Underwater Read Free Page B

Pretty—as I’d dubbed him—held his hand out to me, I just sat there, staring at him like my little brother stares at his video games for five seconds until Evey kicked my chair. When I raised my palm and put it in his, I realized my sweat glands had thrown themselves into overdrive. I was good and clammy when he slowly shook my hand.
    “Your hand’s shaking.” His voice was deep and rich, like the drinks my parents made at their coffee shop in downtown Sandpoint. It wrapped itself around me like a heavy, warm blanket, and the trembling stopped. “There,” he said. “That’s better.”
    I opened my mouth to speak and then closed it again. All of my witty, scathing one-liners eluded me, and I suddenly felt as though I were completely stoned on a handful of painkillers. During the first few months after the accident, I’d spent plenty of time being medicated, and this guy apparently had the same effect.
    Most of the activity in the hallway ceased as The Pretty held my hand and smiled down at me. Lockers stopped slamming. Feet stopped walking. And all eyes—especially those belonging to the girls—locked themselves on our exchange. My school was just small enough that a new kid usually warranted stares and whispers. But when a kid walked into our school with bulging muscles, a jawline that could cut stone, and inexplicable tattoos on either side of his neck…kids froze in place with their mouths hanging open.
    Right as the silence between The Pretty and I stretched into uncomfortable territory, he leaned his head forward, pressed a quick kiss to my knuckles, then dropped my hand. I blinked a couple of times, trying to clear the warm fuzzies and form words, but he walked away before I regained use of my tongue, and he spoke to no one else before turning down the west hallway.
    After school, as we were leaving, my wheel bounced in a parking lot pothole, splashing my leg with rainwater. “Hey.” I bent to swipe at it as Evey pushed me to the back fence where we met Mom every afternoon. “Slow down there, slick.”
    My sister giggled. “Sorry. I’ve got a need for speed.”
    “Well, it’s a good thing I can’t feel how cold the water is.” I glanced over my shoulder at her. “Otherwise I’d be pissed right now.”
    “Not funny.” Evey’s green eyes narrowed for just a moment before looking around. “So?”
    I tugged my hair into a makeshift bun on the back of my head, fastening it in place with a pen. “So, what?”
    Evey and I came to a stop at our waiting place.
    “Come on, Luna. Spill it.”
    I had to laugh at my sister. She was staring at me with such an intense gaze that I thought my chair was going to sink into the gravel a few inches. “There’s nothing to spill.”
    “Don’t give me that.” She sat down on top of her backpack. “Did you see him again? Did you have any classes together?”
    I raised my eyebrow at her. “Who?”
    She looked at me over the top of her glasses. “Please. The guy. With the T-shirt and the muscles and the…the hair and stuff.”
    “Wow, that was some description.” I pulled a compact out of my bag and started to reapply my dark red lipstick. “And no. I didn’t see him again. Amber and Jessie saw him in the hallway, but we didn’t see him in any of the classes. He sort of disappeared.”
    She flared her nostrils at the mention of my friends. She wasn’t exactly their biggest fan. Protective sister and all that. “Lucky them. So he disappeared, huh?”
    “Poof.” I waved my hands with the lipstick still extended. “Like magic.”
    She twisted a strand of her ponytail around her finger. “How did he know your name?”
    “Besides my wild reputation?” I watched as a rowdy group of boys emerged from the back of the school, pushing and shoving each other like ten-year-olds. When I caught sight of my sister gaping at me with unabashed curiosity, I held up the thick canvas strap of my bag where my name was spelled out in metal studs. “I think he saw