Chapter 4

"Relax and stop tugging at your skirt," Lizzie advised when she leaned in to hiss.

"It's too short," Clara responded, looking down at a fair amount of exposed thigh as she sat down in her desk. The skirt reached a few inches above her knees regularly, but hiked up a great deal when she sat down. It wasn't a soft gray or a cool blue either, but a daring red. She couldn't believe she'd let Lizzie talk her into this. Even the short-sleeved, sophisticated blouse she was wearing hugged a little too tight.

"Relax," Lizzie replied. "This is the first time I've ever got you the whole way to school wearing such a cute outfit. There's no way you're backing out now."

There was no way Clara could back out now. The teacher had just stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. Even if Clara had driven home ten minutes ago, she never would have made it back in time. And Clara was rarely late for class. She hated stepping in a couple minutes late because all the students would look up curiously and stare.

"A lot of boys were staring at you," Lizzie whispered before the teacher started her lecture.

Frankly, this didn't make Clara feel any better. It only made her feel even more self-conscious. She tried another tug on her skirt, but it didn't budge at all. She ignored the look of daggers that Lizzie was sending in her direction.

She couldn't wait until the class was over. She had her gym clothes in her locker—a pair of black shorts and a loose green tee-shirt. As soon as she was done in here, she could sneak away and change. Gym clothes were better than feeling exposed—even if people wondered why she was wearing her gym uniform all day.

As soon as the bell had rung, Clara hopped up out of her desk and hurried out of the door before Lizzie could protest. She hurried over to her locker and turned the combination lock.

"Clara!" A distinctly male voice spoke. "Is that you?"

Her heart-rate rose double, hearing his voice. She knew who it was even before she turned around. She couldn't believe that he was speaking to her again—especially after she'd made a fool of herself at the recreation center last night.

She turned slowly, hoping her nervousness didn't show on her face. She met his chin instead of his eyes. "Hi," was all she could manage to say coherently, so she snapped her mouth shut after the word.

"I just can't believe it's you!" Brakken said, giving her a friendly smile. "Hey, you look really great."

"Uh…thanks!" Her voice came out a lot louder than she intended. She winced.

He was nice enough to ignore her blunder. She had a direct view of his smile. "Hey, I was wondering…how good are you in trig?"

"Fine," she managed to squeak out. She wanted to smack herself for all her one-worders. She was totally making a fool out of herself. It was really sweet that he was ignoring her blunders. It was really sweet that he was talking to her at all.

"I was having a few problems with the unit circle equations—and our test's next week."

"I could help," she responded automatically, hoping she didn't sound too eager.

"Great!" She realized that his eyes were lit up because she'd finally managed to meet for more than a second. "That's exactly what I was hoping for. Do you want to come over to my house after school?"

"Sure."

"Do you know where it is?"

Clara nodded. Everyone knew where the Redfern house was. It was a small mansion that overlooked the hills. She'd seen it from a distance, but she'd never been in it. Lizzie had told her how beautiful it was on the inside. She'd never thought she'd get the chance to see it for herself.

"Great. I'll see you there. I have basketball practice right after school, but I should be there by four-thirty. Is that okay?"

She was still just nodding dumbly while wishing she could hit her head against the locker doors. Why couldn't she think of anything to say? She was just totally and completely speechless and it was so embarrassing.

Brakken moved away from her down the hallway with a final wave. She twirled to her locked and pulled it open. She rummaged through her belongings until she found her gym clothes. The nearest change rooms were the locker rooms next to the gym.

She moved down the side hall that would take her to the rear entrance from the gym. The students were starting to filter away into their classrooms. A boy who was lingering in the hall sent her a leering glance. She thought his name was Jordan but she couldn't be sure. He was one of Drew Redfern's gang—if they could even be called a gang.

"Clara Goddard," Jordan spoke in mock-surprise. "Who ever knew that all that was under those clothes you wear."

The comment turned her cheeks pink. She nodded politely and passed him, hoping that he'd leave her alone. He didn't.

He moved up behind her. "What's a girl like you doing skipping class? I thought your kind didn't do that sort of thing."

"I'm busy," was all she could think to say, and began to walk faster. She pushed through the double doors into the gym. It was empty. The students were all outside running to prepare for their two-mile timed exam. The gymnastics equipment was still set up from last unit.

The gym was empty.

Except for one student. A boy was sitting casually on the end of the pommel horse, rolling a note between his fingers. His longish, curly dark hair fell over his forehead. She knew who it was, even before his cold green eyes turned up to assess her. She knew him because of his angular features.

Great, she thought, her heart increasing. Jordan moved in the door behind her. She caught the amused and crafty look on his face when she turned to look back at him nervously. He looked like he was ready to stir up some trouble. Now she was stuck with Drew ahead of her and Jordan behind.

They probably planned this sort of thing. Jordan would wait in the hall for some unsuspecting student. He'd lure them into the gym…and then pounce. Clara didn't know what he planned, but his look said trouble. And Drew was in front of her to corner her in.

