Free Fallen by Lauren Kate Page B

few feet in front of Luce and giving her an amused you-poor-newbie shake of the head.
    “I’ve been here for ten minutes,” Luce said. “Aren’t
you
the one who’s late?”
    Penn smirked. “No way, I’m just an early riser. Inever get detention.” She shrugged and pushed her purple glasses up on her nose. “But you do, along with five other unfortunate souls, who are probably getting angrier by the minute waiting for you down at the monolith.” She stood on tiptoe and pointed behind Luce, toward the largest stone structure, which rose up from the middle of the deepest part of the cemetery. If Luce squinted, she could just make out a group of black figures clustered around its base.
    “They just said meet at the cemetery,” Luce said, already feeling defeated. “No one told me where to go.”
    “Well, I’m telling you: monolith. Now get down there,” Penn said. “You’re not going to make many friends by cutting into their morning any more than you already have.”
    Luce gulped. Part of her wanted to ask Penn to show her the way. From up here, it looked like a labyrinth, and Luce did not want to get lost in the cemetery. Suddenly, she got that nervous, far-away-from-home feeling, and she knew it was only going to get worse in there. She cracked her knuckles, stalling.
    “Luce?” Penn said, giving her shoulders a bit of a shove. “You’re still standing here.”
    Luce tried to give Penn a brave thank-you smile, but had to settle for an awkward facial twitch. Then she hurried down the slope into the heart of the cemetery.
    The sun still hadn’t risen, but it was getting closer, and these last few predawn moments were always theones that creeped her out the most. She tore past the rows of plain headstones. At one point they must have been upright, but by now they were so old that most of them tipped over to one side or the other, giving the whole place the look of a set of morbid dominoes.
    She slopped in her black Converse sneakers through puddles of mud, crunched over dead leaves. By the time she cleared the section of simple plots and made it to the more ornate tombs, the ground had more or less flattened out, and she was totally lost. She stopped running, tried to catch her breath. Voices. If she calmed down, she could hear voices.
    “Five more minutes, then I’m out,” a guy said.
    “Too bad your opinion has no value, Mr. Sparks.” An ornery voice, one Luce recognized from her classes yesterday. Ms. Tross—the Albatross. After the meat loaf incident, Luce had shown up late to her class and hadn’t exactly made the most favorable impression on the dour, spherical science teacher.
    “Unless anyone wants to lose his or her social privileges this week”—groans from among the tombs—“we will all wait patiently, as if we had nothing better to do, until Miss Price decides to grace us with her presence.”
    “I’m here,” Luce gasped, finally rounding a giant statue of a cherub.
    Ms. Tross stood with her hands on her hips, wearing a variation of yesterday’s loose black muumuu. Her thin mouse-brown hair was plastered to her scalp and her dullbrown eyes showed only annoyance at Luce’s arrival. Biology had always been tough for Luce, and so far, she wasn’t doing her grade in Ms. Tross’s class any favors.
    Behind the Albatross were Arriane, Molly, and Roland, scattered around a circle of plinths that all faced a large central statue of an angel. Compared to the rest of the statues, this one seemed newer, whiter, grander. And leaning up against the angel’s sculpted thigh—she almost hadn’t noticed—was Daniel.
    He was wearing the busted black leather jacket and the bright red scarf she’d fixated on yesterday. Luce took in his messy blond hair, which looked like it hadn’t yet been smoothed down after sleep … which made her think about what Daniel might look like when he was sleeping … which made her blush so intensely that by the time her eyes made their way down from his