He nods. “Be careful.”
“Like it’s my middle name,” I promise.
When Irish Tommy gives the word, Bex and I run for it. Today I manage to make it inside catfish-free.
Shadow is already waiting for us outside Ervin’s class. He does a double-take when he sees Bex. She’s all legs and blue eyes, a high school supermodel with a dress that barely covers her butt.
“Yo,” he says just after he wipes the googly eyes off his face.
“What do you think?” she says, giving him a twirl. The beading lights up like fireworks.
He shrugs.
She growls and stomps into Ervin’s room.
“You’re not fooling anybody,” I whisper in Shadow’s ear.
He shakes his head and quietly mouths the words, “I’m fooling her.”
I can’t help but grin. He is lovestruck. I see it in the way he laughs at her jokes and how he stares when she isn’t paying attention. He looks for her when she is not nearby, and when she’s with him he smiles like my father does when my mother walks into the room. But he’s got game. This boy knows what he’s doing. He’s driving her crazy with indifference. I just wish his little plan wasn’t taking so long.
“Just tell her!” I beg.
“I’m waiting for her to tell me first,” he says, then saunters down the hall.
“I need to get caught up in some true love right now, even if I’m riding in the sidecar,” I shout to him.
Homeroom is shell-shocked—no dancing, no throwing stuff, no fronting. Everyone sits face forward, feet on the floor, quiet as houses. Deshane is missing in action, and since he is captain of the troublemakers, his crew looks adrift. Gabriel, however, is pissed. He comes in just before the bell rings and won’t even look at me. He keeps his eyes on the floor, like the meaning of life is written on his Doc Martens.
“Someone’s got the boo-boo face,” Bex says, nodding toward Gabriel.
“I sort of led him to believe he was going to get lucky last night,” I mutter.
She looks back at him and laughs. “Poor guy. Where did he take you this time?”
“A bird-crap-covered rooftop above a furniture store,” I say.
“And that wasn’t good enough? Geez, Princess Lyric! What will please you?”
I catch his eye. He scowls, then gives his attention back to his shoes. Funny, yesterday I would have been panicked about him being mad at me. Today, I’ve got bigger problems.
Mr. Ervin enters with the soldier, Luna, and, much to my surprise, Ghost. The class murmurs as the Nix struts across the room. Apparently the new kids are not going to the Tombs. Jorge growls something under his breath. I turn and see that he is wearing a Niners shirt with a black mermaid on it. There’s a slash through her body, and underneath are the words throw the fish back.
Terrance Lir enters next. He scans the room as nervously as the day before, then gestures to someone in the hall. A moment later, the prince steps into the room and stands next to his friends. He towers over them, shoulders back, perfect posture, surveying us like we’re privileged to be in his presence. Terrance whispers something in his ear, and the boy nods.
“You may go,” the prince says. Mr. Lir bows deeply and leaves, but not before he turns his head and looks right at me. Is he going to say something? I hear my father’s warning and look down at my desk, feeling ashamed. I love this man. He’s as good as family to me, and I have abandoned him. My father doesn’t trust him. That has to be good enough for me, even if it makes me feel like a jerk.
“People, we have another new addition to our class,” Mr. Ervin says.
“This is such bull,” Jorge shouts. He’s so angry, he kicks an empty desk really hard and it slams into the wall.
“Kid, shut your mouth,” the soldier barks. His hand is already on his rifle.
Mr. Ervin jumps in without missing a beat. “He calls himself Fathom and he is the son of the Alpha king, which I learned this morning is called a prime. Thus, Fathom is a prince—he’s royalty, and I have been asked to inform you that he is accustomed to a level of respect you may not give your friends.”
“Hey, prince, you suck,” Jorge shouts.
Fathom peers down the aisle at him.
Jorge laughs. “Yeah, I said it. What are you gonna do about it?”
“Son, that’s strike two,” the soldier shouts at him.
“Let’s all have a seat,” Mr. Ervin says.
Ghost and Luna slip into a couple of empty ones near the front while Fathom slides into one next to me. My heart rate multiplies, and I’m sure I’m bright red. I want to crawl under this desk and die, yet I can’t help taking quick glances at him. His hands are criss-crossed in white scars, and I can see the horrible open wound where his blades break the skin. His arms are rock hard with bulging triceps, and his face is—oh, he’s staring at me like he’s waiting for me to tell him what to do. I bury my head in my hands.
“Where’s Deshane?” Jorge asks.