Reaping Me Softly

the week. We’ve cleared the use of the gym.” She spotted a classmate and waved. “Patty, a moment. Patty!”

Niko and Desmond watched Darla follow the blonde like a bloodhound on a scent.

“What was that all about?” Niko asked, still staring after a quick moving Darla. The crowd seemed to part for her.

Desmond clucked his tongue several times. “I told that girl to do her job. She refuses to listen to Darla about the sound system for the dance. Why won’t anyone listen to me?”

“Maybe because you’re a dog.” Niko adjusted his schoolbag and joined the current.

“A shame, really.” Desmond scrambled to catch up. “I’d hate to be the one to clean up the mess Darla will leave behind after she’s done with Patty.”

“If it means you can score with Patty, I think you’d offer your shoulder to cry on.”

“If only.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Niko approached his locker and fiddled with the combination on his lock.

Leaning on another locker, Desmond tapped a beat on his jean-clad thighs. “Patty’s not interested.”

“In you?” Niko opened the door and proceeded with the book exchange. “Impossible.”

“No, man, I mean, she’s not interested. She’s a muff diver, if you catch my drift.”

More terms he had to get out his dictionary of slang for. “And you know this because…?”

“I’m hurt.” Desmond frowned. “You know I check out potential hook-ups before I move in for the kill.”

Niko closed his locker and regarded Desmond with amusement. “If you ask me, you’re just fielding so you don’t get rejected.”

“Oooo, low blow, dude. Seriously.” He grimaced then swung his arm around Niko’s shoulders. “What were you doing with Arianne on the bus anyway?”

“You saw that too?”

“I should have known. A girl that fine…” He nodded his approval. “Took you long enough.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“That’s my point. You’ve never done anything you didn’t want to. Sitting with Arianne on the bus isn’t just nothing.” Desmond shook Niko. “You animal! You have to give me details.”

“And that’s your business because?”

“Come on, give a guy a break.”

“Why don’t you go after her then, if you’re so interested?”

“And risk Darla’s wrath?”

The bell rang before Niko could ask Desmond what he’d meant. He stood there somewhat worried and just a little unnerved. What connected Darla to Arianne that even Desmond stayed away?

Chapter 9 ZOMBIE WALKING

ARIANNE LEFT ART CLASS dazed and more than a little bewildered. She hadn’t expected to see Niko that morning. She’d hoped for it, certainly, but to actually see him glowing with health had her heart dancing a jig in her throat. Overnight he’d grown more delicious. It took all her control not to take a bite when he sat beside her on the bus. She never thought she’d be so happy about Ben being drafted into morning practice. Her lungs begged for more breaths of his minty scent. And that smile…it melted her insides to cherry slush.

After the surprise of seeing him with all his limbs intact had lessened, she’d let it slip that she saw the souls. Talk about not thinking. She’d sat in the bus for a couple more minutes after he’d left, staring at nothing until she managed to pull herself together enough to hurry to first period.

The fruit bowl she was supposed to paint in art came out more abstract than she’d wanted. Now, she hobbled into gym almost forgetting she needed to change. Half the class had already found seats on the bleachers. The rest milled about in groups of threes or fours on the basketball/volleyball court. She gave a shy wave to one of her classmates before hurrying to the locker room. Passing a couple of giggling girls, Arianne didn’t notice the figure sitting on the changing bench waiting for her.

“Ari, can we talk?” said a voice that brought the temperature to arctic.

Arianne turned toward the source of the question slowly, so as not to spook the primly attired, no-hair- misplaced, white tennis-shoed predator. “Darla, I didn’t see you there. Have you finally learned to vanish and reappear?”

Darla crossed her legs and placed her hands on top of each other on her knee. “What is Niko Clark to you?”

Oh God, Darla knows.

“Niko?” Arianne’s gaze darted left then right. Suddenly, the locker room seemed deserted. “We just have chemistry together,” she explained quickly. “Class is about to start. You don’t want to be late, do you?”

Narrowing her eyes, Darla asked, “Why are you changing the subject?”

“I’m merely stating the obvious. I’ve never seen you late for class.”

“Coach won’t mind. I asked permission. You know ‘girl talk.’”

Arianne didn’t like the way Darla said “girl talk.” The phrase sounded more like “torture.”

“If Niko only has chemistry with you, why did he sit beside you on the bus?”

“Darla, nothing happened. He just asked me about the experiment we had yesterday.”

“Why would Niko ask you about anything?”

“You’d have to take that up with him.”

“So, you don’t like him in any way?”

“It’s Niko Clark—what’s not to like?”

“I suppose.” She stood up and picked off imaginary lint from her creaseless clothes. Then she looked Arianne in the eye. “You won’t lie to me. Right, Ari?”

Despite shaking knees, Arianne managed to sound calm. “No, Dar. Never again.”

“Good.” She turned to go. “Now, hurry up. Wouldn’t want to be any later than we already are, right?”

Arianne waited to hear the locker room door shut before she allowed herself to breathe again. She sat on the bench and bent down with her head between her knees. “I’m screwed,” she whispered.

The foot deep locker was empty. Arianne stared and stared and stared, but nothing changed. Still empty.

“Where the hell are my books?” Her question seemed to echo within the cavern.

Her heart sank like a submarine with a gaping hole in its hull. For a second, she wanted to shrink into the deepest, darkest corner she could find and never come out. Not even for treats. Darla waiting for her before gym class should have been a sign in and of itself.

Something white made her turn to the locker door. Taped to the metal, a note had a list of names and the words:

Join me on a treasure hunt.

“I don’t have time for this,” Arianne said through her teeth, but she yanked at the treasure map and hurried to the location of the first person on the list.

The school secretary ruled from behind her desk with a froggy frown and claw-like nails in zebra print that she filed constantly. Her overworked swivel chair squeaked every time she moved—a slave beneath the heft of a fire-breathing, mumu-wearing dragon. Instead of a hoard of gold, she had paperwork.

Arianne approached with caution. “Good morning, Mrs. Whistle,” she said softly.

The nail file scratched at Mrs. Whistle’s inch long pinky nail over and over. Shh. Shh. Shh.

“Um, Mrs. Whistle—” Arianne clutched the list in her hand until the paper protested “—you wouldn’t happen to have one of my books with you by any chance, would you?”

The filing stopped. It created a vacuum of silence that had Arianne clenching her thighs together like she had