really close guy friend before, the kind of friend you shared everything with and relied on
like a girlfriend. Wouldn't things get ... complicated?
"Miles," she finally said, "what do people do around here for Thanksgiving?"
"I don't know. I guess I've never stuck around to find out. I wish I could
sometimes. Thanksgiving at my house is obnoxiously enormous. At least a hundred
people. Like ten courses. And it's black-tie."
"You're joking."
He shook his head. "I wish I were. Seriously. We have to hire parking attendants."
After a pause: "Why do you ask--wait, do you need a place to go?"
"Uhh ..."
"You're coming." He laughed at her shocked expression. "Please. My brother's not
coming home from college this year and he was my only lifeline. I can show you around
Santa Barbara. We can ditch the turkey and get the world's best tacos at Super Rica." He
raised an eyebrow. "It'll be so much less torturous to have you there with me. It might
even be fun."
While Luce was mulling over his offer, she felt a hand on her back. She knew the
touch by now--soothing to the point of having healing powers--Francesca's.
"I spoke to Daniel last night," Francesca said.
Luce tried not to react as Francesca leaned down. Had Daniel gone to see her after
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Luce had shut him out? The idea made her jealous, though she didn't really know why.
"He's worried about you." Francesca paused, seeming to search Luce's face. "I
told him you're doing very well, considering your new surroundings. I told him I would
make myself available to you for anything you need. Please understand that you should
come to me with your questions." A sharpness entered her gaze, a hard, fierce quality.
Come to me instead of Steven seemed to lie there, unspoken.
And then Francesca left, as quickly as she'd appeared, the silk lining of her white
wool coat swishing against her black pantyhose.
"So ... Thanksgiving," Miles finally said, rubbing his hands together.
"Okay, okay." Luce swallowed the rest of her coffee. "I'll think about it."
Shelby didn't show at the Nephilim lodge for that morning's class--a lecture on
summoning angelic forebears, kind of like sending a celestial voice mail. By lunchtime,
Luce was starting to get nervous. But heading into her math class, she finally spotted the
familiar puffy red vest and practically sprinted toward it.
"Hey!" She tugged her roommate's thick blond ponytail. "Where've you been?"
Shelby turned around slowly. The look on her face took Luce back to her very
first day at Shoreline. Shelby's nostrils were flared and her eyebrows were hunched
forward.
"Are you okay?" Luce asked.
"Fine." Shelby turned away and started fiddling with the nearest locker, twirling a
combination, then popping it open. Inside were a football helmet and about a case worth
of empty Gatorade bottles. A poster of the Laker Girls was slapped on the inside of the
door.
"Is that even your locker?" Luce asked. She didn't know a single Nephilim kid
who used a locker, but Shelby was rooting through this one, tossing dirty sweat socks
recklessly over her shoulder.
Shelby slammed the locker shut, then moved on to twirl the combination of the
next one. "Now you're judging me?"
"No." Luce shook her head. "Shel, what is going on? You disappeared this
morning, you missed class--"
"I'm here now, aren't I?" Shelby sighed. "Frankie and Steven are a lot more lax
about letting a girl take a personal day than the humanoids over here."
"Why do you need a personal day? You were fine last night, until--"
Until Daniel showed up.
Right around the time Daniel appeared at the window, Shelby had gone all pale
and quiet and straight to bed and-While Shelby stared at Luce as if her IQ had suddenly dropped by half, Luce
became aware of the rest of the hall. Where the rust-colored lockers ended, the graycarpeted walls were lined with girls: Dawn and Jasmine and Lilith. Preppy, cardiganed
girls like Amy Branshaw from Luce's afternoon classes. Punky pierced girls who looked
kind of like Arriane but were way less fun to talk to. A few girls Luce had never seen
before. Girls with books clutched against their chests, gum popping in their mouths, and
eyes darting at the carpet, at the wood-beamed ceiling, at each other. Anywhere but
directly at Luce and Shelby. Though it was clear that all of them were eavesdropping.
A sick feeling in her stomach was starting to tell her why. It was the biggest
collision of Nephilim and non-Nephilim Luce had seen so far at Shoreline. And every girl
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in this hallway had figured out before her: