by Jenna Moreci
doingthisformonthsandnoone’snoticed.”EveturnedtoSancho.“Youneed
tolookforotherarticleslikethatone.”
“Ialreadydid,andcameupwithnothing.”Heminimizedtheprojectionand
slippedhisscratchpadbackintohispocket.“Garymust’vebeentheironlyslip-
up.”
“Thenwherearealltheotherbodies?”Jasonasked.
Nooneanswered.Theentireyardwassuddenlysilentasidefromthefaint whisperofthewind.
Eve’smusclestightened,andshespuntowardhercomrades.“Look,
whateverbondswehaveoutsidethisgroup,they’regone.”Sheglancedateach
of the boys one by one and hoped they couldn’t sense her fear. “No one at Billingtoncanbetrusted,nomatterhowlongwe’veknownthem.”
Sanchonodded,thehoodofhissweatshirtbobbingatophishead.Jason
stared back at her; he was worried for her, she could tell, and she forced a smiletoalleviatehisfears.Percyremainedstill,hiseyesdistantasifdeepin thought.Finallyhesaunteredtohisgunkitandgrabbedtwofirearmsand
stacksofammunition.
“Agiftforyou,”hesaid,tossingbothEveandJasonaweapon.“Neverknow
whenanInterloperwillpopup.”
Evelookeddownatthepiecerestinginherhands.“Thanks,Percy,butyou
don’thavetodothis.”
“Actually,IthinkIdo.Don’twantyoutwotodie,afterall,”heteased.“ButI
haveoneruleforthebothofyou:don’tkillanyone.Atleast,anyonewhoisn’t
an alien. If it’s an alien, go to town on his ass.” He tilted his head toward his humblemansion.“Look,thecleaningcrewwillbeheresoon,andthelesseyes
onus,thebetter.Justmakesureyoutakecareofyourguns.Don’tleave’em
lyingaround.”
“Speakingofguns,canIhaveone?”
“No,Sancho.”
“Whynot?”
“Why?”Percyscoffed.“BecauseIwouldn’ttrustyouwithabutterknife,let aloneafirearm,that’swhy.”
SanchoscurriedbehindPercyastheymadetheirwaytothecar,bickeringand
shovingoneanotherallthewhile.Evewatchedastheydisappearedinthe
distance,herheartheavyandherthoughtsconsumedwithbattlestocome.She
feltahandpressagainstthesmallofherback;Jasonstoodbesideher,hiseyes
reflectingthelightofthesettingsun.
“Beenaninterestingweekend,huh?”
“It’sbeenaninterestingsemester,”shemuttered,forcinganotherinsincere
smirk.“Butnothingthe ChimeraBitchcan’thandle,right?”
Jasondidn’trespond;insteadhestaredbackather,hiseyesscanningherface,
herhair,hershoulders.Forthefirsttimeinweeks,Evehadn’ttheslightestclue whathewasthinking.
“Weshouldpractice,youknow.”Sheglanceddownathergun.“Shooting,
fighting,evenmelting.Weneedtobepreparedforanything.”
Hehesitatedforamoment.“Areyoufreetonight?”
“Youdon’tmessaround,doyou?”sheteased.“Youmustreallybenervous.”
“Actually,IwashopingIcouldtakeyouonadate.”
Evestopped,herbodysuddenlyhot,herbootslikeblocksofleadweighing
herdown.“Adate?”
“Yeah.Youseemsurprised.”
“No,Imean,it’sjust,”Evestuttered,theheatrisingfromherchesttoherneck andface,“adate?”
“Yeah,adate.”Heanxiouslyranhisfingersthroughhishair.“Areyou
free?”
“Yes,”sheanswered,alittletooenthusiastically.“I’mfree.”
Afaintcryranginthedistance—itwasPercy,shoutingobscenitiesashe
impatiently urged the two of them to get moving. As they began their trek acrosstheyard,JasonlookedbackatEveandsmiled.
“Well,notanymore,”hechuckled.“Nowyouhaveplanswithme.”
***
Evestoodintheelevator,hereyespointedattheceiling.Theonlysoundshe
couldhearwasthesoftbeepthatmarkedeachpassingfloor.Thirteen.
Fourteen.Fifteen.Thedoorsopened,andwithwhatfeltlikethefirstbreathshe
had taken in hours, she entered the hallway of the top floor of Rutherford Tower.
