Page 120 of Another Day (Every Day 2)

“Yes, that.”

We hang there, waiting for the kiss to leave the room, to float off into the night.

I have no idea what I want.

No. Not true. I know exactly what I want. I’m just not sure if I should want it.

“Dessert,” I say. “You need to try a lemon square.”

He smiles. It’s okay to let the kiss leave the room.

Already, I feel others knocking on the door.

—

I look at his lips. The powdered sugar on his lips.

I remind myself they’re not really his lips.

I’m not sure I care.

—

When we’re done, I gather up the dishes. I put everything on the trays, and then I push the trays aside. We’ve been sitting too far from each other. I want us so much closer.

I move right next to him. He puts his arm around me, and I take the pad of sticky notes out of my pocket, along with the pen. Without saying a word, I draw a heart on the top sticky note, then put it on Alexander’s heart.

“There,” I say to A.

He looks down at it. Then back up at me.

“I have to tell you something,” he says.

For a moment, I think this will be the I love you that’s even greater than the others. If he says it, I will respond.

But instead he says, “I have to tell you what’s been going on.”

Instead of leaning in to him, I move so I can see his eyes.

“What?” I ask. Irrationally, I wonder if he’s met someone else.

“Do you remember Nathan Daldry? The boy I was at Steve’s party?”

“Of course.”

“I left him on the side of the road that night. And when he woke up—he knew something was wrong. He suspected something wasn’t right. So he told a lot of people. And one of the people who found out—he calls himself Reverend Poole. But he’s not Reverend Poole. He’s someone in Reverend Poole’s body.”

“This is what you were talking about when you emailed and said you thought you weren’t the only one.”

A nods. “Yes. But that’s not all of it. Whoever’s inside Poole is like me, but not entirely like me. He says he can control it. He says there’s a way to stay in a person’s body.”

I try to wrap my mind around what he’s saying. “Who told you this? Did you email him? How do you know he’s real?”

“I saw him. I met him. He used Nathan to set a trap, and he almost got me. He says we’re the same, but we’re not the same. I don’t know how to explain it—I don’t think he uses the same rules as

I do. I don’t think he cares about the people he inhabits. I don’t think he respects what we are.”

“But you believe him? When he says you can stay?”