Prophecy Read online

  He chuckled, proud to have incited a reaction. I lifted my booted foot and brought a two-inch chunky heel down on his toe.

  “Bitch!”

  Everyone gasped and looked in our direction.

  “Kirk stubbed his toe,” I announced.

  Mr. Heaver leveled his gaze on Kirk. “Language, Mr. Fennel.”

  Kirk snarled. “If my toe’s broken and I can’t practice tonight, you’ll be sorry.”

  I responded loud enough for our spectators to hear. “You should be more careful.”

  “I fucking hate you,” he whispered, limping away.

  In my periphery, Liam’s shoulders moved up and down. I assumed he laughed at me but I refused to acknowledge his response.

  Across the room, Kirk glared with narrow, hate-filled eyes.

  I turned to Liam, blocking Kirk from my mind and curious about what Liam was up to online. Completing scholarship applications like me? Did rich Icelandic kids need scholarship money? A dark site with strange markings in the banner and a bearded man carrying a staff filled his screen. Liam’s position obscured half the site’s title, but the man with the beard was Zeus. I’d recognize him anywhere, thanks to Mom’s former preoccupation with mythology. When Liam saw me looking, he shut the window.

  What Liam had learned about me today: I liked being licked. I was still nosey and mildly violent.

  Liam tilted his head in Kirk’s direction. “I heard that about you.”

  “You heard I wasted two years of my life on an ear-licking moron?”

  “No. You have a quick temper.”

  Not what I’d expected. How perplexing. Did I have a quick temper? I glanced at Kirk. I’d lost patience with him because he was disgusting and provoked me relentlessly. “Everything he says is a lie.”

  Did other people say that about me? How many Callie Ingram rumors had Liam been exposed to already? Ridiculous.

  “Pity.” Liam’s voice was low, so low I almost missed the word. Pity.

  I cocked an eyebrow and reversed through Kirk’s smart-ass comments, wondering what Liam thought was a pity. My mind locked on Kirk’s most humiliating words. He’d said I liked being licked. My face heated and Liam chuckled.

  I faced him in an outward challenge. “You should know what it’s like. I’m not the only one buried in gossip.” If he’d heard things about me, surely he’d heard the things people said about his family.

  His playful expression turned solemn.

  “Sorry,” I whispered, turning back to my screen. It wasn’t nice to remind him of the awful rumors surrounding his sudden appearance or his family history. Maybe I did have a quick temper.

  “I guess we have gossip in common. Sounds like the makings of a true friendship.”

  I slid my gaze his way. My chest expanded in a sudden intake of breath. Liam wore a devastatingly handsome half-smile. A surge of energy coursed through me. I’d made him smile.

  I rubbed nerve-slicked palms against my jeans. “I’ve bonded over worse things.”

  “Do tell.” Liam anchored an elbow on the table and lowered his chin into his palm, batting long black lashes. I assumed this was his impression of a girl. I shoved his elbow off the table and his head dipped.

  “Feisty, isn’t she.” Kirk approached with a slight limp and an evil look of jealousy, quite a fierce protector of his “sloppy seconds.”

  I scanned the room for our librarian, who was nowhere to be found, and braced myself for whatever crap Kirk had come to deliver. Mr. Heaver had gone back to his class after giving Kirk and the other test takers their instructions. Liam was silent at my side.

  “You should see her in the sack.” Kirk directed his stupidity at Liam this time. “Feisty there, too.”

  “You dumped me because I wouldn’t get in your sack, remember?” I turned in my seat to face him and came too close for comfort with his waistband. I stood, popping a hip and squaring my shoulders. He was going to see feisty. “Which is it smart guy? Am I a total slut or am I a prude? You’ll have to decide because your constant contradictions don’t make any sense. I can’t be both, now can I? Or hadn’t that occurred to you?”

  He laughed. “Relax, Callie. It’s okay if you want to spend your life as a virgin. Just don’t expect some guy to put up with it any longer than I did. You ruined a good thing. That’s all on you.”

  My fingers balled into tight fists. “I plan to have lots of sex, Kirk, just never with you this side of a roofie.”

