Sending a silent apology to the ants, I split my sandwich and hold the other half out to Jesse. “You can’t help me on an empty stomach,” I point out, preempting his refusal. If he thinks I’m acting out of pity or misplaced guilt, he might squash the sandwich in his fist.
Jesse nods sagely, plucking the sandwich from my hand. “So true.”
I drop a sliver of my turkey onto the base of the tree, smiling at the rush of exultant ants.
“Whatcha writing?” I ask a few minutes later, not fully caring. Theclouds are shining a pleasant silver, the turkey to lettuce ratio in my sandwich is perfect, and I have company. He could be scribbling more annoying nicknames to throw at me, for all I care. I’m just happy not to spend another lunch break idly feeding my ant army.
It occurs to me that I’ve never seen him sit with someone during lunch. The table at the far end of the quad serves as his island, severing him from the rest of us lowly creatures.
“I’m getting an outline ready,” Jesse answers after a long moment. His pen rotates between his knuckles, slipping across surprisingly elegant fingers. “We need to find the patterns in the attacks.”
“Outlining on paper?” I wipe a smear of mayo from the corner of my mouth. “Couldn’t fit the typewriter into your backpack?”
Jesse shoots me a disparaging glance. “Anything can get copied off a computer. I don’t want to leave a trace if this goes sideways.”
The bite of turkey turns to sawdust in my mouth. I force myself to swallow. “Goes sideways.”
Jesse’s pen pauses over the page. The answer blooms in our silence, unfurling in black-tipped petals of possibility.She loves me, she loves me not,except now it’sshe dies at a stranger’s hand, at her father’s, in a gas station, in a classroom.The petals curdle into gray ash, but the sticky knob in the center of the flower reads the single, inevitable conclusion: She dies.
“Mansour, hey. Look at me.”
It hasn’t sunk in until now, how close I am to my own death. One misstep. One repeat of the mistake I made with Miss Diaz.
From behind the sheen of tears blanketing my vision, Jesse shifts uncomfortably. Unaccustomed to dealing with a weeping girl, I’d bet. If he plans to stick around, he better get used to it.
“We’re gonna get this thing. I don’t waste my time on lost causes,” Jesse says. He doesn’t shrink from my watery gaze, and his own is colored with such confidence, such unequivocal certainty.
For a dizzying moment, reality splashes cold water on my face, and I regard Jesse warily. He believed what I told him about my trip to my mother’s childhood home without second-guessing, without even a moment of doubt. Why?
“I’m not a cause,” I say, wiping my cheeks. “Why are you helping me, Jesse? Whoareyou?” Nothing makes sense anymore. Before Jesse waltzed in, at least I had an idea about how this thing operated. I could cling to a degree of control. But where does his immunity to possession fit into the picture?
I cross my arms over my chest. “Why can’t the thing possess you?”
He stiffens. I wouldn’t have noticed if I wasn’t watching him so closely. “Maybe I’m a bad host. I always forget to ask if they want tea or coffee to go with my body.”
“That’s not funny.” It is, a little bit, but I maintain my scowl. “How come you knew it wouldn’t possess you? Did you feel it try? Has it happened before?”
Jesse rubs his forehead. Tiny scars mar his palm, crisscrossed over his skin. “God, of everyone at this crap school, it had to be thehomecoming queenwith the curse.”
I ball my fists. “Are you making fun of me?”
“Not successfully, if you have to ask.”
I snatch my backpack from the grass and shove to my feet. “Screw you, Jesse. You don’t know me.”
Storming away in a haze of anger isn’t really an option in my situation. I stomp an embarrassing circuit around the quad, debating between the parking lot and the locker room to finish my lunch.
Jesse catches up. “What’s your deal? I’m trying to help you.”
“By mocking me? I’m already miserable in a thousand different ways that can’t be avoided, but you? Youcanbe avoided. So if you could just leave me to it, that would be great.”
A deep groan tears out of Jesse, startling me. A long arm blocks my circuit around the quad. “Ditch your last class. I’ll explain everything.”
Some of the wind goes out of my sails. Despite my better judgment, I’m curious. Jesse and his dad are our town’s biggest enigmas, and Jesse’s strange immunity to possession has only added to my intrigue.
“I’m not ditching class.”
Jesse rolls his eyes. “Yeah, wouldn’t want to get a blemish on that perfect attendance record.”
