Moon Academy - Catherine Banks
Chapter One
“Nick, calm down. He didn’t run into me on purpose,” I said in exasperation as I tugged ineffectively on the arm of the six-foot-tall football player with his chest puffed out as he stood eye to eye with Marcus, the guy who’d run into me.
Marcus kept eye contact with Nick as he refused to back down. “I said I was sorry to her, Nick. I didn’t mean to bump into her.”
“I’m not even hurt.” I blushed as more people gathered in hopes of a fight.
“Don’t let it happen again.” Nick took a step back and grabbed my hand. “Come on.”
I mouthed “sorry” to Marcus, who only smiled at me as I was dragged away. I yanked my hand from Nick’s grip and smacked his arm. “What is wrong with you? You’re never this protective.”
Nick stopped walking and gripped his hair as he grunted. He stood still a moment and then released the death grip on his hair as he turned to me. “I’m sorry. I’ve been pretty moody lately.”
I smiled at him. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
He sat down on the planter wall beside us, and I sat beside him, smoothing the skirt of my uniform as I did. I’d hated the uniforms at first, but I didn’t mind them much now. Our school was one of the most prestigious in our state, and the only private school within fifty miles of our home.
“I’ve been having nightmares,” he confessed after a moment. He glanced at me then stared down at his hands. “You keep getting hurt in them, and I can’t stop it.”
I leaned my head against his shoulder for comfort and patted his hand. “You can’t protect me all the time, Nick. I’m bound to get hurt at some point.” He started to shake his head and I whispered, “We all die.”
He growled and wrapped his arms around me in a bone-crunching hug. “Don’t say that.”
I inhaled his musky scent and relaxed in the safety of his arms. “Are you getting closer to the big shift?” I asked. “Could that be part of it?”
He tensed and pulled away from me. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
I dropped the subject. He’d talk to me about it when he wanted to. I wasn’t going to push him. “You should apologize to Marcus,” I said softly.
He exhaled. “Yeah, I’ll do it later, at practice.”
The bell rang, and I stood, brushing off my back and skirt in case any dirt had stuck. “Come on. Let’s get to class.”
He shrugged his backpack up higher and followed me. “What are you doing after school?” he asked as we walked in the horde of kids heading to various classrooms.
“Cheerleading practice,” I answered. “I’ll be on the sidelines of your practice, so don’t fret.”
He fingered the claw hanging on a leather cord around his neck. It was a gift from his father before he’d died, and playing with it was a nervous habit. What could possibly have him nervous?
“I was thinking, maybe we could—”
“Sarah!” yelled Tom, the quarterback of our football team and one of the hottest guys at our school. He nodded at Nick in the universal guy greeting and then asked, “What are you doing tonight?”
“Cheerleading practice,” I answered with a sense of déjà vu.
“I mean after,” he said with a sexy smirk on his face, a dimple showing on one side.
I shrugged. “Nothing.”
“I was hoping you’d go out to dinner with me,” he said with a nervous smile.
Dinner? With Tom? “Sure. I just have to be home by eight.”
His smile changed from nervous to elated. “Awesome. See you later.” He jogged away, heading in the opposite direction.
“You agreed to go to dinner with him?” Nick asked, his brows scrunching.
I lifted a brow. “Yes. Why shouldn’t I? I know you and Tom are friends, so it’s not like you’re worried he’s going to hurt me. Right, Guardian?”
Nick’s upper lip lifted as he snarled at me. “Don’t call me that. And I just…never mind. Do what you want.” He turned away from me and headed towards his first period.
What was it with boys? Nick was protective of me, but he’d never shown romantic intentions towards me; in fact, I’d heard him tell the guys on more than one occasion that we were just friends. So why was he sulking?
I sighed in frustration. I was never going to understand men. I walked into the classroom and took my seat.
Macy sat beside me, her skirt shorter than regulation, and her hair straightened, with not a single flyaway strand