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I’m so hot with delayed embarrassment that it feels like I’m going to melt into a puddle on the floor any minute. Lo hasn’t looked up but that smirk is still lurking around the corners of his mouth. I’m itching to slap it off his face and figure out at the same time how he got ahold of my unlisted number. I shove my phone back into my pocket.
Tearing my glance away from the annoyance on the other side of the window, I focus on Principal Cano, who is now looking through my file. Boring. Not much in there other than the usual—transcripts, grades, notes. On paper, I’m an exemplary student, never drawing unnecessary attention to myself.
My gaze spans the desk, and suddenly, my boredom disappears. Next to a heap of files on Cano’s desk is another open file far thinner than mine. The photo of an arrogant but familiar face is clipped to one corner.
Lo’s file.
I bolt upright and forward in my chair, curiosity peppering my brain. It would be so easy to glimmer over the desk without anyone being the wiser. Curiosity gets the better of me, and maybe a little desire for payback. The need to see what’s in that file becomes insistent. In a world governed by paperwork, his file is even thinner than mine, which makes him very interesting.
Lo obviously has money; otherwise, he wouldn’t be here. Not that it matters, but Dover is a snooty private school that isn’t exactly known for giving free rides. As a student with a royal trust fund and a generous long-standing alumni grant, I had no trouble getting admitted. Dover has been my family’s alma mater for centuries.
My real family...the nonhuman one.
Who wouldn’t exactly approve of what I am about to do. Especially my Handlers.
Shoving the thought of them away, I focus on the task at hand. Glimmering isn’t expressly forbidden so I’m not doing anything too untoward, but it is frowned upon because of the potential exposure. I’ll be careful so there won’t be any risk.
Taking a breath, I shrug off the nerves, feeling the water inside my body press against my skin in immediate response as a round weightlessness forms in the middle of my chest. I extend the glimmer-shadow outward like a ball of water, hovering over Principal Cano’s desk as he’s speaking and gesturing at some notes in my file.
From any outside perspective, I’m sitting in my chair and listening intently to what Cano is saying. But for my own purposes, my glimmer-self can now see the pages on the desk as easily as if I were sitting on Principal Cano’s lap. Which is a pretty gross thought.
Focus, I tell myself, and push slightly to the right.
The glimmer-shadow almost breaks but I pull it together with a long, slow breath that slivers through my teeth. Glimmering is a delicate business that involves manipulating minuscule amounts of water in the air and connecting those to the source in my body. The technical term for it is hydroprojection, which basically means controlling the energy of moisture to project an invisible extension of myself wherever I choose. But I like the word glimmer better because that’s what it looks like if anyone were to ever envision it.
As expected, the pages in my file are boring, basically showing my transcripts from my last school, my current grades, my extracurricular activities and all the usual stuff. I’m not interested in any of that. I am interested in the Annoyance. Hovering over the second file, I glance at the sparse notes. Lo is a C student. No surprise—I could have called that just from his don’t-care attitude. Did four sports at his last school including swimming and soccer, and is a Junior State Surf Champion. No surprise there, either. I just don’t get why he’s here and why he had transferred to Dover in the middle of his junior year, from Hawaii of all places.
A note in red on a yellow Post-it catches my attention on the corner of the manila folder. The words Under Observation are underlined several times. It’s stuck above a newspaper clipping. I almost lose hold of the glimmer at the horrific mangled photo of a boat. Nearly his whole family was killed in a sailing accident during a freak storm. His foster father survived but is on life support in some private hospital in Australia, and it appears that Lo was sent here to live with his biological mother, his only remaining family.
A pang of pity spirals its way through me, becoming more intense as it touches my glimmer-self, so much so that it ripples outward. Of their own volition, my eyes turn to the boy sitting in the waiting room outside and connect with a pair of liquid blue ones. He’s staring right at me.