Sheventuredthroughthecorridor,herkneesstiff,herfingersfidgetingather
sidesuntilshefinallyshovedthemintothepocketsofherjeans.Shecursed
toherself,irritatedbyherownanxiety.ItwasjustJason.Shehadspentnearly
everydaywithhimforoveramonthalready,andtherewasnoreasontotreat
this meeting any differently. He liked her. Hell, they had already kissed—and God,wasitagoodkiss.Actually,ifshewasgoingtobehonestwithherself,
theytechnically madeout, but never mind the specifics. He liked her, and she likedhim,andthustherewasnoneedtobenervous.Butnomatterhowmany
times those words repeated in her mind, she was still terrified. Whether she wantedtoadmititornot,thismeeting wasdifferentthanalloftheirprevious meetings,becausethisonewasadate.
Areal,honest-to-God date.
Sheknockedatthedoorofroom1502andthenrammedherrestlesshands
backintoherpockets.Itwasn’ttoolate;shecouldstillmakearunforit.She
wascertainlyfastenoughtogetawaywithoutbeingseen.Butshewantedtobe
there—shetrulydid.Shehadjusthopedthatatsomepointbetweenthe
primping in her dorm room and her arrival at the fifteenth floor, her nerves wouldhavefinallysettled.Unfortunately,thathadn’thappened.
Jasonopenedthedoor,hissmilechildlikeandinnocent.Perhapshewas
nervous,too.
Heusheredherintotheroom.“Comeinside,haveaseat.”
Evetookalookaroundatthefamiliar,lavishdorm.“Ihavetoadmit,Iwasa
littleconfusedwhenyoutoldmetomeetyouatPercy’sroom,”shesaid.
“Ifigured,butIhadgoodreason.Yousee,Percyhasakitchen.”
Jasonmadehiswaytowardthekitchennook,whichwasclutteredwithpans,
dishes,andvariousotherutensils.Eve’seyesmovedfromJasontothedining
table,whichwasperfectlysetwithchinafortwo.
“You’recookingforme?”
“Ithoughtitmightbealittlemorepersonalthantakingyoutosome
restaurant.” He looked up from the sink as he washed his hands. “Besides, I figuredyoucouldusesomeprivacy—abreakfrompeoplestaringatyou.At
us.”
Evewalkedpastthecounter,herfingerstrailingalongthemarbleasshe
studiedthevastarrayoffood.“Wow,”shesmiled,finallytakingaseatonone
ofthebarstools.“Thisis…wow.”
“Doublewows,huh?That’sagoodthing,right?”
She felt her nerves settle just a touch. “It’s a really good thing,” she said, watching Jason fiddle with ingredients like a true chef, or at least like she assumedatruechefmight.“So,youactuallyknow howtocook?”
Jasonlaughed.“Don’tsoundsoshocked.”
“Hey,I’mnotjudging.Icanworkamicrowavelikeafiend,butthat’sasfar asmykitchenknowledgetakesme.”
Jasonpaused.“What’samicrowave?”
“It’sretro.Nevermind.”
Evelookedaroundtheroomoncemore,spottingPercy’sbedroomdoorin
thedistance,securelyshut,andmostlikelylockedanddouble-bolted.“Percy’s
okaywi
thusseizinghisdormlikethis?”
“He’sagoodfriend.He’sspendingtheeveninginmyroomwithSancho.”
Jasonchuckled.“They’reprobablyalreadyarguingaboutsomethingstupidby
now.”
Evestudiedthespreadinfrontofher:chickenbreasts,cheese,spices,garlic,
butter,andflourwerepartitionedintoseparatebowlsandpansalongthe
counter.“So…whatareweeatingtonight?”
Jasonraisedhiseyebrowsconfidently.“Chickenmarsalaoverangelhair pastawithsautéedmushroomsandgarlicparmesanbread.”
“Damn…Wheredidyoulearntocooklikethis?”
Jasonlookeddownathiscuttingboard,focusingonthesmallclovesof
garlicashechoppedthemintotinypieces.“Growingup,Ihadananny.”
“TheoneyousharedwithPercy?”
“Right,”heanswered.“HernamewasEsmeralda—wecalledherEssie.My
parentswereneveraround,soshewastheclosestthingIhadtoamom.Most
days it was just me and her for hours and hours, and she would always cook these big, elaborate dinners for the two of us.” He smiled slightly as he reminisced.“I’dsitandwatchher—Ihadnothingbettertodo—andfinallyone
dayshetoldmetomakemyselfuseful.”Hestoppedtobrushthegarlicflecks
intoabowlandlookedupatEve.“Icookedwithhereverydayafterthat.Itwas
kindofourthing,Iguess.”
