the lawn. Luce knew from rich kids at Dover, but East Coast rich kids were pinched and
snotty, not sun-kissed and carefree. The whole scene looked more like the first day of
summer than a Tuesday in early November. It was all so pleasant, it was almost hard to
begrudge the self-satisfied looks on these kids' faces. Almost.
Luce tried to imagine Arriane here, what she would think of Shelby or this
oceanside dining, how she probably wouldn't know what to make fun of first. Luce
wished she could turn to Arriane now. It would be good to be able to laugh.
Looking around, she accidentally caught the eyes of a couple of students. A pretty
girl with olive skin, a polka-dot dress, and a green scarf tied in her glossy black hair. A
sandy-haired guy with broad shoulders tackling an enormous stack of pancakes.
Luce's instinct was to turn her head away as soon as she made eye contact--always
the safest bet at Sword & Cross. But ... neither one of these kids glared at her. The
biggest surprise about Shoreline was not the crystal sunshine or the cushy breakfast
terrace or the buckets-of-money aura hovering over everyone. It was that the students
here were smiling.
Well, most of them were smiling. When Shelby and Luce reached an unoccupied
table, Shelby picked up a small placard and flung it to the ground. Luce leaned sideways
to see the word RESERVED written on it just as a kid their age in a full-on black-tie
waiter suit approached them with a silver tray.
"Um, this table is re--" he began to say, his voice cracking inopportunely.
"Coffee, black," Shelby said, then abruptly asked Luce, "What do you want?"
"Uh, same," Luce said, uncomfortable at being waited on. "Maybe a little milk."
"Scholarship kids. Gotta slave to get by." Shelby rolled her eyes at Luce as the
waiter darted away to get their coffees. She picked up the San Francisco Chronicle from
the middle of the table and unfolded the front page with a yawn.
It was right around then that Luce had had enough.
"Hey." She shoved Shelby's arm down so she could see her face behind the paper.
Shelby's heavy eyebrows rose in surprise. "I used to be a scholarship kid," Luce told her.
"Not at my last school, but the school before that--"
Shelby shrugged off Luce's hand. "Should I be impressed by that part of your
resume, too?"
Luce was just about to ask what it was Shelby had heard about her when she felt a
warm hand on her shoulder.
Francesca, the teacher who'd met Luce at the door last night, was smiling down at
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her. She was tall, with an imperious bearing, and was put together with a style that came
across as effortless. Francesca's soft blond hair was cleanly flipped to one side. Her lips
were glossy pink. She wore a cool fitted black sheath dress with a blue belt and matching
peep-toe stilettos. It was the kind of outfit that would make anyone feel dowdy by
comparison. Luce wished she'd at least put on mascara. And maybe not worn her mudcrusted Converses.
"Oh, good, you two connected." Francesca smiled. "I knew you'd become fast
friends!"
Shelby was silent but rustled her paper. Luce just cleared her throat.
"I think you'll find Shoreline a very simple adjustment, Luce. It's designed that
way. Most of our gifted students just ease right in." Gifted? "Of course, you can come to
me with any questions. Or just lean on Shelby."
For the first time all morning, Shelby laughed. Her laugh was a gruff, gravelly
thing, the kind of chortle Luce would have expected from an old man, a lifetime smoker,
not a teenage yoga enthusiast.
Luce could feel her face pinching up into a scowl. The last thing she wanted was
to "ease right in" to Shoreline. She didn't belong with a lot of spoiled gifted kids on a cliff
overlooking the ocean. She belonged with real people, people with soul instead of squash
rackets, who knew what life was like. She belonged with Daniel. She still had no idea
what she was doing here, other than hiding out very temporarily while Daniel took care of
his ... war. After that, he was going to take her back home. Or something.
"Well, I'll see you both in class. Enjoy breakfast!" Francesca called over her
shoulder as she glided away. "Try the quiche!" She waved her hand, signaling to the
waiter to bring each girl a plate.
When she was gone, Shelby took a big slurp of her coffee and wiped her mouth
with the back of her hand.
"Um, Shelby--"
"Ever heard of eating in peace?"
Luce banged her coffee cup back into its saucer and waited impatiently for the
nervous waiter to put down their quiches and disappear again. Part of her wanted to find
another table. There were happy buzzes of conversation going on all around her. And if