Perfect Enemies

5

I smirked. Her irritation shouldn’t have amused me as much as it did, but I couldn’t help myself. I should have been winning her over—it would have made life a hell of a lot easier—but her anger was infinitely more entertaining. I turned to my silent neighbor on the other side. “Reyna is a lovely name. Spanish, right?” She nodded. “I’m from Mexico originally.” “Really? You hardly have any accent.” The corners of her lips twitched with a small smile. “My father hired a tutor when I was young. He was insistent that I learn perfect English.” “Damn, and I thought my dad was hard on me.” “So, where are you from, Kane?” Valentina cut in, directing everyone’s attention my way. “Texas.” I loosened the ridiculous tie and unbuttoned the collar of my uniform dress shirt. “You’re going to want to leave that on, or you’ll get a dress code violation. Three strikes, and you get suspended.” My wannabe nemesis giving me advice? Interesting. I grinned and took a big bite of my calzone. Val’s eyes took another trip around the inside of her skull. “Whatever. Get in trouble, see if I care,” she muttered under her breath. Laughter stirred in my chest, but I kept it locked down. “Hey, Kane.” The voice behind me was a sultry purr I recognized immediately from chemistry class. “You should have come sit with me, silly. This crowd doesn’t know how to have any fun at all.” Harper placed a hand on my back, then motioned to a table of fake blondes, all watching raptly. “By all means,” Val encouraged. “I’m sure Harper can show you all sorts of fun.” A tiny flare of temper had me casting a glare at her. “Maybe tomorrow, Harper.” I turned my attention back to the girl behind me and painted on my most charming smile. “But thanks for the invitation. I’m good right here.” “Well, you know where to find me when you get bored.” She flung her mane of fake sun-kissed hair over her shoulder and strutted back to her minions. Everyone at the table chuckled and went back to their own conversations along with the rest of the cafeteria, which had grown suspiciously quiet during our exchange. “You should have gone,” Valentina whispered so that only I could hear. When I looked over, our eyes collided and locked in a wordless battle. A cacophony of veiled threats and murderous promises. Why was she so resistant to me? Was she so accustomed to getting her way that she couldn’t stand me refusing to concede? That wasn’t it. She’d set herself against me before we’d ever said a single word to each other. “Like I said,” I murmured back just for her ears. “I’m happy right where I am.” Without taking my eyes from hers, I snagged one of the strawberries from her fruit salad and sucked it between my lips. The muscles of her throat flexed as she swallowed. Bingo. Miss Valentina wasn’t so impervious as she insisted. Now we were getting somewhere. I turned slowly back to Reyna. “What class do you have next?” Val shot to her feet beside me. “Rey, we need to get going. I told Mr. Halcomb we’d stop by the office before the end of lunch.” She threw her half-eaten lunch back in an insulated designer bag and withdrew herself from the bench seat. Reyna hurried to comply, collecting her things with an apologetic glance. “Have a good afternoon if I don’t see you,” I said to her, earning a small smile as she paused to look at me before trailing behind the commander in chief. “Looks like we have yet another class together.” I lowered myself into the seat next to Reyna. She gave me a shy smile. “You’ll like sociology. Mrs. Wentz is a really great teacher.” “Good to hear. So far, everyone seems pretty intense.” “That’s Xavier.” “Have you gone to school here long?” I studied her discreetly, curious about the girl who was just a little different from everyone else. Was that simply my own projections or maybe a product of her introverted nature? “Only since the start of this school year.” “Is that when you moved from Mexico?” Reyna’s eyes flicked to the teacher. “Yeah.” “That had to be quite the adjustment,” I prodded. “You have no idea.” “Tell me about it. You said you had tutors?” Again, her eyes slid to the front of the room. When the teacher called our attention to start class, Reyna’s shoulders seem to sink in relief. She shot me a thin smile as though she were remiss to end our conversation, but I got the sense she felt quite the opposite. Had I come on too strong? Had her friend warned her away from me? Whatever the cause, I’d have some work to do if I was going to befriend her. I smirked when I envisioned Valentina worrying over what classes her friend and I might have together. Girls like her had to control everyone around them, and she’d hate that she was powerless to intervene during those class periods. I started to think my afternoon would be Val free until I walked into my final class of the day. Valentina sat in the back row next to the only vacant seat in the room, her dark wavy hair cascading down around her shoulders as she scrolled on her phone. I wasn’t surprised when no one sat beside her. The others were probably too terrified to go near her. Even though I wasn’t remotely intimidated, I also had no desire to intensify the headache I’d already been nursing after a full day of forced smiles and repeated conversations. Yes, I’m new. Moved from Texas. No sports. I started to squat and oust someone from their seat near the front like I had during first period, but our no-nonsense poli-sci teacher ordered me back to the vacant desk next to Valentina. I dropped down into the seat with more protest than I should have. I preferred not to give her or anyone else a window into my thoughts, but my patience had run thin. I wondered how she’d interpret my irritation. Maybe it would give her something to think about. She had probably assumed I got off on giving her a hard time, and while that wasn’t totally wrong, it also wasn’t entirely true either. My motives were my own, and for the moment, I wasn’t interested in arguing with her. I never once glanced in her direction. I could feel the weight of her stare periodically, but I didn’t give in to its tempting lure. “Who can tell me the source of this quote?” Mr. Barnard asked the class, pointing at the whiteboard. Tell me and I forget, teach me and I remember, involve me and I learn. My hand was up before I’d even considered the attention I might draw. “Mr. Easton?” “Benjamin Franklin,” I said without hesitation. I’d read that quote so many times, I could recite it in my sleep.