Infinite Risk (11 page)

“Sorry, but you can't complicate my situation. You're supposed to be a spectator.”

“How am I interfering?” he asked softly.

“Forget butterfly wings causing a hurricane; you're a tsunami of nope. You just being here will screw things up.”

“How can you be sure? Maybe you need chaos on my level.”

“We're not going to the party,” I said. “And that violin—”

“Is not a prop.”

“What?” Caught off guard, I stared while he opened the case, withdrew a burnished instrument, and played a few gorgeous bars. His music tore through me like an anguished, exquisite cry. My breath went. “Wow.”

Satisfied with this response, the Harbinger put it away. “You underestimate me. I learned to play in Dublin, a long time ago. I was pretending to be human then too, and there was a red-haired girl, various misfortunes, and a dingy pub. It ended badly, of course,” he added with a flinty kind of tenderness. “Sometimes I still like to go out and play. It amuses me to seduce a few coins from people I could drink like a cup of tea.”

“That's a terrifying metaphor.”

The Harbinger snapped the case shut without looking at me. He obviously didn't want to talk about taverns or red-haired girls; I remembered the shawl and gown he'd let me borrow before and wondered about all the sad stories he'd wandered through alone, set on his course by our tales, and then abandoned. It was hard to feel nothing for him. Hesitantly, I put out my hand but he stepped away as if acid coated my fingers. An unexpected chill seeped into my bones despite my hat and scarf.

“Where shall I deliver you?”

“To the corner store near my house.”

He asked no questions, only beckoned for me to follow. I had the incredible impression that I'd wounded him somehow by being agitated by his arrival.
No, that's crazy.
Hard-pressed to keep up, the Harbinger rounded a corner ahead of me. I stepped over a slick patch on the cracked sidewalk, and he grabbed my wrist. The world whooshed away, and we reappeared in an alley near the Baltimore.

“Close enough?”

I nodded. “Thanks. And look, I'm—”

“You have your business to tend and I've mine.” With that, he was gone.

Sighing, I made my way to the store, pausing to wipe my feet so the bell jingled nonstop. José glanced up with a crisp snap of his newspaper. “Ah, you're back?”

I nodded. “If the offer's still open, I'm here to work.”

 

A PENCHANT FOR INNOCENT EYES

I worked at the bodega twice more, enough to keep me in noodles, bread, and yogurt for the week. José and Luisa were nice people, and by Wednesday, she was sending me home with a plastic container of tamales. I devoured them for dinner that night, and they were pretty much the most delicious thing I'd tasted since I made the leap. For some reason, sweets didn't have the same savor these days.

On Thursday, I talked Kian into sitting with Devon and his group, overriding his protests that it would be awkward. For the first ten minutes, it was, and Devon glared at me over trays of macaroni and processed cheese. Kian stared hard at his food and didn't talk to anyone, so I considered conversational first aid and hoped someone at the table liked classic movies.

“So who's seen
Casablanca
?” I asked, during the next lull.

Five out of six shrugged and shook their heads, but Vonna said, “It's pretty fantastic.”

Score.

Devon mentioned her the other day.
She was short and a little chubby with brown skin and hair in braids. I could've hugged her, but that would have been weird. I made sure to mention we'd watched it last weekend at the Marquee, then added my two cents in evaluation, hoping to lure Kian into the discussion. That spurred some interest from the rest of the group, and soon Kian was fielding questions about the place. At first, he spoke so softly that people had lean in to hear, but I could tell the minute he realized they were honestly curious.

“Have you always liked classics?” Vonna asked eventually.

“Pretty much as long as I can remember. And, yeah, I know it's gross nostalgia and that history isn't the way those movies make it seem—”

“Some things you have to appreciate apart from the ugliness,” she said, eyes glinting. “I mean, Hollywood is still a hot mess for people of color, and back then…”

“Exactly.” Kian was nodding, and they went into a deeper discussion of progress that still needed to be made in the movie industry.

