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“You’re not thinking about sneaking out, are you?” Lennon asks.

There is only one reason I want outside after midnight, and it has nothing to do with the dead. It has nothing to do with boys. It has everything to do with my dreams.

“No.”

Lennon sounds relieved. “Good. You won’t like it, anyway.”

“Why...?”

Lennon starts to slow her pace and hesitates. “It’s just...things are different after midnight. The air feels...heavy and all the lights flicker. Sometimes I swear the wind moans.”

“So, you’ve been out past curfew?”

It takes Lennon a moment to answer. “Once.”

It’s the only word she offers, but the way she delivers it—so light, like a feather coming to rest on a still lake—ripples through me, and I know whatever she saw after midnight is something she doesn’t want to remember. Tension builds between us—the push and pull of my wish for answers and her resistance, but I don’t want to press her because I need at least one friend so I can prove to Mom I’m trying.

We slow to a walk after running two laps. I look to see if Coach David is watching—he isn’t. Then I glance toward the field and find Shy looking back at me. He has his helmet cradled in his arm, his blond hair sticks to his forehead. I catch his stare before he has a chance to hide his narrow eyes and tight lips. He tries to recover, smiling brightly and waving. I wave back, but his expression makes me think what happened in art has left him both curious and suspicious of me.

“It’s almost unfair,” Lennon says.

“What is?”

“The way he’s making you a target.”

I’m about to say how ridiculous that is, when Natalie sticks her foot out as we pass. I don’t have time to save myself—I trip and fall. My knees and hands hit the asphalt hard, and loose pieces of gravel bite into my skin. Just as people start to laugh, I twist and knock my leg into the back of Natalie’s. She falls onto her backside, stunned.

No one is laughing now.

I’m on my feet in seconds. My chest rises and falls quickly, and I clutch my fists until my fingers hurt, the stab of the thread surfacing in my palm makes me aware my body feels it is in danger, and if I’m not careful, not only will I expose myself in front of everyone, but I’ll kill Natalie, too.

I learned the hard way that the dead aren’t the only souls I can capture.

She scrambles to her feet. “Are you sure you want to start this, Tights?”

“You made the first move. What’s the matter? You afraid to finish?”

Natalie offers a cold laugh, and I notice her stance—feet spread apart, fists tightened at her sides. She’s ready to fight. “Afraid of you?”

“Natalie.” The voice that interrupts us is Shy’s. He’s pushed through the crowd and has his hand on her shoulder. “No.”

“You’re wrong not to be afraid of me, Tights.”

A sharp whistle blows. Coach David comes forward. “Rivera, new girl, break it up!”

Natalie glares at me before being dragged away by Shy, and the rest of the crowd splinters reluctantly. I’m left standing with Lennon, who looks at me as if I’ve grown two heads.

“That was stupid,” she says. “But awesome! How did you learn to move like that?”

“Like what?”

“A freakin’ ninja!” she exclaims. “You moved so fast—I couldn’t figure out what was going on.”

I don’t move that fast. This is the problem with not keeping my skills in check—everyone wants to exaggerate them. Tomorrow I’ll be the freak who moves at the speed of light.

“I’m pretty sure you don’t know what you saw.”

Lennon folds her arms over her chest. “I saw you take Natalie down like you were some closet martial artist. You don’t have to hide the fact that you’re a badass. You’re going to want everyone to know after today because Natalie’ll make your life a living hell.”

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