Forks, Book Two Page 6

  “Sorry,” I muttered, heading to my desk. For God’s sake, it was only three stupid minutes. After being with Viktor I had somehow completely forgot about Glinda until I saw her. Her china blue eyes glittered strangely under the fluorescent lights as I sat down.

  “What happened to you?” she asked as the teacher started talking.

  I acted like I didn’t hear her and pulled out my notebook and pen.

  A few minutes later a balled up piece of paper landed on my desk. Sighing, I pulled it apart and read what she wrote.

  Where you been???

  I felt like writing that I was recovering from the stab wound in my back but didn’t. Instead, I scribbled my lie.

  I was sick!!!

  Balling back up the paper, I tossed it back at her and then put up my hand shield. I could hear her unrolling the paper and then she made an exasperated sound.

  When she threw the paper back at me, it hit me in the side of the head. A flash of irritation shot through me. I felt like pinging her back in the head with it. Instead, I read what she wrote.

  Oh, no! :( She made a sad face. “Are you okay?”

  Duh! :/

  I made an angry face on the paper and flung it back at her. It overshot her head and landed across the room near the heater.

  The teacher, in the middle of his lecture, grabbed up the paper ball and tossed it in the trash, which thankfully brought an end to the note writing.

  When the bell rang, I was ready for it. With my bag on my shoulder, I jumped from my seat and headed out of class before Glinda could catch up with me. Diving into the flow of warm bodies, I headed in the opposite direction.

  Rounding the corner, I was pretty pleased with myself until I face planted into a body.

  “Where’s the fire, Tiger?”

  My betraying heart flipped at the sound of his voice. “I’m late,” I lied and tried to barrel past.

  “Amber, what’s wrong?” He blocked my escape.

  I didn’t want to look at his face but there was no way around it. My eyes slid up from his red “Flash” symbol t-shirt and into his glittering green eyes. Immediately, I felt heat rise to my face, not from embarrassment though like I normally would have but from anger. I glared at him.

  “Whoa!” He put his hands up and took a step back. “What’s with the look?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I snipped.

  “Brrrr…” He rubbed his arms, acting cold, trying to be funny.

  I wasn’t amused. “I gotta get to class.” I brushed past him.

  “Hey, wait…” He caught up and kept pace beside me.

  I kept my head down, ignoring him, until he stepped in front of me and stopped my progress again.

  “Would you move?”

  “Sure.” A pained look crossed his face. “Don’t let me keep you.” He motioned for me to pass.

  A quiver of uncertainty shot through me, but I kept right on going.

  “Yeah, it was great to see you, too,” he called after me, sounding mad.

  I didn’t care though. Actually, I felt like flipping him off. “Have fun with Glinda,” I muttered feeling the sickening sting of their betrayal bubble back to the surface again.

  I was halfway down the connecting hall. A hand closed over my shoulder, stopping my hasty escape. I ground my teeth and turned. “What?” I glared at him.

  “What did I do?”

  The pained expression was back on his face and I had the sudden urge to say something nice, to take away that look, but I just couldn’t. “I’m late.” Stupid tears welled in my eyes.

  “Hey…” he said softly, as he reached out and placed the tips of his fingers under my chin, forcing my blurry eyes to his. “What’s wrong?” His brows creased with concern. I almost caved and told him, but what would be the point? It wouldn’t undo what happened.

  “Nothing,” I said. “I’m just not feeling good.” God, I was such a bad liar.

  “What can I do?” He dipped his head down to look at me.

  “Just let me go.” I brushed past him again.

  “What if I can’t?”

  That stopped me in my tracks. I turned and looked at him, really looked at him. He had dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t been sleeping well and immediately I felt a pang of something akin to guilt settle deep in my belly. “I don’t know,” I finally said because I didn’t.

  “Amber, I’m sorry.”

  “What for?” I choked back my stupid tears that were threatening to come out.

