Read Online The Lingering Grace by Jessica Arnold - Free Book Online Page B

chance Eva would have been able to see someone through the barely open door.
    “Last chance,” she whispered to herself. Exhaling, she looked at the empty stalls. Afraid of the weird looks she would get if someone walked in and saw her crouched on the floor, she bolted to the handicap stall and locked herself in. She sat on top of the toilet and, now hidden from view, felt her body relax a little. Her toes tapped against the floor.
    She closed her eyes this time; the incantation wasn’t long and she found she could remember it without much effort at all. As she spoke, she pictured the words in her mind in glowing silver letters, like tendrils of white fire. And with a rush of excitement, she felt it—again. Except this time the sensation wasn’t heat, but cold; her fingertips were icy, almost numb. A wave of chills rushed from the top of her head to the tips of her nails, so strong it made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end. But, unlike her experience in the classroom, the feeling did not spiral out of control. She held it in her hands for a moment, then—let go.
    It sped away from her, leaving her neither breathless nor afraid. She opened her eyes and looked around but couldn’t see anything different. She listened to the sounds of the hallway and wondered why the room seemed so silent when, if anything, there were more students outside than before.
    That’s when she heard a footstep.
    She froze, then quickly stuffed the book into her bag. She held tightly to her backpack and breathlessly waited for the other person to walk into a stall so that she could escape unseen. When she heard nothing, she realized she was not going to get out of here unnoticed and still get to class on time. She flushed the toilet.
    The pipes whimpered. No water came into the toilet bowl.
    She tried again and there was a roar, but still no water. Looking closely at the bowl for the first time, she realized that the water at the bottom was glassy. Not water at all. Ice.
    “Alice?”
    Hearing her own name made Alice jump. Heart racing, she opened the stall door and found herself face to face with Eva. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the dripping faucet—one teardrop of ice hanging precariously from the tap. Her cheeks flushed and she scrambled for something to say.
    “The toilet’s broken,” she mumbled.
    But Eva didn’t ask her any questions, nor did she look at all confused. If anything, Alice realized, studying Eva’s expression more closely, the new girl looked delighted. Her lips parted and curved—a cross between a gasp and a smile.
    “I thought I felt something,” she said.
    Saw something , Alice silently corrected her. She had seen Alice through the door—she must have.
    “Class is starting soon,” Alice said, pushing past her, anxious to escape. After yesterday’s disaster in the parking lot, Alice had been hoping to avoid Eva for the rest of the week. “I’ll be late.”
    Eva grabbed her hand and an electric shock burned Alice’s fingers. She winced.
    “You asked me if I wanted to get together. I think we should.”
    “You—you do?” Alice asked. The ice hanging from the faucet broke and fell into the sink with a clatter; Alice glanced at it, then at Eva, wondering why she wasn’t shocked by the ice—why she was staring at the sink without the tiniest hint of confusion. Either Eva hadn’t noticed (but how could she not?), or …
    She knew it was magic.
    “Come over to my house after school today. My mom won’t mind.”
    Alice hesitated, but Eva smiled at her and said very sweetly, “Please. I’d love to get to know you better.”
    After their conversation yesterday, this eagerness to be friends was giving Alice whiplash.
    “Okay. I mean … I guess I can.”
    “Great. Now you’d better get to class. I don’t want to make you late.”
    Alice nodded and rushed for the door, too many questions running through her mind to even begin to address.
    “And Alice,” Eva called after her just