Evegrinned,enchantedbyhisstory.“DoyoustilltalktoEssie?”
“No.Ihaven’tseenherinyears.”
“Oh.”Eve’sfacedropped.“Whathappened?”
Jasonmovedtothestove,lightingtheburnersandseeminglykeepinghis
gazeasfarfromheraspossible.“Myparentsfiredher.”
“Why?”
Jasonhesitated.“Don’tknow.Theywouldn’ttellme.”
Evecouldn’tfindthewordstosay,andsoshesatinsilence,herheadlowas
ifshewereinsomewayguiltyforhavingaskedinthefirstplace.
Jasoncontinued,forcingahalfsmile.“Nowcookingkindofmakesmefeel
like,Idon’tknow…likeI’mhome.Putsmeatease,Iguess.”
Shestudiedhimashechoppedandsautéed,hishandsquickandartfully
precise.Shenoticedthathernervousenergyhadfinallysubsided;infact,she
wascompletelycalm.Itbaffledher,howinthemidstofsuchchaosand
uncertaintyshehadmanagedtofindanunfamiliarcomfort—asenseofpeace
—withJason.
“So,”shechirped,“areyougoingtoletmehelp,orwhat?”
“Oh,no,that’snothowthisarrangementworks.”
“What?”Evesprangtohisside,squeezingherwayintothesmallkitchen
nook.“Itoldyouallaboutmymicrowaveskills.Wereyounotimpressed?”
“Youknow,Istilldon’tknowwhatthatmicro-thingis.”
“That’snotthepoint.Thepointis,I’mhelping.”
Helaughed.“I’mtreating you.Sitdownandrelax.”
“Jason,ifyoudon’ttellmewhattodo,I’mjustgoingtowingit.”
Hesighed.“Fine.Youcanboilthepasta.”
Withasmuggrin,Evefilledthelargepotwithwaterandplaceditatopthe
burner.Jasoncontinuedwithhisdutieswhilekeepingoneeyeonher.He
watchedherjustasshehadbeenwatchinghim,gazingatherbrownhair,her
slenderhands,hersimpleclothes.Hetookadeepbreathandsmiled.
“Thankyou.”
Evechuckled.“Youplannedeverything.TheleastIcandoishelpyouboil
somedamnnoodles.”
“No,Imeantforshowingupinthefirstplace.”
Evewrinkledhernose.“Whatareyoutalkingabout?”
“Iknowyoudon’ttrustpeople.”Heleanedagainstthecounter,grippingthe
marble edge. “It’s written all over your face. Sometimes, when we talk, I can literallyseeyoubattlingyourself,debatingwhetherornottoletmein.”
Hercheeksflushed.“God,”shemumbled.“Didn’trealizeitwassoobvious.”
“We’vespentalotoftimetogether.IthinkIknowyouprettywellbynow.”
Eveexhaled.Shedidn’twanttolookathim—shewantedtostareatthefloor,
for all eternity if she could get away with it—but she forced herself to face him,hereyescommunicatingalevelofvulnerabilitythatshewashardly
comfortablewith.
“It’snoteasyforme—allofthis,”shebegan.“Truthfully,Icanhardly
remember what it feels like to be… somebody, to someone else. I’ve always beenalone.I’m goodatbeingalone.But…Ifeellikeyou’redifferent.AndI’m trying.”
Jasonleanedintowardher.“I’venevermetanyonelikeyou,Eve.Youneed
to know that.” He ran his fingers over the palm of her hand as he spoke. “I don’tknowwhatchanged—whatmadeyoudecidetogivemeachance—but
I’mgladyoudid.”
Ahissingnoisesoundedbehindthetwo.Evejumpedabruptly,knocking
overabowlofflourandsendingacloudofwhitebillowingupfromthe counter.Shesighed;herpothadboiledover,spillingbubblingwateracrossthe
stove.
Jasonhoveredclosetoherear.“Moodkiller,”hewhispered.
Eveshothimaphonyglare.Withouthesitation,shegrabbedahandfulof
flourandsmackeditacrosshischest,leavingamessyhandprintonhist-shirt.
Jasonlookeddownatthemessonhischest.“Wow,”helaughed,“really
mature.”
