Shadows crept along the metallic roofline of the classrooms as the clouds shifted slowly across the sky, almost as though they were following me. With my sunglasses now firmly back on, I walked at a snail’s pace, in no rush to get to my form room. I was nervous about seeing Christopher, and even more nervous about how he was going to react to my eyes, especially with his aversion to blue irises. Mum had freaked out bad enough, I didn’t need him flipping out too. She’d rung the doctor, getting in even more of a flap when she couldn’t get an appointment with our normal GP. Luckily, the receptionist calmed her down, promising an appointment for later on in the day with another doctor. Regardless, she’d insisted on driving me to school, forcing me to read every single sign along the way as though she was an optometrist asking me to read the last line on an eye chart.
A rowdy bunch of boys pushed past me, jostling me closer to the benches framing the tech rooms. As I reached the Science quad, I entered the corridor that led to my form room, following some classmates inside. I stopped a few feet away from where Christopher was sitting. He was back at the front of the class, hunched over an exercise book, stabbing at it with a pen as if it was a voodoo doll of Mr. Stanton. But even though he looked in a foul mood, I was still relieved to see him. Sister Cecile’s manuscript might have reassured me he was all right, but I hadn’t realised just how much I needed to see him in person to reinforce that.
He looked up at me, his foul mood instantly disappearing as though I’d chased it away. He flashed a perfect set of pearly whites, the guy a dentist’s wet dream. Unable to help myself, I smiled back, more than a little tempted to sit on his lap and kiss him all over his beautiful face.
Mr. Stanton’s booming voice stomped all over my fantasy, the man almost making me jump out of my Doc Martens. I spun around, coming face to face with Boss Hogg, wishing I could tell the short, pudgy teacher where to get off.
“Catherine, go to the back of the room.”
Clenching my hands so I didn’t give him the finger, I headed for the seat that Stephen was holding out like a smug twat.
“And, Catherine, you’re not Bono,” Mr. Stanton added, “so take those sunglasses off.”
I sat down and slipped them off, letting my hair fall down to hide my face. Stephen nudged me, sliding a piece of paper on my desk. I went to screw it up, but stopped just short, the beautiful handwriting on it nothing like Stephen’s caveman scrawl. I quickly slipped the note onto my lap and read it:
Fifteen minutes into your second class, use the restroom excuse and meet me in the small art room.
Christopher’s signature was scrawled underneath. Praying he didn’t react badly to my eyes, I slipped the note into my pocket, now waiting nervously for my second class.
***
My history teacher nodded at my request, allowing me to go to the restroom. But instead, I made a beeline for the small art room. I opened the door, almost colliding with Rodney as he shot out of it like a rocket, the meek boy disappearing down the corridor before I could blink. Wondering what his problem was, I stepped inside the room, finding out a second later. I squealed as Christopher yanked me to him and slammed the door shut behind me.
He crowded me up against the door with his body. Not knowing what the hell was going on, I went to push him away, but instead let out an embarrassing squeak as he bit my earlobe.
“Missed you,” he said, flicking his tongue over where he’d bitten.
All the fight went out of me, his aggression no longer frightening. Instead, he was making my insides turn to Jell-O, the guy so hard to resist. Regardless, I needed to know why he’d been watching me at the beach before I could give into my cravings.
“Why would you miss me?” I rasped, the pressure from his body making it hard to keep my hands to myself. “You’ve seen me in your dreams.”
He chuckled. “A very wet dream.”
“Why were you there?”
“I think the Halo rosary sent me, but I don’t know why.” He pulled back to look at me, his sexy smile dropping at the sight of my eyes. “Che cazzo...”
I had no idea what he’d said, other than it obviously wasn’t good. “Yeah, they freaked me out too,” I replied, hoping things weren’t going to go downhill from here.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, the colour of my irises rendering him speechless.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” I said, growing more and more nervous. “Maybe start ranting that I’m a Maris?”
“You’re not one,” he finally answered.
“Then why do you look so scared? I’m still the same person, regardless of what colour eyes I have.”
“I’m not scared, it’s just... How?” He indicated to my eyes. “How are they like that?”
“My rosary. I’ve been using it a lot, practising every day.” I glanced at his chest, the bumps under his shirt suggesting he was wearing his rosary too. An idea popped into my head, one that could possibly get rid of the blue circling my irises.
