my name.”
I looked around once more before I started walking again. I noticed now that several other students were watching me. Some of their expressions were curious, while others were just plain jealous. It must’ve been rare for Camilla and her friends to associate with someone as young as me.
I ignored their stares and kept walking, but stopped when I spotted Victoria.
So she was here.
She was walking into one of the classrooms and ours eyes met for just a moment.
I saw several emotions flit across her face and likewise in my mind for I somehow knew what she was thinking. One emotion seemed to be more pronounced than the others: sorrow. I got the distinct impression that she was sorry for how she’d treated me yesterday. I didn’t have much time to ponder this, however, because Nyssa had just pulled me into a different classroom than the one Victoria had entered.
CHAPTER FIVE
For the first time today I found myself wondering what grade Victoria was in. I couldn’t believe that I hadn’t bothered to ask her. I wondered if Camilla knew, or cared for that matter.
Nyssa didn’t relinquish my hand until we were fully in the classroom which was actually more of an auditorium.
I started walking toward the seats in the back and Camilla and her friends followed.
When I sat down, Nyssa took a seat at my right while Camilla sat at my left. Stephanie and Lindsey had to bully a couple of their classmates in order sit down next to Camilla.
I leaned back in my seat. Not having any pens or paper I wasn’t going to be taking many notes. Not that I would have anyway—even if I had the proper materials. Nyssa had her pen and paper ready moments after she sat down. At first I thought she was preparing to take some notes, but after a significant glance in my direction I knew that she was writing something for me.
I bent forward and glanced at her paper. A small smile passed over my face when I read what she’d written.
Do you like Camilla?
I wondered what it was to her if I did or not. I shrugged and leaned back in my seat. Then, inspiration struck. I held out my hand for her pen and, grinning broadly, she gave it to me.
I would have to be casual about how I worded this. I definitely didn’t want to send out the wrong impression—but how to ask? It took me only a second to decide before writing my question.
Do you know what grade Alexander Seraph's daughter is in?
Nyssa frowned then scribbled, twelfth.
So Mr. Seraph wanted me in the same grade as his daughter.
But why?
I highly doubted he was trying to play matchmaker?
Nyssa was writing something again.
Do you have a cell?
I thought about the mysterious cell phone I’d found then scribbled:
Still in my room.
Text me when you get it.
Next to that was her number.
Girl wasn’t wasting any time.
Ok.
No sooner had I scribbled down my reply when Camilla whispered in my ear.
“Here’s mine, too.”
I felt her take my hand and gently write something on my palm. I whipped around, sure that Camilla would have something to say about my peculiar palm lines. But if she thought them odd she didn’t voice it; in fact, she acted as though she couldn’t see the knot at all. When she was finished writing her number, I stared at my palm while she pulled out her cell phone. Some of the numbers were overlapping the palm lines, making them nearly impossible to see.
Camilla held up her camera to my face and I knew she was about to take my picture. I threw my hand up playfully just as she took the picture. She giggled and showed me the photo. What I saw nearly caused my eyes to shoot out of their sockets: the hand I had thrown up was the very same hand that Camilla had written her number upon but in the snapshot my palm had only her number on it and nothing else.
What did this mean?
I looked at my palms: both knots were still there. I looked at the photo again.
“Something wrong?” Camilla asked in a worried tone.
My puzzlement must have been evident on my face.
“It’s nothing,” I lied smoothly.
I suppose I could have told her the truth, but Camilla didn’t come off as a trustworthy person.
CHAPTER SIX
I spent the rest of class putting up with Camilla’s and Nyssa’s flirting. Both girls took several snapshots of me with their phones and so did Stephanie and Lindsey. I was relieved when the school bell finally rang. Unfortunately the next class wasn’t much different—more flirting—with a touch of aggression this time.
I was glad that these girls loved to gossip because that meant I didn’t have to say very much. A nod or shrug here and there was perfect for me. Before I knew it, lunch had arrived.
When I entered the cafeteria with Camilla and her friends, I noticed the social hierarchy at once—even though we were all in uniforms.
Being raised in the highest echelons of society made spotting the separation of classes obvious to my eyes. The school was separated into two groups: upper and middle class. Middle class took up the majority. And truthfully I didn’t see too many that I would call upper class. I also took a moment to observe the many different cliques of the school. There were the jocks. Among them was Jason Cole giving me the evil eye.
So Jason was a jock.
I wondered what sport he played. I couldn’t make out what sports any of them played actually, but the bigger ones looked like they might play football. There were a lot of social outcasts. They were easy to spot because they were trying their best to keep from drawing attention to themselves. Then there was the popular crowd; it was clear that this was where I was. It was hard to miss all of the jealous stares being sent my way. Many were boys who were evidently crushed that Camilla and their friends were interested in me and not them, but there were more than a few disappointed girls.
I wish I could see what everyone else saw. I mean, I wasn’t that good looking.
After getting my food, I took a seat at an open table in the center of the cafeteria. Camilla and her friends sat down around me and started gossiping again. Resting my head on my palm I didn’t bother listening to the conservation.
Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck began to rise and I knew my earlier observer was getting close. I stared at the cafeteria entrance casually but intently so the others wouldn’t notice.
People were flooding into
