Page 12 of Burning Demons (Burning Torments #1)

Chapter 12

Tate

“Nervous?” Wren asked.

Usually? No. The first day of school had never bothered me before.

Today? Yes, but only because I was still reeling over this crush that had taken over my every waking moment. I couldn’t even look at Wren and not see his gorgeous blush, his teasing wink, or be reminded of the sexy rumble in his chest when he tried to hold back a laugh. Was he fighting this too?

Could we really do this? Could we give in, admit to it, and what, hook up? We were stepbrothers. A serious conversation needed to happen, and I was too chickenshit to initiate it.

The longer I hesitated to answer him, the more Wren’s expression fell.

“Nope,” I said finally, lying and hoping he didn’t notice me rubbing my palms over my jeans.

He dropped his shoulders with a sigh, and his tight features relaxed. “Good.”

We had arrived early. Wren parked his truck near the back side of the senior lot, which hadn’t been paved recently, and the lines weren’t as clear. Other vehicles pulled in as we got closer to eight. Between watching the students mill around or head into the school, he tossed me glances and occasionally scrubbed his fingers through his hair.

When each touch of his eyes started getting my dick a bit too excited, I huffed and said, “Stop, or I’ll think you like me.”

“I definitely don’t,” he said with a grin.

A warm tingle spread over my face that told me a lot. With only a few words, a smile, and a blink of his eyes, Wren had me blushing, wishing, and falling a little more. This. Was. Insane.

But I liked it.

At five minutes until, he heaved a sigh and said, “Let’s get it over with.”

We caught a few stares as we headed for the building. Wren kept his eyes down, and his hand twisted on the strap of his backpack over his shoulder.

“Sup, Wilkerson.”

“Hey, Wren.”

“Hi, Wren.”

I got a good share of the stares, but all the greetings went to Wren. As the new kid, I expected it, even though I recognized a few faces from the party. What Wren didn’t seem to notice with his head down were all the girls staring at him with hearts in their eyes. Clueless, absolutely clueless as to how hot he was.

Our schedules had been emailed to us, and beyond homeroom and lunch, we had nothing together. Today’s homeroom was longer than normal as the teachers went over stuff about the year. Events, festivals, the clubs we could join, and time blocks for holidays and finals. The rest of the morning’s schedule was also a bit weird to fit in short chunks of classes.

After the intro to the new school year, I went to AP English, and Wren went to Physics. Our classes were actually pretty similar, but with a little over two hundred of us seniors, they had to fit everyone around somehow.

The door to my biology class had a sign redirecting everyone to the lab. Weird for the first day, and I was apparently the last one to get the message. When I walked in, nearly thirty pairs of eyes darted in my direction.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Mr. Decker, I presume,” the teacher said from a desk in the front corner of the room.

“That’s me.”

The man in his mid-thirties—Mr. Eisenburg, per my schedule—glanced over the students. “Who has an open spot?”

Fourteen tables, seven on each side of the room, held two students each, and no one spoke up. One near the back of the room appeared to be empty at first glance, so I headed in that direction.

Surprisingly, a guy sat at the table next to the window. I scanned him to the tips of his shoes, which barely reached the last rung on his chair. Jesus, he was short, with an adorable baby face that could still be going through puberty.

“Hey,” I said as I dropped my bag on the floor and sat on the open chair.

The guy jumped, blinked at me, then glanced left and right as if I could have been talking to someone else.

“I’m Tate.”

“Percy,” he said.

“This is advanced biology. Aren’t you a bit too young to be in here?” I asked.

His brow hitched with something like annoyance flashing in his green eyes.

Before I could apologize, he said, “This is high school. Aren’t you a bit too pretty to be in here?”

I grinned at the snippy remark, and then he did.

“Okay, everyone, eyes up here. We’re in here today due to some scheduling mishaps with the first day. You can expect half your year to be spent in a classroom and the other half in here once we get into more interactive lessons.” Mr. Eisenburg droned on about expectations for the year, the same as every other teacher.

“Seriously, though,” I whispered. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen,” Percy whispered back. “Skipped a grade.”

“You some kind of genius?”

He darted his gaze around and leaned closer. “Maybe I’m a mad genius. This is a lab, after all. Let’s make it colorful.”

I broke off an unexpected laugh and then had to bite my lips to keep the smile off them as I forced my attention to the teacher.

When the class was over, Percy walked out with me and headed for the cafeteria.

“You got lunch next?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“You want to eat with me and my stepbrother?”

Percy watched his feet as we walked. His backpack was about as big as he was, but with a few more years to mature, he could be a sexy-ass twink, if he was into guys.

