Текст книги "The Watcher"

Автор книги: Lisa Voisin

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Chapter Nine

I skipped school on Tuesday. Mom was at work, so I called in sick. Even after fifteen hours of sleep, I had to drag my heavy limbs out of bed. Black stains circled my eyes, and my nose was so stuffy from crying the night before that it was easy to pass for having a cold. With all the pandemic viruses going around these past few years, the school’s policy was to stay home until you could get your symptoms checked. This rule was working to my advantage today.

But really I couldn’t face Michael. Not after telling him how I felt. Not when he was seeing someone else.

I was lying on the sofa watching an old black and white movie on TV when Heather called. I checked my watch; her lunch break was nearly over.

“Will you live?” she asked.

I couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll live.”

“Do you need anything? I know your mom works late. Chicken soup?”

I wished I could talk about what I was going through, but I’d never find the words without bursting into tears. I swallowed back the tightness in my throat. “Can you let me know what the math assignment is?”

“Sure,” she said. “By the way, Damiel was asking about you today.”

Right. Damiel. At least someone thought I was attractive. “Oh? What did he want to know?”

“Where you were, of course. I thought Fiona was going to fall over when he came by, she was practically swooning. He is really hot.”

“Is he?” I tried to sound nonchalant. She didn’t know he’d asked me out on Friday.

“Girl, are you dead? Half the school is talking about him. The entire female population, even a few of the guys.”

“What did you tell him?” I asked, flattered he let his interest show to my friends.

“That you were home today.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. Michael came by to have lunch with Jesse, and Damiel was there. Talk about a weird vibe.” Her statement hung in the air. She was fishing for information.

Even hearing Michael’s name was hard. Thinking about him having lunch with my friends when I wasn’t there stung. Had he been waiting for me not to be around so he could visit with Jesse?

“Yeah, they have some kind of past.” I figured it was safe to share a little of what I’d heard.

“Oh.” I could practically hear the wheels turning in her head. I was pretty sure she wanted to know how I knew that, but I wasn’t ready to tell. “He seems into you, Mia. You should go for it.”

“Who?” I asked, my mind still faltering back to thoughts of Michael.

“Damiel, of course.” She quipped, “Are you on cold medication or something?”

I laughed. “Kind of.”

“Michael asked about you, too.” Had she read my mind? Known who I was really thinking about?

“Oh,” I said, trying to mask the sinking in my chest, the strange blend of hope and despair that Michael brought up in me. “What did he want?”

“To know where you were,” she said. “That’s all he said.”

I could have taken his asking about me to mean he cared a little, but really I wished he would forget about me. Or at least forget everything I said in the car yesterday. How could I face him after that?

When I didn’t say anything, Heather added, “Hey, lunch is over. I gotta go to class. I’ll e-mail the math homework to you.”

I thanked her and hung up. I’d been sitting around in my pajamas all day and needed to wash up, so I ran myself a bath. I couldn’t help but remember Heather’s praise of Damiel. He was hot. The situation with Michael may have been bleak, but at least I still had hope of a social life.

I lay in the tub trying to visualize Damiel’s features, not Michael’s, nor those blue eyes that had burned themselves into my thoughts. I focused on Damiel, the way he looked at me like I was the only girl in the room. It wasn’t as easy as I’d hoped. Thoughts of Michael would soon interrupt and I would be looking at his face, not Damiel’s. But I was determined to commit Damiel’s features to memory. The bath water cooled, so I refilled the tub several times. Once my skin had completely wrinkled, I got out.

After this exercise, though, I was sure Michael wouldn’t be able to faze me again.

***

The next day, Damiel found me at my locker before math class. His black cashmere sweater looked so soft I wanted to curl up in it.

“Feeling better?” he asked, sidling up to me.

“I am now.” I dared myself to meet his gaze.

