Three, four, five of his basketball friends angle their towering bodies toward us, probably wondering what the interruption is about.

Sweat gathers at the nape of my neck, and electricity hums along my skin. The Voice is about to zap me again. I just know it.

“Running out of time,” the Voice pipes up, as if on cue. “Tell him.”

Say the words and be done with it. Say the words. Say. The. Words.

“I love you,” I blurt. “That is all. Goodbye.”

I wheel around, ready to sprint, when a hand snags my arm. His hand.

“Wait a minute,” Bandit says, his eyes 2 percent less bored. “Are we in third grade? Do you want to give me a note asking if I love you back, so I can circle yes or no?”

My cheeks burn hotter than the sun assaulting my skin. Hotter, even, than the flames that got me into this mess.

I could really use that alien abduction right about now.

The object of my supposed affection smirks. “We can skip the note. Can’t say I blame you for falling for me. I mean, I’m a lovable guy. But have we actually met?” He lowers his voice. “Outside of your wildest dreams, that is.”

I gape. Is he kidding me right now? How does a person live with this much arrogance?

An earsplitting whistle slices through the air, returning me to my senses. I jerk back, away from Bandit. Away from my disgrace. Without looking at him, I crash through the crowd. There couldn’t have been more than half of these students here before. Where did they come from? The seams in the concrete?

Worse, they’re all smirking and laughing. At me.

Nobody else was supposed to have heard. I was willing to embarrass myself, but only in front of a guy who couldn’t care less what I say to him.

The double doors of the school swing shut behind me, taking with them the excited laughs, the wild chatter, the indistinct whir of speculation.

“Don’t tell anybody about me, Malice,” the Voice warns.

Malice? Did the voice just call me Malice? That can’t be right. The evilest thing Alice Sherman has done all year is make sure her brother’s fed.

“And whatever you do, don’t fall for that boy,” she says. “It’ll only make what you have to do later harder.”

My mouth drops open. What will I have to do later? As in, this voice thing is going to happen again? More to the point… “Of course I’m not going to fall for him,” I snap. “He’s the most obnoxious person I’ve ever met.”

But the Voice doesn’t respond. Instead, there’s a popping sound in my head, like a shoe escaping the mud, and the space inside my brain is still and quiet.

As though she was never here at all.

Maybe…she wasn’t.

Chapter 2