“Um.” He lifted his head, and I thought he was about to turn toward me, but his gaze snagged on something.

I scanned out in front of us and caught sight of Emily, one of the few faces I remembered from Cody’s party.

“Your crush?” I asked.

Percy stopped and huffed at me with disgust on his face. “Gross. Emily is my sister.”

“Oh.” Of-fucking-course the first friend I made at school would be her brother. Okay, yes, it was unreasonable to be jealous of the first girl I caught Wren giving a tiny bit of his attention to, but who said anything about crushes being reasonable?

“Besides, I think we both know a she is not my type.”

I smirked down at the observant-beyond-his-years guy. “That so?”

“Yeah. Best to keep that to yourself. They don’t like gays here.”

Something heartbreaking blinked in and out of his expression, and before I could think about it or respond, he took a step back.

“Thanks for the offer, Tate, but I eat outside, alone. And that’s not an invitation.”

I nodded once. “See you in class, then.”

Percy cast me a cute smile, then backed out of the double doors that led to a courtyard between buildings. Emily hadn’t noticed her brother in the hallway, but she saw me glaring at her as I walked past.

Lunch was broken into two shifts. Luckily for the calorie hog, we both had the early time slot. I was already at a table when Wren walked in. Sienna was at his side and Alex on the other. Both were talking to each other—bickering, more likely, based on the aggressive hand gestures—right over Wren, who was eating cookies from a tiny bag. He spotted me, smiled, and headed my way.

“Wren,” Sienna snapped.

He turned around. “What? Get your food and join us.”

The cafeteria had the standard setup. Tables were lined up all over, a few round ones, and the long ones had the built-in stools that didn’t move. I was on the end of one, and Wren sat down across from me.

I pushed my tray toward him a few inches. “Want it?” I had gone through the line and got a cheeseburger with tots and a brownie but couldn’t eat.

Wren pulled the tray closer. “You bought me lunch?”

I rolled my eyes. “Just not hungry.” That was true, but only because my stomach was on fire. I needed a cigarette more than food. Today had started with the best intention of cutting back a little. But maybe I wasn’t ready for that since I had every intention of slipping out of my next class to smoke.

Wren finished the burger in a few huge bites and was working on the brownie by the time Alex and Sienna joined us.

“You guys have classes together?” I asked.

“Not many,” Sienna said. She sat down beside me, and Alex took the seat beside Wren.

“Does it seem more crowded this year?” Alex asked as he scanned the room while shoveling fries in ten at a time.

I had no input for the question, but it wasn’t exactly directed at me either. Still, I searched out the students, not really checking on anything in particular, but saw Cal Winters, who I remembered from the party chatting with Michael and a few others. Michael’s little shadow, Jamie, sat next to him but talked with another guy who was dressed in black too.

“It’s because everyone is bigger,” Sienna said, pulling me back to their conversation.

Naturally, her words made me think of the big guy across from me. I grinned at Wren, who had moved on to popping tots.

“Don’t look at me. I was this big last year,” Wren said.

Sienna and Alex laughed.

“What?” I asked.

“He was definitely not this big last year. He just likes to think so.”

“What are you now, dude? Like, two-fifteen?” Alex let the wadded-up napkin he’d been clenching fall to the tray between his elbows. “Fuckin’ show-off.”

Wren flicked a plastic fork and hit Alex in the chest with it. “Don’t get pissed you can’t bulk up like I can.”

Sienna’s laugh at the pair was abruptly broken short by shouts.

“World War!”

I glanced from a group of four guys snickering and shoving each other as they moved past our table to Wren to get clued in on whatever this was. He dropped his smile with his chin, and his shoulders tensed higher and higher toward his ears.

“Fuckin’ Wolf Pack.” Alex rolled his eyes, then elbowed Wren. “Emotions are for queers, and you need to get over that bullshit. Grow some balls, and kick their asses.”

Wren shrugged and faked a snort of laughter, not in the least convincing to me.

“Who?” I asked, a bit stupefied at what was going on here. Was Alex a bigot, a dumbass, or both?

I darted a glare between the Wolf Pack, who had others scrambling out of their way before they plopped onto seats at a rowdy table filled with equally as jock-looking assholes, and Alex, who, until now, I thought was friends with Wren.

“The Wolf Pack.” Even Sienna seemed not to like them, which spoke volumes since she liked everyone.

“I’m guessing ‘Wolf Pack’ has to do with the mascot?” I asked.

“It’s nothin’,” Wren said.

The rest of the lunch period was uneventful after that. Wren finished the tots, then sat there, mood still tanked, and listened as Alex and Sienna prattled on, arguing more often than not, and now I couldn’t tell if they liked each other and this was part of their mating dance or if they really didn’t.

