Watercolour Smile (19 page)

“Hey there, Duchess,” someone said, stepping into my path. “I hate to be the Grinch that ruined christmas and everything, but when I promised Tariq I wouldn’t tell Tesley about you sneaking in to watch the gymnastics club’s practise, I wasn’t planning on you parading through the weights room in your leotard. You’re distracting the team from their workout.”

I glanced up and did a rapid cataloguing of features: brown hair, slightly shaggy, dark brown eyes and a smile that wavered halfway to a frown. I didn’t recognise him.

I looked back to the ground and said, “Move.”

He seemed to hesitate, but something in my tone must have warned him off, because he stepped to the side.

“Seph!” Tariq spluttered, after I found my way to him.

“T-towel,” I mumbled, a second before one settled around my shoulders. I grabbed it and wrapped myself up tightly. “Thanks.”

I looked up then and Tariq shook his head. “Where’s your stuff?”

“Someone snuck into the locker-room and took it all.”

He frowned and reached over the weights bench he had been sitting on, snagging his gym bag. He pulled out a spare t-shirt and a baggy pair of workout pants and then handed them over, his eyes straying over my shoulder. I looked behind myself and realised that the whole team was watching our exchange, whispering to each other and peering around equipment to see us better.

“I’m sorry.” I turned quickly and ran back to the gymnasium.

The clothes swam on me, but Tariq was reasonably slim and the pants had an elastic waist, so they didn’t fall off, at least. I moved through the weights room without looking up again, but paused at the legs indicating that a guy was leaning up against the door that marked my escape route. I recognised his sneakers: it was brown-haired guy. I mentally calmed myself, and forced my eyes up.

“This won’t be a habit, right?” he asked.

“You getting in my way? I hope not.”

He sighed. “No need to be difficult.”

I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest to match his stance. “You’re right,” I said, despite the fact that my tone of voice hadn’t changed one iota. “Sorry. Who went into the gymnasium apart from me?”

“A bunch of girls from the cheerleading squad.” He ran his eyes over the baggy clothing I wore. “They stole your stuff, I’m guessing.”

Instead of confirming, I asked, “Who are you?”

His eyebrows lifted and he blinked once, slowly. He was surprised that I didn’t know.

“Ren Hudson,” he answered. “Everyone calls me Hawk. I’m captain of the team.”

My chest constricted tightly, making me flinch; I rubbed my knuckles over the spot to ease the sensation. Poison spoke about Aiden sometimes, and I knew that he used to be the captain of the football team.

“Well,” I dug my hands into the pockets of Tariq’s sweats, mostly so that I’d be able to hold them up a little better, “I won’t come here anymore, if that’s what you want.”

“No, it’s fine. Keep a change of clothes with your brother. When Amber and her crew set their sights on someone, they usually don’t stop until…” He shook his head and turned, opening the door for me. “Just be careful.”

I nodded and slipped past him. “Can you tell Tariq I’ve gone home? I’ll catch a ride with someone.”

“Sure.” He watched as I jogged across the lawn, the grass freezing beneath my bare feet.

I pushed through the entrance doors to the school and waved at the janitor as I raced past.

He shouted after me, “Slow down, Adair!”

I reached Quillan’s office and knocked, praying that he would still be there. The door opened and I found myself face-to-face with the green-eyed ex-girlfriend, Sam. I felt like an idiot, dressed in oversized sweats and Tariq’s shirt, while she was wrapped into a sophisticated pencil skirt and feminine blazer combination.

“Do you need something?” she asked politely. She didn’t seem to recognise me.

Why would she
?

“Is… is Mr. Quillan there?”

“No.” She folded her arms. “I thought he would be…” she trailed off, probably waiting for me to answer her earlier question.

“No.” I quickly shook my head, backing away. “I don’t need anything. I was just… asking about some homework.”

She opened her mouth to speak but I turned on my heel and started running again.

I had a sick feeling churning in the pit of my stomach and tears pricking at the backs of my eyes. I wished that Noah and Cabe hadn’t picked this day to go on assignment, I wished that Amber and her squad would have confronted me instead of stealing my stuff, or better yet—I wished that they had just left me the hell alone.

