Part 2 (1/2)

”Where's your locker?” I dared to look at him. I was eager to dump him off at his next cla.s.s and be done with the whole charade.

He was smiling, although why, I wasn't sure. He didn't seem in a hurry, he seemed quite relaxed, his stroll slow and unhurried. Instantly my suspicion grew.

”I've never known anyone in such a hurry to get to cla.s.s.”

”Yeah, well, I take school very seriously.” Why did I have to sound like such a loser? Of course the moment that thought popped into my head, I wondered why I cared if this psycho thought I was lame.

”Here.” He tapped Savannah's old locker. The locker next to mine.

I froze, slightly horrified. ”What?”

He frowned. ”My locker. It's here. You all right?”

”Yeah, sure. Just...” I tried to judge his expression, to understand what he was feeling, if anything. It had been so long since I'd had to read someone based on their body language alone that I found it impossible to know. He looked normal, which was the problem. He didn't look guilty. Then again, maybe he wasn't. I'd heard the killer's thoughts, yet couldn't hear Lewis.

His dark brows raised in question. ”Just?”

”Your locker. The girl who died, Savannah, it was her locker.” I could barely get the words out, my voice sounded hollow and m.u.f.fled. I studied his face for a reaction, but saw only understanding in those blue eyes.

He nodded slowly. ”I see.”

But I didn't see. I didn't see how he could be so calm, act like he cared...unless he hadn't killed Savannah. Completely confused, I opened my locker and shoved my books inside, trying to focus on his thoughts yet again. Surely if he had killed her he'd be thinking about it right now, wouldn't he?

”Did you know her well?” he asked.

”Well enough that I didn't want her murdered,” I snapped, my voice harsher than I'd intended. I was angry, angry that I was attracted to a guy who could be a possible murderer, angry that I couldn't read his thoughts, angry that everyone in this d.a.m.n school was more worried about their own pathetic problems than the fact that a girl, a living, breathing girl, had died. I didn't know what I thought anymore.

”Where do you go next?” I murmured, feeling contrite. After all, I didn't know for sure. Maybe he hadn't murdered Savannah.

”English.”

I frowned, finding it odd that we were going to the same place. We were silent as we walked slowly to cla.s.s. I was trying to keep the frantic thoughts of my fellow students from entering my mind. I was way too tired to deal with my own thoughts, let alone everyone else's.

”I'm sorry about your friend,” he said and I felt like he meant it, but did he?

”It's all right, you didn't know.” The bell rang and the halls emptied. I grew nervous, realizing we were alone. Then again, if I screamed surely someone would hear me.

”Do they have any suspects?”

”No,” I said, wondering why he asked. Everything he said was cause for suspicion.

He paused near some benches and sat, looking thoughtful. I glanced down the hall at the cla.s.sroom door. I'd always been a good girl, never skipped cla.s.s, always did my homework, didn't smoke or drink...it felt odd knowing I'd be late, as if I was on a path to ruination.

”What's sad,” he started, breaking into my thoughts. ”Is that someone knows something.”

I shrugged. ”Yeah, the murderer. I'm sure he knows a lot.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps bulging. ”How do you know it's a he?”

Shoot. Heat shot straight to my cheeks. Because the voice in my head had been male. ”Most likely.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze on me the entire time. I found myself s.h.i.+fting under his scrutiny. Did he believe me? ”We really should get to cla.s.s; the princ.i.p.al likes to roam the halls.” It was a lie, but he didn't need to know that.

He grinned. ”You don't lie well.”

I stiffened, startled by his blunt comment. ”I'm not, I'm...”

He arched a dark brow.

I took a few steps back. ”Fine, I want to go to cla.s.s, so sue me. Are you coming or not?”

He didn't respond for a few moments, his gaze on the wall behind me, as if lost in thought. ”Yes, of course the murderer knows what happened.”

I sighed. Was he going back to that now? Why was he so interested in Savannah's death, unless he truly was the murderer? I pressed my fingers to my throbbing temples and took a step back, intending to leave him then and there. I had a feeling he was playing some odd game with me, and I'd never liked games.

”But what I meant,” he stood, looming over me. ”Was that usually there is someone else who knows what happened. Someone too afraid to tell the truth. And because of that, a murderer kills again, might even go free.”

He didn't look at me as he said the words, but started down the hall. So why then, did I suddenly feel totally guilty?

He turned, walking a few steps backward. ”It's too bad we can't, say, read minds.” He flashed a brilliant smile as my heart slammed erratically against my chest. He hadn't just said those words, had he? ”Then perhaps we'd know the killer's ident.i.ty.”

My insides froze; the world around me fading and all I could do was focus on him. He turned around and made his way into the cla.s.sroom, leaving me alone with my paranoid thoughts.

He knew. Oh G.o.d, he knew.

My stomach twisted and I pressed my hands to my belly. I would swear on my life he knew. But how much? Surely he didn't know about my powers. He couldn't know. I'd never told anyone. Unless Grandma had. Was this some sort of test from the old woman? I wouldn't put it past her. But that didn't explain why I couldn't read his mind. I swallowed hard and on trembling legs, I made my way toward cla.s.s.

There was only one other person whose mind I couldn't read... Grandma's. And that was because the old woman had learned to control her thoughts. What if...what if this Lewis...

No.

I froze outside the door and studied the cla.s.sroom through the small window. Lewis sat near the back, his gaze focused on the front of the room.

Could Lewis read minds too?

He turned his head and looked directly at me, basically answering my question.

I sank to the ground, my heart hammering wildly as I hid behind the wall. Oh dear G.o.d, and all this time I thought I was the only teenage freak.

Chapter 4.

”You sure they won't mind that I'm coming with you?” Annabeth was so nervous it was making my stomach roll. I really, really wished she'd keep her emotions to herself. I hadn't been this nervous since fifth grade, the day we'd moved here and my life had changed...for the better.

”They're not going to kick you out,” I said, slipping my arm through hers as we made our way up Emily's sidewalk. That was exactly what Annabeth was thinking they'd do. As if they'd scream she wasn't popular enough and toss her from the house. I almost laughed at the idea.

Heck, I wasn't even sure if Emily still wanted me to come to her party as she'd barely talked to me the past week. It was also the last time I'd talked to Lewis, even though, oddly, we had every cla.s.s together. Emily had been on him like a freaking tick on a deer. She was jealous I'd gotten to hang out with the hot new guy.