The four of us got up to leave. Sienna and I were headed in the same direction for our next class, so I pulled her aside to get the details.

“What the fuck was that about? Alex, the Wolf Pack, and the World War shit?”

Sienna took a deep breath, then tightened her mouth into an angry frown. “Alex is just stupid. I don’t think he really means anything hurtful, and those other dickheads are on the football team with him. They’re the worst.”

“And World War? What does that mean?”

After a frozen second, her eyes welled up. “Promise me you won’t tell him I told you.”

“Who? Told me what?”

“It’s Wren.” Her voice shook, and she dashed a tear off her cheek. “Wren Wilkerson. W. W. They’ve been calling him World War because of his scar since ninth grade.” She clutched my hand surprisingly hard. “Please don’t tell him you know. He’s so touchy about it.”

I nodded once for her benefit, making no promises, then headed for my next class, mind in a swirl of madness. No wonder Wren was so fucked over that damn scar. With the school bullies targeted on an already sore spot and a friend, or maybe friend, telling him to get over it, I couldn’t blame him for the reactions he had when meeting new people, knowing that harsh gash was front and center.

All of it made me want to hold him, hug him, and wrap him with attention in the best ways. I wanted to show him that even though he saw it as a flaw, I saw it as a mark of living. A mark of his unique past that was his alone.

My next class was a study period in the library. I eyed the teacher as she made rounds, checking in on everyone, while wondering how long I needed to be here before slipping out.

A few others in here quietly chatted. To blend, to play nice with the other kids, I made a conscious effort to get to know my classmates. I scanned those at my table, and as soon as I made eye contact with one of the few guys whose name I remembered from the party on Saturday, he in turn pounced. Not literally, obviously, but I would’ve sworn he had been waiting on the tip of his toes for me to say something.

“You’re Tate, right? We met at Cody’s.”

“Hey, uh, Dylan, right? Yeah, I was there with Wren.” Shit. Did that sound like we were together together? A second later, I relaxed as Dylan sailed right past it, not caring in the slightest for what I might have meant.

“Yup, that’s me. Hot damn, his parties’re always lit, amiright?” Maybe? How was I to know? “You’re from New York, huh?” He chuckled. “We must be the biggest hicks.”

Amazingly so self-deprecating too. “You’re the only ones I’ve met, so the biggest so far.”

Dylan laughed again, apparently not offended, not that I had meant it to be so any more than he had. At the party, he’d been rosy-cheeked and all smiles. Then, I had figured it was from his buzz. Now, I could see it was just his nature.

“Hey, you play any football up there?”

“No. Not really into sports.”

“Shiiiit. It’s religion down here, man. Auburn or Bama?”

Clearly, Dylan didn’t have listening and comprehension skills.

“Auburn,” I said since Wren had worn a T-shirt of that team once or twice.

“Fuck yeah. War Eagle, man.”

I wasn’t even two minutes into this blending in test, and I regretted the decision. Dylan took the one thread and spewed football stats I had no understanding of. He told me names of players as if he were BFFs with them. I might have recognized a college here and there, but after a few minutes, I drowned it out. Luckily, Dylan didn’t notice.

And even better, the conversation lasted long enough I was seen, noted, and present if anyone asked later. It was time to get the fuck out. My knee bounced, and my lungs screamed for relief, and now my head was in on the action.

“They care if we leave?” I asked while scrambling to stuff my books in my bag.

Dylan scanned the library. “Nah, not really. Just don’t do anything to get noticed.”

I nodded and dashed for the door while the teacher wasn’t in sight. Head down, stride more confident and steadier than I felt, I took a direct route to the nearest exit and didn’t stop until I was behind a random building and a cigarette practically inhaled all at once. Back against the sun-warmed building, I alternated huge breaths of smoke with those of humid summer air until my hands weren’t shaking, my head didn’t hurt, and my mind was blissfully clear again.

What to do about Wren? I still didn’t know.

The craving sated, I shoved off the wall at the first sign of sweat dampening my back and entered the next door I came to for some much-needed air-conditioning. A long, wide hall spanned toward the doors on the other end that opened to a courtyard between buildings, and I headed for it. The layout of the high school campus was fairly simple and easy to navigate once I had changed classrooms a few times this morning.

With what had to be fate-like timing, I stepped in front of a set of open double doors the very second the first strains of some musical piece filtered out. I whipped my head around, homing in as I did so often now, and strolled in as if I belonged in the empty auditorium. The stage sat at the far end where the orchestra band was set up, students leaning into their playing, but my focus was only on one.