pizzas or something. There is money in the emergency jar on my dresser.” He took a deep breath. “I have to go, I’ll see ya later.” Rory hung up. I tucked my phone back into my jacket in the tense silence.

“How did your uncle know we don’t have records?” Miles asked, his eyebrow raised.

“He’s a cop.” They all seemed to accept that and understand Rory a bit more. “Come on, guys, let’s get out of here.” I looked around the now empty hall; everyone else seemed to have gone home.

“Yeah, let’s not run into Tara.” Asher reminded them, which got everyone moving.

I gave everyone my address before we split up. I walked back to my Blazer and unlocked it. I was just climbing in when a car went by with Isaac half hanging out the window, waving. I shook my head and waved back. Isaac was nuts.