Gods & Monsters Page 3

  No. Nothing at all.

  He looks lonely, sitting there with his jaw all tight, as people stare at him, and all I want to do is go sit by him.

  “You…” Sky points her finger, which is vibrating with her anger.

  Her target is a boy named Duke. Duke Knight. He’s the reason Sky hates the most influential family of the town, with generations of priests and cops.

  Duke and Sky are arch-enemies. They have been this way ever since they were born. In fact, the story goes that they were born on the same day and at the same hospital. When the nurse went to check on Duke a couple of days later, she found him staring at the baby to his right. And whaddya know? That baby was Sky and she was glaring at him. God only knows what a two-day-old Duke must have done to piss off my best friend. But he certainly did something and they’ve been enemies ever since.

  I love that story. I think it’s cute. But I’ll never say this to Sky. Besides, I’m on her side and if she wants to kill the prince of this town, son of a cop and nephew of a priest, then I’m with her.

  Duke smirks as he leans against the locker, facing her. “Me?”

  He’s always so chill and relaxed while my best friend is shooting fire. Any other boy would’ve melted by now but not Duke. He’s arrogant and confident, and I think he secretly loves riling Sky up. He’s a jerk, basically. But I always tell Sky not to indulge him. Be the bigger person.

  “Fuck being the bigger person,” she said once while we were in class, and Mr. Hanson, our English teacher, had to shush us.

  Yeah, I’m not getting into this. But I’ll stand by her both emotionally and physically. I’m shoving books in my school locker since we’re done for the day, and keeping an eye on both of them.

  “You did it on purpose. You pushed me and you made me spill my juice, and now it’s all over my clothes, you fucking jerk.”

  Sky’s back is to me as she faces off with Duke. She’s the tallest girl in school but Duke’s even taller than her. He’s probably the tallest guy and he’s also the most popular student in school. People love him and his charming smile and his gelled-up, spiky dark hair and his supposedly kind denim eyes.

  There’s nothing kind about him; I know that. He’s the bane of my friend’s existence.

  Duke lifts his chin up and chuckles. “Language, Skylar. We don’t want teachers to overhear or you’ll spend your first week back at school in detention.”

  He’s right. Sky has a bit of a swearing problem. Everyone knows about her dirty mouth and she’s been given detention a million times because of it.

  She gasps. “As if you don’t swear.”

  He shakes his head, watching her with amusement, completely relaxed. “Of course not.”

  Sky’s fists are clenched at her sides. “Liar.”

  He’s grinning now, the charming grin everyone falls for, as he whispers loud enough for us both to hear, “Psycho.”

  Sky is sputtering and no matter how mad she gets at me later, I decide to intervene. “Duke, enough, okay? You’ve had your fun.”

  He throws me an innocent look, raising his palms up. “I didn’t even do anything. Your friend attacked me.”

  Students milling about in the corridor smirk as they go about their business. Arguments between Duke and Sky aren’t that uncommon. No one pays them any attention, but if you asked them, they’d say it was Sky. She started it. Because she’s always the one to start trouble. Duke is the good guy, a valedictorian in the making.

  Sky takes a step forward but I wrap my hand around her arm, stopping her. “We all know who did what, okay? You’re not the prince people think you are. So stop harassing her and getting her in trouble.”

  His lips curl into a cold smile as he stares at furious Sky, still talking to me though. “Your friend already is trouble. I’m just helping humanity by bringing out the fucking best in her.”

  Sky tenses at his deliberate use of the f-word.

  I shake my head and tug Sky away from him. “We’re leaving.”

  “So soon?” Duke folds his arms across his chest. “Who’s gonna clean up this mess? Should we call your mom?”

  He says this loudly, referring to the fact that Mrs. Davis, Sky’s mom, is a maid. She cleans for many families, including the Knights.

  Ah, and this just keeps getting better and better. A teacher hears Duke and approaches us. Even though I protest and insist that it was Duke’s fault, he orders Sky to mop up the mess.

  Great, and everything was going so well the first day back at school.

