Harkham's Case (Harkam's #1) (5 page)

A loud breath hit her a moment later. She pivoted around, and there was Adam, looking completely lost and miserable.

“Adam . . .” She reached out and stroked his cheek with the back of her hand. “I don’t abandon my friends—and
you
are my friend. Trust me. Get your lunch. We’ll sit together. Go now.” She shooed her hand at him a little. “You can do this.” She smiled once more, and he reciprocated with a frightened, but genuine smile as well. He angled the lower half of his body away from her. “Go.”

Was she scaring him? He seemed torn with the way his body was all twisted in half.

“Sam says I need friends, and it’s okay to trust them.”

“Samara is as smart as she is pretty.”

He stepped back. “You think another girl is pretty? Are you homosexual?”

She laughed. “Not the last time I checked. But I can admit when another person of the same sex is attractive without it meaning I want to . . . Never mind.” She cut herself off because his whole face scrunched in confusion. “It’s not a big deal. I’ll meet you at the table in five minutes.” She shooed him away again with her hand.

“I’ll be counting the seconds,” he said.

If she was smart, she’d know that statement was a fact and be more than a little concerned. It wasn’t said as a type of rhetorical musing on his part. He was pretty confident she was going to be his girlfriend in the near future. What was she supposed to do about that?

What
could
she do? So far, he was an unstoppable force.

And for some reason, she was drawn to him and wasn’t even sure if she wanted to talk some sense into him. That was the craziest thought of all, so she hustled to get her food before she let her imagination run wild. There were things she needed to take care of before he was at her side again.

When she sat down, he wasn’t nearby. She sighed with relief as she slipped her homemade salad dressing from her bag and added a little bit of chicken to her dish that she’d brought from home. The chunks were pushed down to the bottom of her bowl so he wouldn’t see them and make a fuss about it, which would result in asked questions she was uncomfortable answering.

She wiggled her hips into her seat, forcing herself to relax and get comfortable. He was a prying sort of guy—that much was clear. But if she was careful, she could avoid certain things like this so they could continue to get along.

Normally, she would have already started eating as she waited for one of her few friends, Katie, to join her. But today, it seemed wise to wait for him. No telling how he’d react if she began without him.

He might spout off new equations that related on how to break the sound barrier. And knowing him, he would be louder in this room that carried acoustics than he would have been able to if he had total control of the PA system.

Adam sat down next to her with one swift move and grappled her hand back into his.

This time he had her right hand, so she would have to eat left-handed.

Oh well. It was fine—if it kept him happy and at ease, then she’d do it without insisting he give her the freedom she needed to do what
she
was comfortable with.

He began eating with zeal. Mexican food must have been one of his favorites, because he was demolishing his taco salad with frightening speed.

“I thought you didn’t like healthy food?” She motioned her fork at the taco salad. “I’m seeing some green stuff on your plate.” She smirked.

“I ignore the plant stuff. It’s the other goodness I like.” He dug out another massive forkful and shoved it in his mouth.

“I like Mexican food, too. I love tamales. It’s hard to find decent ones, even though we live in Phoenix. You’d think it’d be easy to come by.”

He only nodded and kept eating.

Okay, so maybe right about now would be a good time to relish the silence, since most of the time he did the talking.

She snorted and bit back a laugh. He definitely had made this school day extremely interesting.

Her salad was good, but his food smelled delicious.

Fatty, unhealthy food
, she had to tell her mind repeatedly, so she wouldn’t be tempted to go get her own bowl.

Damn. She really loved those greasy taco salads with the flour tortilla bowl shaped-shell, but she knew what it would do to her.

“Hiya,” Katie said and joined them at their table. Her blonde ponytail swayed when she sat.

“Hi,” Mari answered. “Katie, this is Adam. He’s a new student here. This is his first day.”

“Ah . . . A little bit of a late start?” Katie smiled. “The first week of school is useless anyway, so it was probably better to skip it.”

“I don’t think it’s better, but it was necessary,” he answered.

Katie’s lips parted like she wanted to say something, but instead, she took a bite of her burger.

“He’s got a few classes with me,” Mari told her. “I’m showing him around a little bit.”

Katie’s eyes caught on Mari’s disappearing hand under Adam’s arm.

“You smuggling somethin’ under there?” Katie chuckled.

“Yeah—you know me . . . I’m a regular smuggler of all kinds of goodies.” Mari’s left brow lifted.

“Like what?” Adam licked his bottom lip clean, then waited for her reply.

“Well, uh . . . Like chocolate. I always choose to hide my chocolate under men’s arms. It won’t melt because I know the right melting point.”

“It’s eighty-six degrees to melt chocolate. You have to do it slowly so it won’t scorch. And the average temperature under a person’s arm is of course, ninety-eight point six, so I don’t see how you can keep it from melti—”

“I was only kidding.” Mari gave him a gentle, teasing grin.

“Oh, yeah. That makes sense. Sorry, I . . .” He shook his head and went back to eating.

Katie gave him an interesting look with her lips pursed, and her brown eyes lit up in amusement.

Adam ignored Katie and continued to eat like he could never get enough food in his gut. Probably a defense mechanism when he was feeling a little off.

Katie eyed the disappearance of Mari’s hand under Adam’s arm once more.

“Don’t ask,” Mari mouthed the words to her friend.

“So, how was English today? Mine was a bitch! Our teacher’s making us study
Hamlet
. I hate that story!” Katie said. “It’s so confusing, not to mention depressing as hell.”

“Hamlet’s a metaphor for any age. It’s told with brilliance. If you don’t get Hamlet and Ophelia’s plight, then you really don’t get the way this world works,” Adam said with a matter-of-fact tone.