  Snickers echoed through the quiet library, and I gritted my teeth against the embarrassment. Why did our every exchange need to be public and hostile? Why couldn’t I ever keep my mouth shut? Kirk looked around the room, maybe to egg his audience on, maybe checking for the teacher or his absent crew.

  He leaned into my space, growling in my face. “You’re such a raging bitch, Callie.”

  “No. I believe you’re thinking of the rash Hannah gave you. That’s the only thing raging around here.”

  He curled his fingertips over my shoulders in a flash, stopping the blood flow beneath them.

  “Let her go.” Liam spoke in a gravelly voice. The words blew down over the top of my hair. How tall was he? Kirk looked over my head. He pulled his lips back over his teeth like an animal.

  “Back off, Hale. Sit your little Swedish ass down before I teach you the rules here.”

  “I won’t tell you again.” Liam sounded serious.

  I ached to warn him, but emotion strangled me. Kirk didn’t fight fair and he fought often. Whatever happened next wouldn’t be good and I had no way to stop it. Defeat and desperation fought for position in my muddled brain.

  Kirk’s grip loosened on my shoulders. The muscle in his jaw twitched. A vein in his neck bulged blue. Fear for Liam replaced my concern for the bruises raising on my shoulders.

  Kirk stepped around me, dropping his hands in a palms-up come-at-me motion.

  Liam matched Kirk’s move. “He doesn’t like that you dumped him and he’s not ready to let you go so easily. He says whatever will make you angry, just to get a response—which you give too freely.”

  I scoffed. Worst. Hero. Ever. “Excuse me?”

  Liam continued speaking to me; his attention wholly focused on Kirk. “I suspect he regrets losing you and has dejectedly accepted public harassment as a way to remain in your life. It serves a secondary purpose as well, by warning off other potential suitors.”

  “And you think I respond too freely?” I spat his words back at him.

  “Your heated responses fuel the fire.”

  For a moment, I wasn’t sure who I wanted to hit more.

  Kirk moved forward, balling his hands into fists. Rage contorted his features, reminding me of the very real fight brewing.

  Liam leered at Kirk. “Thank the gods. Are you finally out of words?”

  Pleas crammed their way out of my mouth in a jumbled heap. “Don’t. Liam. Stop. He’s not worth a suspension on your second day. Forget about him. Let it go.” Much as I wanted to smack him for his insinuation I provided fuel for Kirk’s idiocy, I didn’t want to see him suspended.

  “Nope.”

  I blinked. What? Nope? Who was this guy?

  “I’d listen to her, chap.” Kirk sucked his teeth, pleased at the only foreign expression he’d probably ever heard. One they probably never used outside of old movies.

  Liam placed his hand on the small of my back as he repositioned himself between me and my bully.

  “Callie’s my new friend.” An edge of possessiveness darkened the shocking statement. “You shouldn’t provoke my friends.”

  Kirk dropped his head back and barked a laugh. I tilted my head back for a better look at Liam’s face. Did he not just insult me five seconds ago? The students all stared, texting rapidly in their seats.

  Kirk repeated his orders. “I told you to sit down.”

  “Nope.”

  I smirked. Nope was strangely funny in the face of Kirk’s wrath.
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  Kirk dropped his gaze to me and pursed his lips. He shot a long arm out to grab me again, but Liam knocked it away midair. A gasp rolled over our crowd.

  “Don’t touch her.”

  “Fine.” Kirk shoved the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “Maybe a good country ass kicking will teach you a lesson, chap.”

  Again with the chap.

  Liam punched Kirk in the head without warning and his chin flipped upward. Kirk stumbled backward. Awkwardly regaining balance, he dove for Liam. I jumped out of the way, tangling my feet in the legs of my chair. I went down on the floor beside them.

  “Mr. Hale! Mr. Fennel!” The librarian screamed. I hadn’t seen her return. “Stop it this instant!” She banged her palm on the little silver service bell at her desk. “Someone get the principal.” She stomped across the floor to where the guys were throttling one another. She rapped them on the heads with a green plastic fly swatter until they disengaged their limbs and stood like two fighters torn apart at an MMA match.