BeforeEvecouldreact,heflungafistfulofflouratherneck,thewhiteflecks
spilling down the front of her shirt. She gasped, her mouth hanging open in shock.
“In my hair? Really?” She plunged her hands into the bowl and cupped two handfulsofflour,smearingoneoneachofJason’scheeks.Helaughedaloud,
reciprocatingwithacloudofflouraimeddirectlyatherface.
Thewarhadbegun.Floursprayedthroughthekitchen,spatteringacross
themboth,leavingthemwhiteanddusty.Theirlaughterturnedintoanuproar,
bothofthemcoughingoverthepowderthatnowcoveredthespacelikea
blanketoffog.JustasEvetriedtoslapJasonwithyetanotherfistfulofflour, he grabbed her wrist and held it tightly, stifling her attack. The two stood together,theirlaughtersimmeringuntiltheywereoutofbreath.Theywerea
mess,aswastheentirekitchen,andastheyfinishedassessingthedamagethey
haddone,theireyesfinallymet.
JasontuggedatEve’sarm,pullingherupagainsthisbody.Herbreath
caught,andheleanedincloser,lingeringforjustasecondbeforekissingher, thetouchofhislipsawakeningeverynerveinsideofher.Hewrappedhisarms
aroundherwaistandsqueezedhertightly,sparkingcompetingfeelingsofboth
weakness and security within her, and she ran her hands from his chest up to thenapeofhisneck,combingherfingersthroughhishair.Sheallowedherself
toletgo,tofeelweightlessinhisarmsastheykissedagain,hishandsonthe
smallofherbackandhisheartbeatingagainstherchest.Herlipshoveredon
hisforamomentbeforeshekissedhimoncemore,soengrossedinthe
experience that she almost didn’t hear the sound of the door opening behind her.
Jason’slipsabruptlytoreawayfromhersasheshotanangryglareatthedoor.
“Dammit,Percy,haveyouheardofknocking—”
Hestoppedsuddenly,hiseyeswideandhisbodyf
rozen.“Oh,God.”
Eveturned;amanandwomanstoodatthefrontdoor,botheasilyintheirmid-
fiftiesandsuperblydressed.Theyseemedvaguelyfamiliar—perhapsshe
hadmetthembefore,thoughshecouldn’tquiteremember.
Thewomanscornfullypursedherlipsandcrossedherarms.“Sorry,we
didn’trealizeyouwere…busy.”
JasonkepthisarmaroundEveandbroughtherclosetohisside.“What…
why…”hestuttered.“How’dyouevenknowwheretofindme?”
Thewomantuggedathercashmereglovesandfoldedthemintoherpurse.
“Well, we went to your room first, looking for you, of course. Instead we foundthatlittleFilipinoboyandPercy.Percysaidyouwereherewithadate.”
“Andthatdidn’tgiveyoutheideathatIwas busy?”
“Yes,well,”hereyesmovedtoEve,shootingajudgmentalscowlinher
direction,“nothingimportant,Iassume.”
Everecognizedthecouplethen—itcameinaninstant,sendingahorrible
tremordownherspine.Shequicklywipedtheflourfromhercheeks,suddenly
very aware of her messy appearance, and felt herself blush beneath the white powder.
Jason’ssterndemeanordidn’tfalter.“Whatareyou doinghere?”
“Whatkindofquestionisthat?”themanchimedin,flashingasparkling
whitesmile.“Doweneedareasontoseeyou?”
JasonlookeddownatEve,hisstarebothcrossandapologetic.Withaloud
sigh,heutteredthewordsshewashopinghewouldn’tsay.
“Eve,”hemumbled,“meetmyparents.”
CHAPTER10:ONEOFUS
Eveawokethenextmorningwithasickeningfeelinginthepitofher
stomach.ShethoughtofherdatewithJasonanditsabruptending—thanks,of
course,tohisparents’interruption—andwishedthatthewholethinghadbeen
anembarrassingnightmare.Shecringedassherecalledthelooksofpure,
unadulteratedcriticismontheirfaces.Thememorywasalmostunbearable,and
assherushedtogetreadyforclass,sheprayedforapotentdistraction.
EvetrudgedthroughRutherfordHall,hermindstillrackedwithanxiety.She
glancedatherfellowRutherfordiansastheyscurriedby;theystaredatherand whispered, but that was to be expected. And then she saw it: a crisp, white envelope resting in the palm of one of her towermates’ hands. Make that two envelopes,asyetanotherstudentbuzzedpastwiththestationerytuckedinhis
