A Beautiful Dark Read Free

late,” he said. “You’ve still got half an hour to change your life.”
    I looked at him, confused. What a strange thing to say to someone you’d just met. “Maybe I don’t want to change my life.”
    “You wouldn’t change anything at all?”
    My mind flashed to my parents, of course, but wishing for a way to feel closer to them was impossible. “No,” I said. “Not really.”
    “Well, I hope that works out for you.”
    I turned back toward the door, feeling like I’d missed the point of the conversation somehow.
    “I’ll see you around, Skye,” he said as I walked back inside. “Happy birthday.”

Chapter 2
     
    I n the privacy of the fluorescent-lit bathroom, I stared at my reflection. My eyes were flashing silver in the light—true silver, not the silvery gray they appeared to be on most days. I blinked, but nothing changed. They only flashed brighter, more vibrantly. They reminded me of a movie we watched in chemistry earlier in the year. When the scientist broke an old thermometer into a petri dish, the mercury slipped from the cracks in the glass, quick and light, not nearly as thick and goopy as I’d expected it would be.
    I couldn’t quiet my heartbeat. What had caused my eyes to look this way? Had the effect started before I went outside? Or did it have something to do with the unexpected attraction I’d felt to the guy leaning against the wall? I realized now that I didn’t even know his name.
    When I heard the door to the bathroom open followed by the sound of laughter, I fled into the nearest stall and pressed my back against the cool metal door. I fought to calm my erratic heart and wild thoughts, to focus on the problem at hand. I couldn’t face my friends until my eyes were normal gray again. What had I done to make it stop the last time this happened?
    I’d been skiing in a race about two weeks before. It had been neck and neck for a while—this girl from Holy Cross Academy and I. I’d leaned into the wind, feeling for the turns, blocking out the noise, the sound, everything but the feel of the snow beneath me. At the bottom, when she congratulated me on my win, I took off my goggles. “Whoa,” she’d said. “Are you wearing contacts?” And moments later, in a bathroom so much like this one, I saw it for the first time. My eyes like liquid silver coins staring back at me in shock.
    I detached myself from the stall door and waited until the two girls who had interrupted me left, the door squeaking open and then shut. The bathroom was quiet. I emerged, lifting my face once again to stare into the mirror, bracing myself for what I was about to see.
    But my eyes were back to the same old nickel gray. Something my dad used to say needled its way into my thoughts. Little silver bells. When they ring, we’ll know. It came out of nowhere. I hadn’t thought about it since he’d died.
    Pushing the memory aside, I took a deep breath and stood straighter, appraising the rest of me. My skin looked even paler than usual. My jeans and periwinkle sweater, which before had felt just right for a cozy night with friends, now felt frumpy. I took my sweater off. The tight T-shirt underneath was marginally better. My black waves were plastered to my neck from the dancing, and I scooped them up into a ponytail.
    I glanced down at my watch. It was almost midnight. I wondered if everyone would give me a hard time for going home this early. Cassie would be disappointed. She’d been gloating all week that she’d convinced Aunt Jo to forfeit my curfew just this one night. I hated to waste it, but I’d suddenly lost all enthusiasm for partying. Why did this keep happening? Was I sick?
    The bathroom door squeaked on its hinges again as I pushed my way back into the hall, reminding myself to tell Ian that he should probably get that fixed.
    The light in the hall was dim, and it took my eyes a little while to adjust to the difference.
    But then I saw them.
    Two guys were standing with their backs to