Fallen 2. Torment(70)

beyond that, the ocean. There was still a little amber light in the sky over the water. Her

new friends would all be in the lodge making s'mores, telling demon stories around the

hearth. It was a Dawn-and-Jasmine social event, part of the Nephilim Nights Luce was

supposed to have helped organize, but all she'd really done was request a few bags of

marshmallows and some dark chocolate from the mess hall.

And then she'd escaped out to the shadowy fringe of the woods to avoid everyone

at Shoreline and reconnect with a few other important things:

Her parents. Callie. And the Announcers.

She'd waited until tonight to call home. Thursdays chez Price meant her mom

would be out playing mahjongg at the neighbors' and her dad would have gone to the

local movie theater to watch the Atlanta opera on simulcast. She could handle their

voices on the ten-plus-year-old answering machine message, could manage to leave a

thirty-second voice mail saying she was petitioning hard for Mr. Cole to let her off

campus for Thanksgiving--and that she loved them very much.

Callie wasn't going to let her off so easy.

"I thought you could only call on Wednesdays," Callie was saying now. Luce had

forgotten the strict telephone policy at Sword & Cross. "At first I stopped making plans

on Wednesdays, waiting for your call," Callie went on. "But after a while, I kinda gave

up. How did you get a cell phone, anyway?"

"That's it?" Luce asked. "How did I get a cell phone? You're not mad at me?"

Callie let out a long sigh. "You know, I thought about being mad. I even practiced

this whole fight in my mind. But then we both lose." She paused. "And the thing is, I just

miss you, Luce. So I figured, why waste time?"

"Thank you," Luce whispered, close to tears--happy ones. "So, what's been going

on with you?"

"Unh-unh. I'm in charge of this conversation. That's your punishment for

dropping off my radar. And what I want to know is: What's going on with that guy? I

think his name started with a C?"

"Cam." Luce groaned. Cam was the last guy she'd told Callie about? "He didn't

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turn out to be ... the kind of guy I thought he was." She paused for a moment. "I'm seeing

someone else now, and things are really ..." She thought of Daniel's glowing face, the

way it had darkened so quickly during their last meeting outside her window.

Then she thought of Miles. Warm, dependable, charmingly no-drama Miles,

who'd invited her home to his family's house for Thanksgiving. Who ordered pickles on

his hamburgers at the mess hall now even though he didn't like them--just so he could

pick them off and give them to Luce. Who tilted his head up when he laughed so that she

could see the sparkle in his Dodgers-cap-shaded eyes.

"Things are good," she finally said. "We've been hanging out a lot."

"Ooh, bouncing around from one reform school boy to the next. Living the dream,

aren't you? But this one sounds serious, I can hear it in your voice. Are you going to do

Thanksgiving together? Bring him home to face the wrath of Harry? Hah!"

"Um ... yeah, probably," Luce mumbled. She wasn't totally sure whether she'd

been talking about Daniel or Miles.

"My parents are insisting on some big family reunion   in Detroit that weekend,"

Callie said, "which I am boycotting. I wanted to come visit, but I figured you'd be locked

up in reformville." She paused, and Luce could picture her curled up on her bed in her

dorm room at Dover. It seemed like a lifetime ago since Luce had been at school there

herself. So very much had changed. "If you'll be home, though, and bringing reform

school boy, try and stop me."

"Okay, but Callie--"

Luce was interrupted by a squeal. "So it's settled? Imagine: In one week we'll be

curled up on your couch, catching up! I'll make my famous kettle corn to help us through

the boring slide shows your dad will show. And your crazy poodle will be going

berserk. ..."

Luce had never actually been to Callie's brownstone in Philadelphia, and Callie

had never actually been to Luce's house in Georgia. They'd both only seen pictures. A

visit from Callie sounded so perfect, so exactly what Luce needed right now. It also

sounded utterly impossible.

"I'll look up flights right now."

"Callie--"

"I'll email you, okay?" Callie hung up before Luce could even respond.

This was not good. Luce flipped the phone shut. She shouldn't have felt like

Callie was intruding by inviting herself to Thanksgiving. She should have felt great that

her friend still wanted to see her. But all she felt was helpless, homesick, and guilty for

perpetuating this stupid cycle of lies.