Torment - Lauren Kate [58]
“Everything’s great,” Shelby responded. She took Luce by the elbow and jerked her toward the deck, where some of the other students were paired up, already conducting their mock interviews. “Luce and I were just about to talk résumés.”
Francesca appeared behind Steven. “Miles,” she said softly, “Jasmine still needs a partner if you’d like to pull up a desk next to her.”
A few desks down, Jasmine said, “Dawn and I couldn’t agree on who should play indie starlet and who should play”—her voice dropped an octave—“casting director. So she abandoned me for Roland.”
Miles looked disappointed. “Casting director,” he mumbled. “Finally, I’ve found my calling.” He headed off to join his partner, and Luce watched him go.
With the situation diffused, Francesca steered Steven back to the front of the room. But even as he walked beside Francesca, Luce could feel him watching her.
She subtly checked her phone. Callie still hadn’t texted her back. This wasn’t like her, and Luce blamed herself. Maybe it would be better for both of them if Luce just kept her distance. It was only for a little while.
She followed Shelby outside to a seat on the wooden bench built into the curve of the deck. The sun was bright in the clear sky, but the only part of the deck that wasn’t already packed with students was under the cool shade of a towering redwood. Luce brushed a layer of dull green needles off the bench and zipped her chunky sweater a little higher on her neck.
“You were really cool about everything last night,” she said in a low voice. “I was … freaking out.”
“I know,” Shelby laughed. “You were all—” She made a trembling zombie face.
“Give me a break. That was rough. My one chance to learn something about my past, and I totally choked.”
“You Southerners and your guilt.” Shelby gave a one-shouldered shrug. “You gotta cut yourself some slack. I’m sure there are plenty more relatives where those two old geezers came from. Maybe even some who aren’t so close to death’s door.” Before Luce’s face could collapse, Shelby added, “All I’m saying is, if you ever feel up for tracking down another family member, just say the word. You’re growing on me Luce, it’s kinda weird.”
“Shelby,” Luce whispered suddenly, through clenched teeth. “Don’t move.” Beyond the deck, the biggest, most ominous Announcer Luce had ever seen was rippling in the long shadow cast by an enormous redwood tree.
Slowly, following Luce’s eyes, Shelby looked out at the ground. The Announcer was using the real shadow of the tree as camouflage. Parts of it kept twitching.
“It looks sick, or skittish, or, I don’t know …” Shelby trailed off, curling her lip. “There’s something wrong with it, right?”
Luce was looking past Shelby at the staircase winding down to the ground level of the lodge. Below them were a bunch of unpainted wooden supports that propped up the deck. If Luce could get hold of the shadow, Shelby could join her under the deck before anyone saw anything. She could help Luce glimpse its message and they could make it back upstairs in time to rejoin the class.
“You’re not seriously considering what I think you’re seriously considering,” Shelby said. “Are you?”
“Keep watch up here for a minute,” Luce said. “Be ready when I call you.”
Luce descended a few steps, so that her head was just level with the deck where the rest of the students were busy carrying out their interviews. Shelby had her back to Luce. She’d give a sign if anyone noticed Luce was gone.
Luce could hear Dawn in the corner, ad-libbing with Roland: “You know, I was stunned when I was nominated for a Golden Globe. …”
Luce looked back at the darkness stretched out along the grass. It occurred to her to wonder whether the other students had seen it. But she couldn’t worry about that. She was wasting time.
The Announcer was a good ten feet away, but where she stood close to the deck, Luce was shielded from the other students’ eyes. It would be too obvious if she walked right over to it. She was going to have to try to coax it off the ground and over to her without using her hands. And she had