  “For whatever I did to make you look at me…like…you hate me,” he whispered on a breath of air but I could hear him loud and clear.

  His words went straight to my heart and the wall I had put up started collapsing. “I don’t… hate you.”

  He swiped his hand over his forehead in an exaggerated gesture and his dimple appeared for a brief moment. “We good?”

  My heart did an involuntary flutter. I wanted to say, no, we weren’t good because I wanted to stay mad at him, to hurt him like he hurt me, I really did, but I somehow just couldn’t. “Sure.” I gave him a slight smile in return.

  “Can I see you later, just talk?” he asked, his eyes pleading.

  “I can’t.”

  “Can’t or won’t?” His expression hardened.

  “I really can’t, I have this thing with Mom,” I dropped another doozy of a lie.

  “Okay.” He didn’t look like he believed me and I couldn’t say as I blamed him. “We still… friends?”

  “Sure,” I told him, feeling another swell of tears about to slip from my eyes. “I really gotta go.” I turned back around and started walking before he saw me start blubbering like an idiot.

  “Catch you later,” he called after me.

  Briskly walking away, I flung my arm out in a half-hearted wave.

  “Liar…”

  That pulled me up short. I spun around, but the hall was empty.

  eleven

  After I left Vincent, school seemed to pass by at a snail’s pace, which was nothing new for a Friday. Taking a breath, I pushed in through the door to Turtle’s class.

  Once again, my eyes went straight to Viktor’s seat, except he wasn’t in it, but Viola was in hers and as usual, she was kicking the crap out of my chair. When she saw me, a shit-eating grin slid over her face like she knew something that I didn’t. I ignored her, or tried to, as I reached for my chair.

  Just as I touched the back of my chair, she kicked it hard and it went skidding across the class.

  The class snickered loudly.

  She smirked.

  I felt like throwing my books at her head.

  “Ms. Davis,” Ms. Campbell screeched.

  I tensed. Making my face expressionless as possible, I turned around. “Yes, Ms. Campbell,” I said as politely as I could.

  She rolled her eyes and let out an exasperated sigh that quickly turned into another hacking fit. “Sit down,” she wheezed as she coughed up a mouthful of phlegm.

  Gross.

  Walking across the room, I dragged my chair away from Viola’s and sat down.

  “Now, that everyone has decided to…”

  The door opened in the middle of her diatribe. Her face turned a light shade of purple. “For the love of…” She spun around about to lose it on whoever walked in, but once she saw who it was she did a one eighty. “Well, hello, Mr. Roth,” she practically purred his name. “Please take a seat.” She eyed him appreciatively as he walked across the room like she had a thing for him. It was kind-of gross to watch.

  “Sorry for being late, Ms. Campbell,” he said as he slid into his seat.

  “Oh,” she tittered. “Not a problem, Mr. Roth.”

  I rolled my eyes and stabbed my notebook with my pen.

  She started talking again, droning on about something that I wasn’t listening to. Instead, I was trying to look at Viktor without him noticing. I shouldn’t have worried though because he didn’t even look over at me once. Actually, it seemed l
ike he didn’t even see me sitting here. Irritated, I stabbed my notebook a few more times until I made a nice hole in it.

  “Ms. Davis,” Mrs. Campbell screeched.

  “Huh?” I glanced up at her blotched red face. She looked like she was about to have an apoplectic fit.

  She pursed her pink frosted lips, which made her look like she was sucking on a lemon. “What was the name?”

  “The what?” I had no idea what she was talking about, mostly because I wasn’t listening to her.

  “We discussed this yesterday,” she said none too nicely and then let out another exasperated sigh.

  “I wasn’t here yesterday,” I informed her.

  “Oh, right.” She waved her hand dismissively. “Well, you will need to know this.” She walked over to the wall cabinet and opened it up. “I don’t have any more books,” she grumbled. Turning she clasped her hands together over her substantial belly. “Who wants to share their book with Ms. Davis for the exam Tuesday?”

