Madly and Wolfhardt (7 page)

I turned and made a hasty exit, practically running Jersey over.  She was just coming back from the showers.

“Where’s the fire?” she teased, running her fingers through her glossy wet hair.

I gave her a cursory smile and set about gathering what I’d need for my shower.  Jersey, however, was never one to let something go until she was completely satisfied that she had all the information.  She was nosey to a fault and had to know everybody else’s business.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, leaning up against the dresser that I was rifling through as she brushed tangles out of her hair.

“Nothing.”

“Ma-dly,” she said warningly.

“Nothing.  Really,” I repeated without looking up.  I was afraid she’d see the tears that were dying to be shed.

“Oh, sure.  Like I would believe that.  Like I haven’t known you since the womb.”

I rolled my eyes to Jersey. 

“You
haven’t
known me since the womb.”

“That’s what you think,” she muttered.  “I was on your mind even then.  You knew that pure awesomeness was being brewed in the belly right down the street.”

I had to smile at that.

“I’ve got to hurry or I’ll be late,” I said dismissively.

“Alright, fine.  Clam up.  You forget who you’re dealing with,” she cautioned.  Then, in her best Ivan Drago voice, she advised me, “I must break you.”

I just shook my head and took off for the shower.  I could tell that there was just no pulling myself out of my mood this morning, with or without Jersey’s humor.

When I got back to our room, the first thing I saw when I walked in was a chipped cement duck sitting in the center of my bed.

“Surprise!” Jersey said, jumping out from behind the door.

“What is it?”

“It’s a duck,” she replied, looking at me as though I’d lost my mind.

“I know it’s a duck, but what’s it for?  Why is it on my bed?”

“Because you love ducks,” she explained, walking over to lovingly stroke its head.

“I do, but isn’t that the duck that sits in the flowerbed beside the door outside?”

“So what if it is?”

“Well, although I do love ducks, I really prefer them to be of the non-stolen variety.  You know, the type you don’t go to jail for being caught with.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.  I’m not going to see Bubba.”  That was Jersey’s euphemism for human imprisonment—going to see Bubba.  Jersey watched way too many movies.

“Plus, he’s getting my bed dirty.  Look at his feet.  He’s filthy!”

Jersey covered its non-existent ears. 

“Stop talking about him like that,” she whispered.  “He’s not dirty.  He’s just had a rough year.  Besides, he’s here to cheer you up.”

“How?  By making muddy footprints on my sheets?”

“Although he is particularly good at that, he’s a great listener.  He never interrupts when you’re talking, he never rolls his eyes or walks away and he can keep, like, the best secrets
ever! 
Plus, he’ll keep you company and he doesn’t burp.”

It occurred to me then that Jersey might feel like I was hiding something from her for one of those reasons.

“Why would I need a duck for any of those things when I have a best friend?”

Jersey stuck out her lip and looked up at me with big, pitiful eyes. 

“Really?”

I smiled.

“Well, except for the burpless great listener who never interrupts, rolls his eyes, walks away or tells my secrets part.  Other than that, you two are practically twins.”

“Ha. Ha,” she said snidely and then added more seriously, “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

I nodded. 

Jersey searched my face, waiting for me to take her up on her offer, but still I couldn’t bring myself to share with her my feelings about her brother.

“Alright, well, we’re here if you need us,” she declared, picking up the duck and placing him on an empty corner of my dresser.

“What should we name him?”

“How about Cee-lo?”

“How about Madonna?”

“He’s a he!” Jersey reminded me in mild outrage.

“Sting?”

“Maybe he needs something more formal.  Yeah, because he’s such a gentleman.  How about Sir Duckus Cementus Hamilton the third,” she said in her best British accent.

I nodded.  “Call him Ducky for short?”

“Of course.”

Somehow, Jersey had managed to put a smile on my face in spite of my funk.  By the time I got to school, I was actually working my way out from under the dark cloud of my mood. 

I was nearing the point of feeling that the day was not a total loss when things took a sudden turn for the worse.  Aken found Jersey within minutes of our arrival at Building A and then Kellina arrived, casting a spell on Aidan’s face almost immediately.  Between Jersey’s gushing excitement and wild flirtation and Aidan’s permanent stupid grin, the delicate new growth of my good mood was promptly trampled into a gelatinous pulp. 

I found myself in the unhappy position of fifth wheel, which only served to underscore my romantic woes.  Berlin hadn’t even accompanied Aken to give me an ego boost. 

How dare he?
I thought waspishly.

