The 52nd (The 52nd Saga Book 1) (11 page)

His lips sealed with a pinch, and he looked downward. “How’s your
hand?”

I glanced at my hand and let out a slow breath of astonishment. The swelling and redness were gone, and the knuckles were bony again.
That’s weird
. I twisted my hand and made fists over and over again. Just an hour ago it was a yellow
plum.

“It’s, uh, better,” I
said.

“I see that.” His bushy eyebrows were raised, but not in a pleased
way.

I tucked my hand under my other arm, out of his view, and nodded. “So what’s the deal with
you?”

His blue eyes moved to the burgundy book on my lap. “Find anything interesting?”

“I haven’t really read it
yet.”

“I had one similar years ago. But it’s all fake, only
legend.”

I didn’t understand why his attempts to discredit Mae’s book vexed me so badly, but they made my blood sizzle. Disagreeing with Lucas would probably always be the
norm.

“How do you know?” I asked stubbornly, petting the rough
cover.

“Because, I told you, I had one just like that, but I lost
it.”

“That can’t be true. I think this is the only
copy.”

“No, there were more.” His voice held a hint of dishonesty. I stopped, perturbed by his arrogance. It was insulting. Did he really think I was that gullible?

I packed the book back into my bag and zipped it shut. “Listen, Lucas, now that this whole report thing is over, we don’t have to pretend to be nice anymore. I have my own thing going, and you
clearly
have your own agenda as well. Okay?”

“Okay
what?”

“Stop talking to
me.”

He folded his arms and laughed, amused yet again. “What’s my
agenda?”

“Don’t know, don’t
care.”

He leaned in close enough to let the curl of his dark eyelashes send my body into shivers, and he flashed a closed smirk. “Oh, Zara, but you should. Deeply.”

I stared at him as I inched as far away from him as possible, and I turned my back and leaned toward the professor. As class ended, I watched Lucas leave without a good-bye or a glance or a wave. Maybe ignoring him would mend our fake relationship.

When I stepped outside, the last cold breezes of the storm had covered the parking lot with rust-colored leaves. I breathed in. The crisp air finally smelled like autumn. I sat in the wagon with the windows rolled down and studied my hand, baffled that there was no sign of
injury.

As I drove home, my thoughts turned to Lucas, as they usually did lately. After the report disaster, there was no way I was going to trust him. Then I remembered that Gabriella was coming with us to Reno. I squeezed the wheel tighter, hating that she would probably report everything I did to her stupid, hot brother.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Night Games

The next day, I forgot about Lucas long enough to get laundry done. In between loads, I helped Mom bake an apple pie. As I packed the last of the necessities for beautifying myself for Reno, I glanced down. My duffel bag was overflowing with every item I owned. I zipped it anyway, shifted my hip to the side, and yanked it up, yelling bye to Mom and Dad as I opened the front
door.

Lucas was standing on the porch, dressed all in black. When he smiled wide, I saw straight, gleaming teeth. It was heart-jerking, yet irritating that he could be so beautiful. It wasn’t
fair.

“Are you here to kidnap me?” I
joked.

All pretense of happiness left him. His face went blank, and his body
tensed.

Well, that didn’t work.
“What are you doing here, Lucas?” I asked as I shoved past
him.

“I’m
sorry.”

“For?” A memory of him at the accident surfaced, though I pretended I hadn’t a clue. He’d denied it completely, been a jerk to me all along. Suddenly I felt he shouldn’t be apologizing, he should be
explaining
, starting with how he knew where I
lived.

“For not being straightforward with you. Here.” He pushed a rose toward me. The stem was wild with thorns; blood red rimmed each petal over a solid white bloom. It was perfect. I looked back up. Underneath his dark lashes I saw grief, and exhaustion again, as though he hadn’t slept in
days.

“What’s this?” I
asked.

“It’s a rose,” he said, managing a snarky smirk. “You know, most girls would take it and say it’s okay . . . or throw it in the guy’s
face.”

“I’m not like most
girls.”

He snickered. “Trust me, I
know.”

“Do you? Because you didn’t seem to care when I tried to work on the report with you. And why the hell do I feel like you’re always lying to
me?”

He shrugged. Now he looked as though he really didn’t care. “Zara, nothing can excuse how I may come
across.”

“You’re right, but an explanation would, starting with this rose.” I swung it like a magic
wand.

“If I could, I would, but I can’t,” he pleaded.

“What do you
mean?”

His hand fidgeted around in his pocket. “Look, I didn’t come here to disturb
you.”

“Are you going to explain the roses in my
room?”

“What do you
mean?”

I shook my head at him, incredulous. The boy had a lying problem. I mean, he was only offering me one of the same flowers I’d found in my room. I gripped my bag and walked past
him.

He turned after me. “I was hungry. Thought you might like to go grab a bite to
eat.”

“Are you asking me out?” I laughed.

It was hard to act tough when my bag was digging into the bones of my shoulder. It slowed me down. I tried to push it along with my hip, but it started to hurt, and I stopped and dumped it to the
ground.