  The entire class went silent. In fact, it was so quiet, I could have heard a pin drop,—the silence was deafening.

  My face turned five shades of red.

  “Someone? Anyone? Really…?” She sighed audibly, shaking her head. “Well, Ms. Davis, it looks like you’ll have to stay after and…”

  “I can share mine with her,” Viktor finally said.

  “Thank you, Mr. Roth,” she practically purred.

  I could hear Viola making a gagging sound behind me.

  Female dog.

  The rest of class was blissfully uneventful with the exception of Ms. Campbell perching her substantial butt cheek on the edge of her desk as she swung her orthopedic Earth Mama shoe back and forth and droned on about who knew what for the rest of class.

  When the bell rang, I was half-asleep. Everyone scrambled to leave and a bag whacked me in the back of my head. Rubbing the sore spot, I looked up. Big surprise, Viola was smirking at me.

  Cressida stepped up in front of her and stroked Viktor’s arm. I had a sudden urge to smack her hand away.

  Viktor didn’t seem to mind though. He was smiling at her. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I grumbled as I shoved my books in my bag. When I looked up again, he was staring right at me with an amused look on his face. I swallowed hard.

  A sharp pain shot through my foot as someone stomped on the top making me break eye contact. “Donkeyhole!”

  “Did you just call me a donkeyhole?” Glinda’s small cherubic face was a cross between horror and amusement.

  “If the name fits…” I snipped and slung my bag over my shoulder.

  “Someone’s in a testy mood.”

  “Yeah, so…”

  Her light blonde brows creased. “What happened to you earlier?”

  “When?”

  “Earlier, when you left me.”

  “I had someplace to be.”

  Her brow hitched up a notch. “If you say so.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “If I didn’t know better I would think you were avoiding me.”

  “And your point would be…” I lifted my brow at her in turn. I wasn’t in the mood to chitchat. I didn’t even want to talk to her right now.

  “Luckily for you I don’t let silly things upset me or you would be in for a world of hurt.” Her eyes flashed strangely under the fluorescent lights.

  “Funny, I thought you already took care of that,” I snipped back.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Her frown deepened, making her brows form a straight line.

  I wasn’t going to tell her I saw her with Vincent. I didn’t even mean to say this much. “Nothing.”

  “Phew,” she exhaled and swiped her hand over her forehead just like Vincent had done. “And here I thought you were mad at me.” She shook her head. “I even said to myself, Glinda, why would Amber not want to talk to you?”

  “And what did you tell yourself?”

  “I told myself that you wouldn’t do that cuz we are besties.” She bumped her shoulder into mine.

  “Is that so?” I deadpanned.

  “What’s wrong with you?” She gave me a weird look.

  I shrugged. “Got me.”

  “Well,” she sighed. “Whatever crawled up your butt better crawl back out or I may have to go to the Psycho Social without you next weekend.”

  “Is that a promise?”

  She giggled in that maniacal way of hers again. “You’re so funny.”

  “Yeah, I’m a real riot.”

  “You are,” she laughed harder.

  By the time I got rid of Glinda, Viktor was gone. So I had no idea if we were still meeting or not. And since I still didn’t have his number, I couldn’t even call him to find out.

  For once, it wasn’t raining when I left school but it was really foggy. The air was cloying, and even though the usual dampness hung in the air, there was no wind.

  As I walked to my car, I realized that I wasn’t even that mad at Glinda or Vincent anymore. I even told her I would go to the Psycho Social with her next week just so she would stop asking me about it. And I even reluctantly agreed to, maybe…do lunch with her over the weekend. I would just see if I had a relapse and get mad at them again.

  Actually, as of right now, not only my mood, but everything else seemed to hang in the balance depending on what may or may not happen tonight with Viktor. At least I would have a clear conscience if something did—or so I told myself repeatedly.

