Secrets of the Sleeper: True Nature Series: Book One (4 page)

I wasn’t one for getting in trouble in class and didn’t want to risk the teacher’s wrath the first day by passing notes. So I just mouthed “later” to her, slipped the note into my binder, and turned my attention to the teacher. Besides, my reaction to Isaac bothered me. That had just been weird.

Blue Eyes

Ruthie and I didn’t
have any classes together for the rest of the day. We had already compared our schedules over the weekend. I knew most of the kids in my classes, but they didn’t seem to recognize me. The guys looked me over with interest, the girls with curiosity, at least until my name was called for attendance. Then people really looked at me. They stared and whispered. Awkward. My attempt at “normal” didn’t seem to be working out this year. With each ensuing class, I shrank deeper and deeper into my seat, hoping to get the day over as fast as possible. I practically ran from my Physics class. I headed out the door and planned to keep walking until I walked through my front door, but something turned me toward the quad, where everyone hung out for lunch. It made me pause enough to rethink my situation.

Dad would probably make me see the shrink if I skipped school today. With a resigned sigh, I changed my mind and decided to stake out the usual table Ruthie and I liked, near a large maple tree. I was early and the tables were still unoccupied, so I thought I could “lose it” for a second without anyone noticing. I slammed down on the bench and leaned over onto the table.

“Freakin’ stupid school!” I exclaimed into my arms.

“Wow. And the day’s only half over,” said a low voice.

There was that feeling again, like a warm current of air on a cold day. Now I knew exactly where it was coming from. I sat up straight and glared toward the tree trunk. Sure enough, someone was lounging at its base, backpack next to him. He crunched into an apple. Great. A witness to my latest meltdown. Thank goodness I hadn’t started crying. The guy stood up, out of the shade, and took two strides to my table, sitting down next to me with his body pointing away from the table, elbows on the table behind him.

Okay. As bugged as I was that he had eavesdropped on my misery, there was no stopping the sudden thumping of my heart as I took inventory; I seemed helpless to do anything else at that moment.

Dark chestnut hair and blue eyes,
dark
blue eyes. His hair was thick and just long enough to curl at the ends, flipping up near the part on the side of his head. His straight nose, only marred by the slightest bump, ended at a masculine point over—can I just say—the most perfect mouth, the type of mouth you see on Greek statues. A wave of familiarity swept over me. Had we met before? Oh man, it was probably last year when I was so out of it.

“Sorry if I scared you.” He was starting to look concerned. Not him, too, I thought angrily.

“Oh, yeah. No—no, you…uh…just surprised me, that’s all,” I stuttered. He reciprocated with a deep chuckle and held out his hand.

“Zander. You?”

I offered my hand automatically. As our palms touched, a warm, humming sensation enveloped my arm. It reminded me how I felt when petting a purring cat. He looked just as surprised as I did. We released our hands quickly.

“Whoa. Must be some kind of static shock or something. Sorry. I’m Tru. Are you new here?” He stared at me more intently than before, like he was trying to decide whether or not to reply. Could my day get any weirder? I wondered. Homeschooling was starting to sound good.

I was fairly sure I’d never seen him before. He looked like a senior, with his shadowy jaw. Yes, he shaved, and without any nicks like half the population around here. His neck was corded with muscle, although he didn’t look steroid-bulky, more athletic and healthy.

He finally seemed to come to a decision. “Yeah. Moved here at the end of summer.”

“Really? Senior?”

“I wish. My parents pulled me out of school last year so much, I have to retake my classes.” He leaned closer. “So I’m probably the oldest junior here.”

“Actually—“ I started to say.

Just then, Ruthie called out, “Hey, you got here fast!” She was followed by Isaac and Phoebe. They spread out around the circular table and looked questioningly at Zander.

“Oh, hi guys. Yeah, my, uh, class got out a little early.” Like I was going to tell them I ran out of class to cry like a baby. I shot Zander a surreptitious glance, hoping he wouldn’t mention my little table tantrum. He raised an eyebrow at me, but said nothing.

I gestured toward my new acquaintance. “This is Zander. He’s new this year.” Zander gave Phoebe and Isaac that assessing look he had given me. Isaac seemed to dislike him on sight. Phoebe gave him the tilted-head half-smile look, aka the “come hither” look. So obvious, I thought. But I couldn’t blame her. And I wouldn’t blame him for falling for it—she was just as beautiful as he was.

