Threads That Bind (Havoc Chronicles Series Book 1) (9 page)

I slumped, suddenly drained, as if I had just sprinted a marathon.

What had happened? For a moment I had felt... drawn to him somehow. But watching him now, he didn’t appear to have felt the same. In fact, he completely ignored me and continued to look around the classroom.

After a moment he walked to Mr. Shumway’s desk and held out a piece of paper. “My name’s Rhys Owen. I’m a new student.”

His voice had an odd sort of lilt. It sounded as if he had just the slightest trace of an accent, but I couldn’t place it.

Mr. Shumway glanced at the paper and directed Rhys to an empty desk two rows up and three rows left of mine. Rhys sat down and pulled a notebook out of his backpack.

I watched him fascinated, wondering if this was fate or simply an impossibly convenient coincidence of the deus ex machina variety. Sitting mere feet away from me was the possible answer to all my questions. If anyone could explain what was happening to me and how I could control it, it would be him.

But my fantasy of learning how to control my powers was stopped short as reality came crashing back. What did I know about this guy aside from the fact that he had the same sort of powers I did? Could I trust him? Was he a good guy? For all I knew he was some sort of homicidal super-villain.

I missed most of the class, lost in thought as I contemplated Rhys’ arrival and thought through what felt like every possible permutation of next steps. In the back of my mind I was vaguely aware of Mr. Shumway talking about velocity and angles, but I was not prepared when he startled me out of my thoughts by asking me to solve the problem he had written up on the chalkboard.

Once again, my senses sharpened – did it have something to do with being startled? – and I took in the problem on the chalkboard, immediately knowing the answer without having to think about it.

“Thirty two meters per second,” I said. I knew it was the right answer, but I had no idea
how
I knew it was right. It was a new type of problem that Mr. Shumway had just introduced today, and we both knew he had called on me because I hadn’t been paying attention.

But somehow, I was able take in the problem, figure out the process for solving it, do the calculations, and come up with the correct answer without any conscious effort. It was like looking at a page of text and instantly understanding everything written there without reading the individual words.

 Mr. Shumway raised his eyebrows. “Very impressive, Madison. Clearly you were paying attention. Now let me walk all of you through this and show you how she got that answer.”

As Mr. Shumway began working through the problem and my clarity faded, I noticed Rhys turning his head to look at me. The expression on his face wasn’t one I would have expected: confusion.

When he noticed me looking back at him, Rhys turned away and began scanning the other kids in the class one by one. No, that wasn’t quite right. He looked at each of the boys for several minutes, but he completely skipped over the girls.

That was strange.

When class ended, Rhys took one last glance back at me and walked out the door. By the time I left the classroom, he was lost in the crowded hallway.

I made it through history and study hall in a bit of a daze. At lunch I sat in what was quickly becoming my own private table in the corner. I tried not to look at Josh when he came in, but despite my best intentions, my eyes found excuses to watch him completely independent of my control. I was just glad that Ginger wasn’t in this lunch period. I didn’t think I could handle having to watch the two of them together.

I ate slowly, trying to imagine nefarious ways to keep Josh and Ginger apart. Unfortunately my ideas tended more to the desperate and pathetic rather than clever and conniving. I needed Amy for anything truly devious.

 I had given up scheming and was trying to find a way to keep from watching Josh when Rhys entered the cafeteria. He was probably the one thing that could take my attention from Josh for more than a few eye blinks.

Except for the other boy who followed him in.

The blond boy from the woods walked in right behind Rhys, a mischievous grin on his face. The two boys couldn’t be more different. Whereas Rhys looked straight ahead and didn’t seem to notice the people in the cafeteria watching them, the blond boy looked around soaking up the attention.  

Rhys headed straight for an empty table and sat down, several steps ahead of the blond boy who had slowed down and looked at the other tables as he passed. He clearly had been hoping Rhys would sit with some of the others rather than choosing an empty table. After a moment he shrugged and sat down with Rhys.

 I shifted positions at my table – one of the plusses of eating by yourself – to get a better view of the boys. They sat directly across from each other, neither of them talking. Rhys was concentrating on his food. The blond boy ate at a more leisurely pace while looking around the cafeteria. Like Rhys had in Physics, the blond boy appeared to be looking
for
something.

Or someone.

I couldn’t help wondering who they were and why they were here. I could see from the reaction of the other students in the cafeteria – Megan Richardson couldn’t keep her eyes off of Rhys and Selma Torres was definitely eyeing the blond boy - that I wasn’t the only one who wondered this, but I was pretty sure my interests were different from theirs. Sure they were both incredibly good looking, but what I wanted from them had nothing to do with their looks.

Lunch ended and I made it through Pre-calculus without event. In English I found Rhys was in my class. Once again he paid little attention to the teacher and spent the entire period studying each of the boys in turn.

