Hush.

5::Charcoal

He really never talked.

Despite telling me his name, I never, not once, ever heard him utter a single word. And nobody else did, either.

That only intrigued me more.

I was itching to find out more about him, to locate Lilia and ask what she knew, what she could tell me. But at the moment Todd’s arm was around my waist, my friends were pinning me in, and I couldn’t escape.

“You have to come to this one, Annie,” Carly began, resorting to her keening whiny voice. I winced, resisting the urge to slap my hands over my ears.

“Seriously,” Amy spoke up. “It’s Janet’s birthday, and you know how many people will be there. You can’t just not go. You’re Annie Davis. It’s, like, a written rule that you’ll be there.”

I pursed my lips. I didn’t like the thought of there being a written rule that I attend outrageous parties where majority of the population would drink underage. “I don’t know.”

“Of course you do, babe,” Todd butt in, pressing a sloppy kiss to my mouth. “I’ll pick you up at seven. Wear that dress I got you.”

I tried not to vomit at that thought. Working at Hoover’s, I had a whole new definition of the word “lewd”, and a whole new view on what could be considered modest. But Todd picking out my clothes . . .

There was nothing modest about that.

After declining an offer for Todd to drive me home, I said goodbye to them and then started toward the guidance office. The school was mostly deserted—the place could really clear out on a Friday—so I had no trouble meandering through the halls. My mind was jam-packed with dates and things to remember, my job schedule, what my mother could be doing, stupid parties I was roped into attending.

But all I could focus on was thoughts of the new kid. That guarded look shielding his dark green eyes like an awning, protecting his soul and his sanity from whatever they needed protecting from.

I definitely knew what I was writing my article on.

I just had to get him to say more than his name.

I walked at a steady gait toward the guidance office, not sure what I would ask but knowing I needed to find out something regardless. Newspaper class had been completely unproductive, consisting of me staring blankly at a wall for an hour. Mrs. Hayman hadn’t been too happy, but I wasn’t getting any inspiration. Mostly because I didn’t know anything about this kid.

That had to change.

So when I knocked on the door and Lilia told me to come in, I seated myself right in the chair across from her and I said, “Ezra.”

She blinked. “Yes.”

“That’s his name.”

“The new kid?”

“Uh-huh.”

“How did you know?”

“I asked him.”

Lily smiled. “You mean he spoke? Hm. The kid doesn’t usually talk. That’s so great! Maybe you guys could be friends. I think he just needs a friend.”

I nodded. “So what do you—what do you know about him? Can you tell me anything?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Annie, you know I’m bound by the confidentiality agreement—”

“Yes,” I interjected. “Yes, I know. But surely there’s something you can share?”

She tapped her chin, chewing her lip in thought. “He’s from Chicago,” she informed me, staring contemplatively up at the ceiling. “His favorite color is red.”