I don’t turn to look at him, even if he’s only a chair behind me. He’s not worth the wasted energy.
“Can we pick any serial killer?”
“Is that not what I just explained?” Our teacher drones.
“So, I can write a piece on Vampire over here?” he asks, ignoring the fact that the teacher is giving him a death glare.
“Mr. DeLeon, don’t waste my time on—”
“We all know she killed her brother and probably every animal in the forest. Might as well just prove it now.”
I fist my palms so tightly that my gel nails break skin. That doesn’t stop me from digging more and more as my skin prickles with embarrassment.
“Mr. DeLeon!” Bautista yells, his face reddening, the vein on his forehead making an appearance as well.
“I’m just saying—as someone who has seen what she can do, I think she’d be a great case study.” His voice is one of consideration.
The fact that he brought up my brother so callously has me wanting to prove a theory. I’ll be a murderer if that’s what he wants. Bringing up Cass when we both know he was involved in the cover-up makes me sick.
Instead of sticking around to let him beat on me more, I raise from my desk, collect my shit, and race out of there.
Mr. Bautista calls after me, but I don’t stop, not even after I leave the room.
Lennox can bully me all he wants, but he better learn to leave Cass out of it. I told myself I would keep my distance, and I even left Government to avoid them all. Even if leaving Ten practically sawed out my organs, it had to be done. They refused to admit their involvement, and I’m not playing their little game anymore.
“Colt!”
I don’t stop or turn to see who it is. The stranger’s voice, whoever it is, sends a familiar thrill through me. There aren’t many guys who do that. Actually, I can count on one hand how many have the capability, but whoever this is, he isn’t one of them.
“Please stop running!” The voice is insistent, almost desperate in a way.
“Not running. Just not stopping,” I grunt in reply, trying to not be rude as I make my way out of the school and toward Ivory Tower.
A hand clamps onto my shoulder, making me squeak. I turn toward him, ready to berate him, but my heart pounds as my gaze connects with the bluest eyes I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing. They’re so dark, almost black, but as the light shines on them, I can see they’re a deep navy. My mouth hangs open as I try to form words. I’m not one for geeking out on a guy. I’ve made that mistake before, but this guy... his eyes... omigod.
His hand touches my chin poignantly, forcing it closed. “Like what you see?” he teases, his eyes hone in on my lips and I subconsciously lick them.
He’s so damn handsome. His hair, like his eyes, is dark, but the lights overhead show the reddish-brown tones. He’s sporting the regular uniform without the blazer. The arms are cuffed at the elbow, and his tattoos shock me.
He has to be a student. He appears young. Like me, his arms are swathed in detailed black ink. It’s intense, like his penetrating gaze.
“H-How do you know my name?” I ask, hating that a bad feeling bubbles in my stomach. Not snakes, no. Spiders. Venomous, disgusting, and squirmy in the worst way. I’ve never seen this kid before, and yet he already knows me?
Red flag, Colt. Red fucking flag.
“I-I...” he stumbles. I’m not sure if it’s because he’s a terrible liar being caught, or such a good actor that he’s able to seem stuttery. “We have three classes together. I’ve watched you.”
That’s not creepy, admitting to watching someone.
Joe Goldberg, is that you?
He runs a hand through that dark hair of his, making me lose focus once more. Before Cass died, I was one-thousand percent boy crazy. It’s what got me into trouble last year with not one but four guys.
“Oh, well. Hi,” I respond lamely. I’m not about to jump this dude’s bones over him noticing me. It’s hard not to notice me. I have toxic sludge green hair and black raccoon eyes.
“I’m Jordan Winthrop, but everyone calls me Walker.”
“I’m—”
“I know,” he interrupts with a boyish smile, revealing a dimple. “I just wanted to see if you were okay. Lux isn’t exactly nice.”
That icky feeling comes back at Lux’s name.
“How do you know?” The question comes out without pause. I don’t trust anyone, least of all someone who knows Lux.
“I’m the new enforcer for Student Govern—”
“I’ve gotta go,” I rasp.
He was listed on the bulletin board earlier today. Now I have a face to connect with the name I know to avoid. Good. I will not get involved with them. Never again.
He licks his bottom lip, revealing a tongue piercing that has a shiver running through me.
Hurrying, I turn away and head for my room.
When I finally get there, I notice a note on my board. All doors have one. It’s for messages, notes, or even numbers from losers who want in your pants. My eyes connect with several words that have my blood running cold.
Go home. No need to lose the last Hudson child.
Who wrote it?
Why did they?
Bet it was one of those assholes in Student Government.
The words stare back at me as I gnaw on my lip relentlessly. Instead of erasing it, I take a picture with my cell and go inside my dorm.
How the hell did I think this year would be easy?
Five
As soon as I enter my room, I notice him immediately.
It’s been four months since I truly spoke to him last. He took something from me, something I can never get back. Not that I would want it back anyway. When he didn’t show up to Cassidy’s funeral, it solidified our separation, making it permanent.
“Ten,” I whisper, unable to believe my eyes. How did he get in here?
His metal eyes pierce me like the silver they reflect. His facial expression isn’t readable. It’s almost... nothing. Not here nor there. It just is.
“Kid,” he responds, his gravelly voice hitting me where it hurts most, between the ribs, a little to the left, right where it beats hardest.
To many, I’m just Cassidy’s kid sister, even with less than a year separating our age. Kid. That’s what he calls me, even when we grew up together. It’s not blasé either. It’s how I know he still cares. But I don’t want him to care. I want him to hate me as I’ve forced myself to hate him. He was there that night. With them. He’s one of them.
"This is Tennison," Cassidy explains.
This boy he's showing me lives nearby. I've seen them play a lot, but I'm not allowed to hang out with them. His friend Tennison’s hair is a brown color, like wet dirt, muddy and dark, but it’s longer, and messy, like boys always are.
"I'm Colton." I offer my hand. Since I turned ten, I’ve been sneaking around more, playing football with boys.
Tennison stares at me, his shiny eyes meeting mine. They're so pretty, like the spoons Moms has just cleaned or even the shiny earrings she wears when they go to fancy dinners. They're pretty, and I can't stop staring.
"Nice to meet you, Kid."