Wicked Fate (The Wicked Trilogy) (11 page)


Sorry—didn’t mean to scare you.
Do you want a
nything before the movie starts? I could
get it for you.”

“No, I’m okay—thank you,” I whisper
back.

“Okay
,
I’ll be right back.”

He squeezes
through the
a
isle and
then out the
theater
to go to the concession area
.
I use this time to try and catch my breath. My spine still tingles from
his whispers
and even though no one can see me in the dark, I know I’m blushing
all o
ver.

“I think A
dam likes you,” Bernie whispers
in my other ear.

I roll
my eyes
and suck my teeth
.

Yeah right!

He’s just being nice because I saved his life. The only thing Adam finds interesting about me is the weird stuff I can do. I know I’m
interested in Adam
and everything Adam related, but I’
d neve
r tell another soul that—the
risk of looking like a
complete fool i
s just too large.

“I se
riously doubt that,” I shake my head.

And then there he is again—sucking the breath right out of me. He sticks
a bottle of wat
er in my drink holder and sits next to me.

“Thank you,” I smile.

He gives me his sideways, sexy smirk and I spend the next five minutes replaying that smirk in my head over and over again. I’m
becoming pretty pathetic
when it comes to him and I’m pretty sure he knows it, too.

The movie makes us laugh-out-loud constantly and I can’t believe how much fun I’m having. My first movie experience is turning out to be everything I’d hoped it would be and more.

I reach
down for my bottle of water and
my arm brushes against Adam’s. The electrical pulse that shocks me is definitely not the kind produced by static. I envision bright electrical sparks flying from our arms where we touch. We both look
up at each other when
it happens.

Did he feel it too?

I turn away quickly and drink my water. His concentrated stare is branding the side of my face, so I try extra hard not to spill any like an idiot. When I return the bottle back into the drink holder, I rest my arm there. From that point on, I have issues paying attention to the movie. I stare straight ahead and pray for it to be over soon. Being this close to Adam is driving me nuts.

There’s something warm brushing against the top of my hand. I look
dow
n to see that it’s Adam’s finger as he softly writes gibberish on the top of my hand. He turns my hand over and begins writing on my palm. My heart slams against my ribs and I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.

Air! Please someone give me mouth-to-mouth! Adam? Mouth-to-mouth…please?

He’s not looking at me as he softly touches me; instead he watches our hands. And then it stops. I look down in time to find him making a fist as if it’s the only way he can stop himself.

“Sorry,” he whispers
.

I say nothing since I can’t breathe, much less talk.  Our hands are so close—almost touching and I can’t take it anymore.  With a sudden stroke of courage, I grab his hand. He intertwines his fingers with mine and
s
queezes lightly. We’re silent for the rest of the movie.

Holding Adam’s hand feels right, like it’
s the most natural thing in the world for me to do.

Occasionally, he looks
over at me and shyly smile
s, but that’
s
it. He holds my hand throughout the movie and doesn’t let go when it’s time to leave. A big goofy smile is plastered on my face. I try to push the corners down, but I can’t.  One minute he’
s offering to buy me a drink and touching me softly on my ha
nd, and then the next minute we’re holding hands like it’s something we do
every day.

Adam and Kale walk us to Bernie’s car and we all say our goodbyes.
Adam and I
secretly smile at each other as he walks away.

“Holding hands now, huh?” Bernie smirks. “Adam and Mage
sittin
’ in a tree K.I S….”she sings.

I shush her.

“It was nothing…I think,” I blush.

“Didn’t look like nothing to me,” she clicks her tongue.

Adam and Kale pull
out
ahead of us and Bernie tells
me that the full-
sized thunderous truck they’re riding in belongs
to Adam.

“Kale said it was an early Christmas present from his dad. Pretty nice Christmas gift, if you ask me.”

On the drive back to my house, she fills me in on everything that was going on between Kale and her during the movie. Thankfully, it was too dark to see that Kale was feeling-her-up in the theater the entire time.


Gawd
!
I was sitting right beside y’all! He’s such a pervert. Couldn’t he have at least waited until you were alone?” I pretend to gag.

“What can I say? He can’t keep his hands off of me,” she playfully pops her collar.

We laugh.

When I get home, I creep silently through the house and then dress for bed. With Sire right next to me, I fall asleep in minutes.  Lucky for me, I dream of Adam.

 

 

 

Chapter 8

The Greatest Gift

 

 

 
                       

It’s November
,
and the holidays are right around the corn
er. We don’t
exchange gifts in my house
, but
it’s still nice to see everyone around you in a cheerful
,
giving mood. Not to
mention, my sixteenth birthday’
s coming
up
. On December thirty-first I’ll
officially
be one year older.
Sixteen’s supposed to be a big deal—not so much.

Like the old saying goes, change is inevitable. Things are definitely changing at school. It seems like now that Bernie and I hang out, people are becoming comfortable with me—some even talk to me. Apparently, Bernie’s big, fun personality is too hard for people to ignore. The social butterfly in her can’t be suppressed and so she flitters around school talking to everyone.

