I bristle. “There is nothingbetween us, Seven. There hasn’t been for a long time.”
He just keeps staring out across the city.
“Tell me what you remember about that night. Hit me with it.”
“You know what happened. We talked about this on the beach.”
“I want to hear it again, from your perspective.”
“My perspective?” I stiffen. What the hell is his game? But then something inside me decides it might be fun to lash out. He’s asking, and I have a lot of rage to air. “Fine. Here’s what happened. I arrived at the staging point exactly on time. My dress was the same color plum as this one. You probably didn’t know that considering you never saw it. It was strapless and full, and my mother had rented a tiara. I looked and felt like a princess. But the only thing that really mattered to me was the red ribbon tied around my wrist. As excited as I was for the ball, I was more excited about you. We’d dated in secret for two years and had been friends since first grade. That night we were going to make everything public.”
“We were going to do more than that,” he mutters.
“I thought I was telling this story.”
He tips his head. “Please.”
“None of my friends believed I was actually dating you. A pixie dating a leprechaun was unheard of in Devashire. Dating a Delaney was impossible. But I was sure you loved me. We’d spent so much time together. For fuck’s sake, we’d made a pact to lose our virginity to each other.”
I study his reaction as he shifts uncomfortably and takes another drink. When he doesn’t turn from the window, I continue. It’s easier, talking to his back.
“The sleigh was blood red, and a thick blanket of gray fur was draped across the seat. My shoulders were cold, and I wanted to wrap that blanket around me. But since you were late, Mrs. Harper—do you remember Mrs. Harper?—told me I’d have to sit in the driver’s seat and hold the reins because it was too late to get out of line by the time I admitted to myself you weren’t coming. So I lifted my massive skirt and somehow situated myself on the bench to drive the sleigh. That put me up high enough that all the other couples could easily see me. Giggles and whispers exploded around me. Everyone knew you’d set me up.”
He closes his eyes and gives his head a shake. His voice is gritty as he says, “Go on.”
“I didn’t believe them of course. I thought you loved me.” I curse my voice for cracking. “You’d never do that to me, I told myself. But youhaddone it to me, and for the entire journey through the Winter Wood, every fairy we knew, and plenty of humans we didn’t, pointed and laughed. Why was that girl driving her own sleigh? Who was that? Was she going to the ballalone? Was that even allowed? I heard it all, Seven. Can you imagine the humiliation? No, I don’t suppose you can. How can I paint you a picture? Every word was a paper cut, and by the time I reached the square, I was hemorrhaging.”
“Sophia…”
“Not done.” My voice is stronger now, my emotions tilting toward anger. I cough into my hand but force down the prickly emotion that threatens to come up. “As soon as we were given the okay to leave our sleighs, I attempted to disembark, but with no one there to help me down, I tripped. I landed face-first in the snow.”
Seven makes a sound deep in his throat and takes another drink. I’m glad he’s still not looking at me because a stupid, fucking tear has squeezed out of the corner of my eye. I wipe it away quickly and continue. I need to get this out. It’s cathartic.
“So I’m on the ground, my heels hopelessly tangled in my skirt, tears streaming down my face, and suddenlyyour fatherappears in front of me. I think he’s going to help me up and explain what’s happened to you. I mean, I was over at your house a lot as a kid. He’d known me since I was six. But he doesn’t reach out his hand. Instead, he looks down his nose at me and says, ‘Pity it came to this, but Seven did you a favor tonight. Now you know your place. You’d do well to remember it.’”
I cough harder into my hand, feeling that seed of resentment and mortification climb my esophagus. I swallow it down again.
“Then what?” Seven asks.
“Then he walked away, leaving me inside a ring of staring, pointing, whispering people,” I say incredulously. “I couldn’t get my feet under me. Not until River appeared, unhooked my skirt from my heel, and helped me stand. He walked me to his truck, where he used his hunting knife to cut that fucking ribbon from my wrist. And then he drove me home.”
Seven winces. Gods, he looks like he might be sick. He walks to the bar and pours himself another. “But you didn’t stay home, did you?”
“No.”
“And then there was Arden, and you were gone.”
“Yes.”
“A matter of weeks.”
“I left at the end of winter break. I’d done a fabulous job avoiding people until then. I couldn’t face going back to school, given the circumstances.”
He turns to me. Only then do I see that his eyes are rimmed red and the look he gives me is dark, murderous. It’s so unsettling I have to take a step back.
“Have you ever wondered where I was when this was going on?”
I jolt. “Of course I have! But based on your father’s comments, I had a pretty good idea you were home, having a good laugh at my expense.” I scratch my jaw.
