The Rebel of Raleigh High (Raleigh Rebels #1) - Callie Hart Page 0,30

slam the door closed, pushing away. I’m hoping she won’t follow…but she does.

“I’m Zen, by the way.” She rolls her eyes playfully. “I know. Weird name, right? My parents are the biggest hippies.”

“They must be really disappointed in you then.”

She falters, irritation flashing in her cat-like eyes. “I’m sorry?”

“Hippies don’t often bring up daughters to lust after three-hundred-dollar purses.” I point down at the black leather obscenity dangling off her arm, and she slaps a hand to a chest, feigning surprise like she just noticed the damn thing hanging there.

“Oh, wow. Yeah, this was expensive. Thank you. You get what you pay for with products like this though, right?”

I grind to a halt, unable to keep the incredulity from my face. I’m about to ask her how the fuck she just took my backhanded insult as a fucking compliment, when I register the way she’s preening and figure it wouldn’t be worth it. “Can I help you with something? I’m trying to get to my next allotted torture session.”

“Allotted torture session. Hah. That’s funny.”

God, she’s one of those people. The I’m-going-to-tell-you-that-you-said-something-funny-instead-of-just-fucking-laughing people. I am so turned off right now.

Zen flutters her eyelashes, pouting a little. “You know, Kacey might be off the table now that she’s dating Jake, but there are still three other Sirens for you to choose from. I just wanted to introduce myself, and, y’know. Mark your card.”

I stare at her blankly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Come on, Alessandro.” She blushes in a way that feels practiced. “This is the twentieth century. We’re progressive here at Raleigh.” She reaches out and lays her palm against my chest. “Most guys consider it a compliment when a Siren hits on them.”

Oh, my good god. What the fuck is happening right now? This has got to be a joke. Gingerly, I take hold of her hand and remove it from my chest. “Alex,” I say. “My name is Alex. And…you do know it’s the twenty-first century, right?”

She blinks, her brows pulling together. “Dude. Of course. That’s what I said.”

“All right. Well…” I don’t have time for this. Or the fucking energy. I turn around and walk away, leaving her standing there. This time, mercifully, she has enough common sense to let me go.

8

SILVER

Wrangling Max during the twins’ lesson is easier than I anticipated. It costs me five bucks and a Hot Pocket, but it’s a price I’m willing to pay. When Dr. Coombes arrives to collect the boys, flustered and all over the place, I feel so bad for him that I offer him a cup of coffee and a chance to sit down for a second. It never occurs to me that he might accept, but when he looks at me, his eyes a little wild and distant, I realize that he probably hasn’t simply sat down to drink a cup of coffee in a very long time.

He's way older than Mom and Dad, somewhere in his mid-forties. Mom always used to take me to him to get my eyes tested when I was a kid. Everything about him is normal. He wears regular, smart clothes. His hair is a medium brown, and his eyes are a steady, reassuring blue. He was calm, and always nice to me—and in return, I was always terrified of him. I hated going for eye exams. I hated having to put my chin on the metal stirrup. I hated having a light shone in my eyes until I could see the alien, weirdly textured back of my own retina. Most of all, I was afraid that I was going to fail, that Dr. Coombes was going to tell my mom those three, awful words that would signal the end of my life as I knew it: ‘She needs glasses.’

Sitting at the counter now, staring into his coffee, Dr. Coombes’ presence no longer fills me with a deep sense of dread. I just…I feel sorry for the guy. I shift awkwardly from one foot to the other. “I’m so sorry about Mrs. Coombes. Have they said anything? Is she getting better?”

Dr. Coombes scans the kitchen, as though he’s misplaced something, but he can’t quite remember what. “Uh, no. No, they haven’t said anything. Just that she’s stable. They’re not really sure what’s going on with her.”

I don’t know what to say to this. Outside, Max is showing Gregory and Lou the fort he made two summers ago. It’s raining, the sky a roiling mass of grey, and it feels as though