Secrets of the Harts

10 November 2009

I leaned against the door to my room and continued filling up the form. I had somehow lost my key and now the security people were worried that one of the Troubled Teens’ friends would break in with it and would not give me a new one until I filled up the form. It was unlike me to be so careless but I could worry about that later.

The door next to mine opened and my mind went on hyper-alert.

As far as I had known, the room next to mine was empty because the girl next door had ‘improved’ in terms of her behaviour and her parents wanted her home.

But now that I was thinking hard, I vaguely remembered tossing aside a notice from the school board last night. There had been many unnecessary letters from the board so I had stopped bothering about them. But now I was regretting it. Perhaps the notice had to do with my new neighbours?

A shadow fell across me and the door shut gently.

I turned and looked at my new neighbour, radiating disinterest as I did so.

There was no outward sense of Trouble, such as tattoos, nothing to suggest that I should be wary of him. But I knew better than to trust appearances.

“Christina, right?” asked the boy. “Are you locked out?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to...come in?”

I continued filling in my form as though I hadn’t heard him but inside, my mind was racing. He had the obvious advantage because he knew who I was but as long as I maintained my icy facade, he would probably give up on me in approximately 4 minutes. After these few minutes, he would rarely think about me again and if he ever did, all that he would recall of Christina Drake was—she was a bitch.

And that would be for the best.

“Um...do you want a drink?”

The boy reminded me of Dylan. Both of them could be so persistent.

I smiled icily at him and replied, “No thanks.”

He was quiet for a moment and I had almost finished filling my form when he said, bemusedly, “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

“Should I?” I blinked slowly at him, cocking my head to the side. “You’re just the new boy.”

“Luke,” he corrected. “My name’s Luke Ouverson.”

I stood up and folded my arms, still playing my part though Luke certainly wasn’t cooperating. He should’ve left by now. I replied, implying that he was young and stupid, “What grade are you in, Luke?”

“Junior.”

A smile wanted to form on my lips but I pursed them instead. I was referring to the way they graded us based on how dangerous we were but Luke had clearly misunderstood, which was refreshing in a way. “No. Spencer’s has a different grading system. What grade are you in?”

“I don’t know yet.” He seemed entirely unperturbed by my attempts to freeze him out. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in? Admin work seems to take a while here, so even if you hand that form in, it may take a while.”

“My grade’s a C. And if you don’t leave me alone-”

“Christina!”

I stopped mid-sentence and spun towards the source of the exclamation. Then I blew a breath out of my mouth and asked Luke, “Is your roommate Dylan Fuller?”

He didn’t get a chance to reply because Dylan bounded towards us, like a hyperactive puppy. “There you are, Christa!”

Christa?

“You dropped your key just now.” He took my hand and placed my small, silver key in it and held my hand for longer than necessary. “I was just wondering how to find you when I see you here. Must be fate, huh, Christa?”

My mind latched onto the only part that I understood. “Don’t call me Christa.”

“Oh?” Dylan shrugged. “Okay then, I’ll come up with something else.”

“No. Don’t call me anything but Christina.” I gripped the key tightly and inserted it into the hole.

Dylan ignored me and bumped fists with Luke. “You’ve met Tina here?”

“Not Tina either.” I interjected.

Luke grinned. “Yeah, I did. She was telling me that she’s a C.”

Dylan raised his eyebrows and turned towards me. "Really?"

From the way his gaze flitted across my body, I could tell how he interpreted it. So I quickly opened my door and almost leapt into my room.
***
“That was smooth,” commented Luke, trying to hold back his laughter.

Dylan shot him a dark look but said nothing.

“You’re going to need more than a little luck with Christina Drake.” This Luke tried to say matter-of-factly, but they both heard his implied words. Are you sure you want to do this?

He smiled; a strange smile that didn’t meet his eyes. “I know. But I don't need luck.”