“Hi,” she said. Kids had been gossiping about him all day. Currently, the favorite story was that he was one of the troublemakers who lived at the D and M Ranch owned by Dan Reeves. Oh, and he’d killed both his parents. By this time tomorrow, he would have killed a sister and brother, too, she was sure.

Mary Ann had seen Dan around town and had heard the stories about him. Supposedly, his parents had died young and he’d lived with his grandparents. He’d been wild and in constant trouble with the law, yet he’d also been magic on the football field and managed to go pro. Only a few years in, though, he’d hurt his back and had to quit, at which point he’d decided to open his home to boys as troubled as he’d once been. Still. Most of the people in Crossroads still worshipped him—even though they disapproved of who he allowed to live with him.

Shannon flicked her a nervous glance. “Hi.”

“I’m Mary Ann Gray. If you need anything, I—”

“I—I—I won’t need anything,” he rushed out. A clear dismissal.

“Oh. Okay.” Wow, that stung. “Just…maybe stay away from the football players. They like to torture the new kids. Their way of welcoming them, I guess.” Her cheeks were hot for the second time that day as she claimed her rightful seat. The rest of the class filed inside just as the bell rang.

Before Mr. Thompson discussed the age of imperialism, he had Shannon stand at the front of the class and tell everyone a little about himself, an exercise he stuttered his way through, kids laughing the entire time. Mary Ann lost the threads of her own humiliation. No wonder he’d sent her away. He didn’t like conversing with people. It embarrassed him.

She smiled at him as he made his way back to his seat, but he didn’t see. He kept his eyes fixed on the painted concrete at his feet.

They shared their next class, too. Computer science. They sat close to each other, but she didn’t try and talk to him. Not again, not yet. He’d probably just reject her again.

Tucker was in the class, as well. He’d sat next to Mary Ann until last week, when Ms. Goodwin had moved him for talking.

“Hey, Tuck,” Shane whispered from across the room.

Tucker looked. So did Mary Ann and a few others in the room. Not Shannon, though. As he had in the last class, he kept his head down.

Shane motioned toward Shannon with a tilt of his chin. Do something, he mouthed.

Mary Ann clutched the edge of her desk. “Don’t,” she said. “Please.”

“Miss Gray,” the teacher admonished. “That’s enough from you.”

“I’m sorry,” she managed to choke out. She’d gone nearly all month without getting in trouble, yet she’d been reprimanded twice in one day.

Tucker mouthed, “Don’t worry” and raised his hand, drawing attention away from her.

Ms. Goodwin sighed. “Yes, Mr. Harbor.”

“Can I go to the bathroom?”

“I don’t know. Can you?”

He glowered. “May I?”

“Fine. But do not loiter or you’ll find yourself in detention tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tucker stood. He walked from the room and shut the door, and Mary Ann’s shoulders hunched in relief. Scene avoided.

Only, Tucker never veered from the door.

He peered through its small, square window at Shane. Shane held out his hands and Tucker nodded.

Shane stood, and he was suddenly clutching a slithering, hissing snake. Thin, with yellow and green scales and a bright red head. A lump of fear knotted Mary Ann’s throat, cutting off her gasp. Dear God. Where had it come from? How had it appeared seemingly out of thin air?

Shane glanced at Ms. Goodwin to make sure she wasn’t paying attention. She wasn’t, too lost in showing the twins, Brittany and Brianna Buchannan, how to create a password for their pages. Grinning, he tossed the snake at Shannon. It landed on his shoulder, then fell onto his thighs with a hiss.

Shannon glanced down. He jolted to his feet with a scream, patting down his body with frantic hands. The snake hit the ground and slithered to the wall, disappearing beyond the stucco.

Everyone looked at him and laughed.

“How dare you disrupt my class, young man!”

“B-but th-the s-s-snake.”

Ms. Goodwin anchored her hands on her padded hips. “What are you talking about? There is no snake. You may be new, but one thing you need to know. I will not tolerate lies.”

Panting, Shannon swept his eyes across the floor. Mary Ann followed his gaze. There was no hole, no way the snake could have escaped, yet it was gone. She returned her attention to Tucker, who was still at the door. He and Shane were smiling at each other, beaming at a job well done.

SIX

“YOU…HELPED ME.” Aden emerged from the school building to wait outside for Shannon—knowing the dreg may or may not want to walk home with him but willing to chance it. Good as he felt, he might have waited for the devil himself. Perhaps he’d even see Mary Ann in the crowd.

