The Dark Divine
Page 48
Jude nodded. "When you're up to it, TT1 wait for you after school while you take your test. That way you won't have to walk home alone." He walked to the door, stopped, and looked back at me. "It's time to get out of bed, Gracie."
He knows. I know the truth about what happened to him ... and he knows.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," I said softly.
Jude nodded slightly and shut the door behind him.
After I heard Jude walk down the hall, I pulled the box and book out from under the blanket. I closed the lid over Katharine and her brother and locked the box in my desk drawer. I couldn't read any further. I couldn't search for answers anymore. I needed to drop the whole issue. Jude was moving on, and so was I.
Chapter Nineteen Choices
THURSDAY MORNING
I realized as Jude and I drove the few blocks to school in the numbing cold, that even though there was an understanding between us, we still weren't going to talk about it. Some things never change.
Maybe it's better that way.
Jude walked me to my locker and then took off to find April before first period. I tried to act natural, like this was just any other day and I was any other girl. But it was hard to pretend that I was normal.
Normal people gossiped--mostly about the strange things that had happened over the weekend. I'd hoped that the rumor mill would have died down during my three-day absence from school, but apparently it was still running full tilt. Word had spread about Jenny Wilson finding her mangled cat in the middle of her cul-de-sac. Other people talked about Daniel rescuing James in the woods. They whispered about Jude's accusations. And I got the distinct feeling people were also talking about me--more than the usual, that is.
Normal people passed the flyers plastered around the school of Jessica Day's class picture from Central High. They'd look at her long blonde hair and her big doe like eyes and shake their heads, saying, "What a shame." But normal people didn't know what danger she may really be in. They didn't know what horrors really existed in this world. They had no idea there was a werewolf in my AP art class.
How would everyone else react if they knew that truth?
Would they accuse Daniel of being the new Markham Street Monster? Would they blame him for all the bad things that had happened lately?
I stopped mid stride on my way to fourth-period art. Did I believe any of those things? I told myself that it couldn't be true. Daniel had that necklace, so even if he went into wolf mode he'd be able to stop the monster from hurting people. Wouldn't he? There had to be another explanation.
Or maybe that necklace didn't work as well as he and my dad thought. Or perhaps it did work--perhaps Daniel was fully conscious when he did those things...
I stood outside the art room until long after the bell rang. I knew that Daniel was in there. Enough people had been talking about him for me to know he'd shown up for school. I wished he hadn't. I took three deep breaths. Daniel wouldn't hurt those people if he was in his right mind. There was definitely another explanation--and it wasn't my job to figure it out. Someone else could play Velma from now on.
I pushed the door open and went straight for Barlow's desk. I put my tree sketch in front of him and didn't wait for any comment before I went to the back of the room for my supply bucket. Lynn and Jenny stopped talking as I approached. Lynn shot me a sidelong glance and then said something to Jenny behind her hand. I ignored them and pulled my watercolors out of my bucket. I could feel Daniel's presence only a few yards away; I could smell his earthy-almond scent even with all the oil solvents and chalk dust fingering in the air, hut I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I grabbed the rest of what I needed and joined April at our table.
"I called you, like, ten times," April said. She didn't look at me as she drew sharp, angled lines in her sketch pad. "You could have at least emailed me back or something."
"You're right." I opened my box of pastels and dumped out the chalk bits on the table. I'd forgotten that most of them were broken. "I'm sorry."
"So are you over it?" April nodded slightly toward Daniel.
"Yeah." I picked up a red pastel bit. It was too small to draw with effectively. "I think so."
"Good." April put her charcoal pencil down. "Jude says Daniel is a bad influence on you."
"What else does Jude say these days?" I asked.
She sighed. "He's upset that your dad keeps trying to get him to be friends with Daniel. Your dad says Jude should just forgive and forget, and be happy Daniel's back," April shook her head. "I don't get it. I mean, Jude's his real son. Why would he even want Daniel here?"
"I don't know," I mumbled. My mind flitted back to that book of letters in my bedroom. "Has Jude said anything else?" I asked, wondering how much April really knew about any of this. April shrugged. "He invited me to the Monet exhibit at the university tomorrow night."
"That's sweet." I inspected another broken pastel. It was just as useless as the first.
"Yeah, but my mom won't let me go because it's in the city. It's like she suddenly cares about me after what happened to Jessica Day or something." April crinkled her nose. "I think we're just going to have a movie fest at my house. You can come, too, if you want."
"No. But thanks anyway." I'd seen enough of Jude and April snuggling to last me a lifetime. April pulled her box of pastels from her supply bucket and slid it in front of me. "You can borrow mine if you want." April gave me a small smile. "I really am glad you're better now."
"Thanks," I said. But I glanced back at Daniel. His gaze was shifted away from us, but from the look on his face it seemed like he'd been listening to our entire conversation from across the room. That didn't make me feel better at all.
LATER THAT SAME DAY
Daniel had asked me to spend my lunch breaks and after school with him and Barlow. I doubted that offer still stood--or that he'd actually expect me to stay now--and I cleared out to the library when the lunch bell rang, refusing April's offer to join her and Jude at the cafe. I stayed until it was time to go back after lunch. When fifth period was over, I took off as quickly as I could for my next class.
