Dancing in the Dark

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Elise Maxwell

Contents

Outsiders

Show me what you see

Conversations

Evasions

Date Night

Secrets Kept and Told

The Visitor

Listening Behind Closed Doors

Different?

Departure

Brothers

Dancing in the Dark

Shadow of Sleep

My Salvation

A Second Chance

Epilogue

1. Outsiders

I was dead bored. It was only fifth period, and yet I was already reduced to staring blankly at the teacher, tracing my pencil across the table over and over again. Up, then down. Up, then down. I had probably repeated this useless movement over a million times since we had arrived in this tiny town. Bluff Creek, California. It wasn't a bad place to be, or so I guessed, but it didn't make it too high on my list.

At least I wasn't suffering alone. I turned my head just a little, catching Max's eye from the desk next to mine. He mimed yawning, and I nodded my head in agreement. Even that little bit of contact, the expression of shared boredom, made me feel better. The professor droned on, and the seconds ticked by with impossible slowness. I glanced down at my watch. We still had another twenty-five minutes to go. I sighed. It felt like I was doing that a lot lately.

I hated the sameness, of getting up and already knowing everything that was going to happen during that day, and the next, and the next. Good thing I was a junior and would soon be graduating. Only to go to a new town, a new school, and start over again. I would be glad to be done with this place, though. There was no one interesting to talk to who didn't happen to be my brother and sister. And even their company became dull after this long.

The classes failed to interest me as well, though it was more my fault than the teachers'. A high school-level history class didn't hold much allure for someone who had already lived through most of the events we studied. And I possessed enough degrees in the other subjects that there was nothing new to be learned there, either. My knowledge on every subject was superior to the teachers. So I spent my classes staring into space, tracing my pencil across the table, wishing I was anywhere but here.

In a way, I guess it was a fitting price to pay. I did time for my powers by suffering in a dusty classroom.

I was a superhuman, and with my change from human to something better, I'd acquired certain talents–immortality, incredible strength and speed, the ability to shine in the sun, eyes that glowed in the dark, unspeakable beauty, freedom from human dependencies like food and sleep. Talents I now had to do my best to hide from the unsuspecting human population, often at great personal cost. It was worth it, but only just. I couldn't help but think of the rest of our kind, not the minority that lived next to humans. They ran free; humans had no clue that they even existed. I bit my lip at the thought of endless land stretching before me, limited only by my own strength and willpower. The only sound the gentle loping footfalls, the stretch and flex of muscles, with never a break in my stride. Would it really be so bad to live like that? I couldn't imagine it would be worse than this. This was torture. And, unlike Max, I had another problem that was worse than boredom.

I could feel the wind calling to me from outside. It wanted me to join it. The beckoning wisps of air were nearly irresistible, promising the freedom I so desired. But the windows of the classroom were firmly closed–not even a breath of wind made it inside this airless space. I sighed in frustration. I could feel a storm brewing.

This isolation would be almost bearable if only we didn't have to go to school. But Yvonne insisted that we needed to blend in. I remembered the day she'd told us that. I'd thrown the coffee table at her. Let's just say I wasn't too pleased about the situation. One of the things I despised most was being normal. Or trying to be normal, I should say. When you are four hundred years old and a superhuman, there's not much you can do to blend in. I did try, despite my instincts; I tried with every fiber of my being to be average. It was really pretty ironic, a fact that I realized all too well. And it was not even within the realm of possibility. I was simply not normal. I was about as far from normal as it was possible to get. And after years had rolled by, I had come to resent the tiresome disguise. I hated trying to fit in, because for me it was sheer impossibility. I would never be a cheerleader, or a science geek, or an algebra whiz. I was just me, and there was nothing I could do to change that single significant fact. Thus I suffered from the deadly boredom that was threatening to overwhelm me.

It was bad enough that I was just barely holding on to the stream of useless noise that echoed all around. Everything was looking very breakable today, even more than usual. I snapped my pencil in two with an effortless flick of my fingers, enjoying the quiet crunch of wood. It helped. But I was still unsatisfied; I could imagine myself tearing apart this room so easily. It wouldn't take more than a few seconds at most. I could almost see the scattered papers and books, whirling into the air, flying into the sky on waves of invisible air.

That only reminded me of the very real breeze outside, its noise muffled by the glass, the wind that was calling to me still. I turned my head again and saw Max looking over at me. He frowned, the familiar ridge between his pale eyebrows deepening. He worried over me, and I knew it. I sighed again, putting all thoughts of destruction from my mind. I laid my head on the desk.

