Infinite Risk Read online

  “No way,” a guy muttered.

  “He likes someone else,” I added, and Kian nudged me so hard that it hurt, since I caught the elbow square the ribs. I ignored him because it was better for them to think he’d rejected me.

  “You have a boyfriend anyway,” he finally mumbled. “So it’s just as well.”

  “Wade was asking me about you,” Jake put in.

  The name sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place it. My blank look must’ve annoyed the not-Tanya girl because she said, “He’s the captain of the football team, senior, best thing ever to happen to this school.”

  “I disagree. I’m going with electricity and flush toilets. Didn’t I see a plaque that says the original building was constructed in 1912 or something?”

  “Everything was torn down,” Jake told me. “And they rebuilt in 1967.”

  I beamed at him. “I’m impressed you know that. Nothing like local history.”

  He made eye contact long enough for me to realize he was smiling a little warmer than the exchange warranted. Tanya noticed too and grabbed his hand, giving an impatient tug. “Weren’t you about to walk me to class?”

  “I … guess?” Overman seemed startled by the question, but he went along.

  When the power couple rolled out, the others followed, and Kian let out an audible sigh. “That is the closest I’ve ever been to her. Did you see how pretty her eyes are?”

  “I admit, it escaped me. She’s got great hair, though.”

  That opened the floodgates to a lot of Kian’s private paean on Tanya, and I listened until the first bell rang. “Gotta go. See you later.”

  Truthfully, it sucked more than a little hearing him wax rhapsodic over someone else. I reminded myself that romance had no part in this mission. I’d nearly persuaded myself when school let out, so I was smiling when I stepped into the hall. The contrast to Blackbriar, which was more like a private college campus, seemed especially sharp today. This school was struggling with outdated equipment, broken fixtures, and floors that needed a good scrubbing.

  “You’re new, right?” For the second time today, Jake Overman loomed over me. I could see how some girls enjoyed feeling tiny and fragile beside him, but it wasn’t my thing. “I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself earlier. Tanya was in a hurry.”

  I wasn’t great at reading people or judging intentions, but since he’d mentioned his girlfriend, this interaction didn’t seem skeevy. Maybe he’s a nice guy?

  “Chelsea Brooks,” I said. “But you can call me Nine.”

  “Yeah, I got the scoop from some assholes in my Bio 2 class. If it bothers you, I’ll call you Chelsea.”

  “No worries. Kian told me your name already.”

  “Did he?” He seemed honestly startled to be known, unusual in a school athlete. “I didn’t realize he followed basketball.”

  “Everyone is capable of surprising you,” I said.

  I didn’t mean for it come out flirtatious, but judging by his slow, appreciative smile, that was how he took it. “I’ll bear that in mind. Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that I’m having a party this weekend. Stop by if you can. Can I text you my address?”

  “Sure.” I gave him my number. “But to be honest, I probably won’t come.”

  “Something I said?”

  “No, I’m just not much of a party person. I’ll probably go to the Marquee with Kian.” That was an intentional name drop to raise awareness.

  “Isn’t that a bar?” Jake seemed really impressed, enough that I felt like rolling my eyes. Apparently the key to popularity as a new kid was true indifference along with projecting a convincing aura that your life was more interesting than everyone else’s.

  “Sort of. But they’re not picky about ID. We were there last weekend.”

  “You and that kid? Went to a bar.”

  “Yep. We watched an old movie, drank a little.” I didn’t have to say it was Coke, right? The point was to raise Kian’s social footprint. “Nothing huge, it was chill. And we didn’t have to worry about being raided by the cops for a noise complaint.”

  Jake frowned. “My parties never get busted. We live out in the country, and my parents are gone this weekend.”

  “Cool. I’ll keep that in mind.” Waving, I headed for the front doors.

