AFTER CLASS, I EXPECT TO walk back to the dormitory towers with Aric, but he says he has another runeball practice, so we part ways in the hallway. I turn to watch his large frame disappear amidst the wave of students flowing through the corridor, and when he vanishes around a corner, mist starts to fill my eyes.
Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.
As fast as my feet will carry me—without running—I hurry through the castle, out the doors into the cold winter air, and toward my favorite place on campus: the Whim. It’s so chilly out today, most students are scurryingtowardthe castle, not away from it. But I want to be somewhere quiet, somewhere I can sit and think and try to figure out what in the goddess is going on with me and Aric.
Assuming there stillisa me and Aric.
The thought brings more moisture to my eyes, and I quickly scrub it away with the back of my hand.
As soon as I arrive at the entrance to the Whim, I realize this was a terrible idea. Because the last time I was here was on Samhain, with Aric. Now my body is remembering the way he held my waist and laid me down on a bed of crinkly leaves, the way he wrapped his hands around my thighs and used his mouth to bring me to a pleasure I’ve only ever dreamed about.
Why can’t we just go back to that? Why did everything have to change after that night?
I’m still standing at the hedge maze’s entrance when there’s a crunching of frozen grass behind me. When I turn, I find Beckett there, looking up at me from his wheelchair, face etched with concern.
“Poppy, what’s wrong?” he asks, and only then do I realize that tears are dripping down my cheeks, leaving tracks of moisture that sting in the cold wind. “Are you crying?”
I tug my cloak tighter around myself and think about lying, trying to spin this in a positive way, but one look at Beckett tells me he’ll never believe a single lie that comes out of my mouth.
“It’s... It’s Aric,” I finally bring myself to say. “He doesn’t want to work with me anymore. It feels l-like everything’s changing.”
Beckett’s face softens, his shoulders rising and falling on a breath. “Come on,” he says, already turning his chair back toward the castle. “We’re getting you something to eat, and then we’re gonna talk.”
“It’s okay, you don’t have to—”
But Beckett starts rolling back toward the castle, ignoring my arguments. A cold blast of wind hits me, tossing my hair all around my moist cheeks, and I cast one more glance at the entrance to the Whim. Then I turn and follow Beckett back to the castle.
WE END UP IN THE astronomy tower—Beckett is an adept air warlock, and he’s easily able to hover his chair up and down the winding staircases. We pick a spot by oneof the expansive glass walls, and Beckett shoves a warm chocolate croissant into my hands.
“It’s dinnertime,” I tell him.
“Sometimes we need to eat dessert first,” he says, then takes a bite of his croissant. He lets out a sigh and kisses his fingertips. “Perfection. Now go on, eat. And tell me what Vandermere has done to mess this up so bad.”
While we eat, I tell Beckett everything: about Aric asking me to the ball, then our trip to Faunwood, all the way up to what he said in class today. He already knows about Aric missing that tutoring session, but this is the first time I’m telling him the rest of it. I keep what happened at the Golden Lantern and on Samhain to myself, but I get the feeling Beckett assumes as much, because he gets a little smirk but says nothing.
“And now he doesn’t want me to tutor him anymore,” I finish. “He didn’t even sound sad about it. More like... he was relieved. Like letting go of me was easy.” I’ve got one sliver of croissant left, and I pop it into my mouth, then lift my teary eyes to Beckett.
He tips his head at me, then casts his gaze out the glass wall beside us, where the sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of dark purple and dusky pink. Stars are slowly starting to twinkle to life in the sky, appearing earlier and earlier as our days get shorter.
“First,” he says, moving his gaze back to me, “guys are idiots. Me included.”
This gets me to smile, which I think was his intention.
“And because we’re idiots, you can’t always take what we say seriously. Or read into it. Sometimes there’s nothing toread into, and trying to figure it out will drive you crazy. But also, it seems like Aric’s under a lot of pressure right now, and though I don’t know him, he seems the type to try to be strong even when everything’s falling apart.”
I dab the croissant crumbs from my lips and give Beckett a small nod.
“So, maybe he needs space to figure some things out for himself. But that doesn’t mean anything’s wrong between you. That’s another thing guys are bad at: communicating clearly.”
“You seem to do a good job,” I say, giving him another small smile.
“Yeah, well, I’ve got three sisters, so I learned early on.” He reaches out to put his hand on top of mine where it’s lying on the armrest of the purple couch I’m curled up on. “If you ask me, I think he’s just stressed out and not handling it well. But if youdoend up needing a date to the ball, I’d love to escort you.”
More tears fill my eyes.
“Or... not?” Beckett looks unsettled, like he’s not sure if these are good tears or bad tears.
With a laugh, I lean forward and pull him into a hug, and after a moment of surprise, he wraps his arms around me.