It was times like this when I wished that I could sleep. It seemed miraculous that once, in a past life, it had been possible to escape my immediate surroundings. That would be one of the best things about being human. I desperately wanted the ability to close my eyes, and wake up somewhere else. I wanted to dream. I would have done anything to end this class. I glanced down at my notebook. The pages were perfectly blank, marred only by a series of light blue lines. I tried to keep my mind that way too, letting thoughts slide past without really recognizing them. It helped. I began to feel less irritated. My hands were shaking. I curled them into fists under the desk.

It had been a while since we'd had a good storm, and I was feeling the effect of it. I needed to let out the energy I was holding in. I looked over at Max pleadingly. There was a whole dictionary of meaning in that one glance. He made a sympathetic face, tapping his pen against the desk. I was quick enough to catch the hidden meaning. Morse code was something we frequently used in class, a way to talk uninterrupted. I listened as he spelled out the thing I most wanted to hear:

Let's go out tonight.

The usual place? I tapped back, my face perfectly blank.

Yep. I'll tell Addy at lunch. How bad will it be?

Bad. Bring your raincoats.

Will do.

I nodded slowly, smiling to myself. I could feel my hands tingling already, a numb prickle that reached into the tips of my fingers. It was hard to ignore the restless helpless whispering of wind outside. The clouds were gray and heavy, threatening to rain. The weight of water in the air felt like it was pulling me down. It had been slowly building up all afternoon, as the gathering clouds drew closer. It would be so good to let it rain and feel the pressure drain away…

But I couldn't, I told myself sternly. I would just have to wait. I stared at my notebook again, willing my eager anticipation to cease.

Only five more minutes were left. I could do this. I lifted my head to gaze longingly out the window, watching the wind shake the branches of trees under a low ceiling of purple clouds. Though the air couldn't reach me in here, I could read the quick flashes that it brought me. The wind told me of all it had touched, of the sights and scents outside this room. It pressed against the windows and shook the branches of ivy that covered the outer walls.

I closed my eyes and let my extra senses take over. My talents weren't limited to control over the wind. I could see the world in pictures of moving air, colors darker as the temperature lessened. It looked like infrared, except even more sensitive. The air was a mass of moving currents. The school buildings outside were dark blue, unresponsive brick, the people inside them pink with heat. At each of their centers was a pulsing red heart, brilliant, ember-like in its intensity. I fervently wished my own heart still beat. That was just one of the many things I'd given up. But this life wasn't wholly without benefits, either. Every cloud had a silver lining, however thin.

I didn't need eyes when I had this. Nothing could hide from the air itself. So that meant I could see absolutely everything. I watched the scene painted on the inside of my eyelids, a view of the school grounds and the empty forest that stretched around it…

The bell rang, and I was out of my seat before it had stopped. I pulled my canary yellow coat on, slinging my schoolbag over my shoulder as I raced outside. I was going too fast, the ground sliding like liquid under the soles of my feet, but I didn't care. When I could run faster than anything else, feel the friction like a physical pull, it was hard to keep to such a slow pace. I took deep, shaky breaths of the heavy air. I felt much better already out here.

Max followed behind me at a less conspicuous pace, and he frowned disapprovingly again as he caught up. I sighed. It was hard to walk so slowly. I could go so much faster.

The winds swirled joyously, happy to see me at last. I was bombarded with pictures of the gathering clouds, and I smelled the rain that they carried like clouds of tangible scent. The wind blew around me, showing me what it saw, what it had felt. I frowned in concentration, trying not to be overwhelmed.

"Cassie," Max murmured as we crossed the lawn to the cafeteria, "you have to walk slower. They'll see you…" his wary eyes flashed around us, subtly indicating the humans.

"I don't care. I'm sick of them," I said as quietly as possible. "I can't handle much more of this." I gestured towards the dark clouds. He nodded.

"Do you want to leave now? I can cover for you. They'll notice you're gone, but it's worth it."

I considered it. Leaving early would only draw more attention to me. And attention was dangerous. Though I desperately wished I could go now, I knew it wasn't advisable.

"No, I think I can make it until last bell," I told him. "But we have to get out of here quickly. How's Addy?" Addy was my sister, Max's girlfriend. I tried to ignore that out of habit. It wasn't something I liked to dwell on. He shook his head.

"Not much better than you, I'm afraid. It's going to be a long day." His eyes were bleak, and I sighed. Max wasn't exactly the cheery type, but even he seemed depressed today.

"Got any jokes?" I asked, half sarcastic. Max wasn't known for his humor. But I was getting desperate. "I need a distraction." But he didn't reply; he looked up through the crowd and made a face.

I sighed as I spotted Leo weaving towards us. He looked like he needed to talk about something. Max retreated a few steps behind me, out of courtesy, even though I knew he could still hear. I put my hands behind my back and stretched luxuriantly, hearing the aching groan of muscles that were used far too little for my liking. Leo arrived by my side, his jeans ripped at the knees and his light blond hair in a wild mess. If seen from a distance, he sort of reminded me of Max, but they weren't at all similar otherwise.

