Senshi (A Katana Novel) by Cole Gibsen Page B

blip my radar. “Oh, hey, Carson. How’s it going?”
    He ran a hand through his hair, his biceps straining against the rolled cuff of his flannel shirt. “What are you doing at school so early?”
    I shrugged and walked across the hall to my locker. “Just call me Rileigh Martin, overachiever.” I turned the combination on the dial.
    His laugh was too loud to be natural, which made me halt in putting my books away. I glanced at him over my shoulder and his eyes were everywhere—on the ceiling, on the floor, down the hall—why was he so nervous? I shut my locker. “Is something up?”
    He rubbed the back of his neck. “Kinda.”
    I folded my arms and waited as Carson continued to rub his neck until the skin under his fingers turned tomato orange. I cringed. It had to hurt.
    “It’s just that, I heard you were seeing that Whitley guy over the summer,” he said.
    “Ugh.” I rolled my eyes. “Please don’t remind me.”
    For some reason that seemed to perk him up. His hand fell to his side. “Really? Does that mean that you guys are on the outs?”
    I shrugged. If only it were that simple. Between the look-alikes on the street and now the dreams, it really did feel like Whitley was haunting me.
    “Sorry,” he said, but he looked anything but. “Breaking up sucks.”
    “Meh. I’m over it.”
    His smile was immediate. “Cool. You think you’d want to do something sometime?”
    Do something? It took my brain a moment to process his request. Rileigh, you idiot, he’s asking you out. Suddenly I became aware how crowded the hall had become, not only with students gathering their books for first period but also with a cluster of guys from the skate park shouldered against the nearby lockers with their ears perked in our direction. Crap. If I didn’t play this just right I could embarrass him—and Carson was a nice guy.
    “Oh. You see … ” I swallowed and shoved a lock of hair behind my ear. “I would, Carson. It’s just that … uh … my grades haven’t been great and I’m kinda grounded until they get better.”
    His face fell. “That sucks.”
    “Yeah. It does. I’m really sorry.” I began pulling books that I didn’t need from my locker just to give my hands something to do.
    He looked over his shoulder and exchanged glances with the skate park guys. “Right. Maybe some other time.”
    I smiled weakly. “I’ll let you know.” The history book slipped from my grasp and tumbled to the floor.
    Carson bent over at the same moment I kicked my locker door back so I could reach for it. The metal door clanged against his skull.
    “Oh my God!” I reached for him even as he shuffled away from me with his hands cupped over his nose. A thin trickle of blood escaped through the gaps between his fingers. “Carson! I’m so sorry.”
    His friends howled with laughter.
    “It’s cool,” Carson said, his voice muffled. I stepped forward and he stepped back, his hands still locked on his face. “Just a nosebleed. No big deal.” His watering eyes told me otherwise.
    Stupid, stupid Rileigh! As if turning him down wasn’t bad enough I had to go and break his nose! So much for letting him down easy. I looked around the hall for something or someone that might be of help. “Do you want me to get the nurse?”
    One of his friends, a tall boy with several tattoos despite the fact he wasn’t yet eighteen, took him by the arm. “Love hurts, doesn’t it, Carson?” He laughed.
    Carson shrugged him off without taking his eyes off of me. “No. Don’t worry about it. It’s cool. I’m cool.” He let go of his nose and shook his bloody hand once, spattering the linoleum with a sprinkle of crimson—like party confetti gone horribly wrong. “I’m just going to … go. Now. I’m going now.”
    “Okay. Sorry.” As I watched him amble down the hall and dart inside the bathroom I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease.
    Was I destined to hurt everyone who crossed my path?

18
    A s soon as the