I’m going to kill him. He’s a dead man.
My gash is healing. We both gawk at my skin as it seals, turning a shiny, puckering pink. Within seconds, even the scar is gone.
I’m going to kiss him.
“Morgan, you genius.”
He drips potion across his unblemished skin. “I knew it! Remember after we made this, I got some of it on my arm? It healed my scratch. I suspect it gave me a mood boost as well, because I feltamazingafterward. Must contain enzymes that speed up the recovery process! Extraordinary. We could sell it. We’ll call it Morgan’s Miracle Cure.”
I pinch him.
“Morganand Zelda’sMiracle Cure, then. Actually no, that’s too wordy. We’ll call itTempoulos. That’s what you get when you mixTempestandAngelopoulos.”
“When you mixTempestandAngelopoulos, you get disaster. You’ve just sprayed us with an untested, non-FDA-approved potion.”
Morgan slants me a haughty look. “There’s a first for everything. Somebody, somewhere, in the halls of history, fried a pig for the first time and discovered bacon.”
“It’s late. You’re unhinged. Let’s not speak again until tomorrow at the earliest.”
Morgan appraises his side of the tent with a pathetic air. I’ve doused his spot with water.
I sigh.
“I can’t make you lie in that. Here, I’ll scoot over. There’s enough room in my sleeping bag for both of us.”
“Ah.” His mouth curves. “I see we’ve reached the next phase of your seduction plan.”
“Never mind. Sleep in water.”
“It’s all right, I’m not complaining.” He snuggles in beside me, his voice dropping to a devilish, decadent pitch. He brings the pillow with him, and I steal three quarters of it as revenge. “I’m a willing participant.”
My whole body sharpens. “Watch it.”
“I’m watching as much as I can, trust me.”
I roll aggressively onto my other side, facing away from him. “I hate you. At first light—ugh,in the morning, you’re going home. I’ve had enough of your teasing and your stupid hair.”
“You like my hair? Is that what you’re trying to say?” His Cheshire grin is so corrupt, I can practically feel it through my clothes. “Every time you go quiet from now on, I’ll be wondering if you’re thinking about feeling me up.”
I squeeze my eyes closed. “Merghh.”
He raises his head off the pillow a fraction, murmuring in my ear: “And how much you want me to get even, I bet.”
The words sink into either side of my hips, warm and pressurized as a pair of hands. I’ve never wanted to be touched this badly before.
I banish these thoughts to the void, where a hologram of myself stands at a chalkboard and writesI will not sintwo hundred times.
Inviting him to come along on this trip was an appalling mistake. I recall what Luna said:I know Morgan will be there, too, but he’s useless.Luna was right.
“All you do is flirt,” I say, my voice guttural. “You are just one big, flirty lie.”
“Flirt back,” he urges. “It’ll be fun.”
“Never. You can use your looks to get whatever you want from other people, but I’ll never give in.”
He laughs against my neck, or at least it feels that way. My toes curl. “You think my looks are that powerful? I’d be flattered if I weren’t so devastated right now by your low opinion of me.”
“My opinion of you isn’t low. But you’re teasing, and that’s unkind.”