“Cool! We need some fresh blood here at our table,” said Ruthie, drinking in every inch of him. I could almost read her mind. She was in heaven. Two gorgeous guys at our lunch table. We’d really stepped up in the world. Ruthie was going to have to swat away the girls who would soon be flocking our way.

Here we go
, I thought as a giggling squad of girls sashayed past our table, their eyes trying to catch those of both Isaac and Zander, who were still squaring off. I was surprised to see two old friends from my old basketball team, but they totally ignored me. I had to admit it hurt a little, but I reminded myself that I probably did the same thing to them last year.

Then the moment passed, and after one of those guy nods, Isaac ignored Zander and turned his big brown eyes on me. “So how are your classes so far? Did you get Mrs. Tisdale for English?”

Having his total focus on me made me feel conspicuous. He seemed to be ignoring everyone else, and there was just so much of him. It reminded me of earlier when he sang to me, and remembering my reaction made my cheeks heat up again, especially since Zander was watching, a slight scowl on his face. Why should I feel embarrassed? Any girl would be into Isaac, right? Why did I feel guilty suddenly?

I decided to ignore the first question—I had nothing good to say about my classes so far, and I didn’t want to complain, yet. I would unload it all on Ruthie later.

“No, I’ve got Mr. Mac.” That’s what we called him; his name was actually Macintosh. He was Scottish, with the cool accent and everything. I loved to hear him read out loud. And he happened to be pretty good-looking, for a teacher. Girls were known to stare at him throughout the entire class, especially when he read Shakespeare. He gave off an Ewan McGregor vibe with the whole accent and good looks thing. He got pretty frustrated sometimes because he had to repeat himself all the time. Personally, I thought it was entertaining.

“No kidding,” Zander piped in. “I’ve got him too, seventh period.” He did seem like a nice guy. Most guys would have run the other way from a girl on the verge of a breakdown.

“Oh, cool,” I said, smiling. Perhaps if he never found out how weird I was last year, he’d actually keep talking to me.

“Let me see your schedule, Tru. Maybe we have something together, too.” Isaac scooted closer, tipping the table as he adjusted his weight.

Zander frowned, then stood up. “Gotta run. I’m supposed to meet with my counselor about some paperwork. I’ll see you in English, Tru.”

“Sure. See you then.” I watched him as he stepped back to the tree to snag his backpack. He hesitated there, turning back to us, like he was rethinking his actions. But with a tightening of his jaw, he twisted away and loped off across the pod. I felt a strange desire to follow him. My heart squeezed and I had to make myself breathe slowly. I was so messed up!

All three of us girls watched him, enjoying the view.

“Nice…” drawled Phoebe. My heart tightened uncomfortably at their slack jaws. Then I saw Phoebe glance quickly over at Isaac, who was scowling. She rolled her eyes as if he’d said something annoying.

“Okay, let’s all get our schedules out and compare,” suggested Phoebe.

As it turned out, I had a class with each of them. First period with Ruthie for Algebra II, fifth period with Isaac for drama, and sixth period with Phoebe for PE. Originally, I had been peeved to be stuck in drama, which was way out of my comfort zone, but knowing Isaac would be there with me took away some of the sting. At least I’d know someone who would talk to me in all of my afternoon classes. And maybe I could figure out what bothered me about him. Ruthie and Isaac had two classes together already, but only World Civilization with Phoebe.

By the time lunch was over, several guys had stopped by to chat with Phoebe, and just as many girls had hit on Isaac. I wasn’t surprised, but it was getting old really fast. Ruthie also caught up with some old acquaintances. Fortunately, Isaac kept me from feeling like a total pariah. I couldn’t help but give him points for that.

Ruthie and I were dumping our trash when Val Johnson, Ruthie’s first ever boyfriend back in middle school, stopped by to ask her about her classes. Despite my personal prediction that he would turn into a class nerd (which I’d told Ruthie to console her after they broke up in eighth grade), he’d become a school jock, and turned out pretty smokin’ hot himself. Unfortunately, it came with a typical jock personality. Ruthie didn’t seem to mind, though. She gave me the “I’ll catch up with you later” look. So I waved good-bye and took off to my locker to get my stuff for drama.