“Hey!” Janitor-guy called out as I raced past again. His tone was a little different this time, so I slowed, scrubbing at the tears that ran down my cheeks. “I found this in the garbage,” he said, holding up my book bag. “Had some girl clothes in it so I thought…”

My mouth fell open and I had the urge to hug him, but he was sweaty and there was a stain on the front of his overalls, so I simply took the book bag and sniffled through my gratitude. “Thank you, t-thank you so much.”

I tightened my fingers around the bag and pushed through the doors to the car park. I sat on the stairs and dug around for my phone. There were messages from Silas and Quillan, both asking if I was okay. I couldn’t call Silas, because I wasn’t sure how he would react, and I didn’t want to call Quillan so soon after seeing Sam, because I wasn’t sure what to say about that either. I sent them a quick message to say that I was fine, and then I dialled Cabe.

“Hey, Seph,” he answered on the third ring, his voice a whisper.

“No
Adair-residence
introduction?”

“You get to bypass my answering machine because you’re special. What’s up? You sound upset.”

“Are you still busy?”

“Yeah.” His voice got even quieter and there was a scuffling sound, a grunt, and then he was back. “Should be done in half an hour. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll call Miro.”

“If you’re calling Miro instead of Silas then someone did something to you. You always call Silas when you need something. Beats me
why
, but…” His voice had risen in frustration, and he took a moment to pull himself together, forcing his voice back into a whisper. “Where are you? Are you safe?”

“Yes I’m fine, I’m at school. I’ll call Miro, okay?”

“Seph…”

“Really, Lucifer, it’s nothing. Sorry, I just wanted to see if you were done. I’ll see you soon, okay?” I hung up before he could answer and shoved the phone into my bag, walking back to the Sports Centre.

I picked a tree that topped a small incline—looking down over the front entrance to the Sports Centre—and curled against the base of it, pulling a sketchpad out of my bag. I’d wait out Tariq’s weights session and ride home with him. Quillan’s Porsche wasn’t in the car park anymore, which meant that he and Tabby had left.
I really should just call him
, I thought, but I knew that I would end up blurting that Sam was waiting for him in his office, and then he’d tell me why, and I wasn’t sure I really wanted to know why.

I didn’t feel for Quillan in that way, and there was a very substantial part of me that actually
hoped
for him; hoped that he would find love with someone else. What we had was gentle, supportive. It was perhaps closer than friendship, but that was only because of the bond, and I might not know what
proper
love was supposed to feel like, but I knew that my feelings for each of the guys were vastly different. I was fond of Quillan; he was like my favourite coat, something soothing and familiar to ward of the coldness of the world. If I had only been bonded to Quillan, I might have mistaken that feeling for love, but I had the experience of three more coats to compare it to—
Christ, what the hell am I talking about?
 

Weston was clued onto us, and Noah and Cabe had both already started dating people in public, so it wasn’t very far-fetched that Quillan would start dating someone too, even if it was just for show. Besides… Samantha seemed nice. Genuine. I tried telling that to the bubble of bond-induced jealousy that was threatening to make me angry, and then I briefly acknowledged the other thought that had been stirring in the back of my mind.

If Quillan was dating someone… how long would it be before Silas called up Hunter?

“Focus, Seraph,” I muttered aloud, staring at the blank page.

I let my anxiety pour onto the page, my lead pencil sketching the back of a person’s head, leading down to shoulders that were slightly broader than Cabe’s. The tip of my pencil narrowed to a waist, shading over the creases of a tailor-fitted shirt and designer jeans. I sketched a booth beside him and my pencil scratched over a stack of discarded glasses, some of them upended and spilling droplets of sticky smudges onto the table. The figure was standing with his arm propped on the back of the booth, his head tilted to the side and one foot crossed over the other, it was a stance achingly familiar to Noah. I drew another couple of figures into the booth, their heads bent together, a tattooed hand reaching up to tangle fingers into a mess of curls; even with their faces half-cast in shadow, I still recognised Danny. My pencil moved back to Noah and I began to draw things around him: a girl brushing past in a tiny sequinned dress, her head thrown back in a laugh, a flashing light in the background, and an arm reaching up over Noah’s shoulder. I sketched the fingers of a girl into his hair, and then my pencil followed the embrace of her other arm around his middle. Her other hand was fisted in his shirt: the cause of the wrinkles that I had drawn before. Suddenly, the tilt to Noah’s head made sense. They were kissing.

