"Most of the time, I don't even know why he likes me."

"Come on," Shelby groaned. "Do not be one of those girls. He's too good for me, wah wah wah. I'll have to punt you over to Dawn and Jasmine's table. That's their expertise, not mine."

"I don't mean it like that." Luce leaned in and dropped her voice. "I mean, ages ago, when Daniel was, you know, up there, he chose me. Me, out of everyone else on earth--"

"Well, there were probably a lot fewer options back then--Ouch!" Luce had swatted her. "Just trying to lighten the mood!"

"He chose me, Shelby, over some big role in Heaven, over some elevated position. That's pretty major, don't you think?" Shelby nodded. "There had to be more to it than just him thinking I was cute."

"But ... you don't know what it was?"

"I've asked, but he's never told me what happened. When I brought it up, it was almost like Daniel couldn't remember. And that's crazy, because it means we're both just going through the motions. Based on thousands of years of some fairy tale neither one of us can even back up."

Shelby rubbed her jaw. "What else is Daniel keeping from you?"

"That's what I plan on nding out."

Around the terrace, time had marched on; most of the students were heading to class. The scholarship waiters were hurrying to bus the plates. At a table closest to the ocean, Steven was drinking co ee alone. His glasses were folded up and resting on the table. His eyes found Luce's, and he held her gaze for a long time, so long that--even after she stood up to go to class--his intense, watchful expression stuck with her. Which was probably his point.

After the longest, most mind-numbing PBS special on cell pision ever seen, Luce walked out of her biology class, down the stairs of the main school building, and outside, where she was surprised to see the parking lot completely packed. Parents, older siblings, and more than a few chau eurs formed one long line of vehicles the likes of which Luce hadn't seen since the car-pool lane at her middle school in Georgia.

Around her, students hurried out of class and zigzagged toward the cars, wheeling suitcases in their wake. Dawn and Jasmine hugged goodbye before Jasmine got into a town car and Dawn's brothers made room for her in the back of an SUV. The two of them were only splitting up for a few hours.

Luce ducked back into the building and slipped out the rarely used rear door to trek across the grounds to her dorm. She de nitely could not deal with goodbyes right now.

Walking under the gray sky, Luce was still a guilty wreck, but her conversation with Shelby had left her feeling a bit more in control. It was screwed up, she knew it, but having kissed someone else made her feel like she nally had a say in her relationship with Daniel. Maybe she'd get a reaction out of him, for a change. She could apologize. He could apologize. They could make lemonade or whatever. Break through all this crap and really start talking.

Just then, her phone buzzed. A text from Mr. Cole:

Everything's taken care of.

So Mr. Cole had passed on the news that Luce wasn't coming home. But he'd conveniently left out of his text whether or not her parents were still speaking to her. She hadn't heard from them in days.

It was a no-win situation: If they wrote to her, she felt guilty about not writing them back. If they didn't write to her, she felt responsible for being the reason they couldn't reach out. She still hadn't gured out what to do about Callie.

She thumped up the stairs of the empty dorm. Each step echoed hollowly in the cavernous building. No one was around.

When she made it to her room, she expected to nd Shelby already gone--or at least, to see her suitcase packed and waiting by the door.

Shelby wasn't there, but her clothes were still strewn all over her side of the room. Her pu y red vest was still on its peg, and her yoga gear was still stacked in the corner. Maybe she wasn't leaving until tomorrow morning.

Before Luce had even fully closed the door behind her, someone knocked on the other side. She stuck her head into the hallway.

Miles. Miles.

Her palms grew damp and she could feel her heartbeat pick up. She wondered what her hair looked like, whether she'd remembered to make her bed this morning, and how long he'd been walking behind her. Whether he'd seen her dodge the caravan of Thanksgiving farewells, or seen the pained look on her face when she'd checked her text messages.

"Hi," she said softly.

"Hi."

Miles had on a thick brown sweater over a collared white shirt. He was wearing those jeans with the hole in the knee, the ones that always made Dawn jump up to follow him so she and Jasmine could swoon from behind him.

Miles's mouth twitched into a nervous smile. "Wanna do something?"

His thumbs were tucked under the straps of his navy blue backpack and his voice echoed o the wood walls. It crossed Luce's mind that she and Miles might be the only two people in the entire building. The thought was both thrilling and nerve-wracking.

"I'm grounded for eternity, remember?"

"That's why I brought the fun to you."

At rst Luce thought Miles was referring to himself, but then he slid his backpack o one shoulder and unzipped the main compartment. Inside was a treasure trove of board games: Boggle. Connect Four. Parcheesi. The High School Musical game. Even travel Scrabble. It was so nice, and so not awkward, Luce thought she might cry.

"I gured you were going home today," she said. "Everyone else is leaving."

Miles shrugged. "My parents said it was cool if I stayed. I'll be home again in a couple of weeks, and besides, we have di erent opinions on the perfect vacation. Theirs is anything worthy of a write-up in the New York Times Styles section."

Luce laughed. "And yours?"

