The Connected - Exiled Part 9

Zaren said, "You've been such a huge help. Thank you."

"Yes, thank you, Mrs. O'Hare."

The woman grumbled and slapped two notebooks and two Welcome to South High pencils. "Enjoy."

After they'd left the office, Dervinias said, "We have English first. Michael's in there, so try to be cool. Smooth. Friendly."

"I'll do my best," Venus said.

"Let's go."

He took off and once again, Zaren and Venus trailed Dervinias. He seemed to be right at home amongst all the kids. Happy even. She tried to duplicate his att.i.tude, but it wasn't happening. The hallway no longer had throngs of students bustling about. Pumpkin orange and mustard yellow lockers lined the walls with s.p.a.ces in between for cla.s.sroom doors. Candy wrappers and soda cans littered the floor. Someone slammed a locker.

They went up a set of stairs, avoiding a couple of kids tangled in each other's arms, making sucking noises.

Some guy pushed past them and yelled, "Get a room!"

The couple broke apart-barely. Hand in hand, they walked up the stairs.

When Zaren, Dervinias and Venus entered the crowded cla.s.sroom, she froze. Kids were everywhere, sitting on top of their desks or on each other. Music blared. Dervinias gave her a shove toward the back of the room. She'd never been so pleased to see seats available on the last row. When she'd been younger, she really wanted to go to school with the rest of the kelni's. She knew if allowed to go, she'd sit in the front. Eager to learn. An example to her peers. Now, here was an opportunity and she choked, heading straight to the back. Nerves electrified her veins. Embarra.s.sment, too. A feeling she wasn't familiar with. Venus threw herself in a seat and lowered her head.

"Hey Venus. Love the outfit."

She raised her head to see Cheverly waving, her seat near the middle. Venus waved back, trying to be cheerful. "Thanks."

The bell rang. A man with mousy brown hair, so messy it mesmerized her, walked into the room. He had his face buried in a book, but shut it before she had a chance to read the t.i.tle.

"Gatsby," he said, pulling off his tortoise-sh.e.l.l gla.s.ses and tucking them into the collar of his yellow polo s.h.i.+rt. "Open your books to chapter seven. Who can tell me what's going on?"

"Mr. Lundy. Hey, Mr. Lundy. We have some visitors." A girl with short, raven black hair made the comment. Her s.h.i.+rt was light pink as were her tights. She wore a fuchsia mini-skirt. On her feet were four-inch purple and hot pink Mary Jane's (yes, she knew the name of the shoes, especially since they were gorgeous), a hot pink ribbon tied across the top, holding the shoes to her feet. Cute, if you longed to look like a piece of bubblegum.

Mr. Lundy gazed at the students, as though disappointed he had to make eye contact. "Fine. Fine. Bring up your slips and introduce yourselves. Hustle."

Zaren went first. He placed the slip on Mr. Lundy's desk and then turned toward the cla.s.s. Clearing his throat, he began, "I'm Zaren Smith. Dervinias is my cousin. My, ah, sister and I will be staying with him for a while."

The whole sister-thing irritated her again. I'm not his sister, for cret's sake.

Giggles and whispers went around the room. All the girls were smitten. Why wouldn't they be? He was gorgeous. Still, Venus threw daggers, in the form of dirty looks, toward any girl who made eye contact.

"Young lady, are you going to keep us waiting all day?"

Dervinias smirked. He'd obviously been following her thoughts again. She glared. "Apologies, sir." She rose and went to the teacher's desk, dropped off the slip and turned. Her eyes immediately found Michael's. She hadn't meant to seek him out. A glimmer of surprise, maybe even pleasure crossed his face. He looked tired after last night's game and the party. It probably wasn't a good idea to wreak such havoc on a body, drinking and celebrating until all hours, only to get up the next day for school. Yet, even amongst the exhaustion on his face, there was a quality . . . He radiated a gentleness, which he seemed set on trying to hide, but it was apparent. His eyes were a caramel in color today, a hint of gold flecked around the edges.

"Venus is it?"

She jumped and looked at the teacher.

The cla.s.s laughed.

Michael lowered his gaze.

"That's correct." Venus raised her chin, lowering her hands to her sides and clenching them into fists.

"I think your brother told us everything we need to know. Have a seat." He waved her away.