“Hey, don’t forget me!” called Isaac.

I’d already forgotten we had the next class together. To be honest, I was wondering about Zander and his deep blue eyes. Isaac was being really nice to me, and there I was zoning off about another boy.

“Sorry. I have to stop by my locker first.”

“No worries. I’ll walk with you!”

“Thanks,” I said, smiling up at him. How shallow was I to feel this awesome about walking to class with a guy who looked like a beach model?

Hormones

As our drama teacher
went over the classroom rules, I had to keep my hand over my mouth so that I didn’t burst out giggling. Isaac mimicked the teacher with amazing accuracy. If he didn’t go anywhere with his singing, he definitely had a career in acting. But apparently, the rest of the class wasn’t as talented. Their reactions eventually tipped off the teacher.

“Mr. Efoti, I’m glad to see that you are such a natural entertainer.” Mr. Romano peered at us, a small smile on his lips. “Perhaps you can put that charm to good use and begin our game of charades.”

Thankfully, Mr. Romano wasn’t angry and seemed to know how to handle Isaac’s playfulness. The rest of the period showed us who the real hams were in the class. I was
not
one of them, and thankfully the bell rang before my turn arrived.

As I started to rise, Isaac, who was already standing, blocked me by crouching down beside my desk. His face was so close to mine I could see every eyelash surrounding his golden brown eyes. He smelled woodsy and minty.

“Tru, uh, I just wanted to say that I’m glad you’re back to normal this year.”

I felt my face heat up, remembering last year. Isaac quickly backpedaled.

“I know it was awful and everything, about your mom, but I’m just glad to see you smiling again.”

I thought he was very sweet to say so, but I really did
not
want to talk about my mom or my horrible existence last year. So I just pasted on a smile and said, “Life sucks sometimes, but eventually you move on.”

That’s what my dad said to me, and even though I did not feel like I was
over it
, I agreed that I had to move on. One corner of Isaac’s mouth turned up, and he grabbed my hand and squeezed.

“I’ve gotta get over to Mr. Dao’s class,” he said. It was on the other side of campus. “But I’ll see you after school!”

I shook my head with bemusement as I watched him stride away. Students and teachers alike moved out of his way, his sheer size bringing out their sense of self-preservation. Top that off with his soft brown skin, sun-kissed hair, and rippling muscles—well, I was surprised he didn’t have a crowd of groupies pursuing him yet. But it was just the first day of school, and I knew it was only a matter of time.

My thoughts strayed to Zander as I headed to my next class. Although he wasn’t the hulking hotness that Isaac was, he was sure to attract his own “whore horde,” which is what Ruthie called the girl packs who hung out at guys’ lockers and followed them everywhere.

PE wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. Phoebe sat beside me on the gym bleachers as we listened to the teacher make her first-day-of-class speech, followed by locker assignments. Although we weren’t friends, she didn’t treat me like a plague victim like the other kids. I dared to think we could even be friends.

Evidently, if Phoebe Efoti could stand sitting by
me
, then I must not be too bad. Most of the other girls eyed Phoebe warily, almost like they were scared of her. Perhaps that’s why she sat with me. We both seemed to be outsiders. I could see why Phoebe put them off. She was almost too confident and had little patience for idiots, demonstrated by the number of times she laughed at the questions. Admittedly, they were lame, but she certainly wasn’t winning any friends by pointing that out.

We were finally left to our own conversations while the teacher handed out locker numbers. I was desperately trying to think of something to say to Phoebe, when Brianna, a girl I knew from middle school, sat down next to us.

“Tru, I love what you did with your hair this year! Where do you get it highlighted?”

When I said it wasn’t highlighted, several other girls joined in to tell me how lucky I was. They went on about how their hair was too frizzy, too straight, wouldn’t curl, and so on. Girl talk. And that was it—last year was forgotten. Go figure.

I saw Phoebe rolling her eyes and pulled her into the conversation, asking her how it was possible she had such straight hair when Isaac’s was so curly. All the other girls looked enviously at her ebony curtain. Phoebe actually took the bait and explained that they each got one of their parent’s hair types.

