Page 62 of The Pawn

"Alright. I think we're almost done." Lukas takes his glasses off and puts them back in the case. "We'll just have to meet up again in a few weeks and swap research notes."

"Sounds good." Clicking open the calendar on my phone, though, I frown at him. "Except that I'll be preparing for the Blind Ball with the Rosalinds that whole time."

"Oh, right. I forgot about that." He looks up at me as he slides his expensive, top-of-the line computer into his bag. "Who are you going with?"

"It's ablindball," I remind him. "No one is allowed to know who their date will be."

"Spare me, Brenna. Everyone knows that the Rosalinds pick the dates. I'm sure you'll get to pick yours." He studies me. "I know you and Tanner almost had a thing, but that was a while back, and I haven't seen you with anyone since then. So who will it be?"

A blush starts on my cheeks and spreads down to my neck. "You've been watching me enough to know about my love life?"

Lukas shrugs, like it doesn't bother him at all to be caught noticing me. "I wanted to make sure Cole and Tanner didn't go too far with their pranks—or Blake, for that matter, though he seems to be too busy to do much. So I've been watching you, where I can. I'm surprised you didn't notice."

Looking back, I can suddenly spot patterns. The way he sometimes hung back as the others walked by our table and watched us. How he was almost always outside my Calculus I class as I headed out to World History. Bumping into him as I left the tent after Visual Arts.

But I thought it was just because Coleridge is a small place. He never did, or said, anything to me. And he's never intervened.

"If you've been watching me, why haven't you done anything to step in?"

"I thought about it," he admits. "But to be honest, it seemed like you could handle yourself. Cole told me about the spiders thing—very inventive. And he was frustrated that you weren't frightened by the snake. I also worried... well, I shouldn't say."

Sensing something, a little fracture in his relationship with the others maybe, my instincts say to push. "Tell me. Whatever it is, shouldn't I know?"

Those blue eyes study me. The space between us is silent but somehow filled with unspoken tension. He leans forward in his chair, and I mirror him, suddenly aware of how close we are—and how good he smells, like warm cedar chips and fresh apple cider.

"To tell you the truth, I worried that if I intervened, Cole might... ratchet things up a bit. Sense more of a competition. As long as it's three against one, there's no reason for him to escalate things. But if I switch sides, and he resents you for it, I worry what he might do."

I take a deep breath in, weighing my next words—and also, as a bonus, inhaling his sweet autumnal scent.

"If you're worried about what your friend might do, isn't that a sign of something?" Chewing on my lip, I resist the urge to mention what was done to my brother, and how his life ended. "A sign that maybe he goes too far, and someone should stop him."

"I..." Lukas opens his mouth, pauses, and looks at me. Then he reaches out and places his hand on my knee. "I swear to you, if he ever crossed a line, I would be done with him. Forever."

I feel like my heart is being torn in two. I'm being pulled between the present and the past, what the worldisand what itshouldbe: a world with my brother in it. "Don't be so sure he hasn't crossed lines already."

"He wouldn't," his voice is soft, his eyes meeting mine steadily. "Cole knows what it looks like when a man like him crosses the line. He's seen the consequences up close and personal." My mind flashes back to Cole outside the rock climbing locker room, his shirt off, a giant scar twisted from his hip to his shoulder. "He has his faults, but at the end of the day, he's fighting for something bigger than himself."

"And that is?"

"Justice."

Lukas DuPont really, sincerely believes this with all his heart and soul. I can tell by the expression on his face, the steadiness of his gaze, and the conviction in his voice.

What happened to my brother isn't justice.

But if I tell Lukas the truth, and he doesn't already know, I'm afraid he'll turn against me. I know how he feels about liars. The thought of him seeing me that way, looking at me differently, is almost too much to bear.

I'm in traitorous waters.

"Well?" Lukas asks. "You look like you're thinking pretty deeply. Shilling for your thoughts."

I can't think of anything to say that wouldn't reveal every secret of mine, every lie, every traitorous impulse. Even now, I've got a stolen credit card in my wallet and an appointment for a hair makeover I can't afford. Whatever lines there are that separate what I'm doing from a search for justice, I've lost sight of them somewhere in the expensive bowels of Coleridge.

So I do something other than speak.

I lean forward and press my mouth against Lukas DuPont's plush, perfect lips.

At first he's unmoving beneath my touch, startled and still as a statue. My heart does somersaults as I wonder if I've misread him, if these past few weeks together I've been mistaken about his intentions.

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