  “Are you okay?” Liam squatted instantly before me when he saw me sitting on the floor. He extended his hand and pulled me up with him. To my utter disbelief, he tucked me against his side.

  “Yeah. I’m okay.” My heart pounded. What the hell had happened here? My head spun with the implications of two guys fighting over me. In school. With an audience.

  “No PDA.” Kirk motioned to me at Liam’s side.

  The librarian harrumphed. Maybe she’d seen Kirk dry humping Hannah in the hallway between classes, too. I fought the urge to stick out my tongue and focused instead on the vibration starting in my hands and chest. Adrenaline kicked my heart into double time. Holy crap! What happened?

  Liam’s gaze drifted over me, checking for injury, I assumed. The top of my head leveled below his shoulder. I did some mental math as the principal appeared, lectured on school policy, and insisted we follow him to his office. If I was five foot four and Liam’s head and neck were a foot tall… Wait, how tall was a person’s head?

  Principal Mansfield led our group, with Kirk at his side, pleading his case. Detention would interfere with football practice and that wouldn’t serve anyone. I rolled my eyes. Liam walked behind them by a step. I followed on Liam’s heels.

  He glanced at me. “I apologize if I offended you back there. I’m not good with words. And my social filter isn’t one of the best.”

  I smiled. Stupidly. He hadn’t intended to be harsh. “Apology accepted. This time,” I warned. “I don’t mean to respond to Kirk the way I do. I know it’s stupid, but he hounds me until I want to choke him.” A tiny laugh bubbled in my chest. “I’m a struggling pacifist.”

  He sniffed out a silent laugh. “Very well. I imagine pacifism isn’t easy.” A wicked gleam lit his eye as if I’d somehow missed an inside joke.

  “How tall are you?” I whispered.

  “Six four.”

  Justin was six one and that was tall. “Will you be in much trouble for this?” I had no idea what his parents were like. Would they go berserk like Allison’s or shrug it off like my mom would? My gut twisted at the thought I’d caused him more trouble in a school already scrutinizing his every move.

  “What’s the policy?” he asked.

  I moved to his side, matching my pace with his. “A week’s detention, probably, but I meant will your parents be very mad?”

  He shook his head and walked in silence the rest of the way to the principal’s office, leaving me cast aside once more.

  Chapter 5

  Principal Mansfield interviewed us separately before calling our parents. Fighting was grounds for a three-day suspension, but we lived in football country and Kirk had taken our team to state since freshman year. There was a sharp curve on acceptable player behavior several months a year. He’d never be suspended during football season. Detention was doubtful, too. If detention kept Kirk from practice, there’d be hell to pay in the form of a football-dad mob and raging protests from the boosters. Parents ran small-town high schools with their wallets.

  Kirk strode out of Principal Mansfield’s office first with a look of smug satisfaction. Liam went in next and left with his usual mask of complacency and annoyance, as if high school was too trivial to bother with and attending was a punishment. I went in last, explaining the situation as well as I could without giving away my bias or revealing Kirk’s hurtful words.

  Principal Mansfield dialed my home and handed me the phone. The call woke Mom. She slept while I was at school. It took effort to convince her I was serious about being in trouble for a fight in the library between two guys. When I finished “explaining myself” as Principal Mansfield instructed, he spoke with her. I got detention, but Principal Mansfield got an earful from my mom. Her voice carried through the receiver, unintelligible to me, but audible. Mom was like that. Sensible. I’d had nothing to do with them attacking each other. Though, Liam had tried to defend me. Baffling. Maybe it wasn’t about me. Maybe he really didn’t like being called chap.

  My newfound personality disorder carried me to detention with hope. It was hard to be too upset about three days of camaraderie with Liam. Detention was held in the largest room on the second floor, though this time of year it was missing the usual inhabitants: the football team. The room was quiet and nearly empty. Of the two dozen desks, less than half were occupied. Liam sat near the back of the room. I took the seat beside his. He didn’t look up from the open book on his desk.

