Under My Skin (7 page)

The long line started way back at the dessert coolers, which was fine by me. I loaded my tray with goodies.

“I hate you,” Brit said, eyeing my chocolate pudding, donut, and huge brownie. “How do you stay thin, eating like that? I’ve been on a diet since fifth grade. Have you seen me in shorts?” She pinched her thighs. “I’ve so-o-o got to get rid of these.”

“I’m sure it’ll catch up with me someday.” I shrugged and shuffled forward as the line advanced. “Oh, look.” I skipped toward the steaming grill behind the coolers. “Cheeseburgers!” My hollow stomach rumbled. Hmm…maybe I had been eating more than usual. Please, not another growth spurt.

All eyes were on us as we weaved through chairs to find a table along a row of windows. I plastered on a fake smile. Shouldn’t there be a time limit for staring at the new girl? We plopped down our trays, and, between my rabid bites of greasy burgers, the crowd went on to inspect some other poor schmuck who thought legwarmers really had made a comeback. I quizzed Brit about everything to do with Redgrave, except its paranormal badness.

“No, we don’t have a recycling program and, yes, I think we need one.” Brit rolled her eyes. “Would you stop trying to distract me?” She drowned a fry in the mountain of ketchup she’d poured on her cafeteria tray and became very businesslike as she fired out the details. “I thought you’d want to know all about the Redgrave situation after last night’s close call.
We
thought you’d be eager to get more field experience. Banish a few weres. Wage a few battles.”

“Not really,” I hedged. “I’m trying to cut down.”

Brit laughed as she drenched another fry. “Guess what? Diets don’t work. You can’t quit cold turkey. It’s a lifestyle thing.”

I laughed. Giving up hunting wasn’t quite like cutting back on carbs, but I appreciated the comparison. I mashed my fork down into a brownie square, flattening it. Alec’s concern about the number of weres being created was valid, and I could see why he might have asked Brit to approach me, but I was in no position to help.

“Someone has to be controlling the werewolves.” Brit’s tone shifted from flippant to full-on military briefing. I liked her better when she was being all sarcastic rather than inundating me with facts as if I were already a part of the crew. “Only a strong paranorm could control a pack of werewolves. There are too many for these to be rogues. They weren’t the victims of a random biter. They’re a pack. We could use a hand tracking them down.”

I ignored her last comment and removed a slimy pickle from my third burger. “I don’t know. You guys seem like a pretty tight team. I’m sure you can handle it.” I shrugged as if I’d lost interest and groped for a change of subject. Wade’s sculpted features flashed through my mind. “Now, why don’t you give me some information that might help me out?”

Brit cocked a brow.

“Wade details. I want them all. Where does he hang out? How old is he? What about girls?” I asked.

Brit choked on her drink. “Oh, he’s into girls. You thought he was gay? Wade might be a lot of things, but gay isn’t one of them.”

I sighed. After the hard flirting we’d done in physics class, I was pretty sure Wade was interested in more than being my shopping buddy. “No, I meant, what about girlfriends?”

Brit shook her head. “Haven’t you heard a thing I’ve been saying? Wade’s our top suspect.” At my pleading look, Brit sighed. “Okay, I give. He goes out with a girl for a few dates, and that’s it. He hasn’t had a steady relationship, and he hates girls who cling.” She paused. “Especially Paige. She’s always trying to latch her tentacles around him. They went out for like a minute last year. She barely survived when he brushed her off. She’s been psycho ever since.”

“Paige McCain?” I asked, but I already knew the answer.

“The one and only.” Brit slurped the last of her drink and then shot me a questioning glance. “You know her?”

“Unfortunately.” I shared a bathroom with her every morning—I expected the toilet to be booby-trapped every time I used it. Paige wasn’t the sharing sort. “So you’re saying you think Wade’s a paranorm because he dates a lot?” I shook my head. “Sorry, first you warn me off Alec, and then you end up being one of his hunting crew. THEN you warn me off Wade, because he’s good looking and all the girls like him. Do you see my hesitation here?”

Brit blinked at me. “There’s more to it than that.”

