When I reach for her, she drops a little wrapped candy into my palm. My eyes find hers, and I arch a brow. Immediately, her cheeks flush pink.
“It’s a puckerbite. The sourness helps as a distraction from...” She seems nervous to say what she means, but I understand: from the overwhelming panic crashing over me right now.
I unwrap the little sour candy—it’s pink and purple and hard in my fingers—and pop it into my mouth. The moment it hits my tongue, all my senses fire. My mouth and eyes water, my ears make funny whooshing sounds, and all my focus goes to the sweet, sour taste coating my tongue.
After the worst of the sourness passes, I reach up to wipe the moisture it caused from my eyes. And I realize my hands aren’t shaking anymore.
“It... worked,” I say. Then I’m able to smile up at Poppy for real. “That’s crazy. How’d you know about that?”
“I have anxiety attacks sometimes. My mom taught me to use something sweet and sour as a distraction.” She shrugs one shoulder, and I realize that the bookbag she’s carrying looks big enough to topple her tiny frame.
Idiot, I think.Get your ass up and help her.
Now that I don’t feel like I’m dying, I’m able to push to my feet. Poppy tries to take a step back—is she afraid of me?—but the stairwell is narrow, and there’s nowhere for her to go.
“Let me take that,” I say, offering my hand and jutting my chin toward her bag.
She looks down at the bag, then up at me, her light purple eyes going wide. “Oh, no, that’s okay, I—”
“I insist. You helped me. Let me return the favor. Please?” I smile again, reaching to wrap my fingers around the strap of her bag. And when I ease it from her shoulder and onto mine, her cheeks flare pink again, but she doesn’t object.
“Th-thank you,” she says, averting her eyes and looking anywhere but at me.
Fuck, she’s cute.
“Um...” She reaches up to tuck a wispy strand of hair behind her ear. “Do you want to go somewhere else instead?”
My brows shoot up. “You’re still gonna tutor me?”
Finally, she meets my eyes, blinking. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
Because I was late. Because I couldn’t make it to the top of the tower. Because I assumed she thought I was flaking out on her.
I let out a relieved sigh, and now it’s my turn to shrug. “Never mind. Where do you wanna go?”
Poppy tips her head, and that same wisp of hair she previously tucked behind her ear slips free again. “How about the library?”
My fingers have the odd urge to reach out and tuck the strand back behind her ear. But I don’t, of course. That’d be awkward, and it’d probably scare her even more than I already seem to. So instead, I just nod and gesture for Poppy to lead the way, saying, “The library sounds great.”
Chapter 8
Poppy
I’VE NEVER BEEN STARED AT like this before. Well, students always stare when I’m with Maeve, but they don’t usually stop and talk and interrupt us—Maeve is kind of intimidating that way, so the other students give her a wide berth. Aric, on the other hand, exudes a warmth that seems to draw people in, like moths coaxed toward a flame or cats drawn into patches of sunlight on crisp winter days.
“I’m still struggling with this rune map,” Aric says. He slides a crumpled piece of parchment across the table toward me. “Maeve wasgoingto help me with it, but I annoyed her so much she gave up. And now you’re here. So maybe that was a good thing.” He smiles, his tusks gleaming in the sunlight coming through the stained glass windows high up the library’s walls.
Him thinking me being here is a good thing makes me warm inside, and I quickly shift my focus to the parchment, hoping he won’t notice how heat rushes into my cheeks. Inarrow my eyes and sweep my gaze across the many different rune maps he’s tried. Some are scribbled out, others are smudged, but none of them are going to work—that much is obvious.
“What’s your intention with these maps?” I ask.
Aric smiles again. “They’re that bad, huh?”
I hurriedly say, “No, no, they’re . . . uh . . . a good start.”
He arches a brow at me, and as he tips his head, the many piercings in his ears catch the light. “Uh-huh.” Then he reaches into his bookbag and removes a silver ring, which he places on the table between us. “The runes aresupposedto make the ring glow, but no matter what I try, I can’t get them to work.”
“Hmm...” I look back down at the maps he’s already tried, and I can see now where he went wrong. “You were close, actually.”
