But there was Daniel, and before him there'd been Daniel too, and Daniel again and again and--it was endlessly complicated.
"I'm botching this." Miles winced. "When all I really wanted to do was say goodnight."
She looked up at him and found that he was looking down at her. His hands came out of his pockets, found her hands, and clasped them in the space between their chests. He leaned down slowly, deliberately, giving Luce another chance to feel the spectacular night all around them.
She knew that Miles was going to kiss her. She knew she shouldn't let him. Because of Daniel, of course--but also because of what had happened when she'd kissed Trevor. Her rst kiss. The only kiss she'd ever had with anyone besides Daniel. Could being tied to Daniel be the reason Trevor died? What if the second she kissed Miles, he ... she couldn't even bear to think about it.
"Miles." She pressed him back. "You shouldn't do this. Kissing me is"--she swallowed--"dangerous."
He chuckled. Of course he would, because he didn't know anything about Trevor. "I think I'll take my chances."
She tried to pull back, but Miles had a way of making her feel good about almost everything. Even this. When his mouth came down on hers, she held her breath, waiting for the worst.
But nothing happened.
Miles lips were feather-soft, kissing her gently enough that he still felt like her good friend--but with just enough passion to prove there was more where this one came from. If she wanted it.
But even if there were no ames, no scorched skin, no death or destruction--and why weren't there?--the kiss was still supposed to feel wrong. For so long, all her lips had wanted were Daniel's lips, all the time. She used to dream about his kiss, his smile, his gorgeous violet eyes, his body holding hers. There was never supposed to be anyone else.
What if she'd been wrong about Daniel? What if she could be happier--or happy, period--with another guy?
Miles pulled away, looking happy and sad at the same time. "So, goodnight." He turned away, almost like he was going to bolt back toward his room. But then he turned back. And took her hand. "If you ever feel like things aren't working out, you know, with ..." He looked up at the sky. "I'm here. Just wanted you to know."
Luce nodded, already battling a rolling wave of confusion. Miles squeezed her hand, then took o in the other direction, bounding over the sloping shingled roof, back toward his side of the dorm.
Alone, she traced her lips where Miles's had just been. The next time she saw Daniel, would he be able to tell? Her head hurt from all the ups and downs of the day, and she wanted to crawl into bed. As she slipped back through the window into her room, she turned one last time to take in the view, to remember how everything had looked on the night when so many things had changed.
But instead of the stars and trees and crashing waves, Luce's eyes xed on something else behind one of the roof's many chimneys. Something white and billowing. An iridescent pair of wings.
Daniel. Crouched, only half hidden from view, just feet away from where she and Miles had kissed. His back was to her. His head was hanging.
"Daniel," she called out, feeling her voice catch on his name.
When he turned to face her, the drawn look on his face was one of absolute agony. As if Luce had just ripped his heart out. He bent his knees, unfurled his wings, and took o into the night.
A moment later, he looked like just another star in the sparkling black sky.
Chapter Sixteen
THREE DAYS
At breakfast the next morning, Luce could hardly eat anything.
It was the last day of classes before Shoreline dismissed the students for Thanksgiving break, and Luce was already feeling lonely. Loneliness in a crowd of people was the worst kind of loneliness, but she couldn't help it. All the students around her were chattering happily about going home to their families. About the girl or guy they hadn't seen since summer break. About the parties their best friends were throwing over the weekend.
The only party Luce was going to this weekend was the pity party in her empty dorm room.
Of course, a few other students from the main school were staying put over the break: Connor Madson, who had come to Shoreline from an orphanage in Minnesota. Brenna Lee, whose parents lived in China. Francesca and Steven were staying, too--surprise, surprise--and were hosting a Thanksgiving dinner-for-the-displaced in the mess hall Thursday night.
Luce was holding out one hope: That Arriane's threat to keep an eye on her included Thanksgiving break. Then again, she'd barely seen the girl since Arriane had taken the three of them back to Shoreline. Only for that brief moment at Harvest Fest.
Everyone else was checking out in the next day or two. Miles to his family's one-hundred-plus-person catered event. Dawn and Jasmine to their families' joint gathering at Jasmine's Sausalito mansion. Even Shelby--though she hadn't said a word to Luce about going back to Bakers eld--had been on the phone with her mom the day before, groaning, "Yes. I know. I'll be there."
It was the worst possible time for Luce to be left alone. The stew of her inner turmoil grew thicker every day, until she didn't know how to feel about Daniel or anyone else. And she couldn't stop cursing herself for how stupid she'd been the night before, letting Miles go so far.
All night long, she kept arriving at the same conclusion: Even though she was upset with Daniel, what had happened with Miles wasn't anyone's fault but hers. She was the one who'd cheated.
It made her physically ill to think of Daniel sitting out there, watching, saying nothing as she and Miles kissed; to imagine how he must have felt when he took o from her roof. The way she'd felt when she rst heard about whatever had happened between Daniel and Shelby--only worse, because this was bona de cheating. One more thing to add to the list of proofs that she and Daniel could not seem to communicate.