I shoved the sketchpad away like it had burnt me, and then grappled for my phone, my fingers hovering uncertainly over Noah’s contact. What could I possibly say to him? If I told him that I had drawn him kissing somebody, he wouldn’t even believe that it was a forecasting. I hadn’t been able to wean any other details from the sketch other than how the scene appeared, which meant that there where any number of explanations for what appeared to be going on. Maybe the girl surprised him with it, and he was just about to push her away.

When is your next date?
I sent him the message, my teeth anchoring into the fleshy part of my lower lip.

Saturday
, he replied.

I shoved the phone into my bag as the Sports Centre doors swung open, and stood, making my way over to the people spilling out. I rode home with Tariq and told Silas and Quillan that I wasn’t feeling well. I showered, changed, and crawled into bed, feeling bad for leaving Tariq with Silas’s stormy expression. They had let me leave the room, but when Tariq moved to follow, Quillan had caught my brother’s shoulder and shaken his head. Noah and Cabe fell down either side of me at some point in the night, and I woke up curled between them. They didn’t often do that, unless I was straining.

I refused to speak about the leotard incident, but I knew that Tariq had told them, because Noah grabbed a change of clothes for me and shoved them into his bag before we left for school. In the car, I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. There was one from Poison, and another from the unsaved number that Mike had texted me from. I checked Poison’s first.

I heard what the Skank Squad did. Revenge plan?

I almost smiled as I tapped out a reply.
I’ll meet you at your locker before class this morning. We’re coming in early so that Noah and Cabe can talk to the coach. They’re re-joining the team now that Tariq has.

Their tyranny extends to your brother as well?

The smile finally formed on my face.
Ha ha. I guess. See you soon.

I’m leaving now
.

I exited her message screen and tapped on the message from Mike.

Look don’t sick the Adairs on me or anything, but I was kind of hoping you could talk to Poison for me. She hasn’t spoken to me since I brought Danny to the bowling alley. I didn’t realise it was that big of a deal, I’m really sorry.

I read and then re-read the message, wondering what I was supposed to do.

“You look nervous.” Noah glanced at me from the driver’s seat, his eyes flicking to my phone. “Who are you texting?”

“Mike.”

“Who’s Mike?” Cabe’s head appeared between the two front seats, and Clarin’s face popped up over my shoulder, reading the message in my hands.

“Ah,” Clarin said. “The Mike that Poison went on a date with. Poison’s been ignoring him because he let Danny set the whole thing up to get Seph alone.”

“
What
?” Cabe and Noah both asked at the same time, their voices raised in a tone of voice that was bordering on a shout, but leaving a little room for the possibility of misunderstandings.

I turned and glared at Clarin, who fell back into his seat, shaking his head. Tariq was stuck between Cabe and Clarin, looking uncomfortable.

“It wasn’t entirely like that,” I said. “Mike really was interested in dating Poison.”

“So he wants you to talk to Poison?” Noah asked.

“Yeah, I’m going to meet her before class.” I typed out a quick reply to Mike.

I’ll talk to her
.

When we got to school I told Noah I’d meet him in Calculus and ran off.

“Hey!” I landed beside Poison’s locker and she smacked the door closed, leaning against it to appraise my sky-blue skirt and white collared shirt.

“Hey right back, munchkin. You’re looking mighty determined this morning. Are you going to say the f-word again?”

“No.” I grimaced at the memory; I had sworn brutally after closing a drawer on one of my fingers the week before, and Poison and Clarin wouldn’t let me forget it. I pulled out my sketchbook, flipping to the right page and shoving it beneath her face. “I drew this yesterday. It’s Noah’s date on Saturday.”

Her mouth pinched down into a frown. “That’s ridiculous. He’d never do that. I know you guys don’t have a romantic relationship or anything, but he knows what that would do to you.” She narrowed her eyes on my face. “It
would
do something to you, wouldn’t it?”