Novels by Pearl Whitney

ELI..“Who are you?” The man glared at us.The words barely had time to settle down when I grabbed Zane’s hand.“Run.”For a split second, he didn’t move, then his fingers tightened around mine.We bolted down the hallway, our shoes striking the floor.The security man’s footsteps thundered behind us.We reached the end of the hallway, “Left or right?” I asked.“I don’t know,” Zane said, voice tight. “I’ve never been to the side of the hall.”“Left it is.” We made the turn. Wrong or right turn—I didn’t care. I just kept running.We couldn’t get caught, or else Zane might get in trouble.A staff member carrying a tray of drinks, stepped into our path. I nearly crashed into him, swerving at the last minute.“Sorry,” I said, without stopping.Zane said nothing, just blowing past the staff. The security drew closer, following us as we pushed through another corridor, then another, until we arrived at the back exit.We burst through the doors, flying down the steps. The cool air hit m

ELI..The museum stood, white and sharp, against the dark sky. Immediately I stepped out, and my eye fell on Zane.He was clad in all black outfits, the turtle neck, tucked behind an overcoat. An expensive watch glinted around his wrist.Although I was the same thing—all thanks to his stylist he sent over—it felt better on him than on me.He gave the outfit an exotic look.When Zane finally noticed me, he paused. His eyes worked their way from my head to my toes and then back to my eyes.“You look good,” he said.“Thank you,” I said, voice low and a little bit hesitant.Zane gestured for us to go in.The moment I stepped into the museum, it felt like I had been teleported to another world.The ceilings soared high above us, chandeliers hanging low like frozen falling stars. Their golden light spilled over the place, the artworks hanging on the white walls.I glanced around in total awe. While Zane was unfazed, it was obvious he was used to this.“Pay attention to anything that catch

ELI..For the past week, I’d been trying to get to know Zane.At the arcade, I learnt he liked ….games. I also learned he didn’t like ice cream but loved milkshakes, which made no sense since he usually bought milkshakes made with ice cream. When I said that, he told me ice cream was too cold, and something about how scooping was unnecessary when you could sip it.I called it Laziness.Zane smiled and called it efficiency.Another day, we decided to watch a movie. I had let him pick just like I let John. Zane fell asleep halfway through.He’d apologized and said we should try again—the motherfucker slept through it all. That’s when I learned Zane didn’t go to the cinema to watch movies, but to sleep.By the time I was in the shared locker room, it didn’t feel strange to look for him anymore.It felt automatic. The locker room was loud the moment they stepped in, hockey sticks hitting the locker, their laughter loud.One of my teammates threw a jab at them; they looked like oversi

ELI..My eyes lingered on his eyes.“What happened to your eyes? The question slipped out. Too fast. Too blunt. And most of all stupid.Zane stilled beneath me, and something hot tangled in my chest.I gulped. “I…so…I didn’t mean…” I tried to take back the question, but I knew I couldn’t. “Never mind.”I tried to get him off. Halfway up, my blade scraped wrongly against the ice. I lost balance, and the rink tilted.Zane thrust up and caught me. But his balance was already compromised.Both of us tumbled and went down again. His back hit the ice and landed on him.Zane winced.“I’m sorry,” I muttered, trying to get back on my feet again.I planted my foot on the floor, pushing myself off. But I wobbled again. Zane was already halfway up, more balanced than I was, when I reached for his jacket, trying to steady myself. Instead, I dragged both of us down. My body once pressed against his, our gaze locking, his chest heaving beneath mine. Instead of getting up this time, I rolled o

ELI..“You brought me here?”I glanced around, taking in the ice that stretched long and wide beneath the white light, the two girls drifting in a circle.It was a public rink located very far from our campus.“To skate?” I turned to him. Zane glanced at me. “This is what I do with my friends.” I resisted the urge to smack my forehead. I couldn’t really blame him. I was the one who asked what he and his friends did.This was apparently the answer.“I’ll teach you,” he said, “come on let’s get the skates.”The counter sat just off to the side, beside the snack counter. Zane handled everything, buying new pairs of skates, jackets, head warmers, and socks.By the time we got back to the bench, the rink was empty. The two girls had left.“Does no one come here?” I asked.Zane settled beside me, lacing his skates. “It’s busier on weekends.”“Right.”I should’ve thought of that.I leaned forward, fingers working as I laced my skates. Zane rose and then his gaze fell to my skates. “That

ELI..I finally spotted Zane, buried deep in the library.He sat on the tall stool tucked beneath a high table bolted to the wall, one foot hooked on the metal rung, the other stretched out.His gaze lifted and landed on me like he had sensed me.I settled in the seat across from him, my feet barely brushing the floor.“Why did you pick this spot of all places?”Zane glanced around. “It’s quiet.”I followed his gaze. Truly, the place was cut off by the tall shelves.Exactly, it was quiet. Anyone could hear me moan, even I whispered. Closing my eyes, I sighed. “But here isn’t the best place.”Zane straightened his back. “This side is deeper inside; the AC here is colder,” he said. “I don’t know why people don’t come here to read.”I blinked, head jerking back. “Read? I’m here to read?”“Why else would you be here?” Zane cocked his head slightly. “And exams are around the corner.”My brain stalled, and for a solid two seconds I said nothing.“Yeah. To read. "I'm here to read,” I mu