Markings (13 page)

“And he sort of . . . got furry.” I cringed as I said it. How elementary school it must sound to her, like a little kid hallucinating.

“He got
furry
?”

I scuffed, covering my eyes. “Listen, I know this sounds unrealistic, but it’s true. He grew fur and his nails got long and his eyes turned gold and he became . . . animal.”

“Have you been watching
The Vampire Diaries
again?”

“No, Kat.” My frustration peaked. I pulled on my hair. “Grrr—listen to me. He shifted! He went from man to big, black, wolf-like thing right before my eyes. I thought I was hallucinating until Aaron showed up.”

“So, Mr. Hotness shows up . . . Explain to me how he knew where you were.”

“I—I don’t know. We have no cell service out there, which you know, so I didn’t call him—”

“Yeah, but we do at the hotel. And I heard you mumbling to someone the night before.”

I let go of my hair. My arms fell into my lap as I stared, exhausted, giving her the look that said: why are you doing this to me?

“Okay, fine, so say he did just show up at precisely the right place,” she continued. “So he saves you from werewolf-man . . . what did he want with you?”

“He, um . . . ” I paused. Here was the hardest part of the whole explanation. If I didn’t phrase this right, she’d think I lied because I
wanted
to leave with Aaron. She wouldn’t understand the truth: I had to. “I had to leave because Cain had been following me. Turns out our run-in in the dining hall hadn’t been an accident.”

“And why are you important to werewolf-man?”

My fingers traced the patterns in the back of my chair. I couldn’t look at her. “He wanted me because, well, I’m supposedly a part of some enemy clan, like Aaron is.” I peeked through my bangs at her. “Kat, I’m . . . I’m a Shifter.”

The room quieted. It’s like when parents glaze over, or the blood drains from their faces when their child delivers bad news: “I’m pregnant” or “I got suspended for drug-use.” Even though she was the best friend, Kat looked just like those zoning parents.

“Kat?” I was poised to leap out of my chair should she faint.

“I . . . ” She took her gaze to the carpet. “I need some air.”

Suddenly she was off the bed and out the door.

“Kat!” I leapt up, running after her.

She hustled down the hall, bouncing down the stairs. We were halfway to the living room when I caught her arm. “Hey! Don’t just run out on me—”

“Why? You did to me.” She ripped her arm out of hand. “And now you won’t tell me what’s going on.”

“This
is
what’s going on, Kat.”

“That’s impossible.” She stepped back, shaking her head. “Ever since you started working at the shelter you haven’t been totally yourself. And since this weekend, you’ve been plain weird. I don’t know if this is just because you’ve got the hots for Aaron, or what. Just call me when the old Lina wakes up.”

She trotted down the stairs, leaving me frozen. She set a small, bronze-colored key on the stand by the couch then took out her cell phone as she walked outside. Muffling a sob, she slammed the front door.

I sunk down on the steps. She’d walked out on me. She’d never done that before.
Our biggest argument had been over a boy and involved pillow-throwing, but that ended with us cracking up and going downstairs to make hot chocolate.

I had a feeling this fight wasn’t going to be resolved with pillows and sugar.

Chapter 14: Aaron’s Secret

T
rinity was waiting for me as I entered the shelter parking lot that afternoon. The Jaguar hummed near the reserve gates, ready to go. She leaned on the wheel, Lady Gaga music echoing beyond the shiny, black doors.

I opened the passenger side. “Where we going?”

“We have training today at the field,” she answered. “Well, the guys and Alison do. You can’t shift yet, so you’re just going to watch and learn from the sidelines. And me . . .” She glanced down at the floor.

A bright orange cast held her left ankle in place. “What happened?” I asked her.

She scuffed. “Tripped over Aaron’s shoes when I got home. Idiot left them on the stairs again.” She rolled her eyes then smiled. “Luckily, it’s just a sprain. Doc said to give it a week or so.”

I snorted. “Don’t you mean the vet?”

“Shut up!” She laughed, giving me a playful shove. “Now buckle up, I want to go.”

“So impatient.” I snapped my buckle into place.

Trinity hit the gas. The Jaguar threw us back in our seats as it roared away from the shelter.

The jeep sat just outside the field like yesterday. As we pulled up, I saw a gang of felines running about the field. Tom, the biggest cat of the bunch, stopped running and looked over at us. His ears flickered at the sight of his beloved stepping out of the car. Trinity waved at him.

