Chapter Twenty-One
A Ruse
I walk to Ceramics with a late slip in hand. When I step inside, there isn’t the usual chattering or wandering energy as students work on various projects. Instead, everyone sits at tables, heads down, pencils scratching against paper. There are a sum total of two tests in Ceramics and I forgot that today happens to be one of them.
Our teacher stands behind his desk, so absorbed in the glazing of his latest masterpiece that he doesn’t notice me in the doorway. But Luka does. He stares at me with his wiry muscles coiled, as if ready to spring like a lion across the length of the room. His green eyes burn with questions. Swallowing, I shuffle over to our teacher on wobbly legs and hand him the late pass. Without looking up, he nods at the stack of tests. I take one off the top, looking from the empty seat next to Luka to the empty seat next to Leela. I’m not brave enough to take the former, so I pretend not to notice his intense stare-down and walk over to my friend, who watches me with wide, eager eyes.
Before my backside makes contact with the stool, she leans close and whispers, “I’ve been going crazy. I called you a million times last night but you didn’t answer.”
I look over my shoulder, then whisper back, “My phone was on silent.”
“You have to tell me everything that happened. You were in Luka’s house! What did you talk about? Were you nervous? What does his room look like?”
Our teacher clears his throat loudly and gives Leela and me a high-browed stare. I give her a helpless shrug, secretly thankful to be caught. I have no idea what to tell her.
“After class.” Leela mouths the words, then turns her attention to the test.
My stomach tightens as I jot my name on the top of the paper and try to focus on the questions, but they are a blur of incoherent lines and loops and curves. While I fill in bubbles and write answers that can’t be correct, I try to think of something—anything—to tell my friend. But nothing comes. So I stall. By the time both sides are meticulously filled, class is thirty seconds shy of ending. I hand in my test, the bell rings, and when I turn around, Luka stands behind me with my bag.
He puts his hand on the small of my back and ushers me out of class. I manage a quick glance over my shoulder. Leela stands with her mouth open, watching us leave. As soon as we’re out in the hallway, he pulls me toward the wall. Students shuffle past, all of them looking at us, some more discreetly than others.
“I waited for you in my driveway all morning, but you never showed.” He leans closer, bringing with him the clean, fresh scent that is him. “What happened? Where’ve you been?”
The chill that’s haunted me since that man put a gun in his mouth ripples up my spine. I cross my arms as Leela walks out of class. I try to muster up the energy for a friendly smile. She clutches her books to her chest and hurries past, but not before I catch a glimpse of hurt in her eyes. She thinks I’m intentionally leaving her out.
“Tess, you’re killing me.”
My attention zips back to the boy in front of me, waiting for an explanation I’m not sure I’ve found yet. His attractiveness doesn’t bring any coherency to my erratic thoughts either. “Last night, in …” I look around, checking for eavesdroppers. We’re about to enter into a very strange conversation. “Our dream. What happened to me? Where did I go?”
“I don’t know.” His voice is low, for my ears only. “One second you were in front of me, the next you weren’t. But I could hear things. It sounded like you were struggling, like you were fighting to escape something. And then you weren’t in class this morning.”
I look into the green depths of Luka’s eyes. “I wasn’t the one struggling.”
“Who was it?”
“My grandmother.” I press cold, clammy fingers against my temples. I still can’t believe she’s alive.
“Your grandmother? Wait a minute, you mentioned her. Right before …”
A group of seniors walks toward us, their pace slowing like cars at the scene of a crash. They obviously don’t get it—me and Luka. Their skepticism oozes into the air.
Luka leans even closer, so much so that his breath tickles my neck and tingles my skin. I close my eyes, wishing everything but him and the feel of his nearness would disappear. “We can’t talk about this here. I’ll find you at lunch.”
By the time my eyes open, he is already gone.
I step out of line with a tray of my usual—apple, sandwich, chocolate milk—and catch Leela waving from our table. Uncertain as to whether I should join her or not, I wave back. Then Luka’s hand presses firmly against the small of my back. “Follow me,” he whispers.
So I do. Because if I don’t dispel all the junk expanding inside my head, I will explode. I just wish me not exploding didn’t have to hurt Leela. Her face clouds with confusion as I give her a helpless shrug and follow Luka past his friends. Summer and Bobbi and Matt and the others stare at me like I’ve grown a beard or a third ear. I can feel the entire room’s eyes on me as we find a table on the periphery of the cafeteria. Luka pulls out my chair and takes a seat beside me, his back to the student body, which ogles with equal parts curiosity and disbelief.
