The doctor stands, extending his hand to me. “Yes, I won’t poke and prod you anymore, my dear.” There is nothing generic about his smile now. “It was certainly a pleasure to meet you, young lady.”

But I’m already down the hall, my clothes tucked tight under my arm.

20

GALEN SLIDES into his desk, unsettled by the way the sturdy blond boy talking to Emma casually rests his arm on the back of her seat.

“Good morning,” Galen says, leaning over to wrap his arms around her, nearly pulling her from the chair. He even rests his cheek against hers for good measure. “Good morning … er, Mark, isn’t it?” he says, careful to keep his voice pleasant. Still, he glances meaningfully at the masculine arm still lining the back of Emma’s seat, almost touching her.

To his credit—and safety—Mark eases the offending limb back to his own desk, offering Emma a lazy smile full of strikingly white teeth. “You and Forza, huh? Did you clear that with his groupies?”

She laughs and gently pries Galen’s arms off her. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees the eruption of pink spreading like spilled paint over her face. She’s not used to dating him yet. Until about ten minutes ago, he wasn’t used to it either. Now though, with the way Mark eyes her like a tasty shellfish, playing the role of Emma’s boyfriend feels all too natural.

The bell rings, saving Emma from a reply and saving Mark thousands of dollars in hospital bills. Emma shoots Galen a withering look, which he deflects with what he hopes is an enchanting grin. He measures his success by the way her blush deepens but stops short when he notices the dark circles under her eyes.

She didn’t sleep last night. Not that he thought she would. She’d been quiet on the flight home from Destin two nights ago. He didn’t pressure her to talk about it with him, mostly because he didn’t know what to say once the conversation got started. So many times, he’s started to assure her that he doesn’t see her as an abomination, but it seems wrong to say it out loud. Like he’s willfully disagreeing with the law. But how could those delicious-looking lips and those huge violet eyes be considered an abomination?

What’s even crazier is that not only does he not consider her an abomination, the fact that she could be a Half-Breed ignited a hope in him he’s got no right to feel: Grom would never mate with a half human. At least, Galen doesn’t think he would.

He glances at Emma, whose silky eyelids don’t even flutter in her state of light sleep. When he clears his throat, she startles. “Thank you,” she mouths to him as she picks her pencil back up, using the eraser to trace the lines in her textbook as she reads. He acknowledges with a nod. He doesn’t want to leave her like this, anxious and tense and out of place in her own beautiful skin.

But he needs to go to Romul. Romul will be able to tell him more about the half-humans, about why Triton hated them. It’s not something Galen ever thought he’d ask; it’s always been easy enough to find reasons to hate the humans. Still, his handful of human friends makes it impossible for him to hate the species as a whole. And one day, he might need the law to side with him on that point.

The bell rings, startling him from his thoughts and Emma from another mini nap. He grabs her backpack and holds it open while she shovels her book and paper into it. Before she can get away, he grabs her hand, entwining their fingers the way Rachel showed him. He’s surprised when Emma leans into him, resting her head on his biceps. Maybe she’s more used to dating him than he thought.

She yawns. “Let’s skip the rest of the day and take a nap at your house.”

He squeezes her hand. Spending the rest of the day with her alone at his house is the best and worst thing he can think of. “Your mom will kill me and ground you.”

“I didn’t sleep last night.”

“I can tell.”

“I look that bad?”

“You look that tired.”

They stop in front of the door to their next class. He reaches to open it for her. “Galen,” she says, looking up at him. “Please.”

He sighs. “I can’t miss school today. I might miss tomorrow.”

The curiosity perks her right up. “Why?”

He pulls her out of the way as some of their classmates dawdle into the room. The tardy bell rings. “I’m going to talk to the Archives tonight. To see what else I can find out about the half-breeds. I thought maybe that would make you feel better about…” He shrugs, unable to finish the half truth. “Besides, I have to get back here before Friday. Rachel thinks we need to go on a date Friday night. You know, for show.”

“Oh,” she says, her lashes tangling together in the world’s longest blink. She yawns again. “Like the movies or something?”

“She said a few things. Movies was one of them, I think. Something about roller-skating and bowling, too.”

Emma gives a drowsy laugh. “If you think I’m deadly in flip-flops, you should see me in roller skates.”

“Movies it is, then. I’m not willing to risk another concussion.” He ushers her to the door, and she lets him open it for her. Tyler, a junior with an Adam’s apple the size of his nose, subtly waves them to the seats he saved in the back row. Galen slips him a twenty dollar bill as Tyler shuffles his things to an open desk up front.

While Emma sleeps through physics, Galen dutifully takes notes on thermodynamics for her. On a separate sheet of paper, he lists questions he wants to ask Romul. Still, even after he’s checked and rechecked the list, there’s a question he’s forgetting. It gnaws at him, teasing him from the edge of his brain, not quite getting close enough to grasp.