Becca Fitzpatrick

“I wrinkled my nose, trying to figure out what he smelled like. Not cigarettes. Something richer, fouler.Cigars.”

“His black eyes sliced into me, and the corners of his mouth tilted up. My heart fumbled a bit and in that pause, a feeling of gloomy darkness seemed to slide like a shadow over me. It vanished in an instant but I was still staring at him. His smile wasn't friendly. It was a smile that spelled trouble. With a promise.”

“Vee scowled at him. She is famous for that scowl. It's a look that does everything but audibly hiss.”

“You picked the seats you did for a reason, right? Familiarity. Too bad the best sleuths avoid familiarity. It dulls the investigative instinct.”

“I’d like to. Problem is, I’m not stupid.”“You act stupid.”“Right. Thanks for that. For your information, there’s a difference between acting stupid and being stupid.”“It’s a fine line, but someone has to draw it.”

“My legs are falling asleep,” I blurted. It wasn’t a total lie. I was experiencing tingling sensations all through my body, legs included.“I could solve that.” Patch’s hands closed on myhips.”

“My thoughts dissolved and just like that, a new thought broke the surface of mymind. I wanted to kiss him. Right now.Patch arched his eyebrows. “What?”“Uh—nothing. Nothing at all. You wash, I’ll dry.”

“Cooking isn’t taught,” Patch said. “It’s inherent. Either you’ve got it or you don’t. Like chemistry. You think you’re ready for chemistry?” I pressed the knife down through the tomato; it split in two, each half rocking gently on the cutting board. “You tell me. Am I ready for chemistry?” Patch made a deep sound I couldn’t decipher and grinned.”

“First,” he said, coming behind me and placing his hands on the counter, just outside of mine, “choose your tomato.” He dipped his head so his mouth was at my ear. His breath was warm, tickling my skin. “Good. Now pick up the knife.”“Does the chef always stand this close?” I asked, not sure if I liked or feared the flutter his closeness caused inside me.“When he’s revealing culinary secrets, yes.”

“It’s brown.” So maybe I had the teeniest, tiniest, most infinitesimal amount of auburn in my hair. I was still a brunette. “It’s the lighting,” I said.“Yeah, maybe it’s the lightbulbs.” His smile brought up both sides of his mouth, and a dimple surfaced.”

“Patch smiled. “You come by your red hair naturally?”I stared at him. “I don’t have red hair.”“I hate to break it to you, but it’s red. I could light iton fire and it wouldn’t turn any redder.”

“I took three steps back; he nudged the door closed with his foot. “You like Mexican?” he asked.“I—” I’d like to know what you’re doing inside my house!“Tacos?”“Tacos?” I echoed.This seemed to amuse him. “Tomatoes, lettuce, cheese.”“I know what a taco is!”

“Wow. Nice bike,” I said. Which was a lie. It looked like a glossy black death trap.”

“My arms hurt from how tightly Patch held me. “Now that’s what I call a scream,” he said, grinning at me.”

“Your past wouldn’t frighten me,” I said, buckling my seat belt across my lap. “I’m guessing I’d be more appalled than anything.”

“Love the hair. Love when it’s out of control. It’s like seeing a side of you that needs to come out more often.”

“Patch grinned down at me. “I’m hard to resist.”

“Before I could stop myself, I punched his arm.“Careful,” he said in a low voice. “They might thinkwe’re flirting.”

“Pac-Man? Or is it Donkey Kong?” In truth, it looked a little more violent and military.A slow grin spread over his face. “Baseball. Think maybe you could stand behind me and give me a few pointers?”

“Let me show you,” he said in my ear. “Like this. Feel that? Relax. Now pivot your hips—it’s all in the hips.”

“Your file was empty. Nothing. Not even an immunization record.” He didn’t even pretend to look surprised. He eased back in his seat, eyes gleaming obsidian.“And you’re telling me this because you’re afraid I might cause an outbreak? Measles or mumps?”“I’m telling you this because I want you to know that I know something about you isn’t right. You haven’t fooled everybody. I’m going to find out what you’re up to. I’m going to expose you.”“Looking forward to it.”I flushed, catching the innuendo too late.”

“Listen, Patch, I don’t want to be rude, but—”“Sure you do.”“Well, you started it!” Lovely. Very mature.”

“Shouldn’t you be working instead of fraternizing with customers?” I choked.He smiled. “What are you doing Sunday night?”I snorted. By accident. “Are you asking me out?”“You’re getting cocky. I like that, Angel.”“I don’t care what you like. I’m not going out with you. Not on a date. Not alone.”

“Well, well,” he said. “Five days a week isn’t enough of me? Had to give me an evening, too?”

“Mr. Green Sweater looks normal, but his wingman looks hard-core bad boy,” said Vee. "Emits a certain don’t-mess-with-me signal. Tell me he doesn’t look like Dracula’s spawn. Tell me I’m imagining things.”

“You’re not going to drive me home?” I asked. A waste of breath, since I knew her answer.“There’s fog.”“Patchy fog.”Vee grinned. “Oh, boy. He is so on your mind. Not that I blame you. Personally, I’m hoping I dream about him tonight.”

“You’ve got food stuck in your teeth,” Vee toldMarcie. “In the crack between your two front teeth.Looks like chocolate Ex-Lax …”

“I’m starting a petition to have Coach fired,” Vee said, coming to my table. “What was up with class today? It was watered-down porn. He practically had you and Patch on top of your lab table, horizontal, minus your clothes, doing the Big Deed—”I nailed her with a look that said, Does it look like I want a replay?”

“The blood vessels in Nora’s face are widening and her skin is warming,” Patch said. “She knows she’s being evaluated. She likes the attention, but she’s not sure how to handle it.”“I am not blushing.”“She’s nervous,” Patch said. “She’s stroking her arm to draw attention away from her face and down to her figure, or maybe her skin. Both are strong selling points.”