  The halls had thinned a little, and I didn’t find Kian anywhere. He probably already got on a bus. But in the weirdest echo—and maybe because of the story I’d told Saturday night—the Harbinger was waiting for me, leaning up against an electrical pole just past the edge of the parking lot. In his Colin guise, he attracted a lot of attention from students who lived close enough to walk to school. Today he’d come as a musician with a violin case on his back, and even I had to admit he was irresistible layers of gorgeous: black shirt, claret leather vest, black trousers tucked into maroon combat boots, black trench coat over everything. The final touch, a dark red knit beanie contrasted beautifully to the raven spill of his hair, and as I processed the soft sighs and longing looks, it was like replaying how everyone reacted to Kian at Blackbriar.

  Seems I’m destined to be envied for loves that aren’t mine.

  “Nine!” he called.

  Six heads swiveled in my direction. I have to get him out of here before he makes somebody go full Nicole. I hurried toward him, face locked in a grimace of a smile.

  “What’re you doing here?”

  “Picking you up, of course. I understand it’s the thing to do.”

  “More like marking territory,” I muttered.

  “Don’t be absurd, dearling. I don’t need to mark for you to be mine.”

  That was both annoying and wrong, but I didn’t have the energy to argue. “Are you planning to ride the bus with me?”

  The Harbinger laughed. “Hardly.”

  But before I could speak, the talkative girl from Tanya and Jake’s group stopped beside us. “I heard you might come to the party on Saturday.” While she was allegedly talking to me, her gaze never left the Harbinger.

  Shit.

  “You are?” I prompted.

  “Lara. Sorry.” As far as she knew, I could be a doll made of pepperoni sausage. So much for thinking Wade was the best thing ever to happen to this school. “Is this your boyfriend?”

  A little of the Harbinger’s aura shivered through me, but either I’d built up an immunity or he was shielding me somehow. Yet Lara must be getting the full impact. If he asked, she’d probably run out into traffic. I grabbed his arm, annoyed that I probably looked jealous and possessive, when my main goal was delivering a vicious pinch. The Harbinger smirked, setting his hand briefly over mine, and Lara didn’t notice how he squeezed the fingers together, a little painful while seeming intimate. That pretty much described all our interactions.

  “Yes,” he said. “You said something about a party?”

  I stepped on his foot, but it didn’t faze him. Lara enthusiastically explained how awesome Jake’s parties were, kind of legendary despite him only being a sophomore, and we should both totally come. By his gentle smile, I could tell the Harbinger thought this was all delightful and tremendously entertaining. He could probably find at least twenty people to feed from.

  Lara finished, “Normally I think the violin is boring and weird, but I bet your music is awesome. So you can even play if you want to.”

  Finally, I understood why he was carrying one, the whole fiddle of gold against your soul thing had to be massive in-joke. I sighed. “We have to go. See you around.”

  It took all my strength to haul him away from the conversation, and I didn’t notice I had a hold of his wrist until he resisted, staring at where my fingers held him. I let go at once.

  “Sorry, but you can’t complicate my situation. You’re supposed to be a spectator.”

  “How am I interfering?” he asked softly.

  “Forget butterfly wings causing a hurricane; you’re a tsunami of nope. You just being here will screw things up.”

  “How can you be sure? Mayb
e you need chaos on my level.”

  “We’re not going to the party,” I said. “And that violin—”

  “Is not a prop.”

  “What?” Caught off guard, I stared while he opened the case, withdrew a burnished instrument, and played a few gorgeous bars. His music tore through me like an anguished, exquisite cry. My breath went. “Wow.”

  Satisfied with this response, the Harbinger put it away. “You underestimate me. I learned to play in Dublin, a long time ago. I was pretending to be human then too, and there was a red-haired girl, various misfortunes, and a dingy pub. It ended badly, of course,” he added with a flinty kind of tenderness. “Sometimes I still like to go out and play. It amuses me to seduce a few coins from people I could drink like a cup of tea.”

  “That’s a terrifying metaphor.”

  The Harbinger snapped the case shut without looking at me. He obviously didn’t want to talk about taverns or red-haired girls; I remembered the shawl and gown he’d let me borrow before and wondered about all the sad stories he’d wandered through alone, set on his course by our tales, and then abandoned. It was hard to feel nothing for him. Hesitantly, I put out my hand but he stepped away as if acid coated my fingers. An unexpected chill seeped into my bones despite my hat and scarf.

