Pinehurst: A Magical Olympian Adventure-Young Adult Romantic Adventure/Fantasy Novel (8 page)

Light laughter broke out.

“Detention Miss Wilcox.” She handed the book back to her sharply before returning to the front of the class.

I stuck my tongue out at Stacy—childish I know but I felt a thousand times better.

“Alright class.” Ms. Spicer hushed the loud chatter that had broken out. “You may begin reviewing chapters twelve and thirteen: your homework!” she announced firmly as she took her seat at her desk. “Quietly!”

We flipped open our books and studied “
quietly
” for the next thirty minutes.

I had my bag packed and was ready to dash out the door when the bell rang.

“Perhaps tomorrow, Miss Hollyander . . .” Ms. Spicer caught me at the door, “ . . .
you
may lead us in a demonstration on the Pagoma Spell?” She gave me a knowing look.

“Yes, Ms. Spicer.”

“Holly crap Evie, you’re like some kind of freaking super hero.” Gillian was over the top as we retreated across the lawn. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Yeah.” We paused outside the gym. “Sixth period P.E.”

She gave me a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see you at dinner?”

“If I’m still alive.” I turned and sulked away.

I got dressed for class with a few minutes to spare. I hustled out into the main room. The guys were already sparing. I felt like I was watching some sort of Kung Fu movie. There was no
way
I could do any of this.

“Hollyander! You made it.”

It was like déjà vu. All eyes were once again on me.

I cringed. I was never going to get used to Gunny’s voice. I turned around to face him, surprised by the wide smile on his face.

“Fall in,” he said.

The guys had already taken their places. I took my spot next to Arnold again.

“Now gentlemen,
and
lady,” Gunny gave a polite nod my way. “We are three-quarters through this school year. Surprisingly, you girls have managed to do an adequate job. But your performance will have to improve drastically if you hope to pass finals in three months time.”

A low groan reverberated around the room.

“If you
do not
pass finals,” Gunny’s voice thundered on, “you
will
be expelled from the program!”

I felt a smile creep across my face. A light at the end of this horrid tunnel shined brightly. I could hear the hallelujah chorus right now.

“Wipe that smirk off your face Hollyander! Failure is
not
an option.”

I huffed. “But you just said if we don’t pass—” I stopped, swallowing the rest of my sentence. The look on his face confirmed that failure was most definitely,
not
an option. Crap! Somehow, I
would
be passing this class. A large lump stuck in my throat.

“You will be paired up with partners.” Gunny was in fine form today. His booming voice echoed throughout the gymnasium. Too bad I didn’t know a spell for laryngitis!

“You will train daily.” He paced back and forth in front of us. Intimidation at its best. “For those of you that are lacking like
Thompson
here . . . for God’s sake Thompson, stand up straight
boy
this isn’t a rest home.”

I bit the inside of my mouth, trying not to laugh. Poor Thompson. He must be one of the boys Gunny had talked about: one whose parents were pushing him to become a slayer. He looked as excited to be here as I did.

“As I was saying,” Gunny cleared his voice. “For those of you that are
lacking
, extra training sessions
will
be implemented.”

I stifled a groan. “Extra training sessions” had my name written all over it.

“I suggest,” Gunny continued, “that unless you don’t want your partner kicking your butt for making him do double time, you pansies better pull your own weight.”

I grimaced. This was yet another reason these guys were going to hate me. There was no way I was going to pass this class without extra training sessions. Crap—my new word of choice. This was seriously going to hinder my social life. I could kiss all school dances and the prospect of a boyfriend goodbye. I’d be labeled as “homework” before class was over. No guy was going to hang out with the girl who caused extra training sessions. Why did every guy in the school have to aspire to be a slayer?

“Now. Listen for your names and pair up. Howard—Chambers. Andersen—Thompson. Bixby—Arnold, Vandenberg—Hollyander.”

The names went on and on. It didn’t matter. Aside from a few, I had no idea who these guys were.

I could hear a loud sigh behind me—Roland. I knew he didn’t want to partner up with me. I actually didn’t blame him. A girl and extra training to boot . . . this sucked! I wasn’t going to win any popularity contests around here. I was just about to let him off the hook when—

“Now, spread out and begin with basic hand to hand!” Gunny shouted.

“Excuse me, Gunnery Sergeant Jaxson, if I might make a suggestion?”