I dissipate in an instant, broken apart by the fierce vulnerability in that look. Or maybe he looks that way because of what I’ve just read. Either way, I feel guilty for my spying even though he couldn’t possibly know what I’d been doing. There’s no way he or any other human would be able to see anything—glimmers are invisible, undetectable to human eyes. Only the Aquarathi—my people—can sense a glimmer, not humans. And Lo is not one of us. If he were, I would know him in an instant.
As an Aquarathi heir, my blood commands any of my kind to declare themselves to me, and it isn’t like they have control over doing so; their bodies respond. It’s complicated to explain, but we work in the same way that water bonds to water. A single drop is but a part of the whole.
Principal Cano’s voice snaps me back to reality.
“Sorry, sir?” I say, momentarily disoriented.
“He asked if you could send Mr. Seavon in on your way back to class?” Mrs. Leland, who is standing next to him, has picked up Lo’s file.
At my blank stare, Mrs. Leland gently clarifies. “Lotharius Seavon. The boy in the waiting room whom you were speaking to earlier.”
Lotharius? I nearly giggle out loud but compose myself. We do live in California, after all, where people name their kids after colors and adverbs and feelings. There’s even a kid called Happy on the surf team at Dover. Lotharius is tamer than most. And for some reason, it suits him, probably more so than “Lo” does. Maybe it’s his exotic looks, but “Max” or “Tony” just wouldn’t seem fitting.
“Oh, of course,” I say just as Mrs. Leland hands me another pile of college brochures. “Is he new here?” I can’t help myself but after seeing Lo’s file on the desk and having him brag earlier that he was a student, I have to know for sure.
“Yes, today is his first day, and he’s a junior like you.” She stares at me with a thoughtful look, tipping her little bird head to the side. “Actually, Ms. Marin, perhaps you could help to show Mr. Seavon around at lunch. Help him get his bearings a bit.” I want to kick myself in the teeth for even asking about Lo...now I’m going to be stuck with the annoying creature. I make a mental note to try to fail my next English exam just get my name off Cano’s “promising students” list, but with my luck, I’ll get hauled in twice as often.
I smile graciously through my gnashed teeth. If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my world, it’s that etiquette and flawless courtesy will get you anywhere, especially as a teen. It’s as if the adults don’t expect it. “Of course,” I say sweetly. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Thank you, Ms. Marin,” Principal Cano says, parting his lips in an odd grimace that barely passes for a smile. “As always, it’s been wonderful talking with you. Keep up the good work and be sure to let Mrs. Leland know if any of those—” he nods toward the brochures in my arms “—strike your fancy, and we can take it from there.” He presses a button on his desk phone and speaks into the handset just as I’m exiting the office. “Lori, we’re running a little behind. Can you readjust my schedule after Mr. Seavon? Thank you.”
Outside, Lo stares at me with the ever-present smirk on his face. His eyes, so vulnerable before, are now unreadable. The furrow speeds across my brow and is gone before I can process why his moodiness is even a blip on my radar. I don’t care.
A twinge of something slices through me as I think of all the tragedy in his life, but I’m not here to fix anyone, especially boys who obviously don’t want to be fixed. And I’m sure he’d be pissed if he knew that I’d looked at his file.
Guilt stabs me and I stare at him, inexplicably annoyed. “So...after you’re done, I have to, um, show you around later.”
Lo laughs, the sound of it rich and deep, and crinkling the outer corners of his eyes. The smile softens his entire face, transforming it from sharp to almost pleasant. I pretend not to notice. “Whoa, try not to sound so ecstatic! New-kid babysitter, the job you’ve always wanted.”
I can’t help but return the smile at his sarcastic comment. “Well, I don’t like to boast but they do call me the new-kid whisperer.”
“That must be pretty special.”
“So special,” I say with an exaggerated eye roll.
As we stare at each other with tentative smiles on our faces and laughter in our eyes, something strange flowers in the middle of my chest. It feels like a glimmer, only more tangible with its butterfly touches extending along my arms and legs, as if everything inside of me is responding to someone else’s glimmer call.
