Secret (14 page)

‘
Quinn
.’

‘Did you make out at least?’

He sighed along her skin.

Quinn made a low sound and snuggled closer. ‘You really like him, don’t you?’

He didn’t answer. Honestly, he still didn’t know if he’d been relieved to get Quinn’s call, putting an end to the night, or disappointed that it had cut their time short. He felt so unprepared to be with a guy, like he only knew the choreography for one dance step, and this was a completely different type of music.

God, he couldn’t even fool himself. Disappointed. He’d been disappointed.

He’d never lost control like that before. His life was always about fulfilling expectations. Spending a few minutes acting on instinct — he’d never felt anything like it. He couldn’t wait to feel like that again.

Quinn lifted her head and looked up at him. ‘You
do
really like him. I know you do. I could tell the instant you saw him at the studio.’

‘I’m glad I’m so transparent.’

‘You’re not transparent. He’s just like that. Magnetic.
Everyone
likes Adam.’

Nick blew another line of breath along her arm, drawing the burn out, feeling the skin rebuild.
Everyone likes Adam
. Quinn’s voice had changed when she’d dropped the words.

Nick realigned what he’d learned from the evening, Adam’s gentle teasing, his easy comfort with who he was. They’d shared a moment. More than a moment — Nick had trusted him with the biggest secret of his life.
You’re safe here
.

With a start, he realized that Adam’s one-liners could have been the same kind of practiced words that Nick dropped on unsuspecting girls.

He’d rushed into this with his emotions exposed and bare. He’d fallen for Adam’s quiet confidence, his dedication to dance and school, and his singular focus on what he wanted. Nick had been all instinct and feeling and passion. Adam had been controlled.
In
control.

You’re going to break my heart. I can feel it
.

God, repeating it to himself now, it felt like such a line.

‘Yowch!’ Quinn said, sitting up straight and yanking her arm away. ‘Holy crap, Nick!’

‘Sorry,’ he muttered. ‘Here. I’ll be more careful.’

‘No — actually — I think it’s fine.’ She held her wrist out, running a finger along the smooth skin. ‘You’re amazing.’

‘Amazing,’ he echoed. ‘Yeah. Right.’

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Am I being an idiot, Quinn?’

He could feel her studying him in the darkness. ‘I think I need more information.’

‘With Adam.’

She was quiet for a minute. He pulled up the driveway to his house and killed the engine. They couldn’t sit here too long, but they could never finish this conversation in the house, so he waited with the keys in his hand, his eyes on the darkened dash.

Quinn let out a slow breath. ‘You
really
like him,’ she said softly. ‘Like, full on hearts in your eyes, doodling your last name with his, making up —’

‘Quinn.’

She pulled her legs up on the bench to sit cross-legged. ‘Did you go back to his place?’

He winced, feeling like he was admitting something he shouldn’t. ‘Yes.’

‘Was there more kissing or more talking?’

His face felt warm again, and he fiddled with the keys in his lap. Was this how girls felt? He didn’t like it. ‘Dead even.’

‘Did anyone’s clothes come off?’

‘No!’ Thank god. But now he was imagining it.

God, this was so confusing. He shouldn’t have thrown away the cup sleeve with Courtnie’s number.
That
he knew how to handle.

But another part of him railed against the idea, like he’d cracked a door and his subconscious had wedged an arm into the opening.

Quinn was quiet for a while. ‘I’ve known Adam for a long time,’ she finally said. ‘But that doesn’t mean I know him well. He doesn’t bring a lot of guys around the studio or anything — but he never seems lonely, either. Are you going to see him again?’

‘I don’t know. You called, and I left in a hurry. He said he’d text me later.’ Nick checked his phone. No new messages from Adam. Not even to ask how Quinn was.

‘Sucks being the girl, doesn’t it?’ said Quinn.

‘Shut up.’ But yes. It did.

Nick tried to be quiet when he snuck Quinn into the house, but Hunter stirred and ran a hand across his face when they crept into the bedroom.

His eyes widened fractionally when he saw Quinn, but he took it in stride. ‘You guys want me to crash on the couch?’

‘She’s sleeping here, that’s all,’ said Nick.

