Becoming Alpha (6 page)

Fancy Braid Girl grabbed the corner of my T-shirt. “Who’s this? I’m Lindsay, by the way.” She cocked her head, waiting for me to answer.

It took me a second to realize she was talking about my shirt. “Um…The Orb is one of my favorite groups.”

“It’s really soft. Has to be printed on something better than American Apparel for sure. Lemme check.” She reached toward me, but I leaned away. “Don’t freak. I’m just checking the label.”

Her fingers brushed against the back of my neck.

“Oh, Lindsay. You’re so soft,” Dimple Boy said. His voice was muffled as his lips moved along her neck.

Ew, gross!

The seatbelt dug into Lindsay’s back. She was giddy as his wet lips pressed against hers.

I banged my elbow on the table, jolting me back to the lunchroom.

“Yup. Printed on Splendid,” Lindsay said.

I looked around as I rubbed my elbow, but no one seemed to notice anything weird. At least I hadn’t said anything to give away the vision.

“Her jeans are J Brand,” Rosalyn said. “I bet she has good stuff stashed in her closet. She’ll be a good addition.”

I slowly inhaled and exhaled to let the aftershocks of the vision fade from my body, before trying to speak. They were going to be sorely disappointed if they thought they were going to raid my clothes. I’d never be able to wear anything they borrowed again, and shopping really wasn’t my thing. “I don’t really pay much attention to brands, but I like to do screen printing. Splendid’s shirts are my favorite to work with.”

Lindsay made a face at that, but then Dimple Boy asked a question. From then on it was a solid twenty-five minutes of being barraged with a million and one questions about LA. By the time the bell rang, my palms were sweating. I itched to take off my gloves and let my skin breathe, but that was so not an option.

Rosalyn and I left the cafeteria together since it turned out we had almost the exact same schedule. We’d better end up being actual friends, or else this school year would be really painful. Someone shouted my name. Dimple Boy was chasing after us.

“I wanted to let you know we’re having a party on Saturday night. You know, to celebrate the start of a new year. You should come.” He winked at Rosalyn. “She knows where I live.”

Rosalyn took a step forward and linked her arm in mine. We were both wearing short-sleeved T-shirts. Our skin touched.

Rosalyn’s face was red. “I can’t believe you’d do this. You know Lindsay is coming over later, and look at this place!”

An older woman was laying half-on, half-off a couch. Beer cans littered the floor. A grease covered pizza box was on a coffee table in front of her. Cigarette butts covered the rest of the table. “I’ll clean up. Don’t you worry, baby.” Her words were slurred.

The stench of alcohol filled the air, stinging my nostrils. Rosalyn’s anger and frustration consumed me.

I stumbled, and my arm pulled free from hers.

Rosalyn stared at me. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just a little clumsy. Sorry,” I managed to say. Rosalyn might seem normal, but from what I just saw, her home life was a hot mess. I was starting to feel bad for her.

“Carlos’ parties are always crazy.”

Wait. Did I get invited to a party? Nice.

“Just so you know, Carlos and I are together. He’s probably only inviting you because you’re new. No offense.”

…and not feeling bad for her anymore.

I barely contained my eye roll. I hated when people said “no offense” or “I don’t mean to be rude.” If someone is going to say something rude or offensive, they should just say it or not. Trying to pawn it off as something
not
rude or offensive when it clearly was, was beyond insulting.

She might have thought she was doing herself a favor by warning me off her manwhore of a boyfriend, but she really should’ve been more concerned about what her “friends” were doing behind her back. When I thought about it, the whole thing was kind of sad. And damn it. Now I was feeling bad for her again.

“Anyway. I’m sure we can find something to make you look presentable for the party.”

Every time I started to feel a little bit of sympathy for the girl, she hit me with a backhanded comment. I officially decided to cut off my feelings for her. She was clearly using me to feel more “LA,” whatever that meant, and I was using her to get to the party. With any luck, I’d make some actual friends there.

Pathetic as it was, my mind drifted back to Dastien. I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be there. The chances seemed slight, but still, a girl could dream.

When Saturday finally came around, I didn’t even want to get out of bed. Rosalyn’s friends had tentatively let me in their group, but they grew even more touchy-feely with every day that passed.