Well, it looked like Megan was going to be rather disappointed since it appeared that Rhys didn’t have much of an interest in girls. 

After English I headed to the opposite side of the school for Gym class. Amy was already changing when I got there.

“Did you see the new guys?” she asked.

“Yeah, Rhys is in two of my classes,” I said. “I don’t know the blonde guy’s name, but he and Rhys are both in my lunch.”

Amy paused and looked at me with her eyebrow raised in mock surprise. “I’m impressed, Madison,” she said. “Usually you’re oblivious to the social workings of good ol’ Woodbridge High.”

I started changing. “Noticing two boys doesn’t mean I’ve lost my obliviousness,” I said. “It’s hard not to notice new people here.”

“Point taken,” said Amy with mock severity. “I will not question your cluelessness again.”

I waited for a minute, hoping that Amy would give me all the details about them, but she kept quiet as she finished dressing.

Finally, I couldn’t contain my curiosity. If they had just been regular guys I wouldn’t have cared, but I really needed to find out about these two.

“So, do you know the name of the blond boy?” I hoped my tone sounded off hand and casual.

“I knew it,” said Amy. “You do care!”

I shrugged. “Care is such a strong word. More like mildly curious.”

“All right,” said Amy. “Here’s what I know. Their names are Rhys Owen and Eric Douglass. They’re brothers who just moved here from somewhere out of country - I didn’t find out where. They were both adopted which is why they have different last names. Their father was in the military, so they’ve moved around a lot, but he just retired and moved here.”

We walked out of the locker rooms and into the gym. We were still on our volleyball unit for another week, so our teacher, Mrs. Herst, had the four nets already set up.

Amy leaned over and whispered. “So, which one do you like?”

I shrugged. “Neither.”

The look on Amy’s face was easily readable as disbelief. “How dumb do you think I am?”

She was too darn perceptive. She had clearly picked up on my interest in Rhys and Eric, but given how much I had hidden from her it was no surprise she jumped to the wrong conclusion. 

Mrs. Herst blew her whistle and Amy lightly punched me in the shoulder before we lined up.

I ended up on the same team with Ginger Johnson, which was about as fun as pulling out my fingernails. I wasn’t sure what I’d done to make her hate me – well, it had to be the fact that I dated Josh, but I didn’t know why that bothered her - but she refused to speak directly to me and went out of her way to exclude me from the game. Several times I caught her whispering to Marcy Williams and then the two of them burst out laughing while looking at me.

I tried to ignore them, but it was difficult, and I found myself getting angry. My reaction really took me by surprise. Not long ago, people laughing at me had been a natural part of my school day. Back then it hadn’t really bothered me – or I’d at least gotten used to it. Now, I had one person doing it and it was getting under my skin.

After Gym class, I hurried and changed hoping to see Rhys and Eric again before they left. I didn’t consciously think through my plans, but in the back of my mind I had considered following them after school to see what I could learn.

I dashed to my locker – which was unfortunately on the other side of the school - and switched out the things I would need at home. I had to hurry if I was going to make it to the parking lot before they left.

Walking as quickly as I could, I wound my way through what now felt like labyrinthine passageways until I emerged into the sunlight. It was likely to be one of the last sunny days before the annual winter deluge.

I scoured the parking lot and spotted Eric and Rhys getting into their Range Rover.

Moving quickly I walked towards my car, my backpack shaking awkwardly as I picked up speed.

Before I could reach the car, a voice called my name. “Madison!”

I looked back and saw Amy hurrying towards me, holding up a hand as she ran.

“Wait!”

Longingly, I watched Rhys and Eric get into their SUV. I sighed and waited for Amy.

“What’s going on?”

“Cory got detention today,” Amy said. She looked so sad that you might have thought someone had just slaughtered a litter of puppies in front of her. “Can you give me a ride home?”

Normally I loved spending any time I could with Amy, but the timing on this was bad. Monumentally bad. Paris Hilton acting bad.

I really wanted to get in my car and follow Eric and Rhys. But this was Amy, my best friend. How could I deny her when she looked so sad?

“Sure, let’s go,” I said and watched as Rhys and Eric pulled out of the parking lot.

When I turned away and unlocked the car, I noticed a smirk on Amy’s face. She had seen me watching them.

Great.

For the next two weeks I kept a close eye on Rhys and Eric. At first I tried to be inconspicuous, not wanting anyone to notice my special interest in them, but I eventually realized I would stand out less if I didn’t try to hide the fact that I was watching them since the rest of the girls in the school seemed to be doing it rather openly.

Rhys was still quiet and constantly watched all the boys in the school. He rarely seemed to be paying attention in class, but whenever a teacher asked him a question, he knew the answer.

