"Sorry about that," I said to her, even though it wasn't my fight, but she nodded like she understood. Which maybe she did.

"Are they fighting about Mandi?"

"Um." I, along with everyone else in the room, watched Caleb stomp out the door and close it too hard, making the little bell ring like it was caught in a storm.

Chelsea traced lines on the table with her finger. "I hear her talking to him sometimes," she said, voice low. "She likes to say tutor like it means boyfriend. But then she sneaks to the Cove with Patch Jacobsen, you know? And I think his roommate too. Geoff?"

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about?" I didn't really want to talk about the Cove with a seventh grader, or about Mandi's romantic endeavors. But it was my job to be here for the girls, so I tried not to look like I'd almost rather be back listening to my roommate fight.

"Not really," Chelsea said. "I just...I was wondering if you thought it would be possible to change rooms? Maybe after Winter break? Or Thanksgiving?"

Oh. "Are you uncomfortable with your current situation?" That was what I'd been coached to ask.

"No!" she said, too quickly. "No, I just, I'm really good friends with Sejal Daga, you know? And we're both in seventh, and we hoped we could switch to room together."

"Have you talked to your dorm attendant?"

She shook her head. "I thought I'd ask you first. I didn't want Mrs. Devlin to think...I just wondered if it was possible?"

Truth was, I didn't know. "Part of the boarding school experience is learning to resolve differences." Another thing I was coached to say. "But if you're uncomfortable..."

Chelsea looked down again. "Mandi and I just have really different interests." She looked back up at me. "It's not that she's...she's just hard to be around. I feel like it's all boys all the time, and I...I'm not even sure..."

Oh. "That's a lot to be dealing with." She nodded and drew in a breath like it was the fullest one she'd had in a while.

"It's even worse, with my-you know."

I nodded. It was hard enough to be thirteen, but even harder as a Sententia-that's when our gifts typically started to manifest. That's also why Northbrook eventually added the lower grades. "How's that going?"

"It's mostly easy, so far. It started last year, so it's not, like, new, but..." She looked around, checking if anyone might overhear. "Well, I sense love."

"A Cupid!" That's what Carter had once called love detectors. I thought that would be a delightful gift, despite the name. Like my inverse.

"Yeah."

"That's great!"

Except Chelsea didn't look like it was great. "Yeah, I guess. My mom already wants me to become a marriage counselor and join her practice." She sighed. "But it's not always love, the nice kind I mean, like you and Carter have." Her eyes flicked to Carter, who was momentarily sitting on the couch with Amy. When he glanced our way and saw us looking, he smiled. Chelsea smiled back and quickly ducked her eyes, but I caught their telltale flash as she powered up her gift.

"See?" she said, voice low as it all poured out of her. "Well, you can't, I guess. But I can. He's so sweet, and he, I mean, he loves you. Totally. I see it like shades of colors, I guess, and yours-yours is real love and it's like nuclear bright. That's the best, and it's so uncommon. My mom tells me to look for those. Mr. and Mrs. Revell are like that too. You guys are really lucky."

"Thank you," I said, which seemed a better response than I know. "But it's not always what you see, huh?"

She shook her head, and I didn't miss how her eyes darted to Amy and back. "Sometimes...sometimes it changes. What used to be red is turning purple, fracturing. And then, well, around Mandi there's always so much yellow."

I could guess what yellow was. "And that's more like..."

She nodded. "l.u.s.t, I guess. It's not real love, though people don't always know the difference. Sometimes she means to bring it out and other times not. And I mean, there's tons of yellow all over school. You should see how much yellow is in the dining hall when you or Alexis walk around, or even in here"-she gestured just with her fingertips toward the rest of the lounge-"but it's different with Mandi, because of what she is. That's not...well, she doesn't do it on purpose all the time. It's hard for her. I get that. But it's hard for me, too. It's just so bright. I don't try to see it, but I can't help it. It's exhausting." She dropped her voice to near whisper. "Especially when I don't even like boys."

I thought Chelsea was being very mature about this and I told her so. I don't know why I was forever thinking that other gifts were better, or easier, than mine. They all came with challenges.

"Thanks, I guess." She smiled shyly, but seemed pleased. I remembered how she was the one to tell everyone about me and Carter on our first day at Sanderson.

"I don't know about changing rooms, but I think your reasoning is fair. If you want me to go with you to talk to Mrs. Devlin, I will. And I'm glad you felt you could talk to me. About everything."

Chelsea gave a great shrug of her small shoulders, though she was still smiling. "I mean, I'm supposed to talk to you, right? And...I thought you wouldn't tell anyone. You're not like that."

She was right. So many secrets were safe with me.

Amy was glaring at her homework, and the rest of the world, when I sat back down with her. "What was that about?"

"She just needed to talk for a while. She wants to change rooms."

"Isn't that Worthing-twit's roommate?"

"Yes," I sighed. I shouldn't even have told her that much. Though she would just have a.s.sumed the problem anyway.