I liked Max (usually) and I did not care at all for Leo Lee. He was not one of the people I naturally got along with. He was one of the people whose names I had to struggle not to put an expletive in front of.

He was funny in a wry way, mostly because I was laughing at him. We were sort of becoming friends after all this time, but he could be absolutely infuriating. He had professed his undying love for me more times than I could count (which led me to believe it wasn't so very genuine, just a general acknowledgement of my attractiveness) and though I'd turned him down as kindly as I could each time, he never seemed to get the message. I'd taken increasingly harsh measures to get him off my back, and it had gotten to the point where our conversation was straight insults, one-sided. But I'd try to be civil this time, all the same. I had the sad feeling that we could've been friends for real if he would just forget his obsessive crush on me. It didn't help either of us.

"Hey, Cassie. You look good today," he said easily, winking in a way that made the rest of the girls here weak in the knees. I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

"When I'm looking for a compliment I'll let you know," I shot back, not at all grateful for the stares we were getting. I started walking faster. He kept pace with me.

"You really are the Ice Queen," he laughed, and I stiffened in outrage. "Pretty on the outside, but your heart is like a rock."

"If that's what you think then you shouldn't be so surprised that I won't have anything to do with you," I muttered, grinding my teeth. He shrugged.

"I didn't say it was me who thought it," he responded. "Myself, I think you have potential." The way his eyes skimmed over me left no room for doubt. "You know, you should sit with us, at the royal table." He mistook my look of blank aggravation as apprehension. In fact I was stifling murderous thoughts of wringing his neck. "It'll be fun, I promise. You could even bring your bodyguard." He gestured at Max, who smiled dangerously as he followed us like a grim ghost. Leo backed up a little.

"He doesn't like you. Neither do I. My patience is wearing thin," I said tiredly, and he laughed. I flinched as his shoulder knocked into mine. It was calculated. We both knew that. I turned on him angrily, not in the mood to be trifled with. "For the last time, I'm never going to join your little clique. It's so juvenile that you need to sit together. It's like you're scared without a pack to back you up," I snapped, thinking of his gang of sorts. A mixed bunch of girls and boys, all with the same generic good looks, they occupied the prime table in the cafeteria, crowding together. They called themselves royalty, and indeed that was what they were to this place. He looked taken aback, but then shrugged it off.

"Oh, the Ice Queen has no need for a pack," he said airily, looking down his nose at me. "You travel alone, I get it. But everyone needs someone, right?" he demanded, and I blushed with rage. "Come on. You like me," he grinned. I scowled and kept walking.

"In your dreams, slacker surfer boy."

"You want to come hear my band? We're playing tonight," he said casually. I paused. Pushy. He wouldn't take no for an answer.

"Your band–what are they called again?" I asked, like I could possibly forget when it was practically all he talked about. Leo and his band. I bet they weren't as good as they made themselves out to be. I refused to believe that someone like him could ever compose meaningful music, that it would be all fluff and shrieking, something to offend my ears. I wanted to see how they played without all the hype and hysterical girls.

"Scream Machine," he said. "You'll come, right?" I didn't like his overt confidence, the way he could just assume things. It really made me want to take him down a notch, just to wipe that smug smile off his face.

"No, I feel no need to hear that horrible white noise you call singing," I said in a bored tone, staring straight ahead. He looked hurt; Max snorted from fifteen feet away.

"You think you can do better?" Leo asked, and I nodded without hesitation. That was part of the whole trade for mortality. "Bring it on, Red."

"I can," I said calmly, trying my hardest not to laugh at how well I could show him. "And I'm not going anywhere with you." Leo was very cavalier. I knew girls were falling over to go out with him, and he had a disgustingly busy social life, but for some ridiculous reason he'd set his sights on me when I was clearly not interested. His logic was flawed on so many levels. Ah well, at least he had some eager freshman to keep him occupied.

I felt the first throbbing of a headache. The pressure was weighing on me, and all this aggravation wasn't helping. We reached the drab cement building that housed our cafeteria.

"You will," he said confidently, and pushed through the double doors ahead of us.

"Ever heard of ladies first?" I muttered at his retreating back.

Max growled quietly, and I looked at him in surprise. Usually I was the one with the temper, and he was the cool-headed one. But it didn't seem to be the case here. We passed by the food line without a backward glance. Our kind didn't need to eat, and human food wasn't appetizing to us.

"I hate him," he murmured as we walked towards our customary table, far off in the corner, separate from the rest. It was right by the windows.

"Yeah, he can be pretty awful sometimes," I agreed. "He reminds me of Alex." Max laughed, nodding.