  I help her clean up while we plot ways to bring about Duke’s downfall. So we’re the last ones to leave the school building. We part ways at the tall gates where the bus is still waiting. Thank God. Sky lives in town so she walks to school every day, but since I live on the outskirts, I have to take the bus.

  When I get on board, I’m immediately hit by the quiet and hissed whispers. Usually, there are balls of crushed paper flying everywhere. Someone is calling someone a stupid idiot or someone’s laughing like they’re about to die. But none of this is happening today. People are exchanging furtive glances with each other, while looking at something over their shoulders.

  I follow their eyes and find the source.

  It’s Abel.

  He’s sitting in the back, where I usually sit and write in my journal.

  It’s a bit of a shock at first but then, I realize of course. Of course, he’ll be here. Our schools are directly opposite to each other. I go to Prophetstown middle school and he goes to the high school. We are only separated by a winding mud path but everything else is the same. We even share the same playing field. I was running late this morning, so my dad dropped me off and I completely missed Abel on the bus.

  Over the past month, I’ve seen him in town and around his house. I even saw him in the woods once when I was climbing down from my treehouse. It was sort of awkward, actually. I froze, staring at him like an idiot. I told myself to look away but, no. I kept staring at him and staring at him, until his lips twitched, and one side of his mouth quirked up in a smile, more like a smirk. Then I spun around and ran. I don’t know why I did that but something happens to me when he’s around. I become awkward and shy, and my lips part because I start breathing through my mouth. It’s not pretty.

  What Sky said to me at church weeks ago is still true. I can’t even talk to him, let alone be friends with him. I shouldn’t want to be. My mom would kill us both.

  Even so, I want to ask him a million things whenever I see him. Like, why does he always carry a camera? Or if black is his favorite color, because he doesn’t wear anything else. Or why does he stare at me and why can’t I look away from him? There has to be an explanation for that.

  I take in a deep breath and walk down the aisle. It’s happening again. I can’t look away, no matter how much I try to. His head is bent over something I can’t see, so he hasn’t noticed me. But I know, I know that he will. It’s just one of those things. Natural and pre-programmed.

  I’m so focused on him and this weird phenomenon that happens whenever we’re around each other, that I don’t see someone grabbing my arm until I’m stopped. I turn to see the arm-grabber and it’s Jessica Roberts, one of my classmates.

  Jessica and I have always gotten along super well. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But I just…” She glances left, then right. “Would you like to sit here? With us?”

  I frown at her. “Oh. Um, well, that’s so sweet but I think I’ll stick with my old seat.”

  “Are you sure?” She looks nervous, chewing on her lip. “I mean, we do have seats up front.”

  “But…” I sort of laugh, not because it’s funny, but because her offer is weird. I never sit up front. But before I can think too much about it, the side of my face prickles. My gaze leaves her and swings to the boy sitting in the back.

  Abel’s watching me with his maple syrupy eyes. I feel relieved that he sensed my presence, that the phenomenon is real. I’m not making it up. Though the question is, w
hy the heck is it happening?

  “Evie.” Jessica draws my attention back to her. “You’re welcome to sit with us. In fact, I think we can use this time to maybe discuss…” She glances over at Abel before looking back at me. “What Mrs. Johnson taught us. Frankly, it confused me so I’d love your help.”

  Now I see what’s going on. Everyone knows that the back of the bus is my territory. I sit in a corner and no one bothers me. But Abel is sitting there now and most of the people are afraid of him, like Jessica and her gang.

  God, when will people stop being afraid of him?

  Personally, I think some of them are being mean and dragging this too far. He’s not bad. He’s shown no signs of being anything but nice. Like, the other day, he held the church’s door open for Mrs. Weatherby, but that witch refused to even enter. She turned up her nose and didn’t budge from her spot until Abel’s jaw got really tight like it did the first day when he was with Mr. Adams, and he left. I tried to catch his eye that day but he wouldn’t look at me. Though I knew that he was aware of me. He’s always aware.