The rest of the table seemed pretty shocked, but I couldn't stop grinning.
Yeah, he's smart. He's articulate. He's got ideas worth hearing.

Fifteen minutes later, Vonna was saying, “I'd like to direct someday, but damn, I might as well decide to be an astronaut with the glass ceiling so firmly in place.”

When the bell rang, everyone seemed startled, including Kian. His gaze met mine, and I could just about hear him saying,
Holy shit, that went a lot better than I expected.
As I passed him, heading for the hallway, I bumped my shoulder against his.

“Hold up,” Vonna called. “What's your number? I can't geek out with just anyone about old movies.”

Eyes wide, Kian stopped, and I whispered, “Give it to her.”

Devon caught up with me as the others filed out of the cafeteria. “Hey, Nine, wait. I owe you an apology.”

“Why?”

“Because I was wrong about you. My mom works really hard to keep us fed, and I want to face punch anyone who judges how she does it.”

“I like HOS,” I said, tugging at my Who shirt. “I'm wearing something I bought there.”

He sighed. “I know. My mom saves the best stuff she gets in my size, but I worry if it comes from somebody here and if some asshole like Wade is gonna yell, ‘Hey, Devon, nice sweater, gave it away last week,' and then I'll be the secondhand kid for life.”

“Understood. People care so much about image at this stage. It'll be nice to leave that, though I guess some folks never get past it.”

“There's something odd about you,” he said, thoughtful.

“You're just noticing? I'll take it as a compliment.”

He smiled then. “I also need to say sorry for what we said about Kian before. Seems like he's just shy, huh?”

“Basically. I'm glad you didn't make a big thing when I brought him with me. I mean, you
did
invite me to have lunch with you guys and all.”

“Heh, he was all but kicking and screaming when you two sat down. But once he loosens up, he's okay.”

“And now we're on the same page. I'll be happy to one-plus-one into your group now, assuming that's still on offer.”

“You make it sound like we have limited memberships.”

“Well, the tables only seat eight,” I pointed out.

“True. Makes you wonder how the A-listers decide who are the shiniest that week.”

I snickered because I
had
noticed that there were upper- and lower-class royalty, two neighboring tables, in the center of the cafeteria, but while four seats were set, the others seemed to rotate depending on who was in favor with the core group. It was like getting voted off the island on
Survivor
or something, the way people vied for seats at those tables.

“Maybe it's sports-related. High scorer?”

“They also ostracize breakups. Like if a couple splits, one stays and the other goes. No idea how they decide who to keep, though.”

“To be honest, I don't care,” I said, smiling.

“Me either. I'm this way. Talk to you later.” With a wave, Devon went down a different hallway, leaving me to collect stuff from my locker and dash to class.

Jake Overman fell into step with me halfway there. “Given any more thought to my party? I hear Lara met your boyfriend on Monday.”

Raising a brow, I asked, “Why is that worth mentioning?”

“Apparently he was hot like whoa and damn.”

“Are you repeating her, or is that
your
opinion?” I smirked.

Jake laughed, which made me like him a little more. While looks might fade, a sense of humor lasted a lifetime. “Sadly no,
I
haven't seen him. But I could quote more from her if hearing your man praised is good for your self-esteem.”

“Nah, it's not a big deal.”

“That's a weird attitude for a girlfriend,” he noted.

“Why? If he's hot, it's nothing to do with me. Same with talent.”

“But per Lara, someone that awesome chose you, right?”

“Maybe
I'm
that amazing and he's lucky I chose him.”

“Maybe so,” he murmured.

Ignoring that, I marched into class, only to be deflated when Jake followed me and sat down near the front of the room.

Huh, I never noticed he's in here too.
Not surprising, since when I first arrived I only had Kian on my radar. But now that the mission had evolved, I had to take other people into consideration. Maybe I should test how far Jake's goodwill extended.

Since he was waiting for me after class, it didn't take long. “About your party…”

“Change your mind?”

“Not sure yet. Can I bring some people?”

“That Kian kid?” he guessed.

