Gravity, a young adult paranormal romance by Abigail Boyd

with those people," I said.  
    "I'm friends with lots of different
people. You and I, for example, I would consider friends," he
said.
    This made me stop again. We had barely
spoken a few words to one another, and now we were
friends?
    "You know that power structure you
mentioned? It sort of means we shouldn't even be talking," I said.
It was hard to glare at someone so cheerful and attractive, but I
managed it anyway.
    His phone rang, and he yanked it out
of his pocket, sighing with exasperation.  
    "I have to take this," he said,
looking at the screen. "But I want to keep talking later,
okay?"
    He held my gaze for a moment longer,
then flipped his phone open and distanced himself from me as he
headed for the exit.
    "Hold on a second," he told the person
on the other end. He turned back around, walking backwards, and
said, "Promise me."
    "Fine," I said through gritted teeth.
"I promise." He nodded his head at me, and then he was
gone.
    I unclenched the fists I didn't know I
was making. Well, that was that, whatever it was. His bizarre
insistence that we chat had confused me. Thankfully, I had two
whole days away from school to look forward to. No more politics or
drama for forty-eight hours.
    I don't know if I've ever appreciated
a weekend more. I tried to pretend like school was a bad dream, and
I was awake now that I was in my own house. The days were rainy,
and I refused to get out of my pajamas or brush my hair.
    On Sunday, Claire stayed in her home
office, busy with a proposal for work. She worked for a life
insurance company, approving or denying people coverage while she
wasn't in meetings. It seemed like an incredibly stressful job, but
it paid well, and besides, Claire seemed to thrive under stress.
Without deadlines and last-minute fixes, I think she would have
felt unimportant.
    I could tell she didn't want to be
disturbed because the door was shut. Lame, considering I wanted to
use the computer. But probably best to keep me away from checking
Jenna's page again.
    Because of the nonstop rain, by noon
it was as dark as evening. The walls in the living room had
swirling forest green wallpaper Claire had installed last year,
which only contributed to the lack of light. I walked around the
house, flicking on lamps to try to brighten up the place. I found
persistent rain comforting, as if it insulated me from the outside
world.
    "I have an adventure for us," Hugh
said, coming out of the kitchen with a box of garbage bags in his
hand.
    "Are we burying our enemies?" I
asked.
    "Ha, you are just so funny." He
chucked the box at me and I caught it with both hands. "We're
finally going to conquer the storage room." 
    Claire had been relentlessly bugging
Hugh for months, ever since our May yard sale, to clean out the
room full of junk across from my bedroom. Claire's plan was to
donate most of the stained stuffed animals and ill-advised fad
footwear to the local thrift store, and turn the room into her own
personal exercise haven. A little pile of weights and a yoga mat
waited in the corner of the main basement room, for the day when
the treadmill would finally be uncovered.
    Hugh grabbed a stack of broken down
moving boxes he had brought in from the shed. With me in front, we
headed down the basement stairs. I flipped on the light switch in
the storage room. There was hardly any room for us to stand inside,
but we managed to squeeze in.
    My grandparents, Claire's parents,
died in a car crash two years ago. When that happened, much of
their belongings came to us. Corinne had picked through what she
wanted, and then left it to my mom to dispose of the rest. Claire
had a hard time parting with much of it, and there was a lot to
part with. My grandparents had been wealthy, and Grandma Eleanor
collected antiques on the verge of hoarding.
    Much of it had ended up going to
auction. But a third of the delicate china and lacey linens sat
here, collecting dust. I knew part of the reason Claire wanted us
to take care of it was so