My attention snags on Pete, who sits at the same table as yesterday, with Wren and Jess, the school freaks. Only instead of sitting in silence, their heads are bent together. Pete’s lips move and I have this unexplainable sinking sensation. Pete and I didn’t debrief after this morning’s impromptu family meeting. Surely he knows that the things we learned are strictly confidential. But when he finishes whatever he’s saying, Wren leans back in her chair, a disturbing, enigmatic glow to her cheeks.
A surge of heat rises in my chest. I would like nothing more than to go over there, grab Pete’s arm, and yank him away. He doesn’t belong with those two. Instead, I swallow the impulse and look down at my tray.
“You okay?” Luka asks.
“Besides the fact that I’m going crazy? Sure.”
“You’re not going crazy.” He folds his arms on the table.
“My grandmother was crazy. It must skip a generation.”
Shaking his head, he cracks open his Mountain Dew.
I glance past him, at our classmates. “Everybody is staring.”
“Let them,” he says, opening my chocolate milk and setting it in front of me. “And while they stare, why don’t you tell me about your grandmother?”
“She suffered from psychosis.” My voice is lifeless and dull.
“I take it you didn’t know this?”
“Not until we moved to Thornsdale. For as long as I can remember, my parents have always told me that she died of a heart attack when Pete and I were really little, but last night I dreamt about her.”
“And that means she’s not dead?”
I pick at a fray in the knee of my jeans, battling uncertainty. The man in my nightmare warned me against hanging out with Luka. And now here I am, spilling my guts. I don’t know who to trust anymore. “Luka, can I trust you?”
He draws back. “Why do you ask that?”
“You didn’t answer the question.”
“Of course you can trust me.” His eyebrows pinch together. “Tess, what’s going on?”
“There was a man in my dream last night. He said you were dangerous company.”
“Dangerous?” Luka’s eyes narrow. “Who was this guy?”
“I don’t know. He was with my grandma. I think maybe he was her doctor or something. After I left the beach, I was in this white room and there was this old woman who looked like my dad. She was restrained to this bed, only she was trying to get free.” I squint, trying to recall the details. “And the guy was there. I don’t really remember what he looked like, except he had a scar on his face. He told me if I wasn’t careful, I’d end up like her.”
A muscle ticks in Luka’s jaw. He looks angry.
“Then all of a sudden I was somewhere else. In a house with a man.”
“The one with the scar?”
“No, somebody else. H
e was really sad and he had a gun.” It was the first time I’ve ever seen one so up close. People aren’t supposed to own guns. “He stuck it in his mouth and he …” I close my eyes, wishing I could blot out the memory. “He pulled the trigger. That same guy committed suicide last night. I looked it up on the computer and his picture’s the same. He lived on the other side of town. He had two kids and a wife.”
Luka sits very close and very still, his expression unreadable.
“Then this morning, I found out that my grandma has been alive all this time. My parents have been lying to me all these years. Supposedly, she tried to kidnap me when I was a baby and now she’s locked up in some mental hospital.” A hot lump expands inside my throat. How did my world turn upside down so quickly? Is it really possible that last week, I was a nobody eating lunch with Leela? Now I’m talking about impossible things with the most sought-after boy in school, an invisible target on my forehead. I dig my fingers into my hair. “I know you see what I see, Luka. But how do I know you aren’t another delusion? How do I know I’m not sitting here at this table, talking to myself?”
“I’m real, Tess. You can touch me if you want.” He extends his hand, palm up.
I stare at the offering, doubtful it will do much to settle my nerves. Or get rid of the stares. “I bet that’s the kind of thing people suffering from psychosis tell themselves.”
Luka pivots so his chair faces mine, reaches under my seat, and pulls my chair closer. My eyes widen. “You aren’t suffering from psychosis.”
I let out a long breath and catch Leela picking at her food, her shoulders devoid of their usual perk. I wish more than anything that I could tell her the truth. I need someone to confide in. “I wish I could tell Leela.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
My insides deflate. Luka is right, of course. “What am I supposed to tell her, then?”
“About what?”
“This.” I motion from him to me. “Us. She’s going to ask.”
Luka chews on his thumbnail, as if considering. I take an unenthusiastic drink of my chocolate milk, trying to think of a believable explanation, but my headache makes thinking impossible. “You could tell her we’re dating,” he says.
I laugh.
“What?”
“Nobody will believe that.”
“Why not?”
