Torment - Lauren Kate [42]
The light was on in her window. Luce imagined Shelby on the orange area rug, her legs crossed in the lotus position, meditating. How could Luce go in and pretend she hadn’t just seen an angel die? Or that everything that had happened this week hadn’t left her riddled with doubts?
“Let’s keep this evening’s happenings between us, shall we?” Cam said. “And going forward, do us all a favor and stay on campus, where you won’t get into trouble.”
She pushed past him, out of the beam of the stolen truck’s headlights and into the shadows cloaking the walls of her dorm.
Cam got back into the truck, revving the engine obnoxiously. But before he pulled away, he rolled down the window and called out to Luce, “You’re welcome.”
She turned around. “For what?”
He grinned and hit the gas. “For saving your life.”
SIX
THIRTEEN DAYS
“It’s here,” a loud voice sang outside Luce’s door early the next morning. Someone was knocking. “It’s finally here!”
The knocking grew more insistent. Luce didn’t know what time it was, other than way too early for all the giggling she could hear on the other side of the door.
“Your friends,” Shelby called from the top bunk.
Luce groaned and slid out of bed. She glanced up at Shelby, who was propped up on her stomach on the top bunk, already fully dressed in jeans and a puffy red vest, doing the Saturday crossword.
“Do you ever sleep?” Luce muttered, reaching into her closet to yank on the purple tartan robe her mother had sewn for her thirteenth birthday. It still fit her—sort of.
She pressed her face against the peephole and saw the convex smiling faces of Dawn and Jasmine. They were geared up with bright scarves and fuzzy earmuffs. Jasmine raised a cup holder with four coffees as Dawn, who had a large brown paper bag in her hand, knocked again.
“Are you going to shoo them away or should I call campus security?” Shelby asked.
Ignoring her, Luce swung open the door and the two girls flooded past her into the room, talking a mile a minute.
“Finally.” Jasmine laughed, handing Luce a cup of coffee before plopping down on the unmade bottom bunk. “We have so much to discuss.”
Neither Dawn nor Jasmine had ever come over before, but Luce was enjoying the way they acted right at home. It reminded her of Penn, who’d “borrowed” the spare key to Luce’s room so she could barrel in whenever the need arose.
Luce looked down at her coffee and swallowed hard. No way could she get emotional here, now, in front of these three.
Dawn was in the bathroom, rooting through the cupboards next to the sink. “As an integral member of the planning committee, we think you should be a part of the welcome address today,” she said, looking up at Luce in disbelief. “How are you not even dressed yet? The yacht leaves in, like, under an hour.”
Luce scratched her forehead. “Remind me?”
“Ugh.” Dawn groaned dramatically. “Amy Branshaw? My lab partner? The one whose father owns the monster yacht? Is any of this ringing a bell?”
It was all coming back to her. Saturday. The yacht trip up the coast. Jasmine and Dawn had pitched the distantly educational idea to Shoreline’s events committee—aka Francesca—and had somehow gotten it approved. Luce had agreed to help, but she hadn’t done a thing. All she could think about now was Daniel’s face when she’d told him about it, instantly dismissing the idea of Luce’s having fun without him.
Now Dawn was rifling through Luce’s closet. She pulled out a long-sleeved eggplant-colored jersey dress, tossed it at Luce, and shooed her into the bathroom. “Don’t forget leggings underneath.