Evanescent (4 page)

Nope, not going to let Cooper worm his way
into Laken’s anything, least of all her jeans.

I slip my hands over her bottom and feel her
soft, warm skin.

Laken’s body and heart, I want them both to
be mine.

Laken

Monday morning, I sit and gaze out the oversized
window from my dorm and marvel how the days blink by like a dove
swatting its wings in flight. I wonder where we’re headed. Where it
is exactly this manufactured destiny proposes to take me—to take
all of us.

Behind me, Jen drools into her phone,
conducting her regular morning sexting session with Jackson—a lanky
boy from the basketball team. It’s weird seeing Jen so
stratospherically happy after she was such a frustrated mess with
“insane Blaine” who bagged every babe he could while under the
guise of their
committed
relationship.

The fog smooths over the rolling hills on
the other side of the frozen glass. The sun tries to break through
the haze, staining the horizon with a salmon bruise. People huddle
in overcoats as they shuffle along the intricate walkways. They
look small as sparrows who have had their wings clipped—trapped at
Ephemeral like some luxurious, opulent prison. The campus gleams
and glitters. Ephemeral Academy is a masterwork of beauty with its
cathedral-like buildings and winding brick roads.

The dark forest that hedges along the
property catches my attention. It gives a private whisper while the
fog strays from its border as if it were too afraid to go there.
That’s where I last saw Casper, my ex-roommate for less than a
week. Someone or something took her. Turns out, Casper was of
Celestra descent like my mother and sister. And I can only assume
they’re all holed up in the nebulous “tunnels,” being drained of
their lifeblood for the sport of it.

“Let’s go!” Jen’s voice hits its upper
register and sends a cluster bomb of a headache railing through my
temples.

It takes a second to figure out Jen is
barking at
me
rather than Jackson. She buries the phone in
her blazer and hitches her thumb to the door.

“I talked to Blaine last night.” She blinks
into her statement. “Heard you really showed ‘em who was boss at
the commencement.”

“Blaine?” Personally, I’m disgusted Jen
still lets him entertain her with those vocal exercises of his that
never seem to include the truth. “Please, don’t let that dick-nose
worm his way back into your life. Trust me, I should know. I’ve had
more than my fair share of assholes that tried to screw me over, in
more ways than one.” Tucker Donavan springs to mind, my once upon a
boyfriend. He was more your
fuck ‘em and leave ‘em
type,
only he decided to try a girlfriend on for size and to my
misfortune that happened to be me.

“It was business.” She averts her eyes as if
I should know better—and I do. I’d bet truckloads of Anderson
dollars that Blaine is about to worm his way back in. “Relax,
Laken. It was a house parent meeting, and he happened to sit next
to me. He said you hacked off the heads of those poor birds.”

“That’s right.” I cinch my backpack over my
shoulder as we make our way downstairs. “And I’m gunning for hairy
balls next time, so he’d better watch out.”

Jen belts out a laugh. She’s not at all as
uptight as she was when I first arrived over a month ago, and I’m
not sure how alarmed I should be over this.

“Anyway,” she sighs before taking her post
as the keeper of the gate. “I decided to talk to Wes regarding your
relationship. He’ll have to present you with a purity ring if an
engagement is on the horizon.”

“What?” I take it all back. Swear to God,
one day I’m going to find out Jen is a transplant from the eighteen
hundreds, and I’m not even going to bat a lash. “No, seriously,
don’t do that.” Wait—what am I saying? A purity challenge would be
genius. At least that way I could hold off Wes while I straightened
out my feelings for Coop. I could easily have given myself to Wes
at the lake Saturday night, but Cooper kept sliding his way into my
mind, my
heart
—slippery as oil.

Carter waves to me from the dining hall with
her blonde locks coifed to perfection. Her bright cherry-stained
lips are wide with a smile.

“Look Jen—you should probably just stay out
of my love life,” I warn before taking off. I seriously doubt the
idea of a ‘purity ring’ will go over too well with Wes—he does have
an extra limb dangling from his body that’s been trying to get my
attention. I’ll have to figure this out on my own without
intervention from Jen and her circa 1884 solutions.

The scent of maple oatmeal and bacon lies
thick in the air as I pick up a plate and indulge in the glorious
buffet that Austen House affords. Both breakfast and dinner are
served in an opulent dining hall. The tablecloths lay stretched out
in a pattern of black and orange with fall arrangements bursting
from a cornucopia on each table.

Carter springs to life next to me. “Grayson
Evans has totally got it out for you,” she hums in my ear, excited
as if this tidbit of gossip concerned someone else entirely. The
titillation factor alone has her reeling. “She says you’re after
Coop and she’s going to kick your ass.”

“Sounds fascinating. Will brass knuckles be
involved?” I pause at the fruit bar. Carter’s dark copper eyes spin
like a kaleidoscope at the thought of me getting my ass kicked by
Grayson. “Let me guess, she’s going to hang me upside down in the
quad because she can’t get laid by the hottest looking guy on
campus?”

My stomach bottoms out. Since when did
Cooper usurp Wes as the god of Ephemeral—or is it my heart Coop’s
ushered him from?

Her mouth rounds out as I realize my
gaff.

“I meant football team, sorry—blonde moment.
Wes is totally the hottest looking guy on campus. And, trust me,
nobody is getting laid by Wes other than me.” My insides pinch when
I say it. My body has been craving to welcome Wes into it for as
long as I can remember.