He moved in a little closer and placed his hand on the top of my hip. Reflexively, I held my breath. I’d forgotten how disarming he could be. Behind him, two sophomore girls glanced at us, whispering to each other. Wherever he went attention would follow, and I wasn’t sure what to do about that part. I only hoped it stayed out of print.

“It wasn’t serious?” he asked, smiling.

“Not deadly, anyway.”

He looked me up and down with such heat it warmed my skin. “Oh, I’m sure you could be deadly if you wanted to.” Leaning in closer, he whispered, “Wanna do something later?”

I didn’t know how to react. I was flailing in an ocean, learning to swim, and had just been hit by my first big wave.

“I–I’m still catching up on what I missed yesterday. Lots of homework.”

As though sensing my apprehension, he took a step back and grabbed my hand, half-pleading, half-teasing. “Have lunch with me then?”

That I could do. Besides, if Michael was having lunch with Jesse and Heather, who was I to cramp his style by having lunch with my own friends? It also helped to know that in a public place Damiel wouldn’t move things along too quickly. After all, he was a difficult person to say no to. “Sure,” I said. “See you in the cafeteria?”

He squeezed my hand. “See you then.”

At lunch, Damiel held a table for us near the middle of the room. The three girls I’d seen talking about him the other day stood by his table with their lunch trays as though they wanted to join him. When he saw me and waved, they shot me dirty looks. That alone was intimidating. He already had his lunch with him, so I pointed to the concession stand, where I needed to get mine, and he gave me a nod.

Hurrying, I grabbed a panini sandwich and an iced tea. Heather caught up with me in line. Her hair in a messy ponytail, she wore a baggy sweatshirt and jeans, not her usual stylish gear. Grayish rings circled her eyes.

“What’s with the outfit?” I asked.

She flushed and said apologetically, “It’s Jesse’s. I was up most of the night studying for a huge Spanish test and I’m a bit shaky. Spilled coffee all over my shirt.”

“How was the test?”

“Okay I guess.” For Heather, “okay” was at least an A. I wasn’t far behind, but I didn’t stress about things the way she did.

“I’m having lunch with Damiel today and he’s got us another table.”

“You won’t sit with us? Is it the sweatshirt?” she teased. “No, seriously. That’s great. I’m happy for you. I didn’t know you were into the bad-boy type.”

Was that what Damiel was, a bad boy? Come to think of it, who was I kidding? “He’s nice to me.” I had always figured “bad boys” didn’t treat girls very well.

“That’s the best kind,” she said. “Remember the movie on Friday? Dean already got tickets online. Do you want him to get one more?”

“Um, not sure yet.”

“Good. You want to make him work for it. But from the way he looks at you—”

“What do you mean?”

Heather raised her eyebrows suggestively. “I think you know.”

I blushed. There was something in the way he looked at me that was all-consuming. I wondered what exactly that was as I paid for my lunch and went to join Damiel. The cafeteria was getting crowded and I noticed a few people eyeing our large table enviously.

He was looking at me that way again, and I realized it would be so easy to get pulled right into him, as though his world was all that mattered.

“Wow,” I said. “You got us a private table?”

“I do what I can,” he said with a flourish.

I sat beside him and opened the can of iced tea, trying to act casual. “So, how’ve you been?”

“Good,” he said with a slow, sultry smile. “Better now.”

A fluttering in my stomach made me not want to eat. Unwrapping my sandwich, I hoped my appetite would return once I had actual food in front of me. It didn’t.

The lasagna on Damiel’s plate must have been the special, but I hadn’t even seen it on the menu. As he cut a forkful and put it into his mouth, I noticed he was staring at me. He didn’t even try to hide it.

Then again, why would he? With Damiel, I always knew where I stood, but what surprised me was that I couldn’t help but stare back. When he smiled at me, his eyes weren’t just brown, they had shimmering bronze flecks that caught the light. As I gazed into them, the rest of the cafeteria faded and blurred into the background.

“You should eat something,” he said after swallowing a few bites.

