“Why would he? He invited a ton of people.” I turn to look at Macy, who has gone absolutely sheet white.

I roll my eyes at her, annoyed she seems so freaked out at the idea of hanging with Jaxon, but before I can say anything, Flint walks up behind me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “Hey, Grace. Looks like you’re ready to get your snowball on.”

“I am, actually.” I turn and end up grinning at him because it’s impossible not to. He’s just that fun and that charming. Not to mention the fact that he’s wearing a snow hat in the shape of a fire-breathing dragon that looks absolutely ridiculous. “In fact, I was trying to talk Jaxon into joining us.”

“Oh really?” Flint’s eyes go a kind of burning amber as he looks from me to Jaxon. “What do you say, Vega? Wanna fight?”

Flint’s smiling, but even I can tell it’s not a friendly invitation…and that’s before three other guys in all black join us, arranging themselves in a semicircle right behind Jaxon. For the first time, the phrase “got your back” makes sense to me, because it’s very obvious that’s why these guys are here. To have Jaxon’s back. I just don’t know from what.

These must be members of the infamous Order Macy was telling me about. And I can see why they got the nickname—there’s a closeness among the four of these guys that even I can’t miss. A bond that seems to be about a lot more than simple friendship.

Flint feels it, too. I can tell by the way he stiffens and the way he shifts his weight forward onto his toes, like he’s just waiting for Jaxon to throw the first punch. More, like he’s hoping for it.

Which…no. Just no. I don’t care if there’s suddenly enough testosterone in our little alcove to start the next world war; it’s not going to happen. At least not while Macy and I are standing directly in the middle.

“Come on.” I grab my cousin’s arm. “Let’s go figure out a way to win this snowball fight.”

That gets both Jaxon’s and Flint’s attention. “Those are big words coming from someone who never saw snow before she got here three days ago,” Flint teases, and while the tension isn’t gone, it’s way lower than it was a few seconds ago—exactly as I intended.

“Yeah, well, you know me. All about the bravado.” I keep a firm grip on Macy’s arm as I start to maneuver around Jaxon and his friends.

“Is that what you call it?” Jaxon murmurs in my ear as I slide past him. Once more, his warm breath is against the side of my neck, and a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold works its way down my spine.

Our eyes meet, and for a second, just a second, the whole world seems to drop away. Macy, Flint, the other students who are laughing and chattering as they move past us on their way to the door all disappear until it’s just Jaxon and me and the electricity that arcs between us.

My breath catches in my throat, my whole body grows warm, and it takes real, physical effort to stop myself from reaching out and touching him.

I think he must be having the same problem, because his hand comes up, hovers in the air between us for one long, infinite moment.

“Grace.” It’s barely a whisper, but still I feel it all the way inside myself. I wait, breath held, for him to say something—anything—else, but before he can, the front door flies open, letting in a huge gust of freezing air.

It breaks the spell, and suddenly we’re just two people standing in a crowded hallway again. Disappointment wells inside me, especially when Jaxon takes a step back, his face set once again in inscrutable lines.

I wait for him to say something, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just watches as Flint herds Macy and me toward the open door. As we cross the threshold, I raise my hand in a small goodbye wave.

I don’t expect him to return it, and he doesn’t. But just as I turn away to take my first step outside, he says, “Don’t forget to build an arsenal.”

They’re pretty much the last words I expect to hear from him…or anyone, for that matter. “An arsenal?”

“It’s the most important part of winning a snowball fight. Find a base you can protect and concentrate on building up your arsenal. Only attack when you’re sure you have enough ammunition to win.”

Snowballs. Here I was, convinced we had just shared a moment, and he’s thinking about snowballs. Fan-freaking-tastic.

“Ummm…thanks for the advice?” I give him a WTF look.

Jaxon responds with his regular, annoying blank face, but I swear his eyes are sparkling just a little. “It’s good advice. You should take it.”

“Why don’t you take it? Join me and the two of us can build a bigger arsenal.”

He lifts a brow. “And here I thought that’s exactly what I have been doing.”

“What does that mean?” I demand.

But he’s already turning away, already walking away, and I’m left staring after him.

As usual.

Damn it.

Something tells me this boy—and his world-famous disappearing act—is going to be the death of me.

   19

We Came,

We Fought,

I Froze

“Jaxon Vega, huh?” Flint asks as the cold slaps me in the face for the second time today.

“Don’t start,” I say, giving him the side eye.

“I’m not,” he answers, holding both hands up in mock surrender. “I swear.” He’s silent for a minute or so as the three of us concentrate on trudging through the snow toward everyone else. And can I just say that I’m pretty sure Macy undersold the crowd when she said fifty people. Even in the weird civil twilight that surrounds us on all sides, it looks more like a hundred, maybe even the whole damn school—minus Jaxon and his friends, of course.

On the plus side, at least they’re all wearing hats and scarves and coats…which I’m taking to mean that not everyone in this place is an actual alien. Thankfully.

“I just didn’t know ‘screwed-up and obnoxious’ was your type, that’s all.”

I shoot him a glare. “I thought you weren’t starting.”

“I’m not. I’m just looking out for you. Jaxon is—”

“Not screwed up.”

He laughs. “I notice you didn’t even try to say he wasn’t obnoxious, though, did you? And no offense, Grace, but you’re new here. You have no idea just how fucked-up he is.”

“And you do?”

“Yeah. And so does Macy. Right, Mace?”