Hunter yawned and rolled over, turning his back on them. ‘Yeah, okay. Let me know if you change your mind.’

Nick usually slept in a T-shirt and boxers, but out of deference to Quinn’s presence in his bed, he pulled on a pair of threadbare sweat–pants. They changed in the dark, and then he drew back the blankets.

Quinn slid in beside him. She offered his modesty no deference. His hand brushed bare thigh, but before he could react to that, she was pressed up against him, her leg slung over his.

‘What are you
doing
?’ he whispered, controlling the air so the sound waves of their conversation wouldn’t carry to Hunter.

‘Come on,’ she breathed. ‘If I’m caught here, it should at least
look
like we’re sleeping together.’

Nick didn’t say anything, torn between protesting and thinking she had a pretty good point.

Quinn snuggled more closely, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘It’s not like you care, right? If you want me to move, I will.’

‘No.’ He hesitated. ‘I guess it’s okay.’

‘Can you still fix my face?’ Her voice was sleepy.

‘Sure,’ he murmured. At least her sleeping position made that easy. He turned his head and eased a breath along her cheek.

She relaxed into him, so he fished for information. ‘You never told me how you ended up with Tyler.’

‘I walked to the 7-Eleven. He was there.’

‘You walked there
alone
?’

‘I walk there all the time. Stop being such a mother hen.’

‘Why did Tyler start hassling you?’ For an instant, he wondered if Quinn had walked up and started hassling
Tyler
. She wasn’t exactly subtle.

‘He wants to know what happened at the carnival. He said something about the Guides.’ She paused. ‘The news said those explosions at the carnival were due to poor wiring.’

‘No. That was Calla Dean. She started those.’

‘Calla Dean!’

‘Shh. Yeah. She was behind the arson attacks, too.’

Quinn’s house had burned down in one of those arson attacks — it was the whole reason they were living in that damned apartment. ‘I thought that was Rick Stacey!’

‘He helped, but she was the mastermind.’

Quinn was silent for a minute. She knew Calla Dean from school — but she didn’t know her well. Calla had been one of the students who’d disappeared after the carnival, and everyone thought she was dead. There was still a memorial of notes and pictures taped all over her locker.

It seemed ridiculous, but all Quinn could think was,
I always liked her highlights.
‘I thought she was one of the students who died in the carnival explosions.’

‘We don’t know what happened to her. When Silver came after us, we found the middle school Elementals, but not her.’ He shrugged. ‘Maybe she ran.’

‘And Silver is one of the Guides that are trying to kill you guys, right?’

‘Right. But he’s in prison.’

‘When will they send a new one?’

‘Eventually.’ He brushed a finger across her cheek. ‘How’s that feel?’

Her eyes, normally so bright, were shadowed in the darkness. ‘Much better,’ she whispered. ‘Thanks.’

Then, without warning, she shifted up and pressed her lips to his.

For a second, Nick didn’t resist. He’d kissed girls — lots of them — and he knew how to respond. If that girl Courtnie had ambushed him with her lips, he probably would have kissed her back without thinking about it.

But this — this was different. Quinn
knew
. And this wasn’t like earlier, when she’d been giving him a cover.

He’d never shove her away, but he stiffened and drew back.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

‘It’s okay,’ he said automatically.

But it wasn’t okay. He felt like he was hurting her, when he hadn’t done anything.

And this would be easier if she weren’t still attached to his side like a leech.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I forgot — what you were doing — it felt — it felt —’

‘Shh,’ he whispered. ‘It’s okay.’

‘Are you mad?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not mad, Quinn.’ But he kind of was, and he couldn’t put it all together. He paused and touched her face again. ‘I’m so sorry. You shouldn’t have to keep doing this.’

She caught his hand and held it there. ‘It’s my fault.’

He frowned. ‘I don’t mean to hurt you.’

‘Sometimes I wish you weren’t . . .’ Her voice dropped even further, and her eyes flicked toward the end of the room where Hunter slept. ‘You know.’

‘I know.’ Truth was, sometimes he wished that, too.

‘Do you want me to sleep somewhere else?’

Nick shook his head and kissed her on the forehead. ‘No. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it.’

