Cold Tomorrow

[13]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

It's raining when we come out for lunch. The air knocks into me, having picked up since this morning, and cuts through my uniform like shards of ice, stray droplets of water stinging as they hit my legs. I hug my books to my chest in an attempt to retain warmth.

"There you are," says Caden, approaching from behind. I was waiting for him by the lockers, not wanting to head into the crowded lunch area without him. Even now, there is still something about crowds I can't stand.

His presence fills me with relief. "Hey. How was English?"

He shrugs, his blazer shifting across his broad shoulders at the movement. "Alright. The teacher's insane though."

"That seems to be a pattern at this school. They're either strict, mean or downright nuts."

He smirks. "True." After a moment's thought, he asks, "Are we still sitting what that Roma girl's group?" I had convinced him join the group with me at recess and had endured a painful session of introductions and questioning as a result. We both stuck to our stories – I'm deciding to try normal school for the first time, and Caden is switching from his old college because his dad got a better job and can afford a more expensive education. Unfortunately, we can't escape the apparent coincidence of our moving to this school at the same time – something Roma's group just loved pointing out, alongside our newly given boyfriend-girlfriend status.

I exhale. "I don't know," I say, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind my ear.

"We don't have to if you don't want to. Besides, I've heard some particularly not-nice things about Roma."

I look up at him. "What kind of things?"

"Well, the general attitude is that she's a bitch."

I frown. "That doesn't sound right."

"It surprised me as well at first. But we've only known her for half a day – less. I don't think we know enough to make a sound judgement."

I gaze down at the wet pavement, letting the loose strands of hair fall into my eyes. "Maybe," I say softly, not really caring. Already, I'm feeling tired of this – of school. There's too much judgement, too much gossip, too much intrusion. I feel like a carcass slowly being picked apart by vultures – a memory here, a secret there, and a whole bucket-load of lies I'm forced to keep feeding them. Plus, I'm worried about what they'll find if they dig too far.

Caden puts a hand under my chin and lifts my head up, forcing me to meet his eyes. "Hey, how are you doing?" he asks gently.

"Fine."

"I know that's not true."

"Well if you already knew the answer, why did you ask?" My voice comes out more sharply than I intended. I sigh. "Sorry, I'm not angry, I'm just–"

"You're tired," he finishes for me. "It's okay."

Now that it's out there, my shoulders droop, and I take a seat on one of the sheltered benches. Caden moves to sit next to me. "I feel like I'm always tried. Tired or angry or afraid or upset. I just want it to stop. All of it – the visions and the fear and the lies. Hell, even the truth is bad. I don't know why everything has to be so hard."

Caden tucks my hair behind my ear, his fingers cool where they brush my skin. Moments later, the gusty wind drags it free again. "If life were easy, we'd all get bored."

"I'd rather be bored than in pain."

He doesn't say anything for a while, but looks down at his hands. I think about all he's lost, all he's given up to help me. He could have had a life – and a mostly normal one at that. But now death hangs over both of us, and according to my vision, it seems to like him a little too much.