The Lingering Grace by Jessica Arnold Page A

look up as Eva sat down next to her. Leaning back against her pillows, Eva crossed her legs and smiled. Alice grinned back a little warily; she wasn’t sure why Eva had freaked out over the closed door, but she suspected it was the same reason she had panicked when she realized Eva was sitting alone and unsupervised in her own room. There was something there she didn’t want Alice to find.
    Alice’s eyes darted over the stacked boxes, the sparse furniture. If Eva did have something important in here, she probably would have already unpacked it. Which meant that, since there was almost nothing unpacked in the first place, the things she valued most would be exposed or thinly hidden.
    No wonder Eva was nervous.
    “So,” Alice pressed, getting right to the point. “Can I see the magic book you found?”
    Eva’s smile didn’t fade, but it stiffened.
    “Of course,” she said. “But let’s eat first. I’m starving. Cheese stick?”
    Alice took the proffered cheese with a sinking heart. Eva wasn’t meeting her eyes; neither one of them spoke for a minute. As Eva peeled the plastic wrapper away, Alice saw that her hand was shaking. It was nearly imperceptible—just a tremor—but Eva must have noticed it too because she quickly pulled that hand into her lap.
    For a few seconds, Alice debated whether or not she should say something. But then she remembered what her cousin had told her shortly after her aunt died. He’d marched up to her at the funeral, grabbed her by the hand, and demanded, “ Why? Why does everyone pretend everything’s okay? It’s not effing okay.”
    Alice reached out and put a hand on Eva’s knee.
    “Hey, it’s fine if you’re not okay.”
    Eva did not answer immediately; she was staring at her cheese stick like it was the only thing in the world. Her eyes were a little bloodshot. She blinked a few times.
    When she lifted her head a few seconds later, her face was oddly blank, her eyes dry.
    “I’m fine. It’s okay.”
    Alice looked at the hand that Eva had tried to hide and noticed how tightly she was clasping her pant leg. It wasn’t okay.
    “Well,” Alice said, uncertain what to do. She thought Eva would appreciate having someone to talk to, but she seemed even more closed off than before. “Okay,” Alice said at last.
    “Are you okay?” asked Eva, though her voice lacked any hint of concern.
    “Sure,” Alice said. But she was lying too.

 
     
    If Alice thought she would become more relaxed as the evening wore on, she was wrong. She and Eva sat on the bed for an hour and a half, eating chips and talking about school. It was the sort of things that friends did, and by all logic, it should have put Alice at ease. The tension between them faded to a distant hum but didn’t disappear entirely. Eva was putting off discussing the more important things, and the longer Alice waited to bring up magic, the more nervous she became.
    By the time the clock on Eva’s dresser read eight o’clock, Alice’s head was pounding.
    As Eva sipped a glass of water, Alice looked down at her clasped hands and wondered again whether this whole thing had been a mistake. She had totally abandoned Tony, and he didn’t deserve to be treated that way. Why chase so hard after Eva’s friendship when she already had Tony? As they said, a bird in the hand is worth two in the bush.
    Eva was staring at her intently.
    “I’m sorry?” she said, realizing that Eva had just asked her a question.
    “I said, have you ever done a trust fall?” There was a dangerous twinkle in Eva’s eye, but her smile was warmer than it had been all night. Alice shifted her weight; her legs were falling asleep.
    “Of course I have. Why?”
    Eva leaned forward, pushing the empty bag of chips to the side.
    “If I’m going to teach you, show you everything I know—”
    Alice’s heart leaped.
    “—then I need to know that I can trust you. And that you’ll trust me. When you do magic with two people, it isn’t just about