  “Where shall I deliver you?”

  “To the corner store near my house.”

  He asked no questions, only beckoned for me to follow. I had the incredible impression that I’d wounded him somehow by being agitated by his arrival. No, that’s crazy. Hard-pressed to keep up, the Harbinger rounded a corner ahead of me. I stepped over a slick patch on the cracked sidewalk, and he grabbed my wrist. The world whooshed away, and we reappeared in an alley near the Baltimore.

  “Close enough?”

  I nodded. “Thanks. And look, I’m—”

  “You have your business to tend and I’ve mine.” With that, he was gone.

  Sighing, I made my way to the store, pausing to wipe my feet so the bell jingled nonstop. José glanced up with a crisp snap of his newspaper. “Ah, you’re back?”

  I nodded. “If the offer’s still open, I’m here to work.”

  A PENCHANT FOR INNOCENT EYES

  I worked at the bodega twice more, enough to keep me in noodles, bread, and yogurt for the week. José and Luisa were nice people, and by Wednesday, she was sending me home with a plastic container of tamales. I devoured them for dinner that night, and they were pretty much the most delicious thing I’d tasted since I made the leap. For some reason, sweets didn’t have the same savor these days.

  On Thursday, I talked Kian into sitting with Devon and his group, overriding his protests that it would be awkward. For the first ten minutes, it was, and Devon glared at me over trays of macaroni and processed cheese. Kian stared hard at his food and didn’t talk to anyone, so I considered conversational first aid and hoped someone at the table liked classic movies.

  “So who’s seen Casablanca?” I asked, during the next lull.

  Five out of six shrugged and shook their heads, but Vonna said, “It’s pretty fantastic.”

  Score.

  Devon mentioned her the other day. She was short and a little chubby with brown skin and hair in braids. I could’ve hugged her, but that would have been weird. I made sure to mention we’d watched it last weekend at the Marquee, then added my two cents in evaluation, hoping to lure Kian into the discussion. That spurred some interest from the rest of the group, and soon Kian was fielding questions about the place. At first, he spoke so softly that people had lean in to hear, but I could tell the minute he realized they were honestly curious.

  “Have you always liked classics?” Vonna asked eventually.

  “Pretty much as long as I can remember. And, yeah, I know it’s gross nostalgia and that history isn’t the way those movies make it seem—”

  “Some things you have to appreciate apart from the ugliness,” she said, eyes glinting. “I mean, Hollywood is still a hot mess for people of color, and back then…”

  “Exactly.” Kian was nodding, and they went into a deeper discussion of progress that still needed to be made in the movie industry.

  The rest of the table seemed pretty shocked, but I couldn’t stop grinning. Yeah, he’s smart. He’s articulate. He’s got ideas worth hearing.

  Fifteen minutes later, Vonna was saying, “I’d like to direct someday, but damn, I might as well decide to be an astronaut with the glass ceiling so firmly in place.”

  When the bell rang, everyone seemed startled, including Kian. His gaze met mine, and I could just about hear him saying, Holy shit, that went a lot better than I expected. As I passed him, heading for the hallway, I bumped my shoulder against his.

  “Hold up,” Vonna called. “What’s your number? I can’t geek out with just anyone about old movies.”

  Eyes wide, Kian stopped, and I whispered, “Give it to her.”

  Devon caught up with me as the others filed out of the cafeteria. “Hey, Nine, wait. I owe you an apology.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I was wrong about you. My mom works really hard to keep us fed, and I want to face punch anyone who judges how she does it.”

  “I like HOS,” I said, tugging at my Who shirt. “I’m wearing something I bought there.”

  He sighed. “I know. My mom saves the best stuff she gets in my size, but I worry if it comes from somebody here and if some asshole like Wade is gonna yell, ‘Hey, Devon, nice sweater, gave it away last week,’ and then I’ll be the secondhand kid for life.”

