Page 49 of Wicked Hungry

“Yeah,” I say. “I wanted to talk to Enrique and Jonathan about it.”

“You must have noticed something. Who’s giving Zach the vitamins?”

“I have no clue.”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I’m even talking to you. You kissed her, Stanley. How could you kiss her?”

The buses start up their engines.

“I didn’t think—you had been avoiding me, and...”

She grabs me then with two gloved hands. She pulls me close, and I want her to touch me, skin to skin. But she doesn’t take off her gloves.

She does something far more glorious.

She kisses me. On the neck.

Her lips suck gently at me. My body is wracked with sensation, with burning ice, tingling, burning thorns spreading out in waves from her cold lips. She nibbles at me, and then, with a groan, she pushes me away.

“Wait,” I say, but she shakes her head. I grab her, pull her toward me, try to kiss her on the lips, but she twists away.

“You need to go,” she says. “But be careful. I’m worried about you.”

She flashes her canines in what might be a smile or a snarl—or both. I’m lost in her eyes.

“Go,” she says.

I shake my head.

She shoves me then, knocking me back, stumbling, into the open.

The bus driver beeps his horn when he catches sight of me. Needless to say, I’m the last one on the bus.

Meredith sits next to Carolina in the back. Carolina smiles at me. I ask myself if I should go sit with them, but then I feel a hand on my shoulder.

Enrique.

“What are you doing on the bus?”

“My brother went home early,” he says. “So no ride today. Sit down, Stanley. The bus driver’s waiting.”

He’s right, of course. I sit down. We ride.

Enrique leans into me, and he smells musky, too. “Hombre, what happened to your neck?”

I bring my hand up. My neck is throbbing, right underneath my ear. Oh my God, did she leave a mark? Did Meredith see it?

Good thing I’m wearing a hoodie. I bring the hood up.

“It’s a long story,” I say, glancing behind me.

“A lot of weird stuff going on,” he says. “But if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, that’s fine.”

“What’s going on, Enrique?”

Enrique shrugs. “It’s time to talk to my great grandmother. She will know.”

“Where is she?” I ask.