What was it with Texans and invasion of personal space?

It was exhausting keeping my visions under control. I’d thought about ditching my new friends, but there was no mistaking that my family had moved here for me. I owed it to my parents and myself to give it my all. When I hit my breaking point, I’d reassess what my goals were. But for now, I could handle it. I would try to be a normal kid. And normal meant having friends and hanging out with said friends.

Still, a little escapist therapy in the form of a new book would help cleanse my brain of all the unneeded background information I’d gotten over the past few days.

I rolled out of bed at noon, and got ready as quickly as my sleepy body would allow. I threw on a pair of well-worn yoga pants, the first T-shirt I could find, threw my hair up in a messy bun, and headed downstairs. Axel was in the kitchen digging into a bowl of cereal.

“I’m hitting the bookstore. Wanna join?” Bookstores were my kind of place. All those shiny books, lightly touched by only a couple of people. Each one held a different world, a different life to disappear into.

That said, libraries were a total nightmare scenario. Too many hands touched those books and turning pages with gloves on was a bit too cumbersome.

“You want me to go to a bookstore?” Axel narrowed his gaze at me. “Yeah. Not going to happen.”

Axel hadn’t ever read anything cover to cover. I wasn’t sure how he was going to do the whole college thing when I wasn’t there to help him with his homework. I grabbed my purse and dug through it for my keys. “It’s at the mall, dork.”

“In that case, yes.” He put his now empty cereal bowl in the sink. “But I get to drive your car.”

He made a grab for my keys, but I dodged around the center island. “What! No way. Only I get to drive my car.”

“I picked it out, but Dad drove it here. I should at least get a turn before I leave. Deal?” He held out his hand, as if I’d just hand over the keys.

“No deal. I’m not having you imbue the driver’s seat with whatever stuff you’ve got going on in your head. There’s such a thing as TMI between siblings. I’ll go by myself.”

He sighed dramatically. “Fine. You can drive, but I pick the music.”

“Fine.” Now I just had to let my parents know where we were going. “Where are Mom and Dad?”

He shrugged. “Dunno. They were gone when I got up.”

Weird. They were usually around on the weekends when Dad wasn’t working. I headed for the door.

“Wait. You didn’t eat any breakfast.”

“Not hungry.” I usually didn’t get hungry until after I was up for a bit. Today was no exception. I had too much on my mind to be hungry.

The bookstore was attached to the only mall in town. It was a brown blob of a building, with a JCPenny’s and Macy’s on either end. The bookstore branched off the mall on the Macy’s end, and had an entrance from the outside. I left Axel to his search for a new pair of jeans, and pushed open the glass doors to the bookstore.

Fans blasted me with cold air, refreshing after the 110-degree weather outside. The scent of flavored coffee wafted over me. The baristas were hard at work, making yummy caffeinated concoctions. I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the calm seep in. There wasn’t much to this town, but at least I had this bit of zen, and that was nothing to look down upon.

I veered over to the science fiction and fantasy section, and searched for any new epic fantasy releases. I was still looking through titles when I bumped into a body.

That wasn’t like me. I was usually hyper-aware of the people around me. “Excuse me,” I said without looking up. “I didn’t hear you.”

“It’s okay.”

That voice made goosebumps spread over my skin. I spun.

He was taller up close. At least a foot taller than me. But it was his golden eyes that held me captive.

Dastien.

It took me a second to speak. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” He asked.

It took me a second too long to answer. “I’m sorry. My mind seems to be MIA.”

Then he smiled, his eyes scrunched at the corners and his lips spread to reveal perfect teeth. His black hair was flecked with auburn highlights. And there was something sexy about the way he held himself, standing up straight with his right hip slightly cocked.

I melted on the spot. Who could withstand him? More importantly, who would want to?

“You’re Tessa McCaide, right? Staying at the yellow house?”

I stared down at my feet, unable to keep eye contact for one more second. And crap. Why did my beat-up-to-hell Nine Inch Nails t-shirt have to be the one on top? The one with the silver dollar sized hole just to the left of my belly button.

