Matt tips his chin at me. “Better watch out, new girl.”
“She has a name,” Luka says.
I peek at Leela. She dumps her food in the trash and hurries out of the cafeteria, keeping her head down the entire way.
*
After school, I find Leela in the locker bay. As soon as she sees me, she slams her locker shut and hurries away. I hurry after her. “Leela!”
If she hears me, she doesn’t stop.
“Leela,” I call again, weaving my way through students, trying to close the gap between us. “Leela, will you wait?” I grab her arm and she spins around, her expression a strange mixture of hurt and hard. I let go. “Hi,” I say lamely.
“So you’re talking to me now?”
“Of course I’m talking to you.”
“You sure that’s smart?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, now that you’re in with the popular crowd, are you sure you want to be seen with somebody like me?”
“I’m not in with the popular crowd. And even if I was, that wouldn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend.”
Her face softens a little at the declaration. She bites her lip. “You were sitting with three of the most popular boys in the whole school at lunch today. I think that makes you a part of the crowd.”
“I was sitting with Luka. Matt and Jared didn’t sit with us until the very end.”
Leela crosses her arms and continues her lip nibbling. “I tell you everything, Tess. You even know how I feel about your brother, which is embarrassing. But that’s what best friends do. They tell each other everything.”
My insides go all perky and warm. So Leela agrees—we are best friends. I’ve never had one of those before. The urge to confide in her grows, but Luka’s warning is fresh. And the memory of his suggested cover-up makes my insides go from warm to hot. Dating Luka? Nobody’s going to believe that.
“I feel like you’re keeping secrets from me,” she says.
“I don’t want to.”
“Then tell me what’s going on. What happened yesterday when you went to his house? And what were you talking about at lunch today? You both looked so … intense.”
I sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Luka and I—we’re sort of …” Crazy. Nuts. Suffering from psychosis. Sharing the same dreams. Seeing white-eyed demons in pep rallies and angels in ceramics class and somehow, in a crazy universe that makes no sense at all, this makes him interested in me. “Together.”
Leela’s jaw drops.
Heat mounts in my cheeks. “See.”
“Oh no, I totally believe you. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since your first day of school. He watches you like a hawk.”
“What? No he doesn’t.”
“Yes, he does. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed either. Why do you think Summer’s always scowling at you?”
“Because she’s inclined to scowl at people?”
Leela’s eyes are bright and wide. Any trace of hurt has evaporated. “I cannot believe this! Luka’s never dated anyone. And now you two are together?” Her expression falters. “Why aren’t you more excited about this?”
I hook my thumbs beneath the straps of my backpack. “I am.”
She looks highly skeptical.
“No, really. I am. It’s just …” I sigh, wishing I could join Leela in her enthusiasm. Wishing this wasn’t a ruse. Wishing I really was the new girl who gained the impossible-to-get attention of a cute, popular boy. “I found out that my grandmother’s sick. That’s why I was late this morning.” This, at least, isn’t a lie. My grandmother—wherever she is—is very, very sick. “Luka’s helping me process.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
I shrug off the condolence. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Or answer any questions about my grandmother’s sickness. I need a subject change. “Hey, why don’t we go to that party tomorrow? The Halloween party. You still wanna go?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I want to go!” Leela wags her eyebrows. “Maybe your boyfriend wants to come, too.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “He’s not really my boyfriend.”
“That’s what together means, doesn’t it? Oh my gosh, is he a good kisser?”
“Leela.”
A far-off, dreamy look clouds her eyes. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” She blinks several times, as if realizing something important, and grips onto my forearm. “Or how much trouble?”
“Trouble?”
“Summer is going to kill you.”
Really, Summer is the least of my worries.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Parental Concern
I’m annoyed with Pete on the drive home from school. Something about his presence beside me in the car and the sullen way he stares out the window scratches against raw nerves. I grip the steering wheel, unable to erase the gleeful look on Wren’s face after Pete told her whatever he told her during lunch. I don’t like his choice of friends. I don’t like the way he’s been pouting. And I don’t like his unfair judgment of Luka, either.