I stiffened. A slim panther ran lines through the grass, leaping over a log. I scanned the area for a jaguar. Joey wasn’t here. Would Jace come to train without him? Suddenly a skinny cheetah stopped beside the panther, giving his nose a lick. It dawned on me: the panther was Nate, the cheetah Alison.

A beautiful cougar with a clean, tan coat and white muzzle galloped around the perimeter of the field, moving fast. I’d heard cougars were one of the slowest wildcats, but he could’ve easily proven the theory wrong. He sped by the cars without even glancing at us.

I frowned.
What, you can’t even stop to say hi?
Jerk.

Trinity and I sat down on the outskirts of the field, just outside the trees. Five minutes into watching the group, I had trouble keeping my eyes open. Sprawling out on my back, I pulled the hood of my sweater up.

Trinity turned. “Lina, you’ve got dark circles under your eyes.”

I sighed. “I didn’t have time to put makeup on this morning.”

“Oh, really.” It wasn’t a question. She was staring—I felt it—working her creepy Shifter-mind-reading magic again.

I focused on lying still, hoping maybe she’d get the hint that I wanted to sleep.

Hint not taken. “You’re not usually this tired-acting . . . Didn’t you sleep last night? I hope all this Shifter stuff isn’t keeping you awake. Talk to me, Lina. What’s going on?” Trinity reached out and ran a hand below my eye.

I realized a tear had escaped.
Dammit.
Now I would have to say something. “My new life,” I started. “It’s ruining my old one. This Shifter stuff has sort of . . . taken over.”

“Aw, honey.” She went all maternal-acting as she laid down beside me, brushing my hair off my face. “Don’t these things just suck?”

“Yes.” My hands swiped my face real quick, ridding the waterworks before anyone else could see. “I don’t want to talk about it. I don’t need Aaron or anyone else seeing me all emotional.”

She tipped her head up, watching her brother as he trotted by. I would’ve looked, too, but if I did the tears might’ve kept coming. And crying over Aaron was
definitely
something stupid that I didn’t want to explain.

“He’s fond of you, you know,” she said.

“Who?”

“You know who,” she giggled. “He hasn’t come to training in weeks! He usually won’t even hang with anyone unless it’s for lunch, or an emergency . . . He hasn’t been this involved in clan stuff for a long time.”

I blinked at her.
She thinks
he’s changing
. . .
because of me
? That didn’t sound right. It sounded freaking awesome, and would’ve totally turned my day around, but it didn’t sound right. Why would he change because of me? It had to be Alpha-based.

Trinity’s smile dissolved. Shadows passed behind her eyes, bringing with them that distant look people get when they relive memories. I told myself I wouldn’t pry too far into Aaron’s life, but ever since he got into that fight with Jace, and the way he acted over the girlfriend subject . . . I couldn’t stop myself.

“Why was he detached?” I asked. “He seems to care about the Shifters. I thought he was involved.”

“Yeah. He is now.” She picked at the clover patch in front of her. “You know, I’m not supposed to say anything. He’d get all wigged out if I told you what happened.”

My mouthed opened before I could weigh options. “It’s not like I would tell anyone. I just want to know why he has these periods of seeming, you know, tensed out.”

She pursed her lips then snuck a look over her shoulder. The cats were all galloping along the other side of the field. Turning back, she scooted closer until our sides nearly touched. “Okay,” she whispered. “But you have to promise me you won’t tell anybody, alright?”

The excitement rushed through my veins. “Deal.”

“Aaron wasn’t always like this. The whole distant, tough-ass type. In fact, growing up he used to make fun of those kinds of people . . . make fun of our dad, for example.”

“Your dad?”

“He wasn’t really the
fatherly
sort. He grew up like you, in a family of normals. He was devastated when he found out he was a half-human—though he worked to become one of the strongest felines in the pack. He was a snow leopard, which the West Clan has few of. He and my mother were quite the mix. She was a rebellious young cougar when they met. She was the only thing that held my father down, that kept him involved in the clan and kept him from going nuts.”

Trinity hesitated, plucking the petals off a clover. “Mom disappeared when we were little. Nobody knows what happened to her, but it was easy to assume. Even under Jinalo’s rule, the Keftey were still a threat, and she was more than just a little adventurous.

