Sarah Rodriguez said as she circled him.
“Hola, Sarah,” he answered. He’d known Sarah most of his life and she’d always been sweet. He almost hated to see her grow up and join one of the groups. Maybe she’d be one of the few, like Lauren, who kept her own identity.
“My folks are having a belated New Year’s party this weekend. You coming with your folks?”
“If I get off work in time. I’m riding for the Kirkland ranch all weekend. He’ll have us working cattle until dark, but I’m not complaining. He pays great.”
The bell rang, and she started off. “See you, if you make it in.”
He waved back, thinking that with her three older brothers, she was comfortable talking to guys. Sarah was pretty, like her mother, with long midnight-black hair that hung down to her waist, but Lucas couldn’t help but think he was starting to prefer sunny blond hair that fell down straight without a hint of a curl and bangs long enough to shade eyes framed in glasses.
Lucas glanced across the cafeteria as Lauren left a table where she’d been studying alone. Despite the noise, she read her history book while she ate her sack lunch. Her blond hair had curtained her off from the world. He thought of catching up with her but decided not to.
Somehow in all the talk about what had happened at the Gypsy House last Saturday night, Lucas had fallen out of the picture. Reid Collins had told everyone about how he saved Tim and Lauren, about how they were trapped at one point, about how Tim almost died. But Lucas’s part in the whole thing must have gotten left on the cutting room floor.
He didn’t care. If kids knew he’d been there, they’d only ask him questions, and at some point, his account of the night and Reid’s would cross.
Better to let Reid tell the story. Tim wouldn’t be back at school for another week or more, and by then the topic would be past tense. Lauren was so shy, he was sure she wouldn’t talk about it. If Tim had any brains left, he would say he couldn’t remember how it all happened, so with luck the whole thing would be yesterday’s news very soon.
Lucas walked toward class, smiling. He’d remember the blood debt Lauren owed him. Maybe someday he’d tease her about it. And, he remembered kissing her. She was the first girl he’d really liked that he had kissed. He might be leaving after summer for college, but he’d remember Lauren long after he forgot everyone else at this school.
He rushed alone down the emptying hallway, feeling proud that he’d managed to stay out of any cliques. He saw no point to them. High school was only a passageway to what he wanted in life, nothing more.
To his surprise, Lauren caught up to him and fell into step beside him. For several seconds they just walked, but he slowed his pace a bit to match hers.
“I want to talk to you,” she finally said without looking at him. “The story of what happened Saturday night has changed so much I don’t even think I was there. Now Reid Collins claims Tim was hanging on by a thread, and we could all hear the ghosts whispering. I would have probably broken both legs in the fall from the window if he hadn’t caught me. And—”
“I know,” Lucas interrupted her. “According to Reid, I wasn’t even there. Which is fine with me.”
She stopped and turned to him. “But you were there. You saved my life. Reid can lie all he wants to, but I’ll never forget. I owe you a blood debt.”
“Let Reid’s legend live, querida. You and I will remember and that is enough.”
“Like the kiss at the hospital. Between you and me, right?”
“Right.” He smiled, remembering.
“It was the best kiss I ever had.” She laughed.
“It was the only one you’ve ever had,” he teased. “When I find you in a few years, I’ll ask you again how I compare and see where I stand then.”
She blushed and ran ahead of him into her class.
Lucas stood watching her disappear, knowing they were both late but not caring. She’d forget about him, but he’d remember Lauren. She’d be the only girl he’d ever call darling in any language. Funny thing was, Lauren would probably never know just how special she was.
“Reyes?” Mr. Paris, his math teacher, snapped. “Are you planning on joining us this afternoon?”
“Of course,” Lucas answered. “I’m sorry I’m late.”
He wasn’t sorry at all, but Mr. Paris didn’t need to know that. Being late because he was talking to a girl didn’t compute in the old guy’s world.
Yancy
YANCY GREY HAD worked ten days straight at the Evening Shadows Retirement Community and loved every minute. The first few evenings he’d cleaned out an old office that stood apart from the rest of the bungalows. The front of the building was lined with dirty windows with a long counter separating the lobby area from the back storage and living quarters. A tiny, windowless bedroom and bath ran across part of the back. The living quarters were barely wide enough to fit a full bed, but it was bigger than his cell had been.
Originally, in the ’50s, this place had been a motel, boasting that every cabin had a kitchen, bath and sun porch. Eventually, the sun porches had been enclosed to make living rooms, and the bungalows had been rented by the month. Oil field workers and seasonal farmhands had taken over the place, but the owner had never bothered repairing any of the buildings. Finally, he’d let them sell to pay his back taxes.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