Suddenly realizing I’d been staring way too long, I focused on my dry, unappealing sandwich.

“Here,” he said, holding up a forkful of lasagna for me to taste. “Try this. It’s the food of the gods. I swear.”

Was he seriously offering to feed me in the school cafeteria? Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a few girls glaring at me. Good thing I didn’t know any of them.

He leaned in closer, raised his fork slightly, and nodded. A voice in my head said C’mon, live a little.

Slowly, I inclined toward him and opened my mouth. It was the most perfect lasagna I’d ever tasted.

“You weren’t kidding, were you? That’s a drug,” I said. “I didn’t think the staff here could actually cook.”

The corners of his mouth curled into a grin. “They can’t cook a damn thing. I got this at a restaurant last night and they just heated it up.”

My sandwich was now seriously outclassed, but I took a bite anyway. The lasagna had sparked my appetite. The butterflies in my stomach had subsided, too.

He offered me another forkful of food. I accepted readily, not caring as much this time about what people were thinking, because he was looking at me even more intensely than he had before. He practically smoldered, and I suddenly got how intimate this gesture of sharing food was meant to be. I could feel it all the way to my toes.

“It goes better with a bit of Chianti.” He took a swig from a stainless steel water bottle, then held it up for me. “Want some?”

I didn’t accept it and lowered my voice. “You brought wine to school?”

“They had it at the restaurant, too. It’s great what you can get at a restaurant. You should try one sometime.” He took another bite of his food, savoring it. “It’s even better fresh out of the oven. How about it?”

As I leaned back in my seat to finish eating, I wondered exactly what he was offering: dinner out? Or something more?

“I can get reservations for Friday,” he continued.

“I already have plans on Friday.”

“How about Saturday?”

Could I actually go out with Damiel? He was charming enough, but he wasn’t exactly the type I’d bring home to Mom. I tried to recall her work schedule. If she was working, I wouldn’t have to introduce them. She’d never let me get on the back of that motorcycle. “What time?”

“Seven?” he asked. I winced slightly. If my calculations proved correct, she’d be working until seven. “What’s wrong?”

“My mom should be coming home from work around then, and she hates bikes…”

“I have a car, too.” He motioned to the rain outside. “It’s not bike season anymore.”

I relaxed a little. “Then seven would be great.”

Lunch was almost over. Back at the table where my friends sat, Heather had already left but Jesse and Michael lounged on the benches, talking. Michael glanced over at me and I felt a twinge in my chest. I turned to see Damiel smile at him with such malice it startled me. Michael’s expression hardened, and I could swear the energy crackled between the two of them. In my mind’s eye, everything went black, followed by a blinding flash of light. It made me dizzy. Damiel put his hands on my shoulders, steadying me, and a shudder ran up my spine. It was pleasure, wasn’t it? It had to be.

Smiling down at me, he said, “Let’s get you to class.”

“I can get myself there,” I said, guilt sweeping over me. It was difficult enough to get over Michael, but doing that with someone he despised made me seem petty. It wasn’t my fault that Damiel liked me and Michael didn’t, or that the two of them had some weird bad blood between them. But it had been harder to see Michael than I thought, and I’d soon have to sit through English with both of them.

“Besides,” I added, “I need to freshen up.”

I’d read once that the antidote to some venoms is to inject small doses of the venom and let the body develop its own antivenin. They do this with farm animals, horses, sheep, and goats. I would have to do this to myself with Michael. See him in small doses at school every day until seeing him no longer made me suffer. I couldn’t expect Damiel to understand, but I needed some time alone to prepare myself for a class with Michael. I needed to let the small dose of him I’d just seen in the cafeteria prepare me for the larger dose.

Damiel squeezed my shoulders gently a few times, and I sighed. I was so tired all of a sudden, I could have taken a nap right then and there. He dropped his hands and whispered in my ear, his breath almost tickling my skin. “See you in class, beautiful.” I drank it in and walked away, not looking at anyone on my way out.

