Forbidden (13 page)

That is, if he ever returned to school.

The following morning, traffic was so bad that Claire arrived at school with only two minutes to spare before classes started. She made a beeline for history in the North Quad, arriving breathless just as the second bell rang.

To her astonishment, Mr. Patterson’s door slammed shut in her face. Claire stopped short, speechless, then quietly tried the door handle. It was
locked
.

Claire had
never
been locked out of a class! It was bad enough that she’d received a D on her first history paper. This would only further jeopardize her grade—and, ultimately, her scholarship. Fighting back a wave of panic, she wandered around the side of the building. Through the classroom window, she could see Mr. Patterson already lecturing. She was about to head to the library to study when she noticed Alec sitting in his usual seat.

So he’s back—and he’s okay
, she thought. A surge of intense relief swept through her. A second, lesser thought followed: Maybe she’d finally get a chance to talk to him today, and find out what planet he was from. Her cell phone vibrated in her pocket, signaling a new text message.
Crap!
she thought. She’d forgotten to turn off the damn thing when she arrived on campus. She yanked the phone out and glanced at the screen, fully expecting the text to be from her mom.

Instead, it was from an unknown number. All it said was:

Don’t panic
.

She glanced up and saw Alec secretly working his cell phone beneath the cover of his desk. Another message arrived:

I’ll share my notes. —A

Claire smiled. That was nice of him. She was putting her cell phone away when the sharp rap of knuckles against glass brought her eyes back to the classroom window. She froze in horror. Mr. Patterson opened the window, his eyes fixed on her, Alec’s cell phone in his hand.

“Congratulations, Miss Brennan,” he said with a derisive smile. “You and Mr. MacKenzie have just earned yourselves detention tomorrow.”

eleven

A
lec stared at the green wad of gum that was stuck to the underside of the cafeteria table just inches from his face. What possessed these kids, he wondered, to engage in such a repulsive, germ-spreading habit? From his awkward position, seated cross-legged on the tile floor, he raised his weapon—a butter knife.

“I’m sorry I got you into this mess.” Alec began chiseling away at the offensive lump.

Claire smiled, similarly employed beneath a nearby table. “It’s okay. Getting EMD will help defuse my rep as a goody-goody.”

The administration at Emerson apparently believed that it was best for student growth to focus their time after school on athletics, the arts, and other extracurricular activities, so detention—instead of being after school—was served
before
. Hence the name Early Morning Detention, or EMD. As demeaning as this task was, Alec didn’t mind being here—both because he was with Claire, and because it was a welcome distraction from the assignment that had been weighing on him ever since Vincent’s visit. Alec knew he was supposed to be keeping an eye out for the Awakened at school—he should have started looking yesterday—but so far, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to even glance at the data on Vincent’s tablet. Thankfully, at least Claire was out of the running, since the target was male.

He glanced at her as she concentrated on removing a particularly difficult piece of gum. Even at seven in the morning, crouched beneath a cafeteria table, she looked bright and beautiful, and best of all, blissfully unaware of it. He wondered what she was thinking. The whole school seemed to be talking about the scaffolding incident, and he felt certain it was still fresh in Claire’s mind. Vincent believed Alec had covered up the use of his powers well, but Alec was unconvinced. He’d been so reluctant to talk to Claire that he’d deliberately cut school Monday, but he couldn’t keep that up forever. She hadn’t said a word about it yesterday after history. Maybe—just maybe—he’d imagined that look she’d given him after he tackled them, and she didn’t suspect a thing.

They worked in silence for a few minutes, accompanied by the sounds of clanging metal pans and fervent chopping from the nearby kitchen. Alec was trying to decide how to begin a conversation when, thankfully, she did it for him.

“I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Claire said with a cautious glance in his direction, “after what happened on Friday, we were …
I
was worried all weekend.”

His pulse quickened.
Shite. Here it comes
. “Worried?”

“Yeah, I was afraid you might have been hurt in the accident.”

“Oh.” Was that all that was worrying her? Relief curled through him. Alec popped off a wad of pink gum, dropped it into a trash bag, and scooted along the floor to the next table. “No, I’m fine. I was really sorry to hear about Brian’s shoulder, though—and I’m glad you and Erica weren’t hurt.”

“Thanks. We all felt bad that we couldn’t call you or anything. Did you know you’re not listed in the Emerson directory?”

