Free The Reaping of Norah Bentley by Eva Truesdale Page B

sudden voice startled me a little. He’d been quiet since we left the park. I’d been wondering the same thing, though; I’d tried to call Luke back, but he wasn’t picking up for some reason, so me and Eli decided to just retrace our steps, hoping we’d run into Luke along the way. Well, maybe not hoping. Not that it mattered either way, though, because it was probably going to happen—downtown Sutton wasn’t exactly a sprawling metropolis. You could stand on one side of it and spit to the other.
     
    “Probably,” I told him. “Fifth Street runs straight into Lakewood Park; when he saw me he probably assumed that’s where I was heading. He… me and him used to spend a lot of time there. It was sort of our place.”
     
    The part I didn’t tell him was why; how some nights we’d meet up there and stay for as long as we could get away with, for as long as we could put off my going back home to arguing and slamming doors and shattering beer bottles. That was back when my dad and Helen still fought all the time. Now they usually just ignored each other whenever they could, slept in different beds and barely nodded when they passed each other in the hallway. I’m pretty sure the only reason Dad didn’t ask for a divorce was because without Helen around, he’d have to raise me, and Lord knows he wasn’t doing that.
     
    I didn’t really want to elaborate on all that out loud, so I was glad when Eli didn’t ask questions, didn’t seem too interested in the hows and whys of me and Luke’s quality time.
     
    “I have a feeling he’s not going to be happy to see me,” he said.
     
    I slowed my march to almost a stop.
     
    “Speaking of which,” I said. “I wanted to talk to you about Luke.”
     
    “What about him?”
     
    “Mostly about why Luke can see you when all those teachers in the hallway couldn’t?” Saying it out loud made the answer seem all the more important all of a sudden, made me wonder why I hadn’t asked it earlier. But Eli just frowned.
     
    “I’m not exactly sure,” he said. Not the answer I’d been hoping for, but he really did look just as confused as I felt, so I didn’t bother repeating the question. I just picked up my earlier pace, and after a minute I said,
     
    “He doesn’t like you very much.”
     
    “I noticed.” He grinned wryly. “I’m incredibly perceptive like that; something about the clenched fists…”
     
    “It’s strange,” I thought aloud as we rounded the corner, now side-by-side. “Luke’s usually really easy to get along with.”
     
    “I can’t imagine what could possibly be making him dislike me so much,” he said, a little too innocently.
     
    I cut my eyes sideways at him, feeling a blush rising in my cheeks.
     
    “It’s nothing like that ,” I said. I looked away and started messing with the buttons on the cuff of my coat sleeve.
     
    “Of course not.”
     
    “We’re just friends.”
     
    “Uh-huh.”
     
    We both slowed half a step, perfectly synchronized like our walk was part of some choreographed dance, with the buzz of streetlights and barking dogs and the occasional passing car providing our background music.
     
    “And what if we weren’t just friends?” I heard myself ask. Our eyes met for a shy moment, and I quickly forced mine back to the path ahead of me. “Would he have any reason to be jealous?”
     
    “Jealousy is blind; it doesn’t need a reason.”
     
    “You’re really good at dodging questions.”
     
    He smiled. “It’s a skill I’ve developed. It’s helpful in my line of work.”
     
    “Which is what, exactly?”
     
    He just laughed quietly to himself, shaking his head. I sighed.
     
    “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
     
    “It’s complicated,” he said, somewhat apologetically now. “And I feel like I’ve complicated things enough for you tonight.”
     
    I couldn’t argue with that, so we walked on in silence for a minute. I should have been keeping an eye out for Luke,