Eli POV

Auburn curls, fair, fair skin… I stared, completely entranced, at the concentrated figure in front of me.

"5w + 6 4w -2.5 + (-4w). What's with this easiness?" I heard her mutter under her breath. Clare Edwards: ever the model student. Before I knew what I was doing, there were doodles of a curly-headed, fair-skinned girl dominating my math homework.

I clutched my pencil harder, willing myself to think of Julia. Julia's limp body. She wasn't happy right now, of course not. Why should she be when her murderer was alive, not only free of charges, but ogling new girls as well? I let out a shuddery breath. In front of me, Clare stopped moving. I couldn't stay here another second… not without reaching out to touch that beautiful neck.

I bolted up, knocking over my chair with a clatter.

"Would somebody please turn off that annoying heater? I can't—freaking—concentrate!" I screamed at the top of my lungs, causing thirty-six heads to shoot up and stare.

Adam Torres, best friend extraordinaire and tact genius, stood up immediately.

"Eli, I told you not to come to school while you're still sick! It's making you act stupid!" he cried, knowing perfectly well that I had not been sick for months.

I gritted my teeth. "Sorry." It was all I could manage to say.

"Eli, would you please pack up your stuff? Adam will escort you to the nurse's office. You can serve your detention tomorrow," replied Mrs. Dawes, flicking her pen back and forth worriedly.

"Thanks, Mrs. Dawes. I'll see you tomorrow." I stuffed my binder under my arm, ignoring the furtive glances that Clare was shooting me.

"Let's go, Eli," said Adam, ushering me out of the classroom hurriedly. Once we were out of earshot, he whispered at me. "Are you going to tell me what's going on or just leave me in the dark?"

I glared at him for a moment, then softened. I stopped to lean against a locker, only to leap off it again once I realized whose it was: Clare's.

"I like Clare… a lot."

"Yeah. And…?"

"I know Julia doesn't."

Now it was Adam's turn to stop. "Julia?" he asked. "Who's she?"

"She is…," I said, choking on the words. "She's my ex-girlfriend. The one I murdered." When Adam didn't interrupt me, I plowed on. "We had a really, really nasty argument. I said… some pretty terrible things. She took off on her bike as fast she could go. She was in an accident. Died on the scene."

He looked at me, thinking what I knew: that wasn't all.

"She's following me, Adam," I whispered hoarsely. "She's angry because she's dead and I'm alive and happy and constantly wanting to grab Clare and kiss her."

"Do you still…" Adam paused, taking a deep breath. "Are you still in love with Julia?"

That question stopped me short. I had honestly never thought about it. I pictured her eyes, her nose, her lips. And my heart lurched. But not with desire—with guilt. Suddenly, Julia's brown eyes and dark skin were replaced by Clare's blue eyes and pale complexion.

"No," I said, for once with confidence. "No, man. It's been over a year."

"Then what's the deal?"

I look at him dead-on, straight in the eye.

"I'm not going to let Clare die by being with me."