“I call half of this one,” Priest said. “I did almost drown.”
“You’re going to milk that for all it’s worth, aren’t you?” Alara teased.
“Ah… that would be a yes.”
“You should call the first shower while you’re at it,” she said. “You smell even worse than Kennedy.”
Jared and Lukas stood next to each other by the door. I wasn’t used to seeing them side by side, with their identical broad shoulders and full lips, sleepy eyes and long eyelashes. They looked like the same person, but they were so different.
After Priest took a shower, I was voted the second dirtiest. I didn’t argue. Dried well water coated my skin, and my clothes were even worse.
“Hey.” Lukas stood behind me with something balled up in his hand. “I have an extra T-shirt if you need one.” I hadn’t thought about what I was going to put on after my shower.
“Thanks.”
My scraped skin brushed his rope-burned palm. Even bloody and raw, his touch was gentle—like him. I could imagine Lukas listening to “Home,” the song we both loved, whispering the lyrics to himself the way I did when I felt lost.
I closed the door and leaned against it, letting the room fill with steam. I didn’t want to look at my tangled hair and grime-streaked face in the mirror. But I didn’t need to see the fresh cuts on the rest of my body to know they were there. Hot water stung them as I sat on the shower floor, waiting for the brown water running off my legs to turn clear again.
The memory of Millicent’s cold arm around my neck and the well water filling my lungs finally drove me out of the shower.
I slipped into Lukas’ T-shirt, relieved when it grazed my knees. I was even more relieved that I had ignored Elle when she tried to convince me to trade my boy shorts for “cute” underwear, with stupid words like pink written on the back.
When I finally opened the door, it still felt like everyone could see right through the shirt.
Priest put on his headphones. “Anyone care if I turn off the lights?”
Thank god.
I made a beeline for the bed, tugging at the bottom of the T-shirt. A streak of blood smeared across the cotton. Between skidding across the front walk at my house and fighting off Millicent’s spirit, the cuts on my hand were bleeding again. As I turned back toward the bathroom to grab a towel, Lukas stepped inside and closed the door.
Exhaustion hit as I sat on the edge of the bed waiting for him to finish. My eyes felt heavy, and I fought to stay awake.
When the door hinges creaked, I jumped. I wandered to the bathroom half asleep.
Lukas walked out barefoot and shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. He rubbed a towel over his hair, sending streaks of water down his chest.
With nowhere else to look, I studied a bare patch on the stained carpet. “I need to grab a towel for my hand.”
“Let me see.” He stepped closer and took my wrist gently, his jeans brushing against my leg.
“It’s no big deal.” I tried to ignore the fact that I was standing in front of a beautiful boy, wearing his T-shirt.
“As long as you’re all right.” Lukas’ hand slid from my wrist as I stepped into the harsh light of the tiny bathroom.
I rinsed my hand and knotted a hand towel around it.
When I came back out, Jared was standing there, wringing a clean shirt in his hands. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Lukas had looked without his shirt—imagining Jared that way now.
My heart hammered against my ribs. I searched for the bare spot on the carpet again, terrified he’d know exactly what I was thinking if he saw my face.
He stepped aside and gave me enough room to pass.
“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said softly as he shut the door.
Standing in the dark, the air still carrying the weight of the unnamed thing between us.
I fell onto the bed next to Alara and listened to the running water echoing from the shower.
Don’t think about it.
Alara nudged me. “Kennedy?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for going after Priest back there. It took guts.”
The compliment caught me off guard. “Anyone would have done the same thing.”
“Not unless you’re one of us.” There was something about the way she said it that made it seem possible.
“Is it hard to be part of the Legion?”
Alara was quiet for a moment. “You have to give up a lot.”
“Like school and your friends—”
“Like my family.”
It wasn’t the response I had expected. “I thought you grew up with your grandmother.”
“I moved in with her when I was ten. Before that I lived with my parents and my younger brother and sister, in Miami.”
“Why did you move in with her?” I was prying, but I sensed that she wanted to talk. And I missed the nights Elle and I stayed up late sharing secrets.
“My parents knew one of us would be chosen to join the Legion before we were old enough to walk, and they knew it would be me or my sister, Maya. My grandmother wanted to pass her specialty on to a girl.” Alara stared at the ceiling.
“And she chose you?”
“Not exactly. She wanted to take one of us while we were young enough for our training to become second nature, but my parents kept stalling. Eventually, my grandmother forced them to pick a date. When the day finally arrived, we knew my grandmother was coming and that one of us would be leaving with her. Maya and I sat on this green velvet sofa in the foyer, holding hands. My mother had dressed us up in these stupid taffeta dresses like we were going to a party. My parents were in my father’s office with my grandmother, deciding who she was going to take. When they came back out, my mom was crying. My grandmother told her to choose.”