Dark Angel (Anak Trilogy) (5 page)

I couldn’t bear to look at the shocked expression on the face of every student in class and kept my gaze fixed on Zell’s back. The word “shocked” doesn’t even do the looks on my classmates’ faces justice. Mouths were literally hanging open. I fabricated a smile that I am sure looked more like a tortured grimace and followed him.  Every head turned as we passed and watched as we were seated.

Mrs. Edge rapped hard on her desk trying to get everyone’s attention. However, no one paid her any notice. Everyone, without exception, was still turned with their eyes on us.  I could feel the girls in class melting at Zell’s remarkable good looks, and I could feel little green monsters of envy eating away at the boys in class for the same reason. Mrs. Edge rapped repeatedly until the rubber head flew off the small wooden hammer she was abusing and hit Butterbean, alias Scott Brett, in the back of the head.

“Ow,
” Butterbean yelled rubbing the bump on his head. Scott had become affectionately known as Butterbean years ago in elementary school when he brought a plastic bowl full of the overblown beans to school for lunch. One of his friends aptly concluded that Scott resembled his lunch, pale and fluffy. From that moment on, Scott was called Butterbean by everyone under the age of 18 and occasionally by parents and teachers.

“Class, please! Please resume working on your essays,” M
rs. Edge said loudly. “Sorry Scott,” she added dryly as he retrieved the hard rubber hammer head from the floor and laid it on her desk.

Slowly, reluctantly, knowing there was a juicy story to be heard later behind our entrance, one by one, the class turned back around in their seats and resumed their essays.

Zell opened his notebook and began completing an essay about the assignment written on the board: Compare and contrast the characters in Hamlet. He wrote quickly in an elegant handwriting. I sat there like a lump of coal pen in hand staring at a blank sheet of paper. He tore that essay out of his notebook and began another. I watched in shocked silence as he headed the second one in my name and wrote it in my handwriting. How did he know what my handwriting looked like? He copied it to perfection.  This was getting stranger by the second. I began to really be afraid of this guy. I admit I was a little relieved that he was taking on my assignment himself because I still sat there, pencil in hand, in a fog with a blank piece of paper in front of me.

“How did you know?” I managed to squeak out.

“I know everything about you Annie,”

“How can you just walk in here and write out an essay
about the characters in Hamlet? Have you read it before?” I continued on in a whispering monotone tirade not waiting for an answer. “Wait, what do you mean you know everything about me? Are you a stalker?”

Zell laughed. “No, I only have your well-being in my heart. After I met you in Europe, I admit I was interested in you. I found out all I could about Miss Anna Hayes. To answer your
question, however, Shakespeare was a talented man. I have read all his work, and I even acted in a couple of his productions,” Zell answered.

“You mean at school in Europe?”
Annie asked.

“No, I mean at the Globe Theater,” Zell retorted.

“What are you talking about? The Globe Theater burned in 1613.”

Zell only smiled and winked.

This morning was getting out of control. “How can you write exactly like me?”

“It’s quite easy.
Chicken scratch is actually a breeze to imitate,” Zell chuckled pleased with his little writing job and flashed another brilliant smile.

I groaned. Next to his elegant penmanship, which was a cross between Old English Calligraphy and modern cursive, my handwriting did look like chicken scratch.

“Just stay away from me. People are getting the wrong impression. Everyone is staring. My boyfriend will be furious.  Besides you are creeping me out,” I whispered none too delicately.

Zell looked at me and smiled, but I could detect sadness in his
eyes. Immediately, I felt ashamed for saying he creeped me out. There were a lot of words I could use to describe him, but creepy was definitely not one of them. I turned my back to him and waited for class to end. I waited in dread for the bell to ring—to face all my friends who would be full of questions.  I shouldn’t have worried though because as soon as the bell rang, all the girls and a few of the guys crowded around to introduce themselves to Zell pushing me to the outside of the circle. I was forgotten. I saw the lovely LeeAnn latch on to Zell’s arm and pull him toward the door. That was fine with me; let LeeAnn have the stalker. Turning on my heels, I huffed out of the door.

