The Outcasts: The Blood Dagger, #1

Chapter 1

ONE HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-five feet.

Seventy excruciating, but doable, steps.

That's all that stood between me and the relative safety of my car. Once I got behind two tons of machinery, they generally left me alone.

Until then, though...

Boom babababababa.

And there it was—the gleefully evil voice of Allen Lawrence following me all the way to my locker,— making every roughly two-hundred pound step of mine into the lumbering, look-at-me gait of a high school elephant.

Boom babababababa.

I stopped and took another step—then two more—fulfilling my end of the semester-long contract of humiliation between me and the other teenagers in this school whose metabolism didn't decide to curl up and die on them in fifth grade.

Boom babababababa. Boom babababababa.

It wasn't like he was the king of cool. If I'd had any sort of resolve I'd have told Allen his hair resembled a garden of weeds or his dandruff could fill a snow globe... but instead, I ignored his snide remarks and snickers to open my locker and stick my head inside. It was a slight reprieve to collect myself, but I only managed to embarrass myself further. On my exhale, my hand slipped, which knocked my Calculus book from the top shelf. Papers spewed from the bent pages across the polished linoleum floor.

Just great.

More laughter floated around me as I stooped to pick the mess up but a hand reached out and hit mine at the same time. I looked up in surprise to see a bright pair of hazel eyes staring back at me from behind black rimmed glasses.

Figured you could use some help.

I glanced at his outstretched hand. Stephen wasn't someone who swam in the popular end of the pool but he did attract a lot of attention from girls. He was cute in a 'boy-next-door' sort of way, with dark hair swept to the side and a disarming smile; let's just say if snakes wore pants he'd charm them off with the grin he was now giving me. I glanced around to make sure I was the one he was actually talking to. We had one class together, which just so happened to be Calculus, but he'd never said one word to me in four years. Now, he'd just said six.

You're pretty smart— Stephen peered at the graded paper, A ninety-five from Mr. Woodcomb is miraculous.

Nothing's miraculous about Calculus... I let the sentence trail off, too late to stop the melodic fashion in which it had come out. I hid a groan, I didn't mean for that to rhyme.

In a shocking turn of events, his mouth quirked up at the corner, You're funny.

I wasn’t used to getting complimented by a cute guy. The heat instantly rose to my cheeks, so I dropped my gaze and stuttered, Th-th-hanks.

It was the near extinct, in-school-and-not-caused-by-a-teacher smile that had formed on my lips that made me look away; but when I chanced a glance back up, I caught Stephen gesturing to a couple of his friends who had materialized behind him. He saw me notice and his face morphed. The cute smile he'd worn widened and it wasn't cute anymore. In fact, he reminded me of how a hyena might look in human form.

I guess you've got to be, though, huh? he said as he raised an eyebrow. I mean, you've either gotta be fugly but funny, or you've gotta be the pretty asshole. You can't be the ugly asshole. He'd made sure to say it loud enough for his friends behind him to hear as he wadded up my paper and threw it across the hall. Laughter once again drifted around me as people passed, some with pitying glances in my direction. I felt my cheeks heat up from the unwanted attention.

Told you she'd cry. Stephen stood, looked down at me, and then turned to his friends, Jesus, Lardo. You'd think someone your size would have a thicker skin.

I wasn’t crying, and if steam could come out of my ears, it would have. I grabbed my things, shoved them back into my locker and found the closest restroom so I could shut myself in a stall.

***

Every day when school ended, all I needed to do was make it to my car to feel at least a modicum of safety from the outside world, but the parking lot was seventy feet from the front doors. Those seventy feet were the bane of my existence. They were seventy feet of harassment; seventy feet of sheer agonizing torture and seventy feet of unbearable embarrassment. But this was the only way out. New construction around the back had blocked my failed attempt at getting out unscathed and unless I wanted to scale myself down the side of the building, this had become my only exit out.

The Toyota came into focus like a mirage in the desert; as soon as I saw it I sped up. It felt like multitudes of eyes raked over me as I set out. It always happened this way in my nightmares, too. That moment when the killer catches you off guard and hacks you to little bits. The bits were the remnants of my ego, easily chopped up and demolished. My grip tightened on my backpack strap like it was a life jacket.

Did you think just because you're graduating that I was going to let you off the hook?

