Free Redemption by Veronique Launier Page A

I could easily watch her.
    She had earphones on and hummed softly to herself, though I was sure the other passengers couldn’t hear her. Her feet, in high-top shoes, were propped up on the side of the seat in front of her. Thick gray and black striped socks covered her legs up past her knees and where they ended, a brown leather notebook covered her bare legs. She chewed on the end of her pen. A glance around at the other passengers on the train told me there was no one else quite like her. For some reason, this pleased me.
    She got off at Peel, a station only a few blocks from my home, and I followed her to an old high school made of stone. I paused at the iron-worked gates and watched her walk up the steps to the front door. She stopped to talk to a boy, and I wondered if there was a story there.
    After she entered the building, I turned around to go back home and decide on my next course of action. Trailing her wasn’t providing any answers, and all talking to her had established was that she didn’t appear to know anymore than I did. But still I wasn’t wrong about her, there was a certain way she kept her essence shielded that wasn’t entirely normal.
    There was more to learn about her.

13
    Aude
    On my lunch break, I use my cell phone to quiz the people from the drumming workshop about where I could get my hands on a water drum. It’s crazy, but it’s the only clue I have to go on. Anyways, it’s useful for Lucid Pill—maybe I’ll become a sort of Van Gogh of the music world.
    A cheerful woman informs me that though they lend drums for the workshop, they always bring a bunch of them to sell, along with some other merchandise. She describes the workshop for me and it doesn’t take much to convince me to register for it. Talk about good salesmanship, I’m not even the drummer. The combination of drum and workshop will cost me about two weeks of my crappy salary, and I wonder if I made a mistake. But I need answers and I have no other clue to go by. I also have to admit it’s been a while since I diversified musically and I’m looking forward to it.
    Pleased with myself, I turn up the music on my iPod, and return to the cafeteria. I try to get a head start on my homework, but I’m distracted. Pictures of Guillaume’s guarded smile intrude into my thoughts and make me smile despite myself. I reach for my phone again. I want to ask Lucy for her opinion, but I let the phone drop back on my lap. I don’t know how to even broach the subject with her. There’s no precedent. Anyways, she’ll read more into it than there is.
    At this moment, I feel the distance between Lucy and me acutely. It’s like I don’t know how to talk to her anymore. I have all these things to say and no way to say them. I wonder if she feels the same way. Probably not, she has Trick.
    I cross my legs and pick up my notebook to write:
    That’s when he smiled at me,
And it became hard to see,
Why I should never ever let myself feel.
And with his eyes on me,
I wished I could be free,
And for once really let myself fall.
    I chew on the end of my pen while I look at the words that form bubbly, happy strokes on the paper. It’s like I can’t write anything but bad poetry when I’m upset. None of it feels right. Not the words, not my writing, and certainly not the sentiment conveyed. I let myself feel; I feel all sorts of things. I’ve just never found a reason to feel strongly about a guy.
    I’m not interested though. Both of the brothers are hot, but that in itself is not enough. They have an intensity I’ve never seen before. Like they are hungry for life. And Guillaume has a mysterious aloofness that is sort of difficult to ignore. But I can’t start thinking of him this way. It’s too much of a distraction.
    Lucid Pill is the only thing that is important.

14
    Guillaume
    She sprang down the steps, called out something behind her, and adjusted her backpack. I remained out of view and followed her. The only way my plan would