“I have Study Hall,” I say before I can think about how irrelevant that is.
Shayne reaches out and takes my backpack off my shoulder. “Okay, can I walk you there?”
“Sure.” I work to keep my voice calm, like I’m not over-the-moon that I’m being walked to class by the most gorgeous guy in the world. We turn the corner, and at least seven other girls stare our way. I pretend I don’t notice though I can’t believe he’s actually picked me to walk with. I keep wanting to glance over at him to make sure he doesn’t disappear, but manage to control myself.
I wrack my brain and finally think of a conversation starter. “What’d you think of the lecture today?”
God, that’s so lame.
Shayne shifts the backpack so it’s on his other arm. This leaves his hand dangerously close to mine.
“Tedious,” he says.
“Tell me about it,” I say. “If I have to hear Mr. Kaiser discuss conspiracy theory for this entire month, I’m going to pull my hair out.”
Shayne stops walking, so of course I do, too. And he reaches up and takes a piece of my hair between his fingers. “Please don’t. It’s so beautiful.”
And I’m left speechless once again.
He lets go of my hair. “I hear you have plans on Friday.”
He’s heard about my plans? Reese must’ve told him. Maybe they’re friends. I nod and avert my eyes, hoping he doesn’t see what I’m really thinking. I want it to be him instead. I want him to be the one who’s asked me to sneak out.
He touches my tattoo, and the shock from his touch travels up my arm and through my body, sending chills to places I only think about once the lights are out.
“It’s Greek,” Shayne says.
“Chloe says it means
“Sacrifice,” he says.
I look down at his hand. “What?”
He traces a letter with his index finger. “It says
“You know Greek?” Is that the best thing I can think of to say?
Shayne nods, and his black hair settles on his shoulders. “Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”
“It’s not really the most common language to learn.”
“Well, it should be.” He rubs his thumb across the tattoo, and I know he’s feeling the raised skin underneath.
I stop breathing and try to keep the light smile on my face though my knees are about to collapse.
“I like it.” He rubs the tattoo a final time and gives my arm a squeeze, and then he lets go. “Have fun on your date,” he says, and the happiness evaporates from his face.
“Thanks.” I’m not sure what other response I can possibly give. The electricity from his touch still pumps inside me, and I hope it will never go away.
“Be careful. Okay?” His brown eyes darken, and the look on his face from class returns like he wants to tear someone limb from limb. But then he blinks, and it fades.
Careful? “Do I need to be?” I say it half in jest and half not.
Shayne nods. “Yeah, Piper. You do.”
Anticipation and nerves blend together and flutter in my stomach. “Oh.”
He opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something else, but then shuts it again.
“What?” I say.
He shakes his head. “Nothing.”
So I start walking again, but I’m not two steps forward when he puts his hand on my arm and stops me.
I turn and face him.
“Maybe we can get together sometime.” His eyes don’t leave mine as he speaks.
My heart’s going crazy inside my chest. I’m about to pass out. “That sounds nice.” I focus on each word, making sure they come out clearly.
His mouth turns up at the sides. “Maybe coffee.”
I nod and decide against using my mom as an excuse. I skipped school to get a tattoo. I can certainly find a way to sneak in a cup of coffee. “Coffee is great.”
I hope he’ll suggest right now, but he doesn’t. He only turns and starts walking again. And we walk the rest of the way to Study Hall in silence.
Shayne hands me my backpack at the door, and I sling it over my shoulder. I wonder how he’ll say goodbye. I wonder if he’ll name a time for us to get together.
He doesn’t. He makes it simple. “See ya,” he says. And in his simplicity I can’t help but feel I ruined my chances with him. Maybe it was up to me to suggest a time.
“Yeah, see ya,” I say, and I watch as he turns and walks away. I don’t move until he disappears from my sight.
Chapter 7
Bathroom
Before I head into the library, I duck into the bathroom. There’s no way I can handle Study Hall yet. My legs are about to collapse under me, and I’m sweating so much, a trickle moves down my cleavage. I drop my backpack and lean against the sink, scanning my FON to turn on the water. There are two temperatures. Warm and hot. I go with the warm and splash it on my face, closing my eyes, letting it wash over me. When it times out, I turn it on again, doing this until my heart slows down. I don’t care that water has gotten in my hair. It’s pulled back anyway and tied with the red ribbon.
“Do you know your fate?”
I freeze at the sound of Tanni’s voice, and my chest tightens. I look up, but there’s no one in the mirror. Only me, water dripping off my face, staring back. I don’t stop looking, and my calmed heart has started beating so hard I feel the pulsing in my neck. Her soulless eyes are on me, staring at me. I feel them even if I don’t see her.
“Do you know your fate?”
I turn, whipping around to see Tanni, empty eye sockets and all, staring back at me. She’s been there the whole time, behind me as I washed my face. Watching me with those vacant eyes.
“Why are you asking me that?”
Tanni shrugs, and bracelets on her arms jingle, the sound filling the emptiness of the bathroom. “It’s my job. It’s what I do.”
“Does this have something to do with your global warming protest?” I ask even though I know it doesn’t. Why would my fate have anything to do with the Global Heating Crisis?
She smiles and shows her teeth. They’re white—almost glowing. I can nearly see through them, but I try not to stare. But not being able to look at her eyes or her mouth, I’m running out of places to focus.
“Not today,” she says, licking her lips. And she takes a step closer to me.
I back against the sink. There’s nowhere left for me to go.
“Who are you?” I manage to say. My throat’s dry, and the water I splashed on my face is gone, replaced by a thin layer of sweat.
She takes another step toward me, and I think she’s going to grab me again. I pull my arms behind me and use them to prop myself up on the sink. I could jump up and kick her and run out. But my feet are rooted to the hard tile floor compelling me to stay.
“I’m your friend,” Tanni says, and she rests her hand on my shoulder. “I want you to always believe that.”
