Helen saw the other boy lunge at her, but he was stopped by Lucas,
who threw out an arm and sent him flying back into the lockers behind
them. Then her whole body stopped and strained.
Cassandra! Stay where you are, Lucas called over Helens
shoulder, his face no more than an inch away from hers. Shes
very strong.
Helens arms burned and the little bones in her wrists felt like
they were grinding together. Lucas was holding her by the wrists to
keep her hands away from his neck, she realized. They were locked
in a stalemate, and if she could get her fingers half an inch closer,
she could reach his throat.
And then what? a little voice in her head asked. Choke the life out
of him! answered another.
Lucass achingly blue eyes widened in surprise. Helen was winning.
One of her long nails grazed the pulsing skin covering the fat
artery she itched to slit. Then, before she could process what was
happening, Lucas spun her around and clamped her to his chest,
restraining her arms against her breast and standing between her
legs. The position hed forced her into kept her off balance and unable
to bring her heel down on his instep. She was immobile.
Who are you? What is your House? he breathed into her ear,
giving her a rough shake to punctuate his point. She was beyond
understanding language.
Outmaneuvered and helpless, she started to scream with rage,
then stopped herself. Now that she couldnt see his eyes she was
becoming aware of the fact that half the schools faculty was trying
to tear her off him. Everyone was staring.
Helen doubled over in agony as her abdomen seized up with
cramps. Lucas immediately let her go as if shed turned into a lit
42/395
match, his body convulsing spasmodically, and she dropped to the
floor.
Miss Hamilton! Miss . . . Helen. Helen, look at me, said Mr.
Hergeshimer. He was kneeling on the floor next to her while she
panted, trying to relax her muscles. She looked up at his sweaty
face. His hair was messed up and his glasses had been knocked
sideways on his face in the fight. She wondered for a moment if she
had been the one to hit him, and then she burst into tears.
Whats wrong with me? she whimpered softly.
Its all right, now. Calm down, Mr. Hergeshimer said sternly.
All of you had better get to class. Immediately! he roared to the
throngs of kids standing around with their mouths open. Everyone
scattered as Mr. Hergeshimer stood up and took charge.
You boys, he pointed at Lucas and Jason, are to come with me
to the principals office. Mr. Millis! Miss Aoki! You are to take Miss
Hamilton to the nurses office and then go directly to your next
classes. Understood?
Matt immediately stepped forward and put Helens arm over his
shoulder, helping her to stand. Claire took Helens hand and held it
reassuringly. Helen glanced up and saw Lucas looking back over
his shoulder at her as he went quietly with Mr. Hergeshimer.
Another wave of loathing broke over her, and fresh tears lined up
in her eyes. Matt guided her while she cried, awkwardly patting her
hair and getting her to walk toward the nurse at the same time.
Claire walked on Helens other side, shaken and silent.
What did he do to you, Lennie? Matt asked hotly.
Ive never seen him b-b-before in my l-l-life! Helen hiccuped
and cried even harder.
Great idea, Matt! Ask her questions! Can you shut the hell up
now? Claire snapped, trying to get hold of herself.
They walked the rest of the way without talking. When they got to
the nurses office, they told Mrs. Crane what had happened and
made sure to add that Helen had come to school with heatstroke
43/395
that morning. Mrs. Crane had Helen lie down with a cool towel
over her eyes and went back into her office to call Jerry.
Your fathers on his way, dear. No, no, keep your eyes covered.
Darkness will help, Mrs. Crane said as she passed by Helens cot.
Helen heard her rush out to the hall to speak to someone briefly,
then come back in and sit behind her desk.
Helen lay under the towel, grateful that she was being left alone
and in relative privacy. She couldnt think two coherent thoughts
in a row, let alone explain herself to anyone. What scared her the
most was that for some reason she knew that what she had tried to
do was right, or at least that it was expected of her. Deep inside,
she knew she would have killed that boy if she could, and she
didnt even feel guilty about it. Until she saw her father.
He was a mess. Mrs. Crane told him everything that had
happened, explaining that Helen was suffering from a serious case
of heatstroke and that it may have caused her strange outburst. He
listened patiently and then asked Mrs. Crane for a moment alone
with his daughter, which she gave them.
Jerry didnt say anything at first; he just sort of hovered over
Helens cot while she sat up and fidgeted with her necklace. Finally,
he sat down next to her.
You wouldnt lie to me right now, would you? he asked softly.
She shook her head. Are you sick?
I dont know, Dad. I dont feel rightbut I dont know whats
wrong, she told him earnestly.
Weve got to take you to the doctor, you know.
I figured, she said, nodding. They smiled at each other, and
then suddenly they both turned their heads at the sound of hurried
footsteps coming toward the nurses office.
Jerry stood up and faced the door, putting himself in front of
Helen. A tall, impossibly fit man in his early forties burst into the
room. Helen jumped off the cot and stood on the other side of it,
44/395
glancing around instinctively for another exit. There wasnt one.
Helen had the feeling that she was going to die.
In the corner of the tiny office, one of the sobbing sisters appeared.
She was hunkered down on her knees, her face covered by
her filthy hair, moaning names and saying blood for blood as she
hit her forehead repeatedly against the wall.
Helen put her hands over her ears. She pulled her eyes away from
the horror in the corner and mustered enough courage to look back
at the large man. A spark of recognition passed between them. She
had never seen him before, but somehow she knew that she should
be very afraid of him. At first his angular face was set with determination,
but it quickly morphed into shock and then confusion. His
eyes zeroed in on Jerry, and a nearly comical look of disbelief derailed
what might have been a terrible fight.