A soft laugh brought her back to her uneaten breakfast.
Francesca was gliding around the tables in a long black-and-white polka-dotted cape. Every time Luce glanced over at her, she had that saccharine smile stuck on her face and was deep in conversation with one student or another, but Luce still felt under heavy scrutiny. As if Francesca could bore into Luce's mind and know exactly what had made Luce lose her appetite. Like the wild white peonies that had disappeared without a trace from their border overnight, so too could Francesca's belief disappear that Luce was strong.
"Why so glum, chum?" Shelby swallowed a large wedge of bagel. "Believe me, you didn't miss that much last night."
Luce didn't answer. The bon re on the beach was the furthest thing from her mind. She'd just noticed Miles trudging to breakfast, much later than he usually did. His Dodgers cap was tugged low over his eyes, and his shoulders looked a little stooped. Involuntarily, her ngers went to her lips.
Shelby was waving amboyantly, both arms over her head. "What is he, blind? Earth to Miles!"
When she nally caught his attention, Miles gave their table a clumsy wave, practically tripping over the to-go bu et. He waved again, then disappeared behind the mess hall.
"Is it me or has Miles been acting like a total spaz recently?" Shelby rolled her eyes and imitated Miles's goofy stumble.
But Luce was dying to stumble after him and--
And what? Tell him not to feel embarrassed? That the kiss had been her fault, too? That having a crush on a train wreck like her was only going to end badly? That she liked him, but so many things about it--them--were impossible? That even though she and Daniel were ghting right now, nothing could ever really threaten their love?
"Anyway, like I was saying," Shelby continued, re lling Luce's co ee from the bronze carafe on the table. "Bon re, hedonism, blah blah blah. These things can be so tedious." One side of Shelby's mouth inched to an almost-smile. "Especially, you know, when you're not around."
Luce's heart unclenched just a little. Every once in a while, Shelby let in the tiniest ray of light. But then her roommate quickly shrugged, as if to say Don't let it go to your head.
"No one else appreciates my Lilith impersonation. That's all." Shelby straightened her spine, heaved her chest forward, and made the right side of her top lip quiver disapprovingly.
Shelby's Lilith impersonation had never failed to crack Luce up. But today all she could manage was a thin closed-mouth smile.
"Hmmm," Shelby said. "Not that you'd care what you missed at the party. I noticed Daniel ying away over the beach last night. You two must have had a lot to catch up on."
Shelby had seen Daniel? Why hadn't she mentioned it sooner? Could anyone else have seen him?
"We didn't even talk."
"That's hard to believe. He's usually so full of orders to give you--"
"Shelby, Miles kissed me," Luce interrupted. Her eyes were closed. For some reason, that made it easier to confess. "Last night. And Daniel saw everything. He took o before I could--"
"Yeah, that would do it." Shelby let out a low whistle. "This is kind of huge."
Luce's face burned with shame. Her mind couldn't shake the image of Daniel taking ight. It felt so nal.
"So is it, you know, over between you and Daniel?"
"No. Never." Luce couldn't even hear that phrase without shuddering. "I just don't know." "No. Never." Luce couldn't even hear that phrase without shuddering. "I just don't know."
She hadn't told Shelby the rest of what she'd glimpsed in the Announcer, that Daniel and Cam were working together. Were secret pals, as far as she could tell. Shelby wouldn't know who Cam was, anyway, and the history was way too complicated to explain. Besides, Luce wouldn't be able to stand it if Shelby, with her oh-so-deliberately-controversial views about angels and demons, tried to make a case that a partnership between Daniel and Cam wasn't that big a deal.
"You know Daniel's gonna be all screwed up over it right now. Isn't that Daniel's big thing--the undying devotion you two share?"
Luce sti ened in her white iron chair.
"I wasn't being sarcastic, Luce. So maybe, I don't know, Daniel's been involved with other people. It's all pretty nebulous. The take-home message, like I said before, is that there was never a question in his mind that you were the only one that mattered."
"That's supposed to make me feel better?"
"I don't claim to be in the business of making you feel better, I'm just trying to illustrate a point. For all Daniel's annoying aloofness--and there's plenty of it--the guy's clearly devoted. The real question here is: Are you? As far as Daniel knows, you could drop him as soon as someone else comes along. Miles has come along. And he's obviously a great guy. A little sappy for my taste, but--"
"I would never drop Daniel," Luce said aloud, desperately wanting to believe it.
She thought about the horror on his face the night they'd argued on the beach. She was stunned when he'd been so quick to ask: Are we breaking up? Like he suspected that was a possibility. Like she hadn't swallowed whole his entire insane story about their endless love when he'd told her under the peach trees at Sword & Cross. She had swallowed it, in one single believing gulp, ingesting all its ssures, too--the jagged pieces that made no sense but begged her to believe them at the time. Now, every day, another of them gnawed at her insides. She could feel the biggest one rising up in her throat: