Page 96 of Life and Death
I tried to speak in a normal voice. “And you have to leave now?”
“Yes.” She let her hands drop. I kept my hand against her forearm. She looked at the place where we were connected, and she sighed. Suddenly her mood shifted and she grinned. “It’s probably for the best. We still have fifteen minutes of that wretched movie left to endure in Biology—I don’t think I could take any more.”
I jumped, yanking my hand back. Archie—taller than I’d thought, his hair just a shadow of dark stubble against his scalp, his eyes dark as ink—was suddenly standing behind Edythe’s shoulder.
Edythe greeted him without looking away from me. “Archie.”
“Edythe,” he answered, imitating her tone with a mocking twist. His voice was a soft tenor, velvety like hers.
“Archie, Beau—Beau, Archie,” she introduced us, a wry smile on her face.
“Hello, Beau.” His eyes glittered like black diamonds, but his smile was friendly. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Just the lightest stress on thefinally.
Edythe flashed a dark look at him.
It was not hard for me to believe that Archie was a vampire. Standing two feet away from me. With dark, hungry eyes. I felt a bead of sweat roll down the back of my neck.
“Um, hey, Archie.”
“Are you ready?” he asked her.
Her voice was cold. “Nearly. I’ll meet you at the car.”
He left without another word; the way he moved was so fluid, so sinuous, it made me think of dancers again, though it wasn’t really that human.
I swallowed. “Should I say ‘have fun,’or is that the wrong sentiment?”
“‘Have fun’works as well as anything.” She grinned.
“Have fun, then.” I tried to sound enthusiastic, but of course she wasn’t fooled.
“I’ll try. And you try to be safe, please.”
I sighed. “Safe in Forks—what a challenge.”
Her jaw tightened. “For you itisa challenge. Promise.”
“I promise to try to be safe,” I recited. “I was meaning to deal with the laundry . . . or is that too hazardous a task? I mean, I could fall in or something.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Okay, okay, I’ll do my best.”
She stood, and I rose, too.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” I sighed.
She smiled a wistful smile. “It seems like a long time to you, doesn’t it?”
I nodded glumly.
“I’ll be there in the morning,” she promised, and then she walked to my side, touched the back of my hand lightly, and turned to walk away. I stared after her until she was gone.
I really did not want to go to class, and I thought about a little healthy ditching, but I decided it would be irresponsible. I knew that if I disappeared now, McKayla and the others would assume I’d gone with Edythe. And Edythe was worried about the time we’d spent together publicly . . . if things went wrong. I wasn’t going to think about what that would mean, or how painful it might be. I just worked out the ways I could make things safer for her. Which meant going to class.
I felt certain—and I thought she did, too—that tomorrow would change everything for us. She and I . . . if we were going to be together, we had to face this square on. We couldn’t keep trying to balance on this precarious edge of almost-together. We would fall to one side or the other, and it all depended on her. I was all in, before I’d even consciously chosen, and I was committed to seeing this through. Because there was nothing more terrifying to me, more painful, than the idea of never seeing her again.
It didn’t help my concentration so much that she wasn’t next to me in Biology. The tension and electricity were gone, but my mind was too wrapped around the idea of tomorrow to pay attention.