I hurried to lunch. I
overslept and did not have time for breakfast. Today, I was thankful that seniors had early lunch because I didn’t remember eating last night either. In fact, I didn’t remember anything that happened the previous night after basketball practice. I did know that I was hungry now, and I moved to the hot lunch line. Today, my usual diet of salad at lunch wouldn’t do. I wouldn’t be able to eat it fast enough. I was ravenous, and I wanted something I could scarf down quick. I settled for a hamburger and fries. School hamburgers were rather lame, but I was in no shape to be a food critic today.

I was halfway through my hamburger when I saw the lovely LeeAnn enter the lunchroom with Zell. I was amazed once again at just how gorgeous this guy was. The word handsome didn’t even do him justice. He was beautiful, dazzling. Movie stars would be jealous of him. Even if he were a moron, I bet he could go to Hollywood and get a contract for a million dollars just to let people look at him. What was a guy like that doing in Dacula, Georgia? A small knot of anxiety, maybe fear, began to grow in my belly. My half-eaten hamburger dangled from my hand suspended in mid-air while my mouth hung limply open watching Zell and LeeAnn. I tried not to watch him as he walked with her to the salad bar, but I could not tear my eyes from him. It was as if he was magnetic north, and I was magnetic sou
th. Everything in me wanted to gravitate toward him. He turned his head and looked straight at me. His mysterious eyes locked with my eyes.  I saw a smile, smirk was more like it, tug at the corner of those luscious lips. Rylee walked up and locked her arm through his on the opposite side from LeeAnn. She tilted her head up to speak to him, and he pulled his gaze from mine and bent his head and whispered something in her ear. She giggled so loudly that I could hear her from where I sat thirty feet away. I was so lost in thought that I didn’t even notice when Jonny sat down beside me.

“What are you star
ing at?” Jon asked following my eyes to Zell, Rylee, and LeeAnn.

“There is a new guy at school who moved here from Europe. He is in my English class, and he says he met me last summer. I was just trying to place him. I don’t remember him at all. I think if I met him that I would remember him. He is so . . . so unusual looking,” I replied curling my nose in disgust.

Jon narrowed his eyes continuing to watch Zell, Rylee, and LeeAnn at the salad bar. “Looks like he’s hooked up already.”

I frowned. Somehow that comment bothered me, and I had no idea why it should. Reluctantly, and with every ounce of willpower I possessed, I drug my gaze from Zell to Jon.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Zell and the two girls sit down at a table parallel to Jon’s back. Zell’s questioning eyes met mine and locked there. He stared at me while Rylee and LeeAnn chattered on and on. I was lost in his gaze.

“Annie . . . Annie did you hear me?” Jonny asked as he began to turn around to see what I was staring at now. I grabbed his arm to stop him from catching me watching Zell again.

“I’m sorry. What were you saying? I was lost in thought. I got up late this mornin
g, and I missed my biology test. Kate’s in detention hall with Coach, and I’m just not all here today,” I said apologetically.

“I was
saying are we on for Lauren’s party this weekend?”

“Oh yeah, sure,” I answered automatically with a hint of regret. Why did I feel this way? Why was I regretting making a date with my boyfriend? I didn’t even understand me anymore.

“What did you say happened to Kate?” Jon asked looking around the lunchroom.

“
Don’t you listen to me? Kate is incarcerated in detention with Coach,“ I mumbled chewing on a fistful of fries. I was thankful when the bell rang to go to class and rescued me from anymore conversation with him.

“Humph! Poor Coach,” Jon snidely remarked.

Jon walked me to Civics after carrying both our trays to the hole in the side wall of the cafeteria where an attendant slapped them against a trough and stacked the trays in a container for the dishwasher.

Stopping outside the door, he tried to kiss me, but I alertly dodged his mouth. “Miss Howard will write us up if she sees us kissing in the hallway,” I hissed at him.

“Ah, Annie live dangerously for once,” Jon groaned throwing his hands up.

“Not a chance. My
dad is a minister. If I get written up for making out in the hall at school, he will freak.  My life is impossibly dull, and that’s the way I want it. I’ll see you later,” I said ducking under Jon’s outstretched muscular arm that was propped once again against the wall attempting to prevent me from entering class.