“Dad sort of lost it when she disappeared. After seven days of no evidence, he dumped us at our aunt and uncle’s house and went looking for her himself. He didn’t come back. Uncle George was angry, thought he’d abandoned us . . . His body turned up two weeks later near Sisters, Oregon. When you’re young, people try to protect you. Aunt Kala told us he died and we were too shocked to ask for details. It wasn’t until we were older that she told us the truth: he’d committed suicide.”

Trinity ran a hand through her hair, taking a deep breath
.

I’d gone still.
Wow, a mother who disappeared—and was probably dead—and a father who committed suicide.
I had figured something dark lurked in Aaron’s past, but not this bad.

“That’s more than terrible,” I said, knowing this kind of situation deserved a hundred different words: horrible, sad, agonizing, shocking, heartbreaking.

“It was.” She nodded, not looking me in the eye. “But for Aaron, it gets worse.”

“
Worse
?
”

“When Aaron was thirteen, he met a young Shifter named Halia.” Trinity’s voice grew lower. “In the beginning, they were just friends, but as they grew up, Aaron fell for her.

“Now the clan warriors are divided into what we call
teams,
when they go out to guard our borderlines. At sixteen, Aaron was fully trained and ready to lead a larger team than most. Halia wanted to join. He didn’t want to, but he let her. A Keftey invasion attacked the northern line. Aaron’s team got out that night with minimal injuries.” Gnawing on her lip, Trinity looked up. “Except one.”

“Oh, God.” I pressed my hands to my face. I pictured a young, blonde girl with a flawless smile and tiny frame being dragged away by the Keftey, bloodied and screaming, taken from the boy who loved her.

Trinity straightened up, pushing herself into a sitting position. The human Alison approached, and I knew this signaled the end of our conversation. Alison flopped down on Trinity’s other side, tossing her hair back. The brunette strands swayed to the ground. “Whatcha guys talking about?” she asked.

“Shifter life.” Trinity grinned. It didn’t even look forced, like she could deal with heartbreak easily . . . or maybe she was just used to it.

I let them chat while regaining control. Aaron’s attitude totally made sense now. I could see him still holding in what must be years of regret and anger, confusion, too.

And there was no girlfriend.

Funny, that didn’t really feel like a victory.

“Whoo, baby,” Trinity called, clapping as Tom came up. He was shirtless and glistening with sweat, looking more like a star athlete than ever. “You so fine, my love!”

“Not as fine as you, pretty paws.” Tom swooped down and scooped her up. Alison and I leapt aside as he twirled her around. He kissed her cheek before pecking her on the lips.

Nate slinked around the couple, surprising Alison as he flopped down on her lap. She made a grunting noise. He laid back, using her as a lounge chair.

“Gee, are you comfortable?” she asked. He nodded.

Aaron joined the group last, but didn’t sit. I wondered if this was hard for him, seeing two happy couples—one involving his sister—hug and kiss; if it made him think of Halia, and that’s why he acted different in a group.

Aaron looked at me, the only person not wallowing on someone, and said, “Come on guys. We should go back and make sure the wildlife got dinner.”

Chapter 15: Invincible

C
ome on, Lina!”

Trinity laughed, pulling me through row after row of trees.

I peered around, trying to see through the darkness. The branches above had grown so tightly together it was like running through a tunnel. The sky would’ve comforted me, to know space and air existed above my head, but I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see one star or any trace of the moon. A soft material kept hitting my legs. I think I was wearing a dress or something?

Suddenly the tree-tunnel ended, opening up into a dimly lit crowd. Humans and wildcats of every shape and color walked here. They moved so closely together that I kept stumbling into them, and when I did they’d stare. “That’s her,” some would say. “The Alpha has come home,” others whispered. Colored lights flashed off their coats and skins from some source ahead that I couldn’t see.

“Come on, silly, we’re not there yet.” Trinity tugged my arm.

“Trinity where are you taking me?” I held my free hand up to my face, trying to hide as clan members recognized me and made comments.

Trinity stopped. I lifted my head.

Aaron stood before us. He grinned, scanning me head to toe. “Well, look what the cats dragged in,” he said, reaching for my hand.