Still, I remain
my si
lent self. Being shy is something I can’t shake.
I’ve become wh
at people want me to be. People
automatically assume that I’m quiet, so I
always
stay quiet. They believe th
at I’m a strange girl, so I’ve always tried to be strange, which isn’t hard for me
. People assume that I’m a loner
, so I’ve always been a loner. I stick to myself—it’s what’s easy.

Some changes take time—being social with these people will take me a while.
After y
ears of complete seclusion I have
no idea how
to socialize, but at least I’m trying. With Bernie it’s different, she pushes me to socialize—she takes my choice away completely, which I kind of like.

Another change at school—my
little lonely bench outside
isn’t so lonely anymore. It
went from just me
, to
me and
Bernie, and it now has
the additio
n of Kale, too. He and Bernie have become inseparable since movie night
.

The bad news is…Kale’s totally flirty and annoying. The good news is…him coming around more often means I see Adam more. Not that it matters since we still don’t really talk to each other.
After the

holding hands

thing a
t the movies, neither of us knows how to act—it’s super awkward.

Bernie keeps asking me if Adam and I have
issue
s
with each other.

“You could cut the tension between you two with a knife. What’s going on?”

“Nothing that I know of,” I blow it off.

I change
the su
bject to something that involves
fashion or fashion magazines.
That backfires in my face—the only thing it gets me is a guaranteed make-over from Bernie and her mom.

Smooth move
,
Mage!

I brought my lunch today, so I don’t have to go through the dreaded lunch line. Just a quick visit to the soda machine right inside the cafeteria and then I can go straight outside. I’m happy that I don’t have to spend more than three minutes in the packed room.

I put my money in the machine and press the button for a bottle of water. Nothing happens. I smack the front of the machine with my hand—still nothing. I smack it again. Stupid machine!

“Come
on, Wednesday Adams, can we mov
e it along already?” an unfamiliar, male voice says behind me.

I turn around to see who it is and a strange redheaded boy stands there with his hands in his pockets. He looks at me like I’m an idiot. The guy beside him, someone who does look familiar to me, taps the newbie redhead on the arm.

“Dude, don’t mess with her,” he whispers.

He turns his head away so I can’t see his mouth moving.

Ignoring them, I turn and try again to get my bottled water—still nothing. As I dig through my bag for more money, I hear the familiar boy whisper something else before the new guy gets loud.

“Why? What the hell’s she going to do? Stomp on my toes and bite my ankle like a little rat dog? Dude, I eat girls like her for breakfast…literally.”

I swing around at his rude words and he attempts a flirty smirk as he nods at me. It’s not cute at all—if anything it makes me nauseated.

“Damn, now that I’m getting a good look at you, you’re kind of a sweet
lookin
’ little thing,” he taps the other guys arm jokingly. “You know what they say about those freaky,
goth
girls, don’t you?” He runs his hands through his orange-tinted hair and licks his lips in an obvious manner.

It’s really gross to watch.

Disgusted, I turn to walk away. He grabs my arm stopping me—his fingers dig into my skin.

“They say little freaks like you are wildcats in bed. Want to let me find out if what they say is true?” he says in a sloppy, wet whisper.

I wipe his sprayed spit from my cheek. His breath is hot and smells like cigarettes. My stomach rolls and I feel my anger starting to build. A spark starts in my shoulder instantly. I imagine myself zapping his ginger ass across the cafeteria.

“If you don’t get your damn hands off of her, I swear I’ll break every one of your fingers…slowly,” Adam’s deep voice is welcomed.

I turn to face him. His eyes which are usually flirty and green, have taken a ferocious turn. They’re dark evergreens and he’s looming over the vile boy like a tall, pissed off tree. His nostrils flare with his hard, angry breaths. My little, second grade protector isn’t so little anymore.

The new boy lets go of my arm roughly. I rub the spot where his fingers were digging in.

“My bad, Dude,” he holds up his hands in surrender then turns and walks off.

As he’s walking by, Adam reaches up to run his fingers through his dark hair and the redhead jerks in fear. I giggle a little behind my hand at the scene.

Adam turns his amused eyes my way.

“You okay?” he asks.

I’m happy to see that playful Adam is back.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for that,” I nervously tuck my hair behind my ears.

With the side of his fist, he pounds on the side of the soda machine. A bottle of water pops out. He pulls it out of the dispenser, flips it in his hand once, and then hands it over to me.

“No worries, baby,” he winks and walks off.

I don’t touch the floor for the rest of the day.

 

**********

 

Soon it’s Thanksgiving. I’m spending holiday off from school catching up on housework.
We don’t really do holidays a
t my house anymore so that means no big Thanksgiving
dinner. A chicken sa
lad sandwich i
n
the library with Thaddeus is the closest thing I get. I set a sandwich on my grandfather’s dresser in case he gets hungry—Happy Thanksgiving.

I still
haven’t had a chance
to mention my nightmare to him, which means my grandmother’s still on my case. She seems to think that telling him is the most important thing in the world, but it’s kind of hard to have a conversation with someone who doesn’t even know who you are.

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