“We’re not exactly dressed for a swim this time,” he said, pointing at Luce’s black dress.
She fingered the delicate eyelet hem at her knees, imagining her mom’s shock if she ruined a good dress because she and a boy wanted to dive into a lake. “Maybe we could just stick our feet in?”
Daniel motioned toward the steep red rock path that led down to the water. They climbed over thick, tawny reeds and lake grass and used the twisted stumps of live oak trees to keep their balance. Here, the shore of the lake turned to pebbles. The water looked so still, she felt she almost could have walked on it.
Luce kicked off her black ballet flats and skimmed the lily-padded surface with her toes. The water was cooler than it had been the other day. Daniel picked a strand of lake grass and started braiding its thick stem.
He looked at her. “You ever think about getting out of here—”
“All the time,” she said with a groan, assuming he meant that he did, too. Of course, she wanted to get as far away from Sword & Cross as possible. Anyone would. But she tried at least to keep her mind from whirling out of control, toward fantasies of her and Daniel plotting an escape.
“No,” Daniel said, “I mean, have you really considered going somewhere else? Asking your parents for a transfer? It’s just … Sword & Cross doesn’t seem like the best fit for you.”
Luce took a seat on a rock opposite Daniel and hugged her knees. If he was suggesting that she was a reject among a student body full of rejects, she couldn’t help feeling a little insulted.
She cleared her throat. “I can’t afford the luxury of seriously considering someplace else. Sword & Cross is”—she paused—“pretty much a last-ditch effort for me.”
“Come on,” Daniel said.
“You wouldn’t know—”
“I would.” He sighed. “There’s always another stop, Luce.”
“That’s very prophetic, Daniel,” she said. She could feel her voice rising. “But if you’re so interested in getting rid of me, what are we doing? No one asked you to drag me out here with you.”
“No,” he said. “You’re right. I meant that you’re not like people here. There’s got to be a better place for you.”
Luce’s heart was beating quickly, which it usually did around Daniel. But this was different. This whole scene was making her sweat.
“When I came here,” she said, “I made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t tell anyone about my past, or what I’d done to land myself at this place.”
Daniel dropped his head into his hands. “What I’m talking about has nothing to do with what happened with that guy—”
“You know about him?” Luce’s face crumpled. No. How could Daniel know? “Whatever Molly told you …”
But she knew it was too late. Daniel had been the one to find her with Todd. If Molly had told him anything about how Luce had also been implicated in another mysterious fiery death, she couldn’t begin to imagine explaining it.
“Listen,” he said, gripping her hands. “What I’m saying, it has nothing to do with that part of your past.”
She found that hard to believe. “Then does it have to do with Todd?”
He shook his head. “It has to do with this place. It has to do with things …”
Daniel’s touch jostled something in her mind. She started thinking about the wild shadows she’d seen that night. The way they’d changed so much since she’d arrived at this school—from a sneaky, unsettling threat to now almost-ubiquitous, full-blown terrors.
She was crazy—that must be what Daniel sensed about her. Maybe he thought she was pretty, but he knew deep down she was seriously disturbed. That was why he wanted her to leave, so he wouldn’t be tempted to get involved with someone like her. If that was what Daniel thought, he didn’t know the half of it.
“Maybe it has to do with the weird black shadows I saw the night Todd died?” she said, hoping to shock him. But as soon as she’d said the words, she knew her intent was not to freak Daniel out even more … it was to finally tell someone. It wasn’t like she had much more to lose.
“What did you say?” he asked slowly.
“Oh, you know,” she said, shrugging now, trying to downplay what she’d just said. “Once a day or so, I get these visits from these dark things I call the shadows.”
“Don’t be cute,” Daniel said curtly. And even though his tone stung, she knew he was right. She hated how falsely nonchalant she sounded, when really she was all wound up. But should she tell him? Could she? He was nodding for her to go on. His eyes seemed to reach out and pull the words from inside her.
“It’s gone on for the last twelve years,” she admitted finally, with a deep shudder. “It used to just be at night, when I was near water or trees, but now …” Her hands were shaking. “It’s practically nonstop.”
“What do they do?”
She would have thought he was just humoring her, or trying to get her to go on so he could crack a joke at her expense, except his voice had gone hoarse and his face was drained of color.
“Usually, they start out by hovering right about here.” She reached around to the back of Daniel’s neck and tickled him to demonstrate. For once, she wasn’t just trying to get physically close to him—this really was the only way she knew how to explain. Especially since the shadows had begun to infringe on her body in such a palpable, physical way.
Daniel didn’t flinch, so she continued. “Then sometimes they get really bold,” she said, moving to her knees and placing her hands on his chest. “And they shove right up against me.” Now she was right in his face. Her lip quivered and she couldn’t believe she was actually opening up to anyone—let alone Daniel—about the horrible things she saw. Her voice dropped to a whisper and she said, “Recently, they don’t seem satisfied until they’ve”—she swallowed—“taken someone’s life and knocked me flat on my back.”
She gave his shoulders the tiniest push, not intending to affect him at all, but the lightest touch of her fingertips was enough to knock Daniel over.
His fall took her so much by surprise, she accidentally lost her own balance and landed in a tangled heap on top of him. Daniel was flat on his back, looking at her with wide eyes.
She should not have told him that. Here she was, on top of him, and she’d just divulged her deepest secret, the thing that really defined her as a lunatic.
How could she still want to kiss him so badly at a time like this?
Her heart was pounding impossibly fast. Then she realized: She was feeling both of their hearts, racing each other. A kind of desperate conversation, one they couldn’t have with words.
“You really see them?” he whispered.
“Yes,” she whispered, wanting to pick herself up and take it all back. And yet she was unable to move off Daniel’s chest. She tried to read his thoughts—what any normal person would think about an admission like hers. “Let me guess,” she said glumly. “Now you’re certain I need a transfer. To a psychiatric ward.”
He pushed himself out from under her, leaving her lying practically face-first on the rock. Her eyes moved up his feet, to his legs, to his torso, to his face. He was staring up at the forest.