  The woodshop teacher sat up front, using his pocketknife to slice chunks off an apple. He sliced a piece loose, skewered it with the tip of his blade, and stuck it in his mouth, repeating the process with utter disinterest, until the apple was nothing but a core. I frowned. Outside of rural Ohio, metal detectors probably kept teachers from carrying knives, let alone brandishing them as cutlery. Snack gone, he used the knife to clean under his fingernails. I gagged.

  I leaned across my desk toward Liam. “Can you believe Kirk got out of this?”

  He turned a page in his notebook, making swift marks with his pen. One long arm lay over the desk between my eyes and his paper.

  “Were your parents mad?”

  His pen crawled to a stop. “No.” His solemn expression turned to frustration. He sat motionless for a long beat.

  I waited with rapt attention as he chose the right words for whatever was on his mind. When he started writing again, I huffed.

  I pulled Haunted Ohio from my bag and opened to the table of contents.

  “Was your mom mad?” he asked.

  Surprise jolted through me. I steadied my nerves a moment before I responded. Being near Liam put me on edge in a strangely exciting way.

  “A little.”

  “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble,” he mumbled.

  “You didn’t. She’s mad Principal Mansfield punished me. She’s big on taking responsibility for our actions, and she’s a dedicated feminist. Fighting over a girl is a hot button. Blaming the girl is like throwing gas on a fire.” I stopped. “Not that you were fighting over me.” I looked away, wishing for a rewind button.

  “It was nice to be someone’s protector for a change.”

  I didn’t look up when he spoke. He had been fighting over me. He’d admitted it, but what did he mean about being a protector for a change? As opposed to what? He seemed awfully, er large, to need a defender.

  Liam’s voice was soft, almost inaudible. “I meant what I said about being friends.”

  I struggled to put the syllables together. Friends? “I’d like that.” Very much. Too much. I smiled, looking his way again.

  “You probably haven’t noticed, but I’m not always very sociable.” Liam squinted as he spoke, giving his chiseled face an awkward edge.

  I mocked shock, shaping a little “o” with my lips and placing a palm over my chest. “No.”

  His cheek lifted slightly into a perfect crooked smile. “It’s true.”

  “Brand new information.” I gaspe
d, drawing the shop teacher’s eyebrows into a warning frown. I leaned over my desk and pretended to read. When the teacher went back to cleaning his nails, I lowered my voice and turned to Liam.

  “Where’d you learn to hit like that?”

  He smiled, slowly turning his eyes on me. “I’m a boxer and I fence. Long arms come in handy, given the right occupation.”

  I remembered his long, steady strokes in the pool and checked the clock. Twenty more minutes until we were back in the water. I wanted Liam’s friendship almost as much as I wanted to be his friend. Swimming posed a great opportunity for both.

  Images of his strong arms wrapping me in an embrace replaced images of his fierce freestyle. I shut my eyes, thankful he couldn’t know my thoughts. What was going on with me? When I dared a look in his direction, he glanced away. He read for the rest of our detention and I laid my head on the desk, redirecting my thoughts. Liam was an enigma and I was hooked on the intrigue. One minute he built a wall around himself, warning people away, and the next he wanted a friend. Why me?

  When detention ended, he didn’t move.

  I arranged things unnecessarily in my book bag, stalling for time. “Are you swimming today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. See ya.” I smiled, satisfied, and hurried to change.

  The thrill of anticipation grew to combustion levels when I entered the pool area. I spoke with Coach, explaining about detention, then dove in and swam four laps before my mind got the best of me. My senses were on high alert. The smallest sound broke my concentration. My head popped up a dozen times, expecting Liam’s arrival.

  An hour later, disappointment flattened me. Time to go home.

  Coach didn’t bother telling me how bad my times were, and I didn’t ask. My head wasn’t in it. I’d fumbled every turn, missing the firm plant of my feet against the pool wall, shoving awkwardly and gliding slowly into each lap.

  He clapped my shoulder as I toweled off. “Shake it off, Ingram. Everyone has a crap day sometime.”