Perhaps Damiel was an antidote all by himself.

Chapter Ten

I slept so deeply that night I almost missed my alarm. I awoke Thursday morning feeling jarred, and while I managed to pull myself together for school, I couldn’t shake the damp cloak of sleepiness that hung over me. Before my first class, I saw Damiel talking to Fiona at her locker. For some reason she wasn’t responding to him, not even flirting. Her normally straight shoulders curled in toward her chest, and she dragged books out of her bag as though each one weighed fifty pounds. Damiel was focused intently on her, and when he touched her arm, my stomach flinched in response.

Farouk joined me in the hallway, his gaze following mine. “Is Fiona okay?”

“I don’t know. She looks pretty sad.” I made a mental note to check in with her later. “What could Damiel be saying to her?”

He gave me a puzzled look. “Damiel?”

I motioned over my shoulder. “Yeah. Talking to Fiona.”

“I see Fiona, but Damiel’s not with her.”

I looked back in their direction and Damiel was gone. “That’s so odd,” I said, “he was just there. Didn’t you see him?”

Farouk was contemplative. “You know, my sister Fatima sees things.”

“I’m not seeing things!”

Unfazed by my reaction, he continued, “She had a vision about our uncle when we were ten.”

I thought about asking if Fatima ever saw shadows or strange flashing lights or even people who weren’t actually there, but decided against it. “What was it about?”

“She saw him in a car crash with a drunk driver on his way home. She was so upset, my mother convinced him to stay in the guest room that night. The next day, we heard about someone else getting killed in an accident on the same road. That’s when we knew it saved his life.”

I shivered. Did he think I was seeing things the way his sister did? “This is nothing like that. I’m sure he was just there.” I inclined my head in Fiona’s direction and bit my lip. The last thing I needed was to be having visions. First Michael, then Damiel? Was I incapable of talking to a gorgeous guy without hallucinating about him? Motioning in the direction of my class, I waved as Farouk and I parted ways.

Damiel kept to himself in English. He sat at the back of the room, and after smiling and winking at me he focused mostly on the lecture. Michael’s blue eyes were even more intense against the blue shirt he wore, and he even smiled a hello to me before he sat down. I was beginning to think that Damiel wasn’t working as an antidote to him anymore. I was going to have to be a big girl and suffer through this crush.

I became increasingly curious about Damiel’s conversation with Fiona because, surely, I couldn’t have made it up. He could have been interested in her too, though from how sad she looked it seemed more like he’d rejected her. I kept an eye out for him at lunch, but neither he nor Michael was around.

I did spend a fun lunch break with Heather, Farouk, Jesse, and Dean in the cafeteria, where we finalized our movie plans for the next night.

“Where’s Fiona?” I asked.

“She had to go to the library,” Dean replied. “Something about a history test.”

Heather had begun treating the movie outing like some kind of team building exercise. She’d expertly planned the night, giving everyone specific roles. Dean and Fiona would meet us there with tickets, Farouk and I would line up for popcorn, and she and Jesse would stand in line for seats. We planned to get there at least an hour early to allow for all this. If we ran into any difficulty, we would text each other, staying in constant communication. All in all, it was a plan worthy of international espionage, which was perfect considering we were seeing a spy movie.

Farouk eyed me a few times during lunch, but thankfully didn’t say anything about our earlier conversation in front of the others. He seemed to have something on his mind, so I wasn’t surprised when he walked me back to my locker after lunch. I thought he was going to bring up his sister’s vision again, but instead he asked me a question.

“Are you seeing Damiel?”

Caught off guard, I stammered, “I–I wouldn’t say I’m seeing him, but he asked me out.”

He frowned and leaned on the locker beside mine. “Why go out with him?”