Adelaide was already waiting for us. I watched her fingers tap impatiently on the table. It had been a long time since she had burned, and I could see it weighed on her almost as badly as my gift. That was her talent, lighting things on fire. I thought it matched her perfectly–she was every inch as hot-tempered as me, full of energy and funny and impatient.

"Hey, Max, Cassie," she grinned, standing up and leaning across the table so she could kiss Max.

I felt vaguely uncomfortable about that. It was awkward enough that Yvonne had ordered me to be their chaperone of sorts, to keep them from doing anything crazy, but I hated telling them to get off each other. I sat down tiredly, cradling my now aching head.

"Hey," I said quietly, leaning against the back of my chair and closing my eyes. I dropped my heavy bag on the floor, wincing as it made a loud thump. It lay next to Addy's bright purple patent leather book bag.

She was wearing a dark orange dress with far too much leather fringe that was not at all school appropriate, a belted gray trench coat, red patent leather pumps with slim silver heels. Her inky black bob was tousled around her face, and she wore dark purple lipstick that was a little bit frightening. I noticed Max was now sporting the same color; it must have rubbed off on him. It wasn't his shade at all. I'd have to warn him about that.

They talked in whispers, heads together, sensing that I wanted to be left out of the conversation. I focused on the welcome silence that the thick cafeteria walls provided. They kept the voice of the wind out. But every time someone would open the door, gusts of cold air blew in, bothering me with their chatter. I tried to concentrate on the low hum of conversation. They kept their voices considerately quiet, but I still overheard most of what they were saying. I had good ears.

"…and your class?" Max was asking in an undertone. She shrugged, probably making a face. I could just hear the soft rustle of fabric.

"That damn Leo kept asking about her," she muttered back, and I knew who she was talking about. So he'd asked after me…that was interesting. Unwelcome, but interesting. I mulled that over for a moment. He wanted me to join the royal table. He wanted me to see his band. And he put far more effort into bothering me than any of the other girls, more than was usual for him. Maybe there was more to his claims than I'd thought. I'd have to devote some time to figuring out a way to make him see the light. But I didn't have the patience or the energy for scheming now.

I looked over to Leo's table instead. He was on duty as king here, and there was something about him that was undeniably regal. I suddenly remembered he was class president, and I knew why. There was a funny aura about him.

He was eating with his customary entourage, a pretty girl with light brown hair called Camilla; his brother Robert, dark-haired with glasses, brainy; Robert's girlfriend Audrey, shy and pale with hair that was almost black; her best friend Jade; Rose Ryan, who had long golden hair and a stuck-up nose; a quiet boy called Gabriel who needed a haircut. They were all laughing, and for a moment I desperately wished I could be sitting there, included and respected, a queen among her subjects. I had an open invitation to become exactly like Leo, adored by everyone. Instead I was small-timing it over here with the two resident lovebirds, who knew me far too well to show the smallest shred of reverence. Yep, the popular table was looking pretty good right about now. But if Leo was drooling over me already, I'd only make things worse by giving in. He'd never leave me alone if I gave him even the littlest satisfaction. I didn't budge. But I did listen to what they were saying.

"She totally wants me," Leo was laughing. I caught him looking at me and grimaced. He waved cheerily in reply. My scowl deepened.

"She doesn't seem like it. And Cassie Cumming's not exactly the type to hold it in. Don't you think if she felt anything, she'd have let you know before?" Audrey offered. Mmm, I liked that girl. I'd have to remember that. She was unusually kind, by human standards, not so quick to stab me in the back as the other girls. But I saw the way Robert looked at her, and I knew that she wasn't jealous of my lot like the rest. I envied her that quiet life that was forever closed to me.

I stopped listening; I didn't really want to hear Leo's reply.

"Leaving tonight for the clearing…must be getting bad for you." That was Max's voice, much lower than Addy's. She murmured assent and he laughed quietly.

"It's hard not to set Leo on fire…pain in the you-know-what…see the new guy, Nathaniel. Cute, huh? Seems nice enough," she said. I cracked open one eye.

I was curious, and understandably so. We didn't get many new students here. Who would possibly want to come to this place? Max nodded, searching through the crowd in the cafeteria, looking for the new face amongst the herd. I watched him carefully.

"I see him," he murmured, subtly shifting his eyes to the newcomer, then to me. I refused to give him the satisfaction of making me look. It was childish, but I was in a bad mood after this morning.

I wondered internally what the kid would look like. Nathaniel. What a strange name, outdated, unpopular. A name like mine. It had gone out of style long ago. Who had a name like that in a time like this?

"Cassie, look." Addy poked me. I sighed in exasperation and turned my head to stare across the crowded room, catching the eyes of the new boy.