But when the girls started asking questions about Isaac, talking about him as if he were some rock star, Phoebe rolled her eyes again and shut up. So the conversation moved back to hair and what kind of shampoo everyone used. Honestly, even though Phoebe looked bored, it was nice that everyone wasn’t ignoring me or talking about me behind their hands.

By the time my last class arrived, the day had taken a bizarrely positive turn, and my heart felt light as I walked into Mr. Mac’s English class. I caught Zander’s eye immediately. There was an empty desk next to him. I headed toward the back of the class where he was sitting, but Zena Taylor, wearing a skirt attempting to redefine “mini” as “micro” and a low-cut blouse, slipped into the chair ahead of me, which said a lot for her dexterity because her platform heels were at least five inches. As much as I disliked her, I couldn’t help admire the way she got around without killing herself. She immediately leaned toward Zander, ignoring me standing in front of her. A few pens toppled to the floor as several guys pretended to retrieve them all just to get a peek up Zena’s skirt. Disgust tightened my lips even as an embarrassed blush spread across my cheeks. Meanwhile, Zena didn’t seem to notice them. She was too busy giving Zander another kind of peep show.

“Hi! You’re new here.” She cast a sultry look toward him, held out her hand to Zander, and then started reeling him in.

“Welcome to Scotts Valley High,” she said in her best kitten voice. He shook her hand politely, although it seemed to take an absurd amount of time for his gaze to reach her face.
That ought to teach me
. Boys were all the same.

I cleared my throat, tempted to tell them to get a room. Zena didn’t acknowledge me in any way. She just dug her heels in and whipped her long brown hair over her shoulder with the hand that wasn’t clinging to Zander’s. Her eyelashes dipped in appreciation as she tilted toward him, almost drooling. I needed a vomit bag.
Maybe I should retreat down the aisle and find another way past them
, I thought.
I should have known Zena would be in this class.
It had all been too perfect.

Okay, everyone has an enemy, and although I wouldn’t exactly call her my arch-nemesis, she was definitely on my list of least favorite people. She and her groupies had bullied Ruthie and me all through middle school. Basically, every bad memory of those awkward years involved Zena Taylor, the self-proclaimed gift to Scotts Valley. Gag! I told myself she couldn’t help it. What chance did you have with her parents? They were the biggest snobs in town.

However, I loathed any time Zena and her entourage crossed over into my sphere of school. How did she get into this class anyway? Then I remembered that it wasn’t AP Lit like I normally would have taken. The school counselor thought I shouldn’t push myself with AP classes this year, which meant I was stuck with Zena and her stupid cheerleader friends.

But right now, I felt more peeved that she was sitting next to my blue-eyed guy from lunch, whose introduction had seemed to turn my terrible day around—until now. My distaste must have been visible. Zander’s hand was still held captive by Zena, but he was looking at me questioningly, a guilty redness stinging his face. I blinked. Where had this possessiveness come from? Who was I to claim his attention? He looked more like Zena’s type anyway—gorgeous. Hoping that I looked indifferent, I smoothed my features and shoved my way over to the aisle on his other side. There was an open seat toward the back. As I tried to squeeze through the narrow aisle, my arm brushed up against him. We both jumped a little from the contact, and he finally escaped Zena’s grip. There was that warm hum again. It was not static electricity, but it seemed to cause the same reaction.

“Oh, sorry,” I muttered and quickly found my seat. What was wrong with me? Zander’s head was twisted around toward me when I settled in and looked up. Next to him, Zena was giving me an “artful” finger gesture behind her back. Whatever. At least Zander didn’t seem mad. Actually, one corner of his mouth tilted up, which gave me fluttery heart spasms. He was
really
good-looking, I thought.

Aghh! Seriously, what was wrong with me? Had I reached some weird teen hormone stage where I reacted this way to every good-looking guy? I shook my head. I looked over the class. There must be another hunky guy here for me to get flustered about. I spotted Hugh Lawson off to my right. He wore his blond hair overly long, curling around his neck and ears. And he had the cutest freckles over his tanned face. His sky blue eyes and thick eyelashes were the talk of many girls, and I’d seen quite a few comments about him written on the stalls of the girls’ bathrooms, which automatically had me glancing down at his butt. I wrenched my eyes back up to his face and gasped. He was looking back at me! He saw me looking at his butt! My face flushed with embarrassment. He did that head nod thing guys do that seemed to say, “Hey, babe. Yeah, come and get me.” Oh my gosh! I quickly turned away.
Okay. No attraction for me there
.

