Filed to story: Kissed by Claw and Fang
“Yeah, and did I also ask him to dive out of a tree to save your life?”
“I’m sure he thought you would have asked if there was time.”
“Oh my God! You are so annoying.” She flops back against the bed. “I can’t decide if you’re lying to yourself or if you’re just this naive.”
“I’m not lying. And I’m not naive.” I give her my most sincere look. “I swear, Macy. There’s nothing going on between Sebastian and me.”
She studies me for a second, then nods. “Okay, fine. But I notice you didn’t say the same thing about you and Zane.”
“Zane and me… Zane is… I mean, we’re… I don’t…” I trail off, cheeks burning, because even I can tell how incoherent and ridiculous I sound. “Ugh.”
“Wow.” Now Macy’s eyes are huge. “That serious, huh?”
I don’t know what to say, so I almost don’t say anything at all. Except Macy has gone to school here a lot longer than I have, which means she knows a lot more about Zane than I do, and I would really like to benefit from a little of that knowledge.
“It’s complicated.” I expect her to ask what’s complicated about it, but she doesn’t. Instead she just nods like, of course it is.
“He’s not really dangerous like you said, is he?”
Even as I ask the question, I know the answer…which is, hell yeah, he is. And you should stay as far away from him as you possibly can.
I mean, he’s never been anything but gentle when he touched me, but it’s as plain as the scar on his face that Zane isn’t like the other boys I’ve known. Every single thing about him screams danger- of the dark and brutally wounded variety. It’s in his eyes, in his voice, in the way he holds himself and the way he moves.
I recognize it, even acknowledge it. But when I’m near him, that doesn’t matter. When I’m near him, nothing matters but getting closer, even though it’s obvious he’s been hurt before and just as obvious that he’s determined to protect himself. Was it his brother’s death that did this to him? Or is Hudson just one piece of a much bigger puzzle?
My instincts say it’s the latter, but I haven’t known him long enough to be sure.
Silence stretches between us for several long seconds. I watch Macy, who pretty much has the opposite of a poker face, as she tries to figure out what to say. It takes a little while, but finally she settles on, “He’s not
Silence of the Lambs dangerous. He’s not going to drop you in a pit and starve you so he can make a dress out of your skin or anything.”
I burst into incredulous laughter. “Seriously? That’s the best you’ve got? He’s not going to make a dress out of my skin?”
She shrugs. “I also said he wouldn’t starve you in a pit.”
“It’s Alaska. You’d need a professional oil drill to make a pit in the frozen ground.”
“Exactly.” She holds her hands out in an obvious gesture. “See, told you he wouldn’t do it.”
“Are you trying to be reassuring here, or are you trying to scare the hell out of me?”
“Yes.” She bats her eyes at me. “Is it working?”
“I have no freaking idea.”
My phone buzzes, and I almost ignore it. But it has to be Heather-Macy’s the only one at Katmere who’s got my number-and right now, I could use a little of my BFF’s brand of sanity.
Heather: How was your first day of classes?
Heather: Any hot guys in your English class?
Heather: Or hot girls? Asking for a friend…
She includes the dtf emoji in the last one, and I laugh despite myself. Then take a quick pic of Macy in her tank top and long underwear, who fakes a pouty pose when I say it’s my BFF back home, and answer:
Me: ALL the hot girls.
Heather: Ugh. Mean
Heather: How was class?
Me: Altitude sickness kept me home. But I’m going tomorrow
And then, because Heather can go on forever and I want to finish this conversation about how Zane isn’t an actual movie serial killer, I text:
Me: Busy right now
Me: ttys
Then I put my phone aside and turn back to my cousin, who is currently scrolling through her own phone. She quits as soon as she realizes I’m done texting and then says, “Tell me the truth, Ivy. Do you like Zane?”
“Like” is too insipid a word for the emotions Zane stirs up in me. There’s something about him that calls to me on a soul-deep level, something broken in him that somehow fits with what’s broken in me.
I know Macy doesn’t see it. She’s too busy being afraid of his darkness and social status to pay attention to what’s under the surface. But I see it-all the grief and pain and fear roiling around in him just beneath the blank face and empty eyes. I see him in a way I don’t think anyone else at this school does.
I don’t tell her any of that, though-it’s not my place to share Zane’s suffering. Instead, I answer, “What does it matter if I like him or not?”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Because I don’t have an answer!” I groan. “I’ve been here three days, Mace. Three days! Everything feels upside down and backward, and I have no idea what I think about anything…or anyone. I mean, how am I supposed to know how I feel about a guy I barely know? Especially when he ignores me one minute and carries me home the next. He’s different than anybody I’ve ever met and-“
Macy’s snort interrupts my diatribe.