Cassidy Jones and the Secret Formula (20 page)

~~~

In first period, the intense gawking ceased once I introduced Emery to the teacher and we took a seat. Not that eyes didn’t continually wander towards him, taking in his attire, the glasses, and the bright red visitor’s badge he wore. Amazingly, Emery was quite unruffled. Cool-headed, he would meet the gawker’s gaze and slightly smile, causing the gawker to quickly look away.

I wasn’t quite as cool-headed.

A couple of Nate’s friends, obviously privy to the sports field gossip, continually eyed Emery and me. To hide my nonstop blushing, I placed my elbows on the desk and leaned forward, cupping my face between my palms. Worse than the embarrassment was the anger seeping through my body, like a slow, deadly poison. I felt an aggression toward both boys that truly frightened me, as if there was a feral beast in me waiting for an opportunity to tear loose.

When the bell rang, I uncupped my cheeks and breathed a sigh of relief. The relief didn’t last long. Next period would be the real challenge for Emery and me. Though a junior, Dixon was in that class. Not only was he in my biology class, our seats were also assigned at the same table, which I suspected wasn’t a fluke, because Miriam and Rodrigo were our other tablemates. I was convinced Mr. Levy, our teacher, was evil.

However, I must admit that Mr. Levy’s discipline techniques, which consisted of massive detentions and humiliation, had worked wonders with Dixon. Every day now, Dixon walked scowling into the room, sat in his chair, crossed his arms over his chest, and kept his mouth shut until the period’s dismissal bell rang. He wasn’t usually so pleasant.

After introducing Emery to Mr. Levy, I led him to our table. So far, Miriam was the only occupant.

“Hi, Emery,” she greeted as we sat down. “How are things going so far?”

“Fine, so far,” Emery answered pleasantly, sitting next to me.

Turning to me, her bright eyes danced. “I’m going to bring my cousin, Lexy, to school when she visits,” she announced.

I laughed, louder than I normally would. “Miriam, this is only happening because my mom made it happen. You can’t normally just bring someone to school.”

She smiled confidently. “I bet you ten bucks she’ll be sitting riiiiight—” she reached around me, patting Emery’s shoulder “—there in about three weeks.”

“No bets.” I felt Emery’s gaze on my face. “I have no doubt you’ll—” I stopped short, getting a whiff of someone I knew had to be Dixon. Only Dixon would smell that foul, like something gone sour. My eyes shot up to the door, catching Dixon’s hostile gaze.

“What are you looking at, Jones?”

My insides and fingers curled. “Hey, Dixon.”

Ignoring me, he plopped heavily in his chair. “Take a picture, butthead,” he snarled at Emery. “It’ll last longer.”

Emery calmly regarded him.

Dropping in the chair next to Dixon, Rodrigo smiled mockingly.

“Be  nice,”  Miriam  warned,  dragging  out  the 
s
sound. 

Dixon’s menacing eyes shifted to her.

Watching Dixon, Emery’s eyes sharpened in his composed face.

My muscles tightened.

Leaning back in the chair, Dixon crossed his arms over his broad chest. Glaring across the table at Emery, he demanded, “What’s your name?”

“Emery. What’s yours?”

This threw Dixon for a moment. Scrambling for a new tactic, his eyes settled on the monogram.

“What does the P stand for?”

“Phillips.”

“What about the M?”

“Mendel.”

Dixon smirked. “What did you say? Mental?”

Rodrigo snickered.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

Emery’s expression was unperturbed. “No. Mendel. As in Gregor Mendel.”

“Who’s that?” Dixon spat.

“He was the first geneticist.”

I was shocked that Emery answered the question honestly.
Give me some
help
here
, I sent him, anger warming my gut.
Don’t stir the pot
.

Dixon stared at Emery in disgust. “You
look
like you’d be named after some geek.” Then his lips turned up in a caustic, challenging smile. “‘Mental’ fits you better.”

Under the table, I dug my fingernails into my palms.
Deep breaths, deep breaths
.

“You’re mental,” Miriam jumped in, smiling at Dixon.

Oh, crud
.

His eyes shot over to her. “Shut up, Big Mouth.”

Keep it together. Breathe
.

“Brilliant, Dixon,
as usual
,” Miriam taunted.

Uncrossing his arms, he leaned toward her. “Someone needs to shut you up,” he said slowly, between his teeth.

My spine stiffened. My hands clenched. I
so
wanted to hurt him.
Breathe!
Breathe! Breathe!

Miriam’s smile recklessly broadened. “Brilliant
and
a charmer. You’re the full package, Dixon.”

Hatred filled Dixon’s eyes.

Next to me, Emery tensed, preparing to intervene.

Breathe!
I sucked in a long breath. My lungs expanded like balloons.

The bell rang for class to start.

