Nightfall (Devil's Night 4)

Heading to my truck, I tossed her bag into the bed and opened the passenger side door for her.

She finally met my eyes, looking so tired. God, the circles around her eyes I was finally able to see in the light of day… When was the last time she’d slept?

She opened her mouth, like she might argue, but then, she just climbed in. I slammed the door, rounding the truck and climbing in on my side.

I almost wanted her to fight. Emory Scott was letting me take her off school grounds during school hours, and she wasn’t even demanding to know where.

I didn’t like this dead look on her face. What the fuck was going on?

Starting the truck, I pulled out my phone and dialed as I drove out of the parking lot, turning to head toward the village.

She absently pulled her seatbelt across her body, fastening it.

Roger Culpepper answered on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Will. Can you open the doors?”

“It’s nine a.m.” he told me.

“Just open the theater,” I told him again. “Then you can go back to sleep.”

I hung up before he had a chance to argue and looked over at Em, who just stared out the window. She’d stopped crying and just relaxed back into the seat, looking sad but comfortable.

I stared out at the road as we headed back into town, unable to help the smile peeking out. Sorry, D. That’s her seat now.

• • •

Roger had the movie theater unlocked for us when we arrived, and I parked in the alley so no one would spot my truck off school grounds. Emmy didn’t ask any questions as I parked her in one of the theaters and left to grab snacks.

Culpepper managed the theater and had been here for the nightly festival until a few hours ago. I felt bad about waking him up and dragging his ass in, but ever since my impromptu birthday party last May after prom, my parents took my keys to the theater so I couldn’t let myself—or others—in.

Roger relaxed when he saw it was just one girl. He loaded the film, dimmed the lights, I made the popcorn, and after he left, I locked the doors again and carried a handful of junk food into theater three.

“Hungry?” I asked, slipping her drink into her cupholder.

She looked up at me, her eyes still red but always beautiful. She shifted nervously in her seat and looked behind her toward the doors, probably scared we were going to be caught.

“It’s gonna be okay.” I set down the rest of the snacks and picked the popcorn back up as I sat down. “I know a kid who works in the office. I already called and told him to mark you present in every class today.”

Plus, I had her turn off her cell phone in the truck, since I knew her brother might be tracking her. My parents threatened me with that from time to time.

I stuck some popcorn in my mouth and offered her some, the credits rolling on the film in front of us.

But she just stared at me.

“You know a kid?” she repeated, her usual snark painted all over her face with a big fat brush. “Of course, you have the

whole school wired, because—”

“Thank you would be the correct response,” I said, mid-chew.

She gaped at me.

“Try it out,” I told her.

She closed her mouth, straightening her shoulders, but after a moment she dropped her defiant little chin and mumbled, “Thank you.”

Sitting back in her seat, she took her Coke and held it between her legs, and after a few minutes, I offered her some popcorn. She took it, pecking at her handful like a bird.