Cursed Hearts (A Crossroads Novel) Read online

  C U R S E D

  H E A R T S

  A Crossroads Novel

  LIGHT & LOWELL

  Cover art by: Steve De La Mare

  For everyone who said that we could,

  and all those who thought we couldn’t.

  This book is for you.

  CURSED HEARTS

  Text Copyright © 2013 by Light & Lowell

  Cover Art Copyright © 2013 by Steve De La Mare

  Brushes by midnightstouch/brusheezy.com

  Brushes by hypnotiza/brusheezy.com

  All Rights Reserved.

  ISBN-13: 978-1494386108

  ISBN-10: 1494386100

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior written permission of both the copyright owners.

  The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without prior written permission of the authors’ is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized editions of this work, and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors’ rights. Your support of the authors’ rights is appreciated.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, places, and events portrayed in this book are either products of the authors’ imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  C U R S E D

  H E A R T S

  A Crossroads Novel

  For additional content such as

  character art, music, fun facts and more, visit:

  www.lightandlowell.com

  Chapter 1

  Vardel Academy was teeming with life. Two days ago, it had been as empty as a promise. The air was crisp, rustling leaves as students littered the grounds and filled the halls with vibrant chatter. It was early September, and the start of another year. This year, however, was different. This year they would meet. They would set in motion the events that would change everything. This was the beginning.

  It was the first day of school, and Rome had absolutely no idea what he was doing here. He stared at the large building as it came into view, admiring the red brick and white stone structure. Circular balconies jutted out from every level, and elegant, arched windows lined the exterior, making it look more like a palace than an educational institute. His hands gripped anxiously at the steering wheel, feeling the worn leather beneath his fingers as he turned into the parking lot.

  “What is this, a school or a car dealership?” he mumbled. The loud rumble of the engine rattled the frame of his car, drawing in several unfriendly glares. He and his beaten old Pontiac were probably the biggest eyesores Vardel had ever seen.

  He found a space and killed the engine, cranking up the window in quick, jerky movements. The door groaned unappreciatively on its hinges as he swung it wide and stepped out. Rome’s eyes darted around, hoping that no one was watching as he gripped the edge of the window and tugged it up those extra few inches that it never did quite want to go. That only made him want to key the Porsche beside him even more. He turned and kicked the door closed with the heel of his boot, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. The tail end of his car dipped abruptly, and he frowned at the tall, athletic stranger leaning against his back bumper.

  “Can I help you?” Rome asked gruffly.

  “I was just about to ask you the same question,” Dallas replied, offering him a charming, albeit fake, smile. “The public school’s on the other side of town. Or maybe you were looking for the junk yard, so you can scrap this piece of shit pretending to be a car,” he laughed.

  “Is that your Porsche?”

  “No, but I know who it belongs to, and I’d be happy to inform them you were inquiring about it.”

  “So which one of these shiny new imports is yours, then?”

  “If you can guess, I’ll give you a dollar. Maybe you can buy yourself some new clothes,” Dallas said, “or a better personality.”

  “You should watch what you say to people you don’t know.”

  “Oh, I know who you are.”

  Rome slipped his keys into his pocket, holding back the urge to throttle him. He’d known this guy was full of himself before he’d even opened his mouth. He’d seen him around town before. His pretty-boy hair had more product in it than a drugstore, and his looks probably got him everywhere his money couldn’t.

  “Just stay away from me.”

  “As far as possible,” he promised. He let Rome get a few steps away before calling after him. “Hey, what color do you call this tin can?”

  Rome kept walking as though he hadn’t heard him. At the last second, he yelled sarcastically over his shoulder, “Primer gray.”

  As far as Rome was concerned, Vardel was just as over the top as the entitled, stuck-up rich kids that walked its halls. Yet here he was, walking through the glass doors into what felt like a completely different world. Rome slipped the folded pamphlet that had come with his acceptance letter out of his pocket, glaring at the gold embossed words on the cover. He was pretty sure this was a joke. There was no way his grades were good enough to have earned him a scholarship, let alone a day pass to the best school within a hundred miles. That didn’t mean he was going to miss out on the possibility of free room and board, not to mention a hot meal.

  Ever since his mother’s death, a safe place to lie his head at night and a steady source of food had been difficult to come by. His father almost always had a bottle of Jack Daniels pressed to his lips nowadays. It might as well have been a loaded gun in Henry’s hands. To say the man was a volatile waste of space would be too kind.

  If you asked Rome, he’d say he loved him.

  “Hey Christian, get a load of this,” he heard a boy whisper from across the room. Rome glanced up from the small map he’d been squinting at, following the boy’s line of sight. He was pointing at a girl leaning over to take a drink from the water fountain – a girl whose skirt seemed to be trying to defy the laws of gravity. His eyes wandered up the expanse of her long legs for a second before he caught himself staring.

  The dirt on the floor had never seemed so interesting.