On cue, Dixon sank back into his chair. Crossing his arms over his chest, he pressed his lips into a tight line while he glared at Miriam.

I slowly released the breath, feeling fury blow out with the hot air.
I did it
, I thought triumphantly.
I reigned in the beast, and no one is the wiser
. My internal battle had gone unnoticed.

Relaxing in my chair, I watched Dixon’s hands clench and unclench, his eyes latched on Miriam. Dixon had no intention of reigning in his beast.

Thirteen

As soon as the dismissal bell rang, Dixon rose from his chair and headed out. Rodrigo was at his heels. At the door, Dixon shot Miriam a chilling look that said,
Later.
Collecting her things, Miriam took no notice.

Leaving the classroom, Miriam streamed one way down the hall while Emery and I streamed the other, heading to my third period class.

“Sorry about that,” I said to him. “Dixon is a total jerk.”

“Dixon is a classic bully, and your friend, Miriam, is rash. She’s a train wreck waiting to happen.”

Stopping dead in my tracks, I felt as if Emery had delivered a kick to my stomach. I knew my reaction was extreme, but his words had triggered a heart-clenching trepidation in me. Perhaps because I knew they were true.

“Did I offend you?” he asked, studying my face.

Feeling a deep sorrow, I shook my head and began walking.

Emery grabbed my arm. “Not so fast,” he said, pulling me to the side.

Standing next to a bank of lockers, I looked at passing faces, avoiding his.

“Cassidy, please look at me.”

Reluctantly, my eyes shifted up, meeting his steady gaze.

“I’m not here for the educational experience,” he reminded me. “I’m here to support you in any way I possibly can. In order to do that, you have to tell me when you’re struggling.”

“Well, isn’t it obvious?”

He smiled. “Aside from the occasional blush and tears, you’re a difficult person for me to read.”

I was shocked. “I’m like an open book.”

“You may feel that you are, but you keep your expressions very controlled, which I find astounding with all the emotions I know you must be experiencing. Don’t get me wrong, though. I’m relieved you have this skill. You need to create a veneer for all of
them
.” His eyes gestured to passersby. “However, with me, you must be completely honest.”

“So, you’re saying I have a poker face,” I interpreted in disbelief.

“A very good one. Please, tell me anything I’ve missed.”

I shared my battle with “the beast.” He listened attentively, his own facial expressions difficult to decipher. I wondered if Emery knew he had a good poker face, too. Something told me he did, having carefully crafted it.

After I finished talking, he frowned slightly. “I’ll learn to read you better,” he promised himself more than me. “I’ll need to.”

Before I could ask him what he meant, his cell phone vibrated in his pants pocket. Quickly retrieving it, he looked down at the screen and pressed a button on the keypad. A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. “Heart has left her apartment. I have to go,” he said, looking up at me. “I need to get my backpack and jacket. Your locker combination is 9-32-11?”

“Yeah. I think,” I answered, confused. “I don’t understand. What are you going to do?”

He watched the GPS. “Search her apartment.”

“Wha—how? Alone?”

“Yes, alone.” He glanced down the nearly empty hall. “The final bell will ring soon.” He consulted his wristwatch. “Fifty-eight seconds, to be exact. You had better go to class.”

“What about Mickey?” I proposed anxiously. “Couldn’t he do it instead?”

Emery’s eyes were back on the GPS. “It’s
my
mom. The dirty work is up to me.” His gaze flicked to his wristwatch. “Forty-seven seconds.”

“Oh, how do you even know when the bell rings?” I asked in exasperation, overwhelmed with the idea of Emery playing Lone Ranger.

“I pay attention,” he replied, eyes on his watch. “Forty-two seconds.”

“I don’t care!” I put my hand over the watch face, resolved. “I’m going with you.”

He regarded me quietly.

I went on, as though we were in a heated argument. “Nuh-uh. I’m not being left behind again. I’m not! We’re in this together. A team. Partners. Remember? Comrades.”

Emery put his hand up. “All right,
compañera
. What are the repercussions if you don’t show up for class?”

“Oh,” I said, thrown off. I’d expected him to put up more of a fight. I pondered his question briefly. It wasn’t like I knew. I had never skipped class before. “Okay, I’m pretty sure worst case is the office calls my mom. If they do, I’ll tell her you were having a hard time, you know, about your mom, so we decided not to go to class.”

“It isn’t a complete fabrication. I am having a difficult time,” he admitted, glancing at the Droid. He frowned. “Her car just stopped. She’s about half a mile from her apartment. There isn’t time to weigh out pros and cons. If you’re decided, let’s go.”

The bell rang.

At my locker, Emery exchanged his laptop bag for his backpack and snapped up his jacket and my hoodie. “Keep the hood on and your hair tucked in,” he instructed, handing me the hoodie. “The color is too distinct.”