“Mickey,” I whispered. “What the hell is a castle doing in Colorado?”
“Donors,” he muttered in reply. “They were some pretty eccentric people, from what I understand. But the inside is pretty modern, though.”
I almost expected a drawbridge to lower for our bus, but it was a modern castle, so an electric wrought-iron gate sprung open instead.
“Well, that’s one way to keep kids from going AWOL,” I muttered as the gate slammed shut behind us.
The bus circled around a loop and parked in front of the large school doors.
“So, a few things I need to tell you,” Mickey said as we climbed down the bus steps and walked toward the school’s large, double wooden doors.
“Yeah?” I said as I stared up at turrets—real actual turrets—with flags.
“First off,” he said, “I’m in mostly senior-level classes.”
I slowly looked him over. “How?”
“Homeschooled, remember?” he said with a shrug.
I rolled my eyes. “Okay, little brother might be in my classes. Got it. Anything else I should know?” Please say no, please say no.
“And I’m outrageously popular, so you’ve got an automatic in.” He winked.
I chuckled, grinning at him. He smiled pleasantly back.
“There’s one more thing, but it’s kind of important.”
He stopped, reaching for my forearm. The obstinate part of me wanted to keep walking, but I played along instead and let him bring me to a stop.
“What?”
“Try not to be too sarcastic.”
I stuck my tongue out at him and turned away.
Mickey grabbed my upper arm. “No, I’m serious. No joking, no sarcasm—at least not yet,” he added when I leveled a glare at him. “Just until you get a feel for things around here.”
I looked down at his hand until he moved it.
“I’m really tired of people telling me how to act.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Why? How are they telling you to act?”
“Normal.”
He laughed. I frowned, but that only made him laugh harder.
“Sorry,” he said, as he wiped a tear from his eye. “I’m not saying normal. I mean, you’re already fairly normal.” He chuckled. “All things considered, anyway.”
“Gee, thanks.”
He shook his head, shedding his smile. “Look, just act neutral. Pretend that everyone is way sensitive, and they get offended over the littlest things.”
“Why? Do they?”
He shrugged. “Usually.”
“But middle school should have beat that out of them. This is high school.”
“I know.” He sighed. “Just trust me okay? I’m trying to help you get a good start.”
My gut knew Mickey was telling the truth the same way it knew Deena had lied when she said my face looked better. But that didn’t mean I liked what he was saying.
My jaw hurt from clenching my teeth, reminding me that makeup, while magical, didn’t get rid of the damage hidden underneath. Irritated, I walked to the doors again.
“Promise?” He caught up to me.
I shook my head again. “No. I’m going to act normal.”
“Normal human or normal you?”
“Normal normal,” I said pulling open the school doors into…holy fashion catalogue, who were these people?
Drop-dead gorgeous blondes, brunettes, platinums—lots of platinums. Apparently, that was a thing here. And it worked. My heart stopped as gorgeous male physiques joked with each other, jostled down the hallways, and leaned against lockers. And then it plummeted, registering the girls walking confidently, gorgeously tall and looking like they competed for modeling gigs. Scratch that, they already had modeling gigs, and the school halls were their catwalks.
Of course, each and every one of them had shadowy images that seemed to lurk underneath their gorgeous exterior, but I studiously ignored the lashing tails, the tucked-in wings, and the pointy ears, because that was all me and my meds.
Now if only I could ignore the fact that I was the only one that didn’t belong on the runway. Goodbye, any shot of a boyfriend. Not that I’d wanted one, but now that I didn’t have a chance, I mourned the loss of at least the possibility. I might as well have been Igor over here, for all the time I took concealing my bruises.
“Mouth,” some guy—Mickey, my brain supplied—muttered in my ear. I shut it. “Where, what… Is this, like, some top-secret genetic lab or something?”
“What?”
“I mean, you guys live in a decent-sized town not on GPS, go to a castle for school, and all of you guys are, like, gorgeous supermodels?” I eyed him. “Minus you. What are you, the next experiment? Or a botched one?”
As soon as Mickey laughed, a wave of female eyes swept over the halls and fastened onto me. No, onto Mickey. And then they flicked over me, their gazes curious, careful. No way. This had to be some parallel universe.
“Mickey,” I whispered under my breath. “They’re checking you out.”
He shrugged.
“You weren’t lying.” I had to be in shock—I rarely bothered stating the obvious.
He grinned. “Kella, I never lie.”
I peered at him then, trying to see if I’d missed something, but between his skinny frame and cheesy grin and the guy walking past us who looked an awful lot like the statue of David that I studied in art last year—minus the shadowy pointed ears that I was determined to ignore—I was coming up empty.
“What have we here?” An arm settled around my shoulders and the smell of honeysuckle fell over me like a blanket. My gaze jerked up to see a blond, blue-eyed, gorgeous younger version of my foster mother. I did a double take.
“Bridgette.” Mickey sounded less than thrilled. But his lack of enthusiasm didn’t put Bridgette off in the least.
“It’s the newbie! I love newbies! How do you like your new crib?”
My brows scrunched together. “Huh?”
“You know, your new pad. Your…” She thought for a second. “Digs.”
“Oh. Uh.” I glanced over at Mickey. Was she serious? “Good, I guess.”
Mickey raised his eyes heavenward, as if praying for patience. “We were about to go to—”
“The front office? Here, I’ll take
