Seriously? She was getting in trouble for coughing?
Cam gave Lilith two light thumps on the back, the way her mother did to Bruce when he was having one of his fits. Then he bent down, picked up the diaper, raised an eyebrow at Lilith, and stuffed it inside Chloe's purse.
"She might need that later," he said, and smiled at Lilith as he walked to the other side of the room.
Trumbull wasn't a big school, but it was big enough for Lilith to be surprised that Cam was also in her poetry class. She was even more surprised when Mr. Davidson sat him in the empty seat next to her, since Kimi Grace was out sick.
"Hey," Cam had said when he slid into the seat.
Lilith pretended she hadn't heard him.
Ten minutes into class, as Mr. Davidson was reading a love sonnet by the Italian poet Petrarch, Cam leaned over and dropped a note onto her desk.
Lilith looked at the note, then at Cam, then glanced to her right, certain it was meant for someone else. But Paige wasn't reaching out to take the note from her, and Cam was smirking, nodding at the face of the note on which he'd written in neat black script, Lilith.
She opened it and felt a strange rush, the kind she felt when she dipped into a really good book or heard a great song for the first time.
In ten minutes of class, Teach has faced his blackboard an impressive total of eight minutes and forty-eight seconds. By my calculations, you and I could absolutely sneak out the next time he turns around and not be missed until we're already at Rattlesnake Creek. Wink twice if you're game.
Lilith did not even know where to start with this. Wink twice? More like drop dead three times, she wanted to tell him. When she looked up he was wearing a strange, tranquil expression, as if they were the kind of friends who did stuff like this all the time, as if they were any kind of friends. The weird thing was, Lilith skipped class all the time--she'd done it twice yesterday, in homeroom and biology. But she never did it for a fun reason. Escape was always her only option, a survival mechanism. Cam seemed to think he knew who she was and how she lived her life, and that annoyed her. She didn't want him to think about her at all.
No, she scrawled back, right over the words of Cam's note. She crumpled it up and pitched it at him the next time Mr. Davidson turned around.
The rest of her day was long and dreary, but at least she got a break from Cam. She didn't see him at lunch or in the hallways or in any of her other classes. Lilith reasoned that if she had to have two classes with him, it was best to have them back-to-back first thing in the morning and get the squirrelly sensation he made her feel out of the way. Why was he so casual with her? He seemed to think she enjoyed his presence. Something about him filled her with rage.
When the final bell rang, when she most wanted to be slinking behind the carob branches to play her guitar alone at Rattlesnake Creek, Lilith trudged to detention.
The detention room was spare--only a few desks and one poster on the wall that featured a kitten clinging to a tree branch. For what felt like the three thousandth time, Lilith read the words printed beneath its calico tail:
YOU ONLY LIVE ONCE, BUT IF YOU DO IT RIGHT, ONCE IS ENOUGH.
The way to survive detention was to go into a trance. Lilith stared at the kitten poster until it took on an otherworldly quality. The kitten looked terrified, hanging there with its claws puncturing the branch. Was it supposed to embody "living right"? Not even the decor in this school made sense.
"Room sweep!" Coach Burroughs announced as he burst through the door. He checked in every fifteen minutes, like clockwork. The assistant basketball coach wore his silver hair in a greased-back pompadour, like an aging Elvis impersonator. The kids called him Crotch Burroughs, in honor of his borderline indecent shorts.
Even though Lilith was the only one in detention today, Burroughs paced as though disciplining a room full of invisible delinquents. When he got to Lilith, he slapped a stapled packet on her desk. "Your makeup biology test, Highness. It's different from the one you skipped out on yesterday."
The same or different, it didn't matter--Lilith was going to fail this one, too. She wondered why she was never called into a counselor's office, why no one seemed interested in how her appalling grades were threatening her college prospects.
When the door opened and Cam walked in, Lilith actually smacked her forehead.
"Are you kidding me?" she muttered under her breath when he handed Burroughs a yellow detention slip.
Burroughs nodded at Cam, sent him to a desk across the room, and said, "You got an assignment to keep you occupied?"