Katie chuckled and relaxed into her chair. “Yeah, that’s what my dad says, too. Sounds like you two are drinking the same water.”

“Does he have an RO system rigged into the sink in your kitchen? That’s what my dad installed in our house, and I’m only allowed to drink that. He won’t let me drink soda, and it’s not really fair since Sam and Zach drink it all the time.”

Katie blinked, and her mouth popped open slightly. “Bummer.”

Mari took a deep breath and changed the subject. “Adam’s a math whiz. Anytime we need help with our calculus studies, I’m sure he’d be happy to tutor us.” She really had no idea if this was true or not, but it seemed a logical assumption since he liked to ramble numbers when he was agitated.

She nudged his arm, hinting he should agree.

He was oblivious and kept eating.

“Or if I need him to bake me chocolate desserts, he’s my man,” Katie said softly.

Mari should have found that funny, but the idea of Adam being in another teenaged girl’s home, even if it was as innocuous as a kitchen, made her jaw tense and her chest heat up. Didn’t seem to matter that Katie wore glasses, had a slight overbite, a long, beak-like nose and thin, dish-water blonde hair that always appeared slightly wispy. It still bothered Mari to think Katie might be interested in him. It was best Mari keep quiet on the subject. And maybe best she kept her thoughts clear of him as much as possible.

This boy was gonna be the reason she had a breakdown before the end of the school day. She just knew it. Her stomach was clenched in knots.

“I like math,” he muttered with the fork passing over his lips again.

“Sounds great. I always need help with it. I’m determined to pass it so I can get the college credit for it,” Katie said.

“Who’s the hottie?” a female voice traveled from behind Mari. “It’s time for an introduction.”

Oh God, no . . .

Mari glanced over her shoulder and went for nonchalance, but failed miserably. “Oh, hi, Kendra,” she said through gnashing teeth.

Those three damned buttons were still undone on Kendra’s shirt, and her breasts looked larger than ever.

Perfect way to spend Kendra’s lunch—with a fork sticking out of each stupid, bouncy tit.

She didn’t need them for a basic high school education anyway. Or so Mari had been told more than once about her B cups.

Chapter 3

Kendra and her distracting, jiggling tits joined them at their table. And that was unusual for her. Well, not the jiggling boobs part. The big tits were always there, they just hadn’t been quite that noticeable or upsetting to Mari before.

Usually Kendra sat with Rory and his dough-head jock friends. Mari was only worth talking to when Kendra was trying to cheat off her homework.

Mari’s entire insides tightened worse when she saw the way Kendra was leering at him from across the table.

“So, is anybody going to tell me who the hottie is? I saw him before anyone else did when he walked into Calc.” Kendra smirked. “Anyone have a tongue? Or have you all joined a monastery that requires a vow of silence?” She continued to wear a smug smile. “It’s
my
job to know
everyone
in this school.”

No, Kendra . . . It’s your job to
fuck
everyone with a functioning
dick
in this school.
Mari fought off a scowl and bit her tongue to keep from saying something nasty.
Truthful
, but nasty all the same.

“Her name’s Mari. And I think she’s hot, too,” Adam answered. “No one here is silent. You’re just being impatient for them to reply. Maybe it would be a good idea to let people think before they respond. That might make it easier for you to do your job well.”

“Well, fuck. The hottie just went Martha Stewart on my ass.” Kendra laughed and looked around the table.

“I told you, her name’s Mari, not Martha Stewart,” Adam said, giving Kendra a penetrating look.

Mari hiccuped a laugh. “She was talking about you.”

“I thought you said girls could think other people of the same sex are attractive. Isn’t that what she’s doing—observing how pretty you are?” He blinked twice and then peered deep in Mari’s eyes like he was searching for answers that eluded him.

“Ken knows who I am. We’ve known each other for years. You’re the new one here. And yes, she can think another girl is pretty, but that’s not what she was doing. She wanted to know who
you
are.” Mari scratched her chin on her shoulder since he still had her hand soldered to his ribs. “Adam, this is Kendra. Ken, this is Adam.” She turned back to her lunch.

“Well, which is it?” he asked.

“Which is what?” Kendra’s brow crinkled.

“Your name. Is it Kendra or Ken? And isn’t Ken a masculine name? I always thought it was supposed to be for boys, not girls. Were your parents confused? Or did they name you before they knew your gender?” He sniffed. “I want to know so when I address you, I get it right. I don’t need you to identify your sex. It’s easy to see you’re a girl.” He glanced at her breasts but looked unimpressed at their size and generally bouncy, pert qualities. “I don’t like being embarrassed in social situations.”

Kendra’s spine stiffened in her seat, and she leaned back a little as a V in her brow deepened. Her eyebrows almost looked Vulcan. “Are you for real? Nobody talks like this.”

“Like what? With manners and using correct grammar? Just because I’m playing at being a teenager doesn’t mean I should slaughter the English language,” he replied. “If you’re into Martha Stewart, then I would think you’d know more about this type of thing. She talks fairly proper, but then she’s pretty old, so maybe that’s required. Plus, she had a show and has magazines and stuff. You don’t have any of that.”

“I have a Facebook page for my manicures I do out of my home,” Kendra said, grinning.

“That’s a good start, but it doesn’t require you to talk professionally, because I’ll bet you only do it for your peers. They don’t like proper language. It makes them feel funny.” He sniffed once more.

Was he allergic to something in his food?

Mari studied his face to see if there were any other reactions that were off.

“Fuck me if you aren’t the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Kendra pointed a manicured nail at him.

Bright pink—as usual.

Mari wanted to gag and roll her eyes. Instead, she coughed and went back to poking at the remains of her salad.