  “I can do you one better,” Christian said.

  Rome watched him flick his fingers out abruptly as if he were splashing someone with water. The fountain drenched her white blouse in response, leaving it completely see-through and clinging to her skin.

  The girl looked outraged.

  “You know, I think I banged that chick last year. I never forget a pair of tits,” Christian laughed.

  “What the fuck?” Rome mumbled. Unless he was seeing things, he’d just witnessed two people manipulate objects with their minds. That wasn’t the first time he’d seen something unusual in this town, but it was by far one of the weirdest. He shook his head in confusion as he swung his bag forward, grabbing out an old t-shirt and crossing the floor.

  “Here,” he said, offering it to her. The girl spared him a dirty look before dashing away, leaving him holding his shirt, and his dignity in hand. Apparently she’d rather be exposed than accept his help. No surprise there, he thought. Most of the people in town looked down on him. They treated him like dirt, and then they wondered why he was so angry and ill-mannered. That wasn’t to say he was a bad kid. Rome actually had a better sense of right and wrong than most.

  “Look, we have a new janitor,” Christian quipped.

  “I don’t know what the hell you just did, but keep talking to me like that and the real janitor will be picking your face up off th
e floor.” People were really trying to test his patience today. Christian scoffed, and Rome watched as the kid sized him up. “Let me save you the trouble. You wouldn’t stand a chance against me in a fight.”

  “Maybe not a fair one.”

  “Just get out of my way before I make you.”

  “What’s your name?” Christian asked.

  “None of your fucking business.”

  “No, that’s entirely too long. I’m never going to remember that. I was thinking it was something more like punk, or maybe bitch. What do you think, Adam?”

  “Yeah, he looks like a bitch to me,” Adam said.

  Rome shoved past them, slamming into Christian’s shoulder.

  You need to find the Dean’s office, he reminded himself.

  If he got another assault charge on his record he was going to be staring at the inside of a jail cell until he turned eighteen. And somehow he knew, ‘They had it coming,’ wasn’t going to be good enough. It had never worked before – and those guys simply weren’t worth it. Rome wouldn’t admit it, even to himself, but part of him wanted this to be real. Going to this school might actually give him a chance at a better life, and more importantly, a way out of this town. There weren’t many great things Rome could say about Redwood Bay. It was surrounded by miles of dense wilderness and located in a port where no one ever docked. The most exciting thing about it was probably the movie theater, not that he ever had the time or money to go.

  “What do you want, Ariahna?”

  Rome clutched his hands over his ears, leaning against the banister and trying not to fall down the stairs. The disembodied voice was deafening, despite coming from at least a floor above him. This hadn’t happened in months. Actually, he’d never transfixed on a conversation without intending to before. The issue with an ability like his typically lied in turning the volume down, not having it turn on for seemingly no reason.

  “I thought maybe we could go down to orientation early? We can find some good seats and start looking through the extracurriculars.”

  “Yeah, I’d rather go down to orientation alone. Besides, there’s still like an hour before it’s even supposed to start. I know you’re a kiss ass, but really, that’s a little ridiculous even for you.”

  “Are you mad at me for some reason?”

  “No, she’s just a bitch,” Rome mumbled. Someone shot him a dirty look as they passed him on the stairs. That’s what he got for talking to himself. The voices picked up again and Rome sighed, rubbing at his temples. For whatever reason, it seemed he was doomed to hear this pointless conversation. At least it didn’t feel like his ears were going to bleed anymore.

  “Jeez, do I really need to spell it out for you? This year isn’t going to be like last, okay? I’m moving up in the world, and the fastest, easiest way to do that is to drop the dead weight that’s been holding me down.”

  “I don’t understand,” Ariahna said.

  “Then let me explain it to you. You and I, we’re through.”

  “But, why? Are you saying you’re ditching me because I’m not cool enough to be your friend?”

  “There’s a difference between being uncool and being lame. I’m not the only one who’s heard about your big brainiac classes. You know what’s worse than being invisible? Being seen for the wrong reasons.”

  Rome drowned out the noises of everything around him, straining to listen as nothing but silence followed. He wasn’t sure why he cared now, but he wanted to hear that chick get chewed out for being such a harpie. If this girl wasn’t going to stand up for herself, he had half a mind to do it for her. He peered up the stairwell as a shuddering breath reached his ears. The rustling of clothes and the sharp pattering of feet broke through the soft sounds of her crying. As the noise grew louder, he could almost see her running down the hall, sprinting by apathetic onlookers.

  Rome didn’t know why, but he had to get to her.

  A flash of dark red hair rounded the corner as he reached the third floor. The girl slipped on the top step, and Rome threw out an arm to catch her, spinning them towards the wall as she clung to him with trembling arms.

  “What did you think you were going to do, fly?” he said.

  Ariahna let out a quiet sob.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. Her face was buried against his chest, and she was too embarrassed to let go. “I didn’t mean to run into you.”

