“What is . . . ?” I asked cautiously, doubting I wanted the answer. “What is this evening?”
“Very funny!” Belinda slapped the table, her mouth agape with laughter. “You know it’s Rayne’s birthday party at the tavern! That’s why I was telling you about my outfit.” Her shoulders shimmied. “Sequins!”
I struggled to swallow my bite, the rough toasted bread scratching all the way down. “I’m sorry,” I said, defeated. “I can’t go to that. Today was — I can’t go to a party. I have a huge brand on my forehead.”
Belinda looked surprised to hear that.
“Belinda,” I sighed. “I won’t be offended if you look at it. I know it’s ugly. It’s fine, but I don’t want to go to a party with it.”
Skye set her transmitter down and mine buzzed the next second. I shot her a look.
Skye Ambrosia:She’s been blabbering on for an hour about how much you hate her. I can’t do this again tomorrow. You are going to this party.
Ember Blackburn:What? Why would I hate her?
Skye Ambrosia:Well, you ignore her at every opportunity.
Ember Blackburn:I do?
I met Skye’s eyes to see if she was serious, and it seemed shewas. But Ididn’tignore Belinda — at least, not intentionally. I let her be. I let all of them be. I didn’t want to complicate their fourth-year hierarchy or their fifth-year candidacy with my half-witch existence. I stayed away so no one felt compelled to ask why my fists clenched around Leland or what was up with my swollen eye bags. I didn’t dislike any of them. I disliked being the burden who sucked the life out of a room.
Skye Ambrosia:Yes. The same way you ignore everyone, but Belinda is precious and not used to it.
“Are you guys messaging about me?” Belinda’s voice was leeched of all cheer, and like she couldn’t believe anyone could ever do such a thing. “Right in front of me?”
“No,” Skye lied.
I looked up from my transmitter with a guilty expression. “Yes,” I said, trying to convey with my face that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded. “Skye was convincing me to come to the party tonight. And I will. If you still want me to.”
Belinda, recovering quickly, propped her elbows on the table, her bright-brown eyes delighted. “Come to my room at six and I’ll do your hair!” She waved her hand over her forehead. “I think we can fix it with bangs.”
Vyra, exiting the cafeteria in a cloud of candied perfume, paused at the head of our table on her way out. “It’s going to take more thanbangs.” Her mouth pinched in repulsion. “You’ll obviously need to do her makeup.”
“Yes, absolutely! Fun fact — I just got this new palette that is the most perfect, beautiful shimmeryness for golden undertones.”
I struggled to swallow the rest of my sandwich. Hair. Makeup. Party. I didn’t want it. But it wasn’t Belinda’s fault I was this way, and I didn’t want to hurt her feelings again, so I was going tohave to go along with it.
* * *
After lunch, without a single straight answer from Skye, I went to our room for quiet, closed the curtains to my bed, and replayed the events of last night. Sort of. After the memory of Leland Healing me, my mind took a turn and imagined him following me back to bed. Except it wasn’t Leland. It was Gray. And just the thought of him here in my bed made my blood rush as intensely as it used to when I’d crawl through his window and climb into his bed. When it was real, when it was more than just a hodge-podge of memories of being kissed and held and taken care of.
Nova sat on my head.
I turned, flaring my nostrils and puffing out cat hairs, but she readjusted. She went where I went, suffocating my face with her butthole again.
“Skye?” I asked.
No answer. I knew she was in here.
“Skyeeee.” My groan was muffled by Nova’s small paws delicately stomping across my mouth. “Call your cat!”
Nova remained where she was.
“She’s blocking my airway!” I moved out from under Nova and jerked my head at my pillow, imploring her to go there instead. But Nova persisted in squatting her backside on my forehead. “Help me,” I said, and coughed to the side. “I’m asphyxiating.”
“Should we be this concerned about oxygen loss when your brain is already damaged?”
“Skye!”