  He’s not a monster, I want to scream. Instead, I say, “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

  Jessica opens her mouth to say something but I raise my hand and stop her. “I said I’ll be fine. You don’t have to worry about me.”

  With that, I resume walking to the back. The bones of Abel’s face are so prominent right now, so high and cut. The brown of his eyes seems to be getting darker the closer I get. I come to stand before him, the closest I’ve been to him ever, and he swallows.

  Now that I’m here and every single person on the bus is staring at me, I don’t know what to do. I know what I’d like to do. I’d like to sit by him and say hi. I’d like to smile at him and tell him that I’m sorry for all the crap people have been giving him.

  But before I can say anything, the bus lurches and pulls out, and I stumble forward, gasping. Then I feel a strong grip on my shoulders – a warm grip – steadying me, putting me upright. But more than that I smell tangy apples.

  Abel Adams smells of apples.

  He’s so close to me that I can count his eyelashes, which are darker than his hair and thick, probably like a jungle. It will take time but I’m sure I can count them.

  Abel Adams is also touching me. In broad daylight, in front of all these people, with sun shining down on his golden hair.

  Oh my God.

  This is the exact thing that shouldn’t be happening. I shouldn’t be this close to him and I shouldn’t be counting his eyelashes or thinking about his brown eyes.

  “Thank you,” I whisper for saving me from the fall.

  He pushes me away until I’m standing on my own. “Don’t mention it.”

  Like an idiot I never wondered about his voice. I mean, I’ve seen him talk to Mr. B and a couple other people at the stores in town, but I never heard it before now. His voice isn’t like the voice of any boy I know. It’s not boyish or anything, but also, it’s not grown up. I’d say maybe it’s on the verge of being grown up.

  Abel has turned away, and now he’s looking out the window. I notice a drawing pad on his lap, which is snapped shut with a pencil peeking over the edge. Does he draw and like photography? Another question added to the list of questions I’ll never get to ask him.

  “You gonna sit?” he asks, looking at the passing scenery before glancing at me. “Or you gonna stare at me the whole way back?”

  He raises his eyebrows and they hit the messy strands of his hair. I’m familiar with that look. That’s the look Sky always has when she’s trying to get me to do something.

  There’s a full-blown smirk on his lips and his eyebrows haven’t come down. Oh, and he’s blocking the seat next to him with his long, stretched-out legs. He’s daring me to sit in the front.

  I put my hand on my hip and shoot him an arrogant look — for about two seconds before the bus lurches again and I stumble. Again. He presses his lips together, no doubt trying not to laugh at me. I don’t think I like him very much right now.

  “Well, if you must know, I’m going to sit.” My voice, in comparison to his, is squeaky and high and so childish. I hate my voice for being so stupid and I hate his voice for being so awesome. There’s no justice in the world.

  I take my backpack off and raise my own eyebrows, asking him to make space for me, which he does with twitching lips. I plop down on the seat and shove the backpack between my legs.

  Some people are still watching me, so I narrow my eyes at them. Sniffing, I slide up the seat and sit back. I’m not going to say a single word. Nope. My lips are sealed. I swing my legs. The toes of my shoes graze the floor. I look at the white metal ceiling.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” I tell him.

  Darn it. I gave in.

  His clothes rustle against the leather seat and I feel him turning toward me. “Yeah? Could’ve fooled me.”

  I glance at him from the corner of my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  He shrugs like he doesn’t care one way or another and turns toward the window, keeping his silence.

  I fully face him then. “No, tell me. Why would you think I’m afraid of you?”

  Scoffing, he gives me his full attention again. “Look, I don’t care either way, all right? I don’t care that you can barely look at me or that you run away when I’m around. Doesn’t matter to me. Now, if you’ll leave me the fuck alone, I’ll be grateful.”

  I gasp. It’s not as if I haven’t heard the f-word before. When you’re best friends with Sky, you hear it all. But Abel says it like he’s been saying it since the day he came into this world, like fuck was his very first word. It sounds strong, confident and practiced from his mouth.