“No!” His voice was high, playing it off. “No,” he repeated, though it sounded like he was reassuring himself. And then he sighed, looking at the grass. “No.”

I raised my eyebrows, waiting for an explanation.

He glanced up, looking innocently—subtly—through his dark lashes. “So?”

“I can’t. I’m going out with the girls tonight. Your sister is coming with us, didn’t you know
that?”

“No, of course I did. But there’s been a change in
plans.”

“What?” My voice jumped an octave when my cell vibrated in my pocket. “It’s
Bri.”

Lucas watched as I listened to Bri ramble on in one long sentence. Tommy and the rest of the boys wanted us to go play night games with them, and of course Bri had accepted. Everyone was to meet at Bri’s house at
dark.

“You were right,” I said, dropping the duffel bag at my feet. “Ever played night
games?”

“What’s
that?”

“I’ll explain while we eat,” I
said.

As I levered up my bag, which now seemed to be full of cement, Lucas snatched it away, disregarding my nasty rejection, and carried it effortlessly to the
house.

I walked to his expensive car, shocked that I’d actually agreed to go with him. When I sat down inside, it was like being on a beach, smelling the ocean. It was very clean, and the light gray leather still looked brand new. I looked around. The buttons on the dashboard were all futuristic looking compared to my
wagon.

“Where are we going?” he asked, sliding noiselessly into his
seat.

“Hamburgers?”

I had a ten-dollar bill folded in my back pocket; it would buy me one bacon cheeseburger, fries, and a drink at Lamplight’s Diner. I was impressed when he said he didn’t need directions. Then again, Tahoe wasn’t that
big.

We drove to the pier’s strip mall in a silent bubble, mainly because our togetherness was awkward. Last time we were here, he’d caught me as I fell. I kept thinking of the phrase
Boy meets girl, boy likes girl, girl hates boy, girl likes boy
, wondering strangely if the last part would happen. Luckily, Lamplight’s Diner was only a few minutes away, a few stores down from Mae’s library, and we arrived there before I said something
dumb.

When he pulled into the small parking lot, I watched people at the lake docking their boats amid the long, towering shadows cast by the setting sun. Lamplight’s filled the larger space in the back corner of the mall. It was still a small diner, but they had a fairly decent patio on stilts over the water. I usually sat
there.

Lucas and I followed our hostess through the restaurant, past the vintage streetlamps set at each booth, to our table outside. The air was cooler over the lake—a crisp chill that gave me a running shiver. I slipped my cardigan on and sat down. The waitress lit the gas heat lamp next to our table, letting her eyes wander to Lucas frequently.

“So, what are night games?” Lucas asked, looking away toward the
lake.

My spirits lifted, despite my annoyance with the server’s obvious stare, and I couldn’t help but smile. “Are you ready to run a
lot?”

He sipped his water, clearly suppressing a laugh. The sunset sparkled in his eyes when he looked back up. And then I noticed his beard—it had to have been a week’s worth of growth, but he’d just shaved yesterday.
That’s strange.

“Don’t worry about me,” he said, smiling still, letting me dissect him in my
mind.

I reminded myself to look past his unblemished handsomeness, past the butterflies now fluttering in my stomach. The waitress cleared her throat. I looked up, but I could feel his eyes on
me.

“Two bacon cheeseburgers, two fries, and two strawberry shakes,” Lucas
said.

The waitress and I simultaneously looked at
him.

“That is what you were going to order, right?” he
asked.

I shook my head silently.

“You got it,” the waitress said, walking away with her head down as she scribbled.

When she had disappeared, I started explaining. “The first thing you need to do is wear all black”—I briefly looked down at his clothes—“which, apparently, you already are. Then we split into two teams. One team runs, the other finds. Usually we start at Bri’s and finish at the gondolas over at Heavenly. The finders’ team will give the running team a five-minute head start. Their goal is to run on foot to Heavenly without getting caught. The team that makes it there with the most players wins. And, I also should tell you that anything goes: backyards, alleys, you name
it.”

He seemed very interested, though with a wise smirk. “Why all
black?”

“Because you can blend in with the night.” Duh.

“Ahh,” he exhaled, his smirk turning to an amused
smile.

I wondered what his secret humor meant as minutes passed in silence. Lucas let me be, looking around at other tables or toward the mountains across the lake until the waitress set the greasy food in front of
us.

“Anything else?” she asked
Lucas.

“No, thank
you.”

Lucas seemed too polite for someone my age. Normally my friends would just grunt, or look down until the server eventually walked away, recognizing they were being ignored. I liked his manners—it meant I wasn’t feeling embarrassed, the way I always was with my guy friends.

I remembered something important as I shoved a fry into my mouth. “Oh, and I should probably warn you: Tommy and Jett can get a little crazy. They’ve been known to drive the truck on sidewalks and lawns to find someone.”

