Home > The Vision (The Mark #2)(25)

The Vision (The Mark #2)(25)
Author: Jen Nadol

“This might not help much,” I started, straining to keep my voice steady. I needed to offer him something, some small atonement. “But I think it’s okay to believe the best about people, especially after they’re gone. I didn’t know your dad, but I bet he loved you and, however your last conversation with him went, I bet he knew you loved him, too.”

Nick was silent and I winced, sure he was going to ream me out for going off like I was some kind of authority on his feelings or his dad’s. A minute that felt like a hundred passed quietly and I finally hazarded a glance up.

He was biting his lip again and looking down at the table.

I stood, collecting my things as quickly and smoothly as I could, my face burning with shame and guilt.

I had taken only a step, on tiptoes, wishing for an invisibility cloak, when Nick said, “Hey.”

He reached out and his hand brushed my arm so lightly I saw rather than felt his touch whisper across the sleeve of my sweater. His eyes held mine for just the second it took him to say “Thanks.”

I nodded and left him alone at the table, wishing I felt like I deserved it.

I trudged through the rest of the day in a funk, barely able to be glad when it was over. Liv found me at one point, bounding down the hall, positively giddy. TREND had just called—she’d gotten the job. I forced a smile and congrats. Fortunately, she was too excited to notice how weak both were.

I’d taken my cell out of my backpack after leaving Nick at the library, thinking I’d text Jack. It was purely instinct. I couldn’t really tell him why I was upset, even if I felt desperately that he might be the one person whose reassurance could help me feel less like a monster. The delicate weight of the phone pulled on my pocket now as I stood by my locker after last bell, mindlessly wrapping a scarf around my neck. I didn’t even notice Zander standing two feet away until the kid next to me, some freshman with shiny braces, slammed his door shut and clomped off.

“Hey,” Zander said, leaning casually against the wall of lockers.

My heart could hardly muster an extra thump-thump. He was hot as ever, but the weight of what I’d done to Nick sapped me of the patience for boy-girl games. “Hey.” I shrugged on my wool coat and nudged the locker door closed.

“I saw you at church with your boyfriend.”

I looked up at him and frowned. This was exactly the kind of b.s. I wasn’t in the mood for. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“No?” A small smile teased the corners of Zander’s lips.

“No,” I answered firmly. “We work together. He’s a friend.”

“Hmm,” Zander said, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully, looking smug and superior. “I wonder if he’d say the same thing.”

I didn’t answer. This was a pointless conversation that I wasn’t going to prolong. I turned my back on him and started walking.

“So,” he said, trailing me down the hall. “What were you doing at my church?”

“The same thing as you,” I said, not looking at him. “Singing, praying, kneeling. You know, worshipping God and all.”

“Yes. I saw that,” he said, taking two long strides and stepping in front of me, so that I almost bumped into him. “What I meant is: why? You don’t go to my church.”

I crossed my arms, staring up at him and hating the way my pulse raced even though he was appallingly arrogant. “How do you know? Maybe you’ve just never seen me there before.”

“Oh, my mistake. So do you go to my church?”

“No.” I flushed slightly. “But I am Greek. It is the kind of church I’d go to. You don’t own the rights to it, you know.”

I started walking again, maneuvering around Zander, who neatly stepped to the side and matched my pace. He walked uncomfortably close. Or maybe too comfortably close. “Didja like it?”

I shot him a quick, wary look, but it seemed like a genuine question. “It was interesting,” I said, electing a genuine answer. “I didn’t notice anyone with you. Do you go alone?”

“Sometimes,” Zander answered vaguely. “How was it interesting?”

“Well …” I didn’t know much about Zander, but people are touchy about their beliefs, even people you’d never expect to care. “There was a good feeling,” I told him carefully, realizing only as I spoke how true it was. “In the group, the community, I guess. It felt … comfortable, like I belonged, kind of.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I’ve never spent much time with Greeks. Back in Pennsylvania, you know, it was just me and my grandmother. She didn’t go to church …” I was rambling. Like an idiot. “Anyway,” I said, more decisively, “that part was nice.”

“But …?”

“Well, some of the ceremony and the outfits and the church itself, the … decorations or whatever you call it …”

“The icons? The gold? The crosses?”

“Yeah, all of that. It’s a bit much.”

“You think?” He smiled impishly and I couldn’t help but smile back. His grin made me feel warm and a little light-headed, the way I’d always felt around Jack, except that there was something protective about Jack. Zander felt nearly the opposite of safe.

“Do you go every week?” I asked, waving as we passed Erin at her locker. She stared at us, her eyebrows raised.

“No,” Zander said. “Only when I feel like it.”

“Isn’t that a sin?” The Orthodox, like the Catholics, were strict about the rituals.

“I suppose it is,” he said, smirking devilishly. “Certainly not my first.”

I couldn’t tell if it was just me or if everything he said was laced with innuendo, but my face felt too hot again. We’d reached the doors at the end of the hall that led to the rear exit of the school. I heard them rattle, felt the chilled air through the crack, and tightened my coat around me. “Well,” I said, giving Zander a quick smile. “I’ll see you.”

“Let me give you a ride home.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” I said way more casually than I felt. “Thanks, though.” I took a step toward the door, already knowing he wasn’t going to let me go.

“What? Are you afraid of me?”

There was a playfulness in his voice, but something else underneath. Something that told me maybe I should be afraid. Of the way people talked about him, the things they called him. Demetria flashed, unwarranted, in my thoughts. “Should I be?” I faced him, folding my arms across my chest.

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