Looking up, I saw Zander glancing between Hugh and me. He caught my eye and tilted his head. When he raised his eyebrow, I knew he was wondering if there was something between Hugh and me. What did he care, anyway? He had just been ogling Zena. Still, I didn’t want him or anyone to think I had some crush on Hugh. Flushing again, I shook my head, wanting to bury it in my arms again. Instead, I tried for indifference by pulling out my pen and notebook.

The teacher called everyone’s eyes to the front of the room, and Zander faced forward for the rest of class. I tried to focus on Mr. Mac, but my eyes kept straying to Zander and Zena (their names even sounded good together!). She attempted to talk with him throughout class, but he didn’t seem to hear her. Was he intentionally ignoring her? If so, then he was a better judge of character than the rest of the guys here. Still, I doubted. She always seemed to get what she wanted. Zena Taylor was treated like royalty in this town. She was related to several Hollywood actors. Although her parents were not famous themselves, around here being related was just as good.

Partway through the lecture, I noticed Zander peeking back at me. I couldn’t help it. I swung my eyeballs between Zena and him, tilted my own head, and gave him the eyebrow question he’d sent my way earlier. He ducked his head and I saw his shoulders shaking. He quickly caught my eye again, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes. With the smallest shake of his head, he let me know he wasn’t into Zena’s scheming. A tiny smile curled up my cheeks as my heart unclenched.

After that, Mr. Mac’s Scottish accent quickly enthralled the class, me included. I was excited to learn that we had some Shakespeare on the syllabus—
Romeo and Juliet
, which was one of my favorites. Zena raised her hand to ask if we could see a Romeo and Juliet movie because she wanted to recommend her uncle’s performance currently on DVD. I rolled my eyes. I tuned out her sickly sweet voice and let my gaze wander back to Zander. He was looking at something outside the classroom windows. I tried to see what had caught his attention. For the briefest second I thought I saw a blond man all dressed in army-style camouflage clothes standing next to the edge of trees. I blinked and he was gone. Zander was again looking to the front of class. Was it my imagination, or did I just see G.I. Joe and Zander looking at each other? It was so far-fetched, I dismissed the notion immediately.

When class finished, Zander zipped out before I, or even Zena, could catch up to him. I sighed and headed to my locker, where Ruthie said she’d meet me after school.

Ruthie was on time, waiting for me at my locker, but she was with someone—Val, her old boyfriend. He looked like he was bringing back the past in a big way. He had her pushed up against the lockers, trapped between his arms. And Ruthie, well, she looked as happy as a kitty in a field of catnip.

I cleared my throat and said, “You are
so
not doing that on my locker.”

Val dropped one arm and tried his leer on me. “What? You want some of me, too?”

Well, that did it for Ruthie. She pushed him away and attempted a look of disgust. But I could tell she was into him.

“Need a little help, ladies?” a deep voice sounded behind me. Isaac. He slipped an arm around my shoulders. “Is Valley Girl Val messing with you?” he teased, adding a playful punch on Val’s arm. Val winced.

“Hey, Steroid Boy, no need to referee! Ruthie and I were just talking!” He pushed ineffectively at Isaac, which was amusing because Val had it going on in the whole muscle department. How did I know that? Everyone knew since most guys on the football team stripped to their waist after practice and strutted around like peacocks. Val sized up Isaac like he had never seen him before, reluctant respect glinting in his eyes.

I just wanted in my locker, and since Ruthie had moved over, I proceeded to repack my backpack with homework.

“Ha ha, Isaac.” Ruthie turned back to Val. “I gotta be home when my brothers get out of school, so I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

Since she was giving me a ride home, I hurried up, glancing distractedly at Val and Ruthie. With a heavy-lidded look thrown over his shoulder, Val took off, immediately yelling at some other guy down the walkway. First day of school was always crazier than normal. And the campus reflected that with kids darting here and there, jammering on about summers and classes, who was who, and sneaking up on each other. Give them a couple weeks of homework, and the exciting atmosphere of the first day would transform to a moody silence broken by locker slams and squeaky sneakers. Okay, that was a little pessimistic, but so true.