He must be equally annoyed with me, because the second I turn into the driveway, he flings open the door and climbs out before I’m able to shift into park. I turn off the car, step outside, and pull my backpack over my shoulders, squinting against a hazy, bright sky. I slam the car door and follow Pete’s fresh trail into the house.
Mom stands in the foyer, staring nervously up the staircase. Obviously Pete has blown her off too. I can hear his retreat up the final stair, the slam of his bedroom door, followed by the loud blast of angry music from his stereo. Seriously, how long are my parents going to let him get away with this?
Mom turns to me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, Mom. I just need some space.” I walk into the kitchen and grab a Coke, unsure when I’ll be able to get over the fact that Mom and Dad lied straight to my face. In this very kitchen. I asked them about grandma that first Saturday and my dad looked me in the eyes and told me she was dead. If they could lie about that, how do I know they aren’t lying about other stuff too?
Mom follows me. “I’m worried about you, sweetheart.”
“If I were you, I’d be more worried about Pete.”
Mom’s forehead wrinkles. “What do you mean?”
“What do I mean? Seriously? Mom, all he does is lock himself in his room and listen to music he never used to listen to. And now he’s hanging out with these total freaks at school.” Mom’s face fills with alarm. A small sliver of satisfaction works its way through my frustration. I don’t care that I’m ratting out my little brother. If Mom and Dad aren’t concerned about his behavior, then maybe it’s time I make them concerned. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he were doing drugs.”
Mom’s eyes widen.
I slide open the door. A breeze sweeps into the kitchen, and along with it, the briny smell of the sea and the sound of rolling waves. Mom stands beside the refrigerator, looking unsure as to whether she should press me for more information or go confront her angst-ridden teenaged son. Pete must win the battle. The drug-mention on my part was effective. She pivots on her heel and makes a beeline for the stairs, to Pete’s room, no doubt.
Good.
Let him be the freaky, troubled child for once. I will pretend I’m the well-adjusted girl with a best friend and a boyfriend. I step outside, walk to the edge of the deck, set my Coke on the banister, and let the crisp ocean breeze hit my face. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath and try not to think. I focus on clearing my head of everything until all that exists is the sound of the sea and the freedom of the outdoors. The day’s tension slowly rolls off my back.
“How’d it go with Leela?”
My eyes fly open.
Luka stands on the edge of his deck, the side that is closest to mine, his elbows resting on the banister.
Peace scurries away, replaced instead by embarrassm
ent and nerves and a thrill of excitement. “Have you been out here this whole time?” I call over.
“Maybe.” The breeze tousles his hair. “Did Leela believe you?”
“I think so.” Heat gathers around the collar of my shirt as I think about her question—is Luka a good kisser. I’m fairly certain I will never know, but my imagination can’t help but get a little carried away. “I promised her I’d go to that Halloween party tomorrow.”
“Bobbi’s?”
“Yeah.”
“Care if I tag along?”
I raise my eyebrows. “You want to go?”
“That’s what couples do, right? Go to parties together.”
My stomach breaks out in a round of impromptu somersaults. And in the middle of the gymnastics routine, a groan escapes.
“What?”
“I’m not a big fan of costume parties. I never know what to wear.” Or how to wear it without looking foolish.
“You could go as a crazy person. I’m sure Dr. Roth has a straitjacket you could borrow.”
I laugh. It feels good. Great actually—being able to joke about everything. “Or I could just go as Tess Ekhart.”
“Lame.” His tone is teasing.
“What are you going as?”
“Dr. Roth. I can be your shrink.”
A sobering thought cuts my smile short. What if I freak out again? Luka doesn’t know about the séance. He has no clue that the last party I went to didn’t work out so well. I fiddle with the tab of my Coke can, a slow trickle of fear and doubt filling up the space behind my sternum. I shouldn’t have promised Leela something that has a very high chance of turning into a disaster.
