Read Online Shade by Jeri Smith-Ready - Free Book Online Page B

the time I’d sat on them. “The Valium’s worn off.” I pulled out into traffic, probably a little faster than I should have. “If we have to get together to work on this project, we could meet on campus halfway.”
    The car beside me honked, and Zachary grabbed the armrest as I swerved back to the center of my lane. Then he quickly let go and scratched his chin, as if to prove my driving didn’t scare him.
    “We’re in a temporary let,” he said, “while my dad gets settled at Hopkins. It’s just one room, plus a wee kitchen.”
    “He’s a guest lecturer?”
    “Something like that.”
    “Which department?”
    “Political science,” Zachary said quickly, as if he’d been waiting for me to ask. “We’re here for two semesters.”
    “Is that what you want to do too? Political science?”
    He pressed his foot to the floor as we approached the stoplight, apparently too fast for his taste. “No, I could never do what he does.”
    “So three of you in a studio apartment? Or do you have siblings,too?” I didn’t know why I cared. Trying to avoid silence, I guess.
    “It’s just me and him.”
    I stopped the car at the light and adjusted my passenger side mirror (I always forget that one). “Your mom’s back in Scotland?”
    “Er, maybe.”
    “Is it a secret? She’s a spy or something?”
    Zachary folded his arms and gave me a bitter look. “If it’s a secret, I’m no’ privy to it.”
    “Sorry.” I probably should have revealed my own parental lack, so we could bond over the voids in our respective lives. But my nerves were too raw from losing Logan for me to talk about my mom and dad.
    We both fell quiet until we got to the freeway and the sun came out.
    “Don’t laugh.” I put on a pair of sunglasses in front of my regular glasses, officially becoming a gold-medal dork.
    Zachary didn’t laugh. “How do you see like that?”
    “Better than squinting and getting a headache.”
    “Why not get prescription sunglasses?”
    “They’re expensive, and I never wear my glasses out of the house.”
    “Did you lose a contact lens, then?”
    “No, they wouldn’t fit.” Maybe because my eyes were almost swollen shut from crying.
    “Ah.” Zachary shrugged out of his dark brown leather jacket, tugging it from under the seat belt’s shoulder harness. I checked out his clothing in my peripheral vision. Just a few days ago, I would’ve envied his black shirt. Pre-Shifters had no idea what it was like to have to choose between wearing red or suffering major ghost harassment.
    But I wasn’t envious anymore. I twisted the hem of my raspberry-coloredsweater and thought about its burgundy twin (or triplet, if you count the scarlet one too). Maybe some new clothes would bring Logan back.
    My hands tightened on the steering wheel.
Get real, Aura. He’s not coming back, not for clothes, not for anything.
    As we passed the Inner Harbor, Zachary craned his neck at the USS
Constellation
out the back window. “That ship’s huge. Was it used for battles?”
    “It’s got cannons, so I guess so.” Apparently, the testosterone-y obsession with weapons wasn’t just for American guys.
    “Have you been inside?”
    “Ugh, not since I was a kid.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose, already sore from the weight of two pairs of glasses. “It’s terminally haunted.”
    “Oh, right. I guess they can’t BlackBox it without tearing it apart.”
    I shrugged. “That, and it helps sell tickets.”
    On the interstate I changed the subject to our project. Zachary took notes on the research I’d done so far, which wasn’t much. But I had set out the scope and direction, and I wasn’t about to let him drag me off course.
    I didn’t tell Zachary how I’d found our adviser, Dr. Harris. That summer I’d discovered a locked box at the back of my aunt’s closet. The key was in her bottom drawer with a bunch of other family keepsakes. When I unlocked the box, I found a journal and a pile of old photos from the