“Will my eyes change if I use your rosary?” I asked.
His stunned expression didn’t alter. “You already have brown in your eyes.”
“No, I meant would it get rid of the blue?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“Then can I practice with yours?”
“I already told you no—” He cut himself off, his expression suddenly brightening. “Actually, why not? But only if you let me wear yours.”
“But you said they’d hurt you.”
“They didn’t the last time I touched them, plus I’ll put on the Halo rosary, which should render the Maris one harmless.” He removed the Halo rosary from his pocket and slipped it on. His body instantly lit up with a full body halo instead of the partial halo from the reserve. It reminded me of the saints in a few medieval artworks from our Art History class—just a thousand times more beautiful.
He pulled his red rosary off and held it out for me to take.
“Are you positive it’ll be all right?” I asked, not sure whether I should give him mine, still worried it could hurt him.
He nodded. “If you wear mine, it’s only fair I wear yours.”
“No, I mean, will it be safe?”
“Sì,” he said, touching the Halo rosary as though it was proof that nothing bad would happen to him.
I removed the Maris rosary from around my neck and held it out for him to take, hoping he knew what he was doing. He handed his one over, but didn’t make a move to take mine.
“You going to take it or not?” I asked, confused by his conflicting behaviour.
“Put it on me,” he said.
“You sure? Because you look like you’re about to crap yourself.”
He scowled at me. “I’m fine.”
“You could’ve fooled me.”
“Just put it on!”
“Whoa! Rein it in, Cujo.”
“I wouldn’t have barked if you didn’t keep questioning me.”
“Because you’re acting weird.”
“Only because I’m nervous, but I still want to try them on.”
I exhaled. “Fine.” I went to place it over his head, not surprised when he flinched. I lowered the rosary. “Why do you want to try it on if you think it’s going to hurt you?”
“I need to prove something.”
“What?”
“It’s personal, so just do it quick.”
“How about you close your eyes?”
He nodded, instantly closing them.
I quickly slipped the rosary over his head, placing it against his shirt. The beads didn’t do a thing to him, other than extinguishing the Halo rosary’s glow.
He exhaled loudly, sounding like he’d been holding his breath. I popped his rosary over my head as he opened his eyes.
“Merda,” he said, looking down at his chest. “I really thought it was going to kill me.” He looked back up at me, a smile spreading across his face. He indicated to my chest, his rosary vibrating slightly against my shirt. “I was right about you being a Stella, otherwise it would’ve burnt you if you were a Maris.”
My eyes widened. “You could’ve told me that before I put it on!”
“You would’ve only scolded your fingers, so no big deal. Plus, I would’ve healed it with the Halo rosary.”
“Nice to know,” I said, sarcastically.
“Sheesh, don’t be a baby.”
“A baby, eh? Who’s the one who looked like he was going to piss his pants before?”
“You’re a Stella, so you have no reason to be scared, while me? Putting this on,” he said, touching my rosary, “would’ve killed me if I wasn’t wearing the Halo rosary. Do you remember that time I touched it briefly in the hallway?”
I nodded.
“I felt like I’d touched nitro-glycerine. It stung like hell just from the briefest of touches.”
“Which is why I don’t understand why you wanted to try it on.”
“It didn’t hurt me when I touched it at Buckland’s Reserve. I was hoping it would do the same now it knows I’m not a danger to you.”
“Oh, you’re definitely a danger to me,” I said, placing my hands on his hips, happy he didn’t move away this time.
He laughed, the sound warming me from the inside out. I went to kiss him, but he took a step back, making my smile drop.
“You don’t want to kiss me now I have blue in my eyes?” I asked, upset.
He laughed again. “No, I wanted to talk about the rosaries.”
“We can still talk about them after we kiss, so stop laughing.”
“Not the way you kiss, babe. I’ll be flat on my back in a second, with your tongue down my throat.”
I placed my hands on my hips. “Oh, is that so, Mr. Feel-My-Boobs-Up?”
His eyes dropped to my chest, giving me the impression he wanted to live up to that name.
“My eyes are up here, mate,” I said, indicating to them.
“While my eyes are down here,” he said, still staring at my boobs. “Actually,” he looked back up. “Stuff the rosaries, give me that kiss.” He stepped closer to me.
I backed up. “A moment ago you didn’t want it, what makes you think I’ll give you one now?” I teased.
