My Darling Arrow (St. Mary's Rebels 1)

Wyn, who lives in a rich neighboring town called Wuthering Garden, was sent here by her parents because she had a fight with them about applying to art programs when the time came. And she got so angry that she drew graffiti on her dad’s car. Although, I can’t imagine Wyn ever being angry with her silver eyes and soft voice. She’s a pure artist. A girl who dreams.

Poe, who’s from Middlemarch, another neighboring town, was sent here by her guardian because she’d prank him and he got really tired of slipping on banana peels and finding frogs in the middle of his bed. I can definitely see Poe doing something like that. She’s a girl who loves trouble, and I say that with all the love in my own troublemaking heart.

Then came Callie’s turn.

“Well, my oldest brother sent me here. Conrad. I’ve got four older brothers by the way and we live in Bardstown. No parents. Anyway, he sent me here because I stole a guy’s car. And drove it into the lake,” she said.

When I asked her why, all she said was, “Because he lied to me.”

Then Wyn jumped in. “Don’t waste your breath. She’ll never tell the whole story. We’ve asked a million times.”

Poe nodded. “Yup. All we’ve ever gotten is a name, a very sexy name: Reed Jackson.”

So now at the bar, Callie stiffens at my question but jerks out a nod.

Poe is next to speak up. “He is Reed Jackson. Wow, I didn’t realize how…”

“How gorgeous he is?” says Wyn, picking up Poe’s trail.

“Exactly,” Poe exclaims. “Gorgeous.”

“That’s the word, yes,” I breathe out.

“Yeah. He’s gorgeous,” Callie says the first words since we all saw him, standing there acting like he owns the place.

Then she breaks the intense stare-down and looks at me. He, however, keeps the connection and friction in his gaze well and alive.

“And a liar and an asshole. So he’s basically a villain. A gorgeous villain,” she says with a tight smile. “Oh, and he’s here. Fantastic. So I’m gonna need a drink before I go over there and drown him in the lake. Fuck Will, the bartender, I’m stealing his whiskey.”

And then she marches away from us and toward the bar.

“What just happened?” Wyn asks.

“I think we might need to keep an eye on this guy,” Poe says.

“Yeah. And on Callie too,” I say and make to follow my friend.

But Poe stops me. “I don’t think you should go after her.”

“What?”

“Yup. You’ve got other things to worry about,” Poe says, raising her eyebrows.

Wyn looks over my shoulder. “Yeah. Something like him.”

Him.

They don’t have to tell me anything more than that. I immediately know who him is.

In fact, I feel him.

I feel the skin on the back of my neck prickle and heat up. My entire spine prickles and heats up.

“You should go talk to him,” Wyn continues. “We can take care of Callie.”

“Yeah, give him hell,” Poe says fiercely.

Again, I didn’t tell them what happened. But they guessed that something awful had occurred back at the library, when I came out all red and shaky. And then he came out, a few minutes behind me with his jaw gritted, looking all arrogant and aloof as he left the building without sparing anyone a glance.

My friends asked me if they needed to do something about it. If they needed to prank him or if it was serious enough to go report it to someone. I told them I could handle it. That it was between me and him.

And I was right.

I am going to handle it because it is between me and him.

Still feeling him at my back, I exhale a breath. “Okay.”

They both give me smiles before squeezing my shoulder and taking off after Callie.

At last, I turn around.

My palm stings as soon as I catch sight of him.

He’s in the same corner as before. The one he was bursting out of. The same vintage jacket too that makes him look like a daredevil. A bad, rebellious boy. And the same cap, hiding the top of his face and his dirty blond hair.

Like the last time, he also has a girl by his side. This one is a brunette. She seems pretty interested in him, and why wouldn’t she be? I bet she’s counting her lucky stars that she gets to talk to a superstar athlete, The Blond Arrow.

Besides girls find him irresistible, don’t they?

That’s what he told me last night. And he’s not even wrong about it because they do.

I do.

And I am crazy for him. Crazy and stupid and sad. All for him.

But I’m also going to give him a piece of my mind, and he probably knows that. Because it’s all reflected on my face, my tipped-up chin and heaving chest. And unlike the last time when I found him engrossed in the girl, he is engrossed in me.