Total pages in book: 78
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87395 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 437(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 291(@300wpm)
"Thank you," Neil said, but even he heard the uncertainty in it.
Nicky studied him. Neil stared back, refusing to give anything else away. Finally Nicky tweaked Neil's hair. "We'll pick you up at nine, all right? I suggest napping until then. We'll be out all night. We've got all the right contacts to keep the party going until dawn." Nicky grinned and gave Neil's hair another tug. "Speaking of, ditch them tonight. Your contacts, I mean."
Neil's stomach roiled. "Shut up."
Nicky gave an exaggerated look around as if checking for eavesdroppers. "Look, it's not like they're a secret. Anyone who's looking can see the ring in your eyes that means you're wearing lenses. I saw 'em day one. I just didn't think they were fashion lenses until Andrew said so. And seriously? Brown? How boring can you be?"
"I like brown."
"Andrew doesn't," Nicky said. "Take them out."
"No."
"Please," Nicky said. "No one's going to see you but us, and we already know they're a lie. Don't wear them."
"Or what?" Neil asked.
Nicky's silence was answer enough. Neil was ready to brush that warning off, but he caught himself. He was sure he could hold his ground against Andrew, but he wasn't facing Andrew alone. He was going out with Andrew's entire group half the state away from here. Nicky was honestly trying to help him get the night off on the right foot. Neil didn't think much of that consideration. He knew which side Nicky would take if things got ugly.
"Nine," Nicky said again, when Neil didn't answer, and left.
Neil gave him a few minutes' head start. When he was sure the cousins were long gone, he jogged across campus to the library and killed a few hours scouring the news in the computer lab. He picked up a small dinner on the way back to the dorm at one of the university's three convenience stores.
His dorm room was empty. He dimly remembered Matt saying something about going to the movies with Dan. Neil didn't know where Seth was, but luckily he was still gone when it was time for Neil to get ready. He was alone, but Neil checked the lock on the dorm door before gathering his clothes. The bedroom didn't have a lock, which bothered him, but the bathroom did. He shut himself in there to get ready.
When he was finished changing, he took a long minute to study his reflection. He wasn't sure what to make of the result. No matter how many times he and his mother changed their identities and languages, one thing stayed the same: they aimed for nondescript fashion that would blend in with an everyday crowd. Neil wore faded tees and plain jeans and worn sneakers, generally in pale colors that helped wash him out further.
This outfit was the complete opposite, and every piece of it was black. The cargoes were light and cut to accommodate a pair of heavy boots. The shirt was long-sleeved, tight, and fashioned to look like it'd torn through in places. A charcoal inner layer peeked out through the gashes, hiding Neil's skin, but he ran his hands over the cloth a dozen times to make sure there weren't any open holes. He was sure he could feel his scars through the thin cloth.
There was only one thing left to change. Neil's stomach churned a little with nerves when he took his contacts out. He blinked a couple times, adjusting to their absence, and flushed the brown lenses down the toilet. A glance at the mirror almost took his breath away. It'd been over a year since Neil had seen his real eyes, since he never left bed without putting his contacts in. His eyes were a chilly shade of blue that only looked brighter against his black hair and clothes. He couldn't look at them for long; they were his father's eyes.
Neil gathered his clothes and left the bathroom. As he turned into his bedroom to drop his clothes off, he caught a glimpse of Andrew's group in the living room. Andrew had picked his lock again. Neil debated how much damage the thick heels of his new boots would do against Andrew's face and liked what his mind came up with.
He put his laundry into the bottom drawer of his dresser, which he'd decided to use in lieu of a hamper, and turned to see Andrew in the doorway to the bedroom. Andrew lounged against the doorframe, arms folded over his chest, and studied Neil. Neil took the chance to look him over, noting first and foremost the lack of an expression on Andrew's face. Andrew was sober tonight. Neil wondered if Andrew understood the terms of his parole or just didn't care.
Neil couldn't leave with Andrew in the way, so he stopped as close to Andrew as he dared and waited for Andrew to move. Andrew did, but only to reach out for Neil with one hand. Neil tensed as Andrew's fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, but Andrew only wanted to pull Neil's head down. Neil focused on Andrew's cheekbone so as not to go cross-eyed and let Andrew study his eyes.
"Another bit of unexpected honesty," Andrew said. "Any particular reason?"
"Nicky asked nicely. You might try it sometime."
"We already talked about this. I don't ask." Andrew gave Neil another slow once-over and let go. "We're going."
Nicky perked up as the two stepped into the living room, but his happy expression faltered when he got a look at Neil. "Oh, man. Neil, you clean up good. Can I say that, or is that against the rules? Just— damn. Aaron, don't let me get too drunk tonight."
Andrew stopped by Nicky long enough to pull a pack of cigarettes out of his pocket. He lit one, never mind that the dormitory rooms came equipped with smoke detectors, and put his lighter in Nicky's face.
"Don't make me kill you," Andrew said.
Nicky held up his hands in selfdefense. "I know."
"Do you?"
"Promise," Nicky said weakly.
Andrew put his lighter away and left the room. Kevin and Aaron followed. Nicky raked Neil with a last appreciative look and went out to the hall. He waited with Neil while Neil locked the door. They trailed the others downstairs to the car in silence.