It’s not like I haven’t crushed on boys before, but this feels different than any of the other times. The unfamiliar feeling is climbing into my neck and making my blood race. I’m breathless and scared, but still want to sink feetfirst into it, letting it fill me up. For a second, I wonder if this is what Jenna feels whenever she talks about the butterflies she gets with Sawyer.
I’ve never had a real boyfriend, and I’ve definitely never been in love—it’s almost impossible for an Aquarathi to feel a connection with a human the same way we do with one of our own kind. It’s not an abomination or unnatural or anything outmoded like that; it’s just weird, like two pieces working fine together but not really perfectly matched.
“So what are you here for?” I say into the suddenly weighted silence stretching between us. “Orientation?”
A wicked grin. “Nope. Had that last week.”
“So you’re here voluntarily because...?”
“Not voluntarily. Detention,” he says with a wink.
“On your first day?” I gasp, shaking my head at his cavalier expression but struggling not to burst out laughing. There’s something about him that is so irritating yet appealing at the same time. It’s exasperating. Lo stands, swinging his backpack to his shoulder. He’s far taller than I expected, but then again I was practically immersed in water the first time we met. I fight the urge to step back at his sudden nearness and the smell of salt that I can almost taste on my tongue. “So what’d you do?”
“Cut class to go surfing.” He throws a hand out, gesturing at his clothing, but I keep my gaze planted firmly on his face. “Got caught trying to sneak in and get changed. No biggie.”
“Wow, all on your first day—first period, no less. That takes a certain kind of stupid,” I say.
“I don’t like to be confined. Or being told what to do.”
“I can see that, but you know, this is a school,” I say in a mocking tone. “And at school, there are these things called rules. And if you break them, there are consequences.”
Lo’s smile turns cool, very unlike his earlier ones. The air between us becomes heavy with sudden tension. “Well, guess I’ll know who to ask when I need a refresher on how to be perfect.”
“Says the guy heading for detention,” I snap back, stung by his taunt even though I’d just done the same to him. I’m not perfect—I just don’t act out as he obviously does. There’s a huge difference between the two. I can’t afford to call attention to myself, and I’m there to educate myself, not push the boundaries. I don’t know why I’m letting myself get so rattled by someone who doesn’t factor into my existence. “Whatever, I couldn’t care less what you do,” I say, stalking out of the waiting area.
“Sure you do. See you at lunch, Nerissa.”
3
IRRITATIONS
“Ugh, I can’t stand him!”
“Can’t stand who?” Jenna says through a mouthful of cheeseburger.
“Lo. Lotharius Seavon. The new kid. I’m surprised you haven’t seen or heard him yet, he loves himself so much.” I can hardly keep the venom from my voice. Two class periods later and almost halfway through lunch and I’m still flustered by our earlier exchange. And by the fact that he hasn’t shown up at the cafeteria, where we were supposed to meet. I saw him in English but he didn’t even look my way, and now I’m supposed to be nice to him and give him the grand tour? I mutter an expletive under my breath and poke viciously at my salad.
“Wow, that bad?”
“Jenna, you can’t even imagine how bad,” I seethe. “He honestly thinks he is God’s gift or something. I mean, I swear he has rocks for brains. First of all, who would cut their first day to go surfing and show up not in uniform and make fun of Cano almost to his face? An idiot, that’s who.”
“I’d cut to surf,” Sawyer interjects, his streaky brown hair falling into his eyes. “I mean, I wouldn’t get caught, but yeah, not like I haven’t done it before.”
“Yes, but it’s not the same thing,” I argue hotly. “And if you got caught, wouldn’t you at least act sorry? You know, have some remorse or something? It’s not like he even cares. And then to tell me that I’m so perfect because I follow the rules, what does that even mean?” Jenna is staring at me with a weird combination of hilarity and disbelief, her cheeseburger lying forgotten in her hand. I’m on a tirade now, so much so that I don’t notice the sudden wide-eyed look on Sawyer’s face. “Who does he think he is, anyway?”
