FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One (2 page)

The cafeteria was located near the center of the school.  There was indoor and outdoor seating, and at the moment I approached, a long line of students snaked out the doorway.

I joined the throng, looking around for Michael. I didn’t see him, but it was so crowded, I could have easily missed him.  Having so many people around me was also making it hard to keep up my mental walls, and I frowned in concentration. The last thing I wanted was a headache with my lunch.

I finally made it through the doors. It was a typical high school cafeteria. Long tables with attached benches were set up along the walls. I saw another door leading to the outdoor eating area. Immediately in front of me were the tray pick up and the food line. The room was filled with milling students, choosing their food and then their seats. The tables were nearly all filled, and I began to panic not only about finding Michael, but about finding a place to sit at all.

As my eyes swept the room, I saw Nell sitting at a table, along with Liza and Casey and four other girls. Ah, yes, I thought, that would be the in-crowd right there: Nell and her posse. She was clearly the center of the group, leaning on the table in the bored, self-assured attitude of one who was positive of her place in the world. I sighed at the injustices of life.

“Hey, you made it!” I heard Michael’s happy thought before I saw him. He was smiling and holding an overflowing tray in one hand.

“Yeah, here I am…” Well, that was a truly inspired reply.  I tried not to wince at my own lameness.

“We’re right over there.” With his free hand, he pointed to a table in the corner, where two other boys and two girls were sitting. They were all watching us with great interest.

“Are you sure there’s room for me?”
Oh, please say yes,
I begged silently.

Michael’s thoughts were a warm and happy buzz in my mind, but I focused on listening to his spoken reply. “Oh, yeah, plenty of room. Grab your food and come on over. I’ll save you a spot.”

My hands were still shaking as I picked up a tray. My experience with boys was fairly non-existent. It was all part of the blend in, fly under the radar and don’t make a fuss theory of life to which my parents subscribed, at least when it came to me. Michael was not only a boy, he was an incredibly hot one who actually seemed to be interested in me.

I made it through the line, grabbing only a small salad, a pack of crackers and a bottle of water. Holding the tray in a death grip—what would be worse than to drop it at this point?—I carefully wended my way through clumps of people who were trying to find seats themselves. When I finally reached Michael’s table, he slid along the bench and patted the spot he had just vacated.

I put my tray on the table and dropped onto the bench, still warm from Michael. My heart was pounding so loudly in my ears that between its noise and the crowd of thought voices, I could barely hear Michael introducing me to his friends.

“Hey, guys, this is Tasmyn. She’s new.”

They were all looking at me already, and the rush of attention brought their minds into sharper focus for me.  I couldn’t quite pick out who was thinking what.

Michael, with a girl at the lunch table…pretty… what was her name? …Hey, she’s in my speech class… oooh, Michael has a girlfriend!

I flushed and frowned, trying to concentrate on keeping my wall up and the voices out.

“Are you okay?” Michael dropped his voice low and looked at me with concern.

I forced a smile and nodded. “Yeah, sorry. Just—you know—a little headache. I’m probably just hungry.”

Michael’s expression cleared, and he turned back to the rest of the table, dropping a hand on my back. I smothered a gasp as a surge of electric feeling shot through me. I was immediately feeling everything he was feeling, and it was dizzying.

He pointed to the opposite bench. “So, over there, that’s Dan, Brea and Jim.” They each smiled in turn, and the girl, Brea, sketched a small wave. “And here on this side, Craig and Anne.”

Anne leaned over and beamed at me. “Don’t worry, there’s no quiz on this stuff. You’ll figure us all out sooner or later.”

One of the boys sitting across from me nodded. “Yeah.  So where are you from?”

I kept the smile pasted on my face, trying hard to focus on the conversation and not on Michael’s hand—still on my back—or the curious thoughts buzzing around the table.

“I’ve lived all over, actually. We move about every two years. This last time, we came down here from Wisconsin.”

