xvi. the hour of wicked kings

“Have you ever been so embarrassed,” I plop down in the chair next to Von at the cafeteria table, “you could just die.” I set my lunch on the table and cross my arms before burying my face against them. I bite into my flesh to stop from screaming my frustrations and having everyone think I’m looney.

“My whole life, sweety,” Gina says.

I lift my head enough to peer at them over my arms, pouting. “I gave Reese his invitation.”

Gina drops her sloppy joe with a nasty *splat*, and Von raises an eyebrow like a pro. Jodene makes this easier for me by beaming and clapping.

“That’s great!”

The other two are more skeptical when they speak.

“How did he take it?”

“Tell me if he was an ass.”

I shake my head, my face burning. “He was fine.”

Sitting up, I pull my lunch toward me on the table, not wanting to talk about it. Not when my embarrassment is so fresh.

“Oh no,” Von says. “He was a dick wasn’t he?”

I shake my head again, more frantic this time, and causing my pigtails to sway against my shoulders. “No, no! I said he was fine.”

“But you have that face on.” Gina points at me. “Believe it or not, I gave you your privacy in that crowded hallway like you wanted.”

That makes me feel slightly better, but I turn my attention back to unpacking my lunch when I reply. “He was great. He took it, thanked me—even smiled a few times-”

Jodene gasps. “Not *the* smile.”

I tug on my bottom lip with my teeth, nodding. “That same one.”

“It made you go nuts, huh,” Von guesses.

My embarrassment duplicates, churning my stomach. “Can we not talk about it, I really want to eat.”

Gina snickers, already doing me good by inhaling half her sloppy joe in one bite.

“All I know,” Von says, pouring ranch dressing on her salad, “you two better get your shit together because if you bring your mess to my party somebody’s getting sliced.”

I stick my tongue out at her. “I doubt it. I will be keeping my distance from now on. I did my civic duty as a human.”

Though, even I can’t stop the queasiness in my stomach at the thought of him being there. Still, I feel good, having finally brushing my vendetta against him under a thick, wool Persian rug. I don’t want to stay away from him but it’s all for the best in the end. We’re just two people who’re meant to pass in the breeze and nothing more.

“So, as tradition calls, you’re coming over to help me boss around the planners?” Von asks, looking at each of us expectantly.

I throw my head back and drag out sarcastically, “Oh yeess! My favorite thing to do!” I look around at my laid out food and narrow my eyes when something’s missing.

“You need a fruit,” Gina points out.

“I don’t know how I missed- oh, yeah, right.” I nod to myself when I remember I’d been hurrying this morning—sneaking more like. “I’ll be back.” I stand up, pulling my jacket around me.

“Get me a chicken patty,” Gina calls when my back is turned.

“Uh-uuhh, it’s my day!” Jodene replies.

I shake my head, snorting under my breath. I walk with extra pep, letting my pigtails sway until I remember I’m in a room of vultures that feed off everything happy or too alive. So I force myself to tone it down.

I get a banana and a tray of food that the girls will have to figure out. It is Jodene’s day, but I rather not be in the middle of that disaster.

Halfway back to our table, I almost bump into an all too familiar block of muscle. I stop and stare at Kellan, tilting my head back slightly to meet his gaze. His blank eyes go down my body. Then back up to my face. He peers into my soul with those dark brown eyes before he reaches for the bottom of my coat.

“Kel-”

With the tray in one hand and nowhere to put it, I try—*try* with all my might to fight him off without dropping the tray and wasting good food. Well… as good as it gets anyway.

“Kellan!” I keep my voice down while I scold him, my eyes glancing about the cafeteria. Already, a few eyes are on us.

Without a word and simply slapping my hand away, Kellan pulls my coat tight around me and starts doing the buttons. By the time he’s done every single one, I feel like a burrito with legs. As if that isn’t enough, he reaches for the belt and pulls it as tight as it can go through the loop.

“Is breathing an option?” I retort with a grunt.

When he finishes, he pulls back, examines my face like a doctor would a patient. Then he decides he’s not done, and reaches behind me for the hood of the jacket and pull it over my head with a *flop*.

We stare at each other then, without words. I question all his brain cells- his entire being! And decide the guy has to have a deep psychological issue.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t smile or nod. He simply walks away. Leaving me in the middle of the cafeteria, the vultures cackling, swooping down and gnawing at the flesh of my social life as the cameras flash and the records roll.

I breathe in through my nose. Out through my mouth. Then I march, my legs and body stiff, on my way back to my table. The table that got a full view of the madness.

Gina stares at me with her mouth slightly open—looking half ready to burst out laughing and curse Kellan out in the same breath. Jodene’s lips are pressed together for obvious reasons and Von… Von has her hand over her mouth, her eyes dancing with humor.

“I dare you,” I threaten, my eyes turning to slits.

They don’t laugh, which I appreciate. Not like everyone else is extending the same courtesy.

Huffing, I drop the tray onto the table before pushing my hood down and loosening the belt so I can *breathe*. I begin packing up my lunch.

“Kira, come on,” Gina says with a whine. “Just undo the thing.” She gestures to my coat with a wave of her hand.

“You know your brother, he’s dramatic,” Von says. I give her a look that makes her shrink back with a shrug. “Just saying,” she mutters.

“Well,” I start when my paper bag is nestled in the crook of my arm, “I’m not comfortable here anymore.”

“Okay, we’ll come with-”

“No, thank you,” I cut off Jodene’s offer and she lowers herself back on to her chair slowly.

That officially makes me feel like a crappy person, but instead of sticking around for the guilt to seep in more, I head for the closest exit.