“Hey, you okay?”
“What if something is there?” Like the man with the white eyes or the ball of light from Ceramics? Or worse, the army from Luka’s dream.
“I’ll be there, Tess. I won’t let anything happen.”
The door behind him slides open and his mother comes out. Her attention flits from me to her son and the disapproval that sets across her shoulders is impossible to miss. I straighten from the railing and self-consciously run a hand through my hair. It’s weird. I’ve never been the kind of girl guys introduce to their mom. But let’s say for a second I was. I always imagined I’d be the girl mothers would love. Luka’s mom doesn’t love me at all.
“I’d like you to come in for the evening, Luka,” she says.
Luka slides his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Mom, you remember Tess.”
She gives me a forced smile and a stiff nod.
“What time’s the party tomorrow?” Luka calls over.
“Seven, I think.”
Mrs. Williams watches both of us.
“Seven o’clock, then. Want to meet in my driveway?”
“Sure.” It feels like a lifetime away.
“See you then.” He smiles one last time, then steps inside his house, completely missing the cold look his mother gives me as he goes.
*
Pete sulks in our living room on Friday night. When Mom and I return from our martial arts class Saturday morning, he’s already resumed his position. He broods the entire day away. Dad doesn’t let him retreat to his room. Apparently, Mom had a talk with Pete after my tattling session, which explains why the bulk of his dark mood is directed at me, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m going to a party tonight and not just with Leela, but Luka Williams too.
Despite my better judgment, I tell Mom. Not about the Luka part, because I’m sure the excitement of that news would spin her head right off her body. I simply tell her I’m going to a party. Which is why, despite Pete’s glowering, she is downright giddy. It’s also why she has retrieved a box of old Halloween masks and accessories and costumes from the attic.
Most are too small, even for me. Somewhere in the middle of trying on an old pair of Tinkerbell wings, Leela calls and convinces me to be a kitten. She and her younger sister need a third. After I hang up, I throw on a black sweatshirt and black pants while Mom digs through the box and finds a headband with cat ears.
A few minutes later, she sits on the toilet lid, fiddling with a wand, watching as I check my reflection in the downstairs bathroom.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to paint some whiskers on your cheeks?” Mom asks. “It’ll make the costume complete. Every kitten needs whiskers.”
“I’m good.”
Mom twirls the wand. “Is Leela picking you up here or are you picking her up at her house?”
I bite my lip. I’ll have to tell her eventually. “Actually, Luka’s driving.”
“Luka? As in, next-door Luka?”
“Mom. If you call him a hottie …”
Laughter bubbles out of her mouth—so light and refreshing I can’t help but smile. She stands and puts her hands on my shoulders. “I’m so happy you’re making friends.”
The hope in her voice makes me sad. I wish more than anything that it was warranted. I wish I wasn’t hiding anything from Leela. I wish Luka’s interest in me had nothing to do with unexplainable dreams and shared visions. I wish I was a normal girl, crushing on a cute boy. But yesterday morning’s conversation with my parents is a painful reminder that I am far from normal, so I push the wishes aside and return Mom’s smile.
She looks out into the living room where Pete sits despondently on the couch. “Now if only we could get that brother of yours to snap out of it. I wish I knew what was going on with him.” Mom sets her wand on the vanity, her eyes gaining a brightness that bodes ill. “Maybe you should take him to the party with you.”
“Mom …”
“Honey, he took you to a lot of stuff in Jude.”
No, he didn’t. Mom forced me to go. Those are two very different things. Still, she’s not the only one worried about Pete. As upset as I was with him yesterday, I don’t like to see him so miserable. Plus, Leela would be in heaven if we showed up with my brother in tow. Letting out a sigh, I exit the bathroom, take the remote from Pete’s hand, and turn off the television.