Eric appeared to be more social, although the two of them still ate lunch together by themselves. Several times other students had joined them for a day, but for one reason or another they never went back a second time. 

Every day after gym class I rushed out in a vain attempt to follow them from school, but I consistently missed them. Usually they had already left by the time I got to the parking lot, but sometimes they appeared to be simply waiting in the hallways, watching people go by, occasionally whispering to each other. Unfortunately, I was never close enough to hear what they were saying, and that super sense heightening thing that sometimes happened to me didn’t just show up on demand.

To make matters worse, the situation with Ginger Johnson had deteriorated. It took me a while to understand why she seemed to hate me so much, but I finally pieced together enough of her comments to get the big picture.

She had been dating Jed Flick, the star of our football team last year. He had gotten a full-ride scholarship to USC and dumped her less than two weeks after the school year started. Add that shame to the fact that she was going out with someone who had told everyone that I – former fat girl and geek - had broken up with him and her ego had taken quite the beating.

She seemed determined to make herself feel better by embarrassing me. I wasn’t sure how making me seem like more of a loser would make it easier to accept that I had gone out with Josh, but I had a strong feeling logic wasn’t a factor here.

On Friday, I went to my locker and noticed something white on the upper vent. I opened it up to see that shaving cream had been sprayed inside, covering everything.

My first reaction was humiliation, but it was quickly replaced by anger. It didn’t take Stephen Hawking to figure out who did this. I slammed my locker shut and looked around, my senses heightened.

I saw Ginger all the way down the hall, walking away with Marcy Williams and Jessica Scholl. They were several hundred feet away, but I could see them as clearly as if they were standing next to me. The trio was walking arm in arm and despite the distance I heard them laughing as Ginger tossed a can of shaving cream into the trash.

I fought the urge to drag Ginger back to my locker by the hair and rub her face in the shaving cream.

Where had that reaction come from? I wasn’t a violent person. I was the opposite of violent. Pacifists pushed me around. Or at least they used to.

I turned around and slammed my fist into a locker, leaving a surprisingly deep dent. I pulled my hand back and looked at it, shocked that I hadn’t broken anything.

“Whoa, what’s with the Mike Tyson impression?”

Amy walked up to my locker holding hands with Cory Jones.

“Yeah, well, I kind of feel like biting a certain someone’s ear.” I opened my locker and showed her the damage.

Amy opened her mouth, but at first nothing came out. “Who did that? Who would be that mean? Especially to you. No offense, Madison, but you aren’t prepared to get into this kind of nasty cat fight - you’re too nice. Attacking you is like going hunting at the petting zoo.”

“I’ll go get some paper towels,” Cory said, leaving Amy and me alone.

Part of me was flattered that Amy thought I was too nice for cat fights. What she didn’t know was that under the nice exterior was... something – I still didn’t know what – that had the ability to fight back. And right now, it wasn’t that far from surfacing.

“I’ll give you three guesses,” I said. “And all of them had better be dating Josh.”

“Ginger?” Amy paused, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, that does make sense.”

“I saw her throw a can of shaving cream away just a few minutes ago.”

“So are you going to tell someone?” Amy asked.

I shook my head. “I don’t have any proof. It would be my word against hers.” I sighed and leaned against the lockers. My anger slipped away, replaced by a sense of resigned inevitability. “What should I do?”

“Nothing,” said Amy.

I looked at her quizzically. That didn’t sound like my best friend. “Wait a minute. Now that I finally need your help with some scheming you suddenly start channeling Ghandi?”

Amy held up a hand and looked offended. “Please. I have not given up on scheming. But if you retaliate, you’ll be playing into her hands. She wants you to fight back. She’s trying to provoke you into playing a game where she is an expert and you don’t even know the rules.”

Cory returned with a stack of paper towels. “I pretty much cleaned out the boy’s room,” he said. “But don’t worry, it’s not like guys ever wash their hands. I think these same towels have been in there since freshman year.”

“Eww,” said Amy, taking a step away from Cory. “You do though, right?”

Cory reached out and pulled Amy close. “Of course I do.”

I took the towels from Cory and began cleaning off my things. After a few minutes, the warning bell rang.

“You guys better go,” I said. “You’re going to be late.”

Amy hesitated. “Are you sure?” she asked. “I could stay and help you clean up.”

At least this part of Amy hadn’t changed. She only hesitated and asked if I was “sure” when she didn’t want to do something, but felt guilty about not doing it. If she had really wanted to stay, getting her to leave would have required a crowbar and several burly men to pry her off.  

“No, you and Cory go ahead. There’s no point in all of us being late.”

Amy gave me a commiserating smile and left. I spent the next ten minutes cleaning up my locker and came into Physics class well after the tardy bell.

I tried slip in as unobtrusively as possible, but it didn’t work. “Miss. Montgomery, I would like to speak with you after class,” said Mr. Shumway.

