“Benny and I met when he came to work with his dad one day. I told him his belly looked like Santa’s, he told me my lips were too big for my head, and I kicked him. We wrestled each other to the ground before the fight was broken up, but my father had seen me laugh. And Benny got to come back. Immediate besties.”
Except for right before the accident, when he’d started doing things like offering up his jacket, letting me go first, opening doors. I thought maybe he was trying to make the move from five years of comfortable friendship into something unknown and scary.
“The shots were so loud. I thought they were fireworks at first. I didn’t understand why anyone would be setting fireworks off in the middle of the day. But it was gunfire.”
Bullets had peppered the wrought iron and the sidewalk, scattered the crowd like jacks. Screams would serve as background noise for every waking moment of my next two years. Benny’s blood would be the backdrop. His blue eyes were open and empty as I lay beside his wasted body, splattered by his blood. It was in that second, before reality and grief rolled in, I decided I’d spend the rest of my life living enough for both of us.
I met Dune’s eyes. “He died right there on Jackson Square.”
“Were you hurt?”
“Took a hit on my shoulder. I didn’t know a bodyguard was tailing us, but he tackled me to get me to the ground, and broke my left leg in three places.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Fifteen.” I shrugged. “That’s when I decided life was short—at least I’m pretty sure mine will be—and that there’s no point in living if you don’t go balls to the wall with it. Hard to do when you’re protected the way I am, but it doesn’t mean I’ll stop. I turn eighteen soon.”
“Will you leave home?” He understood. I could hear it.
“I want to go to school at Tulane, for dance. I understand why Dad wants me here, protected all the time. It was hard on everyone when we lost Benny. If he could just give me a little more lead on my leash … but he won’t.” I met his eyes. “I haven’t decided what to do yet. If one day I’ll change my appearance and run, or if I’ll stay. But honestly, I can’t see the latter as an option.”
“I don’t think anyone would blame you.”
“No running today.” I faced him, trying to lighten things up. If I kept talking, I’d turn my hallway into a confessional and Dune into my priest. “We still have a game to play.”
“Agreed. But I’ll only answer if you promise to keep undergarment preferences out of it.”
He knew exactly how raw I felt, and how telling him so much so fast had surprised me. Instead of taking advantage of it, he helped me steer my emotions back to safe waters.
“Bikinis,” I said, smiling. “Just so you know.”
Chapter 9
Dune, Early December
Hallie said, “So yes or no?”
It had been just over a week since I’d blown my cover, and Hallie and I had spent it playing an extended game of either/or in the hall outside her room. We’d talked about everything.
Except the Infinityglass.
Today we’d hit on all the major religions before she asked me to eat a late breakfast with her.
“How could I refuse? No, I mean, I really can’t. Not you. You’re the boss.”
She popped up off the ground and held out her hands like she was going to help me up.
“Are you serious? I outweigh you by at least a hundred pounds.”
She rolled her eyes and held out her hands in a more exaggerated way instead of answering, so I gave in. She pulled me up so easily we had an accidental chest bump. The grin she gave me when we made contact was full of suggestion.
Talk about conflict.
The Infinityglass started as a thing, then a person, and then morphed into a vibrant personality, but the past two weeks had humanized Hallie in a way I hadn’t been prepared for. I still didn’t know enough about her, but now it was on a hundred different levels, and they didn’t even include the scientific angle. This was probably not good.
“How do you feel about bacon?” She pulled a strand of dark hair around her finger, twisting and untwisting.
“Passionate.” I followed her down the stairs.
“I knew you had good taste. Speaking of passions, you never told me how you got interested in the Infinityglass in the first place.”
I followed her into the kitchen.
“My dad. In the bedtime stories he told me, the Infinityglass was shaped like an hourglass, and the sands inside were powerful. They could reverse time, stop it, speed it up. It could transfer abilities between people who had a time-related gift. It had unknown magic that could be used to cure all the world’s ills.”