It took me a moment to realize what Farouk was asking. Was I leading him on by accepting a ride to the movie? Was it a date? Come to think of it, the others had paired off into couples. It was best to clear up any relationship confusion as soon as possible.

“Farouk, the movie is just a movie, isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s supposed to be quite good.”

I tried again. “I mean, you’re a sweet guy, and any girl would be lucky to date you—”

“I didn’t mean…” His brown skin flushed slightly red.

“Oh!” I said, embarrassed all of a sudden. God, did I sound full of myself!

“I saw you and Michael the other day and I thought…”

I heard a siren and ignored it at first, but its wails grew louder as it approached the school.

“No. No,” I said, “he’s seeing someone.”

The siren stopped, and flashing colored lights filled the halls. Everyone stopped walking to class as two paramedics rushed through with a stretcher. They hurried past us to the office, then toward the girls’ changing room.

Farouk and I joined the other kids who were following the paramedics, trying to figure out what was going on. A buzz of panic filled the halls as teachers tried to usher us into classrooms, but we wouldn’t move. We gathered, waiting to find out what had happened and who had been hurt.

A few minutes later they rolled the stretcher out, with a girl on it. I couldn’t see her face because the EMTs blocked my view, but one of her wrists was bandaged. Ms. Callou, the guidance counselor, followed behind them, her lips pressed firmly together, her T-shirt stained with blood.

“It was a suicide attempt,” I heard someone whisper. As everyone asked each other what was going on, I heard the whispered words “suicide attempt” echo through the halls.

As they passed, I saw a mass of strawberry blond hair and my heart caught in my throat. Her hands were over her face, but I recognized Fiona immediately. I took a step toward her, but one of the paramedics, a tall woman with graying blond hair, held up a hand to stop me.

“Make room,” she said.

“She’s my friend,” I explained.

“You can see her later.”

A hot rush of fluid hit the base of my throat. I swallowed hard and took a step back. Farouk touched my arm, and I turned to him. There was nothing to say. The combination of shock and surprise on his face told me we were both thinking the same thing. Why would bright, vivacious Fiona want to kill herself?

They’d closed the school after the ambulance left, as if sending us home would stanch the flow of rumors. Heather and I rushed to the hospital and spent most of the late afternoon in the waiting room. We hoped someone would let us see our friend or help us make sense of what had happened, but only her immediate family was allowed to see her. My mom wasn’t at work, so even she couldn’t help. After a nurse told Fiona’s parents that her condition was stable, her mother broke down and cried. Her father shook as he held her, his face gray and tight. He spoke to her in hushed tones. I’d never felt so useless, not even the day my parents split up.

Rather than burdening Fiona’s mom and dad further by hanging around, Heather and I decided to go downstairs. We wandered aimlessly, not sure where to go. Neither of us ready to go home yet, we ordered some flowers from the gift shop and headed to the cafeteria.

I picked at my beef vegetable soup, but Heather couldn’t eat at all. Her coffee sat on the table in front of her getting cold. She’d crumpled a paper napkin between her fingers, the edges twisted into points, and her eyes were red and splotchy from crying.

“Why didn’t I see the signs?” she asked.

“What signs?”

“That Fiona was depressed.” Heather blew her nose into the napkin, then left it in a heap on the table. “She’s always so upbeat.”

“She didn’t have any signs,” I said. Then I remembered how unhappy Fiona had seemed talking to Damiel that morning. My eyes stung. I didn’t even go talk to her. What kind of friend did that make me?

“I guess she didn’t,” she said, pulling another napkin out of the dispenser and worrying it with her fingers. “I know it’s terrible to think of myself in a moment like this, but what kind of psychotherapist will I be if I can’t even help my own friends?”

I grabbed one of Heather’s hands and squeezed it. “You’re going to be a great therapist one day, and Fiona is going to be fine.”

“How do you know?” Heather asked, blinking back more tears.

“I just do,” I said, and in that moment I did.

