“I’d say sooo,” said Lion, sounding way too wise for her years. “I saw her leave Gray’s window like you used to do it. Today. The other day.A lot.” Something about the way a five-year-old saysa lotreally makes it sound like a million, impossible to come back from. “I like how he has a girlfriend with pink hair. Do you think I could change my hair to pink?”
My chest cracked — like it hadn’t already done this — as if it hadn’t already broken, made peace with it, and moved on. It cracked as hard as it did the last time, and all the times before, like itwantedmy heart to be wide open and ready for the firing squad.
“Yeah, I do,” I said, not meaning to whisper. “I think you with pink hair would look great.” I turned to face my house. “I have to get some water. I’ll see you later, Lion.” I didn’t bother saying goodbye to Gray.
* * *
Dad cheered, “All right!” when I walked through the door, the footrest of his recliner snapping closed. He always waited for me to get back from my run before starting breakfast, which we always ate together in the kitchen. But today I wasn’t in the mood.
I pressed a glass tumbler to the water spout on the fridge, my throat raw with the feeling of being on the verge of crying, though I knew I wouldn’t. I never did. No matter how sad I was, my eyes refused to water.
Dad studied me for a long second, his energy wilting. “You’re not taking that up to your room, are you?”
I nodded. “I’m just not that hungry today.”
“Well.” His expressive features drooped to his chin. “Sounds like I’ll have less dishes to do.”
Briefly, I checked my phone. No new messages had come through. I hadn’t really thought they would. And if Gray did text, he still had a girlfriend, so it wasn’t like there was something he could say to make me feel better. Still, I knew I wouldn’t be able to resist checking my phone for the rest of the day, just in case he remembered he liked me.
My heart jumped as my phone flared with light, crashing an instant later as I realized it wasn’t from a notification but because my clumsy fingers had bumped the phone out of sleep mode.Thatrollercoaster of emotion for nothing made me rethink how badly I wanted to be alone in my room. Maybe I didwant to stay and have breakfast.
I set my water down in front of my place at the table. “Dad?”My voice cracked. “Would it be okay if we had mimosas with breakfast?”
* * *
The next day, I spent in bed with a combination hangover, drowsiness, and phantom flu. The day after, I still couldn’t summon the energy to do anything productive. I stayed in bed, waiting to be bored back to unconsciousness, the one place I didn’t have to feel red-hot and embarrassed every time I remembered it was just after the Fourth of July, and while everyone else was going to the beach and shooting off fireworks, I was utterly alone, practically refreshing my phone until it was dead, waiting for Gray to break up with his girlfriend.
I was staring out my window with a pillow hugged to my chest when my phone finally decided to vibrate. I reached for it hungrily. I couldn’t help myself.
Gray Fallsdown:Wanna come over?
That . . . wasn’t what I was expecting from him. An apology, an explanation, a life update, anI’m sorry it’s not you this time. You know I always wanted it to be.
I set the phone down, thinking maybe his pink-haired girlfriend was named Emma or Emily, and he’d accidentally sent the message to me. Then the light in his room switched on and off rapidly, our old signal. I went to stand in front of my window and found him at his, grinning and waving at me.
I hated myself for my inability to stop liking him, but I knew no other athletes who read Shakespeare voraciously. No other pre-med students with a rapt attention for art history. And Gray was pure joy, his bright, white smile melting the ice around me, one of those people whose presence made your day feel complete.
I went downstairs to where Dad was asleep, snoring deeply. I didn’t want to wake him, but I never left home without tellinghim where I was going anymore.
“Dad?” I rested my hands lightly on the back of his chair until his snoring broke. His eyes opened slowly, blinking awake. “I’m gonna go to Gray’s.”
Blearily, he eyed the digital clock on the kitchen stove behind me, the time written in neon green. “At eleven o’clock at night?”
“Oh.” I shrugged. “Well, yeah. He kinda just texted me. Do you not want me to go?”
“You can go,” he sighed. “I don’t think he’s that good to you. But yes, you can go.”
I made sure to open and close the front door quietly, locking it behind me. It hadn’t yet hit me that tomorrow was the day the witches were supposed to get me. I’d spent my last two days in the human realm alone in my room, and my last night, I was spending with Gray.
CHAPTER
THREE
EMBER
There is no coven a good Enchantress can’t join.
— Velleza Luna, Echelon to the
