Threads That Bind (Havoc Chronicles Series Book 1) (3 page)

BOOK: Threads That Bind (Havoc Chronicles Series Book 1)
6.39Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Hesitantly, I nodded and was even more surprised when Josh picked up my tray and carried it for me. We sat down and were greeted with mixed reactions. Megan Richardson a tall, thin girl with gorgeous blonde hair, gave us an impassive look. She was the captain of the girls’ soccer team and was already being recruited by colleges. It took a lot to ruffle her. Selma Torres looked wary, probably wondering how my presence would change things.

The boys seemed more curious than anything else. Although they didn’t say anything, I could see Mason Cross and Taylor Simpson trying to listen in while I talked with Josh.

At first I was extremely nervous sitting at a table talking with Josh, but I quickly discovered he had a talent at putting people at ease – or at least me – and I eventually found myself relaxing.

I gave him the entire story of what had happened over the summer – almost crashing my mom’s car when my vision changed, gagging on ice cream, and even about how worried my parents were.

Before I knew it, lunch was over and it was time to go back to class. Everyone else had left the table and Josh and I were the only ones remaining. For the first time since I sat down, there was an awkward pause. Well, awkward for me at least. Josh appeared completely relaxed and continued to smile at me. I wondered if he suspected how powerfully that smile affected me.

I took a last drink and put my cup on my tray. “Well, I should probably go to my next class.”

Josh took our trays and dumped them. “Let me walk you back to your locker.”

Our walk through the hallways generated quite a few stares. I could imagine the gossip racing through the halls, spreading like a wildfire fanned by a hot wind. While today was the first day I had actually ever had
good
gossip being spread about me, it still made me uneasy.

While I got my notebook out of my locker, Josh leaned against the wall and watched me, his deep brown eyes focused and intent. I grew so flustered that I dropped my history folder.

“Why are you doing that?” I asked.

“Doing what?” Although I didn’t think it was possible, his grin grew even wider. He knew exactly what I was talking about.

I narrowed my eyes in mock anger. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Josh Lancaster. You haven’t stopped staring at me for the past half hour.”

He reached out a hand and brushed a strand of hair out of my face. “I happen to enjoy looking at you. Is there something wrong with that?”

I bent my head down to let my hair obscure my face. It was an old, protective reaction to being watched, and this time I used it to help hide my embarrassment.

Josh reached out and lifted my chin. “What are you doing this Friday?” he asked.

My mouth grew very dry. Every ounce of moisture evaporated in the space of six words from Josh. Would I ever be comfortable around him? These involuntary nervous reactions were really starting to get old.

I took a deep breath and wished for something to drink. “Nothing,” I said and to my surprise my voice sounded clear and confident.

“You want to go out?” he asked.

This was the point where I was sure I was going to wake up. Honestly, the limits of believability had been reached and reality had been stretched too far for this to be anything but a dream. There was no way Josh was actually asking me out on a date. Was I going to look down and realize that I was in my underwear too?

But there was no shifting of scene, no running in slow motion or even any underwear. It was one hundred percent scary-real.

It was time to use my acting skills. I took a long blink and used that time to imagine that I was in a scene in a play. When I opened my eyes, I was no longer awkward, shy, Madison. I was the quirky heroine being asked out by the lead male role.

“That depends on where we’re going,” I said. Did that really come out of my mouth? I watched his reaction with an outer façade of calm, but inside I was screaming at my own stupidity. What if he didn’t like smart-alecky girls? What if he thought I was too rude and changed his mind? Oh, why didn’t I just say “yes” and be done with it?

Josh chuckled. “I was planning an evening of hard labor and beatings, but since you appear to be so picky, we could try going out to dinner.”

“Well, as long as there are no beatings,” I said, and this time I was the one who smiled. As I did, I saw Josh’s face light up, and I was so surprised by it that I almost lost my quirky heroine façade.

He hadn’t been sure I would say yes.

This wasn’t a pity date; he actually wanted to go out with me.

As Josh turned around and walked to his next class, I realized that everything had changed as much as Amy had said. But I questioned if it was just the looks and clothes that had made the change. Was that the secret to happiness in high school? Or was there something more?

I was bursting to tell Amy about my date with Josh, but I had to get through Pre-calculus and English before Amy and I met up in gym class for the final period. Being overweight and uncoordinated had made gym class feel like some sort of medieval torture, so it had always been my least favorite class. Now, for the first time in my life I was actually looking forward to gym.

By the time I got to the locker room to tell her, Amy had already heard. I wondered if Einstein had considered the rate of spreading gossip when declaring that nothing was faster than the speed of light.

“Tell me all about it,” Amy said as soon as she saw me. “I want details!”

I filled her in while we got changed. I was so excited that I almost managed to not be self-conscious while changing into my gym clothes.

“Wow,” Amy said when I finished. “You’ve had quite the day.” She paused and looked me up and down. “And, to add to your list of superhuman feats for the day, you make those school-issued gym clothes look good.”

Despite several attempts by well-meaning but controlling groups of parents, our school had managed to avoid being sucked into having a dress code. But for gym class we all had to wear black shorts and grey t-shirts provided by the school. I usually felt horribly exposed since the shorts always felt way too short and my legs were not what I would have called my finest features. White and flabby, I always felt like I was walking on two bratwursts with everyone staring.

