The lack of cold told her she was alone. A tiny part of her wanted to rebel, to demand an answer, not just to her ghost's problem but to all her issues. Just as she was about to open her mouth, a bit of wisdom seemed to wiggle through the frustration. This, whatever "this" was making the falls feel special, wasn't open to demands or rebellion. In addition to the calm, Kylie sensed a power.
Not evil, but firm.
Not uncaring, but unyielding.
Unyielding enough to set a girl aflame and scar her for life? Kylie didn't know that answer, and for her own sanity she wasn't sure she wanted to know.
Then, realizing she was probably pushing Della's and Miranda's limit for waiting, she stood up. When she did, she felt the folded envelope in her pocket. Lucas's letter. Another thing she'd have to deal with soon. And while none of her issues had changed, she did somehow feel more confident about handling them. And maybe, Kylie thought, that was as much help as she was going to get.
The morning passed in a mind-numbing haze. Either due to her lack of sleep or the residuals from her growth spurt, Kylie wasn't sure. She dropped her lunch tray down beside Della and gave the dining hall a quick search for Derek.
His before-lunch group often got caught up in hiking and missed the meal. As her gaze swept the other side of the dining hall she realized how much she wanted to see him.
And how much she didn't want to see him.
God, she was so wishy-washy. If she was having a hard time dealing with her back-and-forth emotions, she could only wonder how Derek felt.
He probably thought she was a few French fries short of a Happy Meal.
And he'd be right, wouldn't he?
Without a doubt, the calm and confidence she'd gotten from this morning's trip to the falls was beginning to wane. When another visual sweep around the room didn't find Derek, she dropped in a chair and focused on Della, who sat there sipping her blood with very little interest. Then Kylie noted the empty seat next to Della.
"Where's Miranda?" Kylie asked.
"Don't know," Della muttered, and turned her glass in her hand.
Kylie tried not to stare at the blood in the glass for fear she'd recall how good it tasted. Instead, she picked up her ham sandwich and took a big bite. "You okay?" Kylie shifted the lump of bread in her mouth so she could speak.
"Yeah. Just mulling things over," Della said.
"About going home in three weeks?"
"Actually, I wasn't worrying about that, but now that you reminded me, I can add that to my worry agenda. Thanks." Sarcasm laced Della's voice.
"Sorry." Kylie stared at the sandwich with disinterest. "So what are you worrying about?"
"Just stuff," Della snapped.
"Ooookay," Kylie said, letting Della know her mood wasn't appreciated.
Hey, Kylie got the whole vampire bad attitude, but at times- "Sorry," Della said. "It's just that talk of death angels this morning got me worrying about ... things."
"You mean about the time when you turned and can't remember the details."
"Yeah." Della sounded relieved that Kylie remembered, and she looked at Kylie as if seeking help. "What if I did something really terrible?"
How terrible? Kylie almost asked. Was Della actually worried that she might have hurt someone? Then she remembered who she was talking about. "First, I don't think you would do something really terrible. I mean, even the fact that you are worried you did something terrible means you're not a terrible person."
Della didn't look convinced. "But when you turn, it's so crazy."
"But you're not crazy," Kylie said. "And you're a good person."
Della nodded and looked as if she wanted to say something else, but then she looked away. Kylie had a sneaking suspicion that there was more to Della's concerns than met the eye. Did she remember more than she was saying? Whatever it was, Kylie wished she knew how to help.
"I wonder what's up with Miranda?" Della said in an obvious attempt to change the subject. "God, I hope she hasn't gone back into mourning over little boy wonder."
"She seemed okay earlier." Kylie looked to the table where most of the witches ate lunch to see if Miranda was there. She wasn't.
While the camp was supposed to encourage intermingling between the species, and it did, there seemed to be something about mealtime that encouraged the "birds of a feather flock together" mentality, the exception being a few interspecies couples and a few cabin friends. Helen and Jonathon took turns sitting with the vampires and the fairies. Until recently, it hadn't been unusual for Perry to join Miranda at their table. And a couple times a week, Derek would sit with Kylie during meals.
At least once a week, and never on the same days, even Della and Miranda would opt out of sitting with her and sit with their kind. Kylie told them they didn't have to sit with her. She understood if they wanted to sit with their same-feathered friends. They didn't listen.
Whether it was out of loyalty or because they felt bad for her, Kylie didn't know. But deep down, she appreciated it to no end. Who wanted to eat lunch alone? That would remind her too much of her old high school when Sara was sick or skipping school.
Thinking of Sara, Kylie pulled out her phone and checked to see if she had any messages from her best friend. It had been almost a week since Kylie had sent her several texts asking how things were going and telling her she would be home in three weeks for the weekend. It kind of hurt that Sara hadn't even gotten back in touch. Did that mean Sara didn't want to see her?
Sure, Kylie would be the first to admit that they no longer seemed to have a lot in common-Kylie not being human being at the top of the list-but what they had was a ten-year friendship, years of being each other's best friend. Didn't that merit her taking a few hours out of her weekend to at least pretend she still cared?
Kylie's phone rang. Thinking it would be eerie cool, almost psychic, if it was Sara, Kylie waited for the number to come across the screen. Not Sara. She cut off her phone and set it on the table.
"Don't tell me, either Trey or your stepdad," Della said.
"Two points for being right." Kylie grabbed her sandwich again.
"Which one?" Della asked.
"Dad. Stepdad." Even after meeting and learning to love Daniel, she sometimes forgot that Tom Galen wasn't her real father. Kylie sank her teeth into the soft bread, but didn't taste anything.
"Is he still banging his intern?"
Kylie swallowed. "Don't know. Don't care."
"Liar," Della said.
"Okay, how about ... don't know, wish like hell I didn't care?"