I turned my head to the bleachers behind me. I hadn’t even noticed him there. Sitting halfway up, looking amazingly hot in a tight black t- shirt and shorts. Antonio laid his book aside. He was the most gorgeous-looking bookworm I’d ever seen. I wondered if he was reading a romance? His eyes flickered to mine. A faint tinge of pink colored his cheeks.

“What is it Vasques?” Gunny boomed in an unusually polite tone. I’d have to mark this day down on the calendar.

“It seems hardly fair to pair Mr. Vandenberg up with Miss Hollyander. She’s new and will require much training if she’s to pass finals.” I listened to the words roll off his tongue. His thick accent even made his unintentional insult sound attractive. I think it was unintentional . . .? Who cared! My knees grew weak as he approached.

“I’ll be her partner,” Chad volunteered loudly as he stepped forward. The come-hither look on his face made me want to gag. “I don’t
mind
the extra training.”

A soft roar broke out.

“No!” Roland snapped. “You will not.” He moved toward me, his eyes flickering from Chad to me. The look on his face suggested that maybe he
had
heard about the
Chad incident
. He didn’t look happy.

It was sweet and all that Roland wanted to stick up for me, but I didn’t need his help. I could handle Chad. And anything else he
tried
to dish out.

Chad shrugged. “Just trying to be helpful. You know, taking one for the team. Someone needs to roll around with her.” He took a defensive position and sneered at Roland. So much for BFFs!

Antonio’s hands were on my shoulders, subtly moving me out of a potential war zone. He stood in front of me. His arms crossed. There was no doubt, if Chad so much as flinched my way, he was getting his ass kicked.

My heart fluttered at that. You had to love protective guys. I blushed.
He
could be my shield, any day.

“Easy boys,” Gunny asserted himself between them.     “No one will be
rolling
around with Hollyander . . . not unless they want
me
kicking their butt.” His eyes were on Chad, but the visual brought a collective groan throughout the room. Even I flinched.

“With your permission, Sir, I’d like to volunteer.” Antonio’s voice rang above the tension. His eyes still fixed on Chad.

Gunny laughed. Hard. “You’d kill her boy. She’s not ready to spar with you.”

“Of course, I’d never take the advantage, Sir.” Antonio sounded insulted. “I’ll take her on as my own student, I’m more than qualified.”

The soft roar faded into quiet whispers. They were all wondering the same thing I was. Why in the world would he want to train with me? Not that I was complaining. Visions of Antonio all hot and sweaty, pulling me close to him, ran wickedly through my mind. I could feel my cheeks heat up with embarrassment. I couldn’t believe I’d just had that thought!

“What do you say, Hollyander, you up to training with a real Slayer?”

“A Slayer?” I looked from Gunny to Antonio with wide eyes. My hot steamy daydream had evaporated. “He’s a Slayer?” He couldn’t be more than a few years older than I was.

“Alright Vasques, she’s yours. Do whatever you need to get her ready in time for trials.”

“Yes, Sir.” Antonio nodded, and then gave me a quick wink.

“Oh, and Vasques.
Please
don’t break her. I’d hate for her daddy to have to kill you.” Gunny chuckled as he strode off across the room. “Vandenberg! You’re with Martin.”

And with that, we broke into our groups.

I stood where I was; a statue. Had I just been paired with the hottest guy on campus? An older boy—a Slayer! I squealed mentally.

“This way, Evelyn.” Antonio’s soft voice spoke from behind me.

I turned around to admire the scenery, I mean Antonio. His six-foot tall frame stood over me by at least half a foot. His dark hair that once hung loosely around his face, was now tucked behind his ears, giving it a sexy, lazy look that made my knees wobble—again.

His dark brown eyes, black really, were deep and intense. I hadn’t been able to admire them fully earlier on the lawn. The bright sun had obscured my vision. I admired them now. His skin, golden and tanned, was proof that he spent most of his time in the sun. This was my personal trainer? Oh Baby! Maybe this class wasn’t going to be so bad after all?

I followed Antonio out the gym doors and onto the track field. The late afternoon sun was still blazing. Today was one of those rare “summer days” in Idaho; or so I’d been told. The air was uncharacteristically hot and I could feel the beads of sweat beginning to form instantly.

“Why are we out here?” I waved my hand back and forth in front of my face, trying to fan myself. “Aren’t we supposed to be inside, hitting each other or something?”

He looked stunned. “Do you want to hit me?”

“No. Well, I mean, aren’t we supposed to? Isn’t that what Slayers do?”

