lab incident, did you?” Her response startled him.
He twisted around.
She looked worn, shadows rimming her dusky brown eyes. Her lips were cracked, and she was shivering. He had a strange desire to comfort her, but he knew better than to make any sudden movements.
“No, I—” Dane started to answer.
“And you didn’t come to the lab that morning to threaten me?”
“Of course not.”
She ran a hand against the peeled molding of a windowsill. “And you didn’t intend to threaten me . . . that first day we were sparring in physical combat?”
Where was this going? He shook his head, now completely off balance, and lifted a knee off the plywood. “Why would I do that?”
“I’m not sure.” Her voice vibrated just a bit. “I’m not sure why you would do those things. Or why you would make fun of me in class—”
What?
“—when you barely knew me. Or why you would break into a computer lab without taking the least trouble to cover your tracks.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“You wanted to be caught, didn’t you?” Her words fell like glass splinters onto clean boards.
To argue would negate the truth of his other denials. His right hand flexed, reaching blindly for the hammer. Not there. Dimly he remembered that he had dropped the tool on his other side.
“Why?” She asked the question he had prided himself on avoiding.
“Why what?”
“Why try to get caught?”
He stood up, hoping the movement would give him confidence. It failed utterly. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he shrugged, providing no answer.
She was undeterred. “You must have assumed I would be blamed. You’re not stupid.”
Right. “Look, Aerin, sometimes when I’m angry, I don’t think.” How many times had Pete warned Dane against that exact failing?
“Why were you angry?”
He was not going to answer that, not for anyone. He had assumed his father would pull him from the school. The entire point of the break-in had been to preempt that fact and attract enough attention to embarrass the General. But the press had never gotten hold of the story, and, for some unfathomable reason, Dane was still here.
He and Aerin stood for a while, each looking at the other without really seeing. For Dane, the face in front of him, the pipes, the boards, even the massive stone building and the sweeping school grounds disappeared. His thoughts wandered around inside himself, careening down hidden passages and bumping into corners.
And judging by Aerin’s eventual response, her thoughts traveled inward as well. She slumped down against a clean window and whispered, “I don’t know why I do this to myself.”
He waited, not sure what to say. Little of this conversation had made any sense, not that he had helped clarify things when given the chance.
The lull lasted another ten seconds before she lashed out at him. “I convinced myself you were the devil, you know!”
“No,” he teased, “I’d never have guessed.”
“And all the time . . .” She brought her hand to her forehead, then smoothed it back through her windblown hair. “You weren’t thinking anything about me.”
A grin clung to the corners of his mouth. That was more of an understatement than he cared to admit. “Actually, my backside has thought about you quite a bit.”
She blinked.
“After physical combat,” he explained, remembering the first time she had knocked the wind out of him. It had left him stunned. He had never met anyone who moved the way she did. But then she wasn’t from here.
He took a deep breath, then dropped his voice. “I’m sorry I frightened you earlier. You really shouldn’t worry, Aerin. You’re one of the strongest first-years in the school. Everyone knows you deserve your place.”
Doubt lay naked in her face. “Not everyone.”
He squinted at her, trying to figure out who she meant. The principal maybe, because of the trouble he had brought down on her.
Then Aerin stammered, “How . . . how did
He twisted around.
She looked worn, shadows rimming her dusky brown eyes. Her lips were cracked, and she was shivering. He had a strange desire to comfort her, but he knew better than to make any sudden movements.
“No, I—” Dane started to answer.
“And you didn’t come to the lab that morning to threaten me?”
“Of course not.”
She ran a hand against the peeled molding of a windowsill. “And you didn’t intend to threaten me . . . that first day we were sparring in physical combat?”
Where was this going? He shook his head, now completely off balance, and lifted a knee off the plywood. “Why would I do that?”
“I’m not sure.” Her voice vibrated just a bit. “I’m not sure why you would do those things. Or why you would make fun of me in class—”
What?
“—when you barely knew me. Or why you would break into a computer lab without taking the least trouble to cover your tracks.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
“You wanted to be caught, didn’t you?” Her words fell like glass splinters onto clean boards.
To argue would negate the truth of his other denials. His right hand flexed, reaching blindly for the hammer. Not there. Dimly he remembered that he had dropped the tool on his other side.
“Why?” She asked the question he had prided himself on avoiding.
“Why what?”
“Why try to get caught?”
He stood up, hoping the movement would give him confidence. It failed utterly. Sliding his hands into his pockets, he shrugged, providing no answer.
She was undeterred. “You must have assumed I would be blamed. You’re not stupid.”
Right. “Look, Aerin, sometimes when I’m angry, I don’t think.” How many times had Pete warned Dane against that exact failing?
“Why were you angry?”
He was not going to answer that, not for anyone. He had assumed his father would pull him from the school. The entire point of the break-in had been to preempt that fact and attract enough attention to embarrass the General. But the press had never gotten hold of the story, and, for some unfathomable reason, Dane was still here.
He and Aerin stood for a while, each looking at the other without really seeing. For Dane, the face in front of him, the pipes, the boards, even the massive stone building and the sweeping school grounds disappeared. His thoughts wandered around inside himself, careening down hidden passages and bumping into corners.
And judging by Aerin’s eventual response, her thoughts traveled inward as well. She slumped down against a clean window and whispered, “I don’t know why I do this to myself.”
He waited, not sure what to say. Little of this conversation had made any sense, not that he had helped clarify things when given the chance.
The lull lasted another ten seconds before she lashed out at him. “I convinced myself you were the devil, you know!”
“No,” he teased, “I’d never have guessed.”
“And all the time . . .” She brought her hand to her forehead, then smoothed it back through her windblown hair. “You weren’t thinking anything about me.”
A grin clung to the corners of his mouth. That was more of an understatement than he cared to admit. “Actually, my backside has thought about you quite a bit.”
She blinked.
“After physical combat,” he explained, remembering the first time she had knocked the wind out of him. It had left him stunned. He had never met anyone who moved the way she did. But then she wasn’t from here.
He took a deep breath, then dropped his voice. “I’m sorry I frightened you earlier. You really shouldn’t worry, Aerin. You’re one of the strongest first-years in the school. Everyone knows you deserve your place.”
Doubt lay naked in her face. “Not everyone.”
He squinted at her, trying to figure out who she meant. The principal maybe, because of the trouble he had brought down on her.
Then Aerin stammered, “How . . . how did