I was hoping that might be the case, I mumbled and as soon as I said it I knew I'd made a terrible mistake. It was written all over her grinning, predatory face. Madison Bristow. This was why I didn't partake in social media. I was too afraid of being made fun of, yet here we were again anyway—me adrift in a sea of bully-sharks waiting for blood. My blood.

Madison pulled a wad of gum out of her mouth as I marched past and without a word, threw it into my hair. In a gut reaction, I attempted to pull it out but only managed to make it worse. When I drew my hand away I realized with dread the gum was exactly the same color of a neon orange parking cone.

Oh man, I'm an Oompa Loompa.

I tried to hold back the sting of tears as I flew the rest of the way to my car, but as soon as I got there, someone put a hand on my shoulder. Expecting it to be Madison, I turned with a retort ready, but stopped when I realized it wasn't her. Corinth—I thought you were the troll... As soon as I said troll, Corinth's gaze lit on Madison across the parking lot and he squared his shoulders in anger.

Madison was still laughing with her friends.

The answer to what he was thinking was in those intense brown eyes and in his posture—closed fists by his sides. He was pissed. Embarrassed, I avoided his pitying stare at the gum in my hair.

Corinth growled, That's it. I'm definitely saying something to her—

I grabbed his arm before he could take two steps. Hey Rambo, save your ammo. If she sees I'm upset she'll just try it again, later. Besides, with that dark brown mane of yours— I stepped on tippy toes to reach out and ruffle his hair. You're bound to have some tips on how to get this gum out, right?

His frown faltered and turned into a grin as he said, You mean this hair that would make Simba jealous? Sure, I got tips.

I asked, What are you doing here, anyway?

The gods took pity on me— he started to say but I stopped him with a look. He could keep one of his made-up stories going for ages. He scratched his chin in defeat, Fine... I got out early and caught a bus over here... thought I could meet you to hitch a ride back to my place.

Before I knew it, Corinth had opened my car door and helped me inside. He was already in the passenger seat before I could argue. Stephen, who happened to be walking by, noticed Corinth getting into my car and to my immense pleasure his hyena-grin disappeared. I wanted to shout, 'Yeah, that's right, he's getting in my car!' Instead, I lowered my head and picked at the gum in my hair. Could this get any more embarrassing? Who throws gum in people's hair?

Douche bags, he said, his nostrils flaring out like a bull’s when it’s ready to charge.

His anger meant the world to me; it meant he had my back.

I don't know why your parents put you in that Catholic school anyway. You live closer to Grover Heights, I muttered.

Things would definitely be different if we went to the same school, that's for sure, he said with another murderous glance at Madison as we pulled out of the parking lot.

***

Corinth wasn't one for cleanliness. Dirty clothes were piled against his bedroom door along with pizza boxes—enough for him to make a fort out of their empty carcasses. Energy drinks covered every inch of the rest of the space. If you asked him he'd tell you there was order in all the chaos.

You need some help with that? Corinth asked, eyeing the sticky wad of gum.

I pulled another strand of hair loose and sighed in frustration.

I think I have something that might do the trick, he said and ran out of his room. When he returned he was holding a cup full of ice. He grabbed a piece and plopped down on the bed beside me. Corinth didn't think anything of it; however, I enjoyed the opportunity for his thigh to touch mine.

Come here, he said, motioning.

I inched closer as he gently held the ice against the thickest part of the wad.

I couldn't help but get a whiff of him, being this close and all. He smelled just like fresh laundry.

You stay up all night, again? I asked.

Corinth gave me a lopsided grin, How'd you know?

I pointed to his desktop and counted the empty cans. One, two, three, four—eight...there are more energy drinks in this room than in an actual convenience store.

He glanced around as if proud of his accomplishments. All he needed to complete the whole male bravado thing was to beat his fists against his chest.

That's why you're so scrawny. You use up way too much energy. God bless you for being such a nutcase—a caffeine obsessed nutcase, I said with a snort.

I'm proud to say I'm part blood and part Arabica bean. He tossed what was left of the ice back into the cup. My fingers are numb.

The cool thing about having him for a best friend was the fact that he would pull someone else's chewed up gum from my hair for me. A chunk of orange came out as he wrestled it free and I let out a triumphant cry.

How did you do that? I asked.

Simple physics postulates that the ice hardens the gum, making it easier to separate the hair follicles from candy. He shrugged when he saw the look on my face and pointed to his own hair. I'm kidding, I have lots of siblings. And lots of hair. Happens all the time.After we'd both had a good, long laugh and we'd quieted down, he said, Why do you let the bitch brigade get away with that anyway?

