“Just think of it as a recon mission.”
Fang leaned against my door frame, watching me stare at myself in the dresser mirror.
“What?” I asked testily. “I’m fine.” I tucked my shirt in and pulled on the oversize velour hoodie that would hide my wings. I hoped.
“Uh-huh. Usually when you look like that, I know you’re about to hurl.”
“I’m fine,” I said tightly, trying not to hyperventilate. What was I doing? How stupid was I to agree to this? Maybe I should call him and cancel. I could say I was sick. I could—
The doorbell rang. Fang gave me an unholy grin and headed downstairs.
“Gosh, five brothers and sisters,” Sam said.
“Yeah. What about you?” We were waiting in line to buy movie tickets.
“Three older sisters,” he said. “They make my life a living hell. Fortunately, the two oldest are off at college now.”
I smiled. Talking to Sam was easier than I’d expected. And for the next two hours, I wouldn’t have to talk at all.
The film we saw was an incredibly violent military-espionage-action thing that looked like home movies from my childhood. Mostly I sat in the dark, analyzing fight scenes and praying that Sam wouldn’t try to hold my hand. What if my palms were sweaty? I nervously rubbed them on my jeans.
When the movie was over, we decided to get ice cream at a little shop down the block. As I was trying to think of something to say, Sam reached over and took one of my hands.
Just like that, we were holding hands.
It wasn’t bad.
At Ye Olde Ice Cream Shoppe, we got our orders and sat down at a little marble-topped table. I was wondering how far I could throw the table, if necessary, when Sam asked, “So what are you doing for Thanksgiving?”
“Just having dinner with Anne, I think,” I said.
“It’s too bad you won’t be with your parents.”
“True.” I nodd
ed and applied myself to my sundae.
“We’re going to have hell dinner with the relatives,” Sam said. He held up his maraschino cherry. “Want mine?”
“Yep.” He put it on top of my sundae and smiled. I smiled back. “Why is it hell dinner?”
He made a face. “My two oldest sisters will be back. There will be much hogging of the bathrooms, phone, and TV. My uncle Ted will talk nonstop about his business, which is insurance.”
I winced in sympathy.
“Mom will try to keep Aunt Phyllis away from the liquor, but it won’t work. Dad will be trying to watch the football game, so he’ll be shouting at the TV and spilling corn nuts on the carpet.” Sam shrugged. I liked the way his chestnut hair sort of fell over his forehead. And he had nice eyes. Hazel colored. Kind of tortoiseshell.
“Sounds pretty bad,” I said. Was that kind of Thanksgiving common? I had no idea. I only knew what I’d seen on TV. What kind of Thanksgiving would my old friends Ella and Dr. Martinez have?
Sam shrugged again. “It’ll suck. But then it’ll be over, and I’ll have four weeks to brace myself for Christmas.”
I laughed, and he grinned back at me. A slight movement behind him caught my eye. Sam had his back to the big plate-glass window, and someone had walked past it. No—someone was still there.
My hand froze in midair, and my heart felt encased in ice.
Ari was outside, giving me a predator’s grin and a thumbs-up sign.
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