“You are not notorious.” Miles took a giant bite of his croissant. “I’m gonna tackle those one at a time,” he said, chewing.
As he dabbed the side of his mouth with his napkin, Luce half-marveled, half-chuckled at his occasionally impeccable table manners. She couldn’t help picturing him taking some fancy etiquette course at the golf club as a boy.
“Shelby’s rough around the edges,” Miles said, “but she can be cool, too. When she feels like it. Not like I’ve ever witnessed that side of her.” He laughed. “But that’s the rumor. And the Frankie/Steven thing weirded me out at first, too, but somehow they make it work. It’s like a celestial balancing act. For some reason having both sides present gives students here the most freedom to develop.”
There was that word again. Develop. She remembered that Daniel had used it when he first told her he wouldn’t be joining her at Shoreline. But develop into what? It could only apply to the kids who were Nephilim. Not Luce, who was the lone full human in her class of almost-angels, waiting until her angel felt like swooping back in to save her.
“Luce,” Miles said, interrupting her thoughts. “The reason people stare at you is because everyone’s heard about you and Daniel, but no one knows the real story.”
“So instead of just asking me—”
“What? Whether you two really do it on the clouds? Or whether his rampant, ya know, ‘glory’ ever overwhelms your mortal”—he stopped, catching the horrified look on Luce’s face, then gulped. “Sorry. I mean, you’re right, they let it blow up into some big myth. Everyone else, that is. I try not to, um, speculate.” Miles put down his tea and stared at his napkin. “Maybe it feels too personal to ask about.”
Miles shifted his gaze and was now staring at her, but it didn’t make Luce feel nervous. Instead, his clear blue eyes and slightly lopsided smile felt like an open door, an invitation to talk about some of the things she hadn’t been able to tell anyone yet. As much as it sucked, Luce understood why Daniel and Mr. Cole had forbidden her to reach out to Callie or her parents. But Daniel and Mr. Cole were the ones who had enrolled her at Shoreline. They were the ones who’d said she’d be okay here. So she couldn’t see any reason to keep her story a secret from someone like Miles. Especially since he already knew some version of the truth.
“It’s a long story,” she said. “Literally. And I still don’t know all of it. But basically, Daniel is an important angel. I guess he was kind of a big deal before the Fall.” She swallowed, not wanting to meet Miles’s eyes. She felt nervous. “At least, he was until he fell in love with me.”
It all began to pour out of her. Everything from her first day at Sword & Cross, to how Arriane and Gabbe took care of her, to how Molly and Cam taunted her, to the gut-wrenching feeling of seeing a photograph of herself in a former life. Penn’s death and how it devastated her. The surreal battle in the cemetery. Luce left out some of the Daniel details, private moments they’d shared together … but by the time she finished, she thought she’d given Miles a pretty complete picture of what had happened—and hopefully dispelled the myth of her intrigue for at least one person.
At the end, she felt lighter. “Wow. I’ve never actually told this stuff to anyone. Feels really good to say it aloud. Like it’s more real now that I’ve admitted it to someone else.”
“You can keep going if you want to,” he said.
“I know I’m only here for a short time,” she said. “And in a way, I think Shoreline will help me to get used to people—I mean angels like Daniel. And Nephilim like you. But I still can’t help feeling out of place. Like I’m posing as something I’m not.”
Miles had been nodding and agreeing with Luce the whole time she told her story, but now he shook his head. “No way—the fact that you’re mortal makes the whole thing even more impressive.”
Luce glanced around the terrace. For the first time, she noticed a clear line dividing the tables of the Nephilim kids from the rest of the student body. The Nephilim claimed all the tables on the west side, closest to the water. There were fewer of them, no more than twenty, but they took up a lot more tables, sometimes with just one kid at a table that could have seated six, while the rest of the kids had to cram into the remaining east-side tables. Take Shelby, for example, who sat alone, battling the fierce wind over the paper she was trying to read. There was a lot of musical chairs, but not one of the non-Nephilim seemed to consider crossing over to sit with the “gifted” kids.
Luce had met some of the other non-gifted kids yesterday. After lunch, classes were held in the main building, a much less architecturally impressive structure where more traditional subjects were taught. Biology, geometry, European history. Some of those students seemed nice, but Luce felt an unspoken distance—all because she was on the gifted track—that thwarted the possibility of a conversation.
“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve gotten to be friends with some of those guys.” Miles pointed to a crowded table. “I’d pick Connor or Eddie G. for a game of touch football any day over any of the Nephilim. But seriously, do you think anyone over there could have handled what you did, and lived to tell about it?”
Luce rubbed her neck and felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. Miss Sophia’s dagger was still fresh in her mind, and she could never think about that night without her heart aching over Penn. Her death had been so senseless. None of it was fair. “I barely lived,” she said softly.
“Yeah,” Miles said, wincing. “That part I heard about. It’s weird: Francesca and Steven are big on teaching us about the present and the future, but not really the past. Something to do with empowering us.”
“What do you mean?”
“Ask me anything about the great battle that’s coming, and the role a strapping young Nephilim like myself might play in it. But the early stuff you were talking about? None of the lessons here ever really go into that. Speaking of which”—Miles pointed at the terrace, which was emptying out—“we should go. You want to do this again sometime?”
“Definitely.” And Luce meant it; she liked Miles. He was much easier to talk to than anyone else she’d met so far. He was friendly and had the kind of sense of humor that put Luce instantly at ease. But she was distracted by something he’d said. The battle that was coming. Daniel and Cam’s battle. Or a battle with Miss Sophia’s group of Elders? If even the Nephilim were preparing for it, where did that leave Luce?
Steven and Francesca had a way of dressing in complementary colors that made them look better outfitted for a photo shoot than a lecture. On Luce’s second day at Shoreline, Francesca was wearing three-inch golden gladiator heels and a mod pumpkin-colored A-line dress. It had a loose bow around her neck and matched, almost exactly, the orange tie that Steven wore with his ivory oxford shirt and navy blazer.
They were stunning to look at, and Luce was drawn to them, but not exactly in the couples-crush way Dawn had predicted the day before. Watching her teachers from her desk between Miles and Jasmine, Luce felt drawn to Francesca and Steven for reasons closer to her heart: They reminded her of her relationship with Daniel.