“It’s never too late,” she says. Her dark eyes have captured mine. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention that Atticus and I fooled around.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t mention it either.”
She lets out another huff of a laugh and shakes her head. “I don’t know why we’re making this so hard for ourselves.”
“Because we like making things complicated.”
“We like challenges.”
I allow myself a smile. “A challenge means it’s worth doing, right? Nothing without great effort.”
Raven smiles, too, and she takes a deep, steadying breath, eyes locked on mine. The urge to touch her is almost overwhelming,but I hold myself back. My other hand clenches into a fist to stop myself from doing it.
“I was jealous of Aspen,” I say. “And then when I found out you and Atticus kissed, it felt like a punch to the gut. Like I was losing both of you.”
“I’m right here, Dorian,” says Raven, and there’s something different in her gaze this time when she looks at me. She used to look at Atticus that way.
“Aren’t you going to Paris?”
“Come with me.”
Raven’s eyes are soft and warm. They dance across my face, reading me like a favorite book. She tips her head forward, and I hold my breath. She pauses, the briefest moment. The scent of her honey shampoo sends my spine tingling.
“You’re joking,” I whisper.
“I’m not,” she says. And there it is again. That look. With that curious twinkle in her eye, a glow so potent it could light up the universe. Her fingers tighten around mine. “Don’t you think?”
My lungs constrict, my breath catching in my throat. I drop my head, lean in.Do it,I tell myself.Do it, just kiss her. She wants you to.
But I still can’t. It’s everything I want, and it’s so close, even as I recall what she just told me—that Atticus has felt for me what I’ve felt for Raven this whole time. Atticus…
“Dorian,” whispers Raven. “Are you going to kiss me, or am I going to have to throw myself at you?”
A groan escapes me. “Raven.”
I close my eyes and press my lips to hers and take what I’ve always wanted.
32
Atticus
Beware; for I am fearless, and therefore powerful.
—Mary Shelley,Frankenstein
One, one, two,three, five—I’m counting to block out the noise.Eight, thirteen, twenty-one, thirty-four…I’ve been walking for so long, I’ve lost count of the times I’ve started over.
I haven’t gone home yet. I haven’t slept. All night and day, I’ve wandered the outskirts of campus, looking at the skyline, my heart burdened by an immeasurable shame. I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid. My friends both hate me, and it’s all my fault.
The gray clouds promise more rain, making the air feel colder. Wet leaves lie plastered to the cobblestones, and a murder of crows stares down at me from leafless trees.
It’s starting to get dark, which helps me slip back onto campus. I keep my head low, just in case a security guard notices me. But I have a reason to be here.
Professor White heard about what happened and reached out, sending me a letter that appeared in my hand, just like the day Sibylline rejected me.
Her letter, on the contrary, was far more welcoming. She wants me to come by Mansart Hall so she can give me something, maybe a goodbye present, maybe a recommendation. Who knows? Eitherway, I have to pick up my things from the office anyway. Who would I be to decline?
A black cat sits on the stairs to Mansart Hall, watching me with vivid yellow eyes.