He glares up at me. “What are you doing?”
“Do you want to go to a Halloween party tonight?”
He laughs a laugh devoid of humor.
“C’mon Pete, it’ll be fun.” Not to mention, I’m almost one hundred percent certain Jess and Wren will not be there. Maybe Pete will meet some new friends. Or better yet, maybe he’ll realize how wonderful Leela is.
Mom walks into the room. “Honey, you can either go to the party or sit in the living room with your father and me tonight. You’re not going to your room.”
His dark eyes flash. “Fine. I’ll go to the stupid party.”
“Great.” With a glance at the clock, my stomach swoops. The big hand is two ticks away from the twelve. “Hurry up and grab a costume. We’re meeting Luka in his driveway in two minutes.”
Pete unwedges himself from the couch, rummages through the box, and grabs a set of glow in the dark vampire teeth. “Ready?”
“That’s it?”
“Says the earless kitten.” He sticks the teeth in his mouth.
Ignoring the jab, I walk to the door. Mom hands me my headband, which I can’t bring myself to wear. She kisses our cheeks like she’s sending us off to our first day of kindergarten and we step outside. As soon as the door closes behind us, I grab Pete’s arm. “Will you be nice to Luka, please?”
He shrugs. Probably the closest thing to a yes I’m going to get.
I let go and walk toward Luka’s yard. The last of the sun has made the sky in the west a deep pink, the east a navy blue. When I round a hedge, I spot Luka wearing cowboy hat, a shoestring neck tie, cowboy boots, and a pair of Wranglers. I only lived in Texas once. For eight months. We went to a rodeo for Pete’s ninth birthday and I saw a bunch of cowboys. None of them looked as good as Luka does now. He stands with one leg crossed over the other, his thumbs looped beneath his brass belt buckle, leaning against his very nice, non-cowboyish car, staring off into his lawn with a divot between h
is brow.
Fiddling with the cat-ear headband, I walk toward him.
He tips his hat with a grin.
“Have room for one more?” I ask lamely.
“Sure.” He meets me at the passenger door while Pete ducks into the back seat.
I put my hands in the front pocket of my sweatshirt. “My mom wanted Pete to come. I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course.” He cocks his head a little, his stare moving from my feet up the length of my body, warming my skin. “Goth girl?”
I hold up my cat ears. “A little kitten. One of three.”
He laughs. The sound is intoxicating.
“You pull off the cowboy look pretty well,” I say, motioning toward his hat.
“When I was a kid, I wanted to be a real-live rodeo cowboy.”
I look over my shoulder. Pete slouches in the back seat. “What changed?”
“I’m afraid of horses.” One of the front windows in his house lights up. He reaches past me and opens my door. “We should go.”
I duck inside and click my seatbelt into place. The car smells exactly like him—fabric softener and wintergreen. And for the first time since moving, I’m grateful for Pete. Because with him in the back seat, I won’t be alone in the car with Luka. Even though Thornsdale is small, Leela lives on the opposite side of town.
Luka slides behind the wheel and starts the car. “We haven’t officially met,” he says over his shoulder. “I’m Luka.”
Pete acknowledges him with barely more than a grunt.
“Adjusting to life in California?” Luka asks, reversing out of the driveway.
Pete shrugs.
“Classes okay?”
“Peachy.” My brother’s voice is flat with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
I want to throttle his neck. Seriously, this is the best he can do? What is up with this delayed case of teenager punk-ness? He has all these walls up. Walls he’s never had before. In Jude and every other city before, he was laid back, go-with-the-flow, everybody-loves-him Pete. Now he’s dark and moody and sits with his arms crossed and his eyes down. I glance at Luka as he pulls past the gates of Forest Grove, wanting to explain that Pete’s attitude isn’t personal. That he’s angry because I ratted him out and now he’s forced to go to a party he doesn’t want to go to.
The Gifting Page 14