I shrugged. You wouldn't understand. People actually like you... I shook my head. It's almost over, though—I'll be leaving all that behind.

I know you're excited about England, but one of us might miss the other one more than the other... Corinth looked down and for the first time in I don't know how long—at least since the age of us wearing pull-ups—I realized he was embarrassed. He gave me the special half-smile he reserved just for me and added, I meant you'd miss me more, of course.

When he glanced back up, I playfully shoved his shoulder. Then, in an expertly classy move, I pretended to examine my hair and ignored the blood rushing to my neck to my head. I liked him. I mean, I liked him a lot. Hell, he was the only guy who didn't make fun of me for being fat and he was my best friend and he was adorable. I let the thought trail away—like the water dripping down Corinth's arm from the melted ice—and said, If it wasn't for your family unofficially adopting me when my dad disappeared, I don't know what I would have done.

Corinth gave me a curt nod. He hated when I got serious about anything, I can't believe it's been six years since... seriously—what are you going to do without me? His eyes were wide and round and perfect. Pity and concern all rolled into one superfluous look. His little puppy dog eyes might have worked on others, but not me, no, sir.

No, no, no, don't give me that look with those eyes, I said.

He crossed his arms over his chest. I know you're looking for dear old dad in England.

My eyes flicked to his in surprise, How did you know?

His eyebrows creased to form a v above his nose. I loved it when he did that. Come on, Larns, I've known you since kindergarten. You're nothing if not predictable. You don't even like walking to the street curb in front of your house by yourself. All of a sudden you decide to go off to another country?

I picked at a fingernail and after a second pulled my backpack from beside me, I think it's time I get the father issues off my plate... so I can stop putting everything else on it. I reached into the depths of my backpack and pulled out an old journal and handed it to him. I found this hidden under a loose floorboard last year during my mom's renovation.

Corinth took it from me and his eyes widened as he opened it. This is your Dad's journal?

My eyes snapped to meet his and then flew back to the journal. Yeah.

Corinth flipped to the last page and read for a moment. And England is the last place he talked about?

I nodded. He mentions this place called The Swan in Bedfordshire. I think he's there—it's where I booked a room, anyway.

But he's been gone so long, what makes you think he's still there?

I shrugged. I have to start somewhere. And if I don't find him—well I guess it's where I'll find myself, instead.

I can't believe you're doing this, he said. What are you going to say to him if you find him?

I sucked in a deep breath and blew it out. I’ll ask him why he left. I just want to know why. What could be so important you'd leave behind your family without a note or a word or even a hug? He left his wedding ring and favorite leather jacket on my mom's bed. But why go to those lengths and then hide a journal?

He tried to search my eyes but when he spoke he turned away. Maybe I could go with you?

I laughed and when he twisted back to face me, I knew I'd hurt his feelings.

Corinth, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you know your mom would never let you.

He unexpectedly pulled me into a hug. I enjoyed the moment of just being close to him. Like being in a bookstore, he smelled of my favorite things: the aroma of untold stories, mystery, and dreams yet to come. I felt him draw in a breath as if he were about to say something but a second later, he pulled back.

What is it, Taylor, I know you want to tell me something, I said.

Corinth was staring at me like he had bad news, picking at his thumbnail in thought. I never told you this because I didn’t think it would help and I wanted to protect you… He ran a hand through his hair and glanced down. The night your father left, I tried to sneak over to your place for our nightly name-the-stars ritual, but your dad caught me trying to scamper up the side of your house.

I felt the raw emotion build up at the back of my throat as I whispered, What happened?

I remember it like it was yesterday. Corinth lifted his shoulders and when he met my eyes I could see the pain and guilt in them. Your father had this spooked look on his face that night. At the time, I attributed it to him catching me red-handed because I wasn’t supposed to be out that late. Now, I think it was something else… He sucked in a breath and blew it out. I could have stopped him, Larns. Instead, I thought he had made the coolest dad move on the planet for not ratting me out to my folks. All he did was wink and tell me to look after you.

I knew there was no way that Corinth could have known that moment would be the last time he’d see my father, again. And I really wanted to reassure him of that fact, but there was a small part of me that was mad he hadn’t stopped him from taking off, too.