Are you . . . are you the father of the young lady that attacked my
son? he asked in a halting voice.
Jerry nodded curtly. My daughter, Helen, he said, gesturing
back to her. Im Jerry Hamilton.
Castor Delos, the big man replied. My wife, Noel, wont be able
to make it. And Helens mother?
Jerry shook his head. Its just Lennie and me, he said with
finality.
Castors eyes darted to Helen and back to Jerry and he pursed his
lips as if he had set something right in his head. Pardon me. I
didnt mean to bring up personal matters. Is there any way you and
I might have a word alone?
NO! Helen shouted. She lunged across the cot, grabbing her
fathers arm and yanking him away from Castor.
What is wrong with you? Jerry shouted. He tried, and failed, to
shake Helen off.
Please dont go anywhere with him! she begged, tears welling
up in her eyes.
45/395
Jerry made a frustrated sound, put his arms around Helen and
held her reassuringly. She hasnt been well, he explained to
Castor, who looked on with sympathy.
I have a daughter, Castor replied gently as if that explained
everything.
Mrs. Crane and the principal, Dr. Hoover, rushed into the room
as if they had been trying to catch up to Castor.
Mr. Delos, the principal began in an irritated voice, but Castor
talked over him.
I hope your daughter feels better soon, Jerry. Ive had heatstroke
myself, and I was told I did all kinds of strange things. It can
make you hallucinate, you know, he said to no one in particular.
Helen saw him glance quickly at her and then into the corner
where the sobbing sister was still rocking back and forth. Did he
see her, too, she wondered, and if he did, how the heck could two
people share a hallucination?
Well . . . okay. Theres no animosity then? Dr. Hoover said uncertainly,
looking from Castor to Jerry.
Not on my part, nor on my sons, Im sure. Im more concerned
about you, young lady, Castor said, turning politely to Helen.
Luke told me he had to be, well, a bit rough. Did he hurt you?
Castor inquired. On the surface, it seemed like he had extraordinarily
good manners, but Helen didnt buy it. He was just trying to
gauge how strong she was.
Im fine, she replied tartly. Not a scratch.
His eyes widened ever so slightly. She didnt know why she was
baiting a full-grown man, a very big man in the prime of his life at
that, but she simply couldnt help herself. Usually, she hated arguments
so much she couldnt even bear to watch those trashy daytime
talk shows where everyone screamed at each other, and here
she was for the second time in half an hour looking to mix it up
with someone much bigger and stronger than she was. Thankfully,
she wasnt as desperate to kill Castor the way she had been with his
46/395
son. No one had ever enraged Helen the way that Lucas had, but
she still wanted to put a few dents in Castors fender. That urge
confused her deeply.
Im glad youre all right, Castor said with a smile, diffusing the
situation. He turned to the principal and made it clear that he and
his family did not want Helen punished. As far as he was concerned
Helen had been ill, and the whole incident should be forgotten.
He left as abruptly as he had entered.
As soon as Castors footsteps faded away, the sobbing sister vanished
and the whispering stopped. Helen no longer felt angry. She
slumped down onto the cot like a balloon with a fast leak.
Youd best take her home now, Jerry, Mrs. Crane said with a
no-nonsense voice and a comforting smile. Lots of fluids, no direct
light, and get her to take a cool bath to bring her core temperature
down. All right?
Sure, Mrs. Crane. Thanks a lot, Jerry replied, reverting back to
the teenaged boy he had been the last time he was in Mrs. Cranes
office.
Helen kept her head down on their way out to the parking lot, but
she could feel the other students staring at her as she passed. As
she jumped up into the passenger seat of the Pig she saw the door
by the principals office open and the two Delos boys leaving with
Castor. Lucass eyes went straight to hers and held them. Castor
pulled up and put his hand on the back of his sons neck, talking to
him. Finally, Lucas broke his stare contest with Helen and looked
at his father briefly before nodding and looking at the ground.
It started to rain. One, then two, then three big, fat drops of summer
rain splashed down, and suddenly the air was full of water.
Helen slammed her door shut and glanced over at her father, who
was also looking back at the Delos family.
Which one did you jump? Jerry asked, fighting a grin.
The bigger one, Helen answered, a half smile of her own creeping
up her face.
47/395
Jerry looked at Helen, whistled once, and started the engine.
Youre lucky he didnt seriously hurt you, he said, not joking
around anymore.
Helen nodded meekly, but she was thinking that Lucas was the
lucky one. The strangeness of her own thoughts scared her silent
for the rest of the drive home.
48/395
UNCORRECTED E-PROOFNOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
.....................................................................
Chapter Four
Helen sat in a bathtub of cold water, the lights in the
bathroom switched off, and listened to the phone ring
over and over. She didnt know what to say to anyone
and every time she thought about attacking Lucas
Delos in front of the entire school she groaned out loud
in humiliation. She would have to leave the country, or at least
Nantucket, because there was no way she could live down the fact
that she had tried to strangle the hottest boy on the island.
She groaned again and splashed her face, which was still finding
a way to blush even though she was submerged in freezing-cold
water. Now that she wasnt being driven half crazy with rage she
could think about Lucas objectively, and she decided that Claire
hadnt been exaggerating when she said he was the best-looking
boy she had ever seen. Helen agreed with her. She had been trying
to kill him, but she wasnt blind. Normal boys simply werent put
together the way he was.
It wasnt his height or his coloring or his muscles that made him
so beautiful, she concluded. It was the way he moved. She had only