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hold and soothe and love him.
But she couldn t.
She closed the shutters and stood in her dark room alone.
Torment
NINE
TEN DAYS
When Luce woke up on Tuesday morning, Shelby was already gone. Her bed was made, the hand-
made patchwork quilt folded at its foot, and her puffy red vest and tote bag had been plucked from
their peg by the door.
Still in her pajamas, Luce stuck a mug of water in the microwave to make tea, then sat down to
check her email.
To: lucindap44@gmail.com
From: callieallieoxenfree@gmail.com
Sent: Monday, 11/16 at 1:34 am
Subject: Trying Not to Take It Personally
Dear L,
Got your text, and first things first, I miss you too. But I ve got a really out-of-left-field suggestion:
it s called you-and-I-catch-up. Crazy Callie and her wild ideas. I know you re busy. I know you re
under heavy surveillance and it s hard to sneak away. What I don t know is a single detail about
your life. Who do you eat lunch with? Which class do you like the most? What ever happened with
that guy? See, I don t even know his name. I hate that.
I m glad you got a phone, but don t text me to say you re going to call. Just call. I haven t heard
your voice in ages. I ain t mad at ya. Yet.
xoC
Luce closed the email. It was next to impossible to piss Callie off. She d never actually done it be-
fore. The fact that Callie didn t suspect that Luce was lying was only further proof of how distant
they d become. The shame Luce felt was heavy, settling right between her shoulders.
On to the next email:
To: lucindap44@gmail.com
From: thegaprices@aol.com
Sent: Monday, 11/16 at 8:30 pm
Subject: Well, honey, we love you too
Luce Baby,
Your emails always brighten our days. How s the swim team going? Are you drying your hair now
that it s cold outside? I know, I m nagging, but I miss you.
Do you think Sword & Cross will grant you permission to leave campus for Thanksgiving next
week? Dad could call the dean? We won t count our chickens yet, but your father did go out and
buy a Tofurky just in case. I ve been filling up the extra freezer with pies. Do you still like the one
with the sweet potatoes? We love you and we think about you all the time.
Mom
Luce s hand hung frozen on her mouse. It was Tuesday morning. Thanksgiving was a week and a
half away. It was the first time that her favorite holiday had even crossed her mind. But as quickly
as it had come in, Luce tried to banish it. There was no way Mr. Cole would let her go home for
Thanksgiving.
She was about to click Respond when a blinking orange box at the bottom of the screen caught her
attention. Miles was online. He d been trying to chat with her.
Miles (8:08): Mornin , Miss Luce.
Miles (8:09): I am STARVING. Do you wake up as hungry as I wake up?
Miles (8:15): Wanna get breakfast? I ll swing by your room on my way. 5 min?
Luce looked at her clock. 8:21. There was a booming knock on her door. She was still in her paja-
mas. Still had bed head. She opened the door a little.
The morning sun poured onto the hallway s hardwood floors. It reminded Luce of coming down the
always-sunlit wooden staircase at her parents house for breakfast, the way the whole world looked
brighter through the lens of one hallway filled with light.
Miles wasn t wearing his Dodgers cap today, so it was one of the few times she could clearly see his
eyes. They were really deep blue, a nine-o clock-in-summer sky blue. His hair was wet, dripping on
the shoulders of his white T-shirt. Luce swallowed, unable to stop her mind from picturing him in
the shower. He grinned at her, showing off a dimple and his super-white smile. He seemed so Cal-
ifornia today; Luce was surprised to realize how good he made it look.
 Hey. Luce wedged as much of her pajamaed body as she could behind the door.  I just saw your
messages. I m in for breakfast, but I m not dressed yet.
 I can wait. Miles leaned against the hallway wall. His stomach growled loudly. He tried to cross
his arms over his waist to cover the sound. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]