He wore his dark brown hair cut in a careless mop, glossy fringe framing his pale white face. Two large, liquid dark eyes stared out at me. I stared back. I watched his round eyes widen further in surprise as he took me in, and frowned.

He was thinking what all the others thought, what I could see in Leo's face every time he looked at me. I knew I was beautiful to them. My heavy head of dark red hair was a rare color in humans; my sea blue eyes, my flawless snow-colored skin. I didn't pay much attention to what I looked like. At home I was just normal. My face meant nothing. Here, it made me an object of curiosity. I stood out against the flocks of plain girls and silly boys. Most people here were nothing special to look at. But he was something else.

I hated myself for thinking that he looked pretty. It wasn't that he was unappealing, but he just looked so human. There was something horribly delicate about him, all see-through skin and visible bones. I knew with a lazy flick of my wrists I could kill him, snap his fragile neck. And I knew that somewhere deep inside, he must've been aware of it. Humans were undoubtedly afraid of us, even though they didn't know the truth. Something about us told them we were dangerous. And in this case their instincts were absolutely right. Yet he was still staring at me in utter fascination, mouth open in almost comic awe.

He looked tired, by the dark purple circles under his eyes. I couldn't help but notice the depth, the warmth to his lovely eyes, the smooth pale surface of his skin, the glossy black-brown of his hair. He almost looked like one of us, too good to be true, not quite human. But I knew he was without a doubt. I heard his heart beat from the other side of the room. An easy flash of emotions across his face provided a stream of consciousness that was simplicity itself to read. First, there was surprise, then wonder, and now intense interest. I looked at him the same way, unable to stop myself. I was sure I had the same wide eyes. He was like nothing I'd ever seen. I took in all of him, everything about him.

He was uncomfortable here, I could tell. His tall frame was slumped slightly, his shoulders hunched. A pair of black sunglasses sat perched upon his messy hair. He had pushed up the sleeves of his battered black leather jacket, and I could see his arms crossed defensively over his chest.

He was surrounded by a crowd of eager girls, fawning over him and asking him questions. I knew they saw in him what they saw in me, the same instinctive beauty, good looks and tired confidence. They were bothering him, I saw as I watched. The quick flash of discomfort across his open face as his eyes shifted briefly to them was enough to tell me. But he wasn't paying them any attention. It was me he was looking at so insistently. He smiled ruefully, giving me a slight shrug as if to say what can I do? There was a cautious friendliness to it.

His very presence should be abhorrent to me. But there was something intriguing about this pale stranger. He was an outsider, even to me, the outcast. His clever dark eyes made me smile. He had the look of one who knew far too much.

He tore his gaze away, turning to talk with the slim, sandy-haired girl I recognized as Camilla, and the spell was broken. She was twirling her hair around one finger, charmed and a little nervous, and he was nodding along. Obviously her offer was appealing to him. I noticed he wasn't eating anything. He got up, lugging a faded, button-covered black messenger bag, and followed her to the royal table, where they were waiting.

I hated Leo's perfect smile like it was a personal offense, like he'd beaten me to the chase. This new kid was another one destined to be royalty. Leo could spot star quality when he saw it. And this boy had it, whatever it was.

There was a certain weary grace in the set of his shoulders; he had the air of someone who had lived far too much for their age. I watched the way he shook his shaggy hair out of his eyes. There was definitely something about him, something I couldn't quite place.

Leo was grinning contagiously, but the stranger didn't seem all that enthused; he looked on with vaguely amused detachment as they cleared a space for him, right in the middle. And he took his rightful place as I watched, helpless.

I bit my lip in indecision, my fists clenching. I wanted to join them.

I sighed and let my head sink onto the table, resting on my folded arms. I couldn't. The sheltered darkness provided by my face against the table was unable to make me feel better. The cold, scratched surface didn't do a thing for my habitually frigid skin. The wintry temperature was something all superhumans had in common. The Ice Queen was all too apt a title for me.

My back tensed automatically. I could feel him looking at me again, though I couldn't see his face. I turned my head slowly to the left, towards where he sat. I could see him between the maze of tables and people. Leo was talking to him, but he wasn't really listening. His bold, hypnotic stare was disconcerting. Most people here couldn't bring themselves to look me in the eye. I chewed my bottom lip, speculating. He didn't move an inch, transfixed. A moth before a flame, I told myself. He'll lose interest soon. They all did, when they figured out they had no chance with me. Well, all except Leo. I'd gotten twelve invitations to go to prom with him already. I was still wondering when he would accept that I'd never be anything to him but a distant friend.

The new boy kept looking at me. I could feel it, even when I was facing the other way. It was uncanny how aware of him I was.

From time to time I glanced over at him, just to see if he was still looking, but he never dropped his eyes. Leo had noticed his interest in me. I heard his conspiratorial whisper from fifty feet away.