The last class of the day hadn’t yet let out, so for now he was alone. He pressed against the red brick at the side of the structure, partially hidden by shadows.

“Why?” he asked.

You want to attend this school, Eve said, and we want you to be happy. Of course we helped you.

“But you hate Mary Ann.”

I don’t, she said. Like you, I want to spend more time with her. She’s a mystery I’m determined to solve.

Well, I do hate her, Caleb said. Girl freaking shoves me into that black hole with barbed wire on the sides. But you like her, and I love you. The last was spoken in a grumble.

“I love you guys, too.”

He’d thought they would fight him every step of the way, screaming while he tried to take the tests, distracting him. Instead, they’d done something they’d never done before: remained quiet for an extended period of time. He’d read without interruption, solved equations without enduring commentary about how he was doing it wrong, and drew no notice from those around him because he was seemingly talking to himself.

He’d more than passed. He’d excelled.

He was smiling as a girl walked past him, her gaze nearly burning a hole in his forehead. She had the same glittery skin the woman at the supercenter had had, and Aden found himself turning away just in case she wanted to talk. And then talk some more. Thankfully, she kept moving.

And who knows, Elijah said on a sigh. Maybe Mary Ann can help us get out of here and into bodies of our own.

What a difference! Only last week Elijah had experienced that “bad feeling.” Aden wanted to ask what had changed, but didn’t, too afraid the answer might sway his companions yet again.

A bell sounded.

I’m proud of you, my man, Julian said. You’re officially a student now. How’s it feel?

Behind him, footsteps echoed. Even from here, he could hear the slam of lockers and the murmur of voices.

“Feels great. But, uh, maybe we could try the quiet thing more often,” Aden suggested.

All four laughed as if he’d just told a joke about Caleb getting hot.

He stepped into the sunlight, watching the front door. Kids spilled out in a rush.

Julian was the first to calm. You, at least, can move around when you’re bored. We’re stuck. Talking is the only thing we can do. Our only distraction.

“H-hey,” a familiar voice said from behind him.

Aden whipped around, not liking having someone at his back. Shannon stood there, peering at the parking lot rather than Aden. Where had he come from and how had Aden missed him? Then he spied other kids coming out of other doors and realized there was more than one exit.

“Hey,” he replied. Bummer. No way he could watch every door for Mary Ann.

“L-listen,” Shannon said. There was a hard gleam in his eyes. Rough first day? “I know w-we don’t like each other and y-you’ve got no reason to trust m-me, but we’ve only g-got each other h-here. And, well, if you’ll guard m-my back, I’ll g-guard yours.”

His eyes widened with shock.

“So, truce?”

Seriously? He didn’t know if a truce would mean they’d also look out for each other at the ranch, too, but he didn’t care. “Truce,” he said. Honestly, could this day get any better?

“Shannon, you forgot your syllabus.”

Aden recognized the lilting female voice, but it was the surge of needle-sharp wind over his skin, the moans—and then the silence—that told him exactly who approached. Mary Ann. The day could get much better, it seemed.

His gaze quickly found her. Her arm was extended, a piece of paper clutched between her fingers.

Shannon turned. His shoulders immediately hunched, as if he wanted to hide inside himself.

Aden’s heart began slamming against his ribs. Finally. He was with her again.

The sun gleamed behind her, framing her in gold. She tripped over her own feet when she spotted him, her skin leaching of color. Thankfully, she didn’t hit the ground, just slowed her step and lowered her arm.

“Aden?”

“Hello, Mary Ann.” The urge to hug her returned. So did the urge to run. Caleb would have said she was heaven and hell wrapped in the same pretty package. A friend and a foe. Both a hunter and the prey.

Wary, she stopped in front of him. “I didn’t expect to see you again.”

Had she preferred it that way? Her neutral tone gave nothing away. “As of today, I’m a student here.”

“That’s wonder—Your eyes,” she said, blinking up at him. “They’re blue. But I thought they were black. Or rather, lots of colors then black. Not one solid color.”

So. She’d noticed the way they changed each time one of the souls spoke. He fused his top and bottom lashes, blocking the color from her view. “They change with what I wear,” he lied. A lie he used often.

“Oh,” she said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

How could he ever have mistaken her for his brunette? he wondered. Even momentarily? Yes, they both had dark hair and yes, both were pretty, but up close, he could see that Mary Ann was more planes and angles; Vision Girl was more curved. Mary Ann even had a few freckles scattered over her nose, while Vision Girl had none.