Chapter 2

I WAS ANGRY, NOT so much at Corinth for not telling me about that night, but at myself for not stopping him from leaving, either. The thing that had gotten me was how easily my pain could blossom back up to the surface as if it were the day he left all over again. I’d thought I had filled that ‘figurative’ hole. Corinth’s admission had lit a fire underneath me, though. I was going to find my father and give him a piece of my mind because it still didn’t answer the age old question of why? Why did he leave? He had seemed so happy. And then there was still the matter of his journal he’d hidden from prying eyes. Thoughts like these are what kept me up all night. So, when I finally found the perfect balance between the room temperature and the temperature underneath my covers, it was time to get up.

Being late for school again would put me in a bind, so I peeled myself off my bed and rushed through the process of getting ready. I threw on my favorite pair of jeans, and then put my hair in a ponytail and crept past my mom's room to hear her snoring. She was a nurse who worked nights and I didn't want to disturb her. Sometimes, she left breakfast out. Not today, though, so I grabbed the car keys off the counter and wedged myself into the Toyota. On days like this, I wished even more that Corinth went to my school. He made the teasing a little more bearable.

Before I knew it, I was squealing into the parking lot, my foot on the clutch then brake, when I found one last spot in the cramped parking lot.

When the bell finally rang for lunch, my stomach let out a growl. It had its own language and it was telling me to eat. Now. The lunch line was long but it gave me time to look at all the endless possibilities in front of me. Food was my comfort. It was familiarity. It was one tiny second of relief from the constant pressure settled on top of my shoulders. And in that minuscule second of relief, I found ecstasy.

A voice interrupted my thoughts. You're not going to eat that are you? My eyes stayed locked on the food as I said, You know I'll eat anything that doesn't run from me.

Amber snorted, So, I planned on going to a concert this weekend and I need a friend who enjoys music as much as I do. Know anyone who might be interested?

Um—

—I'll count you in, she finished for me. Amber was my one and only friend here but we didn't hang out all of the time. Mainly because I was pretty sure she had a huge crush on Corinth--everyone seemed to and he didn't even go to this school.

The cheeseburger called to me, so I plucked it from the warming station. The low watt bulbs only managed to keep the food slightly above room temperature--but I didn't care. Every time I showed up in the buffet line, Ms. Schrute, the beady eyed queen of hairnets would glare dagger eyes at me until I'd passed. I don't know why she hated me; I single handedly kept this school open just by purchasing lunch.

What did you say? I asked absentmindedly and then I remembered the current topic of conversation. I have to save every penny for my trip. I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye. The look of disappointment was almost enough to make me change my mind. Guilt trips worked on me.

Ditch your friend before you leave for an entire summer. I understand. Good thing Corinth's coming with, Amber said.

I couldn’t help but feel a sudden pang of jealousy hit at thinking about Corinth and Amber at the concert without me. An image of Corinth leaning into her to whisper something in her ear hit me. Nope, nope, nope, not gonna happen.

Someone walking behind me saw my tray and said, Oink...oink...oink... Amber twirled around but they'd already passed as she muttered, Such assholes.

Speaking of, where were you yesterday after school? I grumbled.

She rolled her eyes. Detention again, sorry.

Pulling money out of my pocket, I handed it to Ms. Schrute. She snatched it from my fingers right as Amber gestured to her plate, so I paid for hers, too. The Hairnet Queen gave me my change and an eye roll.

As we weaved our way through the crowd I asked, That's all you're going to eat? All she had was some chocolate chip cookies and cheese crackers. No wonder she was so skinny. She pulled a fry from my plate and munched on it.

How'd you convince Corinth to go? I said, peering at her from over my towering tray of food. We had found the closest table with two chairs next to each other and I now knew why they'd been vacated—usually finding prime real estate like this during lunch rush hour was no easy task. It was the raucous group of choir kids next to us that did it. They were chanting STATE! over and over again while pounding their fists on the table. One of my fries toppled from its precarious position on my tray and I eyed it in agony as it hit the floor.

I glared dagger eyes at them as Amber said, I should have led with Corinth coming. She gave me a sheepish grin. I sorta promised him you'd be there. If I didn't know any better I'd say he has a thing for you.

I leaned forward, What did he say?

You two really need to go out or something, she muttered.

There's no way he likes me like that.

She rolled her eyes. Right.

If Corinth went to my school he'd be the most popular guy here. The popular crowd would require him to bulk up, get rid of his Star Wars action figures, change his wardrobe, of course—even though for me, these things were what made him so special. But to his popularity credit, he had dated Madison, (the most popular girl in school) and for a whole month to top it off. A month is a lifetime in high school dating. It also happened to be the worst month of my life.

