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a more meaningful purpose in her research. All that effort gone to waste.

The last of my projects showed development the next day, however. In AP Chemistry, Greg Slade and some of his friends scurried into class just as the bell rang. Our teacher gave them a warning look, but they didn't even notice. Slade was preening over his eagle tattoo, baring it for everyone to see. The ink was gleaming silver again. Next to him, one of his friends was also proudly showing off another silver tattoo. It was a pair of stylized crossed daggers, which was only slightly less tacky than the eagle. This was the same friend who had been worrying earlier this week that he wouldn't be able to get a tattoo. Apparently, things had worked out with the supplier. Interesting. Part of holding off on reporting to the Alchemists had been to see if Nevermore would replenish what I'd stolen.

"It's amazing," Slade's friend said. "The rush."

"I know." Slade gave him a fist bump. "Just in time for tomorrow."

Trey was watching them, his expression dark. "What's tomorrow?" I whispered to him.

He eyed them contemptuously for a few more moments before turning back to me. "Do you live under a rock? It's our first home game."

"Of course," I said. My high school experience wouldn't be complete without the quintessential football hype.

"A lot of good it'll do me," he muttered.

"Your bandages are off," I pointed out.

"Yeah, but Coach is still making me take it easy. Plus, I'm kind of deadweight now." He nodded toward Slade and his friend. "How come they don't get in trouble for those? They're not making any effort to hide them. This school has no discipline anymore. We're practically in anarchy."

I smiled. "Practically."

"Your brother should be on the team, you know. I've seen him in PE. He could be a star athlete if he bothered trying out for anything."

"He doesn't like drawing attention to himself," I explained. "But he'll probably go watch the game."

"Are you going to go to the game?"

"Probably not."

Trey arched an eyebrow. "Hot date?"

"No! But I'm just... well, not into watching sports. And I feel like I should stay with Jill."

"You won't even go to cheer me on?"

"You don't need my cheers."

Trey gave me a disappointed look as a response. "Maybe it's just as well," he said. "Since you really wouldn't get to see me performing to my full level of awesomeness."

"That is a shame," I agreed.

"Oh, stop with the sarcasm already." He sighed. "My dad's going to be the most upset. There are family expectations."

Well, that was something I could relate to. "Is he a football player too?"

"Nah, it's less about football itself than keeping yourself in peak physical shape. Excelling. Ready to be called upon in a moment's notice. Being the best on the team's been a way to keep him proud - until these tattoos started."

"You're good without any tattoo help. He should still be proud," I said.

"You don't know my father."

"No, but I think I know someone just like him." I smiled. "You know, maybe I do need to go to a football game after all."

Trey simply smiled back, and class started.

The day passed calmly, but Jill ran up to me as soon as I entered the locker room for PE.

"I heard from Lia! She asked if I could come by tonight. She's had regular practices with the other models but thought I could use a special session of my own since I don't have any experience. Of course, the thing is, I... you know, need a ride. Do you think... I mean, could you..."

"Sure," I said. "It's what I'm here for."

"Thank you, Sydney!" She threw her arms around me, much to my astonishment. "I know you don't have any reason to help me after everything I've done, but - "

"It's fine, it's fine," I said, awkwardly patting her on the shoulder. I took a steadying breath. Think of it as Jill hugging me. Not as a vampire hugging me. "I'm glad to help."

"Would you two like to be alone?" sneered Laurel, striding in with her entourage. "I always knew there was something weird about your family."

Jill and I split apart, and she blushed, which only made them laugh more. "God, I hate them," she said when they were out of earshot. "I really want to get them back."

"Patience," I murmured. "They'll get what's coming to them someday." Eyeing Laurel's locker, I thought that "someday" might come sooner rather than later.

Jill shook her head in amazement. "I don't