"I can't begin to tell you how much I have to do," Cam said.
Burroughs rolled his eyes. "Kids these days think they have it so hard. You wouldn't know real work if it bit you. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. In the meantime, the intercom is on, so the office will hear everything that happens in this room. Understand?"
From his desk, Cam winked at Lilith. She turned to face the wall. They were not on winking terms.
As soon as the door closed behind Burroughs, Cam walked to the teacher's desk, switched off the intercom, then sidled over to the chair in front of Lilith. He sat down and put his feet up on her desk, nudging her fingers with his boots.
She shoved his feet away. "I have a test to take," she said. "Excuse me."
"And I have a better idea. Where's your guitar?"
"How did you manage to get a detention on your first day of school? Going for a new record?" she asked, so that she wouldn't say what she was really thinking, which was, You're the first new kid I can remember. Where are you from? Where do you shop? What's the rest of the world like?
"Don't worry about that," Cam said. "Now, about your guitar. We don't have a lot of time."
"Weird thing to say to a girl sitting in detention for eternity."
"This is your notion of eternity?" Cam looked around, his green eyes pausing on the kitten poster. "Wouldn't be my first choice," he finally said. "Besides, you don't notice forever when you're having fun. Time only exists in sports and sorrow."
Cam stared at her until a shiver ran across her skin. Lilith felt her face flush; she couldn't tell whether she was embarrassed or angry. She realized what he was doing, trying to soften her by talking about music. Did he think she was so easy to play? She felt another inexplicable surge of fury. She hated this boy.
He pulled a black object the size of a single-serving cereal box from his bag and placed it on Lilith's desk.
"What's that?" she asked.
Cam shook his head. "I'm going to pretend you didn't just ask that. It's a miniature guitar amp."
She nodded, like of course. "I've just never seen one so, um..."
"Square?" Cam prompted. "All we need is a guitar to plug it into."
"Burroughs will be back in fifteen minutes," Lilith said, glancing at the clock. "Twelve. I don't know how detention works where you come from, but around here, you don't get to play guitar."
Cam was the new kid, yet he strode in here like he owned the place. Lilith was the one who'd been stuck here all her life, who knew how things worked and how crappy this school was, so Cam could just back off.
"Twelve minutes, huh?" He threw the mini amp back into his bag, stood up, and held out his hand. "We'd better hurry."
"I'm not going with you--" Lilith protested as she let him drag her out the door. Then they were in the hallway, where it was quiet, so she shut up. She looked down at his hand in hers for a second before jerking away.
"See how easy that was?" Cam asked.
"Don't touch me ever again."
The words seemed to punch Cam in the gut. He frowned, then said, "Follow me."
Lilith knew she should go back to detention, but she liked the idea of a little mischief--even if she didn't like her partner in crime.
Grumbling, she followed Cam, keeping close to the wall, as if she could blend in with the student-made posters supporting Trumbull's terrible basketball team. Cam pulled a Sharpie from his bag and added the letters HIT
to the end of a message that stated GO BULLS!
Lilith was surprised.
"What?" He raised an eyebrow. "Once you go bullshit, you never go back."
On the second floor, they came to a door marked BAND ROOM. For someone who had only been here a day, Cam sure seemed to know his way around. He reached for the knob.
"What if someone's in there?" Lilith asked.
"Band meets first period. I checked."
Someone was in there. Jean Rah was a half-French, half-Korean boy who, like Lilith, was a social pariah. They should have been friends: like her, he was obsessed with music, he was mean, he was weird. But they weren't friends. Lilith wished Jean Rah would permanently evaporate, and she could see in his eyes that he wished the same about her.
Jean looked up from a drum kit, where he was tuning the snare. He could play every instrument there was. "Get out," he said. "Or I'll page Mr. Mobley."
Cam grinned. Lilith could tell Cam instantly liked this scowling kid with his Buddy Holly glasses, which made her hate them both even more.
"Do you guys know each other?" Cam asked.
"I make it a point not to know him," Lilith said.