Not a good sign. I had been hoping he’d let it slide since I had never been tardy before.

Rhys glanced at me briefly as I came in, but it was nothing more than that – a glance. I wanted to pull him out of class and demand that he answer all my questions, but I didn’t know enough about him to reveal my secret. The longer I went without my learning anything about him, the more frustrated I became. I needed to get some answers soon, before I lost control of my powers in a public place and laid waste to the mall or flattened an office building.

These weren’t normal teenager problems. Normal teenagers worried about zits, popularity, dating – that sort of thing. My problems sounded like they belonged to Godzilla or the Incredible Hulk. Not exactly the role models a teenage girl wants to have.

After class was over I spoke with Mr. Shumway. I explained what had happened, and fortunately, he was very understanding. I think the fact that I had aced the last test may have given me a bit of an edge in this situation. Being smart has its perks - if not being punished when the most popular girl in school picks on you can be considered a perk.

As it turned out, the shaving cream in my locker was the high point of school that day.

My next class was American History. Class itself was fine, if not exactly an edge-of-your-seat adventure. The problem began at the end of class when I went to turn in my homework. I felt around on the tray under my desk where I had put my homework folder, but it was missing. 

I immediately turned to glare at Ginger Johnson – it had to be her, who else would take it? - but she just looked at me coolly and smiled. Anger flared inside me, and I felt that familiar heightening of my senses. Why was she torturing me? She already had Josh. What more did she want? If anyone should be mad, it should be me.

But Ginger sat two desks up and one over from me, too far away to have taken my folder herself. Besides, I would have noticed if she’d come near me. Once again my mind quickened, drawing conclusions I couldn’t have reached on my own. I instantly knew that Mark Smith, who sat behind me, had pulled it from under my desk while I wasn’t looking and had passed it forward via Andy Brewer, Julie King, and Lauren McCrea, all of whom were friends of Ginger.

The bell rang and Ginger gave me another annoying smile as she picked up her things and pranced out of the room, leaving me to deal with the wrath of Mrs. Gardner, which involved prostrating myself, repeated self-flogging, and begging for mercy.

In the end I was able to negotiate only a half letter grade drop if I did the assignment over and turned it in tomorrow.

I left the room feeling a strange mixture of humiliation and cold fury. All I can say is that it was a good thing Ginger was nowhere in sight.

Nothing happened in study hall so I used that time to redo my history homework.

Unfortunately, my brief respite from Ginger turned out to be far too brief. At lunch, I noticed that my seat felt slippery when I sat down. I stood up and saw that someone had smeared the chair with Vaseline. The back of my pants were completely covered, and I spent most of lunch in the girls’ bathroom trying to clean them off. I finally gave it up as a lost cause and called my mom to bring me a new pair. 

I got through Pre-calc without any problem, but in English I didn’t need Ginger’s help to look like a complete idiot. As I walked in the door, I was so busy staring at Rhys that I didn’t watch where I was going and banged my hip on the teacher’s desk. My books spilled out of my arms and scattered across the gritty tile floor.

My senses sharpened, and I was able to catch myself and prevent a full face-plant on the floor. When I looked up, Rhys was staring at me, a puzzled look on his face.

This time I was the one who turned away. I still had vivid memories of what it was like the last time I looked in his eyes with my sharpened senses, and I wasn’t sure if that was strictly one way or if he could also see into me. And the last thing I wanted was for him to see that deeply into me while I was having possibly the most humiliating day of my life.

I bent to gather my books but Rhys beat me to it. He held them out, a slight smile just faintly touching his lips. It was amazing that something as simple as a smile could transform his face. I had always thought he had been handsome, but with that smile he was beautiful. I was so transfixed that I forgot to reach out to grab the books.

“I think these are yours.”

With an almost superhuman effort I ripped my gaze away from his smile and took the books. “Thanks,” I managed to croak out. I dropped my head and hid behind my hair as I slunk into my seat.

Thanks? That was all I could come up with? The boy I had wanted to talk with for over two weeks finally spoke to me and “thanks” was all I could come up with? That was almost more embarrassing than dropping my books. I could live with someone thinking I was a klutz – I had been one most of my life - but the idea that he might think I was an idiot made me want to crawl under a rock and drop a mountain range or two on top of it.

I tried to listen as Mrs. Abrams discussed the themes in
Heart of Darkness
, but I couldn’t concentrate. I honestly wanted to focus, but my attention kept wandering to Rhys. That smile was the first sign of emotion I had seen from him. It had somehow changed my perception of him.

When the bell rang, Rhys made his usual bee-line for the exit, but he did glance back at me before slipping out the door.

I made my way to the gym on a bit of a high, despite the horrible, nasty, humiliating day I had.