“Oh, I’m sure there is, but you know what, Brit?” I stole one of her cold fries. “I don’t want to know. Last night was last night. A onetime thing. I’ve got other things I’m dealing with.” I looked over Brit’s shoulder and winced as I spotted Paige headed in our direction. Coming to the cafeteria had been a mistake. I hid my face behind a napkin.

“Uh… What are you doing?”

“Shhhh.” I lowered the napkin so I could peek over it. “She’s coming this way.”

“Who?” Brit craned her neck.

“Paige,” I rasped. “I don’t want her to see me. I do not feel like sparring with Rose Harry’s baby at the moment.”

“Huh?”

“Haven’t you ever seen that old horror film? A woman gives birth to this demon/child thing. Anyway, that’s my cousin, Paige, remember her? You were saying how nice and psycho she is.”

I peeked around my napkin. Paige glided down the aisle with all the attitude of a red-carpet diva, accompanied by two cookie-cutter friends, equally blonde and perky. They followed a step behind Paige like good little peons should. I ducked back behind the napkin and spun it in different directions to get the most face-hiding coverage.

I stared at the floor, horrified, as a trio of cute shoes (shoes I could never wear because what was cute in a size six was fashion blasphemy in a size ten) cat-walked up the aisle and stopped at our table.

Brit cleared her throat, so I lowered my napkin and said, “You know, Brit, you’re right. These really are made of recycled paper.” I handed it to her. “There’s a little doohickey stamp on each one. It’s barely visible.”

Brit contemplated the napkin while Paige and her groupies regarded us with loathing. Unless the sneers on their faces were supposed to be model-like pouts. Better yet, it could have been gas. I sucked back a snort of laughter. This was one cluster of girls I wouldn’t try too hard to save from a perfectly good werewolf munching.

“Oh, Paige, how great to see you here.” I tried to ignore Brit, who let me know what she thought of my recycling cover story by wiping her nose with the napkin, before crumpling it and tossing it over her shoulder.

I rested my arm along the back of the chair next to me and acted as if the possibility of running into Paige, at the school we both attended, had never occurred to me and wasn’t one of the reasons I’d avoided the cafeteria until now.

“Brit and I were discussing the benefits of using recycled products. Fascinating stuff,” I said. “Wanna join us?” I nudged one of the empty chairs at our table with my foot, and it scraped along the floor in a noisy invitation.

“What? Are you kidding?” Paige’s face puckered. “I’m not here for a social visit, cousin.” She spit out the word as if saying it might bring on a contagious disease. “Frankly, I’m surprised you got up the nerve to eat lunch outside of the library. But since you did, I thought it only fair to warn you. You guys better stay away from my table. Don’t get any ideas. Just because we’re related doesn’t mean I have to introduce you to my friends.”

“Duh.” I snorted. “I’ve been here for a week already, Paige, and this is the first time you’ve spoken to me in public. I think I got the message.” I rolled my eyes at Brit. “Paige likes to state the obvious.” I spoke behind my hand. “She gets it from her mother.”

Brit smacked her palm on the table and let out a bark of laughter. Even Paige’s groupies snickered. Maybe they’d had Mrs. McCain for kindergarten too.

Paige shut them up with a glare.

The blondest one tried to redeem herself. She eyed my shirt. “Hey, Paige, isn’t that the top we bought at the thrift store when we were shopping for Halloween costumes? You planned to dress up like a scarecrow, remember?”

Paige gave the girl an approving smile. “Why, Michelle, you’re right. I couldn’t bring myself to wear it. I mean, eww, someone else sweated in that shirt.” She shuddered. “I was hoping no one would notice, for Eryn’s sake.” She shot me a pitying glance. “But now it’s out of the bag. You see, Eryn lost all her luggage at the airport, so she has to wear clothes I give her. Isn’t that sad? I’ll tell you all about my loser cousin when we get to our table. Everyone’s got to hear this.” She linked arms with the girls and walked away without another word.

