Keira rolled her eyes. “That’s totally not playing fair.”
He leaned in close. “Playing fair’s no fun at all,” he murmured.
The overhead lights were suddenly too bright and Keira blinked against the unexpected glare, not quite believing what she was seeing.
There was a tiny starburst of darkness pulsing at the top of Walker’s cheek.
She blinked hard, willing it away.
“Are you dizzy again? You look pale all of a sudden.” Walker reached out and caught her chin in his fingers. His thumb traced the tender spot beneath the curve of her lower lip. When his fingertips grazed her skin, the black mark on his cheek exploded like dark fireworks, shattering into a thousand tiny dots that sank back into his skin and disappeared.
Keira barely noticed, mostly because their sudden contact brought a row of strange, rounded huts into view. The small buildings shimmered darkly against the bright normalcy of the multiplex. A headache flared behind her eyes, throbbing against her forehead. Walker dropped his hand and stepped closer. The huts disappeared and the pain in her head let up, until it was nothing more than a twinge.
“I’m not dizzy. I just—I had a weird headache for a second there, but it’s gone. Susan thinks I’m getting migraines.” They headed for the theater, easily falling into step with each other.
“Why?”
Keira leaned her head toward her shoulder, stretching out the tension in her neck. “Mostly because my eyes have been funny. Susan sees halos and sparkly lights sometimes before she gets migraines. Actually”—the pieces clicked—“I think she gets dizzy, too.”
Walker looked at her sharply. “And you see the same sorts of things Susan does?”
His dark eyes searched hers, like he could read the truth there, whether she lied to him or not.
“Not exactly. All the stuff she sees seems to be about too much light. Mine’s the opposite. It’s dark.”
Something in his expression made her keep going. “And it always seems to happen when I’m with you.”
Walker’s jaw clenched. Keira immediately regretted saying it, even though it was true. “Maybe I’m allergic to the smell your shampoo or something,” she offered.
Walker opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Susan came bounding over with Smith sauntering a step behind.
“Guys, come on! The last showing’s getting ready to let out. We’ll miss all the good seats.” She grabbed Keira’s arm and carted her toward the ticket taker.
She looked back for Walker—he still had their tickets.
He hadn’t moved. Walker’s hands were clenched into fists, his shoulders half turned toward the front doors. It looked like he was leaving. Keira pulled her arm out of Susan’s grip.
Except he didn’t leave. He stared straight at Keira and his teeth grazed his lower lip like a little boy gazing at a long wished-for present. Everything about him said he was in the middle of an impossible choice.
It was only a movie date, but Keira had the unshakable sense that the moment was suddenly much, much bigger than that. She just didn’t know why.
“Walker? Are you coming?” she asked.
He closed his eyes for a split second. Then he opened his fists, loosening his grip on the tickets.
When he looked at her again, the pain had disappeared from his eyes. There was nothing left in his expression but wanting and determination. Lots and lots of determination. The combination sent a shiver through Keira’s middle.
“Yes. Absolutely.” He held out the crumpled tickets to her.
Vaguely dazed from the remnants of her headache and the strange scene in the lobby, Keira turned to face the meager crowd that trickled out of the prior showing.
A group of people from school walked out of the theater. Tommy and Jeremy were with them. The two of them froze. Tommy’s mouth was actually hanging open. One of the girls whipped her cell phone out of her purse, fingers flying as she started texting furiously.
“Hey, guys,” Keira said. She tried to keep the smirk out of her voice. She almost succeeded. Susan’s wish had come true.
Jeremy took a step toward them. “You going to introduce us to your friends?”
Smith crossed his arms. “No.”
Walker snickered at Smith. “Oh, come on.” He looked at the two guys. “Don’t mind my cousin. He’s a little testy.”
Susan slid her hand into the crook of Smith’s elbow. “Too bad we don’t have time to chat, but I never miss the previews.” She strode into the theater, half dragging Smith along with her.
They slid into a row of seats, and Keira ended up between Walker and Smith. The two cousins glanced at each other over her head, both of them wound tight with warning.
Penned in, Keira glanced at the screen, where the previews had, in fact, started.
Smith glanced down at her. “So, how long have you been seeing Walker?”
On Smith’s other side, Susan laughed. “In Keira-time? Forever. In reality? What? A week? Two weeks?”