“So I know it must be hard. Suffering that kind of loss. The subsequent alienation. And now this: a new school, a fresh start, but also what I have to imagine is a great deal of stress.” He nodded to the pills. “You don’t have to use them. But take them with you. They’re less harmful than cigarettes, and you never know, they might actually help.”
Kate considered the vial. How many of the students were on these pills? How many of the citizens in North City? Did the medicated calm keep them from fanning the flames of violence? Did it help them pretend the world was safe? Did it hold them together? Did it help them sleep?
Kate frowned but reached for the pills. She doubted anything would help, but if the gesture got the good Dr. Landry off her back and kept the incident off the school record (and her father’s radar), it was worth it.
“Am I free to go?” she asked. Landry nodded, and she escaped out from under his gaze and into the empty hall.
Kate shook a white tablet into her palm. She looked down at the pill, hesitated.
Where are you? she asked herself.
Away. Whole. Sane. Happy. A dozen different selves with a dozen different lives, but she wasn’t living any of those. She had to be here. Had to be strong. And if Dr. Landry saw the fraying edges, then so would her father.
Kate swallowed the tablet dry.
She looked around the empty hall. Too late to go back to class. Too early to go anywhere else. Through the nearest set of doors, the bleachers stood, soaked invitingly in sun. She pocketed the pills and went to get some air.
August heard her coming.
People were made of pieces—looks and smells, sure, but also sounds. Everything about Emily Flynn was staccato. Everything about Henry was smooth. Leo’s steps were as steady as a pulse. Ilsa’s hair made the constant hush-hush of blankets.
And Kate? She sounded like painted nails tapping out a steady beat.
August was leaning back against the warm metal bleachers, chin tipped toward the sun, when she sat down in the row behind him. The steel bench thrummed from the sudden weight, and August decided that even if she hadn’t made a sound, he’d still have guessed it was her. She had a way of taking up space. He could feel the soft pressure of her gaze, but he kept his eyes closed. A gentle breeze ran fingers through his hair, and he let himself smile, a small almost-natural thing. A shadow slid across the red-white glow of sun, and his eyes drifted open and there she was, looking down at him. There was a softness to her features from this angle, a distant quality to her eyes, like clouds muddling a crisp blue sky.
“Hello,” he said.
“Hello,” she said. And then, absently, “Where were you?”
He squinted. “What?”
But Kate was already shaking her head, edges sharpening. “Nothing.”
August sat up, twisting slowly around to look at her. “Tell me,” he said, regretting the words the moment they were out. He could see her gaze flatten, the answer rising to her lips. “Or don’t,” he added quickly. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”
Kate blinked, her gaze focusing again. But then she said, “It’s just a game I sometimes play. When I want to be somewhere else.”
“Like where?”
A small crease appeared between her brows. “I don’t know. But you’re telling that if you could be anywhere right now, you’d be here on the Colton bleachers?”
August smiled. “It’s pretty nice.” He gestured to the field, the distant line of trees. “And of course, there’s the view.”
She rolled her eyes. Up close, they were blue. Not sky-bright, but dark, the same shade as her navy Colton polo. She had her hair twisted over one shoulder, and again he saw the teardrop scar in the corner of her eye, the silvery line that traced her face from scalp to jaw. He wondered how many people got close enough to notice. And then, before he could ask, she was leaning back, stretching her legs out on the bleachers.
“Shouldn’t you be in class?” she asked.
“I have study hall,” he said, even though he obviously wasn’t there, either. “What about you?”
“Gym,” she said. “But I got kicked out for misconduct.” August raised both brows, the way he’d seen Colin do when feigning surprise. “Did you know they teach self-defense here?” she went on. “It’s a joke. I mean, S-I-N-G tactics, really? As far as I know, a kick to the groin isn’t going to stop a Corsai from tearing you apart.”
“True,” he said, resting his elbows against the bench behind him. “But there are plenty of bad humans in the world, too.” Like your father. “So, did you get kicked out for lecturing the teacher?”
“Even better,” she said, running a hand through her sandy hair. “I got kicked out for breaking his collarbone.”
Something escaped August’s throat, a soft, breathless laugh. The sound took him by surprise.
“According to the counselor,” continued Kate, “I have a violence problem.”