I didn’t realize I was crying until the tears dripped off my chin, moistening my pajama top. I looked to Annabel e Lee for support. Big surprise. She shook her head and walked away.
Dad kissed my forehead. “Now go to sleep. You’re safe.”
He turned off my light and shut the door, leaving me standing there in the dark.
In shock.
CHAPTER NINE
I’d never thought much of wearing makeup. Too many girls at school wore too much, attempting to show they were growing up.
Instead of looking mature, it made most look old.
But I felt old. And looking at the bruise on my cheek in the bathroom mirror’s light that morning I decided drastic measures were needed. Some liquid concealer, powder, and blush later and I looked … well …
I examined myself in the mirror.
Not entirely whorish.
It would have to do.
It hurt to eat cereal, so I considered a radical liquid diet for the day. Coffee and orange juice to start.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Dad asked.
I ignored him.
“Stay clear of that boy,” he ordered.
“Dad. It’s not what you think.”
“Then tel me what it is.”
At the bottom of our long, gravel driveway the bus pul ed up. Early. “I wil .”
The bus honked, and I raced out the door, backpack and bag lunch in hand, jacket and scarf trailing as I ran.
I bounded up the steps to join Pietr.
“Makeup?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as I sat.
I shrugged, praying he wouldn’t press me for a reason.
Instead, he bent toward me, sweeping a few strands of my hair away from my face. “You’re hurt,” Pietr murmured, his eyes darkening. Thunderstorms roiled in their depths.
“It’s no big deal.” I took his hand and moved his fingers lightly down the curve of my face. Content beneath his hesitant touch, I sighed, my eyes latching on to his.
His breathing hitched. “Last night,” he realized, a faint line marring his brow.
“Yeah. But—” I looked down. Where were the words to explain it was nothing—a scratch, a bump, something so insignificant I could have gotten it doing chores…?
His hand heated my chin as he tilted it up so my eyes had to look into his again. I tried to ignore that across the aisle gossip-queen Stel a Martin and Bil y (an underclassman cultivating an early mustache) burned holes into me, staring at such an intimate exchange.
“I wasn’t … I couldn’t…” His brow lowered, darkening his already shadowy eyes. He pushed out a breath.
“Pietr.” I said his name like a protest. “Usual y I’m the one stumbling for words.” I smiled.
His expression was grim. “This wouldn’t have happened if—”
Maybe it was the bumpy road or maybe something more, but his hand trembled and I wrapped my fingers around his wrist, bolstering him.
“If what, Pietr?” My voice faltered.
He gently peeled my fingers away, releasing my chin, his eyes the blue of the most distant piece of sky.
Mouth tight, his lips grew thin as his jaw set. I caught glimpses of his reflection as he turned to the window and wrestled with something in his head.
Hand on his shoulder, I assured him, “It’s no big deal. You’re thinking about this waaay too much.”
He whipped around so quickly Stel a gasped. “Nyet,” he snapped, searching my face. “I never thought about it enough. That’s the problem. This—” He touched the bruise so softly.… But I winced. His expression locked down, rage on simmer. “This could have been much worse.” His hands fumbled on my shoulders and he drew me closer so I was the only one to hear. “He had a gun on you.”
That was the last thing he said on the bus that morning. I wanted to remind him I’d been through worse the night of his birthday, but he would have only twisted things around to support what he just now realized: that I was simply human.
Pietr kept his distance from me the rest of that day. Whenever I felt his eyes fal on my face they seemed so sad. And so determined.
Sarah continued throwing herself at him, and, to add to my frustration, his reflexes had dul ed. She landed frantic kisses on his lips twice, twisting her arms tightly around him once in a body-wrapping stranglehold of victory.
Unable to watch, I saw Derek approach.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” I replied.
“You look great today,” Derek complimented me. “Makeup.”
Why couldn’t Pietr have said that and not wondered? “Yeah.”
“You don’t need it,” he added. “Most girls pay—lots—to try and get the natural beauty you have.”
“Ha.”
He frowned, realizing he was getting nowhere. “You seem kind of down.” He rested his hand on my shoulder.
Warmth tingled out from his touch, and I sighed. While Pietr’s touch could be fire and flame, Derek’s was a slow-building heat—sunlight and summer.
“Anything I can do?”
I forced a smile. “Nope. It’l work out.”
“Sure,” he agreed, giving me one of his dazzling smiles. “Sarah and I were talking about you.”
“Oh.” I couldn’t hide my skepticism.
“It was al good,” he assured. “Anyhow … Sarah had an idea.…” He motioned to her as she stood scrutinizing our body language from across the hal . She pried her arms free from Pietr.
scrutinizing our body language from across the hal . She pried her arms free from Pietr.
Pietr looked past our heads, studying the wal and avoiding the questions fil ing my gaze.
Bopping over, Sarah paused in front of me. She clasped her hands and broke out her most winning smile. “When was the last time you went riding?”
The sting of her kissing Pietr was so fresh, I was immune to her charm. “I ride Rio almost every night.”
“I mean, when was the last time you competed in an event?”
I blinked at her, stunned. “June sixteenth.”
Derek’s hand slid down my arm.
Pietr’s eyes focused on me—until Derek took my hand.
Sarah rubbed her forehead, just beneath her soft blond bangs, where a scar stil marked her involvement in Mom’s accident. The smile fluttered off her lips.
Derek set his other hand on her shoulder. Her smile twitched back to life like some mad scientist’s experiment in reanimation. “It’s been far too long, I think. We think.” She inclined her head toward Derek.