They joined a table overflowing with half-a-dozen other girls, more like THEM, the would-be-cheerleader type. Redgrave High barely had the population for a basketball team, let alone frills such as girls bouncing around in micro-mini skirts. Paige’s brood giggled and whispered behind their hands, and, from their glances in our direction, I could tell she was filling everyone in on her woeful little cousin. Why were helpless little Dodo birds extinct while girls like that walked the earth? Seriously, they rendered the entire feminist movement moot.

I turned back to Brit. “Is it just me, or do you feel unclean?”

She grimaced. “I can’t believe you guys are related.” Her jaw dropped. “And good lord, you live with Mrs. McCain.”

“She’s my aunt.” I hastened to make the information easier to digest. “By marriage. She’s married to my father’s brother. And usually Sammi’s not that bad.”

“Sammi? She has a first name?” Brit laughed. “Isn’t it weird how you don’t think of teachers having first names? Man, I still have nightmares about her kindergarten class. I can’t imagine living with her.” Brit finished off her pudding and cleaned out the plastic container with her finger. “Why don’t you live at home with your parents?”

Ouch. Family issues. A direct hit. Good thing I was used to analysis. Otherwise I would have told Brit where to go with her probing questions and what to do when she got there. I swallowed hard. This was it. Once I said the words, there’d be weirdness. She’d feel sorry for me, I’d feel sorry for myself, and we’d slip into a pity spiral.

“My parents are dead.” I pushed my tray aside, appetite gone.

A look of sadness crossed Brit’s face. She started to speak, then stopped, and reached for her backpack.

“Then we have even more in common.” She plunked her backpack over her shoulder. “My brother died in a car crash four months ago. They found his car wrapped around a light post on Main Street at two o’clock in the morning. Wade’s father said it was a cut-and-dried case. Said Blake was driving under the influence.” Her face settled into harsh lines. “Only my brother didn’t drink. He wouldn’t, not after growing up like we did.”

I leaned back from the rage she spitballed across the table. Anger seeped from her pores and darkened her scent from its normal citrusy glow to a dank odor.

“Guess who else is in that hockey team picture I showed you? Blake, my brother. Every werewolf we take down, I think it’s going to be him.”

I sucked in a startled breath. So that’s why she’d been so devastated when Ethan turned back into his human form last night. She’d thought the beast might be her brother. I couldn’t imagine hunting under that kind of emotional turmoil.

“Brit, I’m sorry about your brother. I really am. But I don’t think my help is the kind you need right now.

“Well, I do,” Brit said simply. “And so does Alec.”

I sighed. Then snorted. “What about your boyfriend, Matt? He doesn’t want me around.”

Brit waved her hand. “You leave Matt to me. Next period, biology,” she said with false cheerfulness as if we’d been discussing the weather. “We get Mr. Riggs again—imagine a gym teacher and a bio teacher all rolled into one. Aren’t we lucky?” She picked up her tray. “He’s a real stickler about being on time. Every minute you’re late is worth ten push-ups. And the only push-ups I like are the leather corset kind you get online.” Her laughter bordered on hysteria.

Oh, this was so getting personal. Brit was in the exact same situation as I was. Both searching for the truth, both afraid of what we’d find. I knew how much she hurt. How confused and sad she felt. Wasn’t I grasping at Sebastian’s offer of help the same way Brit was grasping at me?

How could I possibly tell her I couldn’t help now?

Chapter 4:
I Was Born This Way. What’s Your Excuse?

Brit’s revelation about her brother haunted me the rest of the day. We spoke no more about it, but she expected me to join Alec’s crew. She didn’t get why I hadn’t immediately announced I was in like sin.

She didn’t know how much I had to hide.

I stewed over my current predicament on the walk home.

Sebastian had warned me to stay out of trouble and avoid paranorms. But he hadn’t said anything about paranorms finding me. I had no rules of engagement to follow. I wasn’t officially under the Council’s control, because I wasn’t officially a hunter. Could I put my parents at risk by helping Alec’s crew with Redgrave’s werewolf infestation?

Would the crew welcome me into their inner circle if they knew I was half wolven? It would be hard enough for a group of hunters to accept a full-blooded wolven in their midst, someone who could turn into a wolf at will, someone who retained certain wolfie abilities in human form—speed, agility, heightened senses, strength.