He watched as I loaded my hamburger with ketchup, then leaned in. “That was going to be my next question. How do you guys see in the
dark?”

“The cars’ headlights mainly, but Jett has a searchlight, so watch out for that. And sometimes they’ll get out and chase you down on foot with a flashlight.”

“Right.” His smile appeared again. “So, have you ever made it to the
end?”

It wasn’t hard to catch the sarcasm in his question. I frowned.
I don’t look that helpless, do I?
“Only once. I always get outrun if I’m being chased on foot. But if they’re in the cars, you can hide behind bushes or
fences.”

He nodded, somehow gloriously. “Got
it.”

I looked down and shoved another french fry into my mouth. “It’s easier said than done,” I assured
him.

“I think I can handle it.” There was a tint of laughter in his
voice.

I watched as he took his first bite. The juices ran down the burger to his hand, then splattered onto his plate. It was interesting watching Lucas get dirty. He was somehow the cleanest person I knew, even if he did always seem to have scruff on his
chin.

“Do you like it?” I asked hopefully.

“Very
good.”

Lucas’s hair spiked messily upward, a dark terrain that seemed untouchable. It was stunning how his short sideburns moved halfway down his ear, drawing my eyes to his defined jaw. I looked around at other tables impulsively. My suspicions were confirmed when old ladies giggled in our direction a few tables down. I rolled my eyes and looked back to Lucas, who hadn’t moved his eyes from
me.

“So, you never told me . . .” I began, but he pointed a finger to his cheek and
tapped.

“Oh!”

My free hand instantly flew up and found ketchup on my cheek. I was sure my cheeks flushed the same color as I wiped it off. I looked down, embarrassed, and noticed his hamburger, or what was left of it after a few
bites.

“Are you even well enough to be running after your blackout?” he
asked.

I looked back up quickly. “Lucas, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you any of that. It’s so stupid . . .”

“Saying I’m glad you did,” he interrupted, “would be an understatement.”

“What do you
mean?”

His gaze dropped suddenly. “Your hand’s all
better.”

“I’ve been healing fast lately,” I joked. He didn’t
laugh.

“Is that
normal?”

“Not really. But when I got home from the hospital, my injuries went away really fast. And now these ones did
too.”

His stare lingered before he spoke. “What do you remember about that
night?”

My heart picked up. The memory of Lucas yelling outside my shattered window flashed through my mind. “I . . .” I was suddenly confused.
Why is he asking me this when he denied it?
“Why are you curious all of a
sudden?”

“For starters, you’re welcome.”

“For what?” I asked, perplexed.

The sunset silhouetted his straight nose perfectly. His face was carved stone, symmetrical and perfect. He leaned in closely. “For saving you that
night.”

There was a bump as my stomach dropped to my feet. “I knew it,” I whispered. “But why do you want to know what I remembered? You were
there.”

“It’s not the
same.”

I leaned in with chills. “I don’t care what you say. I know you saw what I
saw.”

He sat up straight. “You weren’t supposed to remember anything,” he mumbled under his breath, looking at his glass as if he were talking to it. When he glanced back up he looked more confused than I felt. “But you’re healing really fast. It doesn’t work like
that.”

“What are you talking about? You’re freaking me
out.”

He scooted his chair closer. “Zara, don’t you think if I were any other person, I would look past the quick healing and say that it was just that you heal fast? Nobody heals that fast; it’s unnatural.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“And your blackouts are not right, either.” He looked away. “It shouldn’t be like this—if you were
normal.”

“Earth to Lucas: you’re scaring me. And two, the sun is almost down. We better pay and get
going.”

The mountains across the lake had become black peaks against the streaked colors of the sunset. I couldn’t talk about what I saw in my blackout to anyone, especially Lucas. He must have realized I wasn’t going to say anything more, because he lifted his head in a regal fashion and with two fingers motioned for the waitress to come. She was at his side, batting her eyes, in three seconds. It was pathetic.

“More water?” she asked
him.

“No, thank you. We are ready for our
bill.”

She looked disappointed. As she fidgeted with her apron, I looked back toward the sunset. The gnats flittered over the water in busy, transparent
clouds.

“Here you go. And please, let me know if I can get you anything else,” she
said.

She clung to the folder. As her hand lingered on the black leather, it tempted my jealousy, and I felt my rage brewing again. When Lucas’s eyes left her to scan the bill, I somehow felt
better.

I pulled out my ten, but before I could get it inside, Lucas slipped a fifty into the folder and
stood.

“That won’t be necessary,” he said, waving my money
away.

“Thank you.” I felt foolish putting my money back into my pocket, but something told me he wouldn’t take it
anyway.

I rubbed my hands along my arms to warm them as we walked back to the car. Thanks to its altitude, Tahoe always cooled by around fifteen degrees at night. My shivering deepened in my thin sweater, and my teeth actually chattered as I waited for him to unlock his
Lexus.

“You cold?” Lucas
asked.

“A little,” I answered, trying not to sound needy as I sat down on the firm leather seat. “You?”