My heart pounded as his fingers laced through mine. They fit together perfectly, like missing puzzle pieces reunited. The joy spread through my veins like sugar, making me want to jump and giggle. He was holding my
hand
. I had dreamt about this moment, pictured it. It was more wonderful than I imagined. My fear of all the onlookers went away.

“You look beautiful,” he said, taking me from Trinity’s side.

“Thanks.” My turn to grin. “You do, too.”

“Thanks, babe.” He leaned towards me.

I closed my eyes, waiting for his lips to touch my skin. No boy had ever kissed me before. I’d had daydreams about being kissed, but I’d never wanted to kiss anyone as bad as I wanted to kiss him.

The second Aaron’s lips grazed my cheek, voices burst out of thin air.

“Heir to the fallen queen and son.”

“A beacon of light, attracted to you are the eyes of both right and wrong.”

“A flower among pine.”

“To you a deathbed awaits.”

“Yours shall suffer should the rebellion prevail.”

“Until a mortal sheds thy human skin.”

It wasn’t numerous voices filling my head; it was just one. That same feminine voice, being multiplied over and over, repeating what I’d heard before. Her voice was crystal clear. She seemed to be threatening me this time, not warning.

Pulling away, my eyes shot open. My beating heart froze over.

Cain leaned away from me, gold eyes glowing. He grinned, revealing pearly white teeth, the two on the sides larger, pointed.

A scream climbed my throat, but when I opened my mouth no sound came out. Cain’s fingers were wound around mine. He jerked me close to him, holding me still as he whispered in my ear, “Welcome home, darling.”

I woke up choking on that scream. The nightlight flickered in the wall, and I stopped thrashing around.
It’s okay, you’re in your room
. I curled and uncurled my fingers. It was just a dream, yet my hand tingled. Sweat soaked my bed. Roasting. Kicking the sheets off, I laid still, afraid to close my eyes. Cain’s face, his fangs were plastered to the backs of my eyelids.

As were those words in my mind.

I rolled out of bed. Flicking my desk lamp on, I sat down, pulling the drawers open. A faded green notebook with gnarled edges and Harry’s teeth marks rested in the bottom drawer. For once, I could remember everything that whispery, annoying voice kept telling me. I began writing it all down, repeating all of it in my head so nothing would get lost. My mind moved faster than I could write, my pen trying to catch up. The writing wobbled all over the page, messy, ugly, but as long as I could read it in the morning, that was all I cared about.

I was just jotting those last words, “Until a mortal sheds thy human skin”, when I caught a flash of something in my bedroom mirror.

My pen stopped. Slowly, I turned and glanced over my shoulder.

“What the—”

The pen clattered to the desk. I jumped out of my chair, stumbling across the floor. Straightening up, I stared, jaw-dropped at my reflection. It wasn’t leopard spots this time, but something semi-normal. Something that would be harder to hide.

While some of the gold remained, all the red had faded from my hair. Dozens of tiny, white streaks flowed off my skull, none of which had been there when I’d gone to bed. I was a blonde now. Not a strawberry blonde, not even a dirty blonde. I was simply
blonde.
And I felt really, really . . . weird.

•   •   •

“Lina . . . what happened?” Mom asked as I pranced into the kitchen.

“Not sure. I woke up and all the red was gone from my hair.” I shrugged as I opened the fridge. “It was totally weird, you know? I was kind of freaked out at first, but now I’m not worried about it.”

Actually, I wasn’t worried about anything this morning. All my fears had been snipped off at the stems. Sure, Kat might avoid me again today. Sure, I wasn’t a normal human girl anymore. Sure, the man of my dreams didn’t dream about me, but the sun was shining and I felt good.

“Is that . . . even possible?” Mom blinked, leaning against the counter like a statue. If she was artwork, I would’ve named her
The Face of Awe.
“And what the hell are you
wearing
?”

“Oh. This?” I looked down at the sleek bustier I’d slid on under my cardigan. The silky fabric had the colors of a summer evening, not dark blue but not purple, either. I’d found it in the back of my closet, another of those gifts from Dad I’d never touched, but the
longing
I had when I glimpsed it just a few minutes ago . . . I couldn’t stop myself. I’d even used the makeup kit he sent me for Christmas.

Mom’s eyes slid down my tight jeans to the black slouch boots with the heels. “You’re—you’re wearing that to school?”

