“But I didn’t.”
I smacked him again, this time harder. “You’re crazy.”
“But you love my craziness.” He leaned down, kissing the corner of my lip. “Come on, we’re late. The last thing we need is detention.”
I snorted. “Yeah, like that would be the biggest of our problems.”
…
Carissa still hadn’t returned to school on Monday. The flu must’ve been kicking her butt. Lesa seemed a bit jealous over the whole thing. “I’m, like, five pounds from my goal weight,” she said before trig started. “Why can’t I come down with something? Geesh.”
I giggled and we moved on to some gossip. For a little while, I forgot about everything. It was nice and much needed downtime even though we were in school. The morning blew by and when Blake entered bio, I refused to let him ruin my mood.
But then he opened his mouth and the big “what the hell” statement came out. “You didn’t tell Daemon about what I said to you in the woods? About me liking you?”
Ah, what the frig, man? “Um, no. He’d kill you.”
Blake laughed.
I frowned. “I’m being serious.”
“Oh.” His smile faded and he paled. I imagined that he was playing that scenario out in his head: me telling Daemon about his dirty little secret and Daemon going ape poo poo over it. He came to the same conclusion as me. “Yeah, good call.
“Anyway,” he continued. “About what I said this morning—”
“Not now.” I opened my notebook. “I really don’t want to talk about that right now.”
I smiled when Lesa sat down and luckily, Blake respected my request. He chatted it up with Lesa like a normal person would. He was good at that—pretending.
A knot formed in my stomach as I looked at him sharply. He was telling Lesa about different kinds of surfing techniques. I was pretty sure she wasn’t even listening, considering her gaze was trained on how his shirt strained over his biceps.
He laughed easily, blending in perfectly. Like a good implant would, and I knew from previous experience that Blake was skilled at faking it. There really was no way of telling what side Blake was truly on, and it was stupid to even guess.
At the front of the class, Matthew pulled out his roll book. His eyes met mine briefly and then shifted to the boy beside me. I wondered how Matthew did it—kept calm all the time. How he stayed the glue that kept everyone together.
…
I stopped at my locker and grabbed my US history text at the end of the day. The chances of a pop quiz tomorrow were high. Mrs. Kerns had a schedule, which really didn’t make the quiz a big surprise. I closed my locker door and turned, shoving my book into the bag. The crowd was thinning out as everyone rushed to get out of the school. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to rush or not. Blake had already texted me during gym about getting everyone together to talk about the onyx situation, and I really didn’t want to.
I wanted one day to go home and do nothing—no plotting or dealing with alien shenanigans. Books needed reading and reviewing and my poor blog could really use a makeover. I couldn’t think of a better way to finish out a Monday.
But it was probably not going to happen.
Stepping outside, I trailed behind the last group of students heading to the parking lot. From my vantage point, I could hear Kimmy’s high-pitched voice from the front.
“My daddy said that Simon’s father has been talking to the FBI. He’s demanding a full investigation and won’t stop until Simon comes home.”
I wondered if the FBI knew about the aliens. Images of The X-Files flew through my head.
“I heard on TV that the longer a person is missing, the less likely it is for them to turn up alive,” one of her friends said.
“But look at Dawson. He was gone for over a year, and he’s back,” another said.
Tommy Cruz rubbed a beefy hand along the back of his neck. “And isn’t that strange? He’s gone forever. The one Thompson kid bites it and then Dawson shows up? Something insane with that.”
I’d heard enough. Going between cars, I put distance between the group and me. I doubted their suspicious would go anywhere, but I wasn’t trolling for new things to worry about. We had enough.
Daemon waited by his car. Long legs crossed at the ankles. He smiled when he saw me and pushed off the side of the vehicle. “I was beginning to wonder if you were going to stay here.”
“Sorry.” He opened the passenger door and bowed. Grinning, I jumped in. I waited until he was behind the wheel. “Blake wants to talk tonight.”
“Yeah, I know. He apparently got ahold of Dawson and already told him about the whole onyx tolerance thing.” He backed out, hand on the gear shifter. Anger lit up his eyes. “And of course, Dawson is all about that. It was like handing him a winning lottery ticket.”
“Great.” I tilted my head back against the seat. Dawson really was a suicidal Energizer bunny.
And suddenly it struck me. This was my life—all of this craziness. The ups and downs, the near-death moments and those far worse, the lies and the fact I probably wouldn’t be able to trust anyone who befriended me without worrying if they were an implant. And hell, how could I really befriend anyone normal? Like Daemon in the beginning—he’d stayed away and wanted Dee to do the same so I wouldn’t be caught in their world.
It would be the same with anyone I met.
My life wasn’t my own. Every moment was like waiting for the other shoe to drop. I sank back against the seat, weighted down, and sighed. “There go my reviewing and reading plans.”