After a few seconds, however, I realized what a remarkably selfish attitude that was, and my nastiness evaporated.  Expecting the poor guy to show up just to soothe my wounded pride was totally unlike me on all counts.  Not only did I not have a high-maintenance ego, but I certainly wouldn’t abuse someone else’s affections just to stroke it if I did.

Who is this obnoxious creature and what have you done with Madly?
I groaned inwardly.

As we started off toward the center of campus, Kellina fell back from her place beside Aidan to speak to me.

“I had no idea you were such a prankster,” she teased.

I frowned at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play dumb,” she smiled, playfully bumping my shoulder with her own.  “I know it was you.”

I stopped.

“Seriously, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Kellina looked into my eyes, obviously searching for something, something like the truth.  When she found what she was looking for, I saw confusion cloud her pretty, soft green eyes.

“You mean you didn’t leave the flowers?”

A little tingle of apprehension skittered down my spine.

“Flowers?  What flowers?”

CHAPTER FIVE

Kellina frowned deeply.

“This morning, there was a huge bunch of daisies at the end of the path that I take through the woods to get to school.  Since we talked about it last night, I thought for sure it was you playing with me.”

“No, it wasn’t me, Kellina.”

“That’s really strange, don’t you think?  Maybe someone overheard us talking…”

I tried to sound casual, but all the while my mind was racing a mile a minute, trying to figure out what to do next.

“Maybe,” I agreed vaguely.

I still didn’t know if it was such a good idea to tell her the whole story.  I needed to think on that for a while, maybe even talk to Jackson about it.  As much as I loathed seeking him out again, he was sort of my partner in all of this and I felt like his input would be particularly valuable.

“Could it have been that boy that you said has a crush on you?  What was his name?”

“Eh,” she said, looking doubtful.  “Dustin?  He’s probably allergic to the forest.  And the outdoors.  And flowers.  And sports.  He’s more the academic type.  Now, if someone had
grown
me flowers, like some weird hybrid, I’d totally think it was Dustin,” she chuckled.

I wasn’t convinced.  

“What’s his last name?  I don’t think I even know any Dustins.”

“Hyden.  Dustin Hyden.  He’s really sweet, just kind of…backwards.”

“Oh,” I said, resuming our walk toward the quad.  “What’s he look like?”

I saw Kellina look ahead, toward Aidan.  Her lips tilted up at the corners.  It was obvious that, in her head, she was comparing him to Aidan.  I’m sure he came up short.  Aidan was really good looking, so most guys paled in comparison.  I doubted the brainy Dustin Hyden was an exception.

“He’s got dark hair and brown eyes I think.  He wears glasses and he’s still got braces.  He just got them last year I think.”

A light bulb went off.

“Is he kind of skinny?”

“Yeah.  Why?  Do you know him?”

“I saw a guy like that last night.  Was he at the party?”

Kellina shook her head. 

“I didn’t see him, but I wasn’t really looking for him either.”

A
hmm
was my only response.

Just then, Aidan slowed, dropping back to Kellina’s right side.  I knew our conversation was over.

“Ohmigod!” I cried.

“What?” Kellina said, looking alarmed.

“I left my, um, homework back in the… I’ll be back,” I stammered and then I was off.

I turned and bolted back to the dorm and went straight to Jackson’s room.  When I knocked on the door and didn’t get an immediate response, I let myself into my room and went through the adjoining door.

His room was empty and I growled in frustration.  Why was it that he showed up at all the wrong times, but couldn’t manage to hang around for all the right ones?

I left his room, slamming the door angrily behind me and then I stomped out into the hall, turning to lock our door behind me.  I had just jerked the key out of the lock and was turning to leave when I saw him.  It was as if he had just appeared, materializing out of thin, quiet air.

Dressed in black, as per his Sentinel’s usual, Jackson was leaning up against the wall across from my door, his arms laid casually over his chest, his feet crossed at the ankles.  He looked the picture of nonchalance.

There was nothing nonchalant about my reaction, though.  Courtesy of my impromptu visit that morning, I knew what perfection lay beneath his clothes and, more unnerving, I knew what his warm, chiseled lips tasted like.  Sometimes, it felt like that knowledge might be the death of me.

He said nothing, simply watched me from beneath heavy lids, his cerulean eyes taking me in.  I, too, said nothing, partly because he’d startled me and partly because, when I saw his eyes shift to my mouth, it literally stole my breath.  It was as if I could feel his lips on mine, like we were back in the woods and his breath was fanning my face.  When his eyes met mine again, they were sparkling hot and I would have sworn he was remembering that moment, too.