Darynda Jones: Death and the Girl Next Door

“Jared,” I said when he got close, “sit with us.”

But before he could respond, Cameron cut him off. He stepped right between us, his tall frame blocking my view of Jared. I had to scoot to the side to see past him.

“Cameron, what are you doing?” I asked, stunned by his behavior.

But Jared didn’t seem the least bit surprised. He eyed Cameron for a moment, seeming more curious than alarmed, then turned to put his tray on our table.

Cameron saved him the trouble. He knocked the tray out of Jared’s hand with a sweep of his arm. It flew several feet before crashing onto the floor. The loud clatter brought all conversation to a standstill as part of the tray’s contents landed on a table of freshmen. Three of them jumped up and swiped at their clothing until they too saw what was happening. They stilled and looked on in fascination.

I glanced back at Jared, but he only sighed, as though Cameron’s outburst was more of a nuisance than an outright attack.

My feelings were a bit stronger. “Cameron, are you nuts?” I yelled as I bolted out of my seat.

Glitch grabbed my arm and pulled me back down.

The entire room had fallen into an eerie silence for the second time that day.

Cameron wore a menacing grimace as he leaned into Jared. “That whole walking-and-carrying-a-tray-at-the-same-time thing must really have you baffled.”

Jared smiled. He smiled … and stepped even closer. “I was walking before you were even a speck on the horizon.”

Cameron’s mouth tightened. “Just making sure I had the right guy.”

“And do you?” Jared asked with raised brows.

“Oh, yeah.”

Jared closed the distance between them. Every person in the room stopped breathing. Anticipation glistened in their eyes as they waited to see what would happen next.

“You know,” Jared said in a husky whisper I could barely hear, “your heart’s beating a little fast.” His smile disappeared. “I can take care of that for you.”

As though steeling himself for some mortal blow, every muscle in Cameron’s body tensed. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw. “Do whatever you want to me,” he said under his breath, “just stay away from Lorelei.”

Lorelei? Me? I snapped to attention. Did he just say stay away from me?

“I think you’re the one who needs to stay away from her. Stalking, Mr. Lusk, is not a pretty habit.”

Wait. How did Jared know that? How did he know Cameron had been following me? And how did I suddenly become the topic of conversation?

“You can’t have her,” Cameron said.

“Really.”

“I swear to God,” Cameron continued, his blue eyes watering with emotion, “you’ll die screaming if you try.”

Jared’s features darkened. His lids narrowed and he lowered his head to watch Cameron from underneath his lashes, like a cougar preparing to attack. “Let’s take care of that heart thing, shall we?” He raised a hand toward Cameron’s chest.

“What’s going on here?”

At the booming sound of Principal Davis’s voice, Jared straightened and dropped his arm. Anger lined the principal’s stern face as he charged forward.

Cameron eased back too, though just barely. His chest rose and fell as adrenaline rushed through his body. Then the side of his mouth crept up, suggesting a smile. “Don’t worry, Reaper, we’ll continue this later.”

“You just stay alive that long.”

“Wouldn’t dream otherwise.”

“Lusk, is there a problem?” Mr. Davis asked as he crossed over to them.

Both young men ignored him for what seemed like an eternity before they finally looked away from each other. I’d never felt such palpable tension in my life.

“Mr. Kovach,” Principal Davis said through his teeth, unused to being ignored, “I would hate to see your first day here at Riley High turn out unfavorably.”

Jared released a slow breath then looked at him at last. “So would I, Mr. Davis.”

“I suggest you get something else to eat. And you,” he said, jabbing a finger toward Cameron, “come with me.”

Cameron chuckled then leaned toward Jared again. “You can’t do it here anyway, Reaper. Too many witnesses. I know the rules.”

“Lusk,” Davis warned.

Cameron turned to follow him out the door. As he stepped past, his stare locked with Jared’s again. Their shoulders brushed and each gave a light shove, reiterating the fact that their confrontation was far from over.

After Principal Davis escorted Cameron out of the building, the room erupted in dozens of conversations. They echoed against the walls, but through it all, no one could take their eyes off Jared. They watched, waiting for his reaction. Just as I did.

With a frustrated sigh, Jared scrubbed his face with his fingers, then raked them through his hair, his muscles still contracted, ready for a fight.

“Jared,” I said. He turned and looked at me, his dark eyes pinning me to the spot, his gaze so intense, I forgot what I was going to say. After a moment, I improvised. “Jared, I—”

“It won’t hurt, Lorelei,” he said, interrupting me. Confusing me. “I’ll make sure of it.”

“What won’t hurt?”

When I tried to rise again, he stepped back, his expression suddenly guarded. Glitch’s death grip held, so I didn’t get far before being pulled back to my seat.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

He didn’t answer. He just stared, observing me so fiercely, I struggled to breathe under the weight of it. Then, without another word, he backed away, turned, and strode out a side door.

“Okay,” Brooklyn said, “that was weird.”

I sat stunned for a long time before Glitch’s grip on my arm registered. “Ouch, Glitch,” I said, slapping at his hand.

“Oh, sorry.” He let go but took hold of me again as I stood and started after Jared.

I turned on him with a glare. “Glitch, I need to talk to him.”

“I doubt he’s in the mood for small talk.”

“Let go.”

“Just give him time, Lor. Call it a guy thing.”

I stood there scowling at him a solid minute before giving in. With a jerk of my arm, I freed myself and sat back down. The fact that he was probably right didn’t make it any easier to swallow. “Who does Cameron Lusk think he is?” I asked, incredulous and more than a little baffled. “Why would he do that?”

Glitch drew in a deep breath and held it before offering his version of an explanation. “You have to consider the source,” he said, grabbing the ketchup bottle. “Lusk is different.”

“That’s for sure,” Brooklyn said.

I watched as Glitch busied himself with a sudden urge to smother his fries in ketchup and realized he was holding something back. I felt a disturbance, like an undercurrent just below his too-calm exterior. “What do you mean?”

“He’s just different,” he said, shrugging one shoulder. “You know. Not quite like the other kids on the playground.”

Brooklyn knitted her brows. “You’re going to have to give us more than that, Glitch. We’ve already seen the fruit. We need the juice.”

He paused his assault and looked up, his mouth a thin line. “I don’t know,” he said, trying to dismiss our inquiry. “He probably has anger issues. Not unlike the average juvenile delinquent, if you ask me.”

Brooklyn sat back in her chair and crossed her arms. “That’s the best juice you got?”

“It’s pretty much the only juice I got. On Lusk anyway.”

“Oh, no, you don’t.” She wagged an index finger at him. “Didn’t something happen between you two once?”

Glitch stilled.

She was right. The spring break of our second-grade year, he’d gone on a camping trip in the mountains with his Boy Scout troop. Something happened on that trip. Something bad. And I’d known that Cameron was involved, but no one would ever tell me more, including Glitch.