“Talking about me again?” Lo’s voice over my shoulder is tinged with amusement. “You know, I’m going to start thinking that you have a crush on me.”
“What?” I splutter, every cell inside of me freezing in response. “As if I would ever be interested in you in a gazillion years!”
“That long?” Lo’s reply is mocking, but even my rudeness doesn’t stop him from sitting down at the table and smiling winsomely at Jenna, who has a very odd look on her face. She’s staring from me to Lo and back again, as if she’s seeing something fascinating. Fighting my stupid reaction to his buttery voice, I still haven’t looked at him, keeping my eyes averted as if that’ll make him disappear.
“Hey,” she says with a grin. “I’m Jenna, the snarky one’s best friend, and this is my boyfriend, Sawyer. I take it you’re the Antichrist or something.”
“More like the ‘or something.’” Lo’s laugh must be infectious, because everyone at the table is laughing. Well, everyone except me.
Forcing myself to look at him, I notice that even though he’s dressed in the required school uniform, Lo still manages to look as comfortable as he did in the hoodie and flip-flops earlier in the office. I also can’t help but notice that the navy blazer brings out the bluer flecks in his eyes. He grins and throws his arm across the back of my chair. “So you like my new look?”
I glare at him, my gaze sliding over his artlessly styled sandy hair, and shove my chair—and his arm—back from the table, my usually calm exterior surprisingly ruffled. “The one that screams Justin Bieber wannabe? Sure.” My sarcasm isn’t lost on Jenna, who is watching me carefully with an amused look on her face.
“I meant the clothes, but thanks for noticing the rest.”
“Look, let’s just get this over with before lunch ends. You coming?” I say to him, rolling my eyes skyward. Jenna is wide-eyed, staring at me now with something bordering on delight in her expression. My glare spins to her, but instead of quailing, she collapses into a fit of giggles. “What is your problem?” I snap. “Cano told me to show him around.”
“Nothing,” Jenna says, grinning. “Nothing at all.”
I ignore the fact that “nothing” in Jenna-speak means the exact opposite. I hate the fact that I’m so frazzled. Must be a combination of what happened with Speio and all the thoughts that have resurfaced about my family. I’m just not myself. Later, I’ll have to explain that to Jenna instead of letting her go on thinking that some new guy has me in a tizzy. Which, of course, he doesn’t.
“So, are you coming or what?” I say to Lo, who still hasn’t moved from the table. “Or maybe we can get Cara Andrews to take over as the official tour guide of Dover Prep. She’s only been staring this way for the past ten minutes like a lovesick puppy.”
Lo turns those dark eyes on me, amusement still flickering in their depths, but there’s something else there, too—a glint of disappointment, as if my earlier words had bothered him somehow. That makes no sense, I know. Lo doesn’t care what anyone thinks of him, far less me. It’s more likely his pride’s been injured or something.
“Sure, lead on. I am at your bidding,” he says, standing and ignoring my dig about Cara. My gaze flicks to his, but there’s nothing that reflects the slight mocking tone I heard in his voice. “Nice to meet you guys,” he says to Jenna and Sawyer.
“Yeah, definitely see you around!” Jenna singsongs with a grin at me that makes me want to throttle her.
“So obviously, you know that this is the cafeteria,” I say over my shoulder on the way out, throwing a murderous glare at my best friend. As we walk by Cara’s table, I can’t help noticing that her lovesick glances have now evolved into full-on venom directed at me. I sigh. Just great—all I need is to get in a war with an ex-nemesis over some guy prize that I don’t give two hoots about. She can have him for all I care. I’m just about to offer her the tour task—and simultaneous peace offering—when I notice that Lo’s already at the cafeteria doors, staring at me with an arrogant, challenging expression as if he’s expecting me to do just that.
Am I that predictable? I sigh and head toward him.
