Home > The Raven Four (The Raven Four #1)(5)

The Raven Four (The Raven Four #1)(5)
Author: Jessica Sorensen

My heart thunders in my chest. How do I want to handle the situation? I mean, I want to keep going about my day unnoticed, and if I put up a fight with this guy, that’ll draw attention. But his demanding attitude is annoying. It’s like he just expects me to do what he says, like everyone in this world does.

He’s like a male version of Dixie May, only more intense.

His irritation festers the longer I sit in the seat without moving. His jaw ticks, his eyes darken, and his muscles wind into tight knots.

“Trust me, new girl; you really don’t want to play this game with me,” he warns in a low tone.

“What game?” I carry his gaze. “I’m just sitting at a desk, trying to mind my own business.”

“At my desk,” he stresses. “Now get up and go find a seat somewhere else before I make you.”

My pulse spikes, but so does my stubbornness. When I was younger, my mom used to tell me that being stubborn would be a benefit and a curse. But she was wrong. It’s only been a curse for me. I wish I could get rid of it, but sometimes it creeps up on me without warning. Like when brooding guys get up in my face and threaten me.

Lifting a brow, I recline in the seat.

Surprise blazes in his eyes. It’s like no one has ever defied him before. It makes me feel both proud of myself and a bit nervous. But I conceal the latter. I’m good at that—concealing my emotions. At least I have been for the last almost six years.

His jaw ticks as he straightens. “Fine, you wanna play this way, then let’s play.”

I hold my breath, waiting for him to jerk me out of the seat or something. Instead, he turns around and drops into the seat in front of me.

“You just destroyed your chances of making it here, new girl,” he warns, throwing me a dirty look from over his shoulder.

“Awesome. I didn’t have a chance anyway.” I move to put my earbud back in.

“Hey, Mr. M.” The blond guy from the office this morning strolls into the classroom, smiling at the teacher.

The teacher glances up from the papers. “Hey, Hunter. That was a good game Friday. You played well.”

So his name is Hunter, and I’m guessing he plays some sort of sport.

I crinkle my nose. Jocks are usually the worst. At least, they were at my old school. But Hunter doesn’t look like the jocks at my last school.

Maybe he plays chess or is in the math league.

A smile tugs at my lips at the amusing thought. At that exact moment, Hunter glances in my direction. I’m sure I look like a freak with a stupid grin on my face.

A smile appears on his lips. “Hey—”

I stuff my earbud into my ear.

Shaking his head and grinning, he starts down the aisle, his grin quickly dissipating as his gaze settles on the guy in front of me. His gaze dances from me to the guy, then his lips move.

I’m curious what they’re talking about, but I refuse to let the curiosity win. But then the song ends, and it’s the last song on my playlist, leaving the noise in the classroom to creep into my ears.

I move to turn on another song.

“So, she stole your seat?” Hunter says to the guy, his voice a mixture of confusion and amusement.

“For today. But she’ll learn her place soon enough,” the guy warns, fishing a pen out of his pocket.

I pause from selecting a song, deciding to eavesdrop.

Hunter casts a glance in my direction then looks back at the guy. “Did you at least tell her that she was sitting in your seat?”

“Yep.” He restlessly taps the pen against the desk. “Apparently, the girl has no self-preservation.”

“Aw, come on, Zay, give her a break. She’s new.” Hunter plops down in the desk across from the guy. “Remember how scary it was on your first day?”

The guy—Zay—lets out a hollow laugh. “I wasn’t scared.”

“Bullshit,” Hunter teases. “You were six. All six-year-olds get scared about their first day of school. Even you.” When Zay doesn’t respond, worry flickers across Hunter’s face, his lips parting. “I’m sorry, Zay. I wasn’t thinking when I said that.”

“It doesn’t fucking matter,” Zay mumbles. “None of this does.”

They grow quiet, and Hunter continues to frown as he sneaks glances at Zay. I can’t tell if he’s afraid of him or worried. Maybe a little of both. I find myself fascinated by it. How can he make people so afraid of him, even his own… friend? If that’s what Hunter is. What I wouldn’t give to have that talent. Then maybe people would stop tormenting me.

Eventually, people begin pouring into the classroom. No one says anything to Hunter or Zay, but a lot of them do double-takes in their direction then gawk at me. I’m not positive, but I have a suspicion that it has to do with the new seating arrangement. Why the hell is it such a big deal? Just what kind of guy is Zay?

