Chapter 2 #2

Chapter 2

~ Jade ~

Lancelot did not come back.

Not during first period. Not during second. His chair sat empty beside me like a silent accusation, and I kept glancing at it as if the plastic might eventually offer an explanation. Why had he reacted that way at the airport? And why do it all over again in class? It didn’t make any sense.

By the middle of second period, I officially decided he wasn't my problem. I had one job today, and his name was Arthur Fletcher.

The second the bell rang for break, I had my bag slung over my shoulder and a mental map of the school forming. I was just about to stand up when a shadow fell over my desk.

Actually, three shadows.

They appeared all at once, perfectly arranged, like they’d rehearsed their blocking in a theater wing. Short skirts. Trendy hair. Nails painted in shades the school handbook definitely had "strong opinions" about. One of them parked herself on the edge of my desk like she’d just bought the deed to it. The other two flanked her, arms folded, wearing expressions that were trying to look friendly but landing somewhere in the "scary" category.

I kept my face neutral and waited.

"So." The desk-sitter looked me over slowly. "You’ve got some nerves."

"I'm sorry?" I asked.

"The seat." She flicked a perfectly manicured nail toward Lancelot’s empty chair. "You’re not supposed to sit there." She tilted her head, watching for my reaction. "You must not have gotten the memo."

"Apparently, it got lost in the mail."

She laughed like I’d just told the joke of the century. "Well, you are new, so I guess you get a pass." She extended a hand. "I’m Modesta. Modesta Hillary."

I looked at her hand for a beat before shaking it. "Jade Casteel."

"And these are my girls," Modesta added, gesturing loosely at her sidekicks. They gave me identical smiles—the kind that stayed strictly on the lips and never reached the eyes.

"Here’s what I’m thinking," Modesta continued, settling into my desk like she planned on staying for lunch. "We have our own section in every class. Good seats, better company. There’s always room for one more, and trust me, Jade—you do not want to be stranded in no man’s land waiting for Lancelot to decide he tolerates you." She paused for effect. "Which, for the record? He never will."

I was about to give her a polite "thanks but no thanks" when her eyes suddenly sharpened with a new kind of interest.

"Wait," she said, her voice dropping. "Casteel. Are you—were those your parents? The ones on the news? The animal attack?"

The air in my lungs went completely still.

I looked at her face and saw it—that hungry brightness people get when someone else’s tragedy becomes their entertainment. I’d been seeing that look for a month. I knew it by heart.

"Yes," I said, my voice as flat as I could make it. "That was my family."

The three of them swapped a glance I definitely wasn't supposed to see.

"Oh my goodness." Modesta pressed a hand to her heart, her voice shifting into a soft, carefully constructed purr. "Jade. We are so sorry. That must have been absolutely devastating." She leaned in. "You know what? You should definitely sit with us at lunch. You shouldn't be alone right now. We’d love to have you, wouldn't we, girls?"

"Absolutely," the other two chimed in, right on cue.

I looked at Modesta. Then her girls. I thought about Ashley, who would have dismantled this entire performance with one raised eyebrow and a well-placed insult.

I smiled. "That is so incredibly kind of you. Really."

Modesta beamed, looking triumphant.

"But I’m actually totally fine," I continued, standing up and pulling my bag onto my shoulder. "I already have a friend who’ll be back soon, so I’m all set. Enjoy your break, though!"

The brightness on Modesta’s face folded up like a cheap paper fan. The "sympathy" vanished, leaving something much colder behind.

"Right," Modesta said. "Of course."

"Lovely meeting you!" I said, and I walked away.

I didn't run. I didn't rush. I walked at a perfectly calm, "I-don't-care" pace all the way out of the room. It was only when I was a safe distance down the corridor that I finally let out the breath I’d been holding. I checked over my shoulder to make sure they weren't following. Thankfully, they weren't.

I shifted my books and headed for the canteen. Two weeks, I reminded myself. Ashley will be back in two weeks, I’ll have backup, and Modesta Hillary can go back to being someone else's problem. Until then: head down, eyes open, find Arthur Fletcher.

I pushed through the canteen doors and walked directly into a wall of a chest.

My book hit the floor with a heavy thud. I stumbled back, but a hand caught my arm before I could go down.

"Whoa—hey, are you alright? That was totally my fault. I’m so sorry."

I looked up.

And then I just… stood there. Because the situation required a moment of silence.

He was charming in the warmest way possible. He wasn't sharp or intense like Lancelot; he had the kind of face that made you feel safe. It was an open, friendly face built around a smile that looked like it lived there full-time.

I thought, involuntarily, of Lancelot. If Lancelot had a smile like this instead of a permanent scowl, and if Lancelot didn't act like my presence was a personal insult, then he might actually be the most—

My brain short-circuited when I saw the boy’s name tag.

ARTHUR FLETCHER. Oh my god. Ashley, you absolute genius. You were right.

"I'm fine," I said, and I could hear the smile in my own voice. "Really, it was my fault too. I wasn't looking where I was going."

He reached down, grabbed my book, and checked the cover with genuine interest before handing it back. "Good book," he said.

"Thank you." I tucked it under my arm. "I'm Jade. Jade Casteel."

"Arthur Fletcher." He shook my hand easily—no weird games, no performance. "You were in English this morning, right? Up front?"

"That’s me," I said. "The new girl."

"You handled that intro well," he said. "Presenting yourself to a new class is genuinely brutal, but you looked like a pro."

I laughed. "Trust me, it felt brutal."

"It really didn't show." He said it like a simple fact, which somehow made it feel like the best compliment I’d ever received.

We stood there in the doorway for a second, the chaos of lunch swirling around us. I thought about Ashley in a hospital bed half a world away, and how much I couldn't wait to tell her that Mission: Find Arthur was officially a success.