She took him at his word. She snuggled back into him, and after a few minutes, her breathing told him she was asleep.

It wouldn’t come so easily to Nick.

Sucks being the girl, doesn’t it?

But he
wasn’t
a girl. And he sure as hell wasn’t going to play one. Slowly, carefully, so as not to wake her or Hunter, he slid the phone off his nightstand and unlocked the screen.

Did he want to do this? What message would he send?

Then his message icon lit up.

Adam. Words appeared on the screen.

You free tomorrow? Have class til 8 but free after.

Nick’s heart skipped ahead of him, dancing in circles. But he’d already blown off physics tonight, and he had a paper due in two days.

He probably shouldn’t seem too eager, either.

God, he couldn’t believe he was even having this conversation with himself. He typed back quickly.

Have to study.

As soon as he pressed
SEND
, he wanted to punch the phone. He had to
study
? Seriously? What the hell was wrong with him? He so couldn’t play this from the other side. How would Adam read that? As rejection? More likely that Nick was the biggest nerd to walk the earth. The phone silently mocked him, not offering any further messages.

Then, just as he was about to set it on his side table, the display lit again.

Study here?

Nick smiled.

You’re on.

6

Nick rubbed at his eyes and told himself to
focus
. He was usually
the first one to hand in a completed test, but more than half the class had walked their papers up to the front of the room. Even Gustav Asciak, the foreign exchange student who barely spoke a lick of English, had turned in his paper.

Nick still had half the test to complete. He never should have blown off studying. He kept mixing up the formulas, and the more he told his brain to spit out the information, the more it supplied him with thoughts of what he
had
been doing last night.

Adam’s eyes.

Adam’s hands.

Adam’s —

Focus.

This wasn’t the end of the world. He had an A average in every single class, including this one. Getting a less than perfect score on one test wasn’t going to kill him.

But it was definitely going to piss him off. His
GPA
was everything. He wasn’t rolling in money, so he needed scholarships if he wanted to go away to school.

He could imagine the college rejection letters now.
After learning that one kiss and a sleepless night led you to fail a test, we have decided you are no longer a fit for our institution . . .

The bell rang, and Nick snapped his head up. Students started shoving books into backpacks and pushing for the exit.

Holy shit
. He still had seven questions left.

He kept writing, scribbling fast. The room cleared before he was halfway through the next problem. His thoughts were so scattered that he wasn’t sure he was tackling the question correctly.

‘Nick.’ Dr. Cutter appeared beside his desk, tapping a finger on the plastic surface. His voice was gentle but carried an air of finality. ‘Time is up, I’m afraid.’

Nick didn’t stop writing. ‘One minute?’

Dr. Cutter didn’t say anything for a long moment, but Nick felt his concern in the air.

Finally, he put a hand on Nick’s wrist, stilling his writing. ‘Did you not understand the material?’ he said. ‘I wish you had come to me earlier this week —’

‘No.’ This was pointless. Nick put his pencil down and rubbed at his eyes. ‘I understood it.’

The teacher picked up the test and flipped through the pages. ‘You’ve missed the entire last section.’

Like he didn’t know that. Nick focused on the pencil, wishing he could stab it straight through his hand. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to study. I kept mixing up the formulas.’

Dr. Cutter sat down at the desk beside him. ‘Is something going on at home?’

Nick knew this voice. He’d heard it twelve dozen times since his parents died. While teachers and counselors had learned to steer clear of Gabriel’s temper, they knew they could seek answers from Nick.
Are you okay? Are you getting enough to eat? Is your brother doing enough to take care of you?

But he was seventeen now, and way too old to get a pass for something like that.

Especially when failing this test had nothing to do with problems at home, and everything to do with one dark-haired dancer.

God, you’re obsessed.

‘No,’ he said. ‘Home’s fine. Really.’

Dr. Cutter wasn’t convinced. ‘Girlfriend?’

Nick looked at him. ‘I’m okay. Just tired.’

‘This is a unit test. If you fail, you’ll have to get someone from home to sign it.’

Michael probably wouldn’t be angry, but he’d definitely want an explanation. That was almost worse.

So, Michael, there’s this guy
. . .