Immediately Kendall’s OCD kicks in. Fear grips her and she can’t seem to get out of the desk fast enough. She nearly tips it over in her haste to get away, knocking the books from her own desk just as the lunching students return.
“What the heck was that?” she mutters under her breath, scrambling to pick up her books. Her brain is screaming at her to get away. Get away from the wonderful evil.
She knows that whatever it was, it wasn’t real. It can’t be real. It must be some weird grief thing, where you hear the voice of someone who has passed and really think it’s him. But it was just so strong. She catches her breath as Jacián comes in and sits down. Kendall slides back into her desk, heart still racing, trying to make sense of what just happened. Knowing it was all just emotion, grief. Feelings taking over, teasing her. Reminding her of how good it felt to be with Nico.
“It was never that good,” she mutters. Her temples pound.
“What?” Jacián says.
Kendall startles and turns to look at him. His brown eyes are flecked with yellow, and his eyebrows knit together, concerned. “Nothing,” she says. “Just. . mumbling.”
Jacián keeps looking at her. “Just mumbling,” he says.
“That’s what I said.”
He shrugs and pulls his notebook out of his backpack. “Look,” he says, “whenever you’re done with those potatoes, I could really use a soccer partner. If you’re not still mad. I mean, you can just come home with us whenever.”
Kendall’s brain is still buzzing. She edges away from Nico’s desk, toward Jacián. “I’m too tired to even think of playing.”
“That’s because you’re not playing.”
“What do I have to play for?”
Jacián stares at her for a long moment. Then he just shakes his head lightly and turns to face the front of the classroom.
They sit there in silence and wait for Ms. Hinkler to start the afternoon work. For the next three hours
Kendall can’t stop thinking about what happened with the desk.
And about hearing Nico’s voice.
By evening Kendall has reasoned away what happened. Her grief is playing tricks with her brain. Sure, her connection with Nico was strong — they were like twins in a way, the way they grew up and were always together. Of course she’s going to think she hears his voice now and then. It’s spooky, but it’s completely natural. And totally explainable. And completely sad.
It just makes her feel so lonely.
She lies in bed, window checked six times, moonlight streaming in through the soft white curtains. So lonely her arms ache with no one to hold.
Too much!
We pull back, suck in Our hypnotic venom, but it’s too late. The heat, the life is gone. Too strong, too desperate. And you. . unwilling? Nonmalleable? We curse now in the dark, quiet room. Our only option is to move.
We groan and creak, inching along, Our built-up strength leaking out with each motion.
There is no other choice for Us.
He’s alone in the morning in the pouring rain.
“Where’s Marlena?” Kendall asks, climbing into the truck.
Jacián chews on a toothpick, his dark eyes squinting through the sheets of water as his wipers fly from side to side. He flips the gearshift into drive. “Bozeman, getting a checkup at the doctor’s today. They’re taking the cast off.”
“Oh, that’s right. Cool.”
“She’ll still have to wear one of those boot things for a couple weeks.”
“Ew. Hideous. Serious fashion emergency.”
Jacián laughs and glances at her. “My parents and grandfather would like you and your family to come for dinner Sunday to celebrate. It’s Marlena’s sixteenth birthday. Can your family get away?”
“Just us?”
“No. Greenwoods too, and Marlena’s new sophomore friends. And maybe some others. I don’t know.
My grandfather is going to call your parents but I thought I’d mention it.” He slows at the four-way stop in town and peers through the weather. “Maybe we can scrimmage with Eli and a few of the others if they come.” He looks at her again, and his eyes are so earnest.
Kendall half smiles. “I brought my clothes today,” she says. She pats her backpack. “Mom told me I’m too mopey and she’s giving me the day off. I packed them up before I looked outside and saw this mess.”
“You did?” He sounds shocked. Pleased. “A little rain is nothing,” he says, a smile playing on his lips.
He pulls into the parking lot. “Let me know about Sunday. Two o’clock. Or, you know — tell Marlena, or whatever.”
“I will.”
He turns the truck off, and their collective breath steams up the windows. They sit for a minute, timing the rain, but it’s not letting up. Kendall looks over at Jacián. “Ready?”
He nods, and they make a mad dash for the school, splashing through the muddy parking lot to the doorway.
“Ever hear of concrete around here?” Jacián asks, looking at his jeans in disgust. They stomp their feet and go inside the school. “Or tar. Tar works too. They make roads out of it, and parking lots. . ”
“Shut it.”
He goes into the classroom first and stops short. “Do you, like, need to be the first to enter the room too?”
“No.” She eyes him suspiciously to see if he’s mocking her, but he appears serious.
“Just wondering. I knew a kid at camp who always needed to be in the front. He’d go around getting all upset and saying ‘I’m the front! I’m the front!’ and everybody was mean to him, thinking he was just trying to be first in line all the time. They didn’t understand.”
“It’s different for everybody.” Kendall shakes the rain out of her hair and starts on her rituals.
A moment later Jacián says, “Hey, Kendall?”
“Yeah?”
“I’m not positive, but I think Nico’s desk is switched again.”
Kendall’s stomach twists. “Seriously?” She finishes up the curtains and walks over to Jacián. “You’re right.”