The frown remains on Hunter’s face until a tall guy with dark, chin-length hair enters the room. Like Hunter, he’s dressed all in black and has a pretty face, although his seems to have a more beautifully haunted way about him, all serious, as if he hasn’t laughed in a very long time. He also has a lip and brow piercing and tattoos cover his lean arms.

“Dude,” Hunter says as he approaches. “I thought you weren’t gonna show today.”

“I didn’t think I was either. My fucking car wouldn’t start, and then …” He trails off as his gaze skates from Zay to me, a crinkle forming between his brows as he looks back at Hunter. “Did Mr. M. finally assign seats?”

Hunter shakes his head. “Nope.”

The stranger looks at me, but I pretend not to notice, picking at my chipped fingernail polish.

He looks back at Hunter. “Is she aware she’s sitting in Zay’s seat?”

“Yeah,” Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat and kicking his feet up onto the chair in front of him. “Apparently, she didn’t want to move.”

“She was a real bitch about it, too,” Zay mumbles as he twists sideways in his seat.

So, I’m a bitch because I wouldn’t move out of the seat when he demanded?

Annoyed, I tug out my earbuds. “I wasn’t being a bitch just because I refused to obey you.”

As Zay’s gaze cuts to me, the stranger’s brows rise while Hunter gives me some sort of cryptic pressing look.

Zay studies me for an intense beat. “You’re right; you don’t have any self-preservation.”

“Actually, I think my exact words were I left it at home,” I remind him. “Maybe I’ll remember it tomorrow. But probably not since I have a habit of forgetting things. I’m so bad that I had to install that app on my phone that helps me find my phone because I kept losing it. But I don’t think there’s an app that helps people find their self-preservation. Maybe, though. I’ll have to look into it.”

Hunter smashes his lips together while the stranger stares at me with a crinkle between his brows.

Zay’s dark gaze practically bores a hole into my head. “You know what? I think I’m going to enjoy teaching you your place here.” Then he gets up and storms out of the classroom.

The stranger lets out an exhausted sigh. “Do you want to go check on him this time?” he asks Hunter.

Hunter shakes his head. “Might be better to let him vent it out this time.”

“Maybe.” The stranger drops into Zay’s seat then turns around to look at me. “So, who are you?”

I have no plans of answering him, but Hunter does it for me.

“That’d be Ravenlee Wilowwynter. Raven for short.” A smile dances at his lips as he glances at the stranger. “Ironic, isn’t it?”

Huh?

The stranger stares at me with an unreadable expression. “Perhaps.”

Dude, these guys are weird.

“I tried earlier to get more information out of her,” Hunter informs him, still appearing amused. “But she insisted she wants to remain mysterious. I’ll wear her down, though. In fact, I predict we’re going to be BFFs by October eighth.” He winks at me.

“That’s a really random number,” I tell him. “Maybe you’re the psychic.”

Strands of his hair fall into his eyes as he shakes his head. “Nah, I’m just a goal setter, something you should know about me if we’re going to be friends. You should also know that I almost always meet my goals, so get ready to start making those friendship bracelets.”

“You might want to go easy on setting that goal,” the stranger warns, “until you talk to Zay.”

What is Zay? Like their ringleader or something?

Hunter slumps back in his seat, totally sulking. “Jax, why you gotta always ruin my fun like that?”

“Someone has to be your babysitter,” the stranger—Jax—tells him, digging his phone out of his pocket.

Hunter’s pout deepens. “I don’t need a babysitter. You just think I do.”

“Know. I know you do,” Jax throws back at him while opening a notebook.

The bell rings then and the teacher walks to the front of the classroom to start class.

Jax lowers his voice and whispers one final thing to Hunter. “Do I need to remind you of what happened with Clara? Or Jessa? Or Katy?” He gives Hunter a pressing look. “You get me? Or do you want me to keep jotting off names?”

Hunter frowns. “No, you can stop. I get it, and I’ll try to back off.” He flicks one quick glance in my direction, offering me what appears to be an apologetic look.

What the hell he’s sorry for is beyond me. But what I’d really like to know is what happened to those girls Jax spoke of. And who the heck Jax, Zay, and Hunter are and why everyone appears to be afraid of them.

But, as a minute ticks by with me overanalyzing all sorts of ideas about it, I realize I’m focusing way too much time on these guys. And that’s not my MO. So, I focus on class, refusing to even glance in Hunter or Jax’s direction.

   
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