The boy at the end of my bench snorted. “That’s gonna be a change. So which are you, a skier or a surfer? Are you going to miss the cold or love the heat?”

I shook my head. “Not at all. I was really over the whole snow thing. I like the idea of year-round summer.”

There were snickers all around the table, and I realized I had just fallen into the typical new Florida resident trap.

Michael dropped his hand from my back and shot a mock-angry look at his friends. “Cool it, guys. We’ve all lived here forever. Tasmyn hasn’t had a taste of—uh, year-round summer yet.”

I ventured a glance at him. “Really? You’ve all been here always?”

“Yup.” Michael nodded. “At least, in Florida. Craig, Anne and I have been together since kindergarten, and everyone else came to King at different times.”

“That must be nice.” If my voice held just a touch of envy, Michael ignored it. He smiled and then looked at my tray.

“Where’s the rest of your lunch?”

“What do you mean?” I was lost.

“You’re going to eat more than a salad and water, aren’t you?  You can’t get through an afternoon on just that.”

“I think I’ll make it,” I answered, not even attempting to hide my amusement.

He shook his head and shoved a small paper container of French fries toward me. “Here. Eat these at least. I don’t want to hear about you passing out in—whatever class you have this afternoon.”

I picked up one fry between two fingers and nibbled on it delicately. First days always gave me a queasy stomach, and I didn’t want to tempt fate.

“What
do
you have this afternoon, anyway?” Michael asked.

I pulled out my schedule and scanned it. “American History and Trig.”

“Cool. I have English and Botany.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Botany? Really? That’s not your typical high school Science class.”

Michael grinned. “It’s an elective for seniors. Retired professor from University of Florida teaches it.”

“You’re a senior?” I hadn’t picked that up in his mind. Which of course isn’t surprising; who goes around thinking of their vital statistics all the time?

“Yup. We all are here.” He indicated the table with a flip of his thumb.

I managed a crooked smile. “Does being a junior mean that I get tossed off this lunch table?”

Michael laughed. “Nah, we don’t discriminate against age.”

I clapped my hand to my heart and feigned a swoon. “What a relief!”

He smiled again, but his eyes—those deep green eyes—stayed riveted to mine. And then suddenly I could hear him, as though he were whispering into my ear.

Don’t want to come on too strong. Ride home? Maybe. Work today… but it could happen…

Too late, I realized I was staring. Michael’s expression had turned quizzical again, and I tried to remember the last thing he had said aloud. Before I could figure it out, he spoke again.

“Do you drive to school? I mean, if you need a ride… I live way outside town, so pretty much every neighborhood is on my way home.” He was trying to sound nonchalant, but even without hearing him think, I picked up the eagerness. It made my heart start flopping all over again.

“I didn’t drive. Actually, my mom is picking me up.” I felt the redness creep up my neck. Could I sound any more like a five year old?

But Michael didn’t even blink. “Okay, maybe another time. If you needed a ride to school or home or whatever. I’m just saying it’s on my way.”

The girl on the other side of Michael leaned around him, mischief dancing in her eyes. “What he’s trying to say is that he has a really cool car that he likes to show off, and you’d be doing him a favor if you let him drive you somewhere.”

Michael rolled his eyes and gave her a gentle shove. “Shut up, Anne. You’re just jealous because I don’t let you drive her.”

Anne laughed. “See that? ‘
Her
.’ His car is the real love of his life.”

The bell sounded, interrupting any comeback Michael might have made. Everyone stood up, grabbing books and any trays still left on the table. Michael took mine along with his, stacking and carrying them on one arm.

I took a deep breath. “Well, here I go. Nice short afternoon, anyway.”

Michael grinned and followed me as I pushed through the crowd.  At the door, I paused and looked up at him.

“I think I need to go this way,” I said, pointing to the left.

He nodded. “Sounds right. I go in the opposite direction.” But he didn’t turn away.

“Well… thanks for letting me sit with you guys today. It’s one of the hardest parts of a new school, you know—having someone to eat with.”

