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“I did. But I—I couldn’t get back into the school right away. They were patrolling. Then they realized where you guys were and took off. I only got in here about three minutes before you did.”
Patrice shrugged as she reached for her nightshirt. I did my best to get changed without turning away from my corner. The conversation was over, and I’d successfully lied to my roommate for the first time.
Maybe I should’ve told Patrice why I was late. Most girls would probably be bubbling over to tell everyone all about the gorgeous guy they’d just made a connection with. But I liked the secret. That made it more special, somehow, the fact that only I knew. Lucas likes me, and I like him back. I think maybe, soon, we’re going to be together.
That last thought was probably taking it a little far, I decided as I slid beneath the blankets again. All the same, I couldn’t help myself. My mind was racing too fast for me to sleep, and I smiled against my pillowcase.
He’s mine.
“Heard there was quite a party last night,” Dad said, as he placed a hamburger and fries in front of me at my family’s table.
“Mmm-hmmm,” I answered through a mouthful of fries. Then I caught myself and mumbled, “I mean, that’s what I heard, too.”
Mom and Dad traded looks, and I got the impression that they were more amused than ticked off. That was a relief.
This was the first of what would be our weekly Sunday dinners. Every second I could be back with my family in the faculty apartment instead of surrounded by Evernight kids was good with me. Even though they were trying to act all casual about it, I could tell that my parents had missed me almost as much as I’d missed them. Duke Ellington was on the stereo, and despite the parental interrogation, everything was again right with the world.
“Things didn’t get out of hand, did they?” Mom had apparently decided to ignore the fact that I’d denied being there. “From what I heard, it was mostly beer and music.”
“Not that I know of.” It wasn’t really a denial; I mean, I did only attend the party for about fifteen minutes.
was a class-A jerk, and we both knew it. “No, of course not. You’re just kind of, well, confrontational. I mean, do you really hate all these guys so much? I don’t like them, but you—it’s like you can’t even stand the sight of them.”
“I trust my instincts.”
I couldn’t really argue with that. “They’re people you don’t want on your bad side, not if you can help it.”
“Bianca, if you and I—if we—”
If we what? I could think of so many answers to that question, and I liked most of them. Our eyes met, locking so that it seemed impossible to look away. Lucas’s intensity was almost overpowering even when it wasn’t focused on me, and when it was—like now, as he studied every feature of my face, weighed all his words to me before he spoke them aloud—he could take my breath away.
Finally Lucas finished, “I couldn’t stand it if they took it out on you. And eventually they would.”
He was protecting me? That would have been endearing, if it hadn’t been crazy. “You know, I don’t think I have any social cred for you to damage.”
“Don’t be so sure.”
“Don’t be so stubborn.”
We were quiet together for a while. Moonlight filtered down between the leaves of ivy, and Lucas was close enough that I could recognize his scent—something that reminded me of cedar and pine, like the woods that surrounded us, as if he were somehow a part of this dark place.
“I’ve kinda messed things up, haven’t I?” Lucas sounded almost as bashful as I felt. “I’m not used to this.”
I raised one eyebrow. “Talking to girls?” Looking the way Lucas did, I doubted that.
However, there was no mistaking his sincerity when he nodded. The devilish glint had faded from his eyes. “I’ve spent a lot of years moving around. Traveling from place to place. Anybody I cared about—it seemed like they were gone too soon. I guess I learned to keep people at a distance.”
“You made me feel like I’d been stupid to trust you.”
“Don’t feel that way. This is my problem. I’d hate for it to be yours.”
My whole life had been spent in a small town, and I’d always thought that made me worse at meeting strangers. But now that Lucas said it, I could see that a peripatetic existence might have the same effect: isolate you, turn your thoughts inward, so that reaching out to others was the hardest thing in the world.
So perhaps his anger was a lot like my shyness. It was a sign that we were each lonely. Maybe we didn’t have to stay lonely too much longer.
Quietly, I said, “Aren’t you tired of running and hiding? I know I am.”
“I don’t run and hide,” Lucas retorted. Then he was silent for a second, considering. “Well, damn.”
