bowl. She leaves her hand on mine for a second longer than is necessary. She looks at me and smiles.
“Like that.”
She mixes the batter and strands of hair fall into her face while she works. I desperately want to reach over and tuck the loose strands behind her ear, but I don’t. Mrs. Benshoff comes into our kitchen to check our progress. So far so good, which is all thanks to Sarah, since I have no idea what I’m doing.
“How do you like Ohio so far?” Sarah asks.
“It’s okay. I could have used a better first day of school.”
She smiles. “What happened, anyway? I was worried about you.”
“Would you believe it if I told you I was an alien?”
“Shut up,” she says playfully. “What really happened?”
I laugh. “I have really bad asthma. For some reason I had an attack yesterday,” I say, and feel regret at having to lie. I don’t want her to see weakness within me, especially weakness that is untrue.
“Well, I’m glad you feel better.”
We make four pancakes. Sarah stacks all of them onto one plate. She dumps an absurd amount of maple syrup over them and hands me a fork. I look at the other students. Most are eating off of two plates. I reach over and cut a bite.
“Not bad,” I say while chewing.
I’m not hungry in the least, but I help her eat all of them. We alternate bites until the plate is empty. I have a stomachache when we finish. After, she cleans the dishes and I dry them. When the bell rings, we walk out of the room together.
“You know, you’re not so bad for a sophomore,” she says, and nudges me. “I don’t care what they say.”
“Thanks, and you’re not so bad yourself for a—whatever you are.”
“I’m a junior.”
We walk in silence for a few steps.
“You’re not really going to fight Mark at the end of the day, are you?
“I need my phone back. Besides, look at me,” I say, and motion to my shirt.
She shrugs. I stop at my locker. She takes note of the number.
“Well, you shouldn’t,” she says.
“I don’t want to.”
She rolls her eyes. “Boys and their fights. Anyway, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Have a good rest of the day,” I say.
After my ninth-period class, American history, I take slow steps to my locker. I think of just leaving the school quietly, without looking for Mark. But then I realize I will forever be labeled a coward.
I get to my locker and empty my bag of the books I don’t need. Then I just stand there and feel the nervousness that begins to course through me. My hands are still normal. I think of throwing the gloves on as a precaution, but I don’t. I take a deep breath and close the locker door.
“Hi,” I hear, the voice startling me. It’s Sarah. She glances behind her, and looks back at me. “I have something for you.”
“It’s not more pancakes, is it? I still feel like I’m about to burst.”
She laughs nervously.
“It’s not pancakes. But if I give it to you, you have to promise me you won’t fight.”
“Okay,” I say.
She looks behind her again and quickly reaches into the front pocket of her bag. She pulls out my phone and gives it to me.
“How did you get this?”
She shrugs.
“Does Mark know?”
“Nope. So are you still going to be a tough guy?” she asks.
“I guess not.”
“Good.”
“Thank you,” I say. I can’t believe she went to such lengths to help me—she barely knows me. But I’m not complaining.
“You’re welcome,” she says, then turns and rushes down the hall. I watch her the whole way, unable to stop smiling. When I head out, Mark James and eight of his friends meet me in the lobby.
“Well, well, well,” Mark says. “Actually made it through the day, huh?”
“Sure did. And look what I found,” I say, holding my phone up for him to see. His jaw drops. I pass by him, head down the hall and walk out of the building.
CHAPTER EIGHT
HENRI IS PARKED EXACTLY WHERE HE SAID HE would be. I jump in the truck, still smiling.
“Good day?” he asks.
“Not bad. Got my phone back.”
“No fighting?”
“Nothing major.”
He looks at me suspiciously. “Do I even want to know what that means?”
“Probably not.”
“Did your hands come on at all?”
“No,” I lie. “How was your day?”
He follows the driveway around the school. “It was good. I drove an hour and a half to Columbus after dropping you off.”
“Why Columbus?”
“Big banks there. I didn’t want to draw suspicion by requesting a transfer for an amount of money larger than what is collectively contained within the entire town.”
I nod. “Smart thinking.”
He pulls onto the road.
“So are you going to tell me her name?”
“Huh?” I ask.
“There has to be a reason for that ridiculous smile of yours. The most obvious reason is a girl.”
“How’d you know?”
“John, my friend, back on Lorien this ol’ Cepan was quite the ladies’ man.”
“Get out of here,” I say. “There is no such thing as a ladies’ man on Lorien.”
He nods approvingly. “You’ve been paying attention.”
The Loric are a monogamous people. When we fall in love, it’s for life. Marriage comes around the age of twenty-five, give or take, and has nothing to do with law. It’s based more on promise and commitment than anything else. Henri was married for twenty years before he left with me. Ten years have passed but I know he still misses his wife every single day.
“So who is she?” he asks.
“Her name is Sarah Hart. She’s the daughter of the real-estate agent you got the house from. She’s in two of my classes. She’s a junior.”
He nods. “Pretty?”
“Absolutely. And smart.”
“Yeah,” he draws out slowly. “I’ve been expecting this for a long time now. Just keep in mind that we might have to leave at a moment’s notice.”
“I know,” I say, and the rest of the trip home is made in silence.