"The Cassie Cumming? You've got to be kidding me. Don't waste your time, man. She's never going to fall for it."

"What do you mean?" The new boy asked bluntly. His voice was quiet, deep and strangely nice to listen to. I could hear Leo's derisive laugh like fire cutting through the air, lashing out at me.

"We don't call her 'the Ice Queen' for nothing. She doesn't date. No one here's good enough for someone like her, apparently." I felt a surge of intense dislike and my fingers curled tightly around the edge of the table. Leo was just bitter because I'd turned him down repeatedly.

I snuck just one last glance at the new boy. He was staring at me, his expression not at all changed. He didn't believe what they'd fed him, then. Good. Most of it was lies, anyway. But that last accusation stung. He smiled at me. There was no pity or resentment in his eyes, just the same vital interest.

I made a conscious effort to drag my eyes away from their table, turning instead to Max and Addy. I had to work hard to keep my expression remote, indifferent.

"…Alex and Yvonne," Max laughed, delivering the punchline. Addy giggled with a sound like the chiming of bells. I opened my eyes again and watched them. Her eyes flickered towards the other table and she smiled impishly.

"Looks like you've got another admirer, Cass…not bad at all, is he?" she asked me, and I smiled in reply. "He looks like a rock star. Wait, he's looking at you. Don't turn around."

I ignored her and turned back to him, annoyed. He gave me a ghostly smile, foiled, before he got up and headed for the door. I watched him turn up the collar on his jacket as the first blast of air hit him. He winked at me before he put his sunglasses on and left. Addy squeaked.

"Did you see that?"

I nodded numbly. Inexplicable.

"I have to go. Now," I said urgently. Leo was shamelessly making eyes at me from across the room now that the new boy was safely out of view. Camilla looked hurt. Max watched me with his dark blue eyes concerned, but Adelaide simply nodded, a silly grin plastered across her face.

"Go," she told me, patting me on the shoulder. I was off before she could finish, winding my way through the tables a little too fast.

I burst out the door and felt the chill air like a slap on my face. I was shivering even though I wasn't cold.

I couldn't stop thinking of what had just happened. I didn't want to like him. I wanted to hate him just like all the others. Another shiver ran through me when I thought of how everyone's face was always turned my way. I hated them for taking away my privacy, for refusing to let me blend in with the rest. But I couldn't bring myself to hate the new boy who couldn't take his eyes off me. I just couldn't.

In this town, my face was a curse. People couldn't stop staring. It was embarrassing. The girls despised me because I was the object of every boy's affection, and the boys followed me like so many abject sheep. Everyone knew who I was. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to hold in a little of the heat, but it was no good.

I didn't stop to think; I just let my breaths slow as I walked without knowing where I was going. I didn't see anything around me. I spent the rest of my lunch hour trying to breathe. And the new boy wasn't helping at all. My cheeks felt hot every time I thought of his weary brown eyes. Every time I thought of him, the anxiety came back, like my thoughts were spinning in a circle.

He was far too interested in me. No one else was this absorbed. And I couldn't let him ever see anything more in me than this. The way his eyes looked, seeing through everything, made me cold. I'd have to find ways to avoid him, to stay outside during lunch, to make sure our paths never crossed. After a time, he'd get the message. They all did. I was a practiced expert at the art of avoiding love-struck boys. The entire male student population had a thing for me, after all. I had learned to accept it as inevitable–the love letters slipped into my locker, the awkward conversations I had to endure, the graffiti on my car. I was the one they all wanted, and they were the last thing I wanted. And the attention was even worse because of the gossip it caused, the rumors which I really didn't need. Word spread quickly in a school this small.

I finally came to the Science building, where my next class, AP Chemistry, was. I went to my empty classroom out of habit and sat on the desk, waiting until lunch period was up and the bell rang. I dug a book of Latin poetry out of the bottom of my bag and busied myself with epigrams.

I didn't move as the first few students filed in, engrossed in the thick tome. I was the only one who had a table all to myself. Ms. Lawrence had realized soon after school began that I was more knowledgeable than she was, and gave me challenge problems that would have stumped college seniors. I sat through the interminable classes with all the Punnet squares and chemical equations I liked, solving them all without thinking. It was a refuge from the rest of the day. The poor professor knew better than to check my answers; she just gave me a sympathetic smile, knowing how bored I was. She liked me, this one. And I was just a little bit fond of her, though I knew better than to get attached. She seemed kind enough compared to most humans. I smiled at her as she passed me a thick packet of genetics problems. I liked how neatly each problem resolved itself into the one correct solution. That wasn't the way life worked, but it was comforting to be able to know some things.

