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And then she was writing.
What was she doing?
He couldn’t figure it out. Then Ms. Anderson was calling for the papers to be passed forward and telling them to use the rest of the time as a free period while she reviewed them.
“Hey,” he whispered.
Layne didn’t turn her head, just pulled a slim paperback out of her book bag and started reading.
He flicked a broken piece of pencil her way. It hit her on the arm.
She sighed and looked over. “Seriously?”
“What did you do?”
Her cheeks turned pink again. She looked back at the book.
Her voice was so small he almost didn’t hear her.
“You got an eighty.”
She’d fixed his test?
Gabriel couldn’t decide whether he was furious or giddy with relief. “Why?” he snapped. “Why would you do that?”
The substitute cleared her throat near the front of the room.
“Is there a problem?”
“No.” Damn, his voice was breaking. He coughed. “Sorry.”
When the bell rang, Layne bolted.
Gabriel wasn’t on four sports teams for nothing. He blocked her in the hall, cornering her against the lockers. She was a tiny thing, at least ten inches shorter than he was.
“Why did you do that?” he said.
She looked up at him, her binder clutched protectively against her chest. Her voice was still soft, quiet, somehow carrying over the students in the between-class rush. “Your brother took your test for you, didn’t he?”
Gabriel felt hot, flushed, even though it was the truth. For some reason it was humiliating to have her figure it out.
He put a hand against the locker beside her head and leaned in. “Are you going to tell anyone?”
She swallowed. “You bully everyone who helps you?”
ER 2
The day started with U.S. History and English, two classes Gabriel couldn’t give a crap about. He kept thinking about Becca’s father, how they were going to sit in the food court and have a conversation with the guy.
Now her father wanted to help. Yeah, right.
The Homecoming dance wasn’t the first time the Guide had nearly killed them. Gabriel could still remember the explosion that had taken out the bridge two blocks from school and almost killed Gabriel. The fire hadn’t hurt him, but concrete didn’t make for a soft landing.
And then there was the way the Guide had attacked them on the soccer field. The way he’d taken Nick, broken leg and all.
The way Gabriel hadn’t been able to stop him.
His pencil snapped in his hand.
