Crimson Death (Anita Blake, Vampire Hunter #25)(6)

Ms. Hurstenwild gestured to the back of the classroom. “You can take that seat. We’re going over some housekeeping things to kick off the term.”

I scanned the faces at first, then, overwhelmed, I settled for staring at the floor. It wasn’t that I was hugely shy or anything. I just … I mean, come on. No one relishes feeling like a zoo animal, right?

Luckily, I made it to my desk without anyone throwing popcorn at me, which was a great success as far as I was concerned. Ms. Hurstenwild started talking about hall passes and library access, and I probably should’ve been paying attention, but my gaze kept wandering around the class. There were thirty or so students. On the surface, they weren’t any different from the kids back home. Only your usual distribution of pretty to plain, self-assured to awkward, skinny jeans to boot cut to miniskirts. But while the class might not be any different from the ones back home, I could be. Different, that is. I was a blank slate now. Anything could happen from here on out. Any of these people might become my best friends or worst enemies by the end of the year. I was totally in charge of my destiny. Whatever move I made today might make or break the year.

But no pressure, right? As long as I didn’t get tangled in any more seat belts, and tamed my use of the English language, I should be okay.

“Should” being the key word.

Suddenly, I realized Ms. Hurstenwild had stopped speaking, and people were moving. I froze—was it first period already? There hadn’t been a bell? But before I could react, Juliette had plopped her butt on the front of my desk. She had two girls with her. One was tall and curvy, with thick eyelashes straight out of a Covergirl advertisement, and cool brown skin. She was decked out head to toe in brand-name workout gear, from her wool sweater to her three-quarter yoga pants. The other girl, in a slight contrast, wore a pale lavender, frilly dress, that shouldn’t have worked with her equally pale skin but somehow did, paired with a leather jacket and Converse. That, plus the heavy eyeliner and slumped posture, made her the spitting image of half of my friends back home. Unfortunately, she was the only one of the girls who looked less than impressed to see me.

“Ollie-oop, this is Niamh and Lara,” Juliette said, pointing to the L’Oreal model and the punk-looking chick respectively. Neev? People had weird names in North Carolina. “Guys, Ollie moved here from California. Apparently he could move back at any time, at the drop of a hat.”

Goddamnit, my face was flushing. All right. My turn to speak. Maybe I should take this opportunity to prove my firm grasp on my first language. “Hi. Yeah, we spent the summer here, and my parents figured hey, why bother going home, let’s hang out here all year.”

Niamh looked puzzled. “Really? That seems like an … unusual thing to do.”

He shoots, he misses. “Um … yeah, no, it was … it was a, uh … a joke … we didn’t really … um … my aunt’s sick, so we’re staying here for a while to help out.”

All three girls stared at me. I stared back at them. Then an enormous black hole opened up in the floor and I happily let it suck me into the depths of the earth.

Lara puffed out her cheeks. “That’s a downer.” Juliette not-so-subtly elbowed her, and Lara made a show of nursing her rib cage. “Jesus, Jule, the hell was that for?”

“So you spent the summer in town?” Juliette asked, raising her voice over Lara’s, clearly trying to smooth over the awkwardness.

“Not right here, no. We were at the lake. This is my first time in Collinswood since I was a little kid.”

“Oh cool,” Niamh jumped in. “I spent a week over there, too. We probably walked by each other a dozen times without even realizing. How funny.”

“Niamh likes to spend as much time there as she can,” Juliette said. “She’s completely convinced she’ll end up in a torrid summer romance one year.”

“Closest I got was Grandpa’s lawn-bowling buddy,” Niamh said, fiddling with her necklace, a simple rose-gold chain with a rose pendant dangling at the end. A rose-gold rose. “But he was more into me than I was into him, unfortunately. I don’t mind an older man, but I draw the line at sixty.”

I’d seen Niamh’s necklace before—on Juliette, I realized, looking between them. Yup, identical. On a hunch, I glanced at Lara. A rose glittered at the base of her throat, too, catching the fluorescent light.

Juliette tapped Niamh’s arm good-naturedly. “That’s what I keep telling you. If you want adventure, you’re gonna have to go a little farther than the lake, don’t you think? Scandalous summer romances aren’t a thing in North Carolina.”

I played my poker face. As far as I was concerned, I’d nailed it. That is, until Lara narrowed her eyes at me, leaned her elbows on my desk, and said, “Or not? Ollie?” I blinked. “Hmm?”

But it was too late to play innocent. Lara gave me an evil smile and pointed right at me. “I saw that look! What did you get up to over the break? I’m assuming she was younger than sixty.”

The flush from before would’ve been but a soft glow compared to the way I must look now. “Um … I, uh …”

Juliette jumped on board now. “He did, oh my God. Niamh, I stand corrected.”

Niamh pouted. “Some people get all the luck.”

A nervous laugh burst out of my throat like a shaken soda can fizzing over. “Isn’t it time for class?”