  Besides, what would be the point of being mad at them? I didn’t own them and they didn’t owe me anything. I even told Vincent I couldn’t date and when Glinda had asked, I told her that I didn’t like him, either. Even though I thought she knew that I liked him, but whatever. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe Vincent didn’t know either because of how I acted after we kissed. So what was the point of being mad? Or so I told myself every time that emotion began to bubble to the surface again. God, I was a walking conundrum. I couldn’t figure myself out so why would anyone else? Now, that was the million-dollar question.

  twelve

  Fifties music was blaring from the kitchen as I walked in the front door. Turning to hang up my bag, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror and groaned. My hair was three times the size as it was when I went to school.

  Great.

  Now I would have to blow it out again or I would look like a shocked poodle when Viktor showed…if he showed. I still wasn’t real sure if he was coming over or not. Still, I didn’t want to take any chances. So I headed over toward the stairs to get ready, just in case.

  “Amber,” Mom called from the kitchen.

  Groaning, I dropped my foot off the stair and headed towards the kitchen.

  Mom was dancing around, swinging her hips back and forth, and singing at the top of her lungs with a spoon in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. She had on her frilly apron and she was cooking. Shaking my head, I shut my eyes and then reopened them again.

  Nope. I wasn’t seeing things. Mom really was cooking. Wow.

  “What ya cooking Mom?” I called over the music.

  She kept right on singing and did a little two-step as she scooted over in front of me and grabbed my hand. Spinning me around, she bumped her hip against mine. She kept singing and bumping my hip. I loved it when Mom was silly like this. It reminded me of when I was younger. We bumped hips a few more times as I laughed with her. It felt good to laugh.

  The song finally ended and she swiped her hand over her brow and took another sip of her wine.

  Reaching over, I turned down the volume on the old radio she had set up on the counter beside her stack of oldie’s cassette tapes. That was the thing about my mom—she wasn’t into using any of the modern devices like iPods or anything other than a phone. And even though I told her she could listen to her music on her phone too, she said she preferred to listen to her music the ‘old way’, or so she told me often when I asked.

  “That was fun.” She set her wine glass down and p
ushed her hair away from her reddened face.

  “Yeah, it was,” I agreed smiling at her.

  “How does dinner smell?”

  “It smells really good.” And it did. Shocker. “What are you making?”

  “It’s Chicken Surprise. I’m making it for Ken.” She beamed, looking pretty proud of herself and lifted her glass once more.

  “Oh. Oh…” My brows rose. She hadn’t made Chicken Surprise since I was a kid, which usually consisted of canned chicken dumped on top of lumpy rice. I hoped for Ken’s sake this version was better because the dish I remembered was pretty gross.

  “What’s the look for?” She frowned.

  “Oh, nothing,” I covered. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her feelings. “What’s the occasion?”

  “It’s me and Ken’s month-a-versary.”

  “Wow.” Monthaversary? Where’d she get that from?

  “I read an article in your Cosmopolitan.” She lifted her wine glass and took another sip.

  Now I understood. Mom was famous for reading articles about stuff and then she would get some crazy idea to try them out on her latest and greatest squeeze. I just hoped it worked out better with Ken than it had in the past with her other ‘friends’.

  “When is he coming over?”

  “I think around seven or eight.” She turned back towards the stove, set her glass down on the counter, and lifted the lid off one of the pots on top.

  Dangit. That was the same time Viktor was supposed to come over. Oh well, maybe Ken would get here early because I didn’t want Mom getting all touchy with Viktor when he showed.

  “Will you set the table in the dining room with the nice china for me?”

  “Um…” I glanced at the clock on the stove. It was already five. “Yeah, I ah…”

  “What?” She seemed to sense my distress.

  “Well, I kind-of have plans,” I said but quickly added, “I mean, if it’s all right.” I knew if I didn’t she would get all-indignant, thinking I was being presumptuous.