Hyde treating Jekel? It still sounded like a terrible idea to me. But the girl who stood on the porch hugging herself and venturing a small wave as I walked into the night—she was definitely getting to me. Jill looked so alone standing there, with so much to face inside that gloomy old house, that I nearly turned back and volunteered to sit with her all night, even though it would mean angering my father, who would not like arriving home to find me gone. Yet I kept thinking about Jill’s mother. What if Mrs. Jekel started babbling again or thrashing? Jill would need someone to help her. Perhaps to hold her again, reassuring her.
I hesitated on the sidewalk and actually turned around, having decided that I would go back. But Jill had gone inside and the porch was empty, so I got into my car to drive home.
Yes, Jill Jekel was getting to me.
Unfortunately, through me—just as I’d feared—worse things were destined to get to her.
Chapter 25
Jill
I MADE GOOD on my promise to meet Tristen the next night, even later than planned, because I had to make sure my mom was sound asleep for the night. Although Mom had slept most of the day, it was almost eleven o’clock before I was convinced that her breathing was deep and steady enough for me to leave her alone.
I got to the school first and tucked myself against the building in the shadows. The parking lot was still dark, and I was still scared—scared to be by myself and at the prospect of being alone with Tristen, too. But I was even more desperate than before. I’d called the nursing supervisor to say that Mom was sick, promising that she’d try to make it to work in a day or two, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t going to happen. And if Mom missed a bunch of work again . . . maybe even got fired . . . How would I pay the bills?
I clutched the box to my side, shivering, wishing that Tristen would hurry up. And then I saw him pass under a streetlight, coming toward me. He strode across the parking lot, purposeful, and I realized that I was at least less scared of Tristen than I was of empty parking lots. Maybe I was even a little eager to see him. Or maybe my heart just beat faster because we were about to trespass again.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said when I stepped out of the shadows. “I decided to hitchhike so my father wouldn’t find my car gone if he arrived home before me.”
“You shouldn’t hitchhike,” I told him as he bent to pick the lock. “It’s dangerous.”
“I won’t hurt a random stranger,” he said. “I told you. My dream is specific.”
I honestly wasn’t sure if Tristen was joking, so I didn’t say anything. When the lock gave, he stood back and opened the door, and once again the black hallway yawned ahead of me, and I hesitated.
“I spoke to my father, Jill,” Tristen said, voice soft in the still night. “He’ll meet with your mother if you can get her to his office at Severin tomorrow at five o’clock.”
“I’ll have her there,” I said, grateful, relieved . . . and completely aware of what Tristen meant when he said that. We had struck yet another bargain. “Thank you.”
I stepped past him then and trespassed into the school. As I walked by, he took the box from me, smoothly but decisively, and I knew the deal was really sealed, and there would be no turning back.
Chapter 26
Jill
“MAKE SURE YOU cap the ethyl alcohol before lighting the burner,” I reminded Becca, who was distracted by Seth Lanier’s stupid miming of drinking his share of alcohol at the station behind us. “It’s really flammable.”
“I told you that station is dangerous,” Darcy Gray chimed in, turning to give us a pointed look.
“It’s not really the burner . . .” I started to object, but Darcy had already turned back around, ignoring me. Todd had caught the exchange, though, and he glanced back, smirking until Darcy flicked his arm.
“Todd, get the filtration flask.”
“Okay, Darce,” he grumbled. “You don’t have to boss me so much.” But I noticed that he did as he was told.
“Becca—the alcohol?” I reminded my own partner, tapping her shoulder.
“This is so boring,” Becca groaned, reluctantly rejoining our experiment. She capped the alcohol. “I don’t know how you stand this stuff.”
“It’s interesting to me,” I said with a shrug. “I like to think about how we can control the smallest things in the universe and get reactions or make new substances.”
“Yawn,” Becca said as I handed her the water I’d measured. She poured it into our flask, but her eyes shifted toward me. “You know, Jill, that test is coming up.”
I stiffened, bracing myself. I couldn’t cheat. It was bad enough that I was sneaking into the school every night with Tristen, dodging the custodial staff if they fell behind schedule and worked late. “Becca—”
I was spared answering when I felt a hand clamp down on my shoulder. “Jill.”
I spun to face Tristen, blushing and nearly knocking over the whole apparatus of our experiment. How was it that, although we were partners, Tristen still flustered me? “What’s up?” I asked.
“Can you study this evening?”
“Yes, I guess so,” I agreed, understanding the veiled invitation.
“Good,” Tristen said with a glance at Becca.
“Hey, Tris.” She greeted him with a toss of her auburn hair. “How’s it going?”
Was there a slight flush on Becca’s cheeks, too? Or was that just my imagination?
I stood between them, feeling very plain again. And stupidly, pointlessly jealous. Had something really happened between them? Was Becca really the girl in Tristen’s nightmares? If so, she had no idea the lengths that he—that we—were going to, in order to supposedly protect her. And she wanted me to cheat for her on top of that.
“We should get back to work,” I