As Venus walked by Cheverly, she gave her a strange look. Dervinias was laughing again. "That was the epitome of cool." Clearly he needed a good alien b.u.t.t kicking on a regular basis. Venus decided she was the kelarian to do it.

Zaren gently grabbed her arm and whispered, "You good?"

She took a deep breath struggling against the pressure on her lungs. "Perfect."

After the initial humiliation, the rest of cla.s.s dragged on. The teacher nearly put her to sleep. One guy, with curly red hair and freckles, actually snored. When the bell rang, they all bolted. Next, the three of them had Government. Then Computer Science. Michael wasn't in either cla.s.s. It gave her a chance to relax, settle in.

Both cla.s.ses were slow, the computers primitive. There was a moment of horror when she reworked a program to increase its speed. The teacher slathered her in praise. Her face turned hot with embarra.s.sment and Venus made a mental note to avoid messing with anything after that.

Then they all went to Spanish.

In a moment of bravery she picked a seat in the middle. Leaning over, Venus grabbed the South High notebook and dug around in her bag for the pencil. She must've forgotten it. "Cret," she whispered, still searching in a panic.

"You're in my seat, Venus." His tone sounded mocking. She knew instantly it was Michael. Raising her head, she watched him bend down so his face was centimeters from hers. She could almost taste the spearmint freshness of his breath. "Need a drink?" He chuckled.

"No, I'm looking for a pencil." Venus wanted to be nice-needed to be-but he was making it difficult.

"Well, do it in another seat." He pointed toward the back with a thumb.

Nervous, she glanced at Zaren, who gave her a smile. Then she grabbed her bag and stood. "Great, Michael. I will," she said sarcastically.

"Good," he responded with the same att.i.tude.

Venus found a seat in the back and slumped into it. How am I going to become friends with a guy who hates me? She glared at the back of his head.

Thankfully this teacher didn't make her introduce herself. Many of Earth's languages were effortless to her. So when the teacher had them repeat after him, she did so beautifully. Zaren and Dervinias, too. But beyond parroting the teacher, she ignored the lesson. Instead she went back and forth between throwing curses at Michael in English and Spanish, and contemplating her dilemma.

Each breath she took challenged her body. She knew it would only get worse. What if he didn't love Cheverly enough? What if she couldn't help them get back together. Once again she decided the way to Michael was through Cheverly. What else was there?

When cla.s.s ended, she hurried down the aisle, in a hurry to escape the claustrophobic room. As she walked past Michael, he grabbed her arm. At his touch, a jolt of . . . it felt like she'd been lit from within . . . shot through her. Like a fire had started in her heart and burned its way through her veins. It scared her and she pulled away.

"Next time, take a picture, it lasts longer." He scowled.

"How about if I slap you again?"

A wicked smile stole over his lips. "How about-"

Venus ran.

21. Live To Tell.

Lunch with Zaren and Dervinias was uneventful. But, at least she left for her next cla.s.s feeling better. Renewed. Zaren had that effect on her. It didn't last long, though.

All around her girls were changing from their regular clothes into what they called: gym clothes. Oddly, they put the clothes they'd been wearing into a tall rectangle, pulled out others and changed. After they'd slam the door, some girls would twist a black circular thing. Watching a few minutes, she realized that was where the numbers for the combination went. Right 23. Left 42. Right 11. Her combination number. She tried it on the locker with the number she'd been given.

It worked. Inside was . . . nothing. She went back to the long wooden bench and sat, panicked.

What should I do? Leave. I could walk back to Dervinias's. This whole school thing's a waste anyway.

"Hey," a girl with long red hair said. "You gonna sit there all day?" She was about Venus's size, with porcelain skin and honey eyes. "You're new, right?"

"Visiting." She held up the macaroni badge. "I didn't plan on P.E." Venus peered down at her clothes for emphasis.

"I have an extra set you can borrow." She opened her locker and threw Venus a pair of gold shorts and a white t-s.h.i.+rt, with some sort of gold animal head on its front. Across the top, outlined in black, the s.h.i.+rt said: South High Bison. "What size shoe you wear?"

Venus shook her head.

"Here, try them on." She tossed her a pair of white shoes.

