Balthazar by Claudia Gray

merely glass; he’d heard these were fashionable these days and had bought them just to experiment. But hopefully they’d work as part of his disguise, too.
    Double-checking his phone, he saw that Lucas had sent the fake documents he needed. Supposedly there was a twenty-four-hour copy center in town; he’d be able to print those off, and he knew that Lucas and his other friends would provide the phone verifications necessary.
    This could work—if he played his role right. It was all up to him.
    â€œIt’s lucky you showed up today,” said Principal Zaslow, across the desk in her cozy office at Darby Glen High. “There was a car accident last night; we lost our history teacher for at least two months. I had no idea where we were going to find a qualified substitute who could work that long, starting immediately.”
    Balthazar gave her his best, most confident smile. “I’m your man.”

Chapter Eight
    â€œDO YOU REMEMBER THAT THING THAT WENT around about how gang members were going to beat up people at random, for, like, an initiation? And if anybody flashed headlights at you then you had to get out of there because they’d picked you? I bet that’s what happened to Mr. Lovejoy.”
    â€œThat’s so stupid. He was in a car accident.”
    â€œI heard he was driving drunk.”
    â€œHe’d be fired already if that were true. Maybe the person who hit him was drunk and that’s what you heard.”
    â€œYou’re awfully quiet, Skye.” Some girl looked at her with narrow ferret eyes. “What, feeling guilty? Were you the one who ran him down? The rich think they can get away with anything.”
    People laughed. Skye flushed with shame; the taunt struck too close to the truth. What had happened to Mr. Lovejoy was, however indirectly, because of her.
    And it was one more reminder that school was not just unbearable now—it was also unsafe. If Redgrave or any of the other vampires came in here, who was going to stop them? The elderly school secretary who sweetly asked visitors for their ID at the front door? Not likely.
    Maybe it was ridiculous to think that vampires would come barging into Darby Glen High, but she didn’t know how far they’d go, or what they would or wouldn’t risk. Surely they wouldn’t want to kidnap her in public. But who knows?
    She’d gotten up early enough in the morning to walk to the bus while her parents were going to their cars. That wasn’t much protection, but it was something. Here at school, she was totally exposed.
    To everything, including Britnee Fong.
    â€œShould we be quieter?” Britnee was perched on the edge of Craig’s desk; he’d hitched two of his fingers through a belt loop at the waist of her denim skirt. “Because, like, won’t they come in here? And tell us to shut up? Then we’ll get a substitute?”
    Madison glanced at Skye, like My God, that girl is stupid , before she said, “Do you seriously think that we’re not getting a sub? Is your big plan for us to just sit in here silently all semester and hope they don’t notice Mr. Lovejoy is out?”
    â€œIt’s weird they haven’t gotten anyone in here already,” Craig said quickly, obviously trying to stand up for his dimwit girlfriend. “The other teachers are probably pissed off by now.”
    Probably this was true, Skye thought—in the absence of Mr. Lovejoy, her homeroom had gone from hushed voices to the verge of anarchy. So far, the drawings on the dry-erase board weren’t obscene, but they’d probably get there in five more minutes. Wasn’t it bad enough that she was going to have to go through every school day in fear for her life without everybody being completely obnoxious in the bargain? She slumped down over her desk.
    Madison said, “Be careful, Britnee. You don’t want Craig’s desk to collapse under the weight.”
    Skye