Fallen 2. Torment(59)

with pies. Do you still like the one with the sweet potatoes? We love you and we think

about you all the time.

Mom

Luce's hand hung frozen on her mouse. It was Tuesday morning. Thanksgiving

was a week and a half away. It was the first time that her favorite holiday had even

crossed her mind. But as quickly as it had come in, Luce tried to banish it. There was no

way Mr. Cole would let her go home for Thanksgiving.

She was about to click Respond when a blinking orange box at the bottom of the

screen caught her attention. Miles was online. He'd been trying to chat with her.

Miles (8:08): Mornin', Miss Luce.

Miles (8:09): I am STARVING. Do you wake up as hungry as I wake up?

Miles (8:15): Wanna get breakfast? I'll swing by your room on my way. 5 min?

Luce looked at her clock. 8:21. There was a booming knock on her door. She was

still in her pajamas. Still had bed head. She opened the door a little.

The morning sun poured onto the hallway's hardwood floors. It reminded Luce of

coming down the always-sunlit wooden staircase at her parents' house for breakfast, the

way the whole world looked brighter through the lens of one hallway filled with light.

Miles wasn't wearing his Dodgers cap today, so it was one of the few times she

could clearly see his eyes. They were really deep blue, a nine-o'clock-in-summer sky

blue. His hair was wet, dripping on the shoulders of his white T-shirt. Luce swallowed,

unable to stop her mind from picturing him in the shower. He grinned at her, showing off

a dimple and his super-white smile. He seemed so California today; Luce was surprised

to realize how good he made it look.

"Hey." Luce wedged as much of her pajamaed body as she could behind the door.

"I just saw your messages. I'm in for breakfast, but I'm not dressed yet."

"I can wait." Miles leaned against the hallway wall. His stomach growled loudly.

He tried to cross his arms over his waist to cover the sound.

"I'll hurry." Luce laughed, closing the door. She stood before her closet, trying not

to think about Thanksgiving or her parents or Callie or why so many important people

were slipping away from her at once.

She yanked a long gray sweater from her dresser and threw it on over a pair of

black jeans. She brushed her teeth, put on big silver hoop earrings and a squirt of hand

lotion, grabbed her bag, and studied herself in the mirror.

She didn't look like a girl who was stuck in some bickering power struggle of a

relationship, or a girl who couldn't go home to her family for Thanksgiving. At the

moment, she just looked like a girl who was excited to open a door and find a guy there

who made her feel normal and happy and really sort of all-around wonderful.

A guy who was not her boyfriend.

She sighed, opening the door to Miles. His face lit up.

When they got outside, Luce realized the weather had changed. The sunlit

morning air was just as brisk as it had been on the roof's ledge last night with Daniel. And

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it had felt icy then.

Miles held out his enormous khaki jacket to her, but she waved it away. "I just

need some coffee to warm me up."

They sat at the same table where they had sat the week before. Immediately, a

couple of student waiters rushed over. Both guys seemed to be friends with Miles and had

an easy joking manner. Luce certainly never got this level of service when she sat with

Shelby. While the guys fired away with questions--how had Miles's fantasy football team

done the night before, had he watched that YouTube clip of the guy pranking his

girlfriend, did he have plans after class today--Luce looked around the terrace for her

roommate but couldn't find her.

Miles answered all the guys' questions but seemed uninterested in extending the

conversation any further. He pointed at Luce. "This is Luce. She wants a big cup of your

hottest coffee and ..."

"The scrambled eggs," Luce said, folding up the small menu that the Shoreline

mess hall printed up each day.

"Same for me, guys, thanks." Miles handed back the two menus and turned fullfocus on Luce. "Seems like I haven't seen you around much recently outside class. How

are things?"

Miles's question surprised her. Maybe because she was already feeling like a guilt

magnet this morning. She liked that there was no "Where have you been hiding?" or "Are

you avoiding me?" tacked on at the end. Just a question: "How are things?"

She beamed at him, then somehow lost track of her smile and was almost wincing

by the time she said, "Things are okay."

"Uh-oh."

Horrible fight with Daniel. Lying to my parents. Losing my best friend. Part of her

wanted to unleash all of that on Miles, but she knew she shouldn't. Couldn't. That would

be taking their friendship to a level she wasn't sure was a good idea. She'd never had a