  “You didn’t run into me, I caught you. If I hadn’t been here you’d have been catching your fall with your face.” Rome could see her shoulders shaking gently as her fingers clenched in the fabric of his shirt. His throat tightened when he realized the sharpness of his tone had only made matters worse.

  “Maybe you should sit down,” he said.

  Aria shook her head gently.

  “How about we sit down together?”

  “No,” she said, “that would be worse.”

  He frowned, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I can’t really stand here forever,” he mumbled. Even if he was starting to feel like he wanted to. It just felt right, holding her like this, comforting her. And that, more than anything, made him feel incredibly strange. He rubbed slow circles into her back, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair.

  Ariahna exhaled roughly. “On the count of three, I’m going to let go and walk away, and we’re going to pretend that this didn’t happen.”

  “I’m not sure I can do that.”

  “…Why not?” she asked.

  “Because it doesn’t feel right.”

  Rome didn’t know what she looked like, he hadn’t even seen her face, and yet he had the overwhelming urge to kiss her. Maybe it was just all the tears making him uncomfortable, he thought. He slipped a hand over the curve of her jaw, stroking her cheek gently with his thumb.

  “Look at me,” he said. He could feel her pulse beneath his fingertips, racing faster than his own. “Look at me.” She tipped her head slightly upwards, and then someone was shouting at them from down the stairs.

  Rome had never seen anyone hide so fast.

  “That was quick,” Christian taunted. “What did it take you, all of five minutes to bring someone to tears?”

  “I didn’t make her cry.”

  “You could have fooled me.”

  “Just keep walking.”

  “Hey,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder. “Why don’t you come with me? I’ve got at least ten ways to make you feel better.”

  Rome could literally feel her embarrassment washing over him as she turned her head away, pressing her cheek against the fabric of his shirt. Uncomfortable couldn’t even begin to describe what that was like. Thankfully, it only happened when someone’s emotions were strong enough, but touch almost always amplified the feeling.

  “She’s not going anywhere with you, so keep walking before you don’t have the ability to.”

  “Yeah, because clearly you’re a better influence.”

  Ariahna knew the longer she stood there trying to disappear, the more visible she’d become. She finally loosened her grip on Rome’s shirt, looking up at him with a passive expression on her face.

  “You can let go now,” she said.

  He still had her backed up against the wall.

  Rome caught the subtle sound of Christian snickering at that. He was leaning against the banister, arms crossed and eyebrow cocked in the vaguest pantomime of interest. “If you’ve got something to say, say it.”

  “Who?” Christian said. “Me? No, by all means, please carry on. This is absolutely entertaining all on its own.”

  Rome stepped back reluctantly. He still felt like he wanted to shield her from this guy and his charming personality. He took in the sight of her delicate features and striking green eyes with interest, following the length of red curls down to where they ended, resting just below her breast. What he noticed most though was the way she held herself. The way she stared at the floor, refusing to meet his eyes for more than a second at a time. It was more than diffidence – it wa
s defeat.

  “You’re Ariahna, right?”

  She blinked at him in surprise. Her eyes swept over him quickly, taking in his tattered jeans and strong physique. He was smiling down at her with brilliant blue eyes. They glistened in the gentle light, accentuating the seasoned look around them. It was a thoughtful yet guarded expression he was giving her – the kind that indicated he’d been through more than his fair share of hardships. But there was more to it than that. Beneath that hardened, cautious exterior rested an old soul. Where others might have seen nothing more than hostility, Ariahna saw consideration, intelligence.

  But more importantly, she saw sorrow.

  “Are you one of Dallas’s friends?” she asked.

  “God no,” Christian said. “That would make him my friend.”

  Ariahna glanced at the boy beside her before choosing to ignore him. “I didn’t catch your name,” she said.

  “Navarro. I mean, Rome. Rome Navarro.” He shook his head in embarrassment before Christian could even draw the breath to laugh.

  Way to make yourself sound like a tool, he thought.

  “What are you, James Bond?” Christian said.

  “Clearly I’m not as smooth as all that.”

  “Clearly.”

  “Do you perhaps have somewhere else to be?” Aria mumbled.

  Christian smiled. “Nope. In fact, I bet I’m here for a reason; probably to protect you from this bumbling oaf. After all, us gifted students have to stick together,” he said, glancing down at her blue and silver striped tie. It was really just an excuse to stare at her chest. She had a nice rack, for a nerd, he thought; and everything about her just screamed virgin.

  Aria smiled at him weakly. “I think I’m going to go. Dallas warned me to steer clear of anyone claiming to be his friend.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound very friendly at all,” Christian complained.

  “That’s who that was,” Rome said, snapping his fingers. “Yeah, I am not that guy’s friend—at all.” He smiled when he realized how that sounded. “He didn’t warn you off of handsome strangers, did he?”