Free Forbidden by Lori Adams Page A

me up and I squirm in my seat.
    Raph’s smile drops at the same moment that Michael swings around and looks directly at me. He is suspicious of something even though Raph and I weren’t talking. His eyes cut back and forth between us.
    What the hell?
    I wait for them to speak but Mr. Wagner starts lecturing like he’s speed dating and I’m forced to turn away. The whole thing felt awkward but I know I can’t let it distract me. Especially on my first day of school.
*  *  *
    I make a quick deduction: This class is way over my head. Because we relocate a lot, I’mused to playing catch-up, even consider myself a decent student, but this class smacks of premed, not high school biology. I flip through the book to the appropriate chapter: Human Anatomy. Okay, I’ve been here before. But half an hour of this and I swear my notes were penned by a retarded monkey who is just as confused as I am.
    When the bell rings everybody springs up, but I slump back in my seat and exhale like the ride has finally come to a stop. Bailey stands at my desk with an annoyingly cheerful smile.
    “What’s up, teacup?”
    I don’t want to seem whiny but I post a frowny face and shrug. She laughs in understanding and hauls me up.
    “Come on, princess. Nothin’ but a little childhood trauma.”
    Students pour into the hall like rats escaping a sinking ship. It’s immediately overcrowded. Two guys are wrestling against the lockers, and Bailey tells me that J.D. has Holden in a headlock.
    “And now, class,” J.D. announces in an instructional voice, “I’ll be administering the Sleeper Hold.”
    Holden body-slams J.D. into the lockers and then jumps in front of the line of students shuffling to their next classes.
    “Watch it, passhole!” Bailey knocks him aside and then laughs and tosses her hair. I am lost at sea and apologize to people bumping into me. After exchanging books with her locker, Bailey worms her way toward me.
    “What’s up with all the medical talk in bio?” I ask.
    She shrugs and pops a cube of Bubblicious into her mouth. “We’ll powwow that one later so you can catch up. Not to worry.” She swipes my schedule. “Sweet, you’re with me most of the day. Grab Joseph Campbell and math and let’s adios .”
    So I follow Bailey throughout the morning classes and realize that my senior year will be anything but a breeze, academically speaking. Serves me right for stereotyping small towns. I take my medicine with the appropriate grimace. I can already imagine my evening camped out on the couch, an array of books scattered about like a litter of teething puppies.
    But hey, this is what I wanted, right? Normalcy? No devilish laughter, no maternal voice in my head telling me what to do. I should be happy.
    For lunch period, Bailey, Rachel, and I shuffle with the herd of students out the back of the building and along a covered walkway to the annex building. It’s warm and windy. Yesterday’s threat of rain looks inevitable today so we hurry inside.
    The indoor cafeteria is a nice change from Southern California’s outdoorpavilions. I’m used to open space and more students, give or take a thousand.
    We troop around the nondescript room to wait in line, and face multiple round tables, active like the inner workings of a clock. The aroma is distinctly Italian, and I inhale and relax. My chest pain is finally gone, and I’m starved.
    The room hums with chitchat until a squeal pierces the sound barrier. A slim blonde rushes over and envelops Bailey and then Rachel—the famous Milvi Patronus, at last. She is a ball of blazing energy with platinum blond hair in a twenties bob that shimmers like Christmas tinsel around her pretty face. Her eyes are not pale blue like her cousins’ but violet like Elizabeth Taylor’s. A red, bow-shaped mouth lights up her face when she smiles. It’s the kind of beauty that makes other girls give up and go home.
    Bailey introduces us, and Milvi takes my hands. “Sophia!” she gushes