Miles dug a little deeper into his bag, pulling out two packets of instant apple cider, a box of microwave popcorn, and a DVD of the Woody Allen movie Hannah and Her Sisters. "Pretty humble, but you're looking at it." He smiled. "I asked you to spend Thanksgiving with me, Luce. Just because we're changing venues doesn't mean we have to change our plans."

She felt a grin spread across her face, and held open the door for Miles to come in. His shoulder brushed hers when he passed, and they locked eyes for a moment. She felt Miles almost sway on his heels, as if he was going to double back and kiss her. She tensed up, waiting.

But he just smiled, dropped his backpack in the middle of the oor, and started to unload Thanksgiving.

"Are you hungry?" he asked, waving a packet of popcorn.

Luce winced. "I am really bad at making popcorn."

She was thinking of the time she and Callie nearly burned down their dorm at Dover. She couldn't help it. It made her miss her best friend all over again.

Miles opened the door of the microwave. He held up a nger. "I can press any button with this nger, and microwave most anything. You're lucky I'm so good at it."

It was weird that earlier she'd been torn up over kissing Miles. Now she realized he was the only thing making her feel better. If he hadn't come over, she'd be spiraling into another guilty black abyss. Even though she couldn't imagine kissing him again--not because she didn't want to, necessarily, but because she knew it wasn't right, that she couldn't do that to Daniel ... that she didn't want to do that to Daniel--Miles's presence was extremely comforting.

They played Boggle until Luce nally understood the rules, Scrabble until they realized the set was missing half its letters, and Parcheesi until the sun went down outside the window and it was too dim to see the board without turning on a light. Then Miles stood up and lit the re, and slid Hannah and Her Sisters into the DVD player on Luce's computer. The only place to sit and watch the movie was on the bed.

Suddenly, Luce felt nervous. Before, they'd just been two friends playing board games on a weekday afternoon. Now the stars were out, the dorm was empty, the re was crackling, and--what did that make them?

They sat next to each other on Luce's bed, and she couldn't stop thinking about where her hands were, whether they looked unnatural if she kept them pinned across her lap, whether they'd brush against Miles's ngertips if she rested them at her sides. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see his chest moving when he breathed. She could hear him scratch the back of his neck. He'd taken his baseball cap o , and she could smell the citrusy shampoo in his ne brown hair.

Hannah and Her Sisters was one of the few Woody Allen movies she'd never seen, but she could not make herself pay attention. She'd crossed and uncrossed her legs three times before the opening titles rolled.

The door swung open. Shelby barreled into the room, took one look at Luce's computer monitor, and blurted, "Best Thanksgiving movie ever! Can I watch with--" Then she looked at Luce and Miles, sitting in the dark on the bed. "Oh."

Luce bolted up o the bed. "Of course you can! I didn't know when you were leaving to go home--"

"Never." Shelby ung herself on the top bunk, sending a small earthquake down to Luce and Miles on the bottom bunk. "My mom and I got in a

ght. Don't ask, it was utterly boring. Besides, I'd much rather hang out with you guys, anyway."

"But Shelby--" Luce couldn't imagine getting in a ght so big it kept her from going home on Thanksgiving.

"Let's just enjoy the genius of Woody in silence," Shelby commanded.

Miles and Luce shot each other a conspiratorial look. "You got it," Miles called up to Shelby, giving Luce a grin.

Truthfully, Luce was relieved. When she settled back into her seat, her ngers did brush against Miles's, and he gave them a squeeze. It was only for a moment, but it was long enough to let Luce know that, at least as far as Thanksgiving weekend was concerned, things were going to be okay.

Chapter Seventeen

TWO DAYS

Luce woke to the scrape of a hanger dragging across the bar in her closet.

Before she could see who was responsible for the noise, a mound of clothes bombarded her. She sat up in bed, pushing her way out from under the pile of jeans, T-shirts, and sweaters. She plucked an argyle sock o her forehead.

"Arriane?"

"Do you like the red one? Or the black?" Arriane was holding two of Luce's dresses up against her tiny frame, swaying as she modeled each one.

Arriane's arms were bare of the awful tracking wristband she'd had to wear at Sword & Cross. Luce hadn't noticed until now, and she shuddered to remember the cruel voltage sent coursing through Arriane whenever she stepped out of line. Every day in California, Luce's memories of Sword & Cross grew hazier, until a moment like this one jolted her back into the turmoil of her stay there.

"Elizabeth Taylor says only certain women can wear red," Arriane continued. "It's all about cleavage and coloring. Luckily, you've got both." She freed the red dress from its hanger and tossed it on the pile.

"What are you doing here?" Luce asked.

Arriane put her tiny hands on her hips. "Helping you pack, silly. You're going home."

"Wh-What home? What do you mean?" Luce stammered.

Arriane laughed, stepping forward to take one of Luce's hands and tug her out of bed. "Georgia, my peach." She patted Luce's cheek. "With good old Harry and Doreen. And apparently some friend of yours is also ying in."

Callie. She was actually going to get to see Callie? And her parents? Luce wobbled where she stood, suddenly speechless.