Antonio smiled. “Yes and no. I don’t plan on sparring with you for some time. I think it’s better if we start slow. We need to build your muscles up before you’re ready for any
real
physical activity.” His eyes looked me up and down with skilled thoroughness.

I huffed. Was he suggesting I was out of shape? How dare he! I was rock hard damn it! Well, almost. I was nearly seventeen. My thighs and butt were as firm as they would ever be.

Antonio cleared his throat. Blush now tinged his cheeks—weird! What did he have to be embarrassed about?

“So where do you want to start?” I grumbled.

“We’ll do a few laps around the track, then head into the weight room and work on some basic conditioning.”

I groaned mentally. “I don’t run.” I tried to look as put out as I sounded.

“You will,” Antonio promised with a smile, ignoring my warning.

He took off down the track. I followed, barely keeping in step. Sadly, it was obvious—he was taking it easy on me.

I started off okay, but by the second lap, I was wheezing again. I held onto my right side tightly. A painful stitch had rooted itself deep. I wanted to drop to the ground and cry. But of course I didn’t. There was no way I was going to cry in front of Antonio, and have him thinking I was a total baby.

I tried to distract myself with thoughts of how cute he was; even though I was still irritated by his earlier comment. I was sure that Antonio would break Gillian’s hot-o-meter in an instant. I glanced over at him. He was smiling again–must be an inside joke.

“So, what are you doing here?” I panted along-side him. I couldn’t believe it. He wasn’t even breaking a sweat! I was dying and he wasn’t even
breaking
a freaking sweat? How fair is that? I felt like one of the contestants on the “
Biggest Loser,
” only I wasn’t over weight. I was just un-athletic, having never exercised a day in my life practically. I was so
out of
this guy's league.

“I’m helping to train you.”

I frowned. “I know that. I meant, what are you doing at Pinehurst? You're a Slayer right? Aren’t you supposed to be . . . I don’t know . . . slaying something?” I panted.

Now
he
frowned. “You truly have no idea what a Slayer is, do you?”

“Not really. I only . . . found out my dad’s . . . some Guardian . . . slash . . . Slayer . . . the other day.”

“‘Guardian slash Slayer?’” He repeated me, his tone incredulous. “How did you get in this class?”

“Somebody’s . . . twisted . . . idea . . . of a joke.” I breathed heavily. I’d already established that running and talking were not a good combination for me. Why I persisted on doing it was beyond me. “It wasn’t . . . my choice. Believe me.”

Antonio slowed his pace, allowing me to catch my breath—there was a God!

“I’m here as a favor to someone,” he announced. “I was asked to supervise and help out with the class,” he admitted a few moments later.

“Some favor. Talk about a waste of time,” I breathed heavily. My heart still beat like a rabbit's but at least I could form whole sentences.

“I’ll let you know after a few weeks,” he murmured under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Never mind. Let’s finish this lap and head in.” He pushed on effortlessly, leaving me slightly behind. Show off.

I had to kick it into high gear to catch up—a mistake I wouldn’t be making again. I was practically wheezing now. “So, where are you from?”

“Valencia.”

I rolled my eyes mentally. Like I know where that is. Is it too much to expect that I might get a geographical location to my question?

His smile broadened, as if hearing my mental rant.
“That’s in Spain.”

“I knew that,” I lied. I didn’t want him to think I was a total idiot. “I studied geography.” Sort of . . . well . . . I’d taken the class anyway.

“So, how old are you?” I continued. “You’re so far from home. Your parents must really miss you. I’m sure your girlfriend does.” Careful Evie . . . reign it in. Don’t be too obvious. Why is he smiling like that? I swear he can hear my thoughts!

The corners of Antonio’s mouth curled up. “I’m nineteen. I’ve been away from home for a while now. I’m sure my parents miss me but they understand. I have a job to do.”

“Oh.” Oh? That’s my response? Oh. Could I sound any less intelligent? Okay. Think Evie, think. He’s nineteen . . . three years older . . . two really. I was practically seventeen. That’s not out of the realm of a
possibility,
is it? Dang it! He hadn’t mentioned a girlfriend? I gave him a sideways glance. There’s no way I could ask him again without sounding too obvious. He’ll think I’m interested, which of course I am.

“I’m not attached to anyone.”

“What?” I jumped out of my head.

“You asked if I had a girlfriend.”

