Filed to story: Kissed by Claw and Fang
Our eyes meet, and for a second, just a second, the whole world seems to drop away. Macy, Sebastian, the other students who are laughing and chattering as they move past us on their way to the door all disappear until it’s just Zane and me and the electricity that arcs between us.
My breath catches in my throat, my whole body grows warm, and it takes real, physical effort to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.
I think he must be having the same problem, because his hand comes up, hovers in the air between us for one long, infinite moment.
“Ivy.” It’s barely a whisper, but still I feel it all the way inside myself. I wait, breath held, for him to say something-anything-else, but before he can, the front door flies open, letting in a huge gust of freezing air.
It breaks the spell, and suddenly we’re just two people standing in a crowded hallway again. Disappointment wells inside me, especially when Zane takes a step back, his face set once again in inscrutable lines.
I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches as Sebastian herds Macy and me toward the open door. As we cross the threshold, I raise my hand in a small goodbye wave.
I don’t expect him to return it, and he doesn’t. But just as I turn away to take my first step outside, he says, “Don’t forget to build an arsenal.”
They’re pretty much the last words I expect to hear from him…or anyone, for that matter. “An arsenal?”
“It’s the most important part of winning a snowball fight. Find a base you can protect and concentrate on building up your arsenal. Only attack when you’re sure you have enough ammunition to win.”
Snowballs. Here I was, convinced we had just shared a moment, and he’s thinking about snowballs. Fan-freaking-tastic.
“Ummm…thanks for the advice?” I give him a WTF look.
Zane responds with his regular, annoying blank face, but I swear his eyes are sparkling just a little. “It’s good advice. You should take it.”
“Why don’t you take it? Join me and the two of us can build a bigger arsenal.”
He lifts a brow. “And here I thought that’s exactly what I have been doing.”
“What does that mean?” I demand.
But he’s already turning away, already walking away, and I’m left staring after him.
As usual.
Damn it.
Something tells me this boy-and his world-famous disappearing act-is going to be the death of me.
We Came,
We Fought,
I Froze
“Zane Vale, huh?” Sebastian asks as the cold slaps me in the face for the second time today.
“Don’t start,” I say, giving him the side eye.
“I’m not,” he answers, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “I swear.” He’s silent for a minute or so as the three of us concentrate on trudging through the snow toward everyone else. And can I just say that I’m pretty sure Macy undersold the crowd when she said fifty people. Even in the weird civil twilight that surrounds us on all sides, it looks more like a hundred, maybe even the whole damn school-minus Zane and his friends, of course.
On the plus side, at least they’re all wearing hats and scarves and coats…which I’m taking to mean that not everyone in this place is an actual alien. Thankfully.
“I just didn’t know ‘screwed-up and obnoxious’ was your type, that’s all.”
I shoot him a glare. “I thought you weren’t starting.”
“I’m not. I’m just looking out for you. Zane is-“
“Not screwed up.”
He laughs. “I notice you didn’t even try to say he wasn’t obnoxious, though, did you? And no offense, Ivy, but you’re new here. You have no idea just how fucked-up he is.”
“And you do?”
“Yeah. And so does Macy. Right, Mace?”
Macy doesn’t answer, just keeps walking and pretends like she doesn’t hear him. I’m beginning to wish I could do the same.
“All right, all right, I get it.” Sebastian shakes his head. “I won’t say anything else against the Chosen One. Except tell you to be careful.”
“We’re friends, Sebastian.”
“Yeah, well, take it from someone who knows. Zane doesn’t have friends.”
I want to ask him what he means by that, considering Zane’s got the Order, and they seem pretty damn close to me, but we’ve reached the first row of trees, where the others are gathered. Plus, I’m the one who just said I didn’t want to talk about Zane. If I start asking questions, that gives Sebastian carte blanche to say whatever he wants, and that doesn’t seem fair, since Zane isn’t around to defend himself.
Sebastian walks into the middle of the group like he owns the place. Then again, judging from the way the others respond to him, maybe he does. It’s not that they all come to attention, necessarily. It’s just obvious that they all really want him to notice them…and they all really want to hear what he has to say.
I can’t help wondering what that kind of popularity is like. I don’t want it-would probably melt under the pressure of it in less than twenty-four hours. But I do wonder what it feels like. And how Sebastian feels about it.
I don’t have long to dwell on my thoughts, though, because Sebastian gets started giving a quick rundown of the rules-starting with one that sounds an awful lot like there are no rules, except it’s followed by the one that says if you get hit by five snowballs, you’re out-and then disperses the crowd. As the five-minute countdown starts, he grabs Macy’s and my hands and starts running with us toward a large thicket of evergreen and aspen trees several hundred yards away.
“We’ve got two minutes to find a good spot,” he says. “Another two and a half to get things together. Then it’s open season.”