Ah cret! She'd have to remove her boots again. "Thank you, ah-"

"The name's Tawny. And you're welcome. Those boots are way s.e.xy. Where'd you get them?"

Venus searched the locker room, pretending to think about it. Casually, she tucked her feet under the bench. Other girls had stopped to listen and she didn't want too much attention drawn to the thumping heart or the glowing arrow in the heels. "I can't remember the name," she replied, facing Tawny again.

"Huh, well hang on to those. You wouldn't want to lose them." Venus detected a flicker of envy, and . . . cunning. She'd seen the look on her sister many times. Right before she accused Venus of something awful. There were also the Cairna spiders, the way they lured you into their invisible web using what her people called The Soul Song. Once they sensed your presence, it was almost impossible to escape death. Was Tawny luring her with kindness? Perhaps.

She took a breath in an effort to speak with force, but an overflow of perfume, shampoo, hairspray and sweat in the air pummeled her lungs. And she coughed. And coughed. And coughed.

Tawny cleared her throat. "You okay?"

Venus nodded. "Fine."

"Who are you visiting? Dervinias, right? I know him, so I can find you if you don't give me back my stuff." She smiled. It looked wild and cruel.

"Of course."

Tawny and the other girls turned and walked out of the locker room.

Alone, she took off her boots. Apprehension at the idea of leaving them tore at her. She hoped continued removal wouldn't make the toxic air even more detrimental.

YES, a voice shouted inside her head.

To her knowledge, no kelarian had ever removed their boots before finis.h.i.+ng their immortal's journey. She'd already taken hers off a few times. And, to make matters worse, she kept doing it on Planet Killer-Earth.

"Cret," she swore, knowing she was going to take them off anyway. It'd only be for forty-five minutes, she told herself, hoping such a short amount of time wouldn't make a difference. Three. Two. One. Venus pulled on the tongue and watched her boots unlatch themselves. Removing them, she carefully put them in an empty locker. Then she changed and went to the gym.

22. Cherry Bomb.

Venus was a total s.k.a.n.k. She'd killed Kelvin, and she was going to pay.

Dervinias had said she was royalty on her planet. Ha! He had his reasons for killing Venus. Well Tawny had her own. Watching her cough in the locker room, she had a hard time believing the weak-looking thing could hurt a fly, let alone the hulking Kelvin, but Dervinias said he witnessed it. She had no reason to doubt him.

So it was payback time. Tonight she'd find her and finish what Kelvin couldn't, but right now she wanted the alien's boots.

They were wicked-cool.

Sometime during the next hour she'd find a way to steal them.

When she saw Venus stumble into the gym, she knew what she needed to do. To her friends, she said, "Time to make the visitor feel welcome."

"Oh yeah," Carla agreed.

23. Sledgehammer.

The gym teacher's name was Mrs. Hamlin. She took roll. Afterward, she informed them they were beginning a new rotation. Soccer. Venus had briefly studied the rules of the game, but wasn't sure she remembered all of them. The teacher chose two team captains.

The process fascinated her. One of the team captains was Tawny. Because she helped Venus with gym clothes, she figured Tawny would be kind enough to pick her as a teammate. That didn't happen. Quite the opposite, she ignored Venus.

Nancy, the other girl chosen as a team captain, appeared reluctant to choose players without getting Tawny's *okay' first.

Tawny picked a few of the girls who'd been standing around in the locker room. Nancy chose girls who were obviously her friends. But it was clear from the looks of longing on most of the girls' faces that they all wanted to be on Tawny's team.

So, Tawny must be some sort of leader in the school, Venus mused as she watched.

"Carla," Tawny yelled.

The girl ran over. She raised her hand and high-fived the red-headed leader.

Nancy went next. "Uh, Lucy," she said, but glanced at Tawny to make sure her choice was acceptable. Tawny lifted her chin. Nancy smiled when Lucy came over and stood next to her. The choice had been approved.

"Maddie," Tawny called next.

Maddie sauntered over like it was obvious she should be on Tawny's team.

Another high-five. "Yay," Maddie cheered. Carla and Maddie clutched hands and jumped up and down as though they'd won the best prize ever.

The choosing ritual went on for a while.

Venus watched as the girls selected for Tawny's team acted superior to those chosen for Nancy's team.