“If I wasn’t wearing it to school, why would I be standing here in it?” I asked, then returned to raiding the fridge and spotted the source of that mouth-watering odor: smoked salmon.
Ooh, yeah.
I took it out, not bothering to grab any tartar sauce or even stick it in the microwave. Flipping up the tinfoil, I ate it cold.

Mom watched me chowing on cold fish. She chewed her lip, as if biting back a comment. “Whatever. I don’t have time for this. Hurry up and meet me in the car.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I sucked the rest of the fish fillet down and grabbed my purse.

The drive to school consisted of some lame country radio and Mom glancing at me every stoplight we hit. I nearly asked if there was a problem then decided I didn’t care. What did she want me to do about my hair? I hadn’t done anything to it. And the outfit? Come on. Someone in this town had to prove fashion hadn’t died. I slid my sunglasses on so she’d quit trying to look me in the eye.

The high school came into view. As Mom pulled up to the curb, I didn’t receive a goodbye. Instead, it was, “Lina, is there something you want to talk about?”

“Nope.” I smiled, patting her hand. “Have a good day at work, Momma. I love you.” Pecking her on the cheek, I grabbed my bag and slid out.

Her eyebrows shot up. Letting out a huff, she shook her head as I closed the door.

I waved as she drove away.
It’s okay, she’ll get over it.
I knew her to be a tough Momma. Turning on my heel, I strutted for the front doors. How many years had it been since I’d worn a pair of high heels? One? Three? I smiled about that. Usually I wobbled all over the place, but not today.

I’d barely hit the front doors when I heard whistling.

“Whoo! Damn, baby!”

I stopped, turning my head.

A junior boy leaned against the building, fanning himself while making crude gestures. Like the boys around him, he wore his hat backwards and his jeans sagged around his thighs. And talk about that
t-shirt.
The ugly, skull-ridden thing was three sizes too large for him.

What a loser.

My lip twitched. I bared my teeth, a snake-like hiss seeping through.
You’re not worth my time.
Facing forward, I squared my shoulders and continued indoors, leaving their catcalls—
hah,
catcalls
—behind.

In the hallways kids glanced back as I went past, a variety of looks aimed in my direction. The majority appeared blank, lost for words, but some glowered or whispered foul names under their breath. Others acted similar to Sir Loserlot out front, making noises like howler monkeys. I snorted. I didn’t really care.

Until one crossed the line.

I turned into the social studies hall, pushing my sunglasses up on my head. I wrinkled my nose, approaching a group of seniors. They straightened up as I moved by, chuckling and whispering. All of a sudden someone slapped my butt cheek.

My bags dropped to the floor as I whirled around. My hand came up, twisting into my offender’s shirt, and I slammed him against the lockers. The group gasped, jumping away.

The boy’s brown eyes went wide. I recognized the short black hair and the big nose: it was Jake Hawspring, the jerk who’d bullied me freshman year, the idiot Kat had saved me from.

My nails dug further into the cotton of his t-shirt, which reeked of cheap cologne and cigarette smoke.

I lifted him off the ground. “Try it again, and you’re gonna lose a limb.” The words rolled off my tongue low, dangerous.

Jake nodded, fear penetrating his eyes. “Okay fine, lady, just put me down.”

In a swift motion, I released him. He staggered against the lockers, his friends crowding back around him. I took my time picking up my bags as they flashed paranoid looks around.

One of the boys closest to Jake, a stubby kid with a nose ring, scowled. As I pulled my purse over my shoulder, he said, “Psycho bitch.”

I jerked around. They all flinched. Stubby kid was the closest to me as I stepped forward.
They’re like deer
, I realized.
Standing oh so still in hopes of not being noticed
. But I could hear the stutter of their hearts, and the flesh over their ribcages bumped in rhythm with the sound. I snapped my jaws at them. They leapt back like the frightened prey they were. Shaking my head, I chuckled. Idiots. Continuing towards class, I ignored the fact that the hallway had gone utterly silent.

My strange high continued through lunch, but mellowed out as the day went on. I wondered where it had come from, and if my going blonde had something to do with it.
It must be feline-related
, I decided as I ate at my usual table outside. Kat was gone again today, and I was sort of glad. I didn’t need her comments on the new me when I couldn’t decide what I thought myself.

