a…trophy, or a contest prize, you know?”
I thought he underestimated his level of appeal, but instead of telling him that , I said, “So, c’mon, you expect me to believe you don’t date anyone, even Jill?”
“Jill and I really are just friends,” he said seriously. “Actually, she’s like my cousin. We have…common interests. And she definitely encourages me to stay away from Academy girls. Some of your classmates are not very nice, you might have noticed.”
I snorted. “You’re not kidding.” I spared a fleeting thought to wonder how Jill felt about being considered like a cousin, and then added, “And you’re also not answering my question.”
He laughed again. “You’re really not shy, are you, Lainey? First time I met you, I was sure you were just going to be a pretty, quiet girl who loved books. But to answer your question: you forget—unlike all but a few of the Academy students, I grew up here. All my previous girl-56 | C A R A B E R T R A N D
friends have been from town. There isn’t one right now though, a local girl, I mean. In case that was your next question.”
I wasn’t shy, that was true—if I had been, my transient life would’ve been pretty difficult—but hoped he didn’t think I was like those other Academy girls, looking to toy with the local boy. I was trying to figure out how to say that without embarrassing myself completely, but Carter saved me from it.
“That’s what I like about you, Lainey,” he said. “You’re not quite what I expected, and you’re not like the typical Academy girls. You’re not like anyone,” he added quietly, almost as if he didn’t realize he’d said it out loud.
I opened my mouth to respond but didn’t get the chance. The front door jingled and a loud group of my classmates laughed their way inside, heading for the lounge that had filled in around us. I’d been so absorbed, I hadn’t realized. Carter stood, grabbing his entirely untouched book off the table.
“As much as I’d rather not be,” he said, “I am still at work and need to get back to it.” As he turned toward the register, he added, “You know, you should go say hi to Jillian while you wait for your roommate’s trail of clues to lead her here. She’s a little quiet sometimes, I know, but I think she’d like you.”
“Uh, sure,” I said, hoping I didn’t sound too hesitant. Jill was quiet, and hadn’t really taken to my attempts to befriend her yet. But I’d follow his suggestion and give talking to her one more shot. I left my book and my bag on the couch to save my spot and headed over toward her table.
I didn’t make it.
I was about four steps from Jill when it hit, a familiar wave of dizziness. I reached out to steady myself, my fingers brushing the hair of the student sitting in the chair nearest to me. She was a pretty freshman girl with light brown hair and a friendly smile. I didn’t know her
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name, but in that moment I did know she was going skiing over Thanksgiving break and would not be coming back.
In a swift vision, I witnessed the girl catch the edge of her ski on some ice and frantically spiral her arms before tumbling over sideways and sliding head-first into a towering light pole.
She did not move again.
I blinked and, instead of the dead girl, saw Jill. Her pale blue eyes, already enormous, appeared a strange, deep shade of indigo as they widened even more in surprise. Blackness invaded my own eyes then and I dropped toward the floor.
Chapter Seven
hen everything came back into focus, I found myself lying on an unfamiliar bed in a dark room. The door was open a sliver; a slice of light sneaking in from the hallway offered W the only source of illumination. I remembered the freshman girl, and the vision, and Jill’s surprisingly strong hand around my wrist right before I collapsed. What I didn’t remember was how I got wherever I was. What I could see gave me no clues to my whereabouts except