Drew was looking up now, still rolling the piece of paper between his fingers. He appeared to be more brooding than teasing at the moment. He looked almost surprised to see her. Something flickered in his eyes. He stood up, coming toward her from the other direction. His movements scared her—always did. He seemed to have the grace of a jungle cat. A hunter.

"Just leave me alone," she snapped to both of them.

"Did you hear that, Drew?" Jordan said. "She wants us to leave her alone!"

Drew responded with a dark, annoyed look. It was almost as if he viewed them as flies buzzing around his head. They'd disrupted his peace and he wanted them gone.

This was one of the reasons she'd always been so afraid of him. He was so moody and prone to dislike everything and everyone he saw. She felt a shiver pass through her shoulder blades. She was more afraid of him than she was of Jordan—even though Drew wasn't openly ridiculing her at the moment.

Drew sighed. "Jordan, I don't have time for this right now."

"What do you mean you don't have time? You don't have time to talk to a pretty girl? You always have time for that."

The boys were closing in from both directions. Clara held the clothes close to her chest and just stood there. She didn't know what else to do. She just stood there, almost shivering as she caught those cold look in Drew's eyes.

The boys had now locked her in. They were only a foot from her on either side.

"Come on, man," Jordan urged. "Have a little fun once and a while. Don't you remember the jokes we used to play? Doesn't any of that mean something to you anymore?"

"Sadly no," Drew replied with a deadpan expression.

"Don't you remember when we'd run down the hall, flipping up girl's skirts for fun? Didn't you get a kick out of that?"

Clara jumped away at this comment. It wasn't a moment too soon, because Jordan's fingers were darting for her hemline. "Don't!" She complained.

"What, you don't think it's funny?" Jordan darted for her again.

His hand stopped mid-light, caught by a bruising grip. He let out a loud cry as Drew twisted his fingers back effortlessly. Drew finally let go.

Clara stood shocked, staring between the two boys.

"Man, I think you broke my fingers!" Jordan cried out in outrage. "What did you do that for? I thought we were friends!"

"I didn't break your fingers," Drew replied, his face just as deadpan as ever. "But I will if you don't get out of here right now! I told you I didn't have time for this."

Jordan swore at him and headed for the double doors in a huff.

Clara looked at the final occupant of the room, standing no more than a foot away from her. She swallowed uncertainly. He probably wanted her to leave too. And she was only too happy to oblige.

She began to back away and stopped for a moment. She didn't know what she was still doing here. He looked over at her expectantly.

"Thanks," she managed. She was surprised to realize that she meant it.

"He didn't hurt you at all, did he?" Drew asked with a searching expression. It was almost unnerving the way he was looking at her. His eyes darted to take in her whole appearance and she found herself blushing again.

"No, he was just being a jerk." She found she could speak a full sentence to him without shying off. She revelled in the fact with surprise and delight. It was probably just because she was so frazzled by the event.

Drew smiled faintly. "When is he not?"

"Thanks," she said again and hurried off to the change rooms to the side of the gym. She ducked inside, armed with this new knowledge. If she could talk normally to his brother, she could talk to Brakken. She just had to allow herself to stop worrying about what she was saying every second.

She changed into the much more comfortable outfit and moved back out of the locker room, folding the clothing and setting it beside the door. Drew was still there, sitting on the pommel horse. He looked up when he heard her come out.

He actually smiled at her. "Late for gym?"

She shook her head. "Actually, I'm supposed to be in history right now."

"And you're skipping," Drew supplied.

"I just came here to change. I thought I could get back in time. I didn't think…" Clara realized that she was trying to explain herself to the one person in school who probably cared the least. He was skipping too…or he wouldn't be here brooding.

Drew tsk tsked. "Well, you can't very well go to class now—not without explaining to the teacher about why you're late."

He had a point. And there would be hall monitors roaming the halls no. She couldn't technically leave this gym until the bell rang. At least, if she didn't want to get caught. It would be a pity to ruin her seamless record now—just a week before the end of school.

Could she stand an hour with Drew in the gym? She was surprised to find she probably could. He just wanted to brood and would leave her well enough alone. She moved to the uneven bars. They were always her favorite anyway.

She started herself off in a tap swing, building up enough momentum to flip through the air and grab the higher bar. She began to move through her exercises that she practiced every week during her sessions with Ms. Dringer. She moved through them seamlessly until she reached the flyaway exercise. She moved through all the steps perfectly until the landing. As usual, she just barely caught herself.

She tried again, and the same thing happened.

"You know, if you keep your legs straight until the last moment before landing, you'd land smoother," Drew mentioned to her.

She looked up, surprised. She'd almost forgotten he was there. He was right. It was the exact same thing that her teacher kept telling her.

She looked up with a half smile, meeting his eyes. "I didn't know you knew anything about gymnastics!" she said.

His green eyes looked back, not cold and calculating as usual. Just solemn and a little curious. As soon as she met his eyes the smile died on her lips. She felt something throb within her chest. There was a faint buzzing in the air between them.

She knew one of them should be looking away about now. She swallowed dryly.

She felt as though she was being drawn toward him.

The bell rang loudly, waking her from her fuzzy state.