The old Celina was clearly invisible, because my sharp ears kept picking up rumors about the “weird new girl.” In History class, Margie Leplee said I was from New York, because my boots were BCBG limited-editions sold only on the east coast last year and only to private parties. This rumor led to one about me being filthy rich and living in a mansion somewhere in the country.

Coming home after school to change for the shelter, I had difficulty parting with my beautiful attire. I’d done such a good job of putting pieces together—why ruin such a model-worthy ensemble? I looked so
good
. But a hot flash was running through eastern Oregon, and I was already roasting my butt off. Plus, this wasn’t animal-rescue clothing.

I hunted down another lovely yet workable outfit. In the closet, a low-cut, black shirt with the word MEOW spelled in rhinestones turned up. On the hanger behind it, a pair of short silver shorts.

I giggled. Purr-fection.

Twenty minutes later, I showed up at the shelter in my new outfit and a pair of no-heel slouch boots. Brendon lounged behind the front desk, magazine in hand. He was sipping an open Coke when he tilted his head to look at me. He choked, spitting soda across his computer screen.

“Holy—oh my—
Lina?
” he said between coughs.

“Hey, hey.” Sitting down, I pushed my purse to the side of the counter and sniffed the air. The gang’s scent lingered in the room, but it was faded. They’d been here today, but not recently.

Brendon’s eyes had super-glued to my body. It was like day one all over again, only worse. His arm rubbed against mine as he reached for a roll of paper towels stashed in a desk corner. Goose bumps shot up on my arm as I realized how chilly his skin was.
Brrrrr, gross.
I moved away.

Faint whispers echoed in the hall. I stiffened, thinking the whispery voice had come back to haunt me, but then I recognized the tone.

“Yeah, I’ll remind her . . . Yeah, no worries.”

Aaron.
I relaxed. His voice drifted behind me, coming from the office down the way. My feet slid to the side, preparing to get up. I stopped. No, I couldn’t bug him. I
shouldn’t
. . . should I?

Brendon’s leg bumped mine as he reached down to pick something off the floor. I didn’t see what it was. My eyes narrowed.
Probably retrieving his confidence
. Which, now that he’d found it, was giving him the guts to touch me some more.

“Hey, I’ll be right back.” I got up.

His eyes widened. “Where you going?”

“Just to the office. I’ll be back.” I spun around the corner.

The office door was cracked open, light spilling out onto the old, dusty floor. My feet moved silently towards it, missing the old squeaky boards they usually hit. I felt stealthy, balanced. I stopped a few feet outside the office to listen.

“Yeah, okay. I’ve gotta get back to work. I’ll see you guys for dinner.”

I smiled. Aaron’s typical tight voice had gone smooth, calm . . . just like how it’d been the day we’d gone for coffee. Was he talking to his aunt? His uncle? Maybe he was going to a friend’s house. Who did he hang with that didn’t work at the shelter?

My questions ceased as the phone noisily hit the receiver. The office fell quiet, all but for the scribbling of a pen and Aaron yawning. I smoothed my hair, tugged down my shorts. Taking a breath, I straightened up and pushed the door open. “Knock, knock.”

Aaron, seated behind the desk near the pool table, lifted his head. I kept a neutral expression, knowing I’d look too cocky if I smiled. I waited for him to speak, hoping for a positive reaction to my style change.

His eyebrows pulled together. I slipped in and snatched the chair in front of him. “Going to a Hollywood premiere?” His gaze lingered on my chest, on the rhinestone letters of my shirt.

My temple pulsed.
Damn, he’s not impressed.
“What, no hello first?” I snapped.

“And who am I saying hello to? Hello
Kitty
? You look like some kind of . . .” He trailed off.

“Some kind of what, Aaron?” I dared him to say it, knowing that if he had any sense of civility he’d pass it off or apologize right here, right now. I couldn’t believe he was acting disgusted. I’d worked hard to look this cute.

A spark lit Aaron’s eyes. He didn’t pass it off. “Like some kind of stripper,” he finished. “What? Joining the playboy bunnies now?”

My jaw dropped. He didn’t even crack a smile, snort, anything to prove he was just joking. He returned to reading some piece of paper.

“Jeez, what’s with the stick up your ass today?” I snarled.

He opened his mouth, about to snap back, but we were interrupted by laughter and footsteps in the hall. Trinity came in, giggling, Alison on her heels. Trinity’s ankle cast was off. Both girls had plastic bags containing boxes of Chinese food.