When I entered the room, I was disconcerted to see that Zell had been watching our exchange
intently. I was not sure I read the look in his eyes correctly, but he looked jealous. He looked deadly, and I was a bit unnerved by what I saw. I was also dismayed to see that Jon had kept me in the hall so long that the solitary open seat was next to Zell. If only Rylee and the lovely LeeAnn had been in Civics, I wouldn’t have to worry about the seat next to Zell being available.

With a
plop, I sat down and banged my books on the desk.

“Lover’s spat?” he leaned over and asked.

“
If
. . . ,“ I said hesitating for effect and raising my eyebrows so high that I was sure they were lost in my hairline, “it’s any of your business, no. Jonny can just be so . . . so clingy at times,” I remarked irritated. “Are you in all my classes?” I asked even more irritated by that possibility.

Zell laid his schedule on my desk. “I think I may be. Here, check my schedule.”

I recognized immediately that he was. He was in every single one of my classes. How did that happen?

“Yes, it appears that you are in all of them,” I groaned slapping the schedule back on his desk. “How much did it cost you to be able to irritate me all day, each and every day?”

“Does it really bother you that I am in all your classes?” he asked perplexed.

“The only thing that bothers me is that I will have to spend an exorbitant amount of time avoiding getting drool all over my clothes from your female admirers,” I gritted out.

Zell laughed out loud. It was a hearty, manly laugh that gets into your soul and immediately lifts your spirits. In spite of myself, I gave a half-hearted grin.

“Are you jealous?” he asked leaning close making sure Mrs. Howard’s back was turned as  she wrote on the board.

Horrified, I turned to face him with my mouth hanging open in disbelief.

“Jealous? Give me a break. Why would I be jealous? I have a boyfriend.”

Zell laughed again softly this time and looked into my eyes not blinking. His silver stare paralyzed me. Thankfully, Mrs. Howard began to lecture, and with great effort, I broke contact with his eyes and moved mine to my book.

When the bell rang at the end of class,
I was jolted from my trance as Zell took me by the elbow and lifted me up.

“May I walk with you to your next class since it is also mine?” he asked.

“What is with you and the manners? You talk like you’re from another century.” I pulled my elbow from his grasp and shrugged my shoulders in reluctant agreement. I didn’t understand why I was being so rude to this guy. I really should cut him some slack, but I was actually beginning to enjoy the verbal banter.

He grinned obviously unaffected by my sarcasm.

“Tell me what is there to do in Dacula?” Zell asked as we walked down the hall.

“Basically not much, but we are only about thirty minutes outside of Atlanta. There is plenty to do there: museums, an aquarium, a zoo, professional baseball, football, and basketball t
eams, theater, concerts, parks.”

    
“Hmmm, sounds like there will be a lot for us to explore together.”

I snorted and turned
to tell him it would be a cold day in . . . , but he was already handing his admit slip to a teacher that was substituting for Miss Picknell, our art teacher. She had taken a class of juniors to the High Museum in downtown Atlanta today, and a substitute was here in her place. I said a mental thank you when the sub slipped in a video about Leonardo Da Vinci. I knew I wouldn’t have to look at or talk to Zell while the video played. He was a nice guy, but everything about him disconcerted me. The sub slipped the DVD in to play on our large-screen Smart Board. He flipped off the lights. The room went into total darkness. The art room had very high ceilings for some unknown reason, and there were no windows. It was so dark that anyone could do anything in this room with the lights off and not be seen. The only light emanated from the video on the screen. Sitting together at the last table in the art room, Zell was so close that I could smell his scent. It was intoxicating. I didn’t know what kind of cologne or aftershave he wore, but it definitely worked. He leaned close, and where our bodies touched a flame seemed to burn on my skin. It was hard to think of anything but him. I folded my arms on the art table in front of me and lay my head down on them closing my eyes. I had nightmares last night and had not slept well. I was tired and becoming drowsy. Besides if I closed my eyes, maybe I would forget Zell was next to me.