  “Hey.” I poke my finger in his bicep; his skin is warm but I don’t want to think about it right now. “I don’t run away when you’re around.” That’s not exactly true but he doesn’t need to know that.

  He scoffs again.

  “No, seriously. I’m not afraid of anything. Least of all you,” I insist, rolling my eyes.

  Abel leans against the window, sprawling in the seat and crossing his arms across his chest. He’s wearing a black t-shirt again. I wish I could tell him to wear another color. Black is so… dull.

  “Really? You’re not afraid of anything.”

  “No.”

  “Right.” He nods but he doesn’t believe me; it’s in his tone. “What if I told you that I bite?”

  “What?” I laugh.

  “Yeah. They call me a monster, right? What if I told you I’m exactly what they call me and on top of that, I’ve got sharp teeth. What then? Are you gonna have nightmares tonight?”

  I stare at him for exactly five seconds. Yeah, I count them. Then I bend down and fish out my half-eaten stick of Toblerone, and wave it in the air like a weapon. “Then, I’d tell you that you’re not gonna bite me.”

  He stares at the chocolate with amusement. “How’d you figure that?”

  “Because I’m not food. And if you really wanted to bite something, I’d give you this. My chocolate.”

  He chuckles and I swallow. His chuckle sounds like his voice. Not the sound I’ve ever heard from a boy, and not from a grown-up, either.

  He’s staring at me like he always does. “Then I’d tell you that I don’t like chocolate.”

  My hand freezes in the air and my mouth pops open. “You don’t like chocolate?”

  “Nope.”

  “No way.” I grimace, my hand falling down to my lap with a thwack. “Oh my God.” I was not prepared for that. I wasn’t prepared for the monster to say that he doesn’t like chocolate. Except, Abel’s not a monster and I wasn’t really going to give him my chocolate.

  A short laugh bursts out of him as he stares at me. “Why do I get the feeling that you’re more concerned about my lack of chocolate love than the fact that I might seriously be dangerous?”

  “Oh, please.” I wave my hand. “You’re not dangerous, but what kind of a person doesn’t like choco
late?”

  “The kind who likes…” He shrugs. “I don’t know… fruit?”

  “You like fruit?” I screech, then glance around to find Jessica and the gang watching our exchange. But as soon as I glare at them, they all turn away.

  “This is getting worse by the minute, isn’t it?”

  “Duh. How can you like fruit and not chocolate?” I shake my head, frowning. “I can’t even understand that. That’s not normal.”

  Chuckling, he shrugs. “Maybe nothing about me is normal, Pixie.”

  Pixie? Did he just get my name wrong?

  “My name’s not Pixie.” I raise my eyebrows at him, feeling oddly disappointed and irritated. “It’s Evie.”

  “Evangeline Elizabeth Hart. I know.”

  Oh God.

  He shouldn’t have said my name in that awesome voice of his. Now, that’s all I’m hearing. My complete name in his almost-grown-up voice, making me feel like I am a grown-up. Like I could feel things — big things that only older people are supposed to feel.

  “Th-then why’d you call me Pixie?”

  “Because that’s my name for you.”

  “You can’t give me names. We don’t even know each other.”

  Throwing me a lopsided smile, he licks his lower lip and leans closer to me. The scent of warm apples tingles my nose and I’m frozen like a statue. “Maybe if you stay a little longer when I’m around instead of running away, we can get to know each other.”

  I blink. And then I blink again. I realize I want to say yes to getting to know him so strongly that I can’t say anything at all. I’m speechless. Voiceless, dumbstruck, tongue-tied and mute. On top of that, I feel like the sun is baking me even though I’m sitting inside the bus.

  Chuckling, he rubs the back of his neck, sliding back and sitting propped against the window. I move too. I tear open the silver wrapper of my Toblerone and pop an almost soggy and melted piece in my mouth. As I chew, I glance at Abel to find him staring at me.

  I gulp the half-chewed chocolate in. “You stare at me a lot.”

  He’s silent for a few seconds before whispering, “Do you want me to stop?”