In the hallway, I walk briskly but Lo has no trouble keeping up with those long legs of his, not that I’m noticing that he has long legs. He’s just tall, I tell myself, and then realize that I’m having an internal argument about Lo—the thorn in my side—and his legs, which I now inexplicably feel like breaking.
“Cara’s got the hots for you,” I remark, angry with myself for letting him get under my skin. Again. “She’d do a much better job at this than I would.”
But Lo doesn’t answer, just continues to wear the same amused smile as if it’s his customary expression—or maybe it’s his expression around me. I must be so amusing to him. My leg-breaking thoughts return in full force.
“Lockers,” I snarl, throwing my hand to the side and gesturing needlessly to the metal-lined hallways. “Gym’s down that way, also pool, tennis courts and sports fields.”
“Where you play field hockey?”
“What?”
A smile. “I heard you were cocaptain. Plus, everyone’s talking about that game you guys won last week. Kind of hard to ignore.” Lo pauses to look at me, tilting his head and chewing on the corner of his lower lip as we’re walking. I look away quickly, enflamed again. “So, field hockey, huh? I just don’t see it.”
“See what?” I snap back, irritated for feeling so flustered around a stupid boy. I quicken my step, wanting to get this tour over with so I can get as far away from him as possible. “Down there’s the music hall and the auditorium.”
“You look more like a swimmer to me.”
“I hate the water,” I say without thinking. “Student center is down there.”
Lo’s chuckle is long and deep. I sprint up the stairs at the end of the hallway. “Didn’t look like you hated the water the other day.”
Crap, crap, double crap. “I meant I’m allergic to chlorine so I hate pool water.”
It’s not that I’m entirely allergic. Chlorine in intense concentrations can be irritating to our internal tissue, but it isn’t toxic or anything. I can swim in a pool fine, but the chlorine excuse works well as a response to anyone suggesting that I try out for the swim team, which Speio would likely have an aneurysm over.
“Interesting.”
“What’s interesting about that?” I can’t help myself but Lo’s quiet response bugs me.
“It’s too bad. You’re a strong swimmer.”
Confused by what sounds like a sincere compliment, I duck my head and then smile. “Hmm, thought that was you watching me before, like a—what were your words again?—oh, yes, a cherry smoothie,” I jibe, mimicking his words from that morning.
Lo winks. “Strawberry’s my favorite, but who’s checking?”
My breath hitches in my throat at his obvious admission, my words tumbling out past it. “Principal Cano’s office is down that hall, as you know. Plus, all the other admin offices and the faculty lounge. Media room over there down the same hallway. Art studio’s on that side. Classrooms. They’re pretty much the same, you know, the usual.” I turn toward him, still flushed at his casual admission of staring at me on the beach. “Look, this is pretty much it. Like every other high school.”
“I wouldn’t know. My last high school was twelve rooms.”
“In Hawaii?” I blurt out, and then kick myself. “I mean, Mrs. Leland mentioned that you were a transfer. From there.”
Lo throws me a long measured look. “She did?” I nod. “What else did Mrs. Leland say about me?”
“Not much, just that you had transferred because...” I trail off, unable to finish the sentence or find a quick enough substitute for because your family burned in a horrific accident. My immediate rush of pity is no surprise, nor is the sudden reaction to it on Lo’s face. His hard expression hits me like a bucket of ice water. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—” Every muscle in that angular face snaps to attention, his eyes becoming cold and unreadable.
“Thanks for showing me around.” Without another word, Lo stalks off in the opposite direction just as the bell rings. Flustered by his sudden departure, I retrace my steps to my locker to get my history books.
In class, I find myself unable to concentrate. Caught in the crossfire of Speio’s pointed looks, Jenna’s raised eyebrows, Cara’s demon scowls and the fascinating topic of the Bill of Rights, all I can think about is Lo and my hideous faux pas of alluding to his private secrets. From the look on my face, he’d guessed that I’d somehow found out about his family, and now I feel terrible for spying in Principal Cano’s office. I kick myself mentally for the nineteenth time.
