After a few seconds—making sure she’s done speaking—I reassure her. “Of course that’s okay, darling. I’m glad you shared that with me.”
“I just don’t want to, like, scare you off, or something.” The waver has returned to her voice.
I stroke her hair with a tiny bit more pressure. “You could never scare me off, Pinky. Don’t you know that by now?”
She lets out a light laugh. “You’re right—I don’t think I could shake you if I tried.”
“Don’t try, please. I don’t want to be shaken,” I joke, watching her as she watches the sky.
Her cheeks go round as a smile takes over her lips. “And I don’t want to shake you, Bluey?”
“Bluey?” I repeat, taken aback.
What is this sudden nickname? She’s never called me that before—not to my face, at least. I don’t overly like it…
She turns her head, narrowing her eyes at me with that smile still plastered. “You call me Pinky, so I figured I’d give Bluey a try.”
I blink at her, hesitantly asking, “And?”
She winks at me before turning her head straight up again. “I don’t think it suits you.”
Thank the Gods.
Just as I’m about to open my mouth and agree with her, her eyes light up.
“Look!” she exclaims, pointing a finger up. “A shooting star.”
Turning my head, I watch as the streak of light paints the sky, disappearing of its own will. For as long as I can remember, people have wished upon shooting stars, though unlike genies, they don’t have actual magical properties.
“Are you going to make a wish?” I ask, turning my head to watch her reaction.
She has a small smile on her face, and she shakes her head before turning it to look at me. “No, I don’t wish on stars—or genies.”
Gods, she’s perfect.
“And how wonderful that is, darling.”
Chapter Eleven
RAYA
As I roll over in bed, everything feels heavy. My mind, my body, my soul. Just…everything. It’s like I feel all the emotions at once, but also none.
It’s exhausting.
Just a few days ago, it was like I was riding a high—I wasliterallyhigh on life. Everything is going well, I’m enjoying all the things I normally do, and then bam.
The cloud returns to my brain. The storm that wasn’t in the forecast—and it’s not showing any signs of stopping.
I’ve sent a few texts to Arman—he’s proven to me that he’s sweet as can be, and actuallydoeswant to get to know me.
I think he genuinely cares, so I don’t want to ignore him randomly—he doesn’t deserve that. Thankfully, he seems content with my sporadic messages of the past few days.
He hasn’t been too pushy, but has still checked in, asking if I’m okay or need anything. I tell him no each time, but it’s nice that he offers.
Orie has offered too, the difference being I did let her bring me some soup. She uses her shadow-traveling powers to go all the way to, like, France, or something, and brings me back soup.
She’s the best friend, I don’t know how I got so lucky.