"I'm unknowable," Jean said, "to idiots like you."
"Talk crap and get the crap beaten out of you," Lilith said, glad to have a target for her anger. Her body tensed, and the next thing she knew she was lunging at Jean--
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Cam said, catching her by the waist.
She writhed against the strong arms restraining her, not knowing which boy she wanted to hit first. Cam had gotten her all riled up, interrupting a peaceful detention hour, bringing her here....And that wink. She got pissed off all over again thinking about the way he'd winked at her.
"Let. Me. Go," she seethed.
"Lilith," Cam said quietly. "Everything's cool."
"Shut up," she said, yanking herself away. "I don't want your help, or your pity, or whatever it is you're trying to do."
Cam shook his head. "I'm not--"
"Yes, you are," Lilith said. "And you'd better stop."
Her palm itched to slap Cam. Not even his expression, which was an unsettling mixture of confusion and hurt, eased her feelings. The only reason she didn't hit him was that Jean was watching.
"Uhh..." Jean raised his eyebrows and glanced at Lilith, then Cam. "You two are kind of wigging me out. I'm calling Mobley."
"Go ahead," Lilith snapped. "Do it."
But the boy was so shocked that he stayed put.
Lilith's first instinct was to leave the band room immediately, yet--oddly--she found herself wanting to stay. She didn't know why she'd never come in here before. It felt comforting to be surrounded by instruments. Even though they weren't fancy instruments--the trumpets were dented, the drum skins were worn so thin they were translucent, the metal triangles were coated with rust--nothing else at this school was even half as intriguing.
A gentle smirk crossed Cam's face. "I'm getting an idea."
"Probably a first for you," said Jean.
"Forgive us if we're not impressed," Lilith said, surprised to find herself siding with Jean.
"You guys share a common enemy," Cam stated.
Lilith snorted. "You pick up on people's hatred of you quickly. That was what, ten minutes?"
"Not me," Cam said. "I mean the school. The town." He paused. "The world."
Lilith couldn't decide if Cam was wise or a cliche. "What's your point?"
"Why don't you combine forces and channel your rage?" Cam said. He handed Lilith a guitar from a stand and put his hand on Jean's shoulder. "Lilith and I are starting a band."
"We are not," Lilith said. What was with this guy?
"We are too," Cam said to Jean as if it was already a done deal. "Prom's in fifteen days, and we need a drummer if we're going to win the Battle of the Bands."
"What's your band name?" Jean asked skeptically.
Cam winked at Lilith. Again. "The Devil's Business."
Lilith groaned. "There is no way I'd ever be in a band called The Devil's Business. Any band I start is going to be called Revenge."
She hadn't meant to say any of that. It was true, she'd kept that band name like a secret for ages, ever since she'd decided that the best way to get revenge on all the jerks at school would be to get famous and have an actual band with legit musicians and never be seen by anyone from Crossroads again, except for the sold-out shows they'd have to stream online because her band would never, ever play her hometown.
But she'd never planned on saying the name out loud.
Cam's eyes widened. "A band with that name's gonna need a big-ass synthesizer. And a disco ball."
Jean narrowed his eyes. "I'd love to synthesize the shit out of this school," he said after a moment. "I'm in."
"I'm not," Lilith said.
Cam smiled at Lilith. "She's in."
Smile back, Lilith. Other girls would have mirrored his expression, but Lilith wasn't like any other girl she knew. A thick ball of rage settled in her stomach, pulsing at Cam's smugness, his certainty. She scowled and left the band room without another word.
"I'm starving," Cam said as he followed her out of school.
They had made it back to detention in time to switch the intercom back on just before Burroughs did his final room sweep. She'd turned in her exam, mostly blank, and they'd both been excused.
Why wouldn't Cam leave her alone?
In his right hand swung a guitar case he had borrowed from the band room. His canvas bag was over his shoulder.
"Where do you like to eat around here?"
Lilith shrugged. "A nice little spot called none of your business."
"Sounds exotic," Cam said. "Where is it?" As they walked, his smooth fingertips grazed Lilith's calloused ones. She pulled away swiftly, instinctively, with a look that said if that hadn't been an accident, he'd better not try it again.
