Juliet Immortal

god, I’m so glad you’re okay.” She presses a firm kiss to my hair. “You’re okay, right? You’re—”
    “I’m fine, Mom, and I’m so sorry,” I say before she can get another word in. “I found Ben and we started talking and by the time we looked outside the car was under and we weren’t getting any cell service and it wasn’t safe to walk home in the storm because of the lightning and—”
    “It’s fine. I don’t care. I’m just glad you’re safe.”
    “The car’s underwater.”
    “I know, we saw it on the way in, and I thought …” She swallows and smiles through the tears that still stand in hereyes. “It doesn’t matter what I thought. You’re okay.” She bites her lip. “Did Victor tell you about Nancy?”
    “He did.” The tears that rise to my eyes aren’t forced. I only met her for a moment, but Ariel’s memories of Nancy are of a tirelessly good woman. Nancy was extraordinarily kind; she was a gentle soul who has been stolen by evil. Whether Romeo is the evil responsible I mean to discover as soon as possible.
    Ben appears at my side and gives Melanie a shy wave. “Hi, Mrs. Dragland. I’m Ben Luna.”
    After the slightest pause, Melanie smiles. She isn’t sold, but she’s obviously trying to keep an open mind where the boy I’ve confessed to loving is concerned. “Hello, Ben.” I watch them and a sick feeling swims through my stomach. Why did I say what I said?
    I know why. Because I didn’t guess the truth in time, didn’t dare to believe. But now, the last thing I want is for Ben to become any more ingrained in Ariel’s life. I can’t stay in this body. I have to leave, and to keep him safe I need him to leave with me.
    The thought makes me shiver as one of the policemen wraps a big blue blanket around my shoulders. What if I find some way to work the spell, but Ben doesn’t realize I’ve left Ariel’s body? What if I’m wrong and he doesn’t see soul-deep? What if this skin—and a nice girl inside it, who will remember him as her new boyfriend—are enough for him?
    And what about Ariel? Will she grieve the loss of Ben if he
does
realize his soul mate has shifted bodies? Will I have made her life worse, when I set out so determined to improve it? What am I doing? How can I—
    “Don’t worry,” Ben whispers as we follow the policemen and Melanie to the barn door. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
    I turn to look at him. How did he—
    “It is.” He reaches out, takes my hand. “I promise.”
    I slip my fingers through his, praying he’s right.

TWENTY
    T he flag at the school flutters at half-mast, waving mournfully in the harsh wind of yet another storm.
    Nancy Kjeldgaard wasn’t a head of state, but she served coffee, hot chocolate, pastries, and sandwiches to three generations of Solvang High School students. She listened to their stories and slipped extra treats onto their trays and offered kind words and encouragement when they were needed most. To the kids slumping into school today on the worst Friday most can remember, she was more important than a president. She was someone who loved them.
    From my chair in the office waiting area, I can see the flag and the concrete path beneath, watch people on their way inpause beside it and look up, fear and sorrow mixing on their faces. It’s the biggest reaction I’ve seen out of most of them. It makes me wonder what Solvang High School would be like if there were more people like Nancy here.
    But at SHS, most of the adults are as disinterested as the students.
    Even Mr. Stark seems more bored than angry to be starting his day with a disciplinary meeting. He sits in the principal’s office with Mrs. Felix, awaiting the arrival of the superintendent, nursing an extra-large coffee and staring blindly out the window. Mrs. Felix answers an endless stream of phone calls, not bothering to stifle her yawns as she assures one parent after another that the campus will be locked down tight during lunch until whoever murdered Nancy Kjeldgaard is caught. But even murder doesn’t seem to arouse her interest. Her finely wrinkled face sags with exhaustion, and her brown eyes remain as dull as dirty pennies.
    Melanie is the only adult who seems truly awake. She fidgets next to me, thin fingers laced together, her hands resting on one bouncing knee. We’re fifteen minutes early. Ben and his brother have yet to show and there’s no sign of Dylan or Gemma.
    I wonder if Romeo will even bother. If he