Never to Sleep. Rachel Vincent

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Never to Sleep - Rachel  Vincent

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next week.”

      “Senior?” He was tall. Nicely built. He could be a senior.

      “Junior. You?”

      “Sophomore. But only for the next couple of months.” Then school would be out for the summer, and I’d return as the first ever junior-year captain of the Eastlake dance team. “So, what were you doing in there?” I asked, glancing past the door that had nearly killed me into the empty history classroom beyond.

      “Looking for a little excitement.”

      “Did you find it?”

      “I have now.” He looked right into my eyes again, and again I wondered what he was looking for. “I feel bad about nearly killing you with a door. Let me make it up to you? I could carry this box full of hard-core sports attire…wherever you’re taking it.”

      “No, that’s okay.” Like I was gonna let the pretty new boy anywhere near Peyton before I’d had a chance to thoroughly stake my claim.

      “Since I’m the one who gave you this bump…” He brushed hair back from my forehead, and I winced when his fingers touched a tender spot just above my temple. “I think you should let me do the heavy lifting, until you’re fully recovered.”

      Well, if you insist… My afternoon was looking better already.

      I smiled at him. “I’m still a little dizzy. Who knows how long that could take?”

      “I’ll clear my schedule.” He replaced the shirt that had fallen out and picked up the box. “Which way?”

      “Take the next right, and head straight for the double doors.”

      We were almost to the hallway junction when Luca stopped in the middle of the floor. His eyes narrowed at nothing, then closed entirely, and when they opened, he looked…cautious. Like he’d seen something or heard something weird. Or like he’d felt a draft. But all I could hear were some locker door squeals and muted voices from around the corner, and I couldn’t see anything but an empty stretch of hall in front of us. And there was no breeze.

      “Yeah. Let’s go this way.” He took my arm and started to turn back the way we’d come.

      I pulled loose from his grip. “The gym’s that way.”

      “Is there another route?” He frowned at the intersection behind me, and I turned to look again, but there was nothing there—just the junction of two hallways, with a set of restrooms on opposite corners.

      “Only if we go around the whole building. Are you okay?”

      “Yeah.” Luca fell into step beside me again, reluctantly this time, and I took a critical sideways glance at him. He was beyond gorgeous. But Eastlake High was full of pretty people who acted like total freaks. I blame the local water supply. Which was why I drank bottled water.

      Still, Luca was new, and he was hot, and he was the first guy who’d looked at me with something more interesting than pity in his eyes since my mom died and my boyfriend was committed to a mental institution. If the universe was finally throwing me a bone—and let’s be honest, it owed me the whole damn skeleton, after the year I’d had—I wasn’t going to throw it back without at least taking a good look at the offering.

      We turned the corner, and I glanced up when the voices I’d heard fell into a sudden hush. There were only a few people left in this corridor, and they were all staring at a couple in the middle of the math hall, making out like they were trying to swallow each other whole.

      I didn’t recognize the guy’s pale curls or athletic build, but I would have known her anywhere. Thin, curveless body that she didn’t know how to showcase to its own advantage. Plain, thick brown hair that could be pretty, if she’d use a decent conditioner or let me flatiron it. But she never did, so I’d stopped asking when I was twelve, and I realized it’d be easier to pretend I didn’t know her than to try to explain how she could be so mousy when we sprang from the same genetic line.

      “Who is that?” Luca whispered, and I had to swallow a groan. Of course the first things he’d see at Eastlake were me, flat on my butt with a bruise rising on my forehead—not my finest hour—and Kaylee, starring in yet another public spectacle.

      I shook my head. “I’ve never seen him before, but she’s my cousin. And that is not her boyfriend. I swear, she is such a closet slut.” She’d gotten double detention for public display with Nash two days ago.

      Luca glanced at me with upraised brows. “Looks like the closet’s open.”

      “Great.” The only thing worse than a quiet, crazy cousin was a slutty, skanky cousin with an exhibitionist streak. At least Peyton knew how to keep her secrets secret.

      For the millionth time, I wished my parents had let me change my last name so people would stop mistaking me and Kaylee for sisters. That’s all I’d wanted for my thirteenth birthday, and those little-girl diamond heart earrings were a poor substitute.

      A second later, Nash and his creepy, goth-freak friend stepped around a corner on the other end of the hall and stopped cold, staring just like we were. I couldn’t decide whether to stick around for the fireworks, or run from the drama before I became collateral damage by association. Again.

      “Kaylee?” Nash said, and my cousin and the mystery hottie jumped apart like someone had lit a fire at their feet.

      I ducked into a classroom doorway, behind a row of lockers, and Luca glanced at me in surprise. “That’s her boyfriend. At the end of the hall, with the scary brunette.”

      Luca stared down the hall again, and when the shouting started, I grabbed his arm and pulled him around the corner with me. “You’re right. Let’s go this way.” I started back the way we’d come and he fell into step beside me, still carrying my box, as the drama behind us grew louder and even more embarrassing.

      “I take it you’re not close to your cousin?” Luca said, watching me with those beautiful eyes.

      “I’m close to never speaking to her again. Does that count?”

      “Why? What’d she do?”

      “You mean other than the Jerry Springer-worthy public display back there? She lived with me until this year—her own dad didn’t even want her around for, like, thirteen years—and she’s been trying to wreck my life since junior high.”

      “With serial public displays of affection?”

      “No, that’s a recent development.” Thank goodness. “Kaylee’s kind of…unbalanced.”

      “Meaning, she falls over a lot?”

      “Ha-ha. She’s nuts. My eighth grade dance recital? We had to leave before my solo because Kaylee had this stupid panic attack.”

      “A panic attack?”

      “She was totally faking. She just started screaming at the top of her lungs, for no reason at all, and everyone stared at us, and my dad had to carry her out like a baby. Every time she does it, they fuss over her like she’s all fragile, when it’s my life she’s turning into a public tragedy every time she opens her mouth.”

      “And

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