Never in my life would I have ever imagined feeling a fondness or longing for Ashe High, but that was exactly what I wanted right then—to be back on familiar ground.
I should be in Brit Lit right now. The realization almost made me stumble; the idea that my “normal” existence was continuing on without me felt like a shock somehow. That there’d be an empty desk that would still be “mine” even though I wasn’t there to claim it anymore.
I wondered if Rachel was back in school. If she’d noticed that Zane and I were both missing. Was Jenna still angry with me? Was it a Tater Tot day in the cafeteria? Or french fries?
My chest ached with a confusing mix of sorrow and relief. For all its flaws and imperfections, my life in Wingate had been…well, my life. And Ashe High, along with the rest of it, was gone for good.
Except for Zane.
Without letting myself stop to think about it, I reached over and slid my hand into Zane’s.
I felt his surprise, but he didn’t hesitate, closing his fingers tightly over mine and giving a gentle squeeze.
“Thank you,” I said, fighting the tears that suddenly welled up.
“For what?” he asked.
“For this,” I said. “For going through with this even though you think it’s a bad idea. For being here.” With me.
He glanced at the doors before pulling me off to the side. He caressed the line of my cheek with his thumb, his eyes serious, and then he leaned in and kissed me.
And this was not just any “hey, good luck” brush of the lips. His hand was buried in my hair at the back of my neck, pulling me close, and I could feel his breath against my skin, his tongue sweeping over mine.
I wrapped my hands in his shirt, likely making wrinkles in the otherwise smooth fabric, but I couldn’t bring myself to care even a little bit.
The way he made the world fall away so I couldn’t hear anything, couldn’t feel anything but this? It was magic. And I wanted more. I wanted everything.
“Just…be careful, okay?” he asked when he finally pulled away.
I blinked, struggling to process both the kiss and the emotions I could now sense pouring off him. He was worried that I’d find Laughlin’s hybrids and they’d hurt me. I could hear that from him plainly. But he was equally worried about what might happen if they didn’t attack, if they greeted me with open arms.
“I promise,” I said, still reeling.
The bell rang, then, a fancy mellow-sounding tone that sounded more like a call to meditation.
He grinned at me. “Told you we’d be fine.”
Guessing the bell schedule correctly was only part of the equation, but I had to smile back. It was hard to resist his confidence.
Zane pulled the door open, holding it for me and then following me in.
I crossed the threshold, stepping onto a pristine and polished blond wood floor of another world. No trophy cases or state championship banners hanging here. The air, though, smelled familiar. A combination of cleaning products, too much body spray, and angst.
In the distance, where the entryway turned into a hall and met with another corridor, I could see blue-and-khaki-clad students flowing through, like deoxygenated blood returning to the heart.
But thankfully, the entryway where we stood was empty, for the moment, so no one had witnessed our arrival. Four sleek, metal benches lined the walls, a tiny sculpted tree in a matching pot between each set of benches. A doorway on the left side of the hall, between the benches (and trees) buzzed with the sounds of voices, laughter, and a phone ringing. Adult voices. Teachers. The office, most likely.
Great. I’d expected it to be near the entrance, of course, but I hadn’t anticipated that it would be quite so isolated here. No crowds of students to blend into.
“Where to first?” Zane asked under his breath.
“Away from here.” I bobbed my head toward the door, where a man in a gray uniform was now visible, his arm looping over the door frame as he finished talking to someone inside.
Zane stiffened, and I felt a spike of dread from him.
“Keep your head up, and walk quickly, but not like we’re rushing,” I whispered.
He nodded.
I led the way, flinching at every squeak of our shoes on the polished floors. It felt as if it took hours to cross those ten feet or so. Long enough for me to seriously reconsider this plan. I had no idea what the consequences would be for trespassing on private school property and imitating Linwood Academy students. But I was betting it involved the police, which was the last thing we needed right now.
When we passed the office door without anyone sounding the alarm, Zane flashed me a grin, as if to say, mission accomplished.
Well, sort of. More like “not-immediate-mission-failure.” Which was, I suppose, something.
“Let’s see if we can find the cafeteria,” I said quietly, nodding to a point ahead of us where the hall branched to the left and right. “More people in one room raises our chances of—”
“What do you think you’re doing?” someone demanded from behind us.
Well, that couldn’t be good.
12
Zane
I STIFFENED, THEN TURNED, MOVING to step in front of Ariane, only to find a thin, weedy guy scowling at us a few feet from the doorway of the office, a stack of papers in hand. His white button-down shirt had a Florida-shaped coffee stain on the left side, and his ratio of hair to bald spot was definitely heading in the wrong direction.
“I’m waiting for an answer,” the teacher prompted, his expression distinctly sour.
I opened my mouth to say something—I didn’t know what, some kind of excuse—but then I realized he wasn’t even looking at me.
“Were you outside? You know you’re not supposed to leave the building during school hours,” he scolded Ariane. “Especially unescorted.”
I frowned. Okay, that was weird.
Ariane froze under his glare, and I remembered belatedly that she’d spent years trying to fly beneath the radar. Getting called out by an authority figure was probably new to her; I, however, had had years of practice in the fake obeisance department, thanks to my dad.
“It was my fault,” I began. “I had to get—”
“Sorry,” Ariane said. “I just needed some air.”
He jerked as though she’d poked at him with a stick. “You were with him?” he asked Ariane, pointing at me, his eyes wide with surprise.
Ariane’s pale cheeks colored slightly. “We were only outside for a few minutes,” she said, her tone stiff. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to get that she was taking his shock as a personal insult.
He frowned at her. “That’s no excuse,” he said, but his anger was muted now under something more like confusion.
Then he shifted his attention to me, scanning me from head to toe. “Where’s your jacket?”
The Linwood blazer that we couldn’t reasonably replicate, thanks to the oversize and douche-y crest on the breast of it? Yeah, we’d skipped those, thinking that no one would actually wear that once they got inside the building. But apparently we were playing by private school rules now.
“Probably left it in my locker,” I offered.
His mouth screwed up in distaste. “Funny.” He narrowed his eyes at me. “Being out of uniform will cost you both a demerit.” His gaze skated to Ariane again. “I don’t care who your father is.”
Huh. Okay, that was kind of random.
I looked to Ariane, but she gave a tiny shake of her head. She didn’t know what he was talking about either.
The teacher reached into his shirt pocket and produced a pad of green slips.