Obsidian (Lux 1) - Page 32/91

My brain got hung up on the words ‘used to’ for a second.

“Anyway, she heard about him coming to your rescue that night. Of course she’s going to hate you.”

“Are you serious?” I didn’t believe her. “All of that because Daemon saved me from being killed?” Frustrated, I slammed my splint down on the table and winced. “And Daemon treats me like I’m a total terrorist. Ridiculous.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” she replied quietly. “I think he wants to, to be honest. But he doesn’t. That’s why he acts like that.”

That made no sense to me. “Why would he want to hate me? I don’t want to hate him, but he makes it hard not to.”

Dee glanced up, her eyes full of tears. “Kat, I’m sorry. My family is a little weird. So is this town. So is Ash. See, her family is…is a friend of our family. And all of us have a lot in common.” I stared at her, waiting for her to explain how in the hell that had anything to do with Ash’s bitchiness.

“They’re triplets, you know?” Dee sat back against the booth, staring listlessly at her plate. “She has two brothers, Adam and Andrew.”

“Wait.” I gaped at her. “You’re telling me there is a set of triplets here and you guys are twins?”

Her face scrunched up as she nodded.

“In a town with a population of, like, five hundred?”

“I know, it’s weird,” she said, glancing up. “But we do have it in common and all of us are kind of tight-knit. Small towns don’t do well with weird. And I’m sort of dating her brother Adam.”

I gaped. “You have a boyfriend?” When she nodded, I shook my head. “You’ve never mentioned him before.”

She shrugged, looking away. “It’s not something I thought about bringing up. We don’t see each other a lot.”

I clamped my mouth shut. What girl doesn’t talk about her boyfriend? If I had one, I’d talk about him, at least mention him once. Maybe twice. I stared at Dee with new eyes, wondering how much more she wasn’t telling me. Sitting back, my gaze drifted beyond Dee, and it was like a switch being thrown.

I started noticing things—little things.

Like how the redheaded waitress with a pencil stuck in her bun kept glancing over at me and touching the shiny, black gemstone on her necklace. Then there was the old man sitting at the bar, food untouched, staring at us while muttering under his breath. He looked a bit crazy. My eyes flitted around the diner. A lady in a business suit caught my eye. She sneered and turned back to her companion. He glanced over his shoulder, and his face paled.

Quickly, I turned back to Dee. She looked oblivious to it all, or maybe she was trying real hard to ignore it. Tension clotted the air. It was like an invisible line had been drawn somewhere and I’d skipped right over it. I could feel all of them, dozens of eyes, settling on me. All of their gazes filled with distrust and an emotion far, far worse.

Fear.

The last thing I wanted to be wearing was a splint on my first day at a new school, but since my mom was insistent that I’d wait until my checkup tomorrow after school, I was stuck with more than the ‘Look, a new girl!’ reactions I got the moment I stepped into the halls of PHS. I had those looks plus ‘Look, a new girl who’s been beaten up!’ too.

Everyone stared as if I were a two-headed alien rolling up into school. I wasn’t sure if I should feel like a celebrity or an escaped mental patient. No one spoke to me.

Luckily, PHS was easy to navigate and find classes. I was used to high schools that were at least four stories tall, had multiple wings, and open campuses. PHS had a couple of floors, but that was it.

I found my homeroom class easily and sat through curious stares and a few tentative smiles. I didn’t see my neighbors until second period, and it was Daemon who strolled in seconds before the bell rang, with an easy smile on his full lips. Conversations practically ceased. Several of the girls around me even stopped scribbling in on their notebooks.

Daemon had a sort of rock star entrance with that deadly swagger. He had everyone’s attention, especially when he shifted his trig textbook from one hand to the other and then ran his fingers through the tousled waves of his thick hair, letting it fall back over his forehead. His jeans hung low on his hips, so when he lifted his arm, he flashed a row of golden skin that somehow made math all the more interesting.

A girl with reddish hair sighed next to me and said under her breath, “God, what I wouldn’t do for a piece of that. A Daemon sandwich should be on the menu.”

Another girl giggled. “That is terrible.”

“Along with the Thompson twins as a side dish,” the redhead replied, flushing as he drew close.

“Lesa, you’re such a ho-bag,” laughed the brunette.

I hastily averted my eyes to my notebook, but I still knew he’d taken the seat directly behind me. The entire length of my back tingled. A second later, I felt something poke me in my back. Biting down on my lip, I glanced over my shoulder.

His smile was lopsided. “How’s the arm, Kittykat?”

Excitement and dread warred inside me. Did he write on my back? I wouldn’t be surprised if he had. I felt my cheeks redden at the sparkle in his green eyes. “Good,” I said, tucking my hair back. “I get the splint off tomorrow, I think.” Daemon tapped his pen off the edge of the desk. “That should help.”

“Help with what?”

He circled the pen in the air, apparently encompassing my fashion sense. “With what you’ve got going on there.”