"See, she's a menace." Amy closed her notebook with a thwack.

She kind of was, it was true. Two Honor Board meetings had mentioned her on the periphery, though she wasn't in any real trouble. But she wasn't a menace to the extent my roommate believed. She'd blame Mandi for it raining today, if she could. In fact, Mandi was under Amy's skin so deep I wasn't sure how to dig her out.

"She's done nothing wrong to Chelsea, as far as I know. Things are sometimes more complex than you think."

"As far as you know, she's flirting with my boyfriend over algebra and earth science right now. Did you know he's tutoring her in science too?"

"Ame." I grabbed her hand and she bit her lip. Sometimes my fiery friend didn't realize she'd gone overboard until someone pulled her out of the water. "Yeah, I know. But it's what he's supposed to do, and he's good at it. I think you need to give Caleb a little break. He hasn't done anything wrong."

She looked down. "So everything is my fault?"

I squeezed her hand again and resisted the urge to sigh. "Ame, no. Listen, let's go get a coffee? And talk."

"Don't you have to leave?"

That's right; I did. And I could see Carter striding out from behind the counter, hair newly combed and car keys in hand, for our final trip to the city. I'd practically forgotten. With everything else going on, college seemed impossibly far away, a figment of my imagination. But it wasn't, if I made it that far. The last of the college dinners Dan had arranged was tonight.

I gave Amy a swift hug before I stood up and slipped on my coat. "You're right. I'm sorry. We'll talk later, okay?"

"Sure," she said, like she was saying whatever. "Have fun."

"Ready?" Carter said to me, as he took first my bag and then my hand.

"Yeah. Bye, Ame."

"Bye," Carter echoed. She waved at us, but it was more like a dismissal than goodbye.

On our way out of the store, I leaned in and asked Carter, "So what'd you say to her? When I was talking to Chelsea." He looked awesome tonight, having changed into the stylish jeans I called his "fancy pants" and a b.u.t.ton down that made his blue eyes bluer. I wished we had special dinners all the time.

He shook his head. "Nothing, really. She apologized and said she 'didn't want to talk about it.' Which is fine, because I don't really think I'm the guy she needs to talk to about the scene they were making." I sighed and he squeezed my hand. We both said bye to Melinda as we pa.s.sed behind the counter and into the back room. "What were you talking about, with Chelsea Agro?"

"Switching rooms and...other stuff."

"Stuff about her roommate?" When I shrugged, he chuckled. "Seems like Mandi Worthington is part of every conversation we have lately."

"So let's not talk about her the rest of tonight then. Did you know Chelsea is a Cupid?"

"No, but it would have been my guess."

I glanced over at his pretty profile, lit only by the service lights in the back of the store. "She said you loooove me."

His eyes met mine and he smiled. "Well, if a Cupid said it, it must be true." Without warning, he swept me into a tight hug and dipped me backwards. I squealed and clutched at him until I got my balance but he just laughed. And then he kissed me, a soft press of his mouth to mine that was better a.s.surance than any Sententia gift that he, in fact, loved me.

"I'm wrinkling your shirt," I said against his lips. Up close like this, his eyelashes looked miles long.

"Like I care," he replied, but he righted us before long. Just before releasing me, he held his hand against mine for a second and whispered, "Anything?" So playful a moment ago, his eyes were serious now, searching mine for some kind of answer.

After a quick burst of my Diviner sense, I shook my head. Suddenly, it felt like it could have been any day since I told him about the vision, when Anything? had replaced h.e.l.lo in Carter's vocabulary. Every single time we saw each other he asked and so far, my answer had been the same. I checked the vision again and again but still nothing new. He frowned as he opened the back door and we hurried to the car through the rain.

Carter closed the door behind me a little harder than he needed to, but I knew he was just frustrated by the lack of clarity. I'd have been frustrated by it too, if I allowed myself any time for frustration. During the few weeks since my trip to Baltimore school had become my primary focus. I had a million problems to address-the vision, Mark Penrose, Mandi Worthington, and on and on-but no time for ones that didn't start with home and end in work.

On the weekends, if there wasn't swimming, there was this: Carter and me in the car together. The long drive to Boston and back had started to feel not quite so long and I liked that. Because the more times I visited, the more I was reminded just how much I loved the city. My aunt was in Maryland, but I thought my heart was here. If I stayed, Amy would be right across the river, a T ride away. And, probably, Carter too. He wouldn't say, but I was pretty sure Harvard was his favorite. Something about the prestige and the historic feeling of it.

Carter backed out of his parking spot fast, pressing too hard on the brakes and throwing me against the seatbelt. "This is driving me crazy."

I rubbed my shoulder. "I can tell."

"Sorry." He accelerated at a more appropriate pace and pointed us toward the city.

"It's okay."

"Nothing about this is okay." In between shifting gears, he plucked my hand off my leg and trapped it with his.