I looked in the mirror, and despite what Amy had said, I was surprised by what I saw. I knew my legs were thinner, but I still couldn’t think of myself that way. The legs I saw in the mirror looked like legs I had seen on other girls – normal legs.

Mrs. Herst, the gym teacher, herded us all out of the locker room and onto the gym floor. I groaned when I saw the volleyball nets set up. I was not very coordinated and had absolutely no talent in sports. I was especially dismal at volleyball. I missed the ball more often than I hit it, and I invariably ended up on a team with ultra-competitive girls who by the end of the game would start shoving me out of the way rather than watch me flub another hit.

Today was no exception. Amy was sent to another court and three of the girls on my team were on the varsity volleyball team that went to state last year.

I stuck myself in the back corner, hoping to hide for a while, but Ginger Johnson was serving and immediately identified me as the weak link. My heart started pounding as she served the ball directly at me. To my surprise, the ball seemed to move more slowly than I remembered. I positioned myself under the ball and bumped it to the front row where Anna Tupper spiked it for a side out. She turned and gave me a high five. Definitely the first time anyone had ever congratulated me for my performance in an athletic event.

Ginger must have thought it was a fluke – I certainly did – because on the next volley she hit the ball straight toward me again. But once again, I was able to get under the ball and bump it up. She tried three more times, and each time I was able to easily bump the ball up. After that I was no longer the main target. What had once seemed so difficult and complex now came naturally. I decided it must be a side effect of my enhanced vision. Since I could see the ball more clearly, I had a better idea of where it was going.

When I rotated to the front row, I noticed an even bigger change. As Ginger jumped up to spike the ball at me, I leapt to a previously unimaginable height and blocked her hit. She looked over at me with a mixture of disbelief and anger in her eyes.

On the next volley, Anna set the ball perfectly and I jumped up and spiked it past Ginger for a point. Now, that certainly wasn’t because of better vision. There was more to this change than I had realized.

I pushed the worries about what the changes might mean out of my mind while I played. For the first time in my life I was having fun playing a sport. It was amazing how much more fun it was when I didn’t suck horribly at it.

By the time gym was over I was both exhausted and exhilarated. Amy and I changed into real clothes and headed back to our lockers. On our way out Anna gave me a high five and said “Good game, Montgomery. You should try out for the team this year.”

Amy looked at Anna and back at me, her face a mixture of disbelief and amazement. She had been playing on a different court and obviously hadn’t seen what had happened in my game. Given my past experiences in volleyball, her disbelief was more than understandable.

“Good game?” she said. “What happened?”

“It’s no big deal,” I said.
“I’ve gotten better at volleyball.”

“And?”

I tried not to make a big deal out of it, but I couldn’t stop the grin on my face. “And I may have spiked the ball at Ginger Johnson.”

“You didn’t!”

I shrugged and kept moving. As we walked through the halls the looks and whispers grew even more noticeable. Amy’s grin grew larger and larger as we continued down the hall. She was like a gossip sponge, pulling it all in and processing what my newfound status as most discussed girl in the school meant for me.

Despite Amy’s excitement, I was still uncomfortable with this much attention. I was ready to go home just to avoid the way people stared at me. Amy and I stopped briefly at our lockers and made a quick getaway to the student parking lot.

We were almost out to the car when I spied Josh approaching with Mason and Tyler. I took a deep breath, prepared for the worst. Clearly the school gossip had convinced him he’d made a mistake.

“Hey, Madison,” he said.

I scanned his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but I didn’t see any evidence of concern. In fact, he was giving me that smile that made my knees all wobbly.

I put on my quirky heroine face and smiled back. “Hey, Josh.”

At that point, his confident smile evaporated into a shy, bashful expression.

Mason whispered something to Taylor that caused him to laugh. I didn’t catch the words, but apparently Josh did because he reached over and punched Mason in the shoulder.

He turned back to me. “So, are we still on for Friday?”

I turned to Amy for help, but she was too busy studying Josh to notice. Why would he ask that? Was he trying to get out of the date? Was he embarrassed to be going out with me?

“Yeah, I think so,” I said, not sure what else to say. “If you still want to, that is.” In my panic, the quirky heroine had disappeared.

Josh cocked his head to the side and looked confused. Then he smiled again. “Of course. I’ll pick you up at 7:00.”

As the three of them walked away, Taylor muttered something that caused Mason to erupt in another a fit of laughter. Josh kicked Taylor in the rear. The three of them walked off laughing and punching each other.

Boys are weird. 

We got in the car and Amy started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“In one day you managed to wrap Josh completely around your little finger,” she said. “I don’t know how you did it.”

Other books

Ascension Day by Matthews, John
Carnal Gift by Pamela Clare
The Temporary by Rachel Cusk
Bloodline by Warren Murphy
Shifting by Rachel D'Aigle
The Teleporter. by Arthur-Brown, Louis
Black Widow by Lauren Runow
Reilly 09 - Presumption of Death by O'Shaughnessy, Perri
Dead Girl Dancing by Linda Joy Singleton