“I hope you’ll sit with us permanently. I mean, all the time. You’re welcome to, anyway.”

“Thanks.” I drew in a deep breath. “I guess I’ll see you later?”

Michael’s eyes were drilling into mine once again.  “Definitely.” He turned and disappeared into the throng of people on the walkway, and I stood watching after hi
m
.

My afternoon didn’t hold any real surprises. I liked my History teacher right away; he was an older man with a wickedly dry wit. I knew his class would be a challenge, but at least I wasn’t going to be bored.

Math was a different story. Anything with numbers was an anathema to me. The teacher didn’t seem too bad; she was young and energetic, and assured me with a snap of her fingers that I would “catch up just like that!” I didn’t share her optimism, but I smiled and nodded anyway.

I recognized some faces from my morning classes in History and Math, and some of them even nodded to me vaguely. I wasn’t exactly thrilled to see that Nell was in my History class. This time she was on her own, with none of the girls from Science or lunch surrounding her. She sat aloof, her eyes forward, and she didn’t even blink when I walked past her to my seat. I made a concerted effort not to pick up any thoughts or feelings from her direction.

I lingered for a few extra minutes at my locker, pretending that I was searching for a book. I didn’t even admit to myself that I was hoping to see Michael again. But when someone tapped me on the shoulder, my heart did give a little leap, and I turned expectantly.

But it was not Michael. My Chemistry teacher, Ms. Lacusta, stood behind me, her eyes bright and somehow knowing.

“Hello, Ms. Vaughn. And how was your first day in King?”

I frowned. I couldn’t hear anything coming from the teacher’s mind, just some odd kind of static. It made me dizzy, as though I had expected solid ground and instead had stepped into emptiness.

“Uh—good. Thanks. It was good.”

Ms. Lacusta smiled, and a chill snaked down my backbone.

“I’m glad. I think King will prove to be very interesting to you. If you need anything—any help in adjusting—please, don’t hesitate to come and see me.”

I didn’t know how to answer, so I just nodded and stuttered my thanks. After a moment, Ms. Lacusta turned and glided away.

That was weird
, I thought as I slammed my locker door and headed toward the parking lot. I’d heard of involved teachers, but there was just something a little off about that woman. I shivered even as the mid-afternoon sun beat down on me.

My mother had parked near the front of the student lot. As I walked toward her, squinting in the glare of the sun, I picked up a loud thought at the same time that I heard my name.

“Hey, Tasmyn!” A light blue older model car slid up alongside me. It was a convertible and the top was down.  Michael smiled up at me from the driver’s seat.

“Hi,” I answered. From across the parking lot, I could feel my mother’s shock and trepidation and from the car, I could feel Michael’s warm interest. It was like being pulled in opposite directions.

“Did you have a good afternoon?” Michael’s eyes were hidden by sunglasses, but I could just imagine the kindness there.

“Um, yes, I did. How about you?”

He shrugged. “Not bad. So, your mom’s here?”

I gritted my teeth and nodded. “Yeah, she’s over there.” I waved vaguely in her direction and struggled to save myself from total humiliation. “She doesn’t usually drive me to school, but since it was my first day here—and I didn’t know how long it was going to take—”

“Hey, it’s cool! My mom or dad drove me to school for years. We live too far outside of King for me to walk. And then my sister drove me once she got her license.”

“But now you’ve got your sweet car.” I touched the door. “It’s—is it an antique?”

Michael slapped a hand to his heart and feigned a look of horror. “Don’t tell me you don’t know what kind of car this is.”

I felt the flush returning to my cheeks. “I’m not much of a car expert.”

“Well, let me educate you. This, my dear, is a 1965 Mustang, the best car that ever rolled off a line in Detroit or anywhere else.”

“It’s… nice.” I knew I sounded lame, but I couldn’t think of anything else. The pressure of knowing my mom was watching this whole scene unfold was making me panic.