  “Understood. People care so much about image at this stage. It’ll be nice to leave that, though I guess some folks never get past it.”

  “There’s something odd about you,” he said, thoughtful.

  “You’re just noticing? I’ll take it as a compliment.”

  He smiled then. “I also need to say sorry for what we said about Kian before. Seems like he’s just shy, huh?”

  “Basically. I’m glad you didn’t make a big thing when I brought him with me. I mean, you did invite me to have lunch with you guys and all.”

  “Heh, he was all but kicking and screaming when you two sat down. But once he loosens up, he’s okay.”

  “And now we’re on the same page. I’ll be happy to one-plus-one into your group now, assuming that’s still on offer.”

  “You make it sound like we have limited memberships.”

  “Well, the tables only seat eight,” I pointed out.

  “True. Makes you wonder how the A-listers decide who are the shiniest that week.”

  I snickered because I had noticed that there were upper- and lower-class royalty, two neighboring tables, in the center of the cafeteria, but while four seats were set, the others seemed to rotate depending on who was in favor with the core group. It was like getting voted off the island on Survivor or something, the way people vied for seats at those tables.

  “Maybe it’s sports-related. High scorer?”

  “They also ostracize breakups. Like if a couple splits, one stays and the other goes. No idea how they decide who to keep, though.”

  “To be honest, I don’t care,” I said, smiling.

  “Me either. I’m this way. Talk to you later.” With a wave, Devon went down a different hallway, leaving me to collect stuff from my locker and dash to class.

  Jake Overman fell into step with me halfway there. “Given any more thought to my party? I hear Lara met your boyfriend on Monday.”

  Raising a brow, I asked, “Why is that worth mentioning?”

  “Apparently he was hot like whoa and damn.”

  “Are you repeating her, or is that your opinion?” I smirked.

  Jake laughed, which made me like him a little more. While looks might fade, a sense of humor lasted a lifetime. “Sadly no, I haven’t seen him. But I could quote more from her if hearing your man praised is good for your self-esteem.”

  “Nah, it’s not a big deal.”

  “That’s a weird attitude for a girlfriend
,” he noted.

  “Why? If he’s hot, it’s nothing to do with me. Same with talent.”

  “But per Lara, someone that awesome chose you, right?”

  “Maybe I’m that amazing and he’s lucky I chose him.”

  “Maybe so,” he murmured.

  Ignoring that, I marched into class, only to be deflated when Jake followed me and sat down near the front of the room.

  Huh, I never noticed he’s in here too. Not surprising, since when I first arrived I only had Kian on my radar. But now that the mission had evolved, I had to take other people into consideration. Maybe I should test how far Jake’s goodwill extended.

  Since he was waiting for me after class, it didn’t take long. “About your party…”

  “Change your mind?”

  “Not sure yet. Can I bring some people?”

  “That Kian kid?” he guessed.

  “Yeah, and a few others.”

  “You haven’t even been here that long, how many people do you know?”

  “Well, you and Tanya, Lara, Kian, Devon Quick’s group…”

  His brows shot up. “You want to invite all of them? It’s not even your party.”

  “Good thing too. I’d make everyone drink Kool-Aid because it’s cheap, and force them to do geometry to figure out the trajectory of various astronomical objects.”

  That startled another laugh out of him. “I have no idea if you’re screwing with me right now, but I’m kind of into it. Tell me why you want to invite so many people, and I’ll consider it.”

  “Because I’m opposed to systemic elitism,” I said simply. “Logistically speaking, I know you can’t invite the whole school to rock out at your place. The cost alone…” I shrugged. “But I’ve made some friends here and I don’t want to go where they’re not welcome.”

  “Not even if it means other invitations, more parties…?”

  “I don’t care about that. I won’t be here long enough for it to matter.”

  That snagged his attention hard, enough that he stopped walking and a short kid plowed into his back. With a mumbled “sorry,” the boy scuttled past, but Jake wasn’t looking at him. “Are you … dying or something?”