“Blake," I reminded him. "At least misspell a word here and there." James thought this over and then erased sacred and replaced it with sacrid. I could feel Mr. Brown moving into the far corner of my reach. The pain crept into my bones, but I tried not to let it show. I craved more time with James. But I also knew that it was important not to let my desire pull me down, as when I had dropped away from my host during a Shakespeare play. "I'm leaving," I said. "She threatens to take he...r pulsing goddess light from this place," he wrote. His teasing charmed me. As I reached again for the pencil, he hid his hand under the table, laughing at my frustration. Another warning chill made me recoil. "If you have an idea, let's hear it." He glanced at me and must've seen some discomfort in my eyes, for his smile fell. "What the fuck are you doing?" We both looked up. The instinct to lift a rifle at this animal made me stiffen. But it was just a boy with a scar on one cheek, wearing a stained army jacket.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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