She grinned at me. “No. But that’s because he doesn’t fancy me. I imagine he’s got a bit of pent-up sexual aggression that he’d just love to—”

“Marna!” I squealed, bumping her hip with mine.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

When we got back to her flat, Ginger was in her room, talking animatedly. Marna mouthed “Blake” to me, and Ginger must have heard us come in because she got really quiet.

Marna and I stayed up talking late into the night.

In a moment of seriousness, she brought up Jay.

“I owe you an apology for that night, New Year’s Eve. It was convenient to work on Jay when the whisperers showed, but you should know it was more than that.” Marna picked at the covers. “He was so sweet to me, so real, and so cute. I wanted to kiss him. Honestly. He’s the only boy I’ve ever fancied like that.”

“It’s okay,” I told her. I’d long since let go of any ill feelings about that night, and I’d always wondered what she really thought of him.

I told her everything—about how Jay and Veronica had eventually reconciled and become a couple, and how I didn’t know if they’d be able to make it through the college transition. Veronica seemed bored and unhappy these days.

Marna listened, shifting to sit behind me and play with my hair while I talked. When I finished, she lay her head on my shoulder and sighed.

“No offense to your friend, Anna, but human girls always take love for granted. They want things to be wild and carefree all the time. And when it gets too comfortable or requires a little work, they just toss it off. I’d give anything to be loved by a guy like Jay. But I suppose the grass is always greener on the other side, right?”

Marna kissed my cheek and I told her good night. After she turned off the light and we snuggled into her downy bed, I felt something cool on my shoulder. I reached up and was surprised to find a damp spot on my T-shirt. Remembering how she’d rested her head there, it now made sense. Marna’s tears.

She just wanted a chance at love. We all did. Love was the essence of being alive. But we’d never have a chance to work through those phases of a relationship and find ourselves in that comfort zone with someone. We’d never know for certain whether or not we’d take it for granted. I curled up on my side, lacing my fingers together and pressing them to my forehead.

Use me to make it happen. I beg, let it be soon. And let us have a chance to live.

Winter

Senior Year

CHAPTER NINE

LAND DOWN UNDER

Dad contacted me three days before Christmas. I’d been beginning to wonder if there were any more Neph out there who could be allies. He forwarded my travel itinerary for the following day with a message saying he’d meet to debrief Kope and me on our second layover, which would be in New Zealand. I stared at the itinerary for a long time. We were going to Australia! Dad warned me that it was summertime there, so I’d be sure to leave behind the sweaters and jackets I’d been donning.

I saw that our first short layover was in Los Angeles, which pinched at my heart. I’d be so close to Kai, and he wouldn’t even know it.

Out of sheer concern I’d told my dad what I’d learned from the twins about Kai not working. He gruffly replied that he couldn’t get involved, but promised to let me know if he heard anything. Dad said L.A. had a constant high volume of whisperers prowling, so we’d have to get the timing just right before he’d send me there.

Trying to be patient sucked. Time just kept taunting me. And now the holidays were here.

We’d be gone over Christmas. I’d never been away from Patti on the holiday. I hated to leave her alone—especially in our apartment, which looked so dreary without the annual decorations. But we couldn’t be caught celebrating.

Before she took me to the airport, I slipped a gift onto her bed when she wasn’t looking—an angel necklace with a list of a hundred things I loved about her. Some of the stuff was silly, little memories and inside jokes only she would get, but I knew she’d read it over and over while I was gone.

Kope flew down, just like last time, and met me at the Atlanta airport. He was more subdued than normal on the first leg of our flight. Maybe because the last time we’d seen each other I’d revealed an awful lot about myself and my feelings for Kai to him and the twins. I didn’t mind the quiet, though. And I was glad the truth was out there.

When we changed planes in L.A., there was blessed little time to contemplate how near I was to Kaidan. Kope kept sending me furtive glances, but I was too lost in thought to talk.

I’d been on an adventure across the world, and Kaidan had no idea. For so long I’d been in a holding pattern, refusing to move on, and recently I’d been shoved forward without him. With each new event and journey I felt farther from him.

I stared out the airplane window and sent a silent greeting over the dry hills before our very long flight across the ocean.

Jet lag set in as we arrived in New Zealand. My internal clock was thoroughly confused; thankfully, enthusiasm for the trip overrode it. Kope and I waited at a corner table in the airport restaurant where Dad said he’d meet us. We hadn’t been waiting long before he came clanking up. I wasn’t sure how he got past the metal detectors with those giant steel-toed boots. I stood and hugged him around his thick waist.

“Trip okay so far?” he asked.

“Great,” I told him.

The three of us huddled over the table when he took out the manila envelope. He wasted no time.