It puzzled me how they got together in the first place. He told me she really seemed into movies. Corinth was one of those people who enjoyed the solitude at the theater, so he'd go by himself a lot.

Apparently, Madison had a dirty little secret, too. According to Corinth, they had ended up sitting next to each other on accident and started up a conversation. Yuck.

We didn't talk much during the Dark Times-that's what I called it.

Eventually, Corinth was the one to break it off. I think it was the reason Madison hated me so much. I think she secretly still liked him and couldn't stand the fact that we were besties.

Amber elbowed me and I yelped in surprise.

The choir kids next to us burst into fits of laughter at seeing me jump. She put a hand over her mouth and giggled as I glowered back, ignoring all the stares in my direction. I wished I could be more like Amber. She didn't care what anyone else thought about her. Maybe she would be the better match for Corinth.

As if she could read my mind, she said, Well if you're not going to date him, maybe I will.

I almost choked on the massive amount of fries I was shoveling into my mouth as I gave her my best you-know-we're-not-going-to-discuss-this-again look.

I'm in, I said with a full mouth. It wasn't that big of a win for her. I succumbed to peer-pressure way too easily.

But she smiled anyway, triumphant in her negotiating skills.

Chapter 3

THAT NIGHT AFTER SCHOOL I pulled my dad's journal from in between my mattress and box spring and sniffed the paper. The faint scent of his cologne still clung to the thin pages after all these years. The sudden memory of him made my stomach clench. This was the only thing I had left to remind me of him. I tried to imagine his face as I read his words for the umpteenth time:

June 7th

I'm back in Bromham. This is my third trip. I think I've taken a picture of every inch of this town, including all of the people in it. In all honesty, this place is really growing on me. Everyone is friendly. The Swan is nice and the bartender chats a lot. Maybe I had too much whiskey, but I'm seriously considering moving my family here.

There was a crumpled photograph tucked between the pages of this section the first time I looked through it. My dad kept photos of everything, so it wasn't a surprise that there was one in his journal. It was a picture of an old tree—the trunk was as big as I'd ever seen but it didn't have leaves. That was the eerie thing; the branches snaked upward, like skeletal arms reaching for some unseen object in the sky. There were two words on the back of the photo: Trembling Giant. I didn't think it was significant, my dad liked landscapes, but this particular tree was ethereal. I tucked the worn photo back between the pages, using it as my book-mark, and checked my phone for any new messages. Amber had texted:

Don't forget about tom night to meet at the concert. I'll see u up there at 9. Tell C to wear that shirt I like so much ;-)

The next thing I knew, I was lying at an odd angle on the couch and I bolted upright, a cramp shooting its way up through my calf. I wasn’t even sure how I had been that tired in the first place. My neck hurt and my heart was pounding so hard I thought I was having a heart attack. It had been a nightmare that had caused this reaction, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember what it was about.

The feeling of being watched was so strong I went to the living room and mashed my face against the glass. Soft light from a lamp near the window made it impossible to see out. This was a bad spot to be in if a psycho with an axe was looking in at me at the same time as I was looking out.

Lucky for me, Jason Voorhees didn't greet me in his usual fashion and the only sign of life was the barking of a dog in a nearby neighbor's yard.

Even though I didn't see anyone, I couldn't get past that creepy-crawly-critters-on-the-neck feeling.

***

It was only two weeks until I left for England, but this evening I had planned on relishing my time spent with Corinth. When we arrived at the concert hall, people were already showing up in droves. Hiking into the amphitheater I found it no surprise that even my sweat was sweating.

Corinth noticed my discomfort and in his usual magnificently superfluous fashion managed to combine concern and teasing by the lift of one eyebrow. You gonna make it?

His teasing always left me flustered, especially when he grabbed my shoulders to guide me to the front doors. The Star Wars T-shirt he wore was form fitted, even after he'd layered it over a red long sleeved thermal. Corinth Taylor wasn't a weight lifter by any means, but his biceps and the cut of his shirt still made him appear more muscular than he actually was. It made me want to reach out and touch him.

Instead, I found a stray strand of hair and pushed it out of my face.

Amber was at the box office picking up our tickets when we walked up. Once through the gates, we shoved our way past several people. The opening band had already started by the time we found our seats. The bass was loud and my whole body shook with the music. The hike from my car to the parking lot