“You mean some kind of sixth sense?” She smoothed the crumpled napkin onto the table and refolded it. “You know I don’t believe in that.”

“I know,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re right.”

***

Friday was mild and sunny. It hadn’t rained for a couple of days and the fallen leaves had a chance to dry out in the sun. As I walked to school, I received another text from someone I barely knew asking about Fiona. That made a dozen since yesterday. I ignored it. I’d avoided the Internet too, not wanting to think what Elaine must have said, for surely she’d capitalize on someone else’s pain for her own popularity. It was all a horrible mess.

What would make Fiona want to leave us like that? Without even saying goodbye? She had a great family, friends who cared about her. She got along with everyone. Why would she ever want to kill herself?

I was so caught up in my own thoughts that I didn’t notice the white VW pull up beside me. Immediately recognizing the car, I tensed.

Michael rolled down the passenger window.

“Get in,” he said. “I’ll drive you.”

I shook my head, keeping my tone icy. “I’m almost there.”

I kept walking. He pulled the car over to the side of the road and parked it, grabbing his bag on the way out. I didn’t wait for him, but with his long legs it only took seconds for him to catch up with me.

“We need to talk,” he said. “Please?”

His voice was as soft as a caress, and it was sad what the sound of it could do to me, how much I wanted to be close to him.

“This isn’t about Damiel again, is it?” I said. “Because I don’t think it’s any of your business.”

“Probably not,” he said. “But won’t you hear me out?”

I sighed. “We’ll just argue again.”

I’d packed too many books into my school bag that morning. It was heavy, so I took it off my right shoulder and was switching to my left when Michael caught it.

“I got it,” he said, slinging it over his shoulder as though it were weightless.

My bag now his hostage, I followed him down the tree-lined street. At least he didn’t take off with it the way my brother used to. Instead he stayed close, so close that when a breeze hit, I could smell the shampoo from his freshly washed hair, combed back to dry in waves. If this had happened a week ago, I would have been thrilled to just hang out with him. But now, knowing he was going to talk about Damiel again made me increasingly nervous. Damiel seemed like my chance to get over him once and for all, but with Michael coming around all the time, that wasn’t working. Not at all.

We walked almost a block before Michael took a deep breath and said, “I’m not trying to make things difficult.”

“No?”

“You think I want to do this?” He shoved his hands into his pockets, but he was close enough that his arm grazed mine, sending tingles all the way up my neck.

Damn, why do I have to like him so much?

“Do what exactly?” I bristled, struggling to focus. “Meddle in my life?”

I hoped what I said would make him angry, because I wanted him to get so angry with me he’d leave me alone. But instead he was calm. “I’m trying to help you.”

“You’re trying to help me? Maybe you should help yourself. You’re the one who pushed Damiel away because you don’t want to remember that part of your life—”

“What?” He turned on his heel to face me, and I could have sworn the air snapped. “What are you talking about?”

“He said you two were in the hospital together, that seeing him brought up bad memories for you.”

“That’s a load of…” Shaking his head, he stopped himself, took a breath. “You don’t believe that, do you? You’re smarter than that.”

“Oh, really? I’m supposed to be some kind of mind-reader? Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

He led us across an empty baseball diamond near our school, walking so quickly I had to hurry to keep up. “Haven’t you noticed it’s hard to say no to him?”

“I can say no.” I spat the words at him. Was he implying I was some kind of slut or something? Was I, as the girl, supposed to say no because it was what good girls did? “Why the hell should I? What if I don’t want to?”

He took a step toward me, his eyes blazing and yet not with anger. There was tenderness there, and sadness, and I wasn’t sure what else. I wanted to commit that look to memory. But then some kind of wall came up inside him, cold and solid as iron, blocking his true self in. Or was it blocking me out?

“That’s your choice to make,” he said.

I recoiled. “I haven’t chosen anything yet.”

“Even not choosing is a choice.”