He cocked his head to the side. “You will.”
“Is that right, Mr. Cocky.”
Smirking, he placed his hand over his crotch. “Mr. Big Cock-y to you.”
I snorted out a laugh. “I need proof first.”
“If you insist.” He took hold of his zipper.
“No!” I said, not expecting him to actually show me.
He dropped his hand, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “I knew you’d chicken out.”
I grunted at him. “There’s no chickening out, you took a joke seriously and we’re here for the rosaries, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“You didn’t seem to care about them when you wanted a kiss.”
“That was before you tried to expose yourself, you dirty pervert.”
He snorted out a laugh. “I’m a dirty pervert? Who’s the one who said she needed proof?”
“I didn’t think you’d actually show me!”
“No, you’re all talk and no follow through.”
“Shut up!”
He laughed again.
Desperate to change the topic, I placed my hand over the Seraphim rosary. “How do I create flames?”
He cocked a brow. “Can’t handle the conversation, so you change the topic?”
“How do I create flames?” I repeated, having no intention of falling for his baiting.
He winked at me, looking smug, probably thinking he’d won our little battle. “Sometimes I just think about it and the flames come alive. Other times I don’t even think and it just happens. It’s innate for me, second nature. I don’t even have to be wearing them, as long as they’re next to me.”
“I’m going to give it a try.” I closed my eyes, imagining flames tickling my fingertips, disappointed when nothing happened. I tried again, this time really concentrating.
He laughed.
I opened my eyes. “What?!”
“You looked constipated.”
“I was trying to make them work,” I grunted.
“More like you were trying to take a merda.”
“A murder?” I asked, confused.
He grinned. “Merda is Italian for shit.”
“God, you’re such a prick,” I said, whipping his rosary off, annoyed it didn’t work for me. Unlike the Maris rosary, which called to me, I felt stuff all for his rosary, the slight vibration coming from it not enough proof it was of any use to me.
I held it out for him to take back. He went to take it, but hesitated, his gaze going to the door.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing back at it, worried someone was about to burst through.
“Can I see you on Saturday?”
When I was sure no one was going to walk in on us, I returned my attention to him. “I’m still grounded.”
“Get Nicky to cover for you. Tell your mother that you two need to study.”
“We don’t have any classes together. I do art and history, while she does music and drama.”
“Say you have to do drawings of different profiles or something, and that Nicky’s volunteered to help you out. Ask her to drop you off at Nicky’s house, then get Nicky to drive you to Boyd’s Reserve. I’ll meet you at the old red boatshed on Boyd’s Beach.”
“Okay,” I replied, thrilled that he wanted to see me so bad. I held his rosary out again for him to take.
“I thought you wanted to keep it,” he said.
“I didn’t think you’d let me,” I replied, a touch surprised.
He shrugged. “Maybe we can do a swap for a week, see how it goes.”
I hesitated, wondering whether I could give the fire beads another try. “No,” I finally decided, something telling me not to leave without my rosary. “I’d rather have mine.”
“But you said—”
“I’d like to try yours, but not give up mine for it.”
“Fine,” he grunted, returning my rosary, albeit begrudgingly.
I returned his too, relieved when mine was back around my neck. Looking upset, he stuffed both the Seraphim and Halo rosaries into his jeans.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
He dropped his gaze. “I don’t like having to sneak around to see you,” he said, the vulnerability coming off him in waves, so different from his cockiness only moments ago. It made me want to melt into him.
“I don’t like it either,” I replied, “but it won’t be like this forever.”
His chocolate-brown gaze flicked back up to me, his expression surprised. “You want to be with me forever?”
I laughed softly. “Not yet, Casanova. I hardly know you, but I do want to get to know you.”
His frown returned.
“Is that not what you want?” I asked, hoping he wanted to get to know me more too.
“Of course it’s what I want.”
I smiled and leaned forward, giving him a kiss, thinking I could get used to this, his lips like pillows, so soft and lovely. He kissed me back passionately, wrapping his arms around me, my arms automatically doing the same to him. He pulled me flush against his body, hugging me tight, making me gasp with excitement, Christopher rock hard.
He quickly pulled away, breaking our kiss. “I’ve got to go,” he stammered.
Turning to the door, he disappeared out it as if a demon was on his heels. With my heart pounding and my face on fire, I watched the door slam shut behind him.