She was just getting ready to start class when someone rushed in. My eyes were staring down at a particularly complex problem that involved a ten-generation pedigree and three codominant traits, but I felt the rush of cool air from the door opening. It blew the hair out of my face, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt. I looked up, surprised.

It was the new boy.

He stared right at me with those wide, dark eyes, and I stared back. I couldn't help myself. The room swam in front of my eyes, swirling dizzily into an abstract of colors.

I watched him walk over to the professor, his calm, confident steps making no noise against the floor. His back was turned to me. I could barely hear his low, soft voice across the room. It was surprisingly warm and innocent at close range, kinder than I'd expected. I realized I'd booked him for the world-weary, seen-it-all type. Apparently I'd been wrong.

Ms. Lawrence smiled at him, more than a little awed, and steered him to the seat to my right. I should've realized mine was the only free table. He didn't seem distressed by the seating assignment–quite the opposite, or so it seemed. He slumped beside me, a slight smile lightening his face. I looked at him, and he looked back with the same amused glance of shared suffering.

I took out a blank sheet of paper, twirling my pencil like a baton, and class began. He watched me warily now, though a trace of awe still lingered on his face. A deer caught in the headlights of a car. It wasn't that he didn't want to look away, it was that he couldn't. I pitied him for that, but at the same time I knew it was his choice.

I hadn't realized how tall he was; he towered over me like I was a child. It just figured that things would've worked out like this. He looked down at me, frowning, and then turned back to his paper. I sighed silently. This day was getting weird.

What was I going to do? I didn't know. My thoughts swirled around in dizzy circles, scattered and disjointed. I shifted my hair over my shoulder so it made a thick dark red curtain between us, pooling over onto the black top of the table. I could just tell he was staring at it.

I sat perfectly still, eyes closed, trying not to move. This, of course, was impossible. I was far too curious to just sit there and pretend nothing was different.

I glanced over at him from time to time, eyes hidden behind the convenient spread of my hair, only to find he was already staring at me. Each time he caught me looking at him my cheeks turned bright from embarrassment. But I kept peeking to see what his face was like up close.

He had such pretty skin, perfect pale ivory, with just the faintest hint of pink. His dark eyes were the same color as chocolate. A fading bruise touched his forehead with a hint of purple, and I caught the faint traces of a black eye, almost hidden under his hair.

I amused myself for a time with wondering what he had done. Gotten in a fight, maybe, or just an accident. I sort of wanted to ask him what happened, to see if he would tell me the truth or invent something funny.

He was so different; a strange new creature in this little school. He seemed oddly exotic compared to the rest of the ordinary humans that surrounded us. I could tell he wasn't from anywhere near here.

He possessed a funny kind of fumbling grace, the way he held his shoulders, the way he scribbled untidily on his notebook, clearly bored. He was gazing longingly out the window, resting his chin on his hand. He seemed as bored as I usually was–I took that to mean he had taken this class at his old school, or he already knew the material. I wondered if I'd be getting a partner to do challenge problems with. I watched, transfixed, as he stifled a yawn with his hand. His dark eyes were ringed with pale purple circles, as well as the right sporting the darker bruises of a fading punch. He probably hadn't slept much last night, terrified of the thought of a new school. He seemed to dislike attention, but when I'd seen him with Leo, he seemed at ease, comfortable. It didn't add up.

Ms. Lawrence passed by our desk, moving on to the rest of the class, but with a slight wave of his hand he beckoned her over.

"Yes, Nathaniel?" she said, bemused. He smiled at her and I watched her face change, becoming much more kindly.

"I took this class in freshman year, Ms. Lawrence. I can show you my test scores if you want them. Do you have anything else I can do?" he asked. I watched her face take on a look of shock.

"Of course I have something, if you want it. How about some challenge problems?" He nodded, and she moved off.

I tried to hide my surprise. I didn't want to think about the odds of meeting someone who was as intelligent as me. The professor brought back a thick packet for him, and he pulled out a pen, grinning. I stared at him half the time, his dark head bent over the sheets.

I had no idea why I was so absorbed with him.

"Hi. I'm Cassie," I whispered. He stared at me, surprise lightening his eyes. I tried to smile convincingly. It came easier than I'd thought it would. He smiled back. I could feel myself turning red.

"Nate," he said quietly. That seemed to suit him much better. Long names were all too easily shortened. He looked amused, a little dazzled. I had that effect on people. But I couldn't help the genuine beaming smile. It felt good that at last I had something to smile about.

"Are you enjoying your first day?" I said quickly, before he could ask me anything. I generally tried to discourage questions about me. I kept aloof. This was the only strategy, the only defense I had. If no one knew anything about me, I was safe. So I didn't like personal questions. But more importantly, I was actually interested in what he was going to say.

He rolled his eyes meaningfully; and I grinned in mixed sympathy and satisfaction. I had been right about him.

