Before (The Sensitives) - By Dawn Rae Miller Page 0,30

thumb and index finger in front of my eye and pretend to squash her. A laugh tumbles out of me. Not that I want to actually hurt Kyra—it’s just a little thing Beck and I found amusing as children.

“Heya.”

I jump at Beck’s voice.

“What are you doing out here?” I ask. Student brush past us, too intent on fleeing the cold to pay us any attention.

“Mr. Trevern needed to see me about something. He pulled me out of Calc.” Beck jerks his head toward the main building. “I’m heading back inside. You going to the greenhouse?”

A gust of wind blows up and over the hillside, sending snow whirling around us. Beck’s red scarf flutters against his shoulder.

“Of course.”

He takes my hand in his. “Would you consider skipping and holing up with me in an empty classroom for the rest of the day? To study,” he adds quickly. “For the make-up assessment.”

I stretch and push on his nose with my fingertip. His blond waves peek out from beneath his knitted hat and his cheeks look like some old caregiver has pinched them.

“No. We need to set an example and that includes going to class.” He scowls. “Besides, after the security breach yesterday, I think everyone would notice if you or I went missing. But I’ll see you at lunch.”

Quickly, before I can register what’s happening, Beck pulls me to him and brushes his lips softly against mine.

I tense up. After what happened with Ryker and Kyra, we can’t do this.

“Beck—”

He places his finger over my lips. “I’ve wanted to do that forever.”

And then he’s gone, running through the snow, away from me.

Snow beats at me as I stand dazed. Granted, it wasn’t a passionate kiss, but he’s never kissed my lips before. Heat tingles inside of me and I hold my gloved hand against my thick jacket, just over my racing heart.

As soon as I gather my senses, I look around to see if anyone saw. In the distance, two guards patrol near the barricade, but they’re too far away.

A slow smile spread across my face. I should be upset—Beck broke a rule and risked getting us both in trouble.

But I’m not. He did what I’ve wanted to do for so long.

I skip across the last few yards of the vast lawn. The lashing snow is not at all like the soft, dancing flakes yesterday.

A chill runs through me. Even though up until two minutes ago today had been the most uneventful day of my life, I’m still not convinced the school is one-hundred percent safe. Best to not be outside by myself.

I reach the edge of the greenhouses and quickly step down the icy path to number thirty-four. Around me, the howling wind sounds like a song of lament.

I shiver and heft open the door to the greenhouse. Kyra leans against the wall, the brunette curls of her ponytail weighed down by humidity. She snaps her fingers impatiently as I remove my outerwear and hang it on a hook.

“Heya, Kyra.” Excitement bubbles in my voice.

“What have you done with Lark?” Kyra places her hands on her hips playfully. “You can’t possibly be her because you almost sound happy.”

I grin. “I just saw Beck.” A dramatic pause. “And he kissed me,” I whisper.

Her mouth drops open. “He didn’t! Lark, you have to tell me everything. Start at the beginning.”

It’s odd, the way she says it. Like she’s interested but also concerned. Like Beck kissing me isn’t a good thing when all she’s been doing is egging me on for the past two days.

“It was nothing.” I blush, recalling the warmth of his mouth. “He just brushed his lips against mine.”

A huge exhale tumbles out of her. “That’s it?”

I nod.

She touches my arm and little pricks run down it. “Don’t tell anyone.”

I stare at her. “I thought it didn’t matter what Beck and I did?”

She draws her eyebrows together. “After this morning, I’m not so sure any more.”

“That’s funny, you seemed fairly confident we’d never get in trouble. We’re special, remember?”

She chews on her lip. “Maybe I was wrong.”

Apparently Ryker being removed from the house has resonated with Kyra. Finally. Something.

Without waiting for a response, she walks to her seat.

I cross the long hall to my station and toss my bag under the worktable. I grab my apron, tie it on and start collecting supplies from the storage closet. Humidity clings to me. Even though I hate the heat of summer, I love being in the greenhouse. Probably because when I’ve had enough,