“I study her,” Patch said. “I figure out what she’s thinking and feeling. She’s not going to come right out and tell me, which is why I have to pay attention. Does she turn her body toward mine? Does she hold my eyes, then look away? Does she bite her lip and play with her hair, the way Nora is doing right now?” Laughter rose in the room. I dropped my hands to my lap. “She’s game,” said Patch, bumping my leg again.Of all things, I blushed.”

“Men are attracted to beauty because it indicates health and youth—no point mating with a sickly woman who won’t be around to raise the children.”

“Since the dawn of time, women have been attracted to mates with strong survival skills—like intelligence and physical prowess—because men with these qualities are more likely to bring home dinner at the end of the day.” He stuck his thumbs in the air and grinned. “Dinner equals survival, team.”

“Every animal on the planet attracts mates with the goal of reproduction. Frogs swell their bodies. Male gorillas beat their chests. Have you ever watched a male lobster rise up on the tips of his legs and snap his claws, demanding female attention? Attraction is the first element of all animal reproduction, humans included.”

“Does this have anything to do with the unit we’re studying? Because I can’t find anything about desired characteristics of a mate anywhere in our text.”

“You want me to list characteristics of a … ?”“Potential mate, yes, that would be helpful..."Without meaning to, I looked sideways at Patch. He was eased back in his seat, one notch above a slouch, studying me with satisfaction. He flashed his pirate smile and mouthed, We’re waiting.I stacked my hands on the table, hoping I lookedmore composed than I felt. “I’ve never thought about it before.”“Well, think fast.”“Could you call on someone else first?”Coach gestured impatiently to my left. “You’re up, Patch.”Unlike me, Patch spoke with confidence. He had himself positioned so his body was angled slightly toward mine, our knees mere inches apart.“Intelligent. Attractive. Vulnerable”

“That’s an unfortunate place for a birthmark,” I said, more than a little unnerved that it was so similarly positioned to my own scar. Patch casually but noticeably slid his sleeve down over his wrist. “You’d prefer it someplace more private?”“I wouldn’t prefer it anywhere.” I wasn’t sure how this sounded and tried again. “I wouldn’t care if you didn’t have it at all.” I tried a third time. “I don’t care about your birthmark, period.”

“You’ve never been to school, ever? If that’s true— and you’re right, I don’t think it is—what made you decide to come this year?”“You....Your eyes, Nora. Those cold, pale gray eyes are surprisingly irresistible.” He tipped his head sideways, as if to study me from a new angle. “And that killer curvy mouth.”

“Religion?” I asked more firmly.Patch dragged a hand thoughtfully along the line of his jaw. “Not religion … cult.”“You belong to a cult?” I realized too late that while I sounded surprised, I shouldn’t have.“As it turns out, I’m in need of a healthy female sacrifice. I’d planned on luring her into trusting me first, but if you’re ready now …”

“Biggest dream?” I was proud of this one because I knew it would stump him. It required forethought.“Kiss you.”“That’s not funny,” I said, holding his eyes, grateful I didn’t stutter.“No, but it made you blush.”

“Your name?” I repeated, hoping it was my imagination that my voice faltered.“Call me Patch. I mean it. Call me”

“Human reproduction can be a stickysubject—”“Ewww!” groaned a chorus of students”

“Good sleuthing takes practice,...“So does sex,” came another back-of-the-room comment. We all bit back laughter while Coach pointed a warning finger at the offender.“That won’t be part of tonight’s homework.”

“It may not have occurred to you kids that sex is more than a fifteen-minute trip to the backseat of a car. It’s science. And what is science?”“Boring.”

“You belong to the biblical race of Nephilim. Your real father was an angel who fell from heaven. You're half mortal." The boy's dark eyes lifted, meeting Chauncey's. "Half fallen angel." Chauncey's tutor's voice drifted up from the recesses of his mind, reading passages from the Bible, telling of a deviant race created when angels cast from heaven mated with mortal women. A fearsome and powerful race. A chill that wasn't entirely revulsion crept through Chauncey. "Who are you?”

“Do I look like a summer fling?”

“How warm I feel. How icredibly alive and vibrant and heedless every last inch of me feels next to you.”

“It didn't escape me that he couldn't seem to stop finding reasons to touch me. Nor did I miss that I didn't want him to stop.”

“No, hear me out. The long answer to that question is that everything about me has changed since meeting you. What I wanted five months ago is different from what I want today. Did I want a human body? Yes, very much. Is it my top priority now? No." He looked at me with serious eyes."I gave up something I wanted for something I need. And I need you, Angel. More than I think you'll ever know.”

“GUESS WHERE I AM.CLUE? she texted back SWEAR U WON'T TELL A SOUL? U HAVE 2 ASK?I reluctantly texted,@ DINNER W. MARCIE'S DAD.#?@#$?!&MY MOM IS DATING HIM.TRAITOR! IF THEY GET MARRIED, U & MARCIE...COULD USE A LITTLE CONSOLATION HERE!DOES HE KNOW UR TEXTING ME? Vee asked.NO. THEY R INSIDE. I'M IN THE PARKING LOT ----COOPERSMITHS.THE PIMP. 2 GOOD 4 APPLEBEE'S, I SEE.I'M GOING 2 ORDER THE MOST EXPENSIVE THINGS ON THE MENU. IF ALL GOES WELL,HIM GOING TO THROW HANK'S DRINK IN HIS FACE 2.”

“Guess who has PE first hour? This is so unfair. I start the day off perspiring like an elephant in heat. Don't the people who make up our schedule understand body odor? Don't they understand frizzy hair?”