“I got laid by Wes.” An unfriendly voice
taunts from behind as Kresley makes her way past me. Her dark hair
is pulled back, her eyes drawn to slits. She totes cosmetic
perfection and, if that wasn’t enough for me to dislike her, she
once owned Wesley’s heart.

Kresley Fisher. My entire body ignites with
contempt at the thought of her touching Wes—
my
Wesley, the
one I presume is hiding out in nuWesley’s body.

“Blow her off.” Carter pulls me out of line
as bodies begin to bottleneck behind us.

I snatch up a plate of grapefruit with a
Maraschino cherry dotting the top. Not my favorite breakfast, but I
appreciate the cherry.

“So”—Carter starts off measured as we make
our way to a table in the back—“homecoming is in two weeks, and I
thought I’d ask Fletch. You think that’s okay? Or should I wait and
see if he asks me?”

“It’s just a football game.” I shrug. “Just
hang out with him and do your thing. You’re practically together
anyway.” Now that Grayson is in full stalker mode with Coop, I
don’t think Carter has any competition when it comes to my goofball
brother.

“Just a football game?” She pants as though
the entire concept has escaped me.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I forget the beer and
tailgating?”

“
Laken!
There’s a formal at the
country club after. It’s a day game—school is canceled and
everything.”

“And everything?” I tease. “Sounds
exciting.”

“It is. We need to go shopping before things
gets picked over.” She leans in. “I hear Kresley had her dress hand
beaded in
Paris
. Fallon says she looks ‘fucking hot.’” She
makes a face.

“Good for her.” A spear of jealousy cuts
through me—eviscerates me—leaves my guts spilling all over the
floor because Wes once worshiped at her feet, probably kissed them,
too. I want to look hot. Just the thought of Wes looking at
Kresley,
wanting
her, kills me on an intimate level, and I
feel like an ass for even thinking about Coop.

A dull ache settles in the pit of my stomach
because some uncontrollable part of me cries out for Cooper
Flanders, and I hate that uncontrollable part of me.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Carter lays her
hand over my wrist.
She’s got the face of a pageant queen, and
she’s a freaking Anderson. What the hell kind of problems could
Laken really have?

I twist a smile. It’s more than a little
delicious hearing her thoughts—anybody’s thoughts—if I touch their
skin or vice versa.

“Nothing’s the matter.” I pluck the cherry
off its citrus platter. “Everything is just freaking perfect. I’ve
got Wes, and all is right with the world.” If I say it enough maybe
I’ll believe it. Although, Wes doesn’t believe a single thing I
tell him about our stolen lives and Cooper believes every word that
sails from my mouth as if it were gospel.

A tray slams down next to me, and we look up
to see a gaggle of curls adorning a baby-faced Hattie Tobias.

“Anyone sitting here?” Her voice sounds
shallow, too high and clear to be real, like the monotone recording
of a doll.

“It’s all yours,” I say, snatching up my
backpack.

“Tell Cooper I said hello.” Her dark eyes
spark to life as she withholds a smile. She’s taunting me,
threating me on some level, and I don’t like it.

“You can tell him yourself,” I say before
turning to Carter. “I have to meet up with someone. I’ll catch you
in first. Do yourself a favor, and don’t ask Fletch, give him the
chance to crawl to you on his knees.” In any reality Fletch is
lucky that a girl of Carter’s, blessed by God, caliber would be
interested in him.

“Laken?” Hattie calls after me as I make my
way to the door.

I look back expecting her to say something,
but she doesn’t. Her face begins to morph. Her skin melts down to
her neck. Then a display of skeletal matter appears with muscle and
tendons, a row of brown teeth, chipped and rotting. Her face morphs
back in reverse until Hattie offers a flesh-eating grin, her pearly
whites each neatly restored to their false glory.

I don’t bother to hang out and applaud her
supernatural efforts—I just bolt the hell out of Austen House.

Wesley usually walks me to class in the
morning, but late last night he texted that he had an “Ensign”
meeting and would see me at nutrition. That’s the part of Wes I
remember from Cider Plains; the kind, caring boyfriend who would
lay his coat over a puddle just so I wouldn’t step in it.

That strange sight from breakfast still
lingers in my mind as I walk into the English building. I’ve been
looking over my shoulder with every third step, in search of a
demonic Tobias. I can’t help but feel like she’s watching me, ready
to attack from behind like a rattlesnake. I’ve never felt so
vulnerable as I have here at Ephemeral. Even Wes has become an
enigma. I trust him about as much as a threadbare rope.

The white glossy halls are empty, save for a
few people digging into their lockers. Edinger’s door is open so I
peer inside before entering. I’ve already determined that “Mr.
Edinger” is far from human. Dr. Flanders referred to him as a
Fem
—some kind of magical morphing demon that can take the
shape of a sack of shit if it wanted, and in Mr. Edinger’s case, it
very much wanted.

Coop looks up from his book. His entire face
beams as I make my way to the desk behind him. We’re both juniors,
and we have a couple subjects together. And even though there are a
few seniors in my classes, I don’t share a single hour with
Wes.

“Morning handsome,” I whisper. Even if it
did come out with a hint of sarcasm, it’s undeniably true. Cooper
is a testament to the male species with his chiseled features—his
eyes the color of a storm on the horizon.