Reaping Me Softly

that is.”

Niko twisted in his seat so he could bear witness to what Ben meant.

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell him,” Ben whined, stabbing Arianne with his eyes.

“Arianne?” Niko turned to her. “What haven’t you told me?”

She breathed in the rest of the oxygen in the car and said, “Darla’s going after you because of me.” She raised a hand to stall Niko from saying anything. “When Carrie got sick, I was a lost cause. I didn’t know what I was doing half the time, and I didn’t care.”

“You should have seen her back then,” Ben interjected. “Even I couldn’t get to her.”

“Anyway,” she sighed out in exasperation, “I looked for comfort in all the wrong places. And at my lowest point, I landed in the arms of Darla.”

Niko’s eyebrows rose up a fraction with every detail Arianne divulged of her story. “You’re saying you and Darla…” He made a forward circular motion with his hand to indicate that he’d left the completion of his sentence to her.

“We kissed. Several times. Nothing more.” Arianne’s gaze wondered to the school’s entrance where Darla stood with several other students, including Desmond. “When she wanted more and I told her I’d made a mistake, she vowed that if she couldn’t have me, no one would.”

“That’s a little too extreme, don’t you think?” Niko followed her gaze, unbelieving.

“You don’t know Darla the way we do.” Ben got out of the car and Arianne followed.

Niko gathered his things and joined them, locking the Mustang with a press of a button on his key. The headlights flashed once. “What does this mean for me?” he asked as he sidled up to Arianne.

“We don’t know exactly,” Ben said.

“The usual bullying tactics maybe?” Arianne added.

“Well, whatever it is—” Niko hung his arm over Arianne’s shoulders “—I can handle it.”

“But remember, you’re pretending to be human,” Arianne pointed out, avoiding Darla’s venomous glare.

“Damn,” Niko said.

Reluctantly, Niko parted with Arianne for the sole reason that their lockers were located at opposite sides of the school. He’d given her his reassurance that he’d be fine. How bad could it get? he thought, approaching his locker with his usual confident stride. Desmond came jogging up to him.

“You should’ve stayed home, dude,” he said, clapping Niko on the shoulder before he left.

Niko watched Desmond flee with his tail between his legs. Not that he could blame his supposed best friend in this life. Niko had been warned, and Desmond was only human: literally and figuratively. He’d forgive the guy his sudden disloyalty, even if a couple hundred years ago he would have executed Desmond for it.

With a shrug akin to Atlas carrying the world on his shoulders, Niko faced his locker and punched in his combination. A loud pop followed the door swinging outward. Blue paint splattered inside and on his face and the front of his shirt. Niko coughed, spitting out as much of the rotten-egg-tasting goop as he could, a gag not far behind. He wiped his eyes onto the sleeves of his shirt before opening them. It stung for a second and his vision blurred, but after blinking once, he could see clearly again.

The crowd that ebbed and floated around him stilled. Some laughed. Others whispered. When Niko faced them all, they scattered like a grenade had been thrown into their foxhole.

Not bothering to shut his locker, Niko headed for the bathroom. The assemblage parted in his wake as if a leper walked among them. Just as he reached the swing door marked with a stick figure, someone grabbed his collar from behind and shoved him inside. The tiles were slick under Niko’s boots, refusing him proper traction. The forward momentum sent them into a stall. Whoever had his shirt tripped Niko until his face plunged into the toilet bowl. Water rushed up every available crevice the upper part of his body possessed. Before Niko could react, the toilet flushed.

“This is just the beginning, Clark.” Niko recognized the lisp. It was Carter—a base on the pep squad who worshiped the ground Darla walked upon.

The pressure of being held down eased. Niko sputtered and spat, toilet water dripping all over him. He could have tossed Carter clear across any field if he wanted, but Niko kept in mind Arianne’s words. I have to pretend to be human.

Niko stood up and exited the stall. The mirror reflected a boy who looked more like a sodden dog than anything else. He approached the sink and washed his face. Every time he rubbed at his cheeks, chin, forehead, and wherever else the cursed blue paint remained, he mentally reminded himself that seeking revenge wouldn’t be prudent. It would have been a human thing to do, but… I’m above that.

“I’m above dismembering them and scattering their remains over an active volcano. I’m above having them tickled to death with peacock feathers. I’m definitely above teleporting them to the north pole to be mauled by polar bears,” he said to his reflection, which looked less blue but could still pass as a member of Blue Man Group.

The bell signaled five minutes to first period. Niko took one last glance at his ruined shirt, grieved the fact that he couldn’t blink and be clean, grabbed the backpack he’d dropped, and headed to his class.

By lunch, no one acknowledged Niko’s presence, much less looked his way. But he’d been tripped seven times, bumped on the shoulder at least eight, and sucker-punched twice. Even Mr. Todd refused to answer his questions. Not that Niko needed the answers. He’d been alive when people still referred to chemistry as alchemy, but having Mr. Todd fail to notice him did reinforce the point that Darla owned the school. Arianne wanted to complain, much to Niko’s amusement, but he declined her offer.

Niko didn’t hesitate to sit with Ben and Arianne—they became his solace in the quiet storm that raged around him—after the cafeteria ladies served him a heaping mound of mystery meat. They refused to give him anything he’d asked for.

“Darla’s staring daggers at you,” Ben said without drawing attention to the fact that he checked out Darla’s table.

“I can’t believe even the lunch ladies are on her side!” Arianne pushed away Niko’s plate of brown mush and gave him her fries.

The prickle on Niko’s nape more than proved what Ben said. He felt Darla’s rage radiating clear across the room. “I’ll be fine,” he said.

“We should at least go to the principal about this,” Arianne insisted.

“You saw Mr. Todd. He wouldn’t even look in my direction.” Niko popped a fry into his mouth. “Who’s to say she doesn’t have the principal in her pocket?”

“He’s got a point, Ari.” Ben tapped his hands on the table. “I’m surprised you didn’t change your shirt.”

Brows up, Niko asked, “You know about that?”

Tongue in cheek, Ben said, “If you’re going to be with Ari,” he glanced at his blushing friend, “you need to know that she tells me eve-ry-thing.”

“I’m surprised you’re taking all of this in stride.” Niko folded his arms over his chest.

“Ari would never lie to me. But in all honestly, now that I know you’re not human—” he whispered the last word “—I don’t want her to be with you.”

“Ben!” Arianne sat up.

Niko held onto her hand until the indignation left her face. “Ben’s only thinking of what’s best for you. And I respect him more for it.” He studied Ben. “I know you’re worried about her, but you have my word that I won’t hurt her.”

Ben met him stare for stare. “I don’t know you well enough to trust your word. I’ll have to see it.”

“I can live with that.” Niko let go of Arianne’s hand and reached out to Ben.

They shook hands, each with a firm grip.

“Are you sure you don’t want a new shirt?” Arianne fussed. She held the edge of Niko’s sleeve between two fingers. “You’re going to have to burn this one. Paint bombs are really hell on cotton.”

“Is this from experience?” Niko mentally stomped down the annoyance that pulsed at the mention of what had happened that morning.

Arianne shrugged. “Seen it many times, is all.”

“Let’s not worry about it.” Niko stared at the limp potato fingers, losing his appetite. “It’s high time I experience some human bullying. I’ll be fine.”