"Yeah."

"Good different?"

He paused. "Yeah."

"I'm sorry, Jack. I know exactly how you feel, because I felt it too my first time." When Cole fed off me. I couldn't believe I'd just done the same thing to Jack. How did I let it come to this?

"Your first time?" He grabbed his gla.s.ses off the nightstand and wiped them with the sleeve of his shirt. "Then start there. Tell me what happened."

"I'll try. You remember leaving for football camp?"

"Yeah." Jack rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands and put his gla.s.ses on. "It was the last time I talked to you. You were standing with Cole. Is that when you started to hang out with him?"

"Yes. Going to concerts. Stuff like that." I bit my lip. "Look, I'm just going to try to keep talking, and it may not make sense at first, but if I stop, I won't be able to start again." Jack nodded. "Cole took me rafting one day, with the rest of the band. They wanted to shoot the Tube, and they invited me."

Jack shook his head. "Shooting the Tube after the spring runoff?"

"I know. Not the smartest move." I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. "We hit a rock and I fell out."

He drew in a sharp breath. "He never should have taken you. You're not big enough. Were you hurt?"

"The current dragged me under, and as I kicked to the surface, my leg caught on a branch or rock or something. I couldn't get it free. I practically had to rip my leg off to get to the surface again, and when I did I was bleeding. A lot."

I closed my eyes, remembering strong hands pulling me to the bank of the river. "Hang on, Nik. You'll be okay," Cole said.

"Keep talking. What happened next?" Jack said.

I opened my eyes. "I was lying on the bank. Pressing on the gash." Red liquid had seeped between my fingers.

"I can make it go away," Cole said. "Do you want me to take the pain away?"

Jack placed his hand on my ankle and urged my leg straight. He pushed the hem of my jeans up. The raised skin of my scar twisted from my shin around to the back of my calf in a jagged line.

"Oh," Jack said. He lightly touched the scar and traced the line. "It's deep."

I nodded and watched his hand on my leg, his callused fingers on my skin. Goose b.u.mps appeared and I shivered.

"Are you cold?"

I shook my head and tucked my leg back in, pulling my jeans leg down in the process.

"What happened next?"

"Cole said he could make it feel better. And I let him."

LAST YEAR.

The sh.o.r.e of the rapids. One week before the Feed.

The shivers were violent enough that my teeth bit into my tongue several times. I could taste blood. But I didn't care, because all I could think about was the pain in my leg. It was so bad, I wondered if the leg was still attached, or if it had been ripped off and was floating down the river somewhere.

"She's in shock," a voice said above me.

"My leg," I said. Speaking made me choke. There had to be some river water down my throat. I coughed, throwing up water.

Strong hands helped turn me over, so I wouldn't puke lying on my back.

"You're okay, Nik." Cole's voice.

I needed someone to tell me if I still had my leg. I tried to point to my leg, but my arms flailed about.

"Whoa. Settle down." His voice was soothing. "You're fine."

"Dude, it's gushing blood."

"Shut it, Gavin," Cole growled. "Take off your jacket."

I heard fabric tearing and felt pressure on my leg. "This might hurt a little," Cole said.

Then the real pain hit. Like a hot poker jabbing through the skin and muscle of my leg, burning as it tore its way to my bone.

I screamed. I had to get away from the poker. I thrashed and twisted, trying to free myself.

"Nik! Stay still."

I screamed again and shook my head. Two hands clenched my shoulders, and I heard Cole's voice.

"Nik. Open your eyes." I did. Cole's face was inches from mine. "Do you want me to take the pain away?"

"Cole!" Maxwell said from somewhere behind him.

Cole kept his eyes on me, but he shook his head. "It's not your decision, Max."

"But the exposure," Max said.

"Enough!" Cole growled. "It'll work out."

Maxwell didn't say anything else. I could barely keep my eyes open; the pain in my leg was making everything else blurry, but Cole wouldn't let me move.

"Do you, Nik? Do you want me to help with the pain?"

I nodded, keeping my mouth shut so I wouldn't scream again.

"Tell me. Tell me what you want."