“Nice.” Michael rolled his eyes. “Let me take you for a ride soon, and I bet I can get more than ‘
nice
’ out of you.”

“Sorry.” I glanced over my shoulder at my mother, who was sitting with her hands folded over the steering wheel.  Michael followed my gaze.

“No,
I’m
sorry. I’m holding you up, aren’t I?”

I shrugged. “Just—it’s my first day here, and she probably wants to know how everything went.”

Michael’s voice was very low when he answered. “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble. Is she—will she be mad?” And beneath the words, I could hear his churning thoughts and realized that he had misunderstood completely.

“No! I mean, she’s not that way. It’s just—” This was going to be mortifying, but it was better than Michael believing that my mom was going beat me when we got home. “I don’t usually talk to boys—they don’t talk to me—and she’s probably wondering what’s going on. I’m an only child. My parents can be a little overprotective.”

“You don’t talk to boys?” Now Michael was totally confused, but this time, what he was thinking made my heart flutter.
A girl like her? Thought guys would be all over her. Can’t believe she doesn’t have someone already…

“I guess I tend to be a little shy.” That was an understatement. “Listen, I’m sorry, I don’t want to be rude, but I really do need to go. Can I—I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure.” Michael leaned back in his seat and grinned again. “See you then.”

I stepped back from his car as he pulled away, but I didn’t move toward my mom until he had turned out of the parking lot.

With a deep breath, I opened the car door. “Hi!” I wondered fleetingly if I could distract her with talk about the rest of my day. “Sorry about that. I had a really good first day, though—”

“So it would seem.” My mom’s voice was dry, and I felt the conflict of emotions rolling from her. She was both pleased and disturbed that I was talking to a boy. She was excited and frightened for me at the same time. I didn’t know which to address first, and neither did she. We were both quiet as she turned onto the street.

“It’s nothing big, Mom,” I said at last, affecting the best careless tone I could manage. “He was just being nice.”

“Are you cheating?” Her tone was only mildly accusing. I knew she was talking about the agreement we had made years ago, when I was very small: no listening in on parental minds. It was a hard agreement to keep: the two people in the world I was closest to were also the easiest for me to hear. But I had learned early on that I didn’t really want to know what my parents were thinking, and so I tried to block them pretty consistently.

“No, I didn’t need to listen to your mind,” I answered. “I could feel you from all the way over there. Plus, I know you. You’re already freaking, trying to figure out how to deal with this.”

“I’m not freaking!” Her voice rose an octave. “You’ve got to understand, this is new territory for your dad and me. I know most girls your age have boyfriends, and it’s completely fine. But you—Tas, you know you’re different. You’re special. We have to take special care…”

“I get that!” My voice rose too, despite my efforts to keep it even. “I understand. But I also know I need to have a life. And a life might include friends, and yes, even boyfriends. I don’t even really know Michael yet. Maybe he’s just a nice person who will turn out to be a good friend. But I won’t find out if I don’t—if you won’t trust me a little, give me a little space.”

“Michael?” She was a bit calmer. “That’s his name? How old is he?”

“Yes, Michael Sawyer. And he’s a senior.”

“You got all that from a five minute conversation at his car?” She already suspected the answer.

“No. I met him earlier in the day, and I ate lunch with him—and his friends.”

My mother’s concern ratcheted up a couple of levels. “That sounds like someone interested in more than just being nice.”

I blew out a breath between clenched teeth. “I told you, I don’t know yet. There was a girl giving me a hard time, and he kind of stood up for me. And then he asked if I wanted to sit with him at lunch, so I did. I liked not having to sit by myself for a change.”

My mom winced. “Tasmyn, we don’t make these rules because we want you to be lonely. We make them to protect you.” We pulled into our driveway, and she carefully put the car into park, engaged the brake and fiddled with the keys. “We only have your interest at heart, you know that. It’s so hard to know whom we can trust. Daddy and I realize how difficult this is for you.”