Perfect. On the day I looked like a homeless weirdo the hottest guy ever wanted to talk to me. The one guy who made me feel things I couldn’t even begin to describe. It was more than attraction, though that was there in spades. I was drawn to him.

“I’m Dastien Laurent.” An accent peeked through as he spoke and held out a hand.

I couldn’t turn it down.

“Do you always wear gloves?”

“Usually.” My face burned. “I’m not supposed to be talking to St. Ailbe’s kids.”

He laughed, golden eyes glittering. “I’m not exactly a St. Ailbe’s kid anymore. I graduated already.” He leaned in closer to me, and his warm breath tickled my cheek. “I’m okay. Promise,” he said with a low voice. He hadn’t let go of my hand, and I didn’t want him to.

“Nine Inch Nails, huh?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“You look too sweet to like Trent.”

I dropped mouth open. No one had ever accused me of being sweet.

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s your favorite song?”

Now that was a serious question. Did I go old school or new? I loved most everything. Song titles quickly ran through my mind. ‘Survivalism.’ No. ‘God Given.’ No. Maybe I should say ‘Ringfinger.’ Yes. That was it. “I’m going with ‘Closer.’”

My face was intently hot as he laughed. Holy Freudian slip, Batman. Leave it to me to tell the hottest guy ever that one of my favorite song’s chorus was a guy yelling about how he wants to fu—“do” them like an animal.

I covered my face with my hands. “I meant ‘Terrible Lie.’ I swear. Seriously. Forget the other song I mentioned.”

He was still laughing. “Don’t think that’s going to happen, but I won’t mention it. Both choices were solid. Pretty Hate Machine is a classic album, so your second choice was pretty good.” He leaned in again. “But I liked your first choice better.”

Oh. My. God. Was he flirting with me over my favorite band ever?

This was it. We had the same musical taste. He was clearly meant for me. I wouldn’t fight destiny when it brought something like this to me.

He stepped into my personal space, and I didn’t step away. “You know—”

Another guy appeared in the aisle saying something in a language I couldn’t understand. His chartreuse eyes stood out against his fair skin.

I took a step away from Dastien, but he shook his head at me. Why, I had no idea. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through his head when I couldn’t form a coherent thought.

Dastien and his friend spoke rapidly in what might have been French. They were wearing identical outfits—black jeans and black t-shirts. It was weird, but neutral enough that it could’ve been a coincidence.

Dastien’s friend nodded at me and then walked away.

I didn’t have time to wonder what their exchange was all about. Dastien kissed the back of my hand, and my brain turned to mush.

Wait. He was going to leave?

My pulse echoed in my ears.

“I’ll see you soon,” he said as he let my hand go.

“Sure,” I said but his back was already to me as he walked away. He looked over his shoulder at me and winked.

That should be illegal. Seriously.

I leaned back hard against the bookshelf. It rattled, but thankfully didn’t tip over. I fanned myself for a second. That guy made me sweat.

“I’ll see you soon?” I whispered his words to myself. I glanced around the bookshelf to see if he was gone. What did that mean? When would he see me?

The bookstore suddenly lost its appeal. There was only one thing for a girl to do when she had a close encounter with a guy that hot.

Ice cream. I needed lots and lots of ice cream. Even if it was my breakfast. It had milk and maybe eggs. That totally counted.

I peeked at my watch. I still had twenty minutes before I was supposed to meet up with Axel. I meandered through the mall until I found the food court, grabbed a sugar cone with a scoop of chocolate chip, my favorite, and went outside to wait.

A lone cement bench sat outside the front of the entrance closest to where I’d parked. I settled down to eat my cone as I watched three guys try to hit on a girl. They were laughing and punching each other as they vied for her attention. The boys were hot and so ripped their T-shirts could be mere seconds away from tearing at the seams. There had to be something in the water
here. I didn’t recognize the guys from school, but I knew the girl was in my Pre-calc class. I searched my memory for her name and drew a blank.

I angled away from them, hoping she wouldn’t see me, but I couldn’t stop myself from watching. One of the guys, a blond one with a bit too much muscle for my tastes, seemed to be in the lead. She flirted with him, brushing his shoulder as she talked. He sat down on an oversized planter that held a half-dead shrub, and drew her in closer to him. The other two guys started to make fun of the blond one.