Northbrook breezed by outside my window and I marveled at how the grounds could look so beautiful still, even on the verge of winter, even with a few hundred kids tromping all over them every day. I loved the Academy. I hated talking about the vision. I wanted back the playful Carter I'd had so briefly in the store room.

"I just don't understand," Carter continued. Sometimes my silence only encouraged him to ruminate. "How are you not seeing more?"

I lifted our linked hands and dropped them, a driving version of a shrug. "If I could explain it, I would. If I could see more, I would."

"I mean, is it actually gone? Are you not seeing anything?"

I wished. "No. Well, sort of, but it's...weird. Sometimes I don't see anything, but I still, I feel it. It's like an echo. Lately it's like the echo's getting further away." And I didn't know whether or not to feel good about that.

"That's good. I think." His fingers twitched and I had to hold his hand tighter to keep him from messing up his hair before we made it to the city. "Like that future's getting further away. Becoming less likely. That's good," he repeated, convincing himself.

I couldn't be sure enough to agree, so I just kissed his hand and left it at that. In truth, the uncertainty made me more nervous, and I tried not to think about it. I preferred to distract myself with something else. Before he could talk any more about the future I couldn't fully see, I asked a very important question.

"What do you want for your birthday?"

I was hoping he'd say me.

No such luck. The grim face he made was answer enough. "To change your vision," he said. He kept his eyes fully on the road.

I sighed. "Besides that."

Finally, he glanced over at me, and a tiny, s.e.xy grin appeared on his handsome face. "How about some time alone with you not in the car?"

Now that's what I was hoping to hear. I thought about it more and more, since the disastrous night a few weeks ago when we'd been so close, to every single day when he asked about the vision and I felt like time was running out.

Our year anniversary was right around the corner and I was ready now.

Chapter Twelve.

You'll be there on Tuesday, right?" Amy asked for at least the tenth time on the Friday afternoon before her mother arrived to pick her up for our week of Thanksgiving break.

I was lying on my bed, reading one of her magazines. I flipped down the glossy pages to look at her. "Yes. For the thousandth time."

"Sorry," she muttered. She zipped and unzipped her weekend bag over and over again without taking out or putting anything in. On Tuesday, my aunt and I were driving out to spend the day with Amy and have dinner with the Morettis and the Sullivans.

I was beginning not to recognize my roommate. Bubbly and carefree had always been the words I used to describe her, but more and more she'd become irritable and distracted. I was worried about her. Her pants were looser, but she wasn't dieting. Just not eating. Her side of the room was more cluttered than usual, and it seemed like she was up later with her homework or sneaking back from Caleb's a little later each night.

Not for the first time, I wanted to talk with her, really talk with her about what was going on, but we never seemed to get the chance. Either I was too busy or Amy joked it off. I felt horrible that she wouldn't open up to me and even more horrible that I'd basically ignored my roommate's problems for weeks because I was caught up in my own. Looming death or not, I hadn't been a very good friend lately.

It wasn't how I wanted to go into my afterlife, as a c.r.a.ppy friend. Amy seemed to be getting into desperate territory and I didn't understand why and especially didn't know what to do. I was hoping our first real school break would help, putting our problems-and Mandi Worthington-miles away for a while. I remembered wishing about a year ago that my life could just be simple for a while and now I double wished it.

So tonight, I was letting it all go.

Before I had the chance to say anything at all, Amy, as always, beat me to the punch. Even if I hadn't been paying attention, she had. She didn't stop playing with the zipper on her bag, but sly eyes peeked over at me. "So are you going to show me what you got to wear tonight now or after?"

I dropped the magazine again. "What do you mean?"

She abandoned the bag and came over to my bed, nudging herself next to me after pulling open my nightstand drawer and taking out the contraband candles I'd been hiding and the package of condoms she'd gift-wrapped for my last birthday. She arrayed the candles in front of us and left the condoms next to the bed.

"Lane, please. You think I don't know what you're planning tonight or that you kind of can't wait for me to leave so you can get ready? No matter how nonchalant you're pretending to be, I know you've been 'reading' the same article in my magazine for the last hour, and I pick up our mail, so I've seen the packages from that expensive lingerie place I know you don't usually shop at. Also, you put away the pictures of your family so they won't 'see' anything and there's that s.e.xy-as-h.e.l.l new dress hanging in your closet. It's a year. Tonight, it's a year, and you're going to do it. Finally. So, can you just show me now, please please?"

Busted. She threw her arm around my shoulders and batted her eyelashes in my face until I relented.

When I got up to get out my special lingerie set, she shouted, "Yay!" And when I showed it to her, even her eyes got wide. "Daaamn. Oh, Heartbreaker, I hope that get-up doesn't kill him before you even get the deed done. Also, does it come in my size?"

I blushed my best blush and stuffed the set back into my drawer. Pretending I wasn't nervous wasn't working and Amy wasn't helping.

Yes, I had planned this. A few almost-nights didn't change the fact that I'd imagined this one for months. I'd spent weeks perfecting the minor details, from my dress to my underwear, to testing where I'd put the candles.