"And girls especially don't tell him he's wrong. You're probably the only girl who's ever done it. You're probably the only girl smart enough to do it." I was getting impatient. "I get that. So why the flowers? Why the compliments?" Trey shook his head and looked like he was about to start laughing again. "Melbourne, if you don't know, then I'm not going to tell you."
I was too worried about Brayden returning to comment further on Trey's useless "advice." Instead, I said, "Is Chris the perfect cousin you were talking about?" Trey's smirk faded. "That's the one. Anything I can do, he can do better." I immediately regretted asking. Trey, like Adrian, was one of those people I didn't like seeing troubled. "Well. He didn't seem so perfect to me. Probably I'm biased from being around you all the time. You set the standard for perfection." That brought Trey's smile back. "Sorry about his attitude. He's always been like that. Not the most charming branch of the Juarez family tree. That's me, of course."
"Of course," I agreed.
He was still smiling when Brayden returned, but when I cast a glance backward as I was leaving the coffee shop, Trey's expression had darkened again. His thoughts were turned inward, and I wished I knew how to help.
On the drive back to Amberwood, Brayden said shyly, "Well. Now I know my schedule for the next two weeks."
"That's... good," I said.
He hesitated. "So... I know when I can go out again. If, that is, I mean. If you want to go out again."
That would've surprised me, if I wasn't already stumped by everything else that had happened today. Brayden wanted to go out with me again? Why? Girls especially don't tell him he's wrong. You're probably the only girl who's ever done it. You're probably the only girl smart enough to do it. More importantly, did I want to go out with him again? I glanced over at him and then down at the roses. I thought about his eyes when he'd gazed at me in the stopped car. I realized then the odds of me ever finding a guy who thought Shakespeare and wind farms were fun were pretty infinitesimal.
"Okay," I said.
His narrowed his eyes in thought. "Isn't there some kind of dance your school's having?
Do you want to go to that? People go to those, right?"
"That's what I keep hearing. How'd you know about it?"
"The sign," he said. Then, as if on cue, he pulled into the driveway in front of my dorm.
Hanging over the main door was a sign decorated with cobwebs and bats. GET YOUR
SCARE ON AT THE HALLOWEEN DANCE.
"Oh," I said. "That sign." Eddie was right. I really did have selective data storage. "I guess we can go. If you want to."
"Sure. I mean, if you want to."
Silence. We both laughed.
"Well, then," I said. "I guess we're going."
Brayden leaned toward me, and I panicked until I saw that he was trying to get a better look at the sign. "A week and a half away."
"Enough time to get costumes, I suppose."
"I suppose. Although..."
And that's when the next crazy thing happened. He held my hand.
I admit, I hadn't been expecting much, especially after my mixed reaction to the roadside kiss. Still, as he laid his hand over mine, I was surprised to feel that it was again just like...
well, like touching someone's hand. I'd at least thought there might be goose bumps or a little heart fluttering. My biggest emotional reaction was worry over what to do with my hand. Lace fingers? Squeeze his hand back?
"I'd like to go out sooner," he said. That hesitancy returned. "If you want to." I looked down at our hands and tried to figure out how I felt. He had nice hands. Smooth, warm. I could get used to holding those hands. And of course, he smelled like coffee. Was that enough to build love on? Again, that uncertainty nagged me. What right did I have to any of this? I wasn't in Palm Springs for my own entertainment. There was no "me" in Alchemy.
Well, phonetically there was, but that wasn't the point. I knew my superiors wouldn't approve of any of this.
And yet, when would I get this chance again? When would I ever get flowers? When would someone look at me with this kind of fervor? I decided to take the plunge.
"Sure," I said. "Let's go out again."
Chapter 8
GOING OUT AGAIN didn't really happen until the weekend. Brayden and I were both overachieving enough to manage weeknight outings and still finish homework - but neither of us liked to do it if we could avoid it. Besides, my weeknights usually had some other conflict with the gang, be it a feeding or the experiments. Eddie had given his blood this week, and I'd made a point to not be around when it happened, lest Sonya try to pitch to me again.
Brayden had wanted to go out Saturday, but that was the day I'd promised to drive Adrian to San Diego. Brayden compromised on breakfast, catching me before I hit the road, and we went out to a restaurant adjacent to one of Palm Springs' many lush golf resorts. Although I had long since offered to pull my share, Brayden continued picking up the bills and doing all the driving. As he pulled up in front of my dorm to drop me off afterward, I saw a surprising and not entirely welcome sight awaiting me: Adrian sitting outside on a bench, looking bored.
"Oh geez," I said.