The following morning, in Chem class, Lyla checked her phone.
8:16.
She let out a long sigh. Prepared to spend the day with Jack, she was neatly dressed and had even gone so far as to wear makeup. She hoped she hadn't overdone it.
A young teacher, Mr. Haskins, stood at the whiteboard. His preferred method of engaging his students involved pacing energetically and speaking with far more enthusiasm than was appreciated, especially so early in the morning.
"How do we make the atoms for each side of the equation the same?" he asked.
Alison's hand went up. "By assigning coefficients."
"That's right." He wrote a Chem equation on the board.
Lyla glanced at her phone.
8:17.
The teacher grinned and said cheerfully, "Don't forget that the total charge has to be the same for both sides of the equation, too. They need to be balanced atomically and electrically, right?"
Students mumbled in agreement.
She checked her phone.
8:19.
She groaned.
For twenty minutes, she suffered through the remainder of Chem class. There wasn't the slightest chance that she could concentrate on endothermic and exothermic chemical processes when her thoughts were miles away on a rural two-lane road. And of course on Jack.
When first period finally ended at 8:40 A.M., Lyla raced out of the classroom, down the hall, and ducked into the empty bathroom. On the mirror was written HIDE N SEEK in lettering that looked like blood. Hopefully, it was lipstick.
Before she could catch her breath, Darcy entered.
"Jumpy much?"
She replied with a polite grin.
"You want my notes from The Awakening?"
"Uh, not right now." She combed her hair at the mirror. The taunting message had disappeared. She glanced at her neck and found no visible traces of a burrowing snake or of a blue tattoo.
"I'm not sure what's happening here. I mean, you got a date or something?"
"What?!"
"You're wearing makeup and everything."
Lyla deflected with a fake smile. "Just trying to keep up appearances."
"Keep up appearances? Sounds like something my grandma would say."
Two girls from the dance team waltzed in, scowling as they walked past. Darcy stuck her tongue out at them. One of the girls flipped her off.
When the class bell rang, she shouldered her bag and exited, Darcy by her side.
Richie waited for them in the hallway.
"Well, what a shock!" Richie arched his sculpted eyebrows in mock amazement. "Ms. Okumura let us in on her little secret today. She's pregnant!" He gasped dramatically.
Darcy chuckled.
"Like everybody in the world didn't know that her eggo was preggo since February." He rolled his eyes. "How you gonna hide a baby bump when you only weigh sixty-five pounds?"
Lyla didn't even smile at his quip.
As Richie and Darcy began walking down the hall, she remained in place glancing at the exit door at the opposite end of the hallway.
"C'mon, girl." Darcy waved. "We're gonna be late."
"Go on. I'll catch up."
Darcy whispered something to Richie. He looked over his shoulder at Lyla as she made her move toward the exit.
Once outside the building, she checked her phone.
9:02.
She ran. She turned the corner and picked up the pace when she saw Jack's car parked at the bagel shop.
He got out of his car and noticed her racing toward him.
"Sorry I'm late," she panted.
"You're not late."
"Well, I couldn't... I didn't wanna be... late."
"You hungry? You wanna get something?"
"I already had breakfast. Maybe just a coffee."
They went inside.
She caught herself staring at Jack when he placed his order. He was picture-perfect with his strong jawline, chiseled features, dimples, and of course, those warm brown eyes. Her heart pounded but not from running. She diverted her attention elsewhere. She didn't want to hear the I'm-madly-in-love-with-Carissa speech again.
And then the sharp blade of reality sliced through Lyla's romantic haze. She and Jack weren't going to enjoy the afternoon making out on a blanket amidst a meadow of wildflowers. They weren't planning to sneak off into the woods for an afternoon of lovemaking. There was only reason Lyla and Jack were spending the day together. To find the remains of the decomposing corpse of Keenan Ames. Nothing romantic about that.