“Because …” My cheeks catch fire. He needs to go look in a mirror. Boys like him do not date girls like me. The student body would have an easier time believing there are angels in Ceramics. “It’s not believable.”
He opens his mouth, but before he can say whatever it is he was about to say, Matt and Jared plop down at our table. Luka leans back in his seat, away from me while Matt plucks the apple off my tray and takes a bite. “What’s up Williams? Too cool to sit with us now?”
Jared motions toward my chips. “You going to eat those?”
“Go ahead,” I say.
“Summer glared at you the entire lunch period.” Matt takes another bite out of my apple, specks of juice spitting from the flesh as he does. “I thought her head was going to pop off. It wasn’t attractive.”
“Summer’s always attractive,” Jared says, opening my bag of chips.
Matt tips his chin at me. “Better watch out, new girl.”
“She has a name,” Luka says.
I peek at Leela. She dumps her food in the trash and hurries out of the cafeteria, keeping her head down the entire way.
After school, I find Leela in the locker bay. As soon as she sees me, she slams her locker shut and hurries away. I hurry after her. “Leela!”
If she hears me, she doesn’t stop.
“Leela,” I call again, weaving my way through students, trying to close the gap between us. “Leela, will you wait?” I grab her arm and she spins around, her expression a strange mixture of hurt and hard. I let go. “Hi,” I say lamely.
“So you’re talking to me now?”
“Of course I’m talking to you.”
“You sure that’s smart?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, now that you’re in with the popular crowd, are you sure you want to be seen with somebody like me?”
“I’m not in with the popular crowd. And even if I was, that wouldn’t change the fact that you’re my best friend.”
Her face softens a little at the declaration. She bites her lip. “You were sitting with three of the most popular boys in the whole school at lunch today. I think that makes you a part of the crowd.”
“I was sitting with Luka. Matt and Jared didn’t sit with us until the very end.”
Leela crosses her arms and continues her lip nibbling. “I tell you everything, Tess. You even know how I feel about your brother, which is embarrassing. But that’s what best friends do. They tell each other everything.”
My insides go all perky and warm. So Leela agrees—we are best friends. I’ve never had one of those before. The urge to confide in her grows, but Luka’s warning is fresh. And the memory of his suggested cover-up makes my insides go from warm to hot. Dating Luka? Nobody’s going to believe that.
“I feel like you’re keeping secrets from me,” she says.
“I don’t want to.”
“Then tell me what’s going on. What happened yesterday when you went to his house? And what were you talking about at lunch today? You both looked so … intense.”
I sigh. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”
“Try me.”
“Luka and I—we’re sort of …” Crazy. Nuts. Suffering from psychosis. Sharing the same dreams. Seeing white-eyed demons in pep rallies and angels in ceramics class and somehow, in a crazy universe that makes no sense at all, this makes him interested in me. “Together.”
Leela’s jaw drops.
Heat mounts in my cheeks. “See.”
“Oh no, I totally believe you. He hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off you since your first day of school. He watches you like a hawk.”
“What? No he doesn’t.”
“Yes, he does. And I’m not the only one who’s noticed either. Why do you think Summer’s always scowling at you?”
“Because she’s inclined to scowl at people?”
Leela’s eyes are bright and wide. Any trace of hurt has evaporated. “I cannot believe this! Luka’s never dated anyone. And now you two are together?” Her expression falters. “Why aren’t you more excited about this?”
I hook my thumbs beneath the straps of my backpack. “I am.”
She looks highly skeptical.
“No, really. I am. It’s just …” I sigh, wishing I could join Leela in her enthusiasm. Wishing this wasn’t a ruse. Wishing I really was the new girl who gained the impossible-to-get attention of a cute, popular boy. “I found out that my grandmother’s sick. That’s why I was late this morning.” This, at least, isn’t a lie. My grandmother—wherever she is—is very, very sick. “Luka’s helping me process.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.”
I shrug off the condolence. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Or answer any questions about my grandmother’s sickness. I need a subject change. “Hey, why don’t we go to that party tomorrow? The Halloween party. You still wanna go?”
“Are you kidding? Of course I want to go!” Leela wags her eyebrows. “Maybe your boyfriend wants to come, too.”
I let out a nervous laugh. “He’s not really my boyfriend.”
“That’s what together means, doesn’t it? Oh my gosh, is he a good kisser?”
“Leela.”
A far-off, dreamy look clouds her eyes. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are?” She blinks several times, as if realizing something important, and grips onto my forearm. “Or how much trouble?”
“Trouble?”
“Summer is going to kill you.”
Really, Summer is the least of my worries.