Crave (Harlequin Teen)

of the day, I had to focus on keeping my energy levels in check so I didn’t accidentally set fire to stuff. It got exhausting sometimes, constantly having to keep the power under control, when all I really wanted was to be normal and play football, hopefully for the NFL someday. But even there, magic was both a help and a pain. It helped me run faster and hit guys harder. But it also meant I had to be careful not to break necks or send guys flying too far when I slammed into them. Anybody not in the Clann would be able to just relax and enjoy the game.
    Unfortunately, my parents had other plans for me that had nothing to do with football at all. They expected me to follow in my dad’s footsteps and become the next Clann leader. Because of that, I’d had to practically beg just to be allowed to play. Any other parents in East Texas would have sacrificed an arm and a leg for their kid to play high-school football.
    Not to mention, because of the Clann, I’d had to stop being friends with Savannah. I still had nightmares about the way Savannah had looked at me when I’d had to tell her we couldn’t hang out together anymore. The raw hurt in her eyes that day, and every time she’d looked at me since, was all the Clann’s fault.
    Someday, somehow, I would find a way to get it through my dad’s head that I would never follow in his footsteps. Then I’d be free. Free to be friends with anyone I wanted. Free to date anyone I wanted…
    Clenching my jaw, I stared at Savannah’s back. Obviously she was sick. She should be seeing a doctor right now, not trying to tough it out in school. She would have passed clean out if I hadn’t caught her.
    A foot kicked the side of my leg. What the…? I turned to my left to find Anne Albright glaring at me.
    “Quit staring,” she hissed.
    I scowled at her, hoping she’d back off and leave me alone. The last thing I needed was somebody else telling me what to do. Especially today.
    I went back to staring at Savannah. Anne kicked me again, the little wench. The sting spread up the side of my calf. I bit back another curse. That better heal before practice.
    “Anne, keep your feet to yourself please,” Mr. Chandler warned from his desk. “Or do I need to put you in time-out?”
    Nice. I grinned.
    “No, sir,” Anne muttered, sounding murderous. But at least she didn’t kick me anymore.
    When the final bell rang, I jerked in my desk, my nerves strung as tight as if I were on the field at game time. Finally, Savannah could go home. Or even better, to a doctor.
    Anne got up, circled around to Savannah’s desk and shook her awake. “Hey, Sav, time to go home.”
    “Ungh,” Savannah groaned. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out.
    I jumped to my feet without thinking it through. “Need some help?”
    “Not from you, no.” Anne slung one of Savannah’s pale arms over her shoulders so she could pull her up.
    “Stop, this looks ridiculous,” Savannah croaked.
    “Oh, who cares, pretty princess?” Anne snapped. “Let’s go. Gotta get you to your grandma’s car now, and it’s a long walk.”
    Yeah, talk about ridiculous. They would take forever to get to the parking lot, and I could carry Savannah there in about five seconds. She probably weighed all of fifty pounds. Only problem was all the witnesses we’d have. The Clann elders—especially my parents—would hear about it through the local grapevine before I could even get home from practice.
    So I stood there and did nothing, grinding my teeth and feeling like a grade A jerk for letting Anne help Savannah out of the classroom all by herself. Then I saw Savannah’s backpack and books still under her desk. At least I could do this without attracting Clann attention.
    The girls had made faster progress than I’d figured. They were near the parking lot by the time I caught up with them. Knowing Anne would bite my head off again if I took Savannah’s free arm to help, I stayed a few paces back.
    Anne didn’t say anything to me as she guided Savannah into the passenger seat of a car waiting at the curb. “Mrs. Evans, she’s really sick,” Anne told the driver through the open passenger door. “I’m pretty sure she’s running a fever. She wasn’t feeling good at lunchtime, either, said she was tired and didn’t eat anything.”
    “Hmm. Okay, thank you, Anne. I’ll get her home and fixed right up,” Savannah’s grandmother promised. I snuck a peek at her. She looked like a sweet, little old lady,