A Fractured Light (Beautiful Dark)

in the air was thick. To the rest of the cafeteria, it looked like the new guys clearly felt they had to stake their claim on the school or else. But I knew the truth. They were Guardians, and this was our first warning.
    It’s only a matter of time. That’s what the notebook had said, right? Not for the first time, I wondered who had written it.
    Lucas made an I’m Watching You gesture to Gideon, and he and his friends turned and stalked toward the soda machines.
    The Rebels looked livid.
    Dan sat back down at the table and stared at his stack of fries.
    “You gonna eat those?” Ian asked.
    “What? Oh, yeah,” Dan said. “Help yourself.”
    Cassie’s face clouded over. “Oh my god, Dan, really?” Dan looked up.
    “Really, what?”
    “I get that you think she’s hot, but you don’t have to be all obvious about it!”
    “What? I didn’t even say anything.”
    “No, but I can tell . It’s, like, oozing out of you.”
    “Oozing? Really?”
    “Shut up,” Cassie said, standing up and shoving a fry into his ear. Ian and I burst into laughter. “I’ve got things to do after school today,” she said crisply. She grabbed her crutches and huffed off.
    “Cass, come on!” Dan scrambled after her, leaving his fries untouched on the table. “Don’t be like that!”
    “Oh, so now I’m like that !” Cassie’s voice trailed after her.
    “His loss.” Ian grabbed a fry off Dan’s plate.
    No matter how much we try to keep things around us from changing , I realized, standing up and walking my tray over to the conveyer belt, the universe tends toward chaos .
    “Let that be a warning to you,” a cold voice said, low in my ear. I turned around, and found myself face-to-face with Raven. “Your little Rebel boyfriend can’t protect you all the time,” she said. “So you better start learning to protect yourself. Because wherever you go, whatever you do, we’re watching you.” She turned to leave, winking at me over her shoulder just before she pushed through the cafeteria doors.

Chapter 11
    A s I walked through the crowded halls, my hands were shaking so hard that I had to grasp the handle of my book bag to keep them steady. I felt so distant from every other student pushing past me. The thought occurred to me that I might never feel like one of them again.
    I kept pushing and didn’t even realize that the bell had rung until the hall cleared out and I found myself walking alone.
    Devin was already sitting at a table in the library by the history stacks. He looked up when I walked in, then looked back down at his notebook. I slid into a chair across from him.
    My heart beat uncontrollably. I didn’t want him to sense my panic, but it was hard just to breathe. Even so, the longer we sat there in silence, the calmer I began to feel. It was his Guardian presence, the serenity that always radiated from him. I’d forgotten what that felt like. I closed my eyes, and realized that my hands had stopped shaking. When I opened them again only a second later, Devin was looking at me. He closed his notebook.
    “I’ll let Ms. Manning know this isn’t going to work,” he said, looking away. “She’ll find someone else to tutor you.” Then he stood up, shifted his backpack from one shoulder to the other, and walked out of the library without once lifting his eyes.
    I stared after him, watching the door swing on its hinges.
     
    I drove Cassie and Dan back to Cassie’s right after school, leaving them to sort things out. By the time I pulled out of the driveway, they were kissing, so the effects of their lunchtime fight must not have been very lasting. I headed home, letting relief overtake me when I pulled into my own driveway. I threw my backpack down by the front door and collapsed onto the porch swing. A breeze blew in from the mountains, bringing another tantalizing hint of spring. Maybe winter would thaw soon. The sky would stay lighter longer, and the nights wouldn’t feel quite so dark.
    My arms and legs felt restless, and there was a burning energy inside me. I couldn’t go into town, and no one had gone over the catch-up homework with me. I felt like if I didn’t get up and do something, my restlessness was going to eat me alive. If this had been a normal winter afternoon, I’d have been at ski practice. But I’d quit the team, too scared of how my powers might manifest if I lost control on the slopes.
    I needed to move.
    As if the energy was guiding me, I got up off the porch swing and