CHAPTER Two
Four tears. I counted them. I only let four escape, which was pretty good considering the circumstances.
I left my suitcase outside and prayed it wouldn’t get stolen or run over or anything, and took the box from my grandma into the building with me.
My purse kept banging against the box, making the contents shift inside. I tried to put everything in one hand in order to use my finger to look at the map of the place. The United States room was on the third floor in the right wing.
Great. Stairs.
I looked around for an elevator but didn’t see a sign or even a place to put one. Blowing the hair out of my face, I jimmied the door open to the stairs and made my very slow ascent to the third floor.
By the time I reached the third floor door I knew three things. One, I was horribly out of shape. Two, I should have eaten something this morning, and three, apparently I was the only one checking in right now. I didn’t see anyone else, which was weird. But then again, maybe they were already in their rooms.
I jerked the door open, again balancing everything in one hand, and walked down the hall to the right wing.
The door to the stairs slammed behind me, and slowly people began trickling out of their rooms. Girls who looked more like my Barbie than a real person openly stared at me. Some cursed in my direction, and others just smirked as if they knew a giant secret that I didn’t.
I kept my eyes focused ahead of me even though I knew I looked a mess. I was sweating, my hair was falling all over my dripping face, and my hands kept slipping on the box.
Finally, I saw the end of the hall and a sign that said The United States.
“Thank God,” I whispered under my breath.
I placed the box on the floor and dropped my purse next to it.
The girls had yet to say one word to me unless it was derogatory, and now they were watching me as if something terrible was about to happen.
Dear God please don’t let there be some scary clown hiding in my closet. I’d probably jump out the window and kill myself in the process.
I reached for the door and turned the handle. Nothing happened.
I pushed against it.
Again, nothing happened.
Finally, I used all the strength I had left in me and slammed my body against the door. It flew open before my body made full contact, sending me sailing onto the floor.
My head landed smack onto a pair of shiny expensive boots. Boy boots to be exact. I hated those boots, because for some reason I knew that they had to belong to a boy. And if any boy was waiting in my room, it had to be one of the Elect trying to make my life hell.
Speaking of, how in the heck did they make it up here so fast?
Girls giggled as I slowly pushed myself to my knees and looked up into Nixon’s perfect face.
Of course it was Nixon.
He offered his hand, but right before I took it, he put on a glove.
“Germs, you understand.” He winked.
Maybe it was because I was tired. Maybe it was because I was going insane with stress, but instead of taking his hand, I slapped it away and got to my feet on my own.
People gasped behind me.
Muscles twitched in Nixon’s jaw. “Leave us,” he barked.
The sound of doors slamming down the hall may as well have been nails in my social coffin. One, two, three, six… I closed my eyes and waited.
My door was the final one to close, but I hadn’t done the deed. No it was Nixon, and now he was behind me.
“You don’t like rules, do you, New Girl?” he whispered in my ear. He wasn’t touching me, but my body shivered involuntarily anyways. Treacherous hormones.
“There is one, final, rule.” Nixon moved from behind me and was now standing a foot away from me.
“What?” My voice sounded braver than I was feeling.
He closed the distance between us. I backed up, he pursued.
The cool metal door met my back making me shiver. My sweat had run cold and now I was completely terrified.
“You earn the right to use what we have. The elevators are locked. The Elect have copies of the key card. The pools, the weight rooms — everything you have access to, even your food — has a key card.”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blue key card and dangled it in front of me. “Say thank you.”
“For what?” I would not cry. I would not cry!
“Allowing you to eat, of course.”
“What?”
“I’m not finished talking,” he said smoothly. “This key card gains you access into the elevator only once a week. It also gains you access into the cafeteria, twice a day. Not three times. We don’t want you gaining weight. Use it wisely and if you impress me with your ability to follow directions. I may just up your freedom. Until then…” He shrugged and cleared his throat. “Move aside.”
I couldn’t move. It felt like a nightmare. Who the hell was this guy, and seriously, who made him the president of the school? I was afraid to talk to anyone. Afraid to do anything except stand there and stare at the card in my hand. It said E. E., but it may as well have said Nixon’s.
“Move aside,” Nixon repeated, this time his teeth were clenched together. I jerked up my head and looked at him. I mean, really looked at him. His eyes were a crystal blue, like the fires of hell had frozen over and the ice staring back at me was the result of orange flames dying slowly. His entire face was symmetrically perfect. As if some famous supermodel and actor decided they should create a love child and programmed perfection in a computer. His hair fell over his forehead haphazardly.
Nixon slammed his hand on the door above my head.
Okay, that was it.
I could take someone talking down to me. I could take someone making fun of me… I mean, hello? I knew I wasn’t anything important, but for someone to threaten me with violence? To my face? Especially some guy souped up on steroids? Hell. No.
Something snapped. I pushed against his chest. He stumbled backward, the look on his face changed from complete anger to disbelief.
“Did you just touch me?”
“You threatened me.”
“I threaten everyone.”
“Then you’re a bully.”
He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again. A wicked smile played across his lips. “So you wanted to touch me?”
“No, I want you to leave me the hell alone.”
“Say please.”
“Please?” I begged looking directly into the depths of his soulless eyes.
“Hell. No,” he whispered and then moved past me and jerked open the door. A girl was waiting outside. He backed into my room and slammed the door again.
“I thought you were leaving.”
“Change of plans,” he muttered and then went over to the window and flung it open.
“What, you’re going to shimmy down the drain pipe?” I joked nervously. If this guy stayed any longer in here I was going to kill him myself.
“Nixon, open the damn door!” the girl screamed from the other side.
He laughed and stepped out of the window onto the ledge.
“Are you insane?” I yelled at him and grabbed his shirt. I would not be witness to his death, even as deserving as it may be.
“Hands off,” he barked, and then he was flying through the air. Holy hell, I’ve made him commit suicide.
“Nixon!” I yelled and looked over the ledge. On the grass, was a giant blown up tarp. Nixon landed on his back and then jumped off of it. He blew me a kiss and jogged off. Several tents and tarps were set up outside the dorm. It almost looked like a carnival.
The girl was still banging on my door. I rushed over to open it. She breezed past me. “That son of a bitch!” she yelled out the window. “Nixon, I swear I’m going to kill you when I see you!”
“I like you,” I said out loud.
“Did he hurt you?” The girl swallowed nervously and examined me head to toe, looking at my neck, and my arms.
“Um, no?”
“He’s the spawn of Satan,” she grumbled.
“And you are?”
She grinned and held out her hand. “Monroe. I’m Satan’s sister.”