“No. I just said she must miss you . . . if you had one that is. It’s not like I asked or anything.” I snorted, waving him off. Even through my wind-burned cheeks, I could feel the blush on my face. Damn this Irish skin. I had to be glowing. I jogged on.

“My apologies.” His voice was solemn.

“So you
don’t
have a girlfriend?” I reiterated.

“I thought you weren’t interested?” He smirked, still keeping his eyes forward.

Damn if he wasn’t frustrating. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think he was enjoying this. “I’m not interested. I just didn’t want to be rude. You commented, and I thought I should acknowledge . . .”

“No.”

“No, I shouldn’t acknowledge?”

“No. I do not have a girlfriend.”

“Oh, no girlfriend huh?” I tried to hide my excitement. Ahahh! Focus Evie! You don’t want to trip and look like a klutz. Ask him something. Anything! Change the subject! You’ve still got that smirk on your face, he’s gonna see how excited you are . . .

“So. Why are you helping me?” I asked. Oh my God, how can he not have a girlfriend? The very laws of nature were against it. It was almost a sin. Who was I kidding? It was a sin!

Antonio chuckled.

“What’s so funny?” Had I missed something?

“Nothing.”

My eyes narrowed.

“I’m here because you need me.”

“What?” I had to follow along better. He was going to think I was mental.

“You need me,” he repeated earnestly.

YES! I do need you. I need you to take me into your arms and—“Umph” I landed, arms out, skidding on my stomach like I’d just stolen home base.

“Evelyn!” Antonio rolled me over gently. His soft eyes looked me over. “Are you alright?” he asked.

I thought about that. I think I was physically okay, but my pride would be wounded forever. “Evie.”

“What?”

“My name's Evie.” I dusted the dirt off my hands and legs and took inventory: No cuts, scrapes, or limbs going in opposite directions. “I’m fine.” Although, if there was any mercy in this world, a giant hole would open and swallow me now!
How
embarrassing
!

“Can you stand up?” He snaked one arm around my back and helped me to my feet. Oh the heat of his body . . . it could melt a glacier.

“Sorry, I must have tripped on a rock or something.” I could feel my cheeks burning again. He had to think I was a total loser.

“No.” The back of Antonio's fingers brushed my cheek. “I don’t think that.”

Oh my God, he was touching my face! And looking at me with those dreamy eyes! Ahahh! I squealed mentally. I took in a big breath. Aftershave! He shaves . . . Wait! Did he just say “
no
?” As in, he didn’t think I was a total loser? I hadn’t actually said that . . . aloud. What was going on?

He lowered his hand. “Are you sure you’re alright? He gave me a long look. “We could call it a day?” I could definitely sense the concern in his voice. How
sweet
!

“No! I mean I’m fine. Really.” He was sweet to worry, but there was no way I was going to wimp out. “Come on.”

We resumed our run. This time, my eyes were on the ground ahead. I couldn’t risk tripping and really injuring myself. The thought of getting hurt and not being able to train with Antonio made my chest start to ache. Mercifully, we finished in the weight room an hour later.

In
my
expert
opinion, having endured two full days of
Hell
, sixth period P.E is a two-hour, brutal work out; designed to break the human spirit, and
smother
it into oblivion—a hot shower was the only thing I wanted.

“Decided to take a shower, Hollyander?”

I spun halfway around, soapsuds still sliding down my body.

“Nice!” Chad grinned. “You think I might get a front view?”

I screamed as I did my best to cover myself with my hands.

I’m not sure if it was my blood-curdling screaming or the look of sheer murder in my eyes, but Chad, the ass, took off and ran like a bat out of hell.

I grabbed my towel from a hook on the wall and ran to my locker. Not even bothering to dry off, I threw on my sweat shirt and pants, and ran barefoot out of the locker room with my hair, still dripping wet.

“CHAD BIXBY HOW COULD YOU!” In a fraction of a second, I’d crossed the ten-foot gap between us and threw myself on a still grinning Chad. Like a ball of fury, I hit him with everything I had. He threw me from him effortlessly, only to have me come back for more. I wanted blood!

“Oh, come on. Like I was going to pass up on an opportunity like that,” he boasted, as he struggled now, to fight me off.

“You Pervert!”

“Evie!” Strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind, pulling me off Chad.

I knew the voice. I couldn’t stop. I was filled with so much rage, that only my fingers, gouging Chad’s eyes out, was going to release it. I kicked and fought like a wild cat, trying to break free.

“Evie stop!” Antonio commanded.