“Okay. The fact you know the latter part is odd, but whatever. Tell me the square root of five hundred and thirty-eight?”

He laughed, which was unnecessary because he was already getting an absurd amount of double takes from nearly everyone passing by us. “Twenty-three point one nine—and you know what? You don’t know the answer to that question.”

That was true. “How do you know? I’m a math genius.”

“If that were true, you wouldn’t have asked that question.”

My eyes narrowed.

“Taft was one of the last presidents to preside over the addition of a new state. Currently there are eighty-eight known constellations. Beard hair grows twice its normal rate while on a plane.”

“What?”

“It’s true. Another thing that’s true? Honey never spoils. Look it up. It’s also hard to access memories without moving your eyes. Try doing that one day,” he said. “Water can boil and freeze at the same time. Cats always land on their feet because of physics. And there’s enough DNA in one human to stretch from the sun to Pluto seventeen times.”

“School would bore you.” I stopped by my car.

“Not if you were in class.”

I ignored the weird flutter in my chest. “Uh-huh.”

His grin teased at me. “Can I come home with you?”

“Come again?”

“Well, that came out kind of wrong, didn’t it?” He chuckled as he stepped forward, and I had to tilt my head back to meet his gaze. “I want to come home with you.”

My heart did a cartwheel and then face-planted itself against my ribs. “I still don’t think that came out right, Luc.”

“It came out just the way I wanted it to.”

That flutter grew, and I did everything in my power to ignore it. “Are you going to finish our conversation from this weekend?”

“If that’s what you want.”

“Why else would I talk to you?” I shot back.

He laughed again under his breath. “I like to think there are other reasons you’d talk to me, Peaches.”

“Don’t call me that.” I opened my car door. “My mom would flip if she came home and saw you there.”

“I’d be gone before she got home.”

I hesitated. “How would you know that?”

“I’m fast. The moment you heard her pull up, I’d be out of the house.” He paused. “In a jiffy.”

He was fast. I knew that, but still. “I don’t know.”

Luc was quiet for a moment. “You came to my place. How is this any different?”

It didn’t seem like it should be, but it was. Allowing him to come to my house was different.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked after a moment.

His question startled me. I should be afraid of him, especially after seeing exactly what he was capable of, but truth was, I wasn’t afraid of him.

“No. I’m not.” I took a deep breath. “You can come home with me, but you have to promise you’ll be good before my mom gets home.”

“Pinkie swear.”

I rolled my eyes. “Get in the car.”

Grinning, he walked around to the passenger side and climbed in just as I was turning the car on. I glanced over at him. “So, um, what did you end up doing with your weekend?”

“Patrolling.”

I waited until two girls passed my car, and then I pulled out. “What does that mean?”

“It means I was out making sure we didn’t have a psycho Luxen hanging around, hell-bent on revenge.” He stretched out his long legs, letting his elbow rest on the open window. “Good news is that we didn’t see any signs of Sean and Charity having another sibling.”

“That’s good.” My stomach tumbled. “Right?”

“Right.”

He didn’t sound like it was a good thing. I glanced over at him. Luc was staring out the window. “What are you not telling me?”

He didn’t answer.

Anxiety spiked. “Luc.”

“Everything.” Luc looked at me as reached a stoplight. “I still have everything to tell you.”

* * *

Luc didn’t tell me anything when we got to my place on Monday. Once we got to my house, he’d turned on the TV and started searching for alien movies.

Yep.

Alien movies.

For three hours, he raged about how alien invasions in Hollywood almost always got it wrong. He was kind of right. Real aliens didn’t look like giant insects, but when I pointed out Invasion of the Body Snatchers, I’d stumped him.

It was a weird afternoon, but it had been . . . amusing. And it had also felt . . . normal. Like I’d done this before, and honest to God, I’d never sat and argued about which aliens were freakier: the ones from Independence Day or from the old Alien franchise.

He was skilled at avoiding questions, and talented in the art of distraction. As promised, he’d left right before Mom came home, but he didn’t tell me anything remotely useful.

Luc didn’t show up at my locker on Tuesday.

That was a good thing, because if he did, there was a good chance James might’ve punched him, and that would’ve ended badly . . . for James.

After school on Tuesday, I’d grabbed something to eat with Zoe and Heidi, and we met up with Emery. I was with them when I got a text from Mom that she wouldn’t be home till late, and the girls ended up hanging out at my place until it grew dark outside. Mom came home about twenty minutes after they left.

Tuesday felt normal, like it used to be before Colleen and Amanda . . . and Luc, and I didn’t realize how badly I needed time with my friends until then. Where we just ate a ton of junk food and talked about nothing . . . nothing scary.

Normalcy didn’t last long.

On Wednesday, April and her minions took to protesting the Luxen at the entrance of the school. Their group had doubled in size since Monday.

I couldn’t stay quiet any longer. April and I weren’t the closest, and on most days I didn’t consider her a friend, but I had to try to talk some sense into her, because she was getting everyone riled up.

I waited for her after our third-period class, catching her in the hallway. “Hey.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder. “Can we talk real quick?”

“Sure.” She was shoving a thick monstrosity of a binder into her bag. “What’s up?”

My hand tightened around my backpack strap. “What are you doing, April? With the whole protesting thing?”

She stopped and looked up. “Excuse me?”

“Why are you doing this? The Luxen here haven’t done anything wrong, and you’re—”

“I’m what, Evie?” Her face pinched. “Vocalizing my right to be safe in my high school?”

“You are safe.”

She laughed as she stepped to the side, continuing to jam her binder into her bag. “You’re an idiot if you think any of us are safe anywhere. You saw Amanda. You know what happened to Colleen.”

I stiffened. “I clearly remember what I saw, but that doesn’t mean all Luxen are dangerous. Or that any of the Luxen who go here are responsible.”

“How do you know that? Did you ask them?” she replied.

“I don’t need to ask them. I don’t walk around assuming every Luxen is a murderer.”

“Well, you should.” She yanked up the zipper on her bag. “I really thought that you, out of everyone, would be standing with me. Your father—”

“Stop bringing up my father, April. You didn’t know him.” We were starting to get stares, but I didn’t care. “What you’re doing is wrong and super-disappointing.”

“Disappointing?” She laughed as she flipped her ponytail over her shoulder.

“Yeah, that’s what I said.”

“You know what? You’ve disappointed me.” April pivoted on her heel and stalked off, her sleek ponytail swaying with each step.

I disappointed her? I almost laughed, but nothing about this was funny.

Talking with April had gone about as well as expected, but at least I’d tried. Maybe Zoe could try talking to her. She knew April better.