"I'm going that way." She pointed in the direction of Rattlesnake Creek, wishing she hadn't just divulged her plan. She wasn't suggesting he join her.
But that was exactly what Cam did.
At the edge of the woods, he held aside a carob branch so she could duck underneath. Lilith watched him study the branch, as if he'd never seen this kind of tree before.
"Don't they have carobs where you're from?" she asked. They were everywhere in Crossroads.
"Yes and no," Cam said.
He muttered something under his breath as she made her way to her tree. She sat down and watched the water trickle over the rocks jutting up from the creek bed. A moment later, Cam joined her.
"Where are you from?" she asked.
"Around?" Cam reached between the crooked branches where Lilith stashed her guitar. Sometimes she came here and played when she cut lunch; it helped her to not think about how hungry she was.
"Mysterious?" she said, mimicking his tone and taking the guitar from him.
"Not as cool as it sounds," Cam said. "Last night I slept in the doorway of a TV repair shop."
"O'Malley's on Hill Street?" Lilith said, tuning her high E string. "That's weird. I slept there once when I was grounded and had to get away from Janet." She felt his eyes on her, yearning for her to elaborate. "Janet is my mom." But that was a dead-end topic, so she changed the subject. "How'd you end up here?"
Cam's jaw tensed, and a vein appeared on his forehead, between his eyes. It was clearly the last thing he wanted to discuss, which made Lilith suspicious. He was hiding something, just like she was.
"Enough Behind the Music." Cam opened the guitar case he'd lifted from the band room and took out a green Fender Jaguar, property of Trumbull Prep. "Let's play something."
Lilith sneezed and hugged her stomach. Hunger was running with rusty scissors through her insides.
"A hunger sneeze," Cam said. "I should never have let you talk us out of getting something to eat. Good thing you're with me."
"Why?"
"Because we're good together." He brushed his dark hair from his eyes. "And because
I travel with exquisite snacks."
From his canvas bag he produced a sleeve of water crackers and a short, fat jar with foreign writing on it. He put his hand on the lid and tried to turn it. It didn't budge. He tried once more. The vein appeared on his forehead again.
"Here." Lilith took the jar from him and slid it up her guitar strings, letting one of them pop the vacuum seal. She'd done it once at home when Bruce was hungry and a jar of pickles was the very last thing they had to eat.
The lid twisted open in her hands.
Cam ran the tip of his tongue across his teeth and nodded slightly. "I loosened it for you."
Lilith peered into the jar. It was crammed with tiny, wet, black eggs.
"Ossetra," Cam said. "The finest caviar."
Lilith had no idea what to do with caviar. Where did he get it--especially if he'd slept on the street the night before? Cam opened the package of crackers and used one to scoop out a mound of the glistening black stuff.
"Close your eyes and open your mouth," he said.
She didn't want to, but hunger got the better of her.
The cracker was brittle, the caviar soft and lush. Then the brininess of the eggs struck her, and at first she thought she didn't like it. But she let it sit on her tongue for a moment as a rich sensation spread through her mouth, buttery with an edge of sharpness. She swallowed, already addicted.
When she opened her eyes, Cam was smiling at her.
"Is this expensive?" she asked, feeling guilty.
"Tastes best if you eat it slow."
A calm silence fell between them as they ate. She was grateful for the food, but it bothered her that this guy acted like they were closer than they were. "I should get home," she said. "I'm grounded."
"In that case, you should stay out as long as you can." Cam tilted his head, looking at her the way guys in movies looked at girls they were about to kiss. He stayed like that for a moment; then he picked up her guitar.
"Hey!" Lilith said as a chord filled the air. Her guitar was her most prized possession. No one touched it but Lilith. But as Cam's fingers strummed her strings and he began to hum, she watched him, mesmerized. His song was beautiful--and familiar. She didn't know where she'd heard it before.
"Did you write that?" she couldn't help asking.
"Maybe." He stopped playing. "It needs a female vocalist."