A Beautiful Dark

the bottom of her packet.
    I pretended not to see and looked down at mine. I had Ms. Manning not only for homeroom but for history as well. It was important that I stayed on her good side. Ms. Manning liked me, probably because I actually paid attention in class, and I was banking on her to write me a letter of recommendation for Columbia. I wasn’t about to screw it up now.
    The packet on my desk was a detailed itinerary for the junior class ski trip, a Northwood High School institution that we’d been talking about since freshman year. It was going to be a nice break from competitive skiing, which I’d been doing all winter.
    “. . . leaving next Thursday, at eight thirty a.m. sharp. On page three is the packing list, please stick to it. . . .”
    As Ms. Manning’s voice faded into the background like a cloud of chalk dust, I became acutely aware of Asher and Devin sitting behind me. I casually glanced over my shoulder again at the back row. Asher was studying me with a lazy smile. Almost like he was challenging me to hold his gaze.
    Beside him, Devin’s calm had dissipated as he glared at his cousin. Together these guys were like this force of energy that constantly seemed to be adding up to trouble. But separately—I stole a glance at Asher again—I was a little intrigued by what they might be like.
    Devin was a puzzle, though.
    As though reading my thoughts, he shifted his gaze over to me. The warmth in his eyes made me wonder if I wanted to spend some time figuring him out. I whipped back around and discovered a note on my desk. I recognized Cassie’s loopy, artistic scrawl.
    Goner was all it said.
    For the rest of the period, I felt eyes on the back of my neck. The clock above the blackboard ticked slower than normal. Cassie’s pen scritch-scratched music notes across her paper. She tapped her foot against the side of her chair in rhythm. I was dying for the bell to ring.
    And then suddenly it did.
    “Catch you later,” Cassie said with a wink toward the boys as she slipped past me. She had Music Theory after homeroom on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, so she never stuck around to chat on those days. Today, I knew there was a reason why she wanted to leave me alone.
    “So I think your reputation for never being late to class is safe.” I glanced up from slipping the ski itinerary packet between the covers of my notebook. Asher looked as though he’d accomplished world peace. Behind him, Devin was hovering warily, like he was expecting to have to jump his cousin at any moment. I wasn’t used to so much animosity and distrust. It seemed particularly odd that two guys who were related to each other would so openly dislike each other.
    “Yeah, so how did you know about that?” I asked.
    Devin stiffened, his zen totally gone now. Apparently he wasn’t comfortable with the direction the conversation was going. Or maybe he just didn’t like that I was talking to his cousin.
    Asher just gave me a conspiratorial wink. “Like I said. A reputation is something that everybody knows.”
    I narrowed my eyes.
    So kids at school were talking about my never-tardy record? I was pretty sure that wasn’t happening. “Yeah, well, in keeping with my reputation, I need to get to my next class. And, guys, seriously, see someone about your anger issues. Even when you’re just sitting next to each other, I can tell that you’re battling something out. It’s not healthy.”
    I stuffed my notebook into my backpack and walked away.
    I thought I’d have at least a class or two to think about my reaction to the new guys before I could run everything by Cassie at lunch—but just seconds after I walked through the door to Spanish, Devin did, too. He parked himself two seats behind me and the next row over. Which, as everyone knows, is the perfect spot for covert flirting: passing a note down the row, “accidental” pencil-dropping with the casual glance behind you, piling your hair on top of your head and then letting it cascade in seductive tangles down your back. I’d seen Cassie run through the entire arsenal. But I stayed rock-still in my seat, not daring to turn around, hardly even daring to breathe . I could tell, just tell, that he was watching me. It bugged me. I wasn’t that fascinating.
    If this was some weird kind of cousin rivalry—see who could get the girl first at the new school—I wasn’t playing the game. Let them fight it out. It seemed to be something they liked to do anyway.
    Of