“Yeah, and a few others.”

“You haven't even been here that long, how many people do you know?”

“Well, you and Tanya, Lara, Kian, Devon Quick's group…”

His brows shot up. “You want to invite all of them? It's not even your party.”

“Good thing too. I'd make everyone drink Kool-Aid because it's cheap, and force them to do geometry to figure out the trajectory of various astronomical objects.”

That startled another laugh out of him. “I have no idea if you're screwing with me right now, but I'm kind of into it. Tell me why you want to invite so many people, and I'll consider it.”

“Because I'm opposed to systemic elitism,” I said simply. “Logistically speaking, I know you can't invite the whole school to rock out at your place. The cost alone…” I shrugged. “But I've made some friends here and I don't want to go where they're not welcome.”

“Not even if it means other invitations, more parties…?”

“I don't care about that. I won't be here long enough for it to matter.”

That snagged his attention hard, enough that he stopped walking and a short kid plowed into his back. With a mumbled “sorry,” the boy scuttled past, but Jake wasn't looking at him. “Are you … dying or something?”

“Heh, no. Do you have a secret addiction to Lifetime movies?” That existed, right?

“Guilty as charged. I love to watch them and cry.”

“Now it's my turn not to be sure if you're messing with me. But it's a good flip.”

Jake licked one fingertip and etched a hash mark into the air. “One point for me. Anyway, it's fine if you want to invite people. I can't guarantee everyone will get a warm welcome, though they won't get shit from
me
.”

That was about as generous as I could expect him to be, considering he was talking about his own friends. Sometimes you liked people even knowing they could be assholes to everyone else or maybe there were childhood bonds or secret pacts, whatever. I understood where he was coming from anyway. Turning, I spied Tanya watching us, but she didn't have the possessive vibe from the other day. Which likely meant Lara had regaled her with tales of Colin's excruciating hotness.

“Hey,” she said brightly.

The greeting clearly included both of us, and I saw why Kian had spent his junior high years silently pining for her. Her eyes were this amazing hazel, gold when the light hit just right, and her hair, as I'd admired before, fell in tawny, sun-streaked waves. Her skin was gorgeous, flawless, lightly tinged with gold. When she stepped into the sunlight,
I
was kind of attracted to her; she had a radiance that made you want to step closer. In some ways, she reminded me of Allison Vega, but I detected no malice in Tanya, at least no more than usual in a human.

It's so weird that I have to make that distinction.

“'Sup.” After I said it, I regretted it, but maybe I could blame California if anyone gave me a weird look.

“I didn't know you two had class together,” she went on.

“Me either. I'm usually asleep.” That wasn't too far from the truth.

“Yet the teacher never catches you. You have to teach me that trick,” Jake said.

“Me too.” Tanya took Jake's hand, and he bent down to kiss her forehead. They were actually kind of sweet together, which made me feel sorry for Kian.

It also reassured me that while our conversation had been kind of flirty, Jake didn't necessarily mean for it to go anywhere. Since I had so little romantic mojo, sometimes I thought nothing was something and something was nothing. In this scenario, I was willing to ruin Tanya's relationship if it would help, but I didn't want Jake to be easily distracted. He seemed like such a decent guy that I'd be disappointed to learn otherwise.

“Well, Colin is probably waiting,” I said, mostly as an excuse to get going.

But it backfired spectacularly.

“Would it be super weird if I went with you?” Tanya asked.

“Excuse me?” I stared at her, wondering how that request sounded okay in her head.

“I'm right here,” Jake pointed out.

Tanya waved him off. “Go to practice. I'll text you later.”

“Fine.” He sighed, but lifted a hand and jogged toward the gym, evidently well-versed in her eccentricities.

Once Jake was gone, she continued. “Lara made such a huge deal about your man candy that I want to verify. She made it sound like Justin Timberlake was here or something.”

“I have no idea how to feel about this. It
is
super weird. If you decide that her hyperbole was justified, do I get a prize?” But I didn't try to stop her from accompanying me.