I couldn't say any more, though I was longing to, because Ms. Lawrence was at the board, scrawling thick notes in illegible orange expo marker. This was usually one of my favorite classes, but today her voice grated on my nerves. I wiggled impatiently, tapping my fingers on the desk with lightning speed. How slowly she spoke, drawing each letter out into a torturously long monosyllable. I wanted to talk some more. That in itself was strange–I didn't usually enjoy the social life of humans, in fact I dreaded talking to them, though they were sometimes amusing.

Questions were bubbling up within me, each more pressing than the next. I couldn't hold them in for long. I decided to risk it, hoping no one was paying attention.

"Why the black eye?" I demanded. He smiled a little wider, then winced, and I realized his bottom lip was split as well.

"Got in a fight," he whispered back.I had to smile again at that.

"Over a girl?" I asked. He laughed. It was a low, warm chuckle.

"No…" he frowned. "Something else." His eyes lightened slightly, grinning despite the pain. "I saw you at lunch today." I rolled my eyes at him.

"I noticed," I said dryly. His eyes turned careful, wary but also humorous. He reached up to push his hair out of the way.

"You looked depressed. Don't go throwing yourself off a cliff or anything." He stared at me seriously, straight-faced.

"I was just bored," I responded, equally grave. He looked past me, out the windows, pursing his full lips.

"Yeah, well, it's pretty boring around here."

I hit the table, pleased. His eyes snapped back to me.

"Finally, someone who understands," I laughed. "Everyone else was born here; they love it. But you're not from California, are you?" I knew I was looking at him too much. But I couldn't help but stare back.

"Nope. I was born in The City." I knew then from the way he said it, as if it were the only city in the world, that it must be New York.

"Lucky." I scowled. "I'm stuck here until I graduate." He shot me an appraising look, carefully moving over my face.

"You don't seem like you've always lived here, either." He frowned absently. "Where are you from?"

"You mean originally?" I raised my eyebrows, and he nodded. "I'm half English, half American. But I lived in France for ten years, so I'm also from there." His frown deepened.

"Confusing," he admitted, and we both grinned. I liked how blunt he was. "You speak French, then?"

"Yes," I murmured, and his eyes lit up.

"Me too. I'm sort of a language freak, where I come from."

"Well, you have to be good at something, right? At least it's something useful." All I could do was destroy stuff, and wish I wasn't stuck in this place. He made a sarcastic face.

"Yeah, I'm planning on being an interpreter when I grow up. It's my dream." The irony was thick.

"Well, it's better than what the people around here aspire to be," I said defensively. "You should hear them–they want to be movie stars or bankers, Miss America…stuff like that. They're not really so in tune with reality."

"What do you want to be?" he gave me a funny look, burning dark eyes serious.

"I'm torn between a CIA agent and a mechanic," I said lightly. He chuckled.

"Both worthy ambitions, definitely," he agreed.

I turned back to the packet long enough to solve another problem; the class was doing an experiment now, chattering loudly enough to cover our conversation. He looked up at me through his dark eyelashes.

"But seriously, what job do you want?" I asked.

"Oh, that's easy," he said dismissively. "I'm going to be a rock star superhero millionaire."

I laughed hard. The clouds above our heads stirred in response, and I frowned, gazing out the window. He put his elbow on the table and leaned his head against his hand, scrutinizing me.

"What's wrong?"

"It's going to rain." I sighed, missing the sun. It would have given me an excuse to skip class, but at the same time I didn't want to leave him. He scrunched up his face, looking annoyed.

"Does it always rain here?" I watched the perfect play of expression on his face, comically clear.

"Pretty much," I smiled.

There was a knock on the door, and I looked up guiltily.

Max was outside. Why was he here?

"Sorry," I whispered, bewildered. "I have to leave now." He nodded, frowning slightly.

"See you tomorrow."

I slid the heavy stack of sheets into my book bag before I went to the teacher's desk.

"Ms. Lawrence? I have a doctor's appointment today, and I'm supposed to leave with my brother now." I made my eyes as wide and innocent as possible, speaking quietly in my most attractive voice. It wasn't hard to get what I wanted. She gave me a motherly smile, looking fondly down at me. I was her star student, after all.

"Of course, dear. Go ahead."

I rounded the corner and folded my arms defensively over my chest, hunched against the constant touch of the wind. Max was waiting, grinning proudly.

"I sprung you, Cass. Let's go home now. Addy wants to play a little Monopoly." I rolled my eyes expressively. Addy's version of board games involved outrageous bending of the rules, drawn-on extra squares, and a running exhibition of insults. But I smiled, even though my thoughts were still back with Nate. The storm was brewing overhead, and the first drops of rain fell onto my hands. The time had come.

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