To Mend a Heart (Born in Darkness, Book 1)

Chapter Six

"It takes courage to grow up and become who you really are."

— E.E. Cummings

At the age of fourteen, on her first day as a high school freshman, Evelyn clutched her backpack—a black and purple bag decorated with skulls and bats—and entered the school to find her locker.  As she moved through the halls, all the other students went well out of their way to avoid her.  When she found her first classroom and took her seat, no one wanted to sit anywhere near her.  She ignored their prejudice and opened her notebook as the teacher told them to sit down.

At lunch, she sat in the noisy cafeteria with Ryan, Uriel's youngest son, who was otherwise sitting alone.  The young warlock was a member of his father's coven, and as the Proteja son closest to the young Princess in age, the two of them were pretty close.  He looked like his father, though his grey eyes had flecks of green, and was dressed in black leathers with chains dangling from his neck and belt, his biker jacket tied about his waist.  He had runes and magic symbols tattooed on his bare arms, as well as other areas on his muscular body that were hidden by his clothing, and multiple piercings in his ears, lip and brow.  His black hair was messy and he wore spiked cuffs on his wrists.  He was a senior that year, three years older than Evelyn.  He'd given her a ride to school on his motorcycle that morning, which had made her already-prejudiced classmates even more prejudiced.

"Are they giving you a hard time yet?" he asked her in Romanian, rummaging through his black lunchbox.

"No more than usual," she replied in the same language as she sat on the bench opposite him.  She glanced around at the girls from her homeroom class, who were staring at her and her cousin from their tables and whispering to each other.  No doubt they were discussing whatever rumor they would spread about her this year.  They'd been lying about her since kindergarten and had to be running out of tales by now.  They looked away quickly when she caught their glances and quirked a brow at them.  Sighing, she turned to Ryan and opened her own black lunchbox, then produced and began unwrapping her lasagna square.  "I really wish they'd get over it."

The warlock smiled wryly.  "Yeah, that'll be the day."

She lifted her food by the wrapper and took a bite, then swallowed before speaking.  "I mean, seriously.  When are they going to realize that I'm not a spoiled rotten Daddy's Little Princess?"

"But you are a Princess," he reminded her.  "You even said so on your first day of kindergarten."

That was true, except her classmates had never believed her story.  And the more she'd insisted her case over the years, the more they had denied it.  She'd even invited her entire first grade class to the estate for her birthday party.  That had been her biggest mistake, for when they'd seen that she lived in an actual mansion, complete with actual servants, it had convinced them from that point on that she was a stereotypical rich bitch.

Their assumption couldn't have been farther from the truth.

She certainly never acted like a Princess, let alone dressed the part.  Today, she was wearing a black denim jacket, slightly ripped black jeans, a plain white t-shirt and her favorite biker boots—a casual style she had modeled after her older brother's.  Her white hair hung past her shoulders, brushed but unadorned, and her nails, as always, were unpainted.  She was pretty enough that she didn't need cosmetics, and the midnight blue of her irises in contrast with her natural pallor already made her eyes pop.  She did, however, like to wear a thick layer of black eyeliner with a sort of wing design because her classmates found it intimidating.  She also preferred a flavorless lip balm to any sort of lipstick or gloss, but would occasionally apply either a black or crimson lipstick to add to her intimidating look.  Today, her lipstick was black and eyeliner was subtler than usual but still winged out at her temples.