I swallowed hard, fighting the sting of tears. He couldn’t be giving up on me, could he? “What am I choosing between?”

He led us around the corner, down the back road leading to the school. “Don’t you find yourself tired around him, drained even?”

When he mentioned it, I realized it was true. I’d been very tired lately. But how did he know that, anyway? I stopped walking and crossed my arms over my chest.

Turning, he stopped too, his hand clutching the strap of my bag. A lawnmower engine droned in the distance. “What if that was by design?”

“I don’t understand. Why are you being so cryptic?”

“Are you going to see him again?” he asked. “I mean, outside of school?”

Not wanting to answer that question, I started walking again. “Just dinner tomorrow.”

He fell in step beside me. “Don’t go out with him.” His voice was soft, almost pleading, with that strange musical quality I’d heard before.

I didn’t have it in me to be angry with him. “I really don’t get it. You don’t want me, yet you come around like some kind of knight in shining armor and now you’re trying to warn me about some guy. Why do you even care?”

“Don’t underestimate him. He’s not just ‘some guy,’” he warned. “He’s dangerous.”

My throat clenched. “Dangerous? What do you mean? What aren’t you telling me?”

He made an exasperated sound. “Can’t you just take my word for it?”

I fought back the urge to argue with him, the need to know more. He could be so infuriating, but something in me knew he was telling the truth, or part of it. He and Damiel shared a past, but beyond implying that Damiel was lying Michael didn’t say anything. He was hiding something. If he was trying to protect me, what was he trying to protect me from?

“You know my friend Fiona?” I asked, changing the subject.

“Yeah?”

“You were talking to her a few weeks ago but she didn’t see you, and Damiel was talking to her in the hallway yesterday before she—”

“Look, I’m sorry about your friend,” he interrupted, handing me my bag. We’d arrived at the back doors of the school. “What you do is your choice. I’ll see you in class.”

I was being dismissed.

As I headed inside, I wondered if there really was something about Damiel talking to Fiona. Perhaps he was dangerous. But they were just talking, weren’t they? This thing with Fiona, could it be a coincidence? If so, how? And why wouldn’t Michael talk about it?

I went to my locker before class. When I opened it, a small brown paper bag fell out. My name was written on it in tidy cursive script. Inside was a delicate silver pendant, an ornate upside-down hand with a blue glass eye in the middle. Clear gemstones bordered the outside.

I was examining the bag for a clue as to whom it might be from when Heather approached. Her eyes were puffy and ringed with gray, this time not from studying.

“We’re still going to the movie tonight, right?” she said.

With all that had happened I’d totally forgotten about the movie. I didn’t think anyone would want to go. “Is it still on?”

“Yeah. We don’t want Dean to be alone tonight. Though he won’t admit it, he’s pretty shaken. He can’t see Fiona yet either.”

“Have you heard anything?” I asked.

“Her mom called and told me she’s awake now and going through some tests. She’ll be home tomorrow. I’m gonna go see her then.”

“Can I come?”

“Of course!” she replied, then noticed the necklace in my hands. “Oh! Where’d you get that?”

“I don’t know. It was in my locker. There’s no note.”

“Maybe it’s from Damiel.” Heather handled the necklace carefully, admiring it. “For your date tomorrow night.”

She handed it back just as Elaine came down the hall, and I quickly slid it into my school bag. I didn’t need to give Elaine a reason for more gossip. If Damiel was giving me gifts, he could be more serious than I thought. I should give it back to him and break off the date so I wouldn’t lead him on.

As if on cue, Damiel came to see me before English class to confirm our plans. It was the perfect opportunity to cancel our plans and return the necklace, but I hesitated. I could hear my name being whispered in the back of the room; I’m pretty sure it was Elaine. Michael nodded at me encouragingly, as if he knew what I was about to do. Damiel turned to him and wordlessly touched my hand. A rush of heat shot through me so fast it made me queasy, and the smile Damiel gave me melted  my worries.