A Beautiful Dark

wasn’t sure, but something told me it was a big deal. I intended to get the answer very soon when I confronted them.
    Unfortunately they were conveniently late to homeroom. Ms. Manning had already begun her morning announcements when Asher sauntered in with a you-gotta-forgive-me grin. Devin trailed in after him, avoiding her accusatory stare.
    As they walked past me, Asher’s grin disappeared. His gaze wandered over me as though he was searching for something. I felt my blood blaze through my cheeks. Then before I knew it, his eyes flicked away from me as he took his seat.
    Devin sat down next to him, and caught my eye. “You okay?” he mouthed as he pushed his backpack under his chair.
    I shook my head slightly. “After class,” I mouthed back.
    But class dragged on longer than usual, just to torture me, it seemed. The clock ticked away, every second stretching into five. I sat in my seat, tearing tiny bits of paper out of my notebook and balling them up into mountains of paper snow on my desk. By the time the bell rang, I was a time bomb ready to explode.
    I couldn’t reach them in the swarm to leave the room. Cassie was trying to talk to me about getting tickets to a show on Thursday at Red Rocks, and when I turned away for a second, they’d disappeared.
    Out in the hall, I thought I caught a glimpse of Asher’s hair as he turned the corner and down a staircase. I followed, maneuvering my way through the between-classes crowd.
    On the first floor, the hallways had begun to thin out. He was at the end of the hall, by my locker. He turned around. Our eyes met.
    He was waiting for me.
    I grabbed him by the arm and dragged him into the nearest empty classroom.
    “Ooh, Skye,” he said, grinning as I slammed the door behind us and pushed him up against it. “I want this, too, but not here! Not now!”
    “Look, I have to talk to you,” I said, ignoring him. But standing there staring into his dark eyes, it was hard to ignore how it felt to be so close to him, to be touching him. Part of me wished, just for a second, that I had pulled him in here for another reason.
    I pushed that thought out of my head and pressed on.
    “My ankle is healed. Completely healed, after Devin touched it. And you created fire, out of thin air. And before that, there was an avalanche, and before that , a brand-new boiler exploded in the middle of my party—when you and Devin were fighting. And you know a story that my parents used to sing to me at night as they put me to bed. How do you know it? How do you know the stories they made up just for me?”
    The smile melted away from Asher’s face, and his eyes grew serious. I loosened my grip on him, and he slipped away from the door, moving farther into the empty classroom.
    “Look, Skye—”
    “They were bedtime lullabies. Stories. That’s all they were supposed to be. Stories . Something to help me fall asleep.” As I said it out loud, I felt the adrenaline I’d been holding inside all morning begin to seep out. I sat down in an empty chair.
    Asher ran a hand through his dark hair, watching me. “I’m sorry,” he said, clearly agitated.
    “Just tell me,” I choked out. “If this involves my parents, I have a right to know.”
    “Look, I know how you feel. I want to, I really do. But not here.” He glanced over my head toward the door. “If Devin sees us—”
    “I don’t care about Devin!” I yelled, my temper rising. “I want to know, Asher. Tell me.” I steeled my voice, quieted it. “Does this have anything to do with my parents?”
    He looked torn, his jaw working like he was grappling with something.
    “Okay,” he finally decided. “Meet me on the roof after school. I will tell you everything. I promise. Maybe not all at once, but . . .” I leveled him with my gaze, and he faltered. “It’s still being worked out, a lot of it. We don’t know . . .” I waited for him to finish, but it seemed like he’d said everything he was going to say.
    “‘We’ as in . . . you and Devin?”
    He rested both hands against the desk, then stood up again and paced the room restlessly.
    “That’s all I can tell you right now,” he said. “Until it’s time. It’s . . . it’s the one rule I promised I’d follow.”
    “Fine. You’d better be there.” I stood to leave, but he grabbed my hand.
    “I’m sorry,” he said again, softer this time. I lifted my eyes from our hands and looked up into his face. I could tell that he meant it. I