Free The Dark Light by Sara Walsh Page A

of the parking lot.
    “So how do you like Crownsville?” I asked, unable to think of anything else to say, and wondering if this time I might get an answer.
    “It’s different,” he said.
    We stopped at a red light, and I caught him watching me out of the corner of his eye. I got the feeling he was studying me as much as I’d studied him.
    “No one really thinks you took those kids,” I said.
    He smiled. “I didn’t think they did until about a second ago.”
    Shut up, Mia.
    The light turned. Sol went back to watching the road. It was a relief. There was something about him I couldn’t pinpoint. It was as if he already knew me, or expected me to say something, but I wasn’t sure what. It was a little like when Rifkin called on you in class, and you realized that you’d been daydreaming and had no idea what the question was. I hated those moments because usually I filled them with pointless chatter like, “Is Crownsville High much different from your old school?”
    “Very,” he said.
    “And where was that?”
    Sol stared at the road. It was difficult to know where to look. His face in profile, with his straight nose and strong jaw, was as gorgeous as he was head on. His smile faded. I wasn’t sure why, but I was suddenly cast back to the ferry and Gus’s intensity as he gazed into the fog. Sol’s huge hands gripped the wheel, the tendons in his arms straining as he twisted the vinyl. “It was some place far away.”
    Another red light. I hadn’t noticed how many lights there were down here. As soon as we stopped, Sol again faced me.
    “Why were you on the river last night?” he asked.
    The cabin seemed to shrink even further. All I could see were Sol’s wide shoulders, his long arms, and the questioning look in his eyes. I glanced at his hands, which moments before had squeezed the wheel, and thought of Kieran and his crazy conspiracies. They were pretty big hands. Strong hands. The kind that could easily grab a kid off the street. I swallowed.
    “My car died,” I said, cursing Kieran for making me feel so uneasy. “Mr. Mason was giving me a ride to Miller’s Crossing.”
    “But why were you up there?”
    “Well . . .” I took a breath. There was no reason to feel this nervous, no matter how hard he’d twisted that wheel. Whatever the rumors were about Sol, he’d done nothing to deserve them. He wasn’t the most open guy, but he had just started at a new school. I couldn’t blame him for keeping his distance. It didn’t mean he was about to leave me dead in a ditch.
    “I was coming to return your book.”
    “So you know where I live.”
    “Everyone does.”
    “Are you often up at the Ridge?”
    A horn honked and our eyes snapped forward to find that the light had changed. Sol drove on.
    “Sometimes,” I said. “Mainly in summer. Sometimes we go to Jacob’s Lake. It’s about fifty miles from here. A couple of guys from school have homes up there.”
    “And the rest of the time?”
    “I don’t know. Just what anyone does in a town this size.”
    We pulled up in front of Mickey’s, ending what had almost been the longest ten minutes of my life. I reached for my bag. “Thanks,” I said, and handed him his book.
    Sol took it. He continued to watch me as if my face were covered in a thousand captions and clues. “You never did tell me where you’d seen the Lunestral,” he said.
    “You never asked.”
    “I’m asking now.”
    This was unknown territory. Having a mother in prison, a loser father, a depressive uncle. No problem. I’d admit it to anyone who asked. But admit that Jay had a tattoo?
    “My half brother has the same tattoo,” I said, shocked to hear the words coming from my mouth. “Only, he’s much younger—he’s only ten. My dad and his wife gave it to him before he came to live with us; we planned to remove it. It’s an unusual design, so I just wondered—”
    “If you knew where mine came from, you might discover where your brother got his.”
    He was