"Please," I said, and then I gasped and tried to grab my leg, but Cole had me pinned. "Make it go away."

Cole leaned even closer, and for a moment I thought he was going to kiss me, but I didn't have the presence of mind to turn away. His lips didn't touch me, though. He closed his eyes and sucked in a deep breath, and with that, the sharpest edges of the pain in my leg dissipated.

He took in several more deep breaths, and each one made the pain less and less, as if I'd been bitten by a snake and he was sucking the venom out. I could finally breathe without wincing, and when Cole asked me if I was okay, all I could answer was, "Keep going."

NOW.

Jack's bedroom.

"So, what, he had drugs or something?"

I shook my head. "The drugs were just a rumor. He..." I couldn't finish. Putting it into words was harder than I thought it would be, and it was only a fraction of the whole story. I wanted to give up.

"Tell me, Becks. Just keep going."

"He sort of kissed me, and he was right. He took the pain away." I skipped the part about the century underground. I had to see how Jack would react to this small piece of the puzzle. "And now I can sort of do the same thing. But I don't need to. I can survive without it."

We sat in silence for a few minutes. I couldn't look Jack in the face, even though it was dark in his room, so I looked out the window. There were no stars tonight, or maybe the clouds were blocking all of them.

"Is this some sort of metaphor? Are you messing with me?"

"No."

"Show me," Jack said.

I jerked my head around to look at him. "Show you what?"

"Kiss me."

"No." I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath until I let it out. "I can't."

"You have to."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe it will help me understand. If I hadn't felt it before, I wouldn't have believed a word. Do it again, so I know it wasn't all some weird dream."

I shook my head, but I could feel myself giving in. I wanted to give in. "I won't kiss you."

"But-"

I held my hand up. "I can show you without kissing you. I think."

This seemed to satisfy him. "Okay."

I thought about how much time I'd been back. How much I had replenished my soul. It was nowhere near full, but there had to be enough that when I sampled Jack, I wouldn't lose control. Jack made a move to close the distance between us.

"Don't," I said. He froze. "Just stay still."

"Why are you so worried, Becks?"

"Because we need to be able to stop. It will feel good to you. It'll feel like suddenly everything you're worried about disappears."

"What will it feel like to you?"

Like a starving person eating a feast. But I didn't tell him that. "Close your eyes and hold still."

"Okay."

I scooted toward him and leaned forward, moving as slowly as possible. Jack remained perfectly still. When my lips were a couple of inches away from his mouth, I breathed in. And focused on taking the energy that was in front of me and pulling it inside. It was as if warm, charged air were coating my throat, replacing the cold emptiness inside me.

His eyes popped open. We watched each other for a few long seconds as I continued to taste his emotions. Residual pain, mostly. Heartache at first. These were at the surface. The negative ones always were. That's why Forfeits kept coming back for more. In the beginning, it felt like a release.

The well inside me received its first drops of moisture from someone else. Jack leaned in even closer, and I scrambled back until I was against the wall once more.

"Did you feel it?" I asked.

Jack pressed his lips together and nodded once.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I know this can't possibly make any sense to you."

He looked at the floor. "What are you, Nikki?"

Nikki? He hadn't called me that for so long. "I don't know." I winced. Being truthful with Jack wasn't working. I could feel it in the s.p.a.ce between us. I was losing him.

Still looking down, he said, "I think you should go now."

Jack was scared of me.

I walked over to the window and climbed out.

NINETEEN.

NOW.

Home. Two months, one week left.

When I got into my own bed, I dreamed I was standing in the aisle of the Shop-n-Go and my feet started to sink into the ground. I tried to step out, but the floor was like quicksand. I grabbed the stand with the chocolate doughnuts and it toppled onto me, pushing me even farther under. And when I opened my mouth to scream, several arms came out of the floor, covered my mouth, and dragged me the rest of the way under.

The ability to dream again was highly overrated.

Frantic knocking on my bedroom door woke me up after what seemed like only moments. "Nikki?" It was Tommy's voice. "Nikki? Are you awake?"

"Yeah, bud. C'mon in."