Free Minutes Before Sunset by Shannon A. Thompson Page B

shoulder against mine. “Be human for a minute.”
    “If you haven’t noticed,” I said and laughed. “We aren’t exactly human right now.”
    She narrowed her eyes. “You’re avoiding the subject.”
    I groaned, laying my forehead on my knee. “I worked with an elder,” I said, and, when I looked up, she was smiling.
    “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”
    I chuckled and shook my head. “But you aren’t my therapist.”
    “No,” she agreed. “But I’m your friend, and friends help each other.”
    Friend? I gaped at her. She considered me her friend?
    I tensed as she scooted closer to me. “So tell me about it already.”
    “The elders—” I paused, clearing the nerves from my throat. “They tested me the other day. That’s it.”
    She leaned back and stared at the bruises. “And they hurt you?”
    “It was necessary.”
    Her purple eyes flickered. “How is pain necessary?”
    “There’s a war coming, remember?”
    Her already white skin somehow paled. “And you’re a warrior.”
    I nodded. “The elders think I need to know what it’s like to be attacked by a light.”
    “The Light.” She let the word linger in the air, and she hugged her knees against her chest. “Those are the bad guys, right?”
    “Depends on who wins, I guess.” I smirked, but she didn’t smile.
    “When will someone win?”
    I sighed. “There’s a battle,” I said, hesitating. I shouldn’t be telling her so much, but I hadn’t talked to anyone in so long, let alone someone my own age. And a girl. “It’ll happen this December.”
    Her thin eyebrows scrunched. “It’s scheduled?”
    “It’s based on the first descendant’s birthday.” My birthday.
    “That seems really odd,” she said, and I shrugged before she pushed her shoulder against mine again. “Especially with these cranky elders dictating it all.”
    I chuckled. The prophecy was dictating it. The elders only wished they had that kind of power. “It isn’t their fault,” I said. “Really.”
    “But you have to fight in it?”
    My gaze darted away until I could control my expression. “I choose to.” Lie. “Defending my kind is the honorable thing to do.”
    “You’re eighteen,” she said. “You’re not supposed to care about honor.”
    “I’m seventeen.”
    “What’s the difference?” she asked, and I opened my mouth to tell her, but I couldn’t—not because I didn’t want her to know, but because I still didn’t want to accept it.
    “There’s a big difference,” I said.
    She huffed. “One year.”
    “Yeah,” I agreed. The one year I had left to live. “A lot can happen in that amount of time.”

 
    14

Jessica
     
    I slammed my book on our desk and glared at the misty-eyed boy who had skipped school for almost an entire week. He jumped, but his expression remained starkly neutral. “What’s wrong, Jessica?”
    I shuddered. Did he just use my full name?
    He leaned forward, and his green eyes flew over me. “Jessica? What’s wrong?”
    “What’s wrong?” I collapsed into my chair, my hair whipping against my face. “Are you joking?”
    He smiled, and anger flooded my veins. Why the hell was he smiling?
    “You could tell me what’s wrong,” he said. “Then I’ll start joking.”
    I held my hand up in his face. “Quit the bullshit,” I said.
    He raised his brow. “You still haven’t told me what’s wrong.”
    “Give me the chance.”
    “I already have,” he said, lowering his voice. “But I’d calm down if I were you. The entire class is staring.”
    He was right. Everyone lifted their eyes from their labs to gawk at our table. Even Robb and Crystal were watching.
    I gripped the table and turned my back to them. At least there was one positive thing about sitting at the front of the classroom. “Maybe if you were listening to me, you wouldn’t have noticed what others were doing,” I said, and he leaned back, raising his brow.
    “I’ve been under the stare radar for a few years now,” he