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“Lucas.” I knew it without having to be told.
Patrice ran, me above her, until we reached the fracas. Sure enough, Lucas and Samuel were on the floor, grappling with each other, their noses bloody.
“I said,” Lucas rasped, “leave her alone.”
“You want her for yourself, huh? Is that what you want?” Samuel’s sick grin made it clear that he Wasn’t talking about flirtation. Whatever human Samuel had been picking on — and Lucas had been defending — was a!J too appetizing as an evening snack. I realized who it must have been when Skye, amid the crowd, threw one of her books at Samuel, but he dodged it easily. “Hit me a little harder, and she’s yours, man. Take what you want.”
Lucas head — butted the guy, so hard that Samuel flopped back, stunned. Groggily, a hand to his forehead, Lucas said, “Mostly I just want you to shut up.”
The laughing crowd around us went very quiet, parting to allow Mrs. Bethany to sweep into the middle of this. She looked so different to me now that I had seen her younger, human, in love, alive. And yet she was still Mrs. Bethany, made of starched lace and long skirts and chilly authority. The fight scene got no more reaction from her than a raised eyebrow. “Mr. Ross. Mr. Younger. I take it You’ve settled this matter between yourselves?”
“Yeah, it’s settled.” Lucas got to his feet, somewhat unsteadily, and dabbed at his nose with his sleeve. Samuel continued to glare up at him, like he might tackle him anew whether the headmistress was watching or not.
“Mr. Younger?” Mrs. Bethany repeated. “I hope I won’t have to undertake any .. . disciplinary action. I suspect you wouldn’t care for my methods.”
“Yeah,” Samuel said, which wasn’t exactly an answer, but he rose and slouched off without another word.
As everyone else went about their business, scattering from Mrs. Bethany like leaves in a strong gale, I wanted to talk to Lucas — but Skye was a little faster, reaching him before I had a chance to say a word. “Thanks for standing up for me.”
“No prob.”
She had a crooked sort of smile that somehow made her beauty more approachable. How come my funny smile only made me look silly? “You’re kind of like a one — man SWAT team, you know. Who would ‘ve thought anybody would need so much rescuing in high school?”
Skye was only making a joke, but it obviously struck a chord for Lucas. He took her arm by the elbow and said, “We’ ve gotta talk.”
“Our test is starting in five minutes — and don’t you need to clean up after the fight?”
“Forget cleaning up. Forget the test. This is important.”
I followed them back into the stairwell; Patrice cast a worried glance after us but didn’t try to join them. Good thing, too, because she probably would’ve freaked out. Knowing Lucas as I did, I knew what he was about to say — and I thought it was a good idea.
It was time to tell Skye the truth.
“What’s up?” Skye’s expression clouded as they stood together in the stairwell, light from the narrow arched window illuminating her dark hair. “Are you finally going to talk about what’s wrong with you?”
Lucas grew wary. “What do you mean?”
“You’re just so … angry,” she whispered, her voice gentle. “So angry about everything, all the time. I’m not saying you’re wrong to be angry, but Lucas — it’s burning you up inside. What is it? Can you tell me?”
If she’d tried to hint or trick it out of him, Lucas would never have spoken. But simple honesty always broke down his barriers. “My girlfriend, 171 Bianca . . . she died last summer. I still love her. I always will.”
The truth, if not the whole truth, and it had the power to warm and thrill me all over again. What surprised me was the power that it had over Skye; her pale blue eyes instantly welled with tears. “I lost somebody this summer, too. My older brother.”
“Oh, jesus.” Lucas was clearly caught off guard. “Skye, I’m sorry.”
She squeezed his hand. “Believe me, I get it. I might hide the anger better than you do, but sometimes I just want to . . .” Skye breathed out in frustration but managed to smile for him as she wiped away one tear. “Was Bianca just — amazing? I bet she was amazing.”
Lucas’s expression faltered. Talking about me in the past tense reminded him of my death and brought the pain back. “You have no idea.”
“If it helps any, I believe — no, I know — the dead aren’t truly gone.” She spoke with the deep assurance that could only have come from growing up in a haunted house. Skye knew about the undead, at least on that level. “They watch us. They’re close by. And I think they realize how much we love them, maybe more than they did when they were alive.”
As Skye finished saying this, I took the risk of brushing, gently, against Lucas’s hand. I saw him straighten, reassured of my presence and safety, and yet more emotional than before. “I believe that, too.”
“She’d want you to be happy,” Skye said. “Not angry all the time.”
Tm trying.” I knew Lucas was speaking to me as much as to Skye.
They just watched each other for a second, struggling for composure. After swallowing hard, Skye managed to say, “So, what did you want to tell me?”