From the expression on her face, he could see that she was dying to probe further—just as he was dying to change the subject. “I like to keep that information private.” Alec hoped his tone sounded casual.

“Why?”

“Because I live by myself.” He was grateful that he could at least answer that question truthfully. “The administration is okay with it, but I thought it’d seem strange to others if a student was listed without any parents or guardians.”

“How’d you pull that off? I thought it was against the law for minors to live alone.”

“I’m emancipated.” He’d told this story so often over the past month—to school administrators, his landlord, the guy he’d bought his car from—it was starting to feel as if it had really happened. “Last year, I moved to northern California to live with my uncle Gregory. Unfortunately, he turned out to be a raging alcoholic, so I petitioned the court to let me live on my own—but he still pays my tuition.”

“Wow. That must have been hard. But don’t you have any other relatives you could live with?”

“Not really, no.” It was the perfect opening: He could slip in a few tidbits to address his previous mistakes. “At first, after my parents died, I lived with my grandfather in Spain—but he’s an anarchist, and they threw him in prison. Then I stayed with an aunt who’s a missionary in Korea, but her boyfriend wasn’t too keen on having me there, and neither was the aunt with seventeen cats in Edinburgh.”
That should tie things up nicely—if she buys it
.

Claire frowned, sliding to another table, where she began de-gumming its underside. “Brutal. I don’t envy your family reunions.”

He laughed.

“But at least you
have
some family,” Claire continued. “I don’t know where any of mine is. My mother is the only relative I have.”

“Really? Why? Is your mother the black sheep of the family? Did she run away and join the circus, or marry someone they didn’t approve of?”

Claire shrugged. “I wish I knew. She refuses to talk about it. All I know is they got married, had me, and then he left.”

“Do you even know who your father is?”

“Nope. I like to think he was a Nobel Prize–winning scientist who had to return to vitally important, top-secret work, and then died rescuing his lab workers from a fire. Or the emperor of some small island nation forced into hiding when a coup took over.” She sighed. “But the truth is, I think he’s just some deadbeat who knocked up my mom at seventeen and bailed.”

“I’m sorry. I know how hard it is, growing up without a father.”

“How old were you when your parents died?”

“Ten.” The truth, again—although age ten had been so long ago for him, he could barely remember it.

“Now it’s my turn to say I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

Claire fell silent once more as they continued scraping. Alec felt her eyes on him, and he sensed that she was drumming up the courage to ask him something else.

“By the way,” she said hesitantly, “about Friday …”

He froze. “Aye?”

“I haven’t thanked you properly for the whole … saving-my-life thing.”

“Oh. That.” His heart pounded. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I can’t help thinking about it. Alec, what you did, it was amazing. You
saved us
. But then you left without a word. I get that you like your privacy, but why did you disappear like that?”

Okay
, Alec thought. Still a harmless enough question that he could deal with. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told the police when they called me. I just didn’t want the attention.”

“Because of what you did?”

Alarm flickered through him. “What?”

“That scaffolding was going to hit us—we were all toast. But I saw you raise your arm as if you were pushing it away, and the whole thing wavered and crashed off to the side. Then you lifted us to safety and vanished like a superhero in a comic book. How did you do it?”

Well. There it is
, Alec thought.
She did see, after all—and she certainly isn’t beating around the bush about it
.

The first bell rang, giving him the reprieve he desperately needed. “I don’t know what you mean, Claire. I didn’t do anything,” he said quickly, as they both stood up. “Maybe I held up my hand protectively for one confused second, but then I just acted on instinct to get us all out of danger.”

Claire nodded slowly. His reply clearly disappointed her, but she seemed to accept it. “Okay.” Before she could say more, the kitchen supervisor appeared. He signed their detention slips, releasing them. They dropped their bags of gum in the trash and made their way to the door, where Claire paused, turning to him.

“Well, whatever happened, Alec, thank you again for what you did. I’m really, really grateful.” Unexpectedly, she wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug.

The action caught Alec totally off guard, and he froze again, his heart going wild. No one had
ever
hugged him before—except his parents, and that had been so long ago, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. “You’re … welcome,” he stammered, raising his arms and awkwardly hugging her back.

When she drew away, their gazes met briefly. He saw that her cheeks were as flushed as his felt, and there was a new expression on her face that seemed to mirror his own confusion.

“Bye,” she said quickly. Averting her eyes, she darted off without another word.

twelve