Page 64 of The Pawn

Blake gives Lukas a dismissive glance, then prowls out of our section of the library, and good riddance.

"What was he talking about?" Lukas asks, frowning up at me. "What isthe truthor whatever?"

"Nothing you need to worry about," I lie, wondering what I've gotten myself into. "Question: do you have any computer skills? Because ifthisis broken beyond repair, I'm pretty sure Iwillbe failing out this semester, no matter what I do."

I hold the laptop out to Lukas, and he stares at its cracked case. Opening his mouth, he looks for a moment like he's going to push the issue of "the truth," and I wonder if this is the end of us—whateverusreally is.

But then he just says, "Sure, I might be able to fix it. Let's get it over to that table under the light so I can see if anything got broken when it fell."

I send a little prayer of thanks up that he didn't probe any further into the darkness inside me. Given all his light, I doubt a boy like Lukas DuPont would see me—allof me—and want to stick around after.

Chapter 33

"Ithink these screws got a little loose, and this wire came undone. Hold on..."

Lukas has, of all things, a tiny set of screwdrivers in his bag, which of course he uses to help me figure out what's going on. "There. I'll boot it up, and if you could login so I can check that the hard drive is in working order, it should be all good."

Relief fills me. "Thanks so much."

"No problem." He watches me as he holds down the power button. "This computer means a lot to you, I sense."

I can't tell him the real reason why it does: because it's the last thing I have that connects me to Silas. Instead, I give him another, still truthful, reason.

"I can't afford a new one."

"Ah. Of course." Bright pink flushes his cheeks, making him look embarrassed. "That should've occurred to me. I'm thoughtless sometimes about issues concerning..."

He's so blue blood he can't even say the word. "Money?"

"Yes." A sigh, and an arch of his blond brow. "It's very pretentious, isn't it? But I just forget it's an issue for anyone else, because it's never been an issue for me."

His shoes probably cost more than this laptop, and I don't want to think about how much his actual computer cost. Now that it's been spoken out loud, though, I can't help but feel the impossible divide between his position and mine. There's nothing but a table between us, but it might as well be the Pacific Ocean when you talk about things like money and class.

"The login screen is up now." Instead of talking further about the one subject we can't discuss, I type in Silas's password, thankful I was able to change his user name so I don't out myself. "It looks fine... oh, what's that warning?"

Lukas turns the computer towards him. "Your hard drive is full. You won't be able to save any new files until that's fixed. How odd... it has a one terabyte drive." Frowning, he clicks through a number of window so quickly that I can barely skim them, much less understand what they say. "Huh. You'd have a lot more space for your schoolwork if you got rid of this partitioned part of your drive."

"Partition?" I frown; I have no idea what he's talking about.

"There's a separate operating system on here. It's hidden away, but you can find it. If you login and move everything over from the partition onto your main operating system, it'll greatly increase your free disk space." Studying me—I must look clueless—he adds, "Or you could just delete all your caches and any duplicated files."

"Yeah, I'll just... do that."

Lukas's mouth curves up into a soft, kind smile. "Or I can do it for you."

"Could you? I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Sure. Just give me a moment." He turns the computer towards himself, fingers flying on the keyboard. An awkward silence descends for a moment, and he breaks it by asking, "So what was the deal with you and Blake just then? It seemed like something more than simple animosity on your end."

"He threw out my test to try to get me to fail calculus," I point out, skirting around other, darker reasons that I have for hating him. "And you saw that video of him going mental in that club in Seoul."

"That was a dark moment in his life. We all have them."

This, more than anything, is what frustrates me about Lukas. There's always an excuse for his friends' behavior—even when that behavior should be in inexcusable.

"Can you blame me for disliking him?" I raise my brows in his direction. "He wants me out of this school. He said as much. So have Cole and Tanner."

Lukas's mouth tightens into a thin line. Beneath his breath he mutters, "We shouldn't talk about this."

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