I’m being dramatic, I know that. But there’s only so much embarrassment an anxiety-stricken person can take in one day, specifically in the span of half an hour, and still want to be around people for the following half an hour.

I find myself in the bleachers by the school’s sports field, staring up at the blue sky and playing ‘what animal does that cloud look like’ instead of eating. Students aren’t allowed to leave the school building unless we have gym or we’re dying, and even then, a teacher has to be present. But I’m taking the chance. If I get caught I might get detention but oh well.

I jerk and almost fall forward when there’s a loud stomp on the bleachers behind me. I cover my head reflexively and peek to my side when I hear a sigh and the seat jerking.

“What the heck is wrong with you!”

Lorenxo’s sitting next to me, only about a foot away, and turned fully toward me with his legs open on either side of the narrow seat.

His shoulders rise and fall heavily and he brings one leg up on the seat and rests his arm on his knee sticking up in the air. “So,” he starts, his voice higher than it needs to be, “heard you’re being hurt over something.”

I right myself again before leaning back to place my elbows on the other seat behind me. I eye him. “Says who?”

He tilts his head side to side slowly, his dark wavy hair brushing across his forehead. “People.”

I stare out at the field again. “I don’t feel like talking about it.”

There’s a sharp sound when he claps. “Okay, cool, because that’s not what I came here for. The thing is,” he leans toward me, “what’s JoBeth’s favorite color?”

My eyebrows furrow while trying to decipher if I’m hearing right. *Did he just…*

“Favorite food?” he inquires, his voice trailing off.

I turn to him, my lips purse and eyes narrow to stop from grinning like a fool. The day’s slowly looking up.

“Come on,” he says and it almost sounds like he’s whining, “help me out. Every time I try to talk to her she gets all snarky.” I have the privilege of seeing him fight back a smile. And I do mean fight.

My façade breaks like the walls of a dam. “Ouuuu, you like Gina!”

His expression twists at my childish tone but his smile grows until he’s chuckling. “She’s cool.”

My eyes go up and down his body twice. “First of all,” the corner of my lips twitch but not in amusement this time, “she’s gorgeous.”

He holds his hands up, leaning back. “I agree. So are you helping me or what?”

I hum, turning away and swaying a little. “Well, there’s the fact that if she finds out I told you anything about her she’d probably hang me from a fragile branch on the side of a cliff...”

“Do I have to beg you? Because I don’t beg.”

“This isn’t about you.” I shake my head, waving him off as I continue weighing the risks. “Cause we’re not friends,” I say and he groans. I keep going. “And I’ll be putting my life on the line here.”

“Kira.”

I throw my hands up and spin on him, all too eager despite the consequences. “Fine.” My hands fall to my lap dramatically before flying back up to point at him. “Don’t you dare tell her you heard a thing from me.”

He shakes his head. “I’ll forget the source the second I leave.”



“You know what,” I say as I’m packing up my mess.

Lorenxo hums, licking peanut butter from his thumb. Through our bonding over one particular friend of mine I ended up sharing my lunch with him. It started more when he asked me if the brown paper bag was empty and I said no then we went from there.

“You’re not too bad a company, Lucifer.”

He glances at me, raising his eyebrows. “What’s up with you and your friends calling me that?”

“That’s a secret I’ll never tell,” I say, my tone mocking like the catchphrase from Gossip Girl.

He snorts, moving on to the next finger. The guy loves peanut butter and jelly from what I’m seeing.

We spent almost the entire half hour talking. I made sure to omit any embarrassing or too personal details about Gina like her bra size and recent tat of Von’s name on her ass and stuck to our more adventurous days.

“And you know what Santiago,” he says, brushing his hands off, “I don’t think you kissed Reese just because of a dare.”

I throw a napkin at him to wipe his hands despite my discomfort of where this conversation swerved much too quickly. Still, I tuck under the opening of the paper bag and put it in my backpack before saying, “Really?” as nonchalantly as I can. *How did he even know it was a dare?*

“Come on.” He gives me a pointed look. That dreadful smirk curls his lips. It makes the thin pink cut on his bottom lip stretch. “I saw you two talking in the hallway. The tension.” He shakes his head again.

“T-Today?” is the only thing I think to say and my face goes up in flames. I double over, arms around my middle and head between my knees. One of the worst feelings in the world is being embarrassed and nauseated at the same time.

I just stuttered all because I thought back to me and Reese’s conversation.

“And that kiss.” There’s a low whistle. My stomach tightens at the thought.

I sit up and turn to him. “Listen, you abomination,” his expression is smug and unmoving, “I don’t care what you think you’ve figured out, but it’s not me. The guy can’t even stand me half the time okay? So don’t-” I gesture to him wildly with my hands, “-do that.”

Now his look takes on something calculating. “Did he tell you that?”

I’m not up for having a heart-to-heart with Lorenxo. I don’t know the guy and this is the most we’ve spoken to each other and will possibly be the last, so I will not be telling him my business.

“It was kind of implied,” I say, shrugging, then adding before he can speak, “but it doesn’t matter. I’ve sworn off him and that includes talking about him.” I don’t trust myself not to let too much information slip, especially since they are best friends, so I grab my things and stand. “Nice having lunch with you,” I say, already leaving before he can even think to answer, my boots clanging on the metal benches on my way down.

“Nice fit, by the way!”

I fight a smile and wave him off, turning my head slightly to call over my shoulder. “Keep your compliments to yourself, you devil!”

His laughter echoes across the field and I’m smiling before I can help it.

He really isn’t too bad a guy.