“I don’t think you really do,” I shot back. “I’ve been in seven schools in twelve years, and I’ve never had any friends. You always tell me how special I am, how I have to be careful. But I can’t live the rest of my life worrying about being taken advantage of. I just can’t. I need to be able to get to know people, to make some real friends. You and Daddy have each other. I have no one.”

I jumped out of the car, grabbing my backpack and slamming the door. Tears were threatening, and I wasn’t going to break down out here. I held myself stiff as my mother unlocked the front door, and I followed her inside, going directly to my room.

I threw my bags on the bed and then dropped down next to them, curling up with my head buried in the pillow. I had never been a dramatic teenager. My parents had gotten off pretty lightly when it came to adolescent angst. But right now, it felt as though all the injustices of the world were crashing down on me. Any other normal girl could talk to a boy in front of her mother without said parent envisioning doom. Why did I feel so guilty?

I sulked in my room until my mother called me for dinner. At the table, the tension was painfully thick. My father broke the awkward silence about half way through the meal.

“Your mother tells me you met someone today,” he began. “That must have been nice.”

“It was a change, anyway,” I muttered.

“Well, you’re a beautiful young lady. I’m only surprised this hasn’t happened before now.” I knew what this was. This was the praise that was supposed to make me feel good about myself before they lowered the boom of whatever came next.

“But…?” I prompted.

“But what?” My father was all innocence. “I was just commenting.”

“Really?” I broke off a piece of meatloaf with my fork and toyed with it. “So you’d be okay with Michael driving me home from school?”

My mother nearly choked on her green beans, and my father put down his knife with a deliberate clunk. They both gawked at me as though I’d grown a second head.

“Driving you home? When?” My mother found her voice first.

“I don’t know. He just mentioned that he could. Or would. Some time.” I was hedging.

“Why would he do that?” my dad demanded.

“I don’t know, maybe because I’m—what did you say? A beautiful young lady?” I bit back a smug smile.

For a few minutes, the silence returned. My father took a bite of his roll, chewing slowly. I didn’t cheat and listen to him, but I couldn’t block his swirl of annoyance, worry and fear.

When he did speak, his voice was serious.

“Tasmyn, we have been given the job of protecting you, all your life. Not only because of your—your gift, but just because you are our child. No matter what the circumstance, we would be very cautious about entrusting your safety to someone we don’t really know.”

“I understand that. But I also know that I’m seventeen years old, and I’ve never given you reason to believe that I’m anything less than trustworthy. We’re talking a drive from the school to here, less than ten minutes. I’d probably be safer that way than walking home, which was what I’d been planning to do, now that I know the way.”

Neither of them answered me immediately. I knew they were struggling, and in some ways, I felt guilty for being the cause of their distress. I inadvertently picked up a few phrases floating in their heads… 
she’s still so young, she doesn’t know… how do we know if this boy can be trusted…
  But still I stayed stubbornly quiet, my eyes glued to the table.

Finally, my mother spoke. “So, you really think it’s safe for you to ride to school with someone you’ve known—what, a day? Not even?”

I shrugged. “It’s not like he’s asked me out on a date. He just offered me a ride. I’d like to know I could say yes without you guys freaking out or getting mad.”

My father scowled at me. “I don’t think either of us has freaked out. We’ve expressed our reservations to you. If I’m going to be honest, Tasmyn, I’ll admit that I’d be more comfortable with you not getting involved with this boy. You might think it’ll all work out, but it’s going to be hard for you to be his friend without giving away your—what you can do.”

“I can do it. I’ve lived with this my whole life. I think I can handle it.”

My mother sighed heavily, and my father shook his head. “Tas, obviously your mom and I have serious reservations about this whole idea. But we do trust you. If you want to ride home with this—what’s his name? Mike?”

“Michael,” I answered, almost giddy that they were going to give in.

“Okay, Michael. If you feel that it’s safe for you to ride home with him, I guess it’s all right. But you need to take things really slow, understand? Be very, very careful.”