"Wait up, Grace," Pete Bradshaw called as I approached my locker.
"Hey, Pete." I slowed my pace.
He knows. I know the truth about what happened to him ... and he knows.
"I'm sorry I didn't listen to you," I said softly.
Jude nodded slightly and shut the door behind him.
After I heard Jude walk down the hall, I pulled the box and book out from under the blanket. I closed the lid over Katharine and her brother and locked the box in my desk drawer. I couldn't read any further. I couldn't search for answers anymore. I needed to drop the whole issue. Jude was moving on, and so was I.
Chapter Nineteen Choices
THURSDAY MORNING
I realized as Jude and I drove the few blocks to school in the numbing cold, that even though there was an understanding between us, we still weren't going to talk about it. Some things never change.
Maybe it's better that way.
Jude walked me to my locker and then took off to find April before first period. I tried to act natural, like this was just any other day and I was any other girl. But it was hard to pretend that I was normal.
Normal people gossiped--mostly about the strange things that had happened over the weekend. I'd hoped that the rumor mill would have died down during my three-day absence from school, but apparently it was still running full tilt. Word had spread about Jenny Wilson finding her mangled cat in the middle of her cul-de-sac. Other people talked about Daniel rescuing James in the woods. They whispered about Jude's accusations. And I got the distinct feeling people were also talking about me--more than the usual, that is.
Normal people passed the flyers plastered around the school of Jessica Day's class picture from Central High. They'd look at her long blonde hair and her big doe like eyes and shake their heads, saying, "What a shame." But normal people didn't know what danger she may really be in. They didn't know what horrors really existed in this world. They had no idea there was a werewolf in my AP art class.
How would everyone else react if they knew that truth?
Would they accuse Daniel of being the new Markham Street Monster? Would they blame him for all the bad things that had happened lately?
I stopped mid stride on my way to fourth-period art. Did I believe any of those things? I told myself that it couldn't be true. Daniel had that necklace, so even if he went into wolf mode he'd be able to stop the monster from hurting people. Wouldn't he? There had to be another explanation.
Or maybe that necklace didn't work as well as he and my dad thought. Or perhaps it did work--perhaps Daniel was fully conscious when he did those things...
I stood outside the art room until long after the bell rang. I knew that Daniel was in there. Enough people had been talking about him for me to know he'd shown up for school. I wished he hadn't. I took three deep breaths. Daniel wouldn't hurt those people if he was in his right mind. There was definitely another explanation--and it wasn't my job to figure it out. Someone else could play Velma from now on.
I pushed the door open and went straight for Barlow's desk. I put my tree sketch in front of him and didn't wait for any comment before I went to the back of the room for my supply bucket. Lynn and Jenny stopped talking as I approached. Lynn shot me a sidelong glance and then said something to Jenny behind her hand. I ignored them and pulled my watercolors out of my bucket. I could feel Daniel's presence only a few yards away; I could smell his earthy-almond scent even with all the oil solvents and chalk dust fingering in the air, hut I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I grabbed the rest of what I needed and joined April at our table.
"I called you, like, ten times," April said. She didn't look at me as she drew sharp, angled lines in her sketch pad. "You could have at least emailed me back or something."
"You're right." I opened my box of pastels and dumped out the chalk bits on the table. I'd forgotten that most of them were broken. "I'm sorry."
"So are you over it?" April nodded slightly toward Daniel.
"Yeah." I picked up a red pastel bit. It was too small to draw with effectively. "I think so."
"Good." April put her charcoal pencil down. "Jude says Daniel is a bad influence on you."
"What else does Jude say these days?" I asked.
She sighed. "He's upset that your dad keeps trying to get him to be friends with Daniel. Your dad says Jude should just forgive and forget, and be happy Daniel's back," April shook her head. "I don't get it. I mean, Jude's his real son. Why would he even want Daniel here?"
"I don't know," I mumbled. My mind flitted back to that book of letters in my bedroom. "Has Jude said anything else?" I asked, wondering how much April really knew about any of this. April shrugged. "He invited me to the Monet exhibit at the university tomorrow night."
"That's sweet." I inspected another broken pastel. It was just as useless as the first.
"Yeah, but my mom won't let me go because it's in the city. It's like she suddenly cares about me after what happened to Jessica Day or something." April crinkled her nose. "I think we're just going to have a movie fest at my house. You can come, too, if you want."
"No. But thanks anyway." I'd seen enough of Jude and April snuggling to last me a lifetime. April pulled her box of pastels from her supply bucket and slid it in front of me. "You can borrow mine if you want." April gave me a small smile. "I really am glad you're better now."
"Thanks," I said. But I glanced back at Daniel. His gaze was shifted away from us, but from the look on his face it seemed like he'd been listening to our entire conversation from across the room. That didn't make me feel better at all.
LATER THAT SAME DAY
Daniel had asked me to spend my lunch breaks and after school with him and Barlow. I doubted that offer still stood--or that he'd actually expect me to stay now--and I cleared out to the library when the lunch bell rang, refusing April's offer to join her and Jude at the cafe. I stayed until it was time to go back after lunch. When fifth period was over, I took off as quickly as I could for my next class.
"Wait up, Grace," Pete Bradshaw called as I approached my locker.
"Hey, Pete." I slowed my pace.
