Evernight
I sighed. “I know. I can see for myself.”
“Hold still.” Patrice came up behind me, shook out the uneven braids I’d painstakingly woven, and ruffled her fingers through the strands. Then she gathered my hair back in a soft knot just at the nape of my neck. A few tendrils slipped loose to frame my face—messy but beautiful, just the way I always wanted my hair to look. Watching this transformation in the mirror, I thought it looked almost as if my hair had been fixed by magic.
“How did you do that?”
“You learn over time.” She smiled, prouder of her handiwork than of me. “Your hair’s a wonderful color, you know. When it falls over the ivory of this sweater, you get to show it off more. See?”
When did this shade of red become a “wonderful color” for hair? I smiled at my reflection, thinking that as long as Lucas and I were going out, any miracle was possible.
“Beautiful,” Patrice said, and this time, somehow, I realized that she meant it. The compliment was still impersonal—I thought that the idea of beauty meant more to her than I did. But she wouldn’t say I looked beautiful if she didn’t think so.
Bashful and delighted, I stared at my reflection a little while longer. If Patrice could see something beautiful in me, then maybe Lucas could, too.
“You look great!” Lucas called.
I nodded at him, trying to maintain eye contact as we each pushed through the students squeezing into the bus that would take us into town. Evernight Academy didn’t have anything as ordinary as a normal yellow school bus; this was a small luxury shuttle, the kind of thing a swanky hotel might operate, which had probably been rented for the occasion. I’d been shoved on in the first wave, and Lucas was still struggling to get near the door. At least I could see his smile through the window.
“Dee-luxe.” Vic laughed, flopping down into the seat next to me. He was wearing a fedora that looked like something from the 1940s, and he actually was pretty cute—but he still wasn’t who I wanted to ride with. My face must have fallen, because he nudged my shoulder. “No worries. I’m just keeping the seat warm for Lucas.”
“Thanks.”
If it hadn’t been for Vic, I wouldn’t have gotten to sit with Lucas at all. People couldn’t get onto that bus fast enough, and it seemed like about two dozen students—in fact, virtually all the kids who weren’t the “Evernight type”—were determined to get into Riverton. Given how boring Riverton was, probably they just wanted to get away from school, and anyplace else would do. I knew how they felt.
Vic gallantly surrendered his seat when Lucas finally made his way to my side, but I wouldn’t say the date started then. We were completely surrounded by other students, all of whom were laughing, talking, and shouting, relieved to be off the claustrophobic school grounds at last. Raquel was a few rows away, talking animatedly to her roommate; I must have put her fears at ease, at least for now. A few people cast curious glances in my direction that weren’t exactly friendly. Apparently I was still suspected of being part of the in crowd, which was so wrong it was funny. Vic knelt on the seat in front of us, determined to tell us all about the amp he was going to buy at a music store that was open late in town.
“What are you going to do with an amp?” I shouted over the din as we bounced along the road to town. “They’re not going to let you play electric guitar in our rooms.”
Vic shrugged, a grin still splashed across his face. “It’s enough just to look at it, man! To know I have something so excellent. Gonna make me smile every day.”
“You never stop smiling. You smile in your sleep.” Despite the teasing way Lucas said this, I could tell that, down deep, he liked Vic.
“Only way to live, you know?”
Vic was the exact opposite of the Evernight type, and I decided I liked him, too. “So what are you going to do while we’re at the movies?”
“Explore. Wander. Feel the earth beneath my feet.” Vic waggled his eyebrows. “Maybe meet some hotties in town.”
“Better buy the amp later, then,” Lucas pointed out. “It’s going to cut into your action if you have to lug that thing around with you.” Vic nodded seriously, and I hid my smile behind my hand.
So Lucas and I weren’t really alone together until we were walking along Riverton’s main street, just a block from the theater. We both brightened when we saw what was on the marquee.
“Suspicion,” he said. “Directed by Alfred Hitchcock. He’s a genius.”
“Starring Cary Grant.” When Lucas gave me a look, I added, “You have your priorities, I have mine.”
Several other students milled around in the lobby. This probably had less to do with a sudden revival in Cary Grant’s popularity than it did with the fact that Riverton didn’t offer much in the way of amusement. We were genuinely looking forward to it, though—at least, until we saw who the chaperones for the theater were.
“Believe me,” Mom said, “we’re as appalled as you are.”
“We thought for sure you’d get something to eat.” Dad had his arm around her shoulders, as though this were their date, not ours. We were all standing in front of the poster-board in the lobby, Joan Fontaine staring out at us in alarm, as though she were facing my dilemma instead of her own. “That’s the reason we decided to take positions here. Somebody else is covering the diner.”
Encouragingly, Mom added, “Not too late for pancakes. We won’t be offended.”
“It’s okay.” It was so not okay to spend my first date with my parents, but what was I supposed to say? “Turns out Lucas loves old movies, so—we’re good, right?”
“Right.” Lucas didn’t look like we were good. Somehow he looked even more freaked-out than I felt.
“Unless you like pancakes,” I said.
“No. I mean, yes, I like pancakes, but I like old movies more.” He lifted his chin, and it was almost as though he were challenging my parents to intimidate him. “We’ll stay.”
My parents, instead of becoming intimidating, grinned.
I’d told them last Sunday at dinner that Lucas and I were going into Riverton together. I didn’t really spell it out any more than that, for fear of paralyzing them with shock, but they definitely got the gist. To my surprise and relief, they hadn’t interrogated me; in fact, they’d glanced at each other first, weighing their own reactions even before mine. It was probably strange to have your “miracle baby” become old enough to go out with someone. Dad mentioned calmly that Lucas seemed like a good guy, then asked me if I wanted more macaroni and cheese.
In short, whatever crazy overprotective reaction Lucas was expecting didn’t materialize. Mom said only, “In case you’re trying to avoid us—and I would guess that you are—we’re headed to the balcony, because that’s where most of the students are going to go.”
Dad nodded. “Balconies are powerful temptations, and they exert a strong gravitational pull on fountain drinks in the hands of teenagers. I’ve seen it happen.”
Straight-faced, Lucas said, “I think I remember that from junior high science.”
My parents laughed. I basked in the warm rush of relief